Tangled Lives (13 page)

‘It’s just a room. We’re out during the day,’ Lucy went on, clearly warming to her theme. ‘You’d have the place to yourself. We’d hardly notice you were there … would we, Mum? Dad?’

‘Will you at least consider it?’ Annie asked, raising her eyebrows at her husband, who still said nothing.

But Daniel shook his head firmly. ‘I can’t.’

‘Tell you what …’ This from Marsha. ‘Why don’t you give it a go, and if it doesn’t work, you can move out again and kip on your friend’s sofa.’

Lucy nodded. ‘What’s to lose?’

‘Richard?’ Annie waited.

Her husband nodded slowly. ‘It’s up to you,’ he said, not looking at her.

‘Well …’ Daniel still hesitated. ‘It seems such an imposition, considering you hardly know me. But obviously it would be a great solution from my point of view.’

‘Brilliant!’ Lucy said. ‘It’s a deal. You can go in Eddie’s room.’ Annie saw her glance at her brother, who gave an imperceptible shake of his head. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ Lucy went on. ‘You hardly ever come home.’

‘It’s fine,’ Ed mumbled.

Annie searched Daniel’s face. Was he comfortable with this? Wasn’t Lucy railroading him a bit?

‘Please … if anyone has any objection to my coming here, you’d say, wouldn’t you?’ Daniel begged.

Marsha smiled. ‘Hmm, not necessarily, Daniel. Us Delanceys aren’t exactly renowned for telling it how it is.
We can be polite to the point of ridiculousness. Like Mum not mentioning you for thirty-five years.’

Daniel looked awkward, clearly not knowing what to say.

‘That wasn’t to do with politeness, Marsha. And it’s not very polite of you to suggest we might be lying about wanting Daniel here,’ Annie pointed out, giving her daughter a questioning stare.

‘I didn’t mean that, Mum,’ Marsha said quickly. ‘I’m sure you’re very welcome here, Daniel. But generally … I just thought I’d mention it, if you’re about to spend time with the family.’

Daniel seemed to have recovered his composure. ‘My own family’s never been that hot about airing stuff either. And whatever the intention, it doesn’t make things easy.’

‘Probably a generation thing,’ Ed put in. ‘The parents come from the stiff-upper-lip school of emotions: never tell anyone anything even remotely personal if you can get away with it. Whereas us lot spill every bit of dirty linen we can dig up, preferably on TV, preferably in front of millions.’

While they all laughed, Richard could be heard to mutter: ‘Nothing so great about that, is there? All that eternal sobbing. Haven’t you noticed? Every film you see today, the slightest thing sets ’em off. Can’t even say hi without the entire cast – including grown men – tearing up.’

‘Men should be able to cry,’ Marsha retorted.

‘Cry for a good reason, of course,’ Richard agreed. ‘But
crying because they think that’s acting? Doesn’t do it for me.’

‘Ah, Dad,’ Lucy leaned over and put her arm affectionately round her father’s shoulders. ‘It’s stiff upper lip for you then. Don’t let the bastards see the whites of your eyes.’

As Daniel was leaving, Annie drew him aside. She wanted a private moment with him, out of the glare of the rest of the family.

‘Don’t feel pushed into anything,’ she said. ‘I’d love you to come, but if you’re not comfortable with it …’

Daniel shrugged. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this? Shouldn’t you think it over? I mean, I love it that you and I have had the chance to bond a bit, but your family don’t know me from Adam. Perhaps Lucy’s being too kind.’

She smiled. ‘She is kind, but we do want you to come. Please …’

He hesitated, perhaps making some calculations in his head.

‘Well … if you’re sure. Please feel free to change your mind at any time though, Annie.’ He seemed relieved, but there was also a note of uncertainty in his voice.

‘Thank you, but I’m sure we won’t.’

‘And thanks for an amazing lunch. I think your family is wonderful.’

She looked up at him. ‘Your family too, now.’

*

When they’d all gone, Annie went outside and sat for a moment on the deck, enjoying a heavenly sense of relief. It was only now, when the shadow of her long-held secret had begun to fade in Daniel’s presence, that she felt she could properly let go. No longer, when she thought of her baby, would she have to imagine him adrift out there in the world, not knowing how he was growing up, or with whom. It felt good.

‘You must be pleased.’ Richard interrupted her reverie.

