Authors: Isabelle Grey
Patrick shook his head, mystified where this was leading.
âBecause her married lover was never going to see her over a weekend. The tosser!' added the boy. âEight years he told her he was going to leave his wife and kids. And she believed him. Until he dumped her.'
âWhen was that?'
âI was about fifteen. She got ill. Lost weight, cried all the time. I was terrified she had cancer and was going to die, so she told me. It's the only time she's ever talked about it.'
Patrick nodded. âDid you meet the guy?'
âI'm not sure. Once, I think. Butâ' Rob sighed. âI love Mum,' he said, âbut it can be pretty heavy, being all she's got.'
âI know exactly what that's like,' said Patrick, grimacing.
Silence fell between them. Patrick looked at Rob, seeing the vulnerable teenager visible beneath the surface of the young man he was becoming.
Patrick took a deep breath. âI had a son.'
Rob looked at him with mild curiosity. âReally? So where's he now? With his mum?'
âHe died. When he was eighteen months old. An accident for which I was responsible.'
âWow. Sorry. That must've been tough.'
âYes. It was.'
Patrick glanced at Rob and saw only sympathy in his eyes. There seemed to be no reason to say more, not at this moment, but he felt lighter than he had in years.
âSo what was it you wanted to ask me?'
Rob bit at his lower lip before replying. âD'you reckon Mum settled for second-best with that tosser because of me? To have more time for me? So I wouldn't have to deal with a string of boyfriends?'
Patrick looked into his earnest face. He thought of a childhood spent negotiating silence, living someone else's lie. âNo,' he told him decisively. âIf she was that broken up about the affair ending, then I reckon she was with him because she really wanted to be. She maybe just thought you were too young to understand.'
Rob nodded, his whole body appearing to relax.
âDo I let on you've told me?' asked Patrick. âOr is it a secret?'
âNah!' Rob shook his head. âMum'll kill me, but I don't care. I mean, what's the big deal?'
Patrick laughed with relief. âRidiculous how easy it is to believe that the world will end, just by saying something.'
When Vicki came downstairs five minutes later she found them arguing amicably over the best way to chop an onion. They turned to her, their easy grins automatically including her in their intimacy. She peered over their shoulders at the ingredients for a pasta sauce laid out on the chopping board, then slipped out of the back door, returning a moment later with sprigs of rosemary and thyme. She stripped the leaves from the soft stalks ready to add to the pan, but was prevented by Patrick covering her hand with his.
âWait,' he counselled her. âAll in good time.'
âOkay.' She smiled and kissed him lightly. âSmells delicious.'
In October, Leonie came to London to spend a long weekend with Stella. On the Saturday, as planned, they drove to Brighton for a day out. They found a space in an underground car park and walked down to the promenade. Stella insisted on buying them ices from a van, a chocolate Flake stuck into each sculpted wave of sugary cream, and they leant against the railings, looking across at the pier. The clear autumn weather had brought others like them to stroll on the beach, and there was a pleasant sense of companionship about the scene.
âNo regrets?' asked Stella.
âAbout going back to France? None at all.'
âAnd the rest?'
âNo. I decided just to remember the good times, forget the bad stuff. A selective memory has its benefits.'
âYou're more forgiving than I am.'
âI forgave myself. That's what matters.'
âSure.'
âCouldn't have done it without you.' Leonie put her arm through Stella's and hugged her closer.
âIf only goodness really were a match for damage. If we could just kiss it all better,' Stella observed.
âYou'd be out of a job.'
Stella laughed. âTrue. You certainly tried, anyway. Gave it your best shot.'
âI did, didn't I?'
âNo shame in that.'
âNo.' Smiling, Leonie looked out to sea where the sun made the waves sparkle above the cold depths.
This book owes much to Elizabeth Buchan for her encouragement, generosity and all-round wonderfulness. For their time, insight and expertise, I also wish to thank Claire Baker, Tina Burchill, Lisa Cohen, N.J. Cooper, Dr Peter Dean, Alan Dunnett, Maggie Hilton, Bernard Lever, Jackie Malton, Sarah Medford, Angela Neustatter, Laline Paull and Caroline Willbourne; and, not least, my editor Jane Wood and agent Sheila Crowley.
DON'T MISS THE NEW NOVEL BY ISABELLE GREY
AVAILABLE FROM MAY 2013
Recently divorced, Tessa Parker runs a successful B&B in a seaside town. During a surprise visit from Australia, a long-lost aunt lets slip a family secret that unsettles her fragile world.
In shock, and feeling betrayed by her whole family, Tessa confides in her ex-husband just as he reveals he has a new woman in his life.
Struck unexpectedly by jealousy; balancing her own turmoil against the demands of parenting, Tessa tries to trace her birth father, with devastating results. Yet she fails to see how this is a crucial moment in her children's lives. If she gets things wrong, the consequences could be fatal.
Available from:
www.quercusbooks.co.uk