The Other Child (9 page)

As he ate his lamb roast with mint sauce, not really noticing what he was eating, in his mind he was making notes on the other guests.

Chad Beckett, Gwen's father. As reserved as he always was, so you could not really see what he thought about his daughter's sudden engagement to this rather opaque Dave Tanner who had appeared out of nowhere. Maybe he was worried, but he was not the sort of person to express his worries, not when alone with his daughter and certainly not in a larger group. And he had never tried to oppose his daughter – not even when it would have been good for her.

Fiona Barnes. As up for a fight as ever, and as usual she felt herself responsible for the Beckett family – for both the daughter and the father. She was sitting next to Chad and at the start of the meal she had cut the rather tough meat into bite-sized pieces for him. Colin also knew her well from their summer stays. She often came to the Beckett farm. There she would either sit with Chad in the sun in front of the house, or cajole him into a walk over the meadows. The two of them would often fight, but in the same way that an old couple do, where the wrangling is almost a ritual they love and a special kind of conversation. Fiona Barnes was called an
old friend of the family
, although no one had ever said how the friendship had sprung up or how long it had been there.

Colin could have sworn that Fiona and Chad had been lovers at some point in their lives. Since Chad had married rather late in life, Colin surmised that the affair between him and Fiona must have happened before that. He did not know why it had not led to a stable relationship. Gwen had long confided in Fiona, and Colin always had the impression that Fiona was very dear to Gwen, who valued her opinion highly. As far as her planned marriage went, however, Gwen was not likely to budge from her decision, however much Fiona might warn her.

Leslie Cramer, Fiona Barnes's granddaughter from London. Colin had met her for the first time this evening. He had sometimes heard about her from Gwen. So he knew that her marriage had broken down not long ago. She worked as a doctor. After her mother's early death, her grandmother had brought her up and she had often gone along with her to the Beckett farm. So Leslie and Gwen had become something like friends, although you could hardly imagine two more different women. Leslie looked quite the part of the classic modern career woman – somewhat cool, disciplined and out to succeed. In the old-fashioned, rundown rooms on the Beckett farm she looked completely out of place. For a start, her chic light grey trouser suit just did not suit rural Yorkshire. Yet Colin could sense that Gwen's engagement party was not some obligation to her, something for her to sit through with gritted teeth. She had a genuine connection to Gwen, which had grown stronger over the years, and even to Gwen's taciturn father and to the dilapidated farm. Behind her well dressed and skilfully made-up appearance, she seemed lonely and even almost sad.

Gwen, the happy bride. Dave Tanner had been right. The peach-coloured dress did suit her. It put a rosy shine on her pale cheeks. She looked prettier than usual, but also tense. Gwen was not stupid. She knew that her fiancé was being watched suspiciously by all. She felt Fiona's aversion, the reserve in Leslie, and the unease which lay behind her father's silence. This evening was certainly not the engagement party she had hoped for. She tried to revive the faltering conversation, mainly – it seemed – out of the fear that too long a pause could allow Fiona to make a cutting remark or ask an inappropriate question. It pained Colin to see the strain she was under. He smiled encouragingly at her, but she was far too nervous to notice.

Dave Tanner, her future husband, sat beside her. Colin had seen him briefly once before when he had picked up Gwen with that unbelievable car of his. He was a good-looking man, who did not really manage to hide his material poverty from people. His hair had long been in need of a good hairdresser's attention, and his jacket, judging by the cut and material, came from a cut-price clothes chain. Colin thought that the shabby chic look suited him well. It made him look like an artist, a bohemian. It was clear, however, that Dave Tanner himself felt very uncomfortable like that. Colin, who possessed the ability to look deep into people, was sure he sensed something desperate and panicky in his manner. The man was under enormous pressure. Was he in love with Gwen? Colin doubted it. He had other motives for this marriage. Nonetheless Dave Tanner had clearly decided to make the best of it. Not a bad man, Colin judged.

Fiona Barnes saw things very differently.

