The Real Katie Lavender (35 page)

Now, a week later, she had invited Gina to join her for tea in the hope of making her see sense, or at least find a way to smooth the waters. But all she was getting from her daughterin-law as she sat stiff-backed and bristling with reproach was pig-headed intolerance.

‘I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,’ Gina was now saying. ‘Of course you’d take Stirling’s side in all this.’

‘I like to think I’m taking the side of reason,’ Cecily replied, trying to keep the tone of her voice affable.

Gina laughed bitterly. ‘Again, that’s entirely what I’d expect of you. You really think it’s reasonable for me to have to accept your son’s unfaithfulness as though it’s nothing but a trivial misunderstanding? Not only that, I’m expected to welcome the product of his tawdry deceitfulness with open arms.’

‘I don’t think anything of the kind. As I’ve tried explaining, all I’m asking you to do is let Stirling know his daughter. Is that so very difficult for you?’

‘He
has
a daughter. Her name is Scarlet.’

Cecily put her cup and saucer down with a bang. ‘Gina, please don’t try my patience. Having Katie in his life is not going to push Scarlet out of it.’

‘It’s already doing that. Scarlet can hardly bring herself to speak to her father.’

‘And who’s responsible for making that happen?’

‘Oh, so this mess is my doing, is it?’ Gina’s voice had risen and her face was flushed. ‘You’ll be saying next that it was my fault Stirling had an affair.’

‘Fault is not the issue here.’ Cecily sighed. ‘What’s important is that if you want to keep your husband and not cause untold damage to your family, you have to forgive him. He made a mistake, for which he’s apologized. He can’t undo that mistake.’

‘And as I’ve told you before, I’ll forgive him if he cuts all ties with that girl. I don’t want her in our lives.’

‘But why? Why do you feel so threatened by Katie?’

Gina looked at Cecily with undisguised contempt. ‘I don’t feel threatened by her. What a preposterous suggestion. And frankly, I don’t see that there’s any point in our continuing this conversation if you’re going to keep insulting me like this. I came here today in good faith, with the smallest of hopes that, woman to woman, you might see things my way and that maybe I could convince you to make Stirling do the right thing. I can see that I’ve had a wasted journey.’ She rose exaggeratedly from her seat.

‘Oh, sit down, Gina, and stop being so tiresomely melodramatic. I’m not insulting you. But carry on acting in this childish way and I may well start doing so. Really, you can be so thoroughly infuriating at times!’

Still on her feet, Gina’s eyes narrowed and her expression hardened. ‘Ever thought just how thoroughly infuriating
you
can be at times? Not to say meddlesome and patronizing, manipulative and domineering. No, I suppose not. You’re too busy perfecting your role as the high-and-mighty matriarch of this bloody family and taking sides. Always the side of your precious favourites. It’s Pen this and Lloyd that. How I’ve stood it all these years I’ll never know. But I did it for Stirling’s sake. And what a slap in the face that has turned out to be. What has Stirling ever done for my sake? Apart from humiliate me?’

‘He stayed married to you, for a start. He’s always put you and the children first. You can’t deny that.’

‘You make it sound like a terrible sacrifice, as though I should be grateful. But it’s no more than any good husband and father should do. It’s what I want him to do now, to prove that he really does love me. Why can’t you see that? Just once, why can’t you see things from my point of view?’

‘What poppycock! Insisting that he cuts Katie out of his life is your petty way of punishing Stirling. It’s pure spite on your part. You should be ashamed of yourself.’

Gina snatched up her handbag from the sofa. ‘I think we’ve said all that needs to be said on the matter. I’m going.’

Cecily rose stiffly to her feet. ‘Yes, perhaps you should, and before either of us says something that we’ll regret. But Gina, whatever happens from here on is entirely of your own making. I hope you can live with the consequences of your actions. Because they won’t affect only you; it will be Rosco and Scarlet and your grandchild who will be caught in the crossfire of your fight with Stirling. You’re going to make everyone very unhappy if you pursue your need for vengeance.’

‘And there you go again. It’s my actions, never Stirling’s.’

