Hidden Cottage (33 page)
With everything in order, she stood back as she always did to admire her efforts before closing the wardrobe doors. But as before, she experienced no satisfaction of a job well done. Instead, she felt a chilling sense of futility. Staring at the rail of clothes that dominated her life, she then opened the smaller wardrobe to the right where she kept her non-work clothes, and which she kept in the same neat and precise order.
The difference, however, could not have been more acute, and as she stared at the few things she possessed for a life outside of work – ancient jeans, loose-fitting jogging bottoms, a couple of baggy tops and some seen-better-days trainers – she tried to remember when she’d last bought herself something to wear that wasn’t for the office. Surely she must have bought something special for when she was seeing Greg? But she hadn’t, she realized. Because . . . because they had never been anywhere special together. Always he had come here for what he called a nice home-cooked meal, saying he wanted to be with her – alone with her – that he didn’t want to waste a precious moment of their time sharing her with other people.
Liar!
she wanted to scream.
Liar. You didn’t want anyone to see us because you were cheating on your wife! All I ever was to you was a quick and easy shag on the side!
Her heart was pounding, and the room seemed to shrink around her until all that she could see, summed up in the miserable contents of this small wardrobe, was the stark reality of her pathetic existence. Was this it? Was this her life? Was it even a life?
Choking back angry tears, she returned to the wardrobe that contained her suits and blouses and in a wild fury of helter-skeltering emotions she began yanking the hangers off the rail, flinging jackets, skirts and blouses over her shoulder. Exhausted and with tears streaming down her face, she finally sank to the floor and buried her face in the pile of clothes.
Later, when she woke with the pain of something poking her in the ear – a coat-hanger – she looked about her at the heap of tangled clothes. I’m going mad, she thought.
She let out a groan at the sound of the doorbell.
Ignore it, she told herself.
The bell sounded again.
And again.
Reluctantly she got to her feet and went to see who it was.
‘Simon,’ she said in surprise when she opened the door, ‘I thought you were at some music festival with your brother.’
‘I was. I just got back and thought I’d come and see how you were. I tried ringing, but there was no answer.’
‘I was having a nap,’ she said, which was partially true. A comatose nap.
‘Can I come in?’ he asked.
It would have been appallingly unreasonable to say no, so she nodded and let him in. He had never been to her flat before and she watched him look curiously around as she led him down the narrow corridor towards the sitting room.
‘Having a sort-out?’ he asked, peering in at the open doorway of her bedroom.
She followed his gaze and blushed furiously, not just at the state of her room, but at the memory of what she had done. Recalling the madness to which she had succumbed was a mistake and she suddenly felt a resurgence of wretchedness. She battled the tears that were threatening to overcome her again but it was no good.
The next thing Simon was holding her and she was crying her heart out once more. This time, though, she was crying not for what Greg had done to her, but for what she had done to herself. For what she had become.
When Mia let herself in at Medlar House, she could hear the answering machine beeping: someone had left a message.
It was Daisy, and she was upset. Jeff’s visit had not gone well. Oh, for heaven’s sake, what had he done now?
Back in Brussels, having had time to think about what had happened that afternoon in Luton, Jeff’s mind was made up: he was going to stand firm.
Mia was on the phone, just as he knew she would be once she’d spoken to Daisy. She was trying to convince him, yet again, that he was wrong. Wrong!
Him?
Unbelievable. But he didn’t care what claptrap she came up with, he had no intention of giving in to her. Not this time. Not when he was in the right. What was more, he was bloody sick of being told that he was the difficult one, that he needed to tread warily and be more sensitive.
What really riled him was that no one had any respect for him or ever stopped to think how he felt. Was he supposed to have no feelings? My God, when he thought about what he’d done for his family! And what did he get in return? Nothing. A big fat nothing.
Well, no more. From now on he was not going to be manipulated by accusations of unreasonable behaviour. And for the record, if anyone deserved to be labelled unreasonable, it was Mia. Never did she see things from his point of view. She always took the children’s side in any dispute. Just as she was doing now. Would it kill her, just once, to stand by him?