Colin's gaze drifted to Jennifer, his wife. She was sitting at the far end of the table so that she could keep an eye on their two dogs, who were lying on their rugs by the door and sleeping. Cal snored quietly, while Wotan's hind paws were twitching wildly as he dreamt. Now and then his claws scraped on the stone floor. Jennifer looked … contented. Colin found this remarkable, for seldom could he really say she was contented. She suffered badly from what has been called helper syndrome, had a real struggle with her depression, was at a loss as to how to restart her career and could not get over what she insisted on calling
her failure
. At the same time she was a good-hearted person who did not seem to know what bad traits like envy or spite were.

From the first day on the farm she had felt responsible for Gwen's well-being. She was not free of suspicions about Dave Tanner, but she appeared resolved to ignore any hint of fear. Jennifer seemed to have reached the conclusion that Gwen should not be hurt or discouraged in this phase, whatever happened in the end. No doubt she secretly wished Fiona Barnes a million miles away.

Once Jennifer had served dessert – lemon sorbet with home-baked ginger biscuits – Fiona turned suddenly to Dave Tanner. The way she fired off her question suggested she had been waiting all evening for this moment:

‘Do you have any proper occupation?' she asked. ‘I mean, apart from those few evening classes where you try to teach Scarborough's housewives French and Spanish?'

The colour drained from Gwen's face, then she went red. She looked over at Jennifer, pleading for help. Jennifer had frozen, a spoonful of sorbet halfway to her mouth. Colin saw how Leslie Cramer closed her eyes briefly.

Sometimes she finds her grandmother excruciatingly embarrassing, he thought with some amusement.

‘At the moment,' said Dave, ‘the courses are my only occupation.'

Fiona acted surprised, although of course she had already known the answer.

‘And that's enough for a man in the prime of his life? You're forty-three, aren't you? You want to marry, start a family. You and Gwen might have children. What are you going to tell these children about your work? That you give some evening classes, and then only … how many evenings a week?'

‘Three evenings at the moment,' said Dave. He remained polite, but seemed tense. ‘I'd love to teach more,' he continued, ‘but unfortunately there isn't enough demand to put on more courses, especially as there's a second French teacher, Linda Gardner—'

Gwen saw an opportunity to change the topic.

‘Linda Gardner has become a bit of a celebrity in Scarborough,' she interrupted her fiancé, ‘for a rather sad reason. She was the woman whose daughter Amy Mills was looking after, the evening she was killed.'

Leslie sprang to her friend's aid. ‘There was a murder here in Scarborough?'

Before Gwen could reply, Fiona got a word in. ‘At the moment,' she said with an unmistakeable edge to her voice, ‘I'm more interested in Mr Tanner than the unfortunate Amy Mills. Chad …' She turned to the old man who was staring suspiciously at his lemon sorbet, as if he could smell some danger there. ‘Chad, I'm asking the questions that you should be asking. Have you ever had a serious discussion with your future son-in-law?'

Chad looked up. ‘About what?'

‘Well, about his plans for the future, for example. After all, he wants to marry your only daughter.'

‘All but nowt I can do ‘bout it,' said Chad tiredly. ‘And why should I? Gwen's grown-up. She has to know for herself.'

‘He's got no money, and no proper job. That should at least
interest
you.'

‘Fiona, you're going too far!' shouted Leslie. Her voice was so loud that Cal and Wotan both woke and raised their heads. Cal gave a low growl.

‘You're absolutely right,' said Dave. He stared at Fiona. Neither his eyes nor the expression on his face revealed what he was feeling inside. ‘You're right, Mrs Barnes. I don't have a proper job. Unfortunately I didn't finish my studies and didn't work towards any other qualification. And I struggle to make ends meet from the courses. But I have never claimed to Gwen that things were any different. I've not made a pretence of anything with Gwen, nor with any of you.'

‘I think you have, Mr Tanner,' replied Fiona calmly.

Gwen let escape a low, indignant sound.

Jennifer hid her face in her hands.

Leslie looked ready to kill her grandmother.

Even Chad felt the need to say something. ‘Fiona, perhaps we shouldn't get involved, especially us two?'

‘What do you mean,
especially us two?'
snapped Fiona.

His usually rather helpless expression changed. He looked directly and unflinchingly at her. ‘You know what I mean,' he said calmly.