‘I freely admit he made a mistake; I’ve never once suggested otherwise. But the mistake you’re intent on making is one that could so easily be avoided.’

‘And screwing his secretary couldn’t have been avoided?’

‘That’s not what I’m saying.’

‘Then exactly what are you going on about?’

‘For whatever reason Stirling was unfaithful to you, it wasn’t to punish you. That’s the difference.’

‘In
your
opinion.’

In my opinion, my son married the wrong woman, Cecily thought as she showed Gina to the door.

When she was alone, she went back to the sitting room and sat down. She was exhausted. She was too old for this. Her wits were not as sharp as they once were. And her patience was certainly not as pliable or accommodating. She had probably gone too far with Gina, had pushed her into saying things that shouldn’t have been said. Yet she had done it because she so badly wanted to make Gina understand what she was in danger of doing.

Cecily knew Stirling; he didn’t like his hand to be forced. Everyone had a flashpoint, and if backed into a corner not to his liking, Stirling was liable to behave very much out of character. Just as he had the day of Neil’s funeral, when Rosco had made him so angry.

Many, many years ago, there had been a memorable occasion when Stirling had got into a fight at school and had been caned and suspended for a fortnight – the reason for his punishment was that with one perfectly aimed fist, he’d broken the nose of a particularly vicious bully who’d been making fun of Neil for being adopted. Bullying wasn’t taken as seriously then as it is today; in those days one was expected to assume a stiff upper lip and accept that it was part and parcel of growing up. Stirling hadn’t agreed with that, and had taken matters into his own hands.

Cecily didn’t think for one moment that Stirling would resort to violence in this instance, but if Gina didn’t relent, he was likely to do the one thing she didn’t want him to do. And as difficult as she found her daughter-in-law at times, she didn’t wish her ill. Nor did she want to see Rosco and Scarlet estranged from their father.

She closed her eyes and wished that she’d gone next door to watch
Countdown
with Marjorie and stayed out of things. Meddlesome, Gina had called her. Amongst other things. Perhaps she was right.

She felt herself drifting off to sleep. She tried to fight it, but with the afternoon sun flooding in through the window, she soon gave in to the inviting drowsiness, letting her thoughts meander back to the past. To Stirling and Neil as mischievous small boys. To them playing one of their favourite games, that of shrieking their heads off in the garden and chasing each other with a hose, and then turning it on to their father when he went outside to tell them to keep the noise down while pretending he was cross. William never was cross with them, and the boys knew that. They knew he loved them with a fierce devotion, knew also that he could not have been prouder of his sons, their achievements had been as significant and rewarding to him as his own.

William had been a rock-solid source of encouragement and support when the boys had been growing up. His death had hit them hard. He had left such a vast hole in their lives, hers included. And whilst she had long since learnt to live without him, she still experienced occasional moments when she missed her husband with an intensity that could stop her in her tracks. Whenever that ache of sadness made itself known, she imagined him telling her to pull herself together. ‘Come on, Cissy,’ he’d say, ‘you know the rules, no sloppy blubbing. I’m not worth it.’ He was the only person she had ever allowed to call her by her pet name from when she’d been a child.

He’d always tell her he didn’t deserve her, that she could have married someone so much better than him. ‘Shut up, you silly man,’ she’d say, ‘or I might start having second thoughts.’ When he’d been in hospital and it was clear he was near the end of a six-month battle with stomach cancer, he’d still managed to keep the joke up. ‘Cissy, this is your chance to find that better man,’ he’d said. She had gripped his hand hard and told him for the last time to stop being such a bloody idiot. ‘You are that better man,’ she’d said. He had died the next day.

They had had the happiest of marriages, and it saddened her that neither of their sons had found true happiness in their own marriages.

Oh, but how weary she was, and how she missed William right now. What she wouldn’t give to have him by her side as she fought to keep the family from tearing itself apart. Or for her not to be here any more, to slip quietly away to be with William instead.

Gina arrived home in a foul mood. She slammed the front door behind her, and glad that Mrs Perry, her cleaner, had already left, she marched through to the kitchen and flung her handbag and keys on to the table: the keys skittered off and landed on the oak floor with a crash. How dare that interfering busybody woman speak to her the way she had! Just who did she think she was? The sooner the domineering old bat died, the better!

She picked up the keys and immediately regretted the thought. Not that it wasn’t the first time she had considered how much easier life would be if Cecily was no longer around, but still, to think it with such vehemence was not healthy. So often a wish granted was a wish regretted. And they certainly had enough on their plates right now without Cecily kicking the bucket and making things worse. It would be just their luck if Cecily did die and put herself centre stage, just as she always was. That was why she couldn’t resist poking her damned self-important nose into their affairs under the guise of helping; it was her way of saying that she was indispensable. Gina had news for her! They would manage jolly well when she was gone. What was more, with no one stirring the family pot, they would probably get on a lot better. She was convinced that if Stirling didn’t have his wretched mother taking his side and poisoning him against her, he would realize it wasn’t unreasonable for a wife to feel the way she did.

Thank goodness she had Rosco and Scarlet backing her. Between them they had decided to give Stirling another week to make his decision. In the circumstances, she thought she was being astonishingly generous and patient with him. It was taking its toll, though. She wasn’t sleeping well and she had lost weight. She simply couldn’t understand why he was finding it so difficult to do as she’d asked, if not for her sake, for his children’s. Didn’t that mean anything to him? Didn’t he love her at all?

The answer to that question frightened her. She had always thought of herself as a strong-minded and independent woman, but she was beginning to doubt she was as independent as she’d believed. The reality was, she didn’t want to live without her husband; being married to Stirling was the only life she had known.

But it was too late now for her to turn back. She could not, and would not, climb down. She had to hold firm, and for the coming days she had to carry on as if everything was normal.

To this end, she took a deep breath and opened the fridge. Right, what to cook for supper this evening? Something that Stirling would really enjoy. Something that would make him appreciate what he had.

In the middle of a meeting, Stirling’s mobile pinged and lit up with a text message. He tried not to look at it, to keep his focus on the client. Normally during a client meeting he put his phone away in a drawer as an act of courtesy, but he’d forgotten this time and had left it out on his desk.

‘Go ahead,’ John Holmes said, glancing up from the papers he was reading, ‘I don’t mind.’

‘I’m sure it can wait,’ Stirling responded.

John smiled. ‘How do you know without looking to see who it is? It could be important. Go on. I don’t mind.’

Stirling returned the smile and reached for the mobile. When he saw who’d texted him, he kept his expression perfectly neutral. ‘As I thought,’ he said without bothering to read the message and putting the phone into his top drawer, ‘it can wait. Now then, where were we?’

As soon as the meeting was over and he’d seen John Holmes out, he closed his office door and opened his desk drawer. He sat down and read the message Simone had sent him.

Ever since his first text to her, which she had eventually replied to twenty-four hours later, they had got into the habit of messaging each other several times a day. She had explained that initially she had been wary of replying to him, uncertain that it would do either of them any good. He was glad she had changed her mind. He now looked forward to hearing from her. Perhaps he looked forward a little too much to her texts. He knew too, as he began keying in his reply, that he was playing with fire:
Can I come and see you again?
He hit send. Then sat back in his chair. He swivelled it round to look out of the window. The mobile still in his hand, he tapped it against his chin. He was tempted to close his eyes and relive being in bed with Simone. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t allow himself to do that.

His mobile pinged in his hand, making him start.
When do you want to come?
Simone had texted.

Now, he thought. Now, so that for a few hours I can lose myself in you, so I can forget about the impossible situation Gina has put me in.

Whenever he tried to discuss Katie with Gina, she refused to listen. ‘There’s nothing to discuss,’ she would say. Her mind was as closed as her heart was cold. Was that of his making? He couldn’t deny that there had always been an air of indifference to Gina, but he would never have called her heartless. Until now. Was he to blame for that?

He thought of the evening ahead. Of either sitting in silence or trying to make pointless small talk. A feeling of dread came over him. He couldn’t do it. He would go mad if he had to sit through another soul-destroying evening of watching his every word in the hope that she would concede.