Lost Innocence (19 page)

‘That’s one way of putting it,’ he retorted, stepping into the picnic bench next to his mother.

‘Ah, here’s the champagne,’ Dave announced, spotting a barmaid toting an ice bucket and four glasses across the grass.

Minutes later they were toasting each other and taking the first welcome mouthfuls of a deliciously chilled Laurent Perrier.

‘OK, menus,’ Dave declared. ‘She forgot to bring them.’

‘I’ll go in,’ Nat said, getting up. ‘Anyone want crisps or nuts?’

‘Bring a few bags,’ Alicia told him.

As he walked away she closed her eyes and let the sheer pleasure of relaxing with her closest friends rise above her grief to warm her. ‘God, what a week,’ she murmured, stretching out her back. ‘Provided I don’t think about anything else I’m starting to get quite excited.’

With a quick look at Dave, Rachel reached into her bag and handed over a bulletin sheet with green print on a creamy yellow background. As soon as she saw it Alicia realised what it was and felt her heart sink. ‘
The Buzz
,’ she said, reading the title. ‘That’s original.’

‘I brought it,’ Rachel said, ‘because I guessed you hadn’t seen it yet or you’d have mentioned it on the phone. Dave thought we should wait to show you, but I think you’d rather read it while we’re here. There’s an article on the inside page that’s obviously directed at you.’

Throwing it down, Alicia said, ‘I don’t want to read anything she has to say. Just give me the gist of it.’

‘Basically she’s stating all the reasons why Holly Wood doesn’t want tourism, or businesses that might invite it. She goes on about litter and parking and people staring in windows, and how it could increase everyone’s council tax if there’s more rubbish to collect, and streets to clean and general maintenance required.’

‘The bitch,’ Alicia muttered.

‘I know. She’s obviously trying to spook your neighbours into thinking twice about supporting your shop. She doesn’t name you, of course, she’s too smart for that, but the message is pretty clear. She finishes up with a paragraph about certain permits that are necessary for retail premises to be used as a manufacturing unit, and how important it is for the residents of Holly Wood to make sure that everyone sticks to the law.’

Alicia was looking worried. ‘What permits?’ she demanded. ‘Is she right? Do I need one?’

‘Possibly,’ Dave answered regretfully. ‘I haven’t had time yet to go through all the sections, subsections and sorry-ass clauses in the council regulations, but judging by this I’d say she has looked into it, so you probably should too.’

Alicia’s face was taut with anger. ‘What difference does it make to her if I’m producing sculptures and a few items of jewellery at the back of the shop?’ she cried. ‘But it’s not about that, is it? This is her way of trying to make me leave. Well, she can forget it. Half the village has already been in to lend a hand, or show their support, and I just know the other half will be on my side if it’s put to the test. For God’s sake, it’s only a tinpot gallery. It’s not as if people are going to be flocking to Holly Wood in their droves to see my obscure little works. I wish.’

‘I’ll do some investigating for you on Monday,’ Dave told her. ‘It shouldn’t be too difficult to track down the right information, and if you do need a permit, we’ll get it. So problem solved.’

‘Depending on how long it takes. I need to open as soon as possible.’

‘You’re all looking very serious,’ Nat commented, dropping
an assortment of pretzels and peanuts on the table along with the menus.

Alicia explained about the trading permit, omitting Sabrina’s involvement in bringing it to her attention.

Nat immediately looked as concerned as she did. ‘We don’t want any delays,’ he stated. ‘It’ll really screw things up for the summer. Hang on, though, if the problem’s only about you making stuff at the shop, you can always set up at home in the old playroom until the permit comes through. I know it’s not perfect, because you really need to be on site, but I can run the shop during August and by the time I go back to school, hopefully the necessary papers will be through.’

Alicia beamed at him. ‘That’s what I love about you,’ she told him, treating him to a resounding kiss on the head, ‘you’ve always got a good answer.’

‘Bit of a no-brainer, really,’ he mumbled, clearly pleased with himself, and taking out his mobile as it rang, he barked into it, ‘Hey! Oh hi, yeah, I’m good, how are you?’

As he got up from the table Alicia watched him walk to the edge of the garden to be more private. ‘That didn’t sound as though it was Summer,’ she remarked, ‘which’ll make a change. They must speak at least five times a day.’

