The Sweetest Thing (20 page)

‘Thanks, Karen.’

‘You deserve it. If it had been me and Hugo splitting up, I’d have been in pieces.’

I was in pieces, I muse. It’s just that Karen didn’t have the perspicacity to notice when it happened because I put on a brave face. I had to stay strong, for the sake of the children, and to show David I could do very well without him.

I half thought that Karen might have moved down here too, seeing she’s always trying to buy into my lifestyle. She’s older than me yet since I was born she’s always wanted to have what I have – that’s why she married Hugo, one of David’s friends whom she met at
our wedding. She was on the PTA committee because I was on it. She’s even gone out and bought the same clothes as me on occasion.

‘It must get very lonely here on your own without the children when they’re with David,’ my sister says. ‘I’m sure I’d hate it.’

Summer rolls her eyes at me. I know what she means, but you can’t choose your family. You can’t choose your neighbours either.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door.

‘That’ll be Guy,’ I say, getting up from the table where Paul, having returned with Hugo from putting up tents, is talking to Karen about the price of grapes. I open the door to Guy.

‘Hi, thanks for dropping by. I wasn’t sure you’d turn up,’ I say. I thought he might have been too shy to meet my friends.

‘I’m a little later than I intended – one of the cows had her calf this afternoon. I wanted to make sure they were settled.’

‘So you’re a midwife as well as a farmer?’

‘I guess so.’ He smiles.

‘You are coming in?’ I add, when he hesitates on the step.

‘My boots,’ he says. My eyes follow his downward glance from his open-necked check shirt to his light brown chinos which are slightly creased about the knees, to his muddy leather boots, a size twelve or thirteen … and I hope Summer’s not going to make some tactless comment about what they say about the size of a man’s feet.

‘Leave them here in the hall. Come on through.’

All eyes are on Guy when he enters the kitchen, but if he notices, he handles it well. I introduce him and he
greets Summer and Karen with his slow, shy smile, then shakes Paul’s and Hugo’s hands.

‘Champers or cider?’ says Hugo in a mock Devon accent.

‘A small glass of cider, thank you,’ Guy says, and Hugo looks at him, the hint of a sneer on his lips.

‘Oh, come on. Don’t be a party pooper.’

‘I have to be up at five.’

‘On a Sunday?’ Karen raises one eyebrow.

‘Every day,’ Guy says.

‘Crikey,’ says Hugo. ‘Still, you do some strange shifts, don’t you, Paul?’

‘Yeah, but not every day of the week.’

‘Paul manages a supermarket,’ I explain, then remember Guy’s opinion of supermarkets and their influence on the price of milk. However, ignoring Hugo, Guy soon starts chatting with Paul.

‘Shall we go outside?’ I suggest. ‘We can keep an eye on the happy campers – the younger ones anyway.’

‘What about the painting?’ Paul asks.

‘Tomorrow,’ says Summer, already comfortably sozzled.

‘I’m afraid I’ll have to sit that out,’ Karen says. ‘It’s my allergy. I can’t tolerate paint fumes.’

I don’t believe her. She has an allergy to physical activity, I think, smiling to myself.

We head outside again, and retrieve the deckchairs and garden furniture that Chris and the girls have taken from the lawn at the back of the house to enhance their camping experience. We sit watching the darkness that creeps across the sky and the string of solar lanterns lighting up on one of the apple trees. The air here is fresh, laced with the aroma of cow. There’s no traffic, just the sound of a grasshopper in the grass at
the edge of the paddock. The only irritation is Hugo who has pulled his chair up too close. He touches his lower leg against mine.

‘How many new friends have you made here?’ Karen asks, making it sound like a competition.

‘I’m not sure about friends, apart from Guy,’ I say, glancing towards him.

‘You know I mean girlfriends. Men don’t count –’ Karen lowers her voice ‘– because there’s always a sexual subtext.’

‘In your opinion,’ I say lightly. ‘I’ve met a few people from Talyton – they’re friendly enough, but I couldn’t call them friends, not yet.’

‘Jennie’s only been here four weeks,’ Summer says, rescuing me from certain embarrassment. ‘I expect you’ll meet more people when the children start school.’

