Authors: Linda Gillard
Tags: #Mystery, #Contemporary, #Romance, #quilts, #romantic comedy, #Christmas, #dysfunctional family, #mystery romance, #gothic romance, #country house, #patchwork, #cosy british mysteries, #cosy mysteries, #country house mystery, #quilting romance
Rae drew herself up to her full height.
‘Vivien... I have something to say to you.’
‘Ma—’
‘It’s over. Do you hear? It’s finished.
Alfie’s dead.’ Rae shut her eyes and leaned on the banister for a
moment, steadying herself. ‘He’s
always
been dead...’ She
opened her eyes again and continued. ‘I have explained - explained
everything
- to Harriet. And now, I’m feeling very tired. I
would like to go and lie down.’ She looked over her shoulder as
Hattie took a tentative step forward. Rae turned back to Viv, and
said, ‘Would you please look after Hattie for me?’ Her voice
failing now, she added, ‘I want you to... to take good care of
her.’
As Rae crumpled, Marek launched himself up
the stairs, taking them two at a time and caught her just before
she hit the ground. Hattie shrieked as the doll fell from Rae’s
hand, tumbling down the stairs, its limbs jerking, until it landed
at Viv’s feet.
Upstairs a door opened and heavy footsteps
pounded along the hall. Deborah’s head appeared over the banister
and she leaned forward, panting. Her eyes widened and a hand flew
to her mouth. ‘Good God! Is Ma
dead
?’
‘No, she fainted,’ said Viv.
Deborah stared as her sister bent down to
pick up the doll. ‘Oh God, Viv, that isn’t— is it?’
Viv gazed into the doll’s serene and glassy
blue eyes. ‘Yes, I’m afraid it is.’
As Marek passed her, carrying the
unconscious body of her mother, Deborah’s lower lip began to
tremble. She looked down at the group of anxious faces below and
said, ‘Would somebody please tell me what’s going on?’
Marek carried Rae back to bed and Hattie went
with him to make her comfortable. Viv took Deborah back to her
bedroom, leaving me standing at the bottom of the staircase,
feeling useless and dreading the descent of Frances or, worse,
Alfie.
A door opened and closed quietly and Marek
appeared on the half-landing. He’d only been gone a few moments,
but I felt as if I hadn’t seen him in an age. I hadn’t looked at
him properly for hours, not since we’d come back to Creake Hall, so
it felt strange, watching him descend the stairs - this man with
whom I was barely acquainted, this new lover, so very much older
than me, with his silver hair and disquieting navy blue eyes.
When he reached the foot of the stairs, he
stood facing me and said, ‘I think I’d better go.’
‘Must you?’
‘I think so. The family needs time to settle
down again. They won’t want outsiders. I’m going back to the mill.
I’ve told Viv she can give me a call if she needs me, but I think
Rae will be OK.’
‘And Hattie?’
‘The worst is over. They just need
time.’
‘And kindness.’
He smiled. ‘Yes. That too. Viv will look
after them all.’
‘And who will look after Viv?’
‘I’ll keep an eye on her. Were you planning
to leave today?’
‘If I can. I don’t know if there are any
trains on Boxing Day.’
‘You won’t drive back with Alfie?’
‘No.’
Marek hesitated, then said, ‘You know you
can come and stay at the mill if you need to get away.’
‘Thanks, but I think that would just confuse
me further. I need to be on my own for a bit. Sort out all that’s
happened... And I have to talk to Alfie when he wakes up. Attempt
to explain.’
‘Under the circumstances, I don’t think you
owe him anything.’
‘No, I know. But I’d still like to try and
make a good ending.’ I looked up at Marek and said carefully, ‘He
wasn’t just a lover, he was a friend.’
His expression didn’t change. ‘Perhaps he
still is. Or could be.’ He laid a hand on my shoulder. ‘You don’t
need to close all the doors and bolt them, Gwen. You might feel
differently when the dust settles. When you get back to
Brighton.’
‘Differently about you, you mean?’
‘Yes. And I’d understand if that was the
case.’
‘Do you think
you’ll
feel differently
when I’m back in Brighton?’
‘No. But I still think you should take some
time out. A lot has happened and a lot of it happened to
you
. You maybe rushed into something because— well, just
because I was there. Because I listened.’
‘I never realised just listening could be so
exhausting.’
‘It depends what you’re listening to.