‘How was it having her to stay?’ Rachel asked.

‘Fine. She’s pretty easy-going, and she didn’t have a problem mucking in. Oh, I haven’t had a chance to tell you this yet, they had a run-in with Annabelle the other day. From what I can gather Summer gave her a bit of a put-down.’

‘Good for her,’ Rachel cheered. ‘Someone needs to. I saw the girl yesterday in Bath. Honestly, you’d think she was Britain’s next supermodel the way she struts about the place. Then she laughs and this awful raucous noise comes out of her that makes you want to cringe, or slap her, or both, and her friends are as bad. They’ve got more flesh on show than a butcher’s shop, and why do young girls have to open their mouths so wide when they laugh? It’s horrible.’

Alicia rolled her eyes and looked up at Nat as he came back. ‘OK?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, that was Jolyon Crane,’ he told her.

Alicia’s face lit up. ‘About your work experience? Is everything still going ahead?’

‘Yeah. Definitely. He was ringing to invite us to dinner next Friday.’

‘How lovely. Where?’

‘Apparently he’s booked a table at somewhere called Hunting Street House?’

Alicia’s smile fled as her heart contracted. ‘Huntstrete House?’ she said, thinking of the credit-card statements of Craig’s she’d gone through, and how many times that hotel had featured.

‘That’s the one. Why, is there a problem?’

‘No, no,’ she lied, attempting to brighten again. She wasn’t going to tell him it was one of the love nests his father and Sabrina had used to carry on their affair. ‘Is Marianne coming too?’

‘You mean his wife? Dunno, I didn’t ask.’

‘Well, I guess we’ll find out when we get there,’ she said, opening her menu. ‘Now, what are we going to have to eat?’

As they read through the generous list of local dishes Alicia was barely seeing the words. Though she’d yet to clap eyes on Sabrina, it seemed everywhere she turned the damned woman was there, like a nemesis waiting to torment her. She’d stolen into her marriage and all but wrecked it. She’d created a distance between her and Robert, and made it virtually impossible for her to see her mother. Now she was trying to prevent her from opening the shop. She was even haunting innocent conversations, appearing like a shadow behind the words, darkening their innocence and drawing Alicia back to one of the most painful times of her life.

She had to do something to break free of the woman, to create an existence that could no longer be touched by her, or her future was going to end up as blighted by Sabrina as her past.

‘Is that enough?’ Robert was asking Annabelle, as they dropped a sackful of straw into the boot of his car.

‘Yeah, I think so. It should be,’ she told him. ‘I just wish it was green, that’s all.’

Having no ready suggestions for how she could change the colour, he loaded in a large box of fresh vegetables, careful not to crush her precious straw, and closing down the boot he waved a thanks to Margie, who ran the farm shop, and got into the car.

‘So, am I still not allowed to ask what it’s for?’ he prompted, as they pulled out on to the main road.

‘Not yet,’ she replied. ‘I want to make sure it works first, but thanks for bringing me – and for paying.’

He cast her a glance. ‘Are you short of money at the moment?’ he asked, carefully.

She shrugged. ‘A bit, yes. It just doesn’t go anywhere these days. Everything’s so expensive.’

Since she had a healthy monthly allowance, which had been transferred into her account only a week ago, he was more than a little concerned about what she might be spending it on. However, broaching the subject wouldn’t be easy, given how spiky she was these days, but if she was squandering it on alcohol, or worse, illegal substances, which he and Sabrina had begun to suspect, then they needed to know. ‘How much do you have left?’ he asked cautiously.

She pulled a face. ‘I dunno. About twenty, I think.’ She turned to look at him, suddenly all pretty smiles and batting eyelids. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of an advance on next month’s, is there?’ she asked.

He was about to say no, when he swerved away from the absolute and said, ‘There might be if I knew what you spent your money on.’

A scowl descended over her features and she turned to look out of the window.

He threw her another quick glance, then pulled out to overtake a hay cart. ‘If you only have twenty left, you must have bought something quite expensive,’ he pointed out. ‘Was it a dress? Shoes? Make-up?’

She gave a short sigh and said, ‘Why is it everyone hates me having what I want?’