‘I’m not lonely. I don’t feel isolated.’ I slide my foot away from Hugo’s where his deck shoe is getting intimate with my flip-flop. ‘I see Guy, and I’ve had to go out and talk to people to get the business off the ground.’

‘How many cakes have you actually sold?’ says my sister.

‘Not many.’

‘How many exactly?’ Hugo cuts in.

‘Two.’

Hugo chuckles. ‘Which only goes to prove that woman cannot live by cake alone. I can have a look at your business plan for you, if you like.’ He reaches over and presses my hand. ‘Gratis.’

‘Hugo, are you trying to wriggle out of the painting?’ Summer asks.

‘I’m just suggesting that my talents might be better
used elsewhere. Business is business. As far as I’m concerned cake is just another commodity.’

‘Talking of cake,’ I say, getting up, ‘would anyone like some more?’ Summer accompanies me inside to fetch some.

‘It’s glorious,’ she says, looking out of the kitchen window.

‘I’m so pleased you like it. You can see the attraction then?’

‘Mmm … the view.’ But she could be talking about Guy, and I’m glad it’s dark because I can feel myself blushing.

‘Guy’s noticed,’ she adds.

‘Noticed what?’

‘Hugo.’

‘I wish Karen had left him behind,’ I whisper. ‘He’s all right most of the time, but when he’s drunk, well, he’s all over me and it’s really embarrassing as well as insulting to my sister. I don’t know what to do about it.’

‘You could talk to her.’

‘I’ve tried,’ I say, ‘and she’s in denial. She doesn’t want to know.’

‘I probably wouldn’t either, if I was in her position,’ Summer says thoughtfully.

David tackled Hugo about it once, not long after Georgia was born. Hugo behaved himself after that – at least, he did until David and I split up. ‘Summer, would you mind taking these outside?’ I hand her a couple of loaded plates. ‘I’m just going upstairs for a minute.’ I pay a visit to the bathroom, stopping on the landing to listen to the party in progress. The house is alive with people, talking and laughing. I love it. I fluff up the towels and open a new soap, honey and
oatmeal. I pause when I catch my own name being uttered outside.

‘Jennie’s great, isn’t she?’ says Summer.

‘You have to admire her for taking on this house and bringing up three kids,’ says Guy.

‘She’s a tough cookie,’ slurs Hugo.

‘With a soft centre,’ says Summer. ‘She’d do anything for anyone.’

‘I’m not sure that’s entirely true,’ Hugo says. He’s really drunk now, I think, with disgust. He’s being crude. ‘She wouldn’t for David.’

‘Hugo,’ Karen warns.

I hear someone shifting a chair, Hugo’s laughter as a drink goes flying, and Karen making an executive decision to return indoors because she’s being eaten to death by midges.

Feeling a little awkward, thanks to Summer’s stirring and Hugo’s implication that my frigidity contributed to the end of my marriage, I head back to rejoin the party.

However, before I reach the top of the stairs, Hugo appears in front of me, his expression lecherous, his face shining with sweat. I press myself against the wall, allowing him room to get by, but he stops right beside me, the scent of alcohol seemingly oozing from every pore, and I find my own skin crawling, just like it does when I see a spider close up.

‘Jennie, you’ve done well,’ he says in a low voice, and I think with relief that it’s okay, he just wants to talk, nothing else. ‘Forget about the cakes, this place is a great investment. You can do it up and sell it on separately from the outbuildings, then convert them. A high-spec barn conversion – you’ll be minted.’

‘I’m not planning to sell up,’ I say, smiling to myself.
Why does everyone have this idea that I’m going to sell up? I’m in love – I’m hardly going to abandon Uphill House.

‘Do up the barn, sell that and keep the house then.’

‘It would spoil the house, and I’m sure my neighbour would have something to say on the matter.’

‘Your neighbour has opinions on everything,’ Hugo says.

‘Yeah,’ I say, deciding to make my escape with a quick sidestep, but Hugo catches hold of my arm, and whispers in my ear, ‘How about it, Jennie? If you won’t take any business advice, at least let me give you a quantum of solace.’

‘No way, Hugo. Never in a million years.’

‘Jennie, please …’ The breath catches in his throat. ‘We wouldn’t be hurting anyone. No one need know.’

‘Hugo, you’re drunk,’ I protest as he turns, pressing his palms against the wall above my shoulders and his warm belly against mine. It’s too much. I feel suffocated, threatened … and afraid that someone will catch me in a compromising position. ‘Even if I did fancy you, which I don’t, I would never agree to go through with this … this fantasy of yours. You’re married to my sister. You’re family!’

‘But you’re so … lush.’

‘Leave me alone.’ Hearing footsteps on the stairs, I try to push him away, but he’s too big. ‘Please, get off me.’

‘You heard what Jennie said.’

‘Guy!’ I exclaim as he grabs Hugo’s shoulders and pulls him away. Hugo staggers back, stumbles sideways and knocks his head against the corner of the wall at the top of the stairs. Recovering his balance, he turns round to face Guy.

’What did you do that for?’ he says, grimacing as he touches the side of his head.

‘The lady asked you to let her go,’ Guy says coolly. ‘You should learn to listen.’ He moves past and heads into the bathroom, slamming the door shut so I don’t have the opportunity to thank him for looking out for me.

‘Are you all right up there?’ Summer shouts.

‘We’re fine,’ I call back. ‘Hugo tripped on a loose floorboard, gave himself quite a whack.’

To my disappointment, Guy doesn’t stay any longer. While Karen’s checking Hugo’s bruise and admonishing him for not being able to take his drink like he used to, Guy peers around the kitchen door, his expression slightly sheepish.

‘Goodnight, all. Goodnight, Jennie. No, don’t get up.’ He holds out one hand. ‘I’ll see myself out.’

I don’t go after him, but I do wonder why he’s in such a hurry to leave. Is he embarrassed by what happened with Hugo? I don’t see that he has any reason to be. He pulled Hugo off me, that’s all. It isn’t as if he hit him, or anything like that. Perhaps he’s afraid of how it looks. More likely, he doesn’t want to spend any more time than necessary with my obnoxious brother-in-law.

‘I told you he was a party pooper,’ Hugo says. He pulls Karen on to his lap and starts serenading her with the ‘Combine Harvester’ song.

‘Oh, Hugo, really,’ Karen sighs, but she slides her arm around his fat neck and pours herself another glass of scrumpy.

‘That stuff’s lethal,’ I say.

‘We don’t have to dash about in the morning, do we?’

‘What about the painting?’ Paul repeats. ‘Jennie wants us to paint and here we are getting plastered.’

Later, I’m clearing up in the kitchen, chatting with Summer.

‘Country living wouldn’t be for me, but I can see that it has its compensations,’ she says. ‘You and the handsome farmer?’

‘Oh, no, not after David.’

‘He asked me about you. I told him to take care of you.’

‘Thanks, but I can look after myself.’

‘Yes, but do you want to? Jennie, it’s been over a year … eighteen months … since you and David split up.’ ‘I’m not ready for another relationship.’ It’s a phrase I trot out quite regularly.

‘You could go on a few dates, have some fun.’

I know I can’t though. I’m not like that. For me, it’s all or nothing.

‘What happened up there with Hugo?’ Summer keeps her voice low. ‘Come on. Something did.’

‘He came on to me.’

‘The old lech.’

‘Guy pulled him off me, Hugo tripped and hit his head.’

‘Where did this happen?’

‘On the landing, like Hugo said.’

‘What were you all doing up there? If I’d known the party was carrying on upstairs, I’d have come up too.’

‘I went up to go to the loo. When I came out of the bathroom, Hugo was there – he’d followed me upstairs. Then Guy turned up.’

‘You aren’t going to say anything to Karen?’

‘No, you know what she’s like – she only hears what she wants to hear.’ Karen may be my sister and I feel
protective towards her, but she’s always made it quite clear that she won’t tolerate any criticism of Hugo, whether it’s justified or not. I shrug. ‘I used to do the same with David, make excuses for him. He’s had too much to drink. He’s a man. And the best one of all – he wouldn’t have done it if the woman involved hadn’t come on to him …’