She stretched luxuriously, looking up at him with a smile. ‘Wasn’t it brilliant! Daniel fitted in so well, as if he really belonged. Maybe blood is thicker than water after all.’

Richard, now in his corduroy slippers, slopped across the deck and began pulling at a stray tendril of potato jasmine on the far wall.

She waited for him to comment on Daniel, but he said nothing. ‘You liked him, didn’t you?’

Her husband turned to face her, a handful of slim branches in his hand. ‘I thought he was very charming,’ he replied.

She waited. She knew him so well. Never a gusher, Richard had his own quiet way of expressing enthusiasm, and he wasn’t doing that now.

‘It’s just … well, I think you made a big mistake in allowing our kind-hearted daughter’s offer to go so far.’ He turned away, dumping the plant clippings on the ground.

‘You think it’s too soon?’

Richard gave a sigh and turned back to face her. ‘Annie, we hardly know the man! It’s like going to Kentish Town and stopping the first person you see and inviting him home to stay for six weeks.’

Annie felt her pleasure at the lunch melt away. She had the same fears as her husband, but she wasn’t sure why.

‘You could have said at the time that you thought it wasn’t such a great idea – before the decision was made.’

He stared at her, his eyebrows raised. ‘Could I?’

‘Of course you could. Anyway, what have you got against him coming? I understand it’s sudden, I felt that myself. But I
do
know him, Richard. I’ve met up with him – as you’d be the first to complain about – quite a lot recently, and I hardly need references. He’s my son.’

‘It would still have been better if you’d asked for time to think about it.’

‘Maybe, but I didn’t. And nor did you.’

He wasn’t listening. ‘I don’t blame Lucy. She’s bent on saving the world. And we’ve said it before, her bleeding heart will always get her into trouble. But you shouldn’t have gone along with it so easily.’

Pompous idiot, she thought. ‘You make her sound like Care in the Community.’

‘It’s just … well, once he’s here, supposing he gets settled and wants to stay?’

Annie knew this was just Richard inventing excuses for
the position he was taking. The truth is, she thought sadly, he doesn’t really want anything to do with Daniel.

‘He’s got a play on in Edinburgh, remember? It’s hardly likely he’d forgo that rare privilege just to hang out with us.’

After a solid silence, broken only by the click of the kettle reaching the boil back in the kitchen, she added, ‘We have everything in life, Richard. We have a huge, half-empty house, we have money, we have a close family. Can’t we be generous for once, and ask someone in need to share all that?’

Richard harrumphed. ‘Now you’re making
him
sound like Care in the Community.’

Annie couldn’t help smiling at that, and Richard finally saw the funny side and smiled too.

‘I just think you’re taking things a bit too fast, that’s all.’

‘I agree.’

‘OK. Well, let’s try and make the best of it then, shall we?’

‘I hope having Daniel here is better than just making the best of it.’ She firmly resisted his doom scenario.

‘Well, I hope so too.’

9

Ed was wandering round the supermarket the following morning. He liked shopping, found the mundane predictability soothing. Emma had said she’d meet him there – she’d had to drop in on her mum for an hour – but he started pottering along the aisles without her, picking up stuff she’d probably put back when she turned up. She favoured loads of vegetables – mostly green – fruit, and nasty things like wholewheat spaghetti and muesli bars. Whereas he, despite his mother’s similar fixation on healthy food while he was growing up, went for stuff like a good honest pie – steak and kidney, mince, or even fish, he wasn’t fussy – tinned beans, cereals with heaps of sugar. It was a running gag between him and Emms, but they usually came to some reasonable compromise.

As he pushed the trolley, his mind went back, not for the first time, to yesterday’s lunch with Daniel. He’d surprised himself with his outburst about making furniture. True, he’d often fantasised about a quiet life in the
country, doing practical work such as making tables and cabinets outside a picturesque cottage with a river and a dog, but he’d only said it to say
something
. Daniel would keep on about his writing, and he didn’t want to appear like some deadbeat. But saying it out loud had sparked an old thought. He decided he’d investigate carpentry lessons, despite the dismissive response he’d got from his father when he’d mentioned it in the past. He didn’t need his approval now – he could afford to pay for the lessons himself.

He caught sight of his girlfriend walking past the end of the aisle and called out to her. ‘How did it go?’ He kissed her lingeringly on the lips in greeting, aware that most of the other guys in the supermarket would be dying of jealousy.