Stand by him, what a joke! She disagreed with him at every turn, had been doing so for some time now. No wonder the kids behaved the way they did with her as an example.
‘If you really love Daisy, you’ll climb down and apologize to her and Scott,’ she said now.
‘I’ll apologize when that rude specimen of a boyfriend has apologized to me. And please don’t ever use that phrase to manipulate me.’
‘What phrase?’
‘
If you really love Daisy
.’
‘Oh, Jeff, can’t you see that all you have to do is—’
‘You weren’t there, Mia,’ he cut her off. ‘You don’t know what that sod said to me. He accused me of messing Daisy up.
Me!
I mean, come on, it’s perfectly obvious that he’s brainwashed her, turned her against me, got her to believe that I’m practically the devil incarnate. And what am I supposed to do meanwhile – stand back and not react? Well, let’s see what the reaction is when the Bank of Daddy withdraws its funding!’
‘Has Daisy asked you for any money?’
‘Not yet. But I guarantee she will do soon. Probably when she gets to Australia and realizes she’s made a mistake and wants to get the first flight home.’
‘You don’t think, after the way you’ve gone about things, that she’ll stick it out just to prove a point to you?’
‘I know Daisy. This is another of her phases, like that time when she became a vegetarian; that lasted for all of three weeks if I remember rightly.’
‘Jeff, she was ten years old.’
‘Doesn’t matter how old she was, it’s just another example of her believing in something for all of two minutes. This is the same. She’s convinced herself she’s in love and has got swept along in what she imagines will be a more exciting way of life. It’s nothing but a dream.’
‘If that’s the case, why not let her enjoy the dream while it lasts? Why be so cruel and want to prick her bubble?’
‘Cruel? Oh, that’s rich! I’m doing what countless times in the past you told me I should have done, which is not to pander or give in to her whims. I’d have thought after Eliza’s recent experience you would be the last person to advocate anyone living in a fool’s paradise for the sake of a moment’s pleasure.’
‘There are no certainties when it comes to happiness. But from what I’ve seen of them together, Scott makes Daisy happy. Haven’t you noticed a change in her?’
Remembering how Daisy had stood with Scott’s arm around her and asked him to leave before he upset her any more, Jeff said, ‘I’ll say I have. And not a change for the better.’
‘I distinctly recall you saying that you liked Scott when Daisy moved in with him,’ Mia said. ‘You thought he was a decent and responsible man who would keep an eye on Daisy. What changed your opinion of him?’
‘If you’d heard what he said to me you wouldn’t be asking that. Just once, Mia, it would be nice if you trusted my judgement and gave me your backing. When was the last time you ever agreed with me? Because for the life of me, I can’t remember you doing so.’
‘This isn’t about us, it’s about you and Daisy repairing the damage between the two of you.’
‘Actually, you’re wrong, this is very much about you and me. It’s about us as parents standing firm together. And while we’re on the subject, don’t you think we should have been told something about Daisy’s prospective in-laws? Right now, we know nothing about them. We have no idea what sort of people they are.’
‘Daisy’s spoken to them. She says they sound nice.’
‘Is that it? That’s the sum total of the information we have on them, that they’re
nice
?’
‘What would you rather – that they were horrible?’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I know exactly what you mean. So what happens next?’
‘You know what? I don’t care. I’m washing my hands of the whole damn thing. Daisy can go to Australia and make the biggest mistake of her life and I’ll just wait here until she’s ready to admit she got it wrong and comes home. As you’ve told me so often, I’ve been too soft and lenient with her, and now she’s going to have to learn a lesson the hard way. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve had quite enough for one day. I’m going to have a shower and go to bed. Goodnight.’
Other than driving to Olney to the DIY store or the nearest big supermarket, Owen had hardly stirred from Little Pelham since his arrival, and so it was with a strange sense of reluctance that he was leaving the peaceful seclusion of The Hidden Cottage. He couldn’t pinpoint precisely what was making him feel uneasy, but it was there all the same, a small, inchoate nagging doubt.
