A Place of Secrets (43 page)

“When’s Grandma coming?”
asked Summer, not in the slightest bit interested in any of the books and papers Jude had spread around her. It was now an hour and a half since Valerie had phoned.

“I’m sure she’ll be here soon,” said Claire. “They’ll have lots to do if they’ve just got home.”

“Perhaps they’ve gone shopping first,” Jude said, looking at her watch. “After all, it’s getting a bit late.”

She heard Frank say to
Chantal, “Yes, we ought to be getting along home, let you good people have a quiet evening.”

“Oh, we’re enjoying ourselves, aren’t we, Robert?” Alexia broke in. “Do stay a little longer if you can.”

“I think they’re here,” cried Summer, running to the window and lifting the blind. “Yes, Grandma! Grandma!” She banged on the window with her soft little fist, then skipped to the door, where she
waited for Alexia to open it. Chantal followed, with Jude and Claire, hurrying out into the hall and down the steps. There a very smart couple were getting out of a polished navy saloon car. Summer hurtled forward.

“Darling,” cried Valerie in her gorgeous husky voice, and opened her arms wide to catch her. “How pretty you are. Let me look at you. Isn’t your hair lovely with those slides like
that. Ooh, and I wish I could find shoes like yours. They don’t make them for grown-up ladies, darling.”

She turned to the row of smiling women. “Claire, Judith, darlings, I’m so sorry we’re late. And…” She embraced them in turn. Douglas, affable and correct, shook hands and kissed cheeks, and Jude introduced them to Chantal and Alexia. Chantal immediately admired Valerie’s pretty suit and drew
her into the house, Summer hop-skipping ahead. Jude watched them go, noticing, to her surprise, that her mother’s high-heeled sandals were dirty with mud. Definitely odd. She went to help Douglas with some bags of gift-wrapped parcels stowed in the trunk.

“I’m sorry we’re on the late side,” he said gravely. “I expect Valerie will tell you. We had a little stop on the way.”

“Oh,” said Jude, thinking
of the mud, “nothing wrong, I hope.”

“No, we had enough of that earlier. The airline lost my golf clubs. A damn nuisance and I’ve filled in endless forms. No, Valerie had a bit of sightseeing to do. Curious, really. Now if you could take these presents … you know Valerie, can’t pass a shop.” He lowered the trunk’s lid and said no more about the mysterious diversion, so Jude asked him about Spain
as they went inside and he told her briefly about the stressful time they’d had. “We really should have waited until the villa was finished. I regret taking her there too soon. She really found it quite impossible—hot and confusing—and I don’t blame her. I can hardly forgive myself.”

In the library, Valerie, like a scented bird of paradise alighting amid the dowdy colors of the English country
house, moved from kissing her mother to shaking hands with Robert. “Little darlings,” she murmured, on meeting the twins.

“Mum, this is Frank Thetford,” Jude said, and Frank greeted Valerie with a vigorous handshake. “My ma was an old friend of your ma’s, which is why we’re here,” he explained briefly, “and this is my son.”

To say that Valerie was surprised to set eyes on Jon would be an understatement.
The blood drained from her face. Claire had the grace to push forward and bail Jon out. “Mum, I know you remember him, don’t you? We met up again recently. Actually, he’s really helped with Summer, and…” She clutched, involuntarily, at Jon’s arm. Jon gently took her hand and enfolded it in his. Valerie, however, was looking from Jon to Summer and back again, her lipsticked mouth an O
of disbelief. Jude saw Frank start to do the same thing. Claire rolled her eyes.

“Does she know?” Valerie said to Claire finally.

“Summer?” Claire said, trying to be nonchalant and merely sounding sulky. “No.”

“What?” asked Summer, sensing the grown-ups were up to something.

“Nothing, darling. I’ll tell you later,” she said sternly.

“Well, I think he’s a very nice young man,” contributed
Gran, whose hearing aid was working perfectly today.

“Has everyone guessed?” Claire said, glowering.

“I’m afraid we just assumed,” Robert blurted out, blushing. “The likeness is … undoubted.”

“Well,” Frank said, “I’m delighted, young lady, most delighted.” And he and Claire hugged each other awkwardly.

“What’s everyone talking about?” asked Summer crossly, and was furious when people just
laughed.

“I promise, darling, that I will tell you later,” Claire said, bending to hug her daughter.