‘I think—' said Leslie, but she was interrupted by Tanner, who suddenly pushed his chair back and stood up.

‘I don't know exactly what you are implying, Mrs Barnes,' he said. ‘But frankly, I'm not prepared to let you carry on treating me like this, even though this harmonious evening is supposed to be my engagement party. I think we've all had enough for this evening.'

‘Please, don't go, Dave!' pleaded Gwen. She had gone as white as chalk.

‘I'll tell you what I'm implying, Mr Tanner,' said Fiona. Colin thought that this old woman really did not have the slightest feeling for when to just keep quiet. ‘I'm implying that you don't love Gwen Beckett, that you don't even particularly treasure or respect her. I'm implying that by marrying you want to get your hands on the Beckett farm. I'm implying, Mr Tanner, that you are in a spot of bother, and the only way out you can see is marrying a well-off woman. You know perfectly well what could be done with this farm and this land, so near the sea. Marrying Gwen is like winning the lottery for you, and you want to win at any price. As for Gwen's feelings and her future, you couldn't care less about that.'

When she finished, there was a shocked silence.

Then Dave Tanner marched out.

Gwen sobbed convulsively.

In the warmth coming from the hearth fire, the sorbet slowly melted in the bowls. No one touched their dessert any more.

Sunday, 12th October

1

She returned to her grandmother's flat a little after midnight and was still livid, and somewhat drunk. Very drunk, she feared, in fact, as she had struggled to open the building's front door. Then she had gone to the wrong flat. Luckily she had noticed that she was on the wrong floor in time not to get a sleepy neighbour out of bed. Now she was in Fiona's flat and knew that she needed to take at least two aspirin, else she would feel rotten the next morning.

The door to Fiona's bedroom was closed. Probably the old woman was already in a deep and peaceful sleep. Leslie weighed up for a moment whether she should have a peek and check that everything was all right, but then she decided not to risk it. Fiona would probably wake up, and then anything could happen. No doubt they would get into such a terrible argument that it would be impossible, she thought, to talk normally to each other for months afterwards.

By the next morning perhaps the worst of the storm would be over.

Leslie crept into the bathroom and rummaged around in the medicine cabinet, finding an open packet of aspirin with two tablets left. She filled Fiona's toothbrush cup with water and dropped the tablets in, watching them slowly dissolve.

She could see the images of the terrible evening in her mind's eye.

After Dave had run out of the house, they had all heard how it took him four or five attempts to start his car.

Maybe he won't manage and he'll come back, Leslie had thought, although it was obvious that after such a humiliation he
could not
return, even if the alternative was walking to Scarborough.

In the end the car started and raced out of the yard, the engine screaming unhealthily. Gwen had not said a word. She stood up and left the room. They had heard her steps on the stairs: tired, slow steps.

Leslie also got up, but Jennifer was already at the door. ‘It's OK, I'll talk to her.' Jennifer threw Fiona a cold glance. ‘It might be good if you took your grandmother home now.' Then she went. Cal and Wotan got up, whining, and followed her.

‘Fiona, how could you—' started Leslie, but Fiona interrupted immediately:

‘I don't want to go home now. I've got to have an important chat with Chad. You go. I'll take a cab.'

‘You'll be waiting a long time for a taxi out here …'

‘I told you: I have to talk to Chad about something. It might take a while. So, either you can wait, or let me catch a cab.' Then she stood up and beckoned for Chad to follow her. Leslie could only watch in helpless anger as her grandmother, having just turned things upside down because she felt like it, and without sparing another word on the subject or showing any remorse, simply moved on to her own business. As if nothing had happened. That was so typical of her.

‘No, I don't think I'll be waiting,' Leslie had replied irately. ‘I don't think I can stand being here for another moment.'

Fiona had shrugged her shoulders. Leslie loved her grandmother, but she also knew that she could disappear behind a façade of untouchable iciness and arrogance when she did not want to deal with people or situations, and Leslie had suddenly remembered how often she had been confronted with that behaviour when she was an adolescent. It had really made her suffer. Old hurts resurfaced, painfully, and she thought this was perhaps the reason why she had said she could not stay on the farm another second.