No Place to Hide (14 page)

“I’m sure that won’t happen.” Justine smiled, knowing that Matt, in spite of not being a big Madonna fan, would never let her down.

“Ben, Chantal,” Abby shouted, turning to them, “come on, we’re going to practice our carols. We need to have them right for when Dad gets home in the morning.”

“We’re having our tea here,” Ben protested.

Abby spun round to her mother. “Can I have tea here too?”

“Of course. Where’s Wesley? Did he go shopping with you?”

“No, he’s with his grandpa today. We need him for rehearsals, though, so I should ring him, and I would
if I had a mobile phone.
”

“You’ll have to see what Father Christmas brings,” Justine told her, adoring and fearing for how flighty and gorgeous Abby looked with her long wavy blond hair, jaunty red beret, and mascaraed lashes. She was growing up so fast. Already there was an air of sophistication about her that Justine was sure she hadn’t had at that age, and she couldn’t say she’d noticed it in many of Abby’s friends either—at least apart from those in her girl band, so maybe it was the music and pop-star ambition that was rocketing Abby so rapidly out of childhood.

She’d talk to Matt about it, see what might be done, as if anything could be. After all, they were hardly going to discourage Abby’s love of music and performing; it meant everything to her. And as much as they might want their children to stay young forever, it was never going to be in their power to make it possible. They probably just ought to come to terms with it and feel proud of their many achievements.

—

Matt was as thrilled with the carols the children performed for him when he got back the next morning as they were with the gifts he’d brought from LA. There was something for everyone, including Chantal, Wesley, Nelly, and Neil, although nothing too big, with Christmas only two days away. For Justine, however, there was a two-carat diamond pendant from Tiffany that just about took her breath away. She realized, of course, that he didn’t think it would make up for the baby; it was simply his way of saying how sorry he was for what she’d been through, and how much he loved her.

Quite how deeply he was grieving himself was hard to tell, as, taking his cue from her, he immediately threw himself into the children’s excitement. What was the point of bringing him down by forcing him to talk? The baby was gone now, they couldn’t bring it back, so it was important that they focus on those they already had and loved so much.

Christmas Day turned out to be as hectic, emotional, hilarious, and surprising as it was most years—surprising this time not only because of all the unexpected presents, but because, true to her word, Camilla came to stay. Though she wasn’t known for letting her hair down and mucking in where needed, after a few glasses of champagne her high-heeled shoes came off, and she was spread-eagled against the sitting-room door, where Wesley had hung his new magnetic dartboard. The game was to see how many darts he and Ben could throw around their human targets without hitting them. Since both boys were on the school archery team they were excellent shots, and luckily no one had been injured by the time the game ended in a draw. The next time Justine saw her mother she had a sparkly pink party hat perched rakishly on her perfect hairdo and was singing “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree” with Gina’s dad into Abby’s new karaoke machine.

Justine and Rob couldn’t remember ever seeing her tipsy, never mind having such a good time.

“Who is this person?” Rob muttered as he passed Justine in the busy kitchen. “And what has she done with our stuffy mother?”

Choking on a laugh, Justine said, “We have to get her drunk more often. It brings out the human being in her—or the grandmother, anyway.”

“You’re not kidding. Can you believe she’s actually saying she wants to come and watch rugby with us guys tomorrow?”

Justine nearly dropped a tray of roasters. “Fifty quid says she won’t,” she declared, allowing Cheryl to take the tray while Simon scooted in behind them to fetch more vino.

“We’re not all as flush as you, so make it twenty and it’s a deal.”

Justine won the bet. Her mother was way too hung over the next day to venture far from the house. She even had to pull out of the shopping trip she’d promised Francine and Abby, apparently not having realized it would clash with the rugby.

Since it was raining again and the temperature had dropped to freezing, Justine didn’t feel much like going out either, so, leaving Maggie and Gina to take the girls to the Boxing Day sales, she bundled the boys off to the game with flasks of hot soup and plenty of homemade mince pies and felt a flood of relief as quiet descended.