Jude heard Frank say to Gran, “And now I’ve a little girl to give that necklace to!”

At that moment Alexia and Chantal entered the room with trays of drinks and plates of food from tea for Valerie and Douglas, and everyone regrouped, chatting. The children decided they’d had enough of boring
adult conversation and Alexia left the drinks to take them off to watch DVDs.

“There’s someone you haven’t met yet, Mum, Douglas,” Jude said, and stepped over to bring Euan into the circle. He’d been waiting quietly in a corner of the room, watching the proceedings, but apparently perfectly comfortable.

“I expect you’ll have heard of Euan. He’s the naturalist and author.”

“Ah, yes, a neighbor
of ours went to hear you do that bookshop talk,” Douglas said as Euan shook hands with Valerie and her husband most charmingly, and they chatted for a while about books and Spain, which Euan seemed to know a little about. Now it was Jude’s turn to roll her eyes, because Valerie beheld him with great interest, and asked him at one point how long he’d known Jude.

“Mum,” she said, trying to broaden
out the conversation, “you’ll be amazed but Euan lives in the house where Gran was brought up.”

“Gamekeeper’s Cottage? Why, we passed that just now, didn’t we, Doug? And I wanted to stop and look because Claire had said it was being done up, but Doug said we ought to get on.”

“We’d already stopped once, Val.”

“Where did you stop, Mum?” Jude leaped in to ask.

Valerie glanced at Claire as she
said, “I wanted to see the folly.”

“I didn’t realize you knew the folly,” Chantal said, coming over with a tray of wine and snacks.

“Oh I know it all right,” Valerie said. She met Chantal’s eye with raised eyebrows and Chantal looked puzzled.

“I did tell her we were probably trespassing, didn’t I, old girl?” Doug put in gently, as he passed drinks round.

“It is not our land you were trespassing
on,” Chantal said. “I’m sad to say it belongs to someone else now.”

Claire chipped in, “Why the change of heart, Mum? You didn’t want to go there last time.”

“I didn’t have the courage. But ever since, I’ve been thinking about it, and when we came past just now, I got this funny feeling that we had to stop and see where it happened.”

“Where what happened, Mum?” asked Jude.

“It was you, wasn’t
it?” Chantal said in a low voice, clutching the empty tray. “You were at the inquest. I didn’t recognize you till now.”

Valerie looked about the room. Gran was petting Miffy. Euan, Frank, Jon and Robert had gone to stroll around the grounds. She twisted her glass nervously. “I never told Claire and Jude about it,” she said. “It was too awful.” She took a large sip of her wine and gazed distractedly
around the room.

“Mum?” Jude said, seeing tears in her eyes.

“Sorry, dear, I’m a little tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Perhaps we should be going,” Douglas said, looking with concern from Valerie’s anxious face to Chantal’s pale one.

Claire broke in crossly, “No, Douglas. Mum, you can’t say that something awful happened, then go off without telling us what. Do you think we’re going to get
a wink of sleep all night wondering what it is? Well, we’re not. You’re so selfish.”

Douglas opened his mouth, then closed it again when Valerie said petulantly, “Oh I suppose you’re right. I need to sit down though.”

It occurred to Jude, as they all settled themselves, faithful Doug next to Valerie, that her mother was on some level enjoying all this attention. But she forgot this uncharitable
thought as soon as Valerie began her story because she realized instantly that it was part of the bigger story, the one their family had all become caught up in.

“When I was very young,” Valerie said, “I was a bit wild, wasn’t I, Mother?”

“You were certainly that.” Gran had been listening quietly. She knew this story already, Jude guessed, startled.

“But we had so much fun. It happened when
I was twenty. One July it was the birthday of someone in our crowd, a boy called Ian. Hayes, I think his other name was. I haven’t seen him since. He found the most marvelous place for a party. An old deserted folly, he said, and the really good thing was, the owners were away. And he organized it—music and booze and so on—and I came with this lovely boy I was seeing at the time. I’d got very fond
of him in fact. His name was Marty.” She paused, a sad, faraway expression in her eyes.

Marty
, Jude remembered. The name on the bench in the village. The boy who died.

“Mum,” Claire said impatiently, “do go on.”

