The Way We Were (22 page)

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Authors: Marcia Willett

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BOOK: The Way We Were
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She passed through the house, opening windows to the cool, fresh air, straightening an ornament, shaking out a curtain. As she wandered from room to room, she saw that Trescairn was remarkably unchanged and she could easily recall those years in which she'd lived here with Archie, before Pete and Julia had taken it over. The sitting-room looked just as comfortable with its big sofas and swept hearth, logs piled each side of the huge grate in the granite inglenook. The dining-room, which had doubled as a playroom when the children were growing up, was very tidy, very smart, the pretty chairs set around the long rosewood table; the elegant silver candlesticks hazily reflected in its richly polished surface.

Upstairs, the twins' room was now the guest room, and Charlie and Zack's room had become a study with a sofa-bed and had one whole wall dedicated to overflowing bookshelves. Tiggy's room, which had been Liv's when she'd grown too old to share with Andy, was a nursery with a cot and a small bed where Charlie's children now slept when they came to stay.

Em paused for a moment in each of the rooms, her thoughts vivid with scenes from the past. Suddenly she heard the hooting of a horn and she hurried to the window: Pete's car stood on the gravel below and Julia was already out and at the tailgate, releasing Frobisher. Em gave a little cry of delight; she rapped on the window and waved, and then went hurrying downstairs to meet them.

*  *  *

Val set the dishwasher going and glanced at her watch. By now Liv would already be over in the café doing her morning shift and Chris had gone to Wadebridge to get his hair cut. Val felt an unusual contentment; a sense of pleasure that everything was going smoothly and that each piece of the whole enterprise was under control. Even the irritation she'd begun to feel for Liv had disappeared. The old affection had resurfaced and with it a rather pleasant feeling of superiority. Liv had been such a mover and shaker in getting Penharrow on its feet that there had been a kind of obligation to be grateful to her that had become irksome.

Now, with the secret about the baby, she could almost feel sorry for Liv: she had no man, no home, and her job depended on Penharrow doing well. There might soon come a time when Liv would not be needed and the annexe required for extra accommodation for visitors. Of course, Chris had been upset when she'd mentioned this prospect but then he always stood up for Liv. It might be different when the baby arrived: his priorities would change.

It was funny how certain she felt that she was pregnant. Lots of women said they knew at once – some deep maternal instinct, perhaps – and she knew now what they meant. This relaxed feeling of wellbeing was exhilarating.

‘Don't get your hopes too high,' Chris had warned her.

‘But I feel so different,' she'd argued. ‘It must be to do with some physical change. I feel great.'

‘Perhaps it's all the extra sex,' he'd said, almost bitterly.

She'd been hurt and even slightly angry ‘What do you mean?'

‘Well, you've been too tired for it for the last few months, or you've had a migraine, but now we've decided we want a baby and suddenly we're at it like rabbits. It seems a bit mechanical, that's all.'

She'd laughed then. ‘Wounded pride,' she said. ‘Typical male. Just be grateful for it.'

Just for a moment he'd stared at her as if he disliked her.

Remembering, Val shrugged. He'd be the first to be doing the proud father bit when the time came. She had a satisfying little vision: she was holding the shawled and sleeping baby, looking down at it, and Chris was standing beside her, watching both of them with a tender, proud expression. She was pierced with a desperate longing. She could hardly wait; she wanted this baby more than she'd ever wanted anything. She simply longed to go into the café and tell them all that she was pregnant… but supposing she wasn't?

Val drew in a sharp breath. Chris was right, she mustn't get too complacent, but there was a lot to think about, to plan for and organize. She went upstairs to make the bed and to look again at the small bedroom in its beguiling new light as a nursery.

Liv was preoccupied: thinking about Matt and The Place. She'd just had a good session with the girl whose pretty silver jewellery they had for sale, and had put in a new order; she'd completely rearranged the display of silk scarves and had made a note of how many cards were selling and which of the local scenes were the most popular. The café was busy this morning but she'd managed to grab a cup of coffee in between helping Debs in the kitchen and serving out front.

