The Real Katie Lavender (13 page)

‘But Neil is different, isn’t he?’ Stirling had said. ‘He’s special.’

‘You’re both special, and don’t you forget it.’

As they grew older, there was never any rivalry between them, Stirling had been too confident in his own ability to feel threatened by a younger brother, and in turn Neil had admired his older brother too much to want to do anything that would annoy him. People often commented how exceptionally well they got on, and that bond continued through their teens, their twenties and beyond. Right up until now.

That was why Stirling was taking Neil’s death so hard. Perhaps it was that bond that had been Neil’s final undoing. Perhaps the guilt of his actions – taking money that wasn’t his – meant there was no way back, that he would never be able to face Stirling again. But Cecily knew that Stirling would have forgiven Neil for anything. And in a heartbeat. He would have found a way to put things right.

But why had Neil been taking money from clients’ accounts? What had possessed him to do such a thing? Maybe if they could get to the bottom of that, they might find a way to comprehend what had pushed him to the point of no return.

Tossing aside the bedclothes, Cecily swung her legs out of bed, placed her feet on the soft carpeted floor and sat bolt upright, stretching her back.

Ninety years old, she thought. Ninety. She had outlived her husband and countless friends, but to outlive her younger son went against the natural order of things. It was wrong. It wasn’t meant to be like this. Thank God she still had Stirling. And Pen, and Lloyd. They were the three people who now meant the most to her. Gina she tolerated, as she did Rosco and Scarlet. Maybe she would love Scarlet and Charlie’s child. Maybe.

The commonly held view was that blood was thicker than water; however, Cecily violently disagreed with this. To believe such nonsense made an insulting mockery of her love for Neil. And for Lloyd. It pained her to ask herself the question, but had Neil felt less loved than Stirling? She would stake her life on her having loved the two boys equally – fiercely and constantly – yet was there a possibility that Neil imagined that the strength of her love for him was exaggerated in some way, a subconscious overcompensation on her part? She hoped not. She hoped that in his last moments he knew that he was loved, no matter what he’d done. But wouldn’t that have made his final moments crueller still? To know too late that he would be forgiven? Tears filled her eyes. Oh Neil, why? Why didn’t you come to me? Didn’t I repeatedly tell you when you were a child that I would always be there for you? You only had to ask.

In her mind’s eye, she pictured Neil as a small baby, helpless and vulnerable, entirely dependent on her for his survival. If she thought very hard, she could imagine the weight of that baby in her arms, even the smell of him. He’d been considerably underweight at birth, but within weeks she had got him to what had been considered his correct weight. He had been such a loving and rewarding baby.

For some years she and her husband had tried to start a family, and just when they were on the verge of giving up and considering adoption, Cecily had discovered she was pregnant with Stirling. Overjoyed with his arrival, they vowed they would make their family complete by adopting. Their hearts were set on giving an unwanted child the chance of a life it would otherwise be denied. The odds then seemed to be stacked against them, as they went through a series of heartbreaking disappointments – young mothers who had agreed to give up their baby for adoption but who changed their minds at the last minute. Her sadness aside, Cecily had felt no anger or animosity towards those young girls, only a bittersweet understanding as to why they had realized at the eleventh hour that the baby they had given birth to was wholly precious. Then finally they were blessed with a baby boy. It had been Stirling who had named him, and to this day they didn’t know where he’d got the name from. But Neil was Neil from then on, and he fitted into their family as if he had always been meant to be a part of it.

So no, Cecily had no truck with blood ties being stronger than any other kind. Adoption went so much deeper than mere bonds of blood.

And yet, she had instantly felt something towards the girl who was now sleeping in her spare room. How to explain that? How to explain that mysterious feeling of knowing her? Of feeling a connection? And not just because she had recognized her younger self in the girl. It had been a far more profound feeling than mere recognition.

Katie Lavender. It was an interesting name. It conjured up a creative and generous-hearted temperament, a girl of steady and even temper. In comparison, Scarlet could only ever be a flighty, self-centred individual, and Rosco a dynamic, ambitious young tyke. While Lloyd’s name suggested a young man thoroughly at ease with himself. Which was Lloyd all over. He knew just who he was and understood exactly what was important in life.