“After the pubs closed we all drove up in the darkness and it felt like the middle of nowhere, really quite spooky, and we left the cars down this lane and followed a line of lights
Ian had laid through the woods. It was a bit mad, us girls in our silly shoes and short skirts and Marty carrying this crate of beer. Ian had got a big bonfire going, and there was this tower thing—really romantic, but, as I said, very spooky, too. So we did all the usual things you do at parties and, of course, a few naughty things went on—”

“The doctor at the inquest said most of you had been
smoking cannabis,” Chantal interrupted, her tone clipped and icy.

“Yes, well,” Valerie flicked her wrist dismissively. “What else did you expect?”

“It was a factor when his family tried to sue us,” Chantal told everyone.

“That whole business wasn’t anything to do with me.” Valerie tried to pull the hem of her skirt down over her chubby knees but it wouldn’t quite reach.

“Mum,” pleaded Claire,
“do go
on
.”

“I forget how much time passed before Marty suggested we go up the tower. Ian said it was locked, but Marty could never be told anything and someone had a tool kit with them in the car and they got the door open. About half a dozen of us went up—I didn’t want to but Marty did, so I went too, and Ian and some others. It was a long way up and we were all a bit squiffy and giggly and
the girls kept squealing, then we reached that little room and everyone crowded in. Marty thought it was amazing, but we girls didn’t like it and wanted to go down. All I can say is the place didn’t feel good, as if we’d disturbed it with all our racket. The other girls and one of the boys went down, but Marty shone his flashlight about and saw there was a ladder up to a kind of hatch door in the
ceiling. Ian held the ladder and up Marty went. He opened the door and hauled himself through and … that was the last time I saw him alive.” She stopped, her manicured hand covering her mouth.

Chantal said in a low voice, “He fell, didn’t he? That’s what they said. He shouldn’t have gone up there, especially the state he was in. He went too close to the edge and lost his balance.”

“He fell,”
Valerie said, facing Chantal with a stubborn glare. “But we don’t know why. They wouldn’t listen to what Ian said at the inquest. Ian climbed the ladder, too, he said, just in time to see Marty with a surprised expression on his face. He wasn’t looking at Ian, but at something Ian himself couldn’t see because the trapdoor was up in the way. Marty stepped backward and lost his balance and tipped over
the parapet. I heard him scream all the way down. Oh, I’ll never forget that scream. I tried to get up the ladder after them, but Ian was scrambling back down and we could hear a terrible din of people down below so we rushed off down the stairs. Near the bottom I missed my footing and flew through the air. After that I knew nothing till I woke up in the hospital the next day, my head covered
in bandages and a terrible ache in my insides.”

“It was dreadful, simply dreadful,” Gran said. “And we hadn’t even met this boy. We didn’t know about him. Her father was beside himself, but I told him, at least she’s all right. Maybe it’ll be a lesson to her.”

“But some people said it was our fault,” Chantal said, visibly upset. “That’s what’s difficult. Of course, I can understand the family
… so grief-stricken. But demanding we knock down the folly and pay them reparation. That was unreasonable. Fortunately, the judge agreed. My husband was very generous to pay costs.”

“Are you all right, darling?” Douglas was stroking his wife’s hand.

Valerie nodded. “All that had nothing to do with me,” she said, then pressed her lips together. “And it wouldn’t bring Marty back.”

“No, of course
not.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment. How sharp emotions were still, nearly forty years after this tragedy. Jude wondered why her mother had never mentioned it before, such a significant event in her life.

“What do you think happened on the top of the tower, Mum?” Claire asked.

“Marty and Ian had certainly been drinking, I can’t argue with that—and smoking stuff, too. I didn’t like those joint
things—they made me feel sick—so I remember everything quite clearly. The room in the tower had an odd atmosphere, I can tell you that. I don’t know what to make of Ian’s version. Marty could have just lost his balance and fallen. Ian couldn’t have pushed him or anything; he hadn’t left the ladder. But as to Marty seeing something that surprised or frightened him, I still don’t know that I believe
that. I felt sorry for Ian, though—the coroner didn’t seem interested at all.

“I left home a few months afterward, moved to London and found a job as a secretary. Soon after that I met your father. I kept all that a secret from him, I’m afraid. I suppose I thought he might be put off me. He was so … decent and straight, wasn’t he, your dad? After we were married it became harder to bring it up.
Especially since … Well, it’s something I never told anyone except Marty. Your Gran knew, of course, the hospital made sure of that. I was pregnant at the time of the accident. Three months, they said it was. I lost Marty’s baby.”