It was Friday morning and he was on his way to Virginia Water in Surrey, where he would be spending the weekend with Bea and her new family. Thankfully their divorce hadn’t divided their friends and so Bea had invited Rich, along with his girlfriend, Catherine; Owen was intrigued to meet the woman who had made such an impact on his old friend.
Bea had moved to Virginia Water when she and Steve had married; it was unknown territory for Owen, a place he knew only by name and what he imagined it to be – classic high-end Surrey stockbroker belt. With Wentworth on the doorstep, it was perfect for Bea these days as she had caught the golfing bug from Steve. It was through golf that they’d met. Having taken up the game just as their divorce was being finalized – as something to take her mind off ‘things’ – she had met Steve while having a lesson. Owen could still remember how animated she had been when she’d relayed the encounter to him, and then how equally mortified she had looked. ‘Oh my God,’ she’d said, ‘that was horribly unfeeling and inappropriate of me. I’m sorry.’ He had told her he was happy for her. That was the mark of their relationship, he supposed: first and foremost they’d been friends.
With Mia it was different. Right from the start Owen had felt a startling attraction for her, which he still couldn’t really explain. It was not unlike the effect The Hidden Cottage had on him; a natural magnetism.
Following her surprise visit last Sunday, Mia had come to him every day since, apart from Monday when Eliza had stayed the night at Medlar House. As soon as she finished work, she would walk through the woods and he would be waiting for her in the usual place, by the gap in the bushes. Greedy for her company, he had tried to persuade her to stay the night with him, but she wouldn’t for fear of village tongues wagging or a member of her family ringing late at night, not getting an answer and wondering where she was.
Yesterday she had managed to finish work early and he’d planned a surprise for her. He’d rowed them across to the island, where he’d cooked a supper of trout wrapped in foil on a campfire. ‘This is too heavenly for words,’ she’d said as they watched the sun slowly sink in the sky. ‘I feel as if this isn’t really happening to me, that I’m dreaming another person’s life.’
He’d taken her hand but hadn’t said anything. Everything that was on the tip of his tongue to say would have sounded clumsy or clichéd; silence had seemed better. He’d decided there would be plenty of time to tell her how he felt, that even though they had known each other for such a short time, he knew that he was falling in love with her.
Forty minutes into his journey, he stopped for fuel and called Mia on her work number in the barn. He knew that if he left it till this afternoon to speak to her she would be busy – today was when she had the photographer coming to take the pictures for the magazine article.
‘Good morning, Mia’s Hats,’ she said in a friendly but businesslike tone. He could hear talking in the background.
‘I’m sorry to be a nuisance,’ he said, ‘but I just wanted to hear your voice; I’m missing you already. Has the photographer arrived?’
‘No, but everyone else has.’ Her voice was lower now, almost inaudible.
‘Does that mean I can’t tell you how beautiful you are and that I wish I’d kidnapped you for the weekend so that we could spend the whole of it in bed together?’
‘Um . . . well, yes, that’s no problem at all. I can fit you in on Monday for a morning appointment if that suits you.’
He smiled into the phone. ‘God, I love it when you talk dirty, Mia.’
‘Eleven o’clock then,’ she said after a moment’s hesitation, ‘would that be convenient?’
‘Would that be for an all-day appointment? Because I guarantee what I have in mind will require plenty of time.’
‘An hour is normally sufficient, but if you like we can play things by ear.’
‘An hour? I don’t believe it! Short-changing me already! We’ll have to discuss that when I’m back. Now, my darling, to save your blushes, I’ll get off the line. Good luck with the photo shoot. And, Mia?’
‘Yes?’
‘This last week has been incredible.
You’re
incredible.’
Another hesitation. ‘That’s . . . that’s perfect. I . . . I look forward to seeing you. Goodbye.’
An hour and a half after Owen’s phone call the photo shoot for Mia’s Hats was well under way. Mia had now posed for the camera so often her face had assumed a stiff falseness that was making her jaw and mouth ache. Part of the problem was that she kept thinking of what Owen had said on the phone and the memory of it made her want to laugh out loud. She was filled with relief when the photographer finally said that she could relax and asked for the first of the models to come forward.