At this late stage in Cecily’s own life, was Katie Lavender one last blessing for her? Was she to lose a much-loved son but be given a new granddaughter?

When Katie had been persuaded to accept the invitation to stay the night with her at South Lodge, and long after the last of the guests had been rounded up and sent home in their taxis, the two of them had quietly slipped away whilst Gina and Rosco and Scarlet were talking to Charlie and his parents. Katie had driven the short journey, and other than Cecily giving her directions, they hadn’t talked in the car, but once they’d arrived, and after Katie admitted that she hadn’t eaten anything that evening and Cecily had rustled up a sandwich and a slice of cake that Marjorie had made for her yesterday, they had sat in the kitchen and talked. Katie had said straight away how sorry she was about her son. ‘I know what it’s like to lose people you love,’ she’d said, ‘how much it hurts.’

There had been a genuine look of empathy and sadness in her face, and Cecily had wanted to know more, if only to distract herself from thinking about Neil. Katie had then explained that both her parents were dead, her mother had died only a year ago. She had then told Cecily about being summoned to the solicitor’s office out of the blue last week, and that being the first she knew that her father hadn’t been her biological father. She had also mentioned about a trust fund Stirling had set up for her. At least he had done the right thing there, Cecily had thought. Although, of course, money couldn’t make amends for everything.

‘Did you know my mother?’ Katie had asked.

‘Just a little,’ she had replied. ‘Fay was Stirling’s PA. If ever I had cause to ring him at work, I often spoke with her. There were times, too, when I met her in the office.’

‘I never knew that my parents lived in Henley,’ Katie had said with a frown.

‘They didn’t. As far as I can remember, they lived in or near Maidenhead. In those days that was where Stirling and Neil had their office.’

Cecily had gone on to say how she had guessed there was more than just a work relationship between Stirling and Fay Lavender. There was a rapport between them that was unmistakable. And then, a chance in a million, she had seen them one day. She had been visiting a friend in Reading for lunch and spotted them in a restaurant together. The thing that had struck her most was how right they looked together. Stirling had had a hand to Fay’s chin and was about to kiss her; it was such a tender gesture. She had never seen him like that with Gina.

‘Do you think they loved each other?’ Katie had asked.

‘You’d have to ask Stirling that,’ she had said.

Up and dressed and in the kitchen with Radio 4 on, Cecily thought now about that question. She had always been sure that as fleeting as their relationship had been, Stirling had loved Fay. Had things been different, Cecily would have preferred Fay as her daughter-in-law instead of Gina. Gina had been one of those young, beautiful women who drew men to her, like bees and the proverbial honeypot. She would have been the girl at school with whom everyone wanted to be friends, the one all the boys dreamt of asking out. In other words, she had been a catch. Stirling’s temperament in those days had been to strive to have the best of things in life, and Gina would have epitomized the best wife he could have, the perfect partner to support him in his plans for the future. But as beautiful and intelligent as she was, as excellent a homemaker and hostess as she was, she hadn’t been a soulmate; Cecily had known that from the word go. That, perhaps, had been what Stirling had found in Fay.

Not once had Cecily felt it was her place to say anything to her son. Everyone had secrets, and she hadn’t seen any reason why she should poke about in Stirling’s. The only time she had felt inclined to let him know that she knew about him and Fay was when he suddenly wasn’t his usual patient self, and he began spending longer and longer at the office, all at a time when Rosco was proving to be an exceptionally demanding baby and Gina was struggling to cope and probably longing for the days when she had been an air stewardess and travelled the world in the company of well-behaved first-class passengers. Sensing trouble, Cecily had stepped in and helped to take the pressure off Gina – it was the only time Gina had ever accepted help from her. Stirling’s change in behaviour, Cecily later realized, had coincided with Fay handing in her notice. Now Cecily wondered if that was when Fay discovered she was pregnant and ended the affair with Stirling. Had he been devastated? Had he ever confided in Neil? Had that been a secret between the two of them? Was that why it hurt so much for Stirling that Neil hadn’t been able to reciprocate and turn to him when he needed help?

