First Friends (54 page)

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Authors: Marcia Willett

BOOK: First Friends
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Cass stared at her speechlessly.

‘This is very difficult, my dear, but it's got to be said and he's asked me to say it. He doesn't want to see you any more. He feels you're getting serious and you'll be hurt.'

‘He asked you . . . ?'

‘I know. But Nick hates hurting people's feelings, especially women's. It upsets him dreadfully but he feels that it's necessary for you to know the truth.'

‘He asked you to . . .

‘I know it's unusual. In most cases it all ends quietly with no ill feeling, but this time . . . '

‘In most cases? Sarah . . . '

‘I'm sorry, my dear. You weren't the first, you know, and you won't be the last. Nick likes a little romance in his life. Oh, it's all quite harmless but he can't resist it.'

‘Sarah! Stop this, please! Are you telling me that Nick . . . that Nick

‘Nick thought that you would understand the situation and accept it for what it was. He wouldn't have dreamed of hurting you. I think he felt you knew the rules. After all, Cass, if we're honest, you do have a certain reputation yourself.'

She stared at Sarah, seeing for the first time the determined chin and the steel in the grey eyes.

‘I don't believe you,' she said flatly. ‘None of this is true. Nick wouldn't do this. You're bluffing.'

‘Oh, my dear.' Sarah gave a little laugh. ‘I can see that I shall have to be brutal. Nick phoned me about one o'clock and told me the whole thing. I knew there was someone, of course, I always do, I didn't know who it was. He said that he'd taken you to our place in Shropshire . . . '

‘Your place?'

‘Funny little shack, isn't it? He likes to say that he borrows it,
makes it look less premeditated. And I'm sure you went to The Bear and met George? He takes them all there.' ‘I don't believe this!'

‘Anyhow, he says that since you've been back it's got much too serious. You've been into the office, I hear, with an assumed name. Really, my dear, that was very foolish of you. Nick won't take any risks, you know. And he'd never leave me. He does very well but our private income comes through my family and he wouldn't want to give up his little luxuries. He's a very selfish man, vain too. But then, none of us is perfect.'

Cass looked upon Sarah's ruthlessness and wondered how she'd ever thought her colourless and insignificant.

‘Well, he asked me to come over and explain things to you. I know you'll try to understand.'

‘He sent you to me?' It was all that Cass could say.

‘Let's face it, my dear, he's a weak character. He looks to me to help him out of his difficulties. Always has. We've had a very good life together, once I got used to his little distractions.'

‘But how can you live like that? I just can't understand . . . '

‘Can't you, Cass? How does Tom manage?'

There was a dreadful silence and then Cass struggled to her feet.

‘You'd better go, Sarah. Please go. Tell Nick he has nothing to fear from me. I shall never speak to him again. I simply can't believe this is happening!'

‘I'm sorry you're taking it like this. We both hope that we shall all remain friends. After all . . . '

‘Friends!'

Sarah stepped back at the look on Cass's face.

‘After all,' she repeated quietly, ‘we have a good many mutual acquaintances and I imagine you wouldn't like any gossip. Think about it. I must be off. Goodbye.'

She crossed the lawn, climbed back into her car and drove away, leaving Cass where she stood.

_______

L
ATER THAT EVENING
J
ANE
received a telephone call from Alan.

‘Hello, love. How are you? How's the sprog?'

‘OK. We're fine. Is the boat in?'

‘Yep! And I'll be home later when I've finished off here. Could be very late, mind. I've got a lift, though.'

‘Oh, that's great. Listen, Alan.' She swallowed nervously. This was the big one. ‘Thank God you've come in. I've found someone to rent the house. No, listen. It means we don't have to sell unless we're really sure we want to. I'm ever so pleased about it. Only trouble is they want to be in by'—she did a quick mental calculation—‘Tuesday at the latest.'

‘Tuesday? That's a bit quick, isn't it?'

‘I know. That's why I'm so glad you're in. They've got to be out of where they are, see? And they have got somewhere else but they want this place. They're ever such a nice couple, no children, really ideal. I wouldn't have to worry about them wrecking the place and you know how difficult it is to find nice people!' She gabbled on breathlessly, willing him to believe her, to agree.

