Last Christmas (9 page)

Taking a deep breath, Marianne lifted the large door knocker. She realised looking at it now that she’d made a mistake before—it wasn’t a man squashing a serpent, it was an angel. The wings spread round the circle of the door knocker. How unusual.

The sound of the brass knocker ringing against the door echoed ominously, making Marianne feel more nervous than ever. It seemed aeons before the door opened and Humphrey appeared. His face was implacable and, if he felt any surprise at seeing her, he didn’t betray it.

‘Erm—is Sir Ralph in?’ Marianne was feeling like a total idiot now. What on earth had possessed her to come?

‘I’m afraid he isn’t, madam,’ replied Humphrey. ‘Is there anyone else you’d like to see?’

‘Oh, er, no, it was nothing, really.’ Marianne felt herself floundering. ‘I’d better go—’

‘Who is it, Humph?’

A familiar voice called from inside the house. God, no. She could picture him at the top of the stairs, just as he’d been that day. Her heart was hammering and she felt vaguely sick. She wanted to leave, but her feet seemed to be rooted firmly to the spot.

‘Oh, it’s you.’ Automatically, her heart skipped a beat, but Luke was standing at the door looking down at her as if she was something unpleasant on his shoe.

‘I’ve brought—I’ve still got some of your things,’ stammered Marianne. ‘I thought you might like them back.’

‘Put them in the hall,’ he said dismissively and turned to go. How could he be so cruel?

‘Don’t you…?’ Marianne was speechless. Part of her was shocked to the quick that he could be so unkind, and another part was furious with him. After what he’d put her through. After the promises he’d broken.

‘Will there be anything else?’ That charming smile, that mocking look. Once it had entranced her, now it was breaking her heart.

‘No, nothing.’ The fury had abated, as suddenly as it had come, and Marianne was just feeling incredibly sad and foolish. What had she expected? After the way he’d treated her at Christmas, it was hardly as though Luke was going to welcome her back with open arms, was it?

She dropped the box she was holding onto the marble floor of the porch, and it was with satisfaction that she heard something crack. She hoped it was the very expensive bottle of aftershave he’d left in her bathroom, which she’d wedged next to a couple of shirts Luke liked. Hopefully they were now ruined.

She went to the car and got the other boxes, and left them on the porch. Luke had gone back into the house, and Humphrey slowly picked up the boxes Marianne was
dumping one by one. This was it then, she thought as she put the last box down. All her hopes and dreams of the future were now definitely over. She might have made a life for herself in Hope Christmas, but Luke couldn’t have made it any clearer that she’d be living it on her own.

As she walked back to her car to go home, an old Land Rover drove up and Ralph got out of it. In a rapid glance he assessed the situation.

‘It might seem painful now,’ he said, ‘but at least you’re making a clean break. It will get better in time.’

Marianne looked at him bleakly.

‘I know,’ she said. ‘And I am getting better. But this…this was hard.’

‘Most things that are worthwhile generally are,’ said Ralph, patting her on the arm. ‘But this too will pass. You’ll see.’

He whistled and his dog jumped out of the car and followed him back into the house.

Marianne turned to take one last look at the house. Her hopes of a life with Luke were dashed. But Ralph was right. This would pass, eventually. Things, after all, could only get better.

Noel sat in the first-class carriage of the Virgin train speeding for Shrewsbury opposite Matt Duncan, who was getting carried away on a wave of blue-sky thinking about forward projections by which they could rationalise their objectives. Noel was too polite to suggest he stop bull-shitting and actually do some proper work for once. Besides, he knew that wouldn’t get him anywhere. Blue-sky thinkers were the future. Hard-grafting, precise engineers like him used to coming up with plans that actually worked were the past. Never had he felt more like a dinosaur.

Noel sighed and pretended to look at his own laptop, as if it could make this sow’s ear of a development into a silk purse. There was something he didn’t quite like the smell of here. Whether it was the smarminess of Luke Nicholas, who was meeting them at Shrewsbury to take them on site, or the self-satisfied air that Matt always projected whenever he talked about the eco town, but there was something about the whole project that made Noel uneasy. He dimly recalled seeing a comment in the files from one of the original architects about the suitability of the site, but there had been a falling out with that particular architect and no one seemed to know anything more about it.

‘This is us.’ Matt gathered his things together as the train slid into Shrewsbury station. They got out and made their
way to the entrance where Luke Nicholas was waiting for them. Noel sighed again. A whole day with these two goons. He didn’t know how he was going to stand it. At least he’d managed to get out of an overnighter, pleading that Cat needed him at home—which she did, it being half term. Not that he’d be much use to her by the time he got back late this evening, but it was better than nothing. He hated staying away from home at the best of times, but the thought of spending a night in a hotel with Matt Duncan was too much to bear.

‘Hi again.’ Luke held out his hand to greet them, and was interrupted by a distinguished voice saying,‘Well,Luke, me boy, aren’t you going to introduce us?’

