Eloise (26 page)

Jack stayed silent. He just stared at Ted, who was almost out of control.

Juliana was no longer conciliatory. She was bristling with anger.

‘How dare you talk about my daughter like that! Eloise was a naïve young girl – she was never promiscuous. She and Jack made a mistake one night, that’s all; and although Jack’s parents adopted her baby daughter and brought her up in Australia, Ellie never got over it. She thought about Isabella every day. And when she heard she had become a grandmother, all her instincts made her want to accept responsibility. Of course she wanted to see that Arthur was provided for.’

‘Oh yes, good old responsible Eloise,’ Ted spat. ‘Such a kind-hearted woman. It’s a pity she didn’t show the same sense of responsibility to me, though, the father of her daughters. I mean, what am I, just a bloody sperm-donor?’

It was my turn now.

‘Ted, I said to you before, that day on the cliff path, that you are consumed with self-pity. What sort of man rants at his dead wife because she hasn’t left him all her money? You’ve got the house, and a decent income to live on while the girls grow up. And you’re a successful artist. Don’t you think all this fury is beneath you? Where’s your dignity? And where’s your grief for Eloise? Your pity for the brave way she fought that horrible disease? And for the dreadful way she died?’

There was silence. Ted looked – well, I wish I could say he looked chastened, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked shifty. But he didn’t talk any more.

Chris cleared his throat and spoke quite gently.

‘Cathy’s right, Ted. You know that really. Everything you’re saying, it’s down to grief. And you won’t ever move on unless you come to terms with all that’s happened. And that includes the money. You don’t need Eloise’s inheritance. You’re a talented artist. You can make your own fortune, and take comfort in the fact that your girls are well provided for. A lot of men would find that a huge relief.’

Ted stood up abruptly and strode out of the house, banging the door behind him. We looked at each other.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Jack. ‘He’ll be back. He’s left his car behind.’

‘And his daughters,’ I said.

Juliana looked delighted.

‘Yes, that’s marvellous. He hardly ever lets me see them, just when it’s convenient for him. Cathy, I know that was all a bit upsetting, but do you mind if we finish our lunch? With the children back upstairs? Mustn’t let all that delicious food go to waste, after all.’

Much later, Chris and I lay in bed, reviewing the day’s events. Little Rose and Violet had had a lovely afternoon with Granny. Evie had had a dreamy day with Arthur. Jack seemed happy and at ease in our company. We drank a lot of wine, and nobody talked about Ted. We did talk about
Eloise, though. Jack asked lots of questions about her illness, and how she coped with it. Juliana supplied most of the answers, and, as she talked about her daughter, Jack became increasingly grave and sad. He lowered his voice so the children wouldn’t hear.

‘I wish I’d known,’ he said. ‘I would have come over to see her if I’d known. It was such a shock to get your letter after she died, Juliana.’

‘Yes, I’m sorry, Jack. But she was adamant that I didn’t tell you how ill she was; she was very secretive about it. She only told her closest friends. In many ways she was in denial. She hated talking about it. She thought acknowledging it in any way would jinx her.’

‘I can vouch for that,’ I said. ‘Ellie kept going by being positive and convincing herself that she’d beat it. It’s astonishing how upbeat she was, right up to the end.’

Ted didn’t come back for his car or his daughters and eventually we put them to bed in the bunkroom downstairs. Juliana was apprehensive about leaving them here.

‘What if he comes back drunk, Cathy? You know what he’s like when he’s had too much to drink now. Aggressive and hateful.’

Not much change there from when he’s sober these days, I thought.

‘And besides,’ she continued, ‘he’ll want to drive the girls
home. There’s no way I can allow that if he’s drunk. And he will be.’

I agreed with her. I suggested they all stay with us at the cottage. We had just enough room. The boys could double up, and we had a camp bed for Arthur. Evie and Juliana were happy to share. Thankfully my daughter’s bedroom was large, with a huge four-poster bed that was easily big enough for both of them. As for Jack, he could sleep in my writing cabin.

Later, everyone went off to his or her appointed rooms, and Chris and I went to bed. Chris was disgusted with Ted.