‘Well, OK, love, I can see the advantages, but can we be packed up by Tuesday?'

‘Well, we've got to leave a lot of the stuff anyway, as it's a furnished let. And I've been doing a bit myself, praying you'd be in on time. Cass Wivenhoe says she'll finish anything off for us and send things on and that. Honestly, Alan, it's just like a miracle. I'm ever so pleased.'

‘As long as you're happy, Jane, I don't really mind. But don't forget we've got to go somewhere when we get to Chatham. I suppose we could stay in a Bed and Breakfast ‘til I get a married quarter sorted out . . . '

‘Well, I've arranged that too! See, Cass knows this couple in Chatham who've just gone abroad on an exchange. Their people let them down and they want someone in their place. It's all ready, we can move straight in. Cass says it's a really nice cottage, just out a bit, in the country. Sounds much nicer than a quarter. Please, Alan. I think
it's sort of meant, the way it's just all happened. I'm sure we could be ready in time.'

‘OK, love, if it's what you want.' She could have fainted with relief. ‘Turning into a proper naval wife, aren't you? Bit of luck we got in today then, wasn't it?'

‘Oh, yes!' she lied. “That's what I mean, it's meant to happen this way.'

‘Fine. Well, we'll get ourselves sorted out tomorrow, then. Must go, there's a queue forming. See you later on, love. ‘Bye.'

Jane sank into a chair and closed her eyes, horrified by the ease with which she had told so many lies. Soon, soon they'd be gone! No more skulking indoors, frightened to answer the phone in case it was Philip, fobbing him off with excuses that didn't make him suspicious. She'd been packing the car for days, going secretly from the kitchen door that led directly into the garage, so that none of the neighbours should see. They could be off on Monday, with luck. With a deep sigh of relief she hauled herself to her feet and went in to the kitchen. After all that she desperately needed a cup of tea.

O
N
S
UNDAY, AFTER CHURCH
, Cass strolled down to the Mallinsons' cottage, leaving Gemma to go home alone. Charlotte had said that she felt up to cooking the Sunday lunch. She was still in a very nervous state and had positively refused to return to school on the Thursday. In despair, Cass had telephoned the doctor and asked his opinion. He had told her that a few more days wouldn't hurt but that she should be perfectly fit to go back the following week. Cass felt that the longer Charlotte stayed away the harder she would find it to return and rather unwisely told her so. She explained, sympathetically enough, that when these things happened it was best to face up to them and get on with life at once. She likened it to falling off a horse and getting straight back up on to it again, a parallel she felt sure that Charlotte would understand. Charlotte had stared at her in a stony and stubborn silence and Cass knew herself to be defeated. She had told Charlotte that she could stay home until the weekend but that she must go back to school on Sunday evening. Charlotte continued to stare at her and Cass had left her to it. She was still battling with her own pain over Nick's desertion and the way that he had deceived her. She had been so certain that it had been as special for him as it had for her. To know that she had been just one more poor duped female was almost too much to bear and she lay awake at night, staring into the dark, shattered by the turn of events and occasionally shedding tears. She remembered his tender love-making and whispered endearments and ached to feel his arms about her. At these moments, she would turn on to her face and cry in earnest into her pillow. By morning, she felt too exhausted and too miserable to cope with Charlotte's unreasonable behaviour and was grateful that only Gemma was at home. Oliver had already been taken back to school by his great-aunt's henchman and Cass had been obliged to telephone and explain to him that Charlotte wasn't well but that she would be back soon. The twins, too, had returned, under pain of death should they so much as breathe a word about what had happened in Bristol.
On Saturday evening, when Cass told her to pack her things for school, Charlotte had announced that nothing would induce her to go back to Blundells, that she would be an object of pity and scorn. There had been a row at this point but Charlotte remained obdurate and had refused to speak another word since.

At least, on Sunday morning she had stirred from her apathy enough to suggest that she could cook the lunch, although she had looked very oddly at Cass when the latter had announced her intention to check the cottage.