Luke said, ‘Oh, yes, of course. Matt Duncan, Noel Tinsall, meet Ralph Nicholas, my grandfather. As head of the family firm, he thought he’d like to come along for the ride.’

Noel detected a hint of irritation in Luke’s voice but he covered up smoothly. His grandfather tipped his hat, and said, ‘Luke, I hope I’m not going to be in your way here, just wanted to see what you’re up to.’

‘And it’s a pleasure to have you, Grandfather,’ said Luke in a manner that indicated anything but pleasure. ‘Gentlemen, if you please.’

Noel followed them to the car, a faint smile playing on his face. He’d had the distinct impression that Luke’s granddad was up to something. This might turn out to be a very interesting day indeed…

‘So that’s that then?’ Pippa was helping Marianne stick crêpe flowers onto paper plates for the forthcoming Easter Bonnet Parade. She was using the half-term break to get them ready early, knowing that once school had started she wouldn’t have much time. Besides, Easter was early this year, it would be upon them before she knew it. In theory the children
were supposed to make their own for a competition but, despite it being her first Easter in Hope Christmas, Marianne had had enough experience of dealing with small children having temper tantrums because they hadn’t won, and their parents berating her for the extra stress involved in making the bonnets, to make her take the easy option. There were only twenty children in her reception class and she’d become a dab hand at making crêpe flowers over the years. Besides, she found arts and crafts therapeutic and today, every time she picked up the scissors, she was also viciously imagining what she would do to Luke next time she saw him.

‘Yes,’ Marianne put down her bits of paper and sighed. ‘I know, I know. Don’t tell me, I was completely bonkers to even think he’d have me back. You don’t have to tell me I’ve made a fool of myself. I’ve been kicking myself for being so pathetic ever since.’

‘Don’t,’said Pippa. ‘We’ve all been there.It’s a well known psychological condition known as the Heathcliff effect. However much the bastards kick us when we’re down, we can’t help creeping back for more.’

‘What, even you?’ exclaimed Marianne. ‘I can’t imagine you ever being as pathetic about a bloke as I’ve been about Luke.’

‘Even me,’ grinned Pippa. ‘In that faraway time before I met Dan, I kissed my fair share of toads. I was just lucky that eventually one of them turned out to be a prince.’

‘Oi, who are you calling a toad?’ Dan had just come in on his way to take the boys swimming with Stephen. Lucy was sitting quietly in the corner ‘making’ some Easter bonnets of her own.

‘Well, at least I got the most handsome one in the pond,’ said Pippa, laughing and kissing Dan smack on the lips. Marianne felt a wistful pang as she watched them. It must be so lovely to have that relaxed, secure relationship with
someone. Would it ever happen for her? Since the debacle with Luke, she was beginning to wonder if she even wanted it to. Being alone did also mean being safe from further heartache.

‘Right, we’re off,’ said Dan. ‘Come on, boys.’

The boys, who’d been happily playing on the Playstation, leapt up and disappeared in a flurry of excitement.

‘It’ll happen for you one day,’ said Pippa, as if reading her thoughts, as she waved goodbye to her family.

‘You think?’ said Marianne, feeling sadder and bleaker than she’d done since her break-up with Luke. ‘Sometimes I think I’ll never meet the right person.’

‘Never say never,’ said Pippa. ‘Besides, I don’t just think. I know. Somewhere out there, there’s someone for all of us. You just have to believe that one day you’ll find him.’

Marianne went back to sticking flowers on paper plates. It was all right for Pippa, it had already happened for her. She stared out of the window as the sun set across the magnificent hills rising from the valley floor, casting vivid oranges, pinks and purples in the sky. It was so wonderful living here. She just wished she wasn’t doing it all alone.

Gabriel was driving his flock down the country lane that led past the rain-sodden fields where the proposed eco town was to be built. The land fell sharply to the left and plateaued out into large, flat and very soggy fields through which ran a stream that was usually full in spring. The fields, he’d belatedly realised, bordered the edge of his land. He’d only discovered this in conversation with Ralph Nicholas, who seemed as unenthusiastic about the new proposal as Gabriel did. Gabriel had called into Hopesay Manor to see him and over a glass of whisky Ralph had confided that he had originally planned for there to be renovation work on the cottages at the corner of his estate. Somehow, in his absence,
this had escalated into a full-blown new eco town which, far from supporting the community as Ralph had intended, threatened to destroy it.

‘Can’t you do anything?’ Gabriel had asked.

‘Unfortunately the board have all got behind this,’ Ralph said, ‘and though I’m technically its chair they don’t actually have to do what I say.’

‘So, what can we do?’ Gabriel had wanted to know. Which was when Ralph had deemed it wise to show Gabriel his old map collection.

‘Useful things, maps,’ Ralph had said. ‘You never know what they’re going to throw up.’

Poring over the old charts, Gabriel had discovered an old bridleway, down which he was now herding his sheep, as was his ancient right from time immemorial, written into the laws of Old Salop. And, if he’d timed it right, his sheep-herding should just about coincide with the arrival of Luke Nicholas and his posh engineering folk from London, whom Ralph had assured him were site-visiting today.