‘Christ, that man is a mess. He should be looking after his children above everything else at the moment. Not indulging himself by abandoning them while he buggers off to get pissed.’

‘What worries me,’ I said, ‘is that his anger about Ellie’s will has driven him almost mad. And that’s awful for the twins. Look at the way he abandoned them today. I don’t know if they’re safe with him.’

Chris’s voice was quiet.

‘Cathy, I know you’re worried about the girls. But I’m sorry. I do think you’re starting to go over the top again.’

Of course he did. I had to be careful. At least he’d seen Ted in his most bitter mood. I had to be grateful for small steps.

Chris said goodnight, but followed that with an admonition.

‘You really must understand that when you talk about Ted putting the twins in danger, you’re going beyond the pale. He’s not a nice man, I know that, but he’s been through a hellish experience. Don’t forget he looked after Eloise through five years of desperate illness. That changes you. Everything that’s happened, finding out that Eloise had a daughter in her early teens, and that she also had a grandson, has been a huge shock to him. Of course he’s going to feel resentful. He had no idea about his wife’s past and didn’t find out until it was too late.’ He kissed me. ‘It’s all right, love. Stop worrying. Ted will turn out OK.’

No, I thought, Ted won’t turn out OK. That’s what Eloise has been trying to tell me, and what I’ve been trying to tell Chris.

We were falling asleep. Despite my misgivings about Chris’s assessment of Ted, I was feeing really good. All my family was together under the same roof; not only them, but also the children and grandchild of my dearest friend. Her mother too, and Jack, whom she had loved so much, had settled down in my little cabin. I felt Eloise would have approved. I understood so much more about Ellie now I’d met him. I knew absolutely why she had loved him and I was sure that if they had met later in their lives, she would have married him. There was a tragedy there, I thought. How different,
how much happier, Eloise’s life could have been. But I was being romantic and fanciful. Ellie had had a good life, surely?

I slept, warm and happy, next to Chris. Tonight I felt his connection to Cornwall was as strong as mine. Which meant, surely, that he would want to keep our cottage?

In the early hours of the morning, there was a loud thumping at the kitchen door. I woke up, confused, to see that Chris was already out of bed, pulling on his dressing gown.

‘That bastard! It’s Ted, pissed and determined to wake the whole house up.’

He ran downstairs. I heard him unlock the door and immediately a massive row echoed up the stairs. I could hear Ted shouting drunkenly about Eloise, and accusing Chris of kidnapping his daughters. I heard Chris, trying to keep his voice reasonable, telling Ted that the girls were fast asleep, and it would be cruel to wake them up at this hour of the morning. Ted demanded that they should come with him, right now, so he could take them home to Fowey. Chris, still calm and reasonable, replied that he was far too drunk to drive, and the girls were safer here. Ted ranted that Chris couldn’t sit in judgement over him, and said that if he didn’t see his children right now he would call the police. Chris laughed and suggested Ted should do exactly that, and if he didn’t, Chris would. Ted asked where the fuck was he supposed to sleep
that night. Chris told him to sleep in his car. And that if he caused any more disturbance he would, indeed, get the cops down here and Ted would end up spending the night in a cell at Plymouth Police Station.

I heard the door slam shut, and the grinding of the key as Chris double-locked it. He came upstairs, annoyed but also amused.

‘Honestly, Cath, he’s behaving like such a plonker. An absolute idiot.’

He crawled into bed and fell asleep again almost at once. I was much more disturbed. Ted was dangerous, I thought. Far too volatile to be the sole carer of two vulnerable five-year-old girls. I didn’t know what I could do about it, but I resolved to talk to Juliana in the morning. Maybe we could get him sectioned, and she could look after the twins. Chris would know about that, I thought drowsily, and sank back into sleep.

God knows how much later, there was a shot. It was unmistakeable, and swiftly followed by another. Chris jumped up from the bed.

‘God, he’s at it again,’ he shouted, and hared down the stairs.