Listening -
really
listening - to pain is very hard. And you
waste energy trying to think of ways to help. But the best way to
help - often the only way - is just to listen.’
‘I do want to take some time to think.
Mainly because how I feel about you now is exactly how I felt last
night. That’s the point, really. I think I want to stop feeling
what I feel about you and do some
thinking
about it. I mean,
for a start, I live in Brighton and you live in darkest Norfolk. It
will require quite an effort to even see each other.’
‘And I imagine you’re not wild about
returning to the vicinity of Creake Hall in the immediate
future.’
‘No, I’m not. You see what I mean? It will
be
complicated
.’ He nodded. ‘I’m not saying “no”, Marek, I’m
just saying— oh, I don’t know what I’m saying! Especially not when
you look at me like that!’
‘Like what?’
‘Like you looked at me last night.’
‘Looking’s not a crime, surely?’
‘It is the way you do it.’
‘In which case, I might as well be hanged
for a sheep as a lamb.’ With that he bent down and kissed me.
All thoughts of an early return to Brighton
evaporated as Marek’s long arms enfolded me. His long arms made me
think of his long legs and one thought led to another, so that I
briefly considered dragging him up to my attic bedroom, but a door
banged upstairs and I heard brisk footsteps move along the
corridor.
Marek extricated himself and said, ‘I’m off.
You know where I’ll be if you need me. My number’s on the board in
the kitchen. I’ll wait for you to ring. If you decide to, that
is.’
‘Of course I’ll ring you!’
‘I hope you do. Take good care of
yourself.’
‘You too.’
He turned and walked away in the direction
of the kitchen.
As I watched his retreating figure, I called
out, ‘Marek!’
He spun round, his brow furrowed, his dark
eyes concerned. ‘What’s wrong?’
I hesitated, then feeling very foolish,
said, ‘I’m missing you already.’
He grinned and said, ‘Good. See you in
Brighton... Maybe.’
I made enquiries about Boxing Day trains and
drew a blank. Alfie offered to drive me all the way to Brighton,
but I declined. The thought of sitting side by side in awkward
silence for several hours was enough to reconcile me to spending
another night at Creake Hall, which is what Viv and Hattie wanted
me to do anyway. I knew Marek was right about the family needing to
close ranks and bury their figurative dead, but they weren’t ready
to do that yet. Everyone was braced for Alfie’s departure and none
of them believed they would ever see him again. I would provide
some distraction at least, a reason for them to hold things
together for one more day, so I agreed to stay another night. Viv
insisted she would drive me to Norwich the next day and from there
I could begin my train journey home.
Hattie and I spent much of the day sewing,
saying very little. We were both exhausted, but the silence was
companionable and I kept a watchful eye on her. I sensed that, as
she sewed, she was piecing her life back together again in the
light of her new knowledge. Every so often she would heave a great
sigh, but I thought it was probably a sigh of relief.
I was aware that, elsewhere in the house,
goodbyes were being said, some undoubtedly painful. I kept my head
bent over my needle, dreading the moment when it would be my turn
to say goodbye to Alfie.
~~~
Hattie made her way to the nursery and stood outside
the door, listening for noises within. She could hear Alfie moving
about, so she raised a tightly bunched fist and knocked on the
door.
‘Alfie, it’s me. Hattie. Can I come in?’
He opened the door. Over his shoulder, she
could see an open suitcase on the bed and clothes lying on the
floor. It was what she’d expected but she nevertheless felt
dismayed.
She took a deep breath. ‘Viv says she’s
explained to you. About me. Me and the baby.’
‘Yes, she did. I was very relieved.
Gobsmacked, but relieved. I can’t imagine how
you
felt.’
‘Numb. I don’t think it’s hit me yet. So I
wanted to see you, before it does... You aren’t staying for lunch
then?’
‘No.’
‘Is your flat habitable?’
‘It’s not mine, it’s Rae’s. It always
was.’
‘Are you going to give it back?’
‘Yes. I hate it anyway. Hate it because it
isn’t mine and because I keep getting bloody burgled. I’m going to
get myself a grotty bed-sit, somewhere so dire, burglars won’t
sully their fingers breaking and entering. I shall sleep soundly at
night and my conscience will be clear.’
Hattie laughed to keep tears at bay, then
said, ‘I suppose this is goodbye then?’
‘I suppose it is.’
‘You won’t come and see us any more?’