Soon, however, she became aware of the awkwardness of being alone with her mother. This was a situation she couldn’t remember being in since…Maybe it was since she’d asked to borrow the money to close the deal on the farmhouse. She’d taken great pleasure in paying it back, in full, some years ago, enclosing a stiff little note with the check that had gone along the lines of:
So kind of you to help out when needed. Hope repayment hasn’t taken too long to come. Let me know if you’d like any interest. Jx

She’d felt terrible afterward, especially when her mother emailed her thanks with an assurance that no interest was required, and she would divide the sum between the children and put it into the accounts she’d opened for them after they were born.

“So, how are you?” they both said at once as they settled either side of the roaring fire with cups of hot coffee and a plate of Turkish delight between them. Though Justine couldn’t stand the stuff herself, she was sure it had long been one of her mother’s favorites, which was why she’d put it out.

“You first,” Justine insisted.

Camilla didn’t look thrilled. “I was sorry,” she began, “to hear about the baby.”

As the words inflamed the loss, Justine’s eyes drifted to the flickering Christmas tree.

“You don’t want to talk about it,” Camilla stated.

Justine shrugged. “I guess not. It won’t change anything, so it’s best to get over it.”

Camilla didn’t argue, simply sipped her coffee and gazed up at the mantelpiece, where the children’s handmade cards for their parents were proudly displayed. “They made one for me too,” she said softly. “I was very touched by that.”

“They do every year,” Justine told her. “You’re just not around for them to give it to you.”

Of course they could have sent it, but they’d always preferred giving their special cards in person, or Abby did. Justine didn’t suppose Ben much minded either way, although he still made them, so she was sure he got just as much pleasure out of watching the recipients’ eyes light up as Abby did.

“I enjoyed yesterday very much,” Camilla admitted. “Rob’s always told me I don’t know what I’m missing out on, not coming here for Christmas, and he’s right, you make it very special, for everyone.”

Unused to compliments from her mother, Justine shifted in her chair. “You’re always welcome,” she said, “you know that.”

Camilla nodded, and her eyes still didn’t meet Justine’s as she drank some coffee.

To fill the silence, Justine said, “What kind of Christmases did you have when you were a child?”

As Camilla’s eyebrows arched, a fleeting smile seemed to warm her paleness. “They were usually good,” she replied. “Your grandmother was much like you in the way she liked to cook and entertain. I remember the house in New Hope was always full of people. Heaven only knew who they all were. Arty types mostly, I think, and I guess some were family…My father liked to dress up as Santa Claus, and I seem to remember much alcohol being consumed.”

Liking the image, Justine asked, “What happened to him? You never talk about him. Actually, about either of them.” Of course Camilla knew that, but for once Justine was sensing she might actually get somewhere.

Keeping her eyes down, Camilla said, “He died when you were about three; Rob had just been born. We were still in the States then. It was a terrible shock. No one expected it.”

“What did he die of?”

“He—uh, he had a heart attack.”

Getting the impression that wasn’t entirely true, Justine said, “Were you close?”

Camilla swallowed as she nodded. “Yes, we were.”

“What did he do?”

“He was in banking.” Camilla’s laugh was empty. “ ‘Neither a borrower nor a lender be,’ he used to say to me, which was odd coming from someone who made a fortune out of doing just that.” After a moment she said, “He came to Europe during the war. That was before I was born, of course, before he even knew your grandmother. He was with the 82nd Airborne Division during the Normandy landings.”

Surprised, Justine said, “You’ve never mentioned that before.”

Camilla shook her head. “Haven’t I? I guess he never talked about it much, so that’s really all I know.”

“What about how he and Grandma met? Did they ever tell you that?”

Camilla’s head dropped against the wing of the chair. “If they ever did, I’ve forgotten now. Actually, no, I think it was in Italy. Rome. That’s right. She was on vacation with her mother and aunt, and he was some kind of diplomat at the U.S. embassy there. That would have been around ’47, ’48. Your grandma always used to tease him he was working for the CIA, but I don’t think that’s true.”