Katie woke to find herself tangled in a long, flower-sprigged cotton nightdress. It was new, and still had the price tag on when Cecily gave it to her last night. ‘An unworn Christmas present,’ she’d said, snipping off the tag, ‘and not what you’re used to, I’m sure. Rosco gives me the same thing every year. I prefer silk, so much nicer against the skin, don’t you think? I usually donate the wretched things to Help the Aged, but this one slipped through the net.’

Katie didn’t normally bother with wearing anything in bed – occasionally she’d put on an old T-shirt if she was cold – but for the sake of propriety, she had worn the nightdress just in case she needed to get up for the toilet in the middle of the night.

As she wriggled around in the large double bed with its intricately carved mahogany headboard, trying to straighten out the nightdress, she felt like a small child again, cosseted in an older person’s world.

It was funny to think that Cecily was officially her grandmother. The grandparents she had grown up with had all died. For most of her childhood Fay’s mother had nursed her husband through Parkinson’s. When he’d died, and imagining that she was now free to live an easier life, she had booked a cruise on the Nile, something she had dreamt of doing ever since Katie could remember. But two days before she was due to leave, she had a stroke and died three weeks later. On Dad’s side of the family, his mother had died when he’d been a teenager and then his father had dropped dead of a heart attack during Katie’s first year at university. He’d gone to the doctor’s surgery with chest pains, and whilst he’d been in the waiting room he’d simply let out a sudden gasp, slipped off his chair and died.

All in all, Katie felt as if she had encountered more than her fair share of death. Worse than that, she was beginning to think she attracted it. Within hours of arriving here, the grim reaper had tiptoed up behind her and whispered in her ear, ‘Coo-ee, remember me, old friend?’ Admittedly she hadn’t known the man who’d died, but technically he had been her uncle.

Cecily seemed to be taking his death well, but Katie knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving. Cecily was very likely being strong for the family, just as Katie had done for her mother when Dad had died. Katie didn’t know what it felt like to lose a brother or a sister, but last night Cecily had said that Neil had been Stirling’s best friend, so the thought of Tess or Zac dying was the closest she could get to imagining how awful the loss must be for him.

And what about Ian? she thought guiltily as she stared at the gap in the curtains where sunlight was streaming through. Does he not get a mention? How would she feel if he died today? Sad. Yes, she’d definitely be sad. But perhaps mostly because she felt guilty about how she had treated him the other evening. She regretted now the way she’d taken her shock out on him. He really hadn’t deserved that.

She slid to the edge of the bed and reached down to the floor where her handbag lay. She fished out her mobile, which she’d put on to silent mode whilst working last night. She had four text messages and all from Tess. The first two were to say how fantastic Barcelona was. The next was to ask where she was and why hadn’t she replied. The last message was:
CALL ME!

She switched the phone off. As close as she was to Tess, she didn’t feel able to explain to her just what she’d got into here. Come to that, she didn’t know herself what she’d got into and what the outcome would be.

Her first dilemma of this new and strange day was: should she stay on for a while as Cecily had mentioned last night, or should she get going straight after breakfast? It didn’t feel right to stay when the family was in the midst of such a terrible tragedy. The death of a loved one was difficult enough at the best of times, but the aftermath of a suicide was far harder to bear for those left behind because seldom could anyone make sense of it.

Although in this instance, given the conversation she had overheard between Stirling and his son, the man’s death could be rationalized to a certain extent. It would be a lot for the family to come to terms with.

A knock at the door had her turning away from the window. ‘Yes,’ she said, sitting up.

Cecily came in, fully dressed and instantly putting Katie to shame that she was still lazing in bed. ‘Tea,’ the old lady announced. ‘I hope I didn’t wake you.’ She carefully placed the mug on a coaster on the bedside table, a faint tremble to her liver-spotted hand causing the tea to quiver in the mug.

‘Not at all,’ Katie said. ‘Anyway, I should be up. I should be going.’