Gabriel turned a corner and saw a car coming towards him. A sleek BMW M5 driven by Luke Nicholas. Good old Ralph. Gabriel watched the car slow to a halt as his herd of pregnant sheep baaed and fought their way round it.

Luke got out of the car looking furious.

‘What the bloody hell is going on? This is a private road.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Gabriel tried to look surprised. ‘Since when?’

‘Since forever,’ said Luke. ‘This land and this road has been in my family for generations as I’m sure you well know. Now get your sheep out of here!’

‘Well, that’s funny,’ said Gabriel, emphasising the strength of his Shropshire burr and scratching his head. ‘Because my family have been using this as a right of way to herd our sheep for generations. I’m only getting my flock off the
hillsides ready for lambing. You can’t stop me exercising my ancient rights.’

‘Oh, can’t I?’ Luke was angrier than ever. ‘We’ll see about that. Oh shit!’

Casting another furious look at Gabriel, Luke tried to wipe the sheep dung from his foot in as dignified a manner as possible. Gabriel did his best to keep a blank look on his face as he whistled to Benjy and shooed his sheep past Luke’s car.

Luke was bound to find a way round the ancient right to roam thing, his sort always did. But in the meantime, as Ralph had pointed out to him, they’d bought themselves a little more time, and with any luck put Luke on the wrong footing with his friends from London. Gabriel grinned as he passed Luke’s car, from where Ralph directed a broad wink at him, and drove his flock baaing and stumbling their way down the road towards home. If nothing else, it had been worth it to see the look on Luke’s face…

The secret to a happy half term is organisation…
trilled the Happy Homemaker into Cat’s computer. The Happy Homemaker always trilled. She was that kind of woman. God, how Cat loathed her, particularly as she was listening to the chaos downstairs as Magda screamed, ‘James! You must come and tidy your room now. Your mother said!’ and she could hear the dulcet tones of Ruby and Paige fighting—again. Melanie was mooching miserably in her room, no doubt texting her friends to say what a terrible life she had, following her parents’ inexplicable refusal to let her go and see the latest must-see action adventure film, which, sadly for Melanie, had a 15 certificate. Cat might have relented, but she’d seen a clip of it last time she’d been at the cinema and there’d been a torture scene that had made both her and Noel wince.

If you keep the children organised and busy, you will automatically find the days progress smoothly with few fights and arguments. As it is often difficult at this time of year to guarantee outside activities
—Cat shivered and wrapped herself more tightly in her fleece. One day Noel would keep his promise and redo her study with some insulation in it—
try to organise visits indoors. Go to a museum or visit an aquarium or a waxworks museum.
Cat scrubbed the last sentence—she knew it would bring forth the normal response in her comments section about it being all right for people who lived in London, as if living in the capital were some kind of crime. The bloggy world was in the main a benign place, but there were some odd people out there and occasionally they took delight in surfacing on her blog. She wrote instead,
If you aren’t lucky enough to have a nearby museum, why not try bowling, or go swimming at your local leisure centre? And, failing all else, you could do worse than spend a rainy afternoon playing games like Scrabble or Monopoly…

‘Except, I’m sure in
your
house your children would be well behaved enough not to squabble over every bloody move,’ Catherine said out loud. How much easier to live in the world of the Happy Homemaker whose children would always obligingly play games together beautifully, create wonderful art and craft collages, spend hours playing poohsticks in the park…Cat had to hand it to herself, she couldn’t have created a more perfect and unrealistic picture of parenthood if she’d tried.

The chaos downstairs seemed to have died down, which was a relief, as Cat didn’t think she could cope with yet another lecture from Angela about her failings as a parent. Her mother-in-law, despite her stay coinciding with half term, hadn’t yet managed to offer to do anything useful with the children, although she had at least taken to going
out on a cultural tour of duty of the capital. Somehow Cat didn’t think the kids would have been all that wowed by the prospect of visiting the National Gallery—they found Tate Modern or being dragged round the Tower of London enough of a chore.

Cat went back to the Happy Homemaker again. What other pearls of wisdom could she dispense? Were there any about dealing with stroppy teenagers and mums who were losing their marbles? Mum seemed so distracted of late. Recently she’d not only forgotten a recipe for a raspberry cheesecake that Cat had wanted to include in the book and which Mum had made countless times over the years but, to Cat’s dismay, she’d nearly had her electricity cut off for not paying her bill.

Mum had made light of it, but Cat was beginning to worry that she was hiding something from her. Maybe she had some kind of financial worry that she was too proud to mention? There was no point trying to talk to Mum about it, though. Knowing her as well as she did, Cat knew that if there was a problem she would be keeping it from Cat so as not to ‘worry’ her. Maybe Cat should ring Auntie Eileen instead. If anyone knew if Mum was having money worries, it would be her. Cat picked up the phone and dialled the number. It was probably nothing, but at least she could put her mind at rest.