“How about her? Did she ever work?”

“Not really, or not that I ever knew of. Maybe after…” She stiffened slightly, and Justine could tell she was changing what she’d been about to say. “After we came to England, you, me, Daddy and Rob…She might have done something then, but we weren’t in touch, so I never really knew what she was up to.”

“Why weren’t you?”

“Someone said she gave up the place in New Hope and moved to the lake house. If she did…” She took a breath. “It doesn’t matter now. It was all such a long time ago. I can’t think how we even got on to this.”

“She was your mother, my grandmother. Why wouldn’t we talk about her?”

Instead of answering, Camilla got unsteadily to her feet. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go and lie down for a while,” she said. With a fleeting smile she added, “Please make sure I don’t drink any alcohol today. I still haven’t recovered from yesterday.”

As Justine watched her go to the door she wanted to say,
Why do you always walk away? What are you hiding?
but before she could speak Camilla turned round.

“Bill has left me,” she said, referring to her fourth husband. “He’s found someone younger.”

“Oh Mum, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. If he hadn’t gone I probably wouldn’t have come here this Christmas, and I’m glad I did. You have a lovely family, Justine, and I’m happy to say that Rob does too.”

Unsure whether her mother was surprised by that or in some way envious, Justine said, “You know you’re always welcome.”

“Thank you.” And with a sad sort of smile Camilla left the room.

She’d already left for London by the time Matt went downstairs the following morning to make tea. He found a note in the kitchen thanking them for a wonderful time and saying she’d be in touch soon.

—

Three days later they were skiing in Meribel, whooshing down the snowy slopes by day like the true non-professionals they were, and living it up with too much food and wine in their chalet at night. Matt and Justine rented the place every year, and since it slept eighteen there was never any problem fitting everyone in. Even Maddy and her family had come this time, along with all the usual suspects: Simon, Gina, Cheryl, Brad, Rob, Maggie, and of course the kids. Abby had managed to pack her guitar and keyboard into the car, so she was providing the live entertainment most evenings, while everyone but Cheryl and Justine cooked.

It was around ten at night on New Year’s Eve, while Justine and Matt were in their room getting ready to celebrate the change of year, that he pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply.

“So what was that for?” she teased, straightening his bow tie.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, “but before I make a decision I need to run it past you first, because it’ll affect you too.”

“Go on?” she prompted, amused and intrigued.

He took a breath. “I reckon I should get a vasectomy. No, hear me out,” he interrupted as she gasped. “I know we’d both love another baby, but I don’t want you to go through another miscarriage. We already have two fabulously healthy kids, and, if you think about it, maybe we’re being selfish putting our needs before theirs. The age gap between them and a new brother or sister is going to be ten years or more—”

“Matt, no, I can’t let you do it,” she cut in gently. “I hear what you’re saying, but if something were to happen to me, or to the kids…”

“It’s not going to.”

“You don’t know that for certain. There might come a time when you’ll want to start a family with somebody else…”

“Don’t talk that way.”

“I don’t want to think it either, but we have to be realistic. We’ve got no idea what the future might hold and you’re still young, Matt. A lot of men your age are only just getting started on having families.”

“This is the only family I want.”

“I know that, and hopefully it’s the only one you’ll have, but if you—” She broke off as his mobile started to ring. “I’m going to guess Abby,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Taking out his phone, he checked the ID. “Hayley,” he told her.

Frowning, Justine said, “Again? This has to be the fourth time she’s rung since we’ve been here. Doesn’t she know we’re on holiday?”

“Of course she does. I guess she just wants to say happy new year.”

Not liking that too much, Justine watched him look down at the phone as the call went through to voicemail.

“Should I be worried about this?” she demanded.

“About what?”

“The frequency of her calls. The fact you apparently don’t want to speak to her in front of me.”

Matt laughed incredulously. “Where the heck is this coming from?” he cried. “Have I ever given you cause to doubt me?”

He hadn’t, but she wouldn’t be the first trusting wife to miss what was staring her in the face.

Was it?

Surely to God not.