‘Going great, isn't it?' Debs had said. ‘Even Val looks happy these days but Chris was a bit grumpy yesterday. Can you get the scones out of the oven? Thanks. Was that the bell?'

As she went to and fro, Liv was distracted from her thoughts of Matt and brooded instead on Debs' remark: she'd noticed it herself. As Val's spirits soared so Chris's seemed to descend. It was clear that there was something on his mind but when she'd asked him if he had a problem he'd shaken his head, said he was fine. She couldn't help worrying about him; just recently they'd lost that sense of intimacy, of being in the same boat, of acknowledging the need to encourage Val and keep things going. She'd found that she couldn't get him out of her mind and the moment that she had nothing to do she'd be back on the same mental track, wondering what was wrong. It was during one of these periods of reflection that she'd remembered what Aunt Em had said about the danger of early relationships.

At the time she hadn't connected: she'd been too shocked by the story about Angela and Dad, too shaken by the thought that her own secure childhood had come so close to being threatened. It was much later that she saw the connection: that Aunt Em was implying that she might well be a threat to Val because of her closeness to Chris.

‘It can be dangerous.' Those had been her mother's words – and now she, Liv, could understand why she'd said them: she'd been thinking about Angela. If Val and Chris had serious problems they might never be resolved if he always had someone else to whom he might turn for consolation. Had she and Chris, in the easy familiarity of their old intimacy, been edging Val out into the cold? Liv consoled herself that it certainly didn't look like that at present: on the contrary, Val was on top form and it was Chris who now seemed rather depressed.

It had been bizarre, going to Trescairn a few days ago, and seeing her parents in the light of Aunt Em's story. It was impossible to think that they'd ever suffered the pangs of jealousy or guilt; that Dad had once been attracted to Angela or that Mum had ever considered leaving him. They'd been full of the visit to Charlie and Jo and the rest of the family, and with messages they'd brought back for her. They'd joked about Dad going off in a few weeks, sailing in the Med with an old naval chum, and all the while Liv had been thinking about Angela and the harm she might have done.

She'd got over it, of course, pulled herself together – but the idea was there now, fixed at the back of her mind. Not that she and Chris were remotely involved – of course they weren't – but it would be untruthful to say that either of them was totally unaware of the other. She remembered how she'd stood up on the Tor and allowed herself the brief enchanting vision of running Penharrow with Chris: how tempting, how desirable a prospect it had been. She'd pushed it to one side and imagined no harm was done but she understood a little better now. She'd laughed at the idea, pretended that she and Chris were proof against the danger; now she wasn't quite so confident – and she had Matt's offer to consider. Perhaps she'd got it wrong when she'd said to Aunt Em that she was providing a comfort zone for Chris and Val; perhaps it was the other way round. Did she dare to accept the challenge of Matt's proposals?

Myra had come in, ready for the afternoon shift, and Liv left her to it and went out into the yard. Chris was there, talking to a young woman who'd just got out of an open-topped sports car. She was laughing, frowning against the sun, and he turned, gesticulating towards the annexe; but as soon as he saw Liv his face changed, he beckoned to her, and he turned back to say something to the woman, who now slammed the car door and came towards her.

With a jolt beneath her diaphragm Liv saw that it was Cat; thin as a pin, shiny black hair curving across her cheeks, chic in linen trousers and a black shirt. Her skin was the colour of treacle. Slim though she knew herself to be, Liv felt clumsy and dowdy, and furious at being caught off guard in an old T-shirt and jeans, with her hair dragged back.

She saw that Cat was smiling, a sly secret smile: how odd it was that the slant-eyed look that had been so ugly in the child should be so attractive in the woman.

‘Liv,' she was saying, thoroughly enjoying Liv's discomfiture. ‘Hi. What a fab place. Andy told me all about it and I couldn't wait to see it.' She made as if to embrace Liv who instinctively stepped back, folding her arms across her breast. Cat looked amused at this childish gesture of rejection and glanced at Chris as if to make certain that he'd noticed it. ‘We're old friends,' she told him, her smile widening, black eyes glinting. ‘Aren't we, Liv? Andy sends his love.'