‘I haven't been over for ages,' she explained, almost defensively. The child was behaving most peculiarly and it would probably be a good thing when she'd finished those tablets. They seemed to have a very strange effect on her. ‘I shan't be late for lunch, it's only a ten-minute walk, fifteen at the most!'

Mrs Hampton waylaid her at the church gate to ask after Charlotte.

‘By the way,' Cass glanced round and lowered her voice, ‘I've got a
message for you from Jane Maxwell. Alan's home and they'll be off tomorrow. I think you know that it's all very hush-hush?'

‘I do indeed, my lover. Well, I am pleased. An' all thanks to you, I 'ear!

‘Rubbish! But she said that if you happened to be passing and popped in, she'd love to say goodbye.'

‘O' course I will. I'm that pleased for 'em.'

‘Good.' Cass smiled at her. ‘See you in the morning then, thank goodness! You seem to be the only person that Charlotte will talk to at the moment, and I'm hoping you'll have a chat with her tomorrow. She simply refuses to go back to school this evening and I'm at my wits' end. She says that they'll all laugh at her. We've had a bit of a row, I'm afraid, but what can I do? I can't take her by force. I wish Tom was home. Kate's been over and tried to reason with her but she just won't have it. She says she'd rather go to Tavistock Comprehensive. There's just a chance she'll listen to you. You've always been so close.'

Mrs Hampton looked dismayed.

‘There now! I'd quite forgot! I can't come in tomorrow. I meant to tell you Friday but it went outa me mind, what with Charlotte an' every-thin'. I've gotta go down the ‘ospital for me check-up. It's that ol' leg o' mine. Mrs Drew's takin' me down in the mornin'. Goodness knows how long it'll all take. You know what them consultants is like. Could take all day.'

‘Don't give it a thought. You can talk to her any time. It looks as if I'm landed with her. Let me know how it goes. It might be better if she came down to you. You could invite her down for tea and have a little heart to heart.'

They parted and Cass set off on the bridle path that led, amongst other places, to the cottage. The earth was bone dry beneath her feet but today the sun was obscured by a high mist although it was still warm. Change was in the air. She approached the cottage from the back and climbed the stile into the garden thinking of her assignation
there with Nick after her party all those months ago. Her heart gave a great throb of pain. She still couldn't quite believe it and hoped against hope to hear from him, telling her that it had all been a dreadful mistake. But she knew in her heart that it was all too true. Sarah's revelations had shocked her; Nick must have told her everything and that hurt almost more than anything else. She remembered the pity and contempt in Sarah's eyes and felt a thrill of humiliation and pain. How could he have exposed her to that?

She unlocked the front door and went in. It smelt musty and unused and she decided that it might be time to start up the central heating for the winter. It wouldn't do any harm, either, to let Hammy in with a duster. She passed through, opening windows, and went to look at the central heating boiler. After five minutes it was still a mystery to her and she knew that she'd have to get someone in. She went into the sitting room and looked at the pad which was kept by the telephone. Here, Paul had written various instructions and telephone numbers which he had considered might be useful to her in her capacity as caretaker. Yes, here indeed was an entry: P.R. Plumbing, and a local telephone number. Well, it was Sunday, but it was worth a try. She dialled. After some time a sleepy voice spoke in her ear.

‘Hello? Who is it?'

‘Oh, hello. I'm sorry to bother you on a Sunday but I've got a bit of a problem. I'm at Brook Cottage, the Mallinsons' place, just outside . . . '

‘Yeah. I know where it is. I put the central heating in for 'em.'

‘Ah. Well, that's the point. They're abroad at present and I'm care-taking for them. The place is getting very damp but I haven't a clue how to start the wretched thing up. I suppose you couldn't come over and get it going for me?'

‘What, now?'

‘No, no. But as soon as possible. It really does need some warmth in the place.'

‘Yeah. Well, I could be over that way tomorrer, as it happens. I could do it then, it's only a five-minute job.'

‘Could you really? That would be marvellous. What sort of time would that be?'

‘Well, I dunno at the minute. I'll have to check with someone else I gotta see. I'll phone you in the morning.'

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