Once Upon A Winter (13 page)

‘I’ve never understood how the words “retail” and “therapy” can go together,’ said Nell, huddling into the passenger seat of her sister’s car. ‘Least of all at this time of year. It’s mad out there, and freezing, and I don’t care if the lights in the arcade looked pretty, because the bags were cutting through my fingers, even with gloves on.’

‘You are one seriously weird woman.’ Emma shook her head, as if baffled. ‘I don’t get how you can hate shopping. Self-indulgent shopping, I mean, as opposed to supermarkets.’

‘A woman who loves going on wild spending sprees for shoes or handbags is another one of your stereotypes, Em. There are a lot of us out there who don’t fit that mould. I shop out of necessity. The kids needed Christmas presents, so I’ve been to town and bought them. I wrote a list, went to the necessary shops, and then
in
,
out
. No fuss.’

‘No, but you spent loads, Nell. Your credit card must be red hot. Take that telescope you got Joshua - it was the most expensive model the shop had. Compact, I admit, but bloody heavy.’

Nell suddenly wasn’t so garrulous. In fact, she clammed up. It was easier not to get on to the subject of her finances in the first place than try to talk herself out of a spot, especially as it wasn’t a short drive home. She was cornered in the car, and would have to put up with any interrogation her sister decided to direct at her.

‘You always give the kids expensive presents,’ Emma pointed out. ‘Every year. Although you just used to bring them up in a suitcase before now, so I’ve never seen a running total. I’ll bet you go without stuff yourself during the year, just to save up.’

‘You know I do,’ said Nell, quickly taking advantage of her sister’s conjecture. ‘I’ve told you before. I’m always putting money aside for their birthdays and Christmas.’

‘I guess. But you should treat yourself, too, now and again, Nell. Never neglect the person who has to take care of everyone else, i.e.
you
.’

A lecture. Great. But at least that was better than admitting she had been lying for the last seven years. Nell frowned out of the window, as the car trundled through the traffic towards the A55.

It was time for some online banking, in fact, she realised. That point every month when her account balance shot up, yet had nothing to do with her salary, not that she was drawing that any more. The amount never changed over the years, but had always been more than generous. A fixed sum, from a basic account. ‘
Support
’ being the only reference.

Nell had never lavished a penny of it directly on herself. A large proportion was divided equally into two children’s savings accounts which had been set up online; the rest was used to cover outgoings such as new clothes for the kids, school dinners and outings, and other such stuff, to keep Nell from ever sinking into the red.

She had never told her family about this. And the children had no idea, either, because aside from dipping into their accounts to pay for the more expensive Christmas and birthday gifts, Nell never touched the money she was saving up for them, and was always gratified to see the total snowball towards the kids’ adult years. Towards university fees, or cars, or gap years, or house deposits, or even weddings. That unknown future she could only pray held more luck for them than hers had.

In the bitter desperation of those weeks after Silas had left, Nell had been too furious to be truthful with herself or with others. In the white-hot pain of returning home from visiting her family with the children, and finding every possession of her husband’s cleared out from their home, as if even his fingerprints had been wiped off every surface, Nell had allowed the public
condemnation towards him to escalate.

Only the furniture, her own belongings and Joshua and Freya’s things, had remained in their rented, terraced house in a trendy, sought-after area of London. Silas had removed almost every trace of his existence, apart from all the photographs in frames and albums, or stored on Nell’s laptop.

The landlord had instantly assumed Nell would head to North Wales again with Freya and Joshua, back to her family, who could shield and protect her. And her father and sister had made that assumption, too.

Stubborn, angry, hurt and temporarily insane, Nell had perversely taken it upon herself to do the opposite. When the landlord had realised she couldn’t be swayed, he had offered her a job, and when she had asked to move out of the house, because it was too agonizing and expensive to continue living there, he had installed her and the children in the small but comfortable flat above his agency, recently redecorated and conveniently awaiting a new tenant. The landlord had even found a reputable child-
carer, who had looked after Freya and Joshua before they had been old enough to go to school.

Abraham Golding had been more than kind. Abe, as Nell had come to call him, had become more of a grandfather than an employer. Yet he had never made her feel as if she was a charity case, or that he pitied her or her plight. If anything, he had sometimes seemed strangely responsible for it.

Silas had taken the coward’s way out. But in spite of what others thought, he
had
left Nell a letter, even if it had said very little other than goodbye. And, in spite of what she allowed people to believe, he
was
in contact, if only in a financial sense, by allowing those monthly deposits to continue. 

I
n the early days, though, Nell had wanted him to be hated, even as she resisted her family’s attempts to persuade her to track him down and make him pay. Once, she had even suspected her father of trying to go behind her back, but nothing had come of it. And after seven years, Nell had sunk so far into her version of the truth she couldn’t ever see herself floundering back out.

‘Do me a favour,’ said Emma, jerking Nell
out of her introspection. ‘Could you call Gareth and let him know we’ll be back in time to pick up the kids from school? Or at least three of them. Ivy has recorder club today, I’ve just remembered, so she doesn’t need collecting until four.’

‘OK.’ Nell yawned, wishing she’d had
a coffee earlier, like her sister, rather than a calming camomile tea. ‘Do you want me to call his mobile? Will he still be at Bryn Heulog, do you reckon?’

Emma checked the time again. ‘He ought to be there. He was going to make sure Nana Gwen had the lunch you left her, and do a few repair jobs, like that tap in the bathroom you said was sticking, so I doubt he’ll have gone home yet.’

Nell’s brother-in-law answered grumpily after three rings.

‘He’s lying under the basin,’ Nell reported back to Emma, after ending the call. ‘Says it’ll make his life a lot easier if we can get the kids, so thanks.’

‘And was my husband his usual polite self?’ said Emma tersely.