‘If I did, it would be as myself, not Alfie.
And I don’t think that would be fair on Rae, do you? I think a
clean break is best for her. For everyone.’
‘Will you revert to your own name now?’
‘I can’t. Equity names are for life. I’ll
always be Alfie Donovan professionally, so that’s what I’ll have to
stay. But I’ve promised Viv I’m not going to do any kiss-and-tell
stories for the papers. I’ll remain Rae’s son, nominally. But I’m
about to become Rae’s
estranged
son.’
‘Oh... I see.’ Alfie sensed she wanted to
say more, so he waited while she shifted from one foot to another.
‘Alfie, are you and Gwen—’
‘I don’t want to talk about that, Hattie.
It’s none of your business, in any case.’
‘Sorry. It’s just that I liked her so
much!’
‘So did I. That’s why I don’t want to talk
about it.’ He turned away and began to fling clothes into his
case.
‘Alfie—’
‘Yes?’
‘I want to say something to you. Something
important.’
He looked up from his packing, registered
the expression on her face and straightened up. ‘Go ahead.’
She clasped her hands in front of her as if
she was about to burst into song. ‘I just wanted to say... you may
not be my brother, but... you’re the only brother I’ve ever had.
I’ve loved you, Alfie. Loved you for the wrong reasons. Gratitude
mainly. Your existence meant mine was somehow less shameful. But...
I
have
loved you. And I really, really don’t want to lose
you. Please, can we still be friends?
Somehow?
’
Alfie bowed his head and appeared to study
the floorboards, then he looked up and said, ‘Oh, Hat... You’re a
complete bloody pain in the arse.’ He opened his arms wide and
Hattie flung herself at him. He held her for a long time, saying
nothing, then, when she was calmer, he put his mouth to the tangled
curls at her ear and murmured, ‘I think I might have missed you
anyway. The way you miss a wart, once it’s been removed.’
She hugged him with a force that drove the
breath from his slender body. He staggered, then laughed and Hattie
started to laugh too, her face shiny with tears. ‘You were a
rubbish brother anyway.’
‘And I’ll be a rubbish friend.’
‘Don’t care,’ she replied. ‘I need all the
friends I can get. I can’t afford to be too picky.’
‘Bloody cheek! You might at least put on a
show of being grateful.’
She grasped his hand with both of hers. ‘Oh,
I am, Alfie... Believe me, I
am
.’
Gwen
I was alone in the sitting room, sewing, when
Alfie came and found me. He stood in the doorway and said, ‘I’m
leaving now.’
‘Oh... Have you said goodbye to the
others?’
‘Yes.’
I secured my needle in the quilt top and
laid it aside. I stared down at my lap and noticed a tangle of
threads. I gathered them up, rolled them into a ball and dropped
them into the waste bin beside my chair. When I looked up Alfie was
watching me.
‘I feel bad leaving you here on your own.
Are you sure you won’t—’
‘No, Alfie, I’ll be fine here. I’m leaving
first thing tomorrow. I think the family will be glad of a bit of
distraction after you’ve gone. Everyone begged me to stay another
day. Even Rae.’
‘You’ve been a big hit.’
‘I suppose so. They’ve all been very kind to
me. I thought it was the least I could do.’
He took a step into the room. ‘Look, Gwen, I
don’t want to prolong the agony or the embarrassment, but I just
wanted to say, I’m very, very sorry things ended this way. I wish
I’d told you what was going on. And I wish you knew how close I
came to telling you. How hard it was
not
to tell you.’
‘I think I see that now.’
‘It wasn’t as if I could ever offer you
anything more than
Alfie. Alfie is all that’s left now.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Alfie’s just a part you play. It isn’t
you
. I always knew it wasn’t you, right from the start. I
could sense the discrepancy. The man who agreed to bring me here,
against his better judgement; the man who listened to the sad tale
of my mother’s death... That wasn’t Alfie, that was Tom. The angry
young actor who’s fed up with playing fops and wastrels is Tom,
too. You only let me get to know Alfie, but I
sensed
Tom. He
was always there. It was unsettling. Exciting in a way, I suppose,
the contradictions in you. But in the end, it became frightening. I
felt I couldn’t trust you. And trust means everything to me.’
He was silent for a long time, then said,
‘Will you be seeing more of Marek?’
‘I hope so.’
‘So there’s no way we can... start again?
You won’t give me another chance?’