Raising his eyebrows, he said, ‘I wasn’t aware anyone ever criticised your choices, or tried to prevent you from making them. I’m simply wondering where such a large sum of money might have gone in less than a week.’

‘What is this, some kind of inquisition or something?’ she snapped defensively.

‘No, it’s me trying to find out if you’re buying things you shouldn’t be. Such as drugs, or alcohol.’

Her attitude immediately prickled with hostility. ‘No, I am not spending it on drugs or alcohol,’ she retorted angrily, and tossing back her hair, she turned to stare out of the window again, apparently sending him to Coventry.

Guessing from the tone of her response that he’d hit a tender, if not totally raw nerve, he felt a swell of dismay move through him. If he didn’t have to fly off again as soon as he’d dropped her at home, he’d be inclined to pursue the matter, if only to try to drum it into her how dangerous it was even to dabble in those sorts of bad habits. Better still would be if he could persuade her to mix with a different set of friends, girls her own age, instead of Georgie and the others, who were at least a year or two older. The trouble was, she and Georgie went back a long way, so he knew already that he stood almost no chance at all of convincing her that she could be running with the wrong crowd.

‘Do any of your friends take drugs?’ he ventured, deciding to come straight to the point.

Treating him to one of her superior, long-suffering sighs, she said,
‘No-oo!’

‘What about alcohol?’

‘Oh for heaven’s sake, everyone has a drink now and again. There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s perfectly legal.’

‘Not for you.’

‘Oh, Robert, please don’t go on. You’re starting to sound like Mum, and I always thought you were more open-minded than that.’

Wondering if that was supposed to be a compliment, he said, ‘Mum only goes on because she worries about you.’

‘Wrong. Mum only worries about herself and what the rest of the world thinks of her.’

He gave a sad shake of his head. ‘She might give that impression at times,’ he conceded, ‘but I can assure you, no one means more to her than you.’

To his surprise she didn’t argue with that, only returned to her perusal of the passing countryside, while fiddling
idly with the mobile phone in her hand. ‘If you’re right,’ she said suddenly, ‘then how come she’d never let me anywhere near her when she was supposed to be ill all that time? She was a real cow to me then, and I haven’t forgotten some of the things she said.’

Wishing he could stop the car to take her hands in his as he answered, but knowing she’d withdraw instantly if he did, because it was the way she always reacted when this subject came up, he said, ‘As I’ve explained to you before, she was going through a very bad depression…’

‘Yeah, yeah, poor Mum, let’s all feel sorry for her. Actually, I know what it was all about…’

Experiencing a beat of alarm, he said, ‘What do you mean?’

She shrugged in a way that seemed to sharpen her hostility and bring up more barriers than ever.

‘There were a lot of things going on at the time,’ he said carefully.

‘Yeah, fine, I know. Anyway, I’ve got to ring Georgie. I said I would at twelve o’clock and it’s already ten past.’

As she pressed in the number, Robert fixed his eyes on the road ahead, aware of the old bitterness and hurt travelling along in their wake. That damned affair was like a ghost, sometimes disappearing, but then returning often as clear and cruel as if it was still going on. At the time it had all but crushed him – worse still had been watching his wife suffering so wretchedly over another man. These days he was more able to detach from his emotions when the spectre raised its head, but not always. The pain was still there, along with the deep sense of betrayal, buried but certainly not dead.

He wondered if Annabelle really had found out about Craig and her mother, or if she’d been playing her usual trick of sounding more knowledgeable than she actually was. Since she’d become more attitude than personality, it was often hard to tell what was going on in her mind, but he was never in any doubt of how much pain and damage Sabrina’s erratic swings from hysteria to melancholy had caused her.

Annabelle was still chatting on the phone when they
pulled in through the gates, and after grabbing her bag of straw from the boot she disappeared inside without even a backward glance. It saddened Robert right to his core to realise how they were all drifting apart. He used to tell himself, during those terrible dark months after the affair, that once the worst was over they’d be able to pick up the pieces and somehow carry on as they had before. He realised now how naive and self-delusional that was. The betrayal and breakdown had changed them all, and in ways they still barely recognised or understood. It was as though the memories were continuing the destruction, eroding their bond and resisting his attempts to try and keep them together.