‘What do you think?’ Nell sighed, and looked askance at her sister. ‘
Em . . . do you still reckon it’s his job, making him so moody? You said the firm had been taken over and he wasn’t keen on the new regime.’

Emma shrugged. ‘I’ve tried talking to him about it, but he’s so . . .
prickly
. And you know, Nell, I don’t have any illusions that things are going to be blooming and marvellous after nearly thirteen years of marriage.’

‘Mum’s and Dad’s was.’ Nell frowned. 

‘Yes, maybe, but every marriage has a sticky patch, doesn’t it? Maybe they would have hit theirs if Mum hadn’t died.’

‘That’s an awful thing to say!’

‘Sorry . . .’

They sat in silence as the car rumbled on.

‘Well, I hope you and Gareth sort things out,’ said Nell sincerely, at last. ‘Maybe he’ll get another job or something. Is he looking? Do all security guards need to work nights? Aren’t there any that just work day shifts?’

‘It’s not for lack of me suggesting that he looks for a new job, or even a whole new career, although the hazards involved in that worry me, too. Gareth and I aren’t exactly risk-takers, and we’ve got the girls to consider. I don’t know, Nell, sometimes he can just be so . . . apathetic. And then, if I say anything, he accuses me of nagging.’

‘You’ll work it out. I remember what you were both like when you first met, and when you got married, too - that doesn’t just disappear.’

‘Nell Jones!’ Emma shot her a surprised glance. ‘I wouldn’t have credited you with being so optimistic about romance and marriage.’

Nell chewed on a thumbnail, and stared out of the window again. ‘I just think some romances are meant to be,’ she said eventually. ‘Just as some aren’t.’

‘Pr
eordained, you mean?’

‘I guess . . .’

‘Written in the stars?’

‘I don’t know,
Em. Maybe I’m just being stupid. Maybe nothing’s ever “destined”. It’s just funny how people’s lives intertwine, that’s all.’

‘Like yours and Dan’s?’ Emma suggested, with a glint in her eye.

‘No!’ spluttered Nell. ‘I didn’t mean me exactly . . . Daniel and I aren’t -  we’re not
anything
. We’re -’

‘Still going out to dinner this Friday, I hope?’ said Emma firmly. ‘I’m not letting you back out. Gareth’s working, and the girls are looking forward to their sleepover at Bryn
Heulog. It’s been ages since I sat up late eating popcorn and watching movies. I might even paint my toenails. Or Nana Gwen’s.’

‘I’m not sure what Joshua’s going to make of a girls
’ night in.’

Emma chuckled. It tapered off into a sigh. ‘Is he OK, Nell, after last week? He seems to be, but you know him better than anyone . . .’

Do I, wondered Nell, wriggling her feet, which seemed to have stiffened up, even in her most comfortable boots. Out loud she said, ‘No one seems to have made a big deal of it at school, not even the mums, so it’s all blown over quicker than I’d dreaded.’

‘Good.’ Emma nodded. ‘But you’re still curious as to why Calista reacted like that in the first place - aren’t you?’

‘Am I?’ said Nell, faking insouciance.

‘For crying out loud, it’s me you’re talking to! You’re
burning up
with curiosity after what Dan said. I don’t know why you just don’t bite the bullet and go to see her. Ask her to her face.’

Nell hesitated, but then let her fear spill out in an anxious, nervous outburst. ‘Because I don’t know if I’m going to like what I might hear.’

There, she’d said it. And it seemed to have shut Emma up on the subject. But Nell had been too quick off the mark presuming that.

‘You’re scared because you actually believe there’s some truth in it,’ said her sister, unravelling the deduction as she went along. ‘You know Joshua’s different somehow, you just don’t want anyone to finally tell you
why
, or
how
, or
what
- if anything - you can do about it.’

‘I . . .’
But Emma was right. ‘How can Calista tell me anything, though,’ Nell demanded, ‘when the experts haven’t been able to pin-point “why” or “how”?’

Emma shrugged. ‘Maybe they were the wrong experts.’

‘But . . . what sort of expert does that make Calista?’

‘You know, I joke about her - about the fortune-telling act she puts on - but it’s like a mask, in my opinion. Since her husband died, you don’t really see her much around the village, not even in her
café. I think Meryl goes to hers to discuss the business, not the other way around. And when you do see Calista, she’s all dressed up like Gypsy Rose Lee, and I’m pretty certain she doesn’t act like that at home. I don’t think we’ve seen the real Calista Molyneux properly in a long time.’

‘And? Where are you going with this? I still don’t understand.’

‘If nothing else, Nell - Mum knew her. Calista was one of her pupils when we were little.’

‘She took piano lessons . . . ?’

Emma nodded. ‘I recall I was about six or seven - around that age, anyway. Calista was sitting on that bench in the hall - you remember, the one that used to be there? She was waiting for her lesson, but she was crying.’

‘How on earth do you remember that?’

‘Well, I know you were shy. You used to steer clear of “odd people” in the house, as Dad said you called Mum’s pupils, so I don’t expect you to recall Calista. But I do. She always brought me a lollypop, and one for you, too, but I think I kept them both for myself.’

‘Generous of you.’

‘She was really pretty,’ Emma went on, ‘with masses of dark hair; must have been in her late teens, or even older. She’d been taking lessons for years, apparently. Her parents were dead, there was some guardian aunt and uncle or something - I think Dad told me all this at a later stage, my memory’s not
that
good. Anyway, she had an older sister, already married and not living here in Harreloe, and it turned out that Calista was crying because this sister had died. I guess that stuck in my head to this day because I’ve got a sister, too . . .’

‘Oh.’ Nell jerked her head to look at Emma. ‘How did she die?’ she asked softly.

‘Leukaemia, I think. She’d been in and out of remission, but then finally . . .’