Chris had an airgun, which he grabbed from the cupboard as he left the bedroom. I saw him from the top of the stairs as he rushed into the kitchen brandishing his weapon.
Seconds later, Sam raced up the stairs from his bedroom on the bottom floor.

‘Dad, what are you doing?’ he yelled.

‘Stay here, Sam. That idiot’s got a gun and he’s very drunk.’

‘Dad, don’t go outside, please. Ted’s got a proper shotgun. If he’s pissed, it could be lethal.’

As if to underline Sam’s warning, there was another loud gunshot from the garden.

I could hear Ted whooping and I ran to our bedroom window. The garden lights were on, illuminating the pitch-black Cornish night, and I saw him open the back of the gun and shove in two fresh cartridges. Then he cavorted up towards the top of the garden, and my little writing shed. He almost seemed to be dancing.

But my attention was diverted by a scream from the ground floor. It was Juliana, in the nightdress I’d lent her. She rushed out onto the lawn.

‘Ted, Ted, stop this nonsense. We are your family. Your girls are here. Please don’t frighten them like this. I beg you. Come inside and let’s talk.’

But Ted was out of his mind. As he reached the little cabin, he shouted:

‘Jack! Come on out, mate. Let’s talk about Eloise, the little slut. Did you enjoy her, her body, when she was just
thirteen? What was she like? Was she firm and young? Did she have tits? Did she give you a blow-job?’

By now Evie, Tom and Arthur were up and in the kitchen. I flew downstairs, terrified of Ted’s madness and what they would hear. I ordered them back into the living room, with a pleading glance at Sam to keep them well away from the grown-ups. He nodded at me, grimly aware that this was a major crisis, shepherded them into the sitting room and firmly closed the door. I loved him more than ever.

Outside, Chris and Juliana were still on the lawn. Neither of them showed the slightest fear.

‘Ted, you are grieving and very drunk.’ Chris’s voice, strong and smooth, at his most professional, echoed strongly across the garden. ‘Come inside. Sleep it off. We’ve got plenty of room.’

But Ted ignored him.

‘Come on out, Jack,’ he bellowed. ‘I know you’re in there. I was watching when Cathy’s twee little garden lights showed you going in. Come out and let’s settle this, once and for all.’

Suddenly the door to the cabin swung open, and Jack stepped outside. He was fully dressed, in jeans and a striped shirt.

‘Go back inside, Jack,’ I shouted. ‘He’s got a gun.’

But Jack merely stood absolutely still, and looked Ted in the eye.

‘We were kids, Ted. It happened more than thirty years ago, in another life. And there’s no harm done.’

Ted, now swaying from side to side, sounded hysterical.

‘No harm done? No bloody harm? What about Arthur? He’s done plenty of harm to me. Him and his mother got
my
share of my wife’s money. And she never even met him. You’ve ruined my life, you selfish bastard. I don’t see why I shouldn’t ruin yours.’

Suddenly he stopped swaying. He raised his head and planted his feet wide apart. Then, to my horror, he lifted the gun up and took a steady aim at Jack’s chest.

Incredibly, Jack gave a half-smile.

‘Pull the trigger, Ted,’ he said quietly. ‘Unless that thing has a third barrel, you’ve run out of ammunition. You’ve already fired it twice, or are you too drunk to remember?’

I screamed.

‘No, Jack! He’s re-loaded it! I saw!’

The atmosphere changed instantly. It had been volatile and scary; now it was deadly.

Jack had gone white and Chris took half a pace forward towards the two men. His tone had altered entirely now, from the voice of reason to one of profound warning.

‘Ted, you MUST NOT DO THIS.’ It was a command, delivered in the deepest voice I had ever heard my husband use to anyone.

Ted didn’t move, but I saw him lick his lips and squeeze his eyes tightly shut for an instant. The gun didn’t waver an inch.

Chris spoke again, with the same slow, heavy delivery.

‘Ted. I am telling you as one of your oldest friends: you do NOT want to do this terrible thing. You are not a killer. But if you pull that trigger, you will become one. You may kill Jack, but you will have destroyed your own life as well. You MUST know that. PUT THE GUN DOWN.’