The Secrets Between Us (16 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

EVERYTHING WAS MORE
or less all right, we were managing, and then Claudia and Bill invited Alexander and me up to the Barn for dinner.

‘Friday …’ I said, when Alexander told me. It was impossible to keep the disappointment from my voice.

Alexander was hunched down in front of the Rayburn, which had gone out. He reached up to me and put his hand on my thigh. I slid into the warmth of his fingers.

‘Claudia thinks she’s doing us a favour because we won’t need to arrange a babysitter,’ he said cheerfully.

‘Oh.’

‘Pass me the wick, would you? That white thing there, on the table. And don’t look so worried.’

‘Why would they invite you and me? Do you think Virginia has put them up to it?’

‘You’re more paranoid than I am. No, it’s nothing like that. Claudia likes you, you know she does. She just wants to give you a nice evening to say thanks for everything you’re doing to help the family.’

‘Alex …’

‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong. If Gen was here … I mean, if she knew about you and me she’d be pleased. She’d be glad I was moving on.’

‘But Claudia doesn’t know that and …’

‘Claudia knows you’re doing a brilliant job with her nephew. That’s what she cares about. And how can we refuse to go? How can we turn down such a generous invitation? Think how that would make Claudia feel.’

I nodded, but I felt miserable. When I was alone with Claudia, I could be myself because our relationship was genuine. But to be with her and Alexander and to have to disguise everything I felt for him would be a travesty of our friendship. She trusted me and I would be lying to her at a time when she was being more kind to me that she ever needed to be.

‘You’ll like Bill,’ Alexander said. ‘And he’ll like you. He likes everything Claudia likes.’

‘She doesn’t know me very well, does she?’ I said.

Alexander looked up at me and smiled.

‘Claudia’s a very good judge of character,’ he said. ‘Remember that.’

I returned his smile, but it didn’t make me feel any better about myself or the situation.

‘And there’s another couple going too,’ Alexander said. ‘Somebody who wants you to do some work for them or something.’

‘Oh lord, not Phoebe? Alex, she called here wanting to speak to you about me helping out with her kids but I forgot all about it, I …’

‘All right, all right, don’t get stressed!’ Alexander said, standing to take me by the shoulders, and squeezing with his big strong hands. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll tell them it was me who forgot to call them back.’

Still, I dreaded the evening.

When it came, we drove again up the steep, winding lane, past the chained gates to the old quarry, up to the converted barn. The lane was very dark. All we could see was what was
illuminated by the Land Rover’s headlights. When we arrived at the Barn, the fancy wrought-iron gates to its drive were closed.

‘That’s unusual,’ Alexander said. He wound down his window and pressed a button on the intercom which was housed on a wooded post at the side of the drive.

‘It’s me,’ he said, and I heard the crackle of a man’s voice coming through the speaker and the sound of the dogs barking furiously in the background. The big gates swung slowly open.

Alexander parked the Land Rover, which looked embarrassingly scruffy on the neat drive paved with pinky-coloured blocks in a fishbone pattern and lined with containers of plants, all beautifully maintained. As we stepped out of the car, the gates closed behind us. We heard the click as the lock slotted into place. Three other cars – Claudia’s Volvo, a big, glossy four-wheel drive and a slinky BMW – were already parked on the drive.

‘No escape now,’ Alexander said. He reached over and took my hand and then dropped it as we approached the porch. My teeth were chattering.

One of the girls, Petra, opened the door to us and was almost immediately bowled over by Blue, who charged past her and leapt at my chest, planting his two huge paws painfully on my breasts and reaching up to lick my face. He would have knocked me over if Alexander hadn’t been there to catch me.

‘Down!’ Alexander said in the voice he sometimes used to reprimand Jamie, and Blue dropped at his feet and gazed up at him, grinning and thumping his tail on the ground.

‘You stupid dog,’ said Alexander fondly.

Bonnie waddled around Petra and leaned against me, wagging her tail. I fondled her ears, and said hello to the little girl. She looked like Alice in Wonderland, in a blue nightie and white socks. Her straight hair was held back by a band.

‘Sorry about Blue,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t know how to control his emotions.’

‘It’s OK,’ said Alexander. ‘That’s a good fault in a dog.’

‘Please come in,’ said Petra.

‘I wish some of your beautiful manners would rub off on Jamie,’ Alexander said, and Petra smiled and slipped away to find her twin. I followed behind Alexander.

I couldn’t see anyone else inside, and my spirits lifted for a moment: maybe Phoebe and Ted had cancelled.

The Barn was huge, not quite open-plan, modern in design and beautifully furnished. It was the antithesis of Avalon. Everything was new. A set of floor-to-ceiling picture windows looked out over the fields that sloped down the hill, their perimeter lined with tall trees and hedges that hid the view of the new quarry way down below. It was cosy and homely and reminded me of a nest – an expensive, tasteful, luxurious nest. The walls were covered with family photographs, mostly pictures of the twins; snapshots that had been blown up to fit their frames were interspersed with professional portraits. There were also pictures of Genevieve. Mostly they were of Genevieve riding, either going over jumps or standing beside one of her horses, holding the reins, a red rosette fastened to the animal’s cheek strap. She looked breathtakingly elegant and athletic in her competition riding clothes. When she was jumping, leaning forwards over the horse’s neck, going over impossibly high jumps, it was obvious she was enjoying herself, and she looked so graceful, so exactly right in space and time.

The photographs irritated me, and I knew what I was feeling was jealousy. Genevieve was so perfect in every way. No wonder everyone loved her; no wonder her leaving had left such a big, boring, empty space in everyone’s lives. People never would stop talking about her and missing her and speculating about where she was and when she would come back, until she did. I could never be like that. I wasn’t that
kind of person. I was the sort of person people tended to forget.

I realized that when Genevieve came back to Burrington Stoke – if she came back – and I had to leave, there would be no pictures of me, no anecdotes, no anything to remind them that I’d ever existed.

‘Do you ride?’

I turned to see a tall man with a pleasant smile on his face and a champagne flute in each hand.

‘Bicycles,’ I said.

‘Me too. Never saw the attraction of horses myself. Flighty animals with big feet and no brakes. I’m Bill.’

‘Sarah.’

‘I’m very pleased to meet you at last.’

Bill took my coat and put a drink into my hand in return.

‘And this is our good friend Ted,’ he said, introducing a portly, youngish man with bad teeth and sweat blooms beneath the underarms of his shirt.

Ted nodded at me, but did not hold out his hand.

‘Claudia won’t be a moment,’ said Bill. ‘Take a pew.’

I sat down on the edge of a big, squashy chair and clutched my glass. I could hear the sound of chattering beyond and recognized Phoebe’s low-slung voice.

‘What’s with the gates, Bill?’ Alexander asked.

Bill glanced round quickly to make sure his daughters weren’t in earshot.

‘Someone’s been hanging around,’ he said quietly.

‘Do you know who it is?’

Bill shook his head.

‘A few things have gone missing. And the dogs keep barking in the night.’

‘Foxes maybe?’ said Alexander.

‘Travellers,’ said Ted. ‘It’s always travellers. Or teenagers from Wells.’

‘Yep, it’s a rough old place, Wells,’ Alexander said, with a wink to me. I smiled.

Bill shook his head again.

‘I don’t think it’s either. Whoever it is sneaking around seems to be deliberately trying to put the wind up us. Poor old Claude’s beside herself with worry. We’re thinking about getting CCTV installed.’

‘Shit,’ said Alexander.

‘Are you all right, Sarah?’ Bill asked. I felt very hot but suspected that, for once, I had gone pale.

It was Damian. It had to be Damian who was hanging around the house. I should have told Claudia he’d been in the village. I tried to find a way to bring this possibility into the conversation, but Allegra materialized at my shoulder offering me a bowl of pistachio nuts and then Phoebe came into the room, all lipstick and elbows, and monopolized the conversation. I thought I must mention my concern to Alexander as soon as we were alone together. He could then perhaps have a quiet word with Bill.

Bill wasn’t what I’d expected. I’d pictured Claudia married to someone shaggier. I knew Bill taught at the university so I’d had a rather unkempt professorial type in mind – a beard, glasses held together with Sellotape, missing buttons on his shirt and a pot belly.

In real life, Bill was taller even than Alexander, with the ranginess of his daughters. He spoke with a pleasant American accent. His hair was closely cropped to disguise the fact that it was receding, and he was attractive, but in a subtle way. I thought at first that he was considerably younger than Claudia, but later concluded that, while she looked older than her age, he did not.

Bill was funny and self-effacing, one of those people whose intense intelligence shines through without their ever showing off. Best of all, he was kind. He did everything he could to put me at my ease, especially when it became clear
that Phoebe and Ted did not know how to talk to me. He sat opposite me balancing his bony wrists on his knees, and the twins sat at his feet doing a jigsaw puzzle and we talked about the countryside and how, in Bill’s eyes at least, once you became part of it, it was impossible to go back to the city.

Bill was originally from Boston and more lately from London. He said he did not miss it. He had been a university professor, an expert in medieval French literature, and after he’d married Claudia he’d taught at various universities for some years. Now he devoted himself to his writing. He had travelled extensively, researching and publishing a number of books, one of which had been hugely successful and used as the basis for a popular television series. He claimed this was just a fluke.

‘It paid for the swimming pool, though, didn’t it, Daddy?’ said Allegra, and we all smiled.

The old dog, Bonnie, came and leaned up against my legs and I petted her. I felt safe amongst these kind people in their lovely home. I didn’t like the thought of Damian creeping round outside, peeping through the windows, disturbing the dogs and stealing things.

I tried not to look at the pictures on the walls but my eyes were drawn to them. Genevieve was so vital, so
alive
. My eyes lingered on a picture of Genevieve and Claudia, standing with their arms around each other. Genevieve was resting her head on Claudia’s shoulder and Claudia was laughing unselfconsciously. The half-sisters were like chalk and cheese, Genevieve so petite and neat, Claudia huge and scruffy. Only their smiles were similar.

‘She’s a cracker, isn’t she?’ Ted asked, following my eyes. He wasn’t talking about Claudia.

I smiled and nodded.

Ted cleared his throat.

‘Is there any news?’ he asked Alexander.

‘No.’

‘The police came to talk to Phoebe, you know.’

‘No, I didn’t know.’

‘They asked me all kinds of questions,’ Phoebe said, pursing her lips. ‘It was very upsetting.’

I felt Alexander tense with irritation.

‘I guess they’re only doing their job,’ said Bill.

‘They haven’t come up with anything yet then?’

Alexander shook his head. Ted sighed.

‘Bad business,’ he said. ‘They were asking Phoebe about Gen’s – er – social life. Did it ever cross your mind that she might have been—’

‘Ted!’ Phoebe said. ‘For goodness’ sake. Now is not the time or place.’ She glanced meaningfully at me.

Ted held up a hand in apology.

‘Oh, don’t mind Sarah,’ said Alexander. