A Winter Affair (37 page)

It was not surprising that Nick was such a coward, perhaps this time Freya really would chuck him out for good, but Alice didn't want him as a son-in-law. He was like an incontinent rabbit, though admittedly a very attractive one.

‘Does she know you're having an affair with him? News like that usually travels fast, especially in the country,' Alice said.

‘No, we're very careful. He loves me,' Evie said again.

‘That's not a good enough reason to sleep with another woman's husband, and anyway, I would say the only person Nick truly loves is himself,' Alice said, exasperated by it all.

‘I'll ring off now as I'm tired and I expect you are after your busy day and long drive… Take care of yourself, darling, love you.' She slumped back on the sofa closing her eyes, overcome by a wave of panic.

The telephone rang again and for a nanosecond she thought it was Julian ringing between meetings, or from a hotel while on a business trip, until remembering wherever he was he was beyond communication. It was probably Evie again, needing reassurance. She picked it up, her heart heavy, hoping it was one of her friends who'd cheer her up. It was Laura, her elder daughter.

‘Hi Mum, would it be OK if I bring someone over for Sunday lunch?'

Laura had a special way of asking for something if she knew her parents might not like it. Alice scolded herself for jumping to conclusions. Laura's main fault – if fault it was – was ‘feeling sorry for people', a kind trait in itself but one which had caused her problems over the years. She'd much rather have Laura to herself for lunch so she could discuss Evie's predicament with her, but she said as cheerfully as she could ‘I'd love to see you, darling and who are you bringing?'

Laura went on as if she hadn't heard her. ‘Evie's gone back hasn't she? She's told me about the baby, pretty stupid of her to sleep with Nick anyway, let alone get pregnant,' Laura said as if her sister's predicament was no worse than dying her hair the wrong colour or having a tattoo she'd live to regret.

‘So,' she went on before Alice could respond, ‘Evie won't be here, so you can really concentrate on
my
news.'

‘News?' Alice's heart dipped, her intuition was right. This lunch guest was obviously not one of Laura's usual friends. She didn't want any more challenges – emotional ones anyway – how could she get out having this ‘someone' to lunch? Why did she always say yes when she meant no?

Laura ignored her question, ‘So Sunday's OK, or Saturday if you'd rather.'

As if Laura could see her, Alice picked up her diary and opened it at the weekend; both days were blank. For a few months after Julian's death she had been inundated with invitations and, kindly meant though they were, she found it so hard sitting there on her own while others, still in couples, talked of the plans they'd made together. She was now getting used to making plans on her own.

She'd vaguely thought she'd ring a couple of friends and go to a film and supper this weekend but she hadn't got round to it yet. There were three more days to go after all, but now she wouldn't do it, she'd have Laura and her
friend
to lunch instead.

‘Sunday's fine, are you bringing someone special?' It was a minefield asking Laura such a question. Unlike her younger sister, she'd never had many boyfriends, and why should this be a boyfriend? It could be a woman… It could be… no, she wasn't gay, was she? Not that it would matter, it just hadn't crossed her mind. But why hadn't Laura said this person's name? ‘Someone' sounded… sinister? Oh, it was so much easier to question friends about their lives than her daughters, especially Laura with her tendency to read things into them that were not intended. ‘So who is your friend?'

‘Douglas Greenwood,' Laura said.

Alice tried to think of the names of all Laura's friends that had trooped through the house since her childhood; she couldn't remember a Douglas.

‘I've had a difficult day with Evie breaking her news, so I feel a bit senile, darling. I can't remember if I've met him before,' she said blithely, thinking it better to admit to it now than cause embarrassment when he arrived.

‘You haven't and he's asked me to marry him,' Laura finished in a rush.

‘Marry? But…' What a day for shocks. Perhaps Laura was winding her up, pretending to outdo Evie. Laura usually went on endlessly about the few men she fancied. Her father used to wonder if she really was having a relationship with them or was just ‘worshipping them from afar', as he put it, but she'd never mentioned Douglas.

‘Some people do still marry these days, Mum,' Laura said acidly. ‘I thought you'd be pleased, especially after Evie telling you she's having a baby with an old man who can't take his own marriage seriously.'

Alice disregarded this jibe. The two girls did care for each other, had been a wonderful supports these last months, but they also grated on each other's nerves and juggled with petty jealousies. Evie, always popular with men, had messed up big time now, but if Laura had found the man of her dreams, Alice should be relieved and pleased for her, even if she hadn't heard of him before.

‘I just didn't know you were with anyone serious, darling. I'd love to meet him. We'll have something special.' She'd splash out and get a good joint of beef, then, knowing the food fads of many of the young, she said, ‘He's not a vegetarian is he, darling?'

‘No, why should he be?' Laura sounded offended as if Alice had suggested he was a cannibal.

‘Just checking. I don't want to offer anything that might cause offence. I look forward to seeing you both then, about one.'

‘Thanks Mum and could we have your dark chocolate and orange mousse for pudding please?'

‘Of course.' That was a small, safe request after the bombshell of a coming wedding. Please God
she
wasn't pregnant too.

‘And Mum, Margot says she saw you driving a sports car with a young man – that's not like you? Who was he?'

‘How do you know it's not like me?' Alice retorted. Not like her? It
was
like her, a person she'd carefully wrapped up and put on one side to please Julian. Now with him gone that person had resurfaced again. If she had to be a granny she'd be a granny who'd do exactly what she felt like.

‘I was test-driving a car. He was… the salesman or whatever.'

‘Test-driving? Are you going to buy a sports car? I mean… Dad would…'

‘Dad's not here anymore, darling, and no, I can't afford a new car, especially one like that, but I just felt like driving one.'

‘Well we'll see you Sunday, Mum.' There was a small silence before Laura rang off and Alice half expected her eldest daughter to tell her to behave as her children expected her to behave, but Laura said no more.

It would be comforting to talk to Cecily about Laura's surprising news but the old lady would be in bed by now, though she said she barely slept these days. But perhaps Cecily had been right, Evie and now Laura were so missing their father they'd got involved with unsuitable men, not that she knew if Douglas was unsuitable. But it was odd that this was the first time she'd heard of him.

Laura lived in a bedsit in Battersea and was a legal secretary in a large, well known chambers. She often dropped round for supper and sometimes stayed the night, back in her old bedroom. She'd last stayed three weeks ago, strange she hadn't mentioned Douglas at all, or had she tried and Alice had not picked it up? Well she'd soon meet Douglas; only four more days to go.

*

The table was laid and the lunch almost cooked on Sunday. Alice planned her cooking meticulously, allowing time for Alice and Douglas to be late and have a drink before lunch so the beef should be perfect and have its ‘rest' before being carved. She'd roasted potatoes, parsnips and carrots with it and also cooked French beans and made Yorkshire pudding. The dark chocolate mousse flavoured with grated orange rind and Cointreau stood on the side and beside it a green fruit salad, grapes, kiwi, apples and melon. There was also cheese.

She wished they weren't coming now, or rather she wished Laura was coming alone – and Evie, both her girls without this baggage they'd laden on themselves and, by default, her.

She heard the front door open, rasping over the too thick doormat, and Laura's voice telling Douglas to come in and, pinning a smile on to her face, Alice went into the narrow hall to greet them.

Douglas Greenwood was so nondescript that Alice feared she might fail to recognize him again. She continued to smile, welcoming him in, knowing that Laura was watching her intently to pick up every nuance of her behaviour and would catch any sign of disapproval.

Surreptitiously, Alice studied him for some distinguishing mark that would single him out in a crowd. He was taller than Laura, with broad shoulders and mousy brown hair, grey, green eyes and a square, easily forgettable face. He shook her hand – at least his hand was cool and smooth, she hated wet, limp handshakes. He addressed her as Mrs Garnet; he was well spoken, though his voice had a deadening quality about it that even if he'd cried out ‘fire fire!' or ‘murder murder!' she doubted his tone would generate enough excitement for anyone to take action. However, would they get through a whole lunch together?

Where was that spark that came with love, or at least lust? He was five years older than Laura and seemed so sensible. She knew – from the dysfunctional men some of her friends' daughters had chosen, some, middle aged adolescents who seemed incapable of settling down, or another Nick – that she should be grateful for that.

‘I don't know if Laura has told you, Mrs Garnet, but we've known each other quite a time.'

‘Do, please call me Alice,' she said for the umpteenth time. ‘I must say I didn't know that.' Then seeing him throw Laura a fretful glance, she added quickly, ‘I've been a bit scatty since I lost my husband.'

He blinked at her like a wise old owl. ‘I'm so sorry about that, I would have liked to have known him.'

There was a lump in her throat but she ploughed on. ‘So, where did you meet?'

‘We met through work,' Douglas said.

Laura broke in impatiently. ‘Mum, it is not important where we met, we know each other now.'

‘But for how long have you know each other, darling?' Alice attempted to throw out a silent warning that as Laura was only in her early twenties, she didn't need to rush into marriage, especially with someone they didn't know. She'd feel differently if she'd chosen the son of one of their friends, someone they'd known since childhood.

Laura ignored her flashing eye signals and said, ‘We've known each other on and off for over a year and…'

Douglas then stirred himself. ‘I feel very sorry that I can't ask Laura's late father for her hand in marriage,' he said formally, ‘but I shall ask for yours instead. I have a good job and a house and…'

‘Do you love her? Love each other?' Alice interjected. He reminded her of the Prince of Wales when asked the same question at his engagement saying ‘whatever in love means'. She would not have been at all surprised if Douglas had mimicked him.

‘Mum…' Laura blazed as if she'd asked something more intimate.

‘That goes without saying,' Douglas cut in. ‘We are very happy together and my children love her.'

‘Children!' Alice burst out in dismay. ‘What children?' She turned accusingly to Laura. ‘You never said that there were children involved.'

‘Mum… I was… going to explain, but you didn't give me… us… a chance.' Laura's jaw was set in the ridged way she had when she was trying to justify herself.

‘Mrs Garnet,' Douglas began cautiously as if fearful that she might erupt and deluge him with molten lava. ‘I'll explain about myself and my circumstances.' He paused, sat back in his chair, folding his hands carefully on his lap as if he were about to embark upon a fairy tale.

Alice poured out more wine, gulping at it while thinking of Cecily's advice. Perhaps she'd take a gap year. She'd recently read an article about ‘empty nesters' setting off themselves to explore the world. What if she set off on one of those trips and left her daughters to sort themselves out?

‘My marriage went wrong very early on,' Douglas started. ‘I hung on for my children's sakes, but now it is over and I have custody of them.'

‘How old are they?' Alice could see the picture now. Douglas needed a wife and mother for his children – this was a job offer and, for whatever reason, Laura was about to accept it.

‘Eight and six,' Douglas said, ‘and they love Laura already. And for you,' he smiled the warmest smile she'd seen from him so far, ‘you will have two instant grandchildren and I knew the minute I met you that they will love you.'

But will I love them? Alice thought, poleaxed at the thought of having acquired three surprise grandchildren, in less than a week.