Emma shook her head. ‘Oh, you know … the usual bollocks. I’m not sure she’s taking her meds.’

Ed laughed. Emma’s mother was not on medication as far as either of them knew, but Emma always joked she should be.

‘That bad?’

‘Not really, I suppose. I’m just always waiting for her to kick off. It’s not very restful.’

‘Mothers seem to make it their business not to be restful these days,’ Ed muttered.

She linked arms with him as he pushed the trolley. ‘Come on, babe. Annie’s a walk in the park compared to mine. You’re not still sore about the lunch, are you?’

‘It’s OK for you to be so laid back about Daniel. It’s
not
your
saintly half-brother risen from the dead to take up residence in your old bedroom.’

‘But he was great. You can’t honestly say you didn’t like him? I saw you laughing at some of his stories, and he was nothing but charming to you, despite your snippiness. Imagine what he
could
have been like.’

Ed paused before answering. ‘It’s not to do with liking him or not liking him. Sure, he was charming, in a smug sort of way. And don’t think I didn’t see the way you were hanging on his every word. Flirting with him …’

Emma pulled her arm away from his. ‘For heaven’s sake, Eddie, what’s your problem? It’s fucking boring, this. You getting off on how much you hate him all the time. I’m not going to apologise for being nice to him.’

‘Emms …’ He reached out to her, but she moved away.

‘No. I don’t want to hear another word on the subject. Daniel’s no threat to you, and the sooner you realise it the better. You should count yourself lucky you’ve got such an amazing family.’ She stalked off down the aisle, flashing a flirtatious smile at a guy getting a tub of ice cream out of the freezer cabinet. She just can’t help herself, he thought.

‘Emma, where are you going?’ he called after her, clocking the smug grin from the man at the freezer.

‘To get salad,’ she shouted over her shoulder.

He followed her sheepishly with the trolley. He knew he was being a pain in the bum, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Emma didn’t get it. She didn’t know what
it was like to feel you’d let your parents down, then be faced with the replacement perfect son. OK, her family was a train wreck, but her parents weren’t to be respected, they didn’t set standards to live up to. His did.

‘You did book, didn’t you?’ Annie cast a nervous glance at her husband as he manoeuvred the car into a tight space – the only one they could find on a Sunday – at the opposite end of Cadogan Place from the restaurant.

‘Bit late if I haven’t,’ Richard teased her. ‘But do I look like a man brave enough to tell Eleanor Westbury her favourite restaurant’s full?’

‘Nobody would be that brave. But then she thinks you’re so bloody marvellous you could probably stab her and still be awarded the Dear Richard medal.’

Her husband put on a theatrical smirk as he turned the engine off.

‘So what’s Eleanor’s position on Daniel?’ Richard asked, as they walked along beside the fenced gardens.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, is he a contentious issue? Can we talk about him?’ He glanced at her. ‘Only asking. You know how tricky she can be.’

Annie felt a frisson of anxiety. ‘I don’t know. I don’t see why we shouldn’t be able to talk about him, but as you say …’ She could imagine the tight expression of disapproval on her mother’s face. Lunch would be a nightmare if her mother chose to start on about Daniel being
‘feckless’, or after Annie’s money. Especially as Ed was coming.

‘Best to leave it this time, perhaps?’ Richard suggested. ‘Until she’s met him and things have … settled?’

Did she sense Richard was relieved? Or was she being oversensitive? They had barely talked about Daniel’s impending arrival since the decision was made the week before. Richard had made her so conscious of bringing him up in conversation all the time, that now she hardly dared mention his name.

‘I suppose. I still haven’t told her that Charles is Daniel’s father.’

The Rib Room at the Carlton Tower was comfortingly familiar to Annie. Like Fortnum’s, her mother had been bringing her here since she was young. It had first opened in the early sixties, and the unchanging decor – luxurious but understated – the low lighting, the warmth, the thick white tablecloths and immaculate tableware, the all-encompassing fragrance of roast meat, gave her a curious sense of safety. Even her mother seemed to annoy her less at the Rib Room.

Ed, Marsha and Lucy were already seated. Her mother was precisely fifteen minutes late. This was part of the carefully choreographed birthday drama – Eleanor was only ever selectively late. Annie hoped she could make the day perfect for her exacting parent.