Liv felt wrong-footed, helpless, and it was Chris who came to her rescue. She realized with relief that he'd remembered their conversation in the office, made the connection, and now he moved closer to her, as if to protect her.

‘I'm glad you like Penharrow,' he said pleasantly. ‘I'm Chris Todd. My wife and I own it but we have Liv to thank for its success.'

Cat raised her eyebrows and her glance slid between them. ‘How very nice,' she drawled. ‘I remember now. Weren't you two an item once? Andy said something about it.' She held out her hand to him. ‘I'm Cat Lisburne.' They shook hands ‘I'm staying with friends in Rock but perhaps we could catch up on old times while I'm down, Liv? We could have some coffee one morning, if Chris can spare you. Andy says you have a café here.'

She was looking round, taking it all in. Chris caught Liv's eye, gave a tiny shrug.

‘Yes, of course,' said Liv flatly ‘Why not?'

Cat laughed; it was as if she'd scored a point. ‘Great. I'll be back soon. Must dash.'

She got back into her car, drove away with a flourish of her hand, whilst Liv stood staring after her, her arms still crossed over her breast.

‘So that's the beastly girl the family hates,' said Chris. ‘She's a bit scary, isn't she?'

Liv was silent; she felt threatened but she couldn't understand why. She gave a little shiver and Chris put an arm about her shoulder.

‘Come on, love,' he said gently. ‘She can't hurt you.'

Liv smiled gratefully – but she had an instinctive feeling that he was wrong.

Julia and Pete stood together on the drive, waving goodbye to Zack and Caroline. It had been such a happy day. The sun was so warm, the sky so cloudless, that they'd eaten lunch in the garden and afterwards they'd wandered up on the Tor with Frobisher; Zack and Pete strolling ahead talking about Zack's new posting as first lieutenant and Pete's sailing holiday in the Med with an old naval chum, whilst Caroline and Julia lagged behind, planning how Caroline might come to Trescairn for a few days when the submarine sailed.

Several times during the climb Zack glanced back, smiling with such caring concern at his wife that Julia's heart leaped with joy at the deep love between these two dear children.

‘It's lovely to see them together,' she said now to Pete, slipping her arm in his. ‘Caroline is such a darling and I'm so proud of Zack. Oh, Pete, supposing we hadn't adopted him! What a lot we'd have missed.'

‘But was there any question of not adopting him?' he asked, as they walked back up the drive. ‘It was a foregone conclusion as far as I remember. After all, we were his guardians and there was nobody else, was there?'

‘No,' agreed Julia. ‘But that didn't mean that
we
had to do it.'

‘Oh, we couldn't have let him go,' protested Pete. ‘Funny little sprog that he was. After old Tiggy being here all that summer, they'd become family, hadn't they?'

Julia squeezed his arm. ‘Lots of men wouldn't have felt like that.'

‘Oh, well,' he said lightly. ‘You know me. “All heart that isn't armpit”, as they say in the navy.'

She laughed but shivered suddenly. ‘How terrible it was,' she said, her face sombre.

‘Come on, old love,' he said. ‘It was a long time ago. All over now. I'm going to mow the lawns. A cup of tea would go down well if you felt like making one.'

He turned away, crossing to the barns, and Julia walked on slowly. She could hear the sound of a car approaching and stopped at the door, looking back to see if it were coming to Trescairn. Liv's little car appeared. She parked near the barn, waved to her father and came up to Julia; her face was anxious.

‘You just missed Zack and Caroline,' Julia said. ‘What a shame. Did you pass them on the road?'

Liv shook her head. ‘There's something I want to tell you, Mum. I was going to mention it before but I thought it might worry you. But now …'

She hesitated and Julia watched her in alarm. ‘What is it?' She drew Liv into the house. ‘Is it to do with Chris?' she asked anxiously.

Liv frowned and shook her head. ‘No, it's to do with Andy. He's been seeing Cat. He met her out of the blue and they've been going out together. I hoped it would simply be a flash in the pan but it isn't. She turned up just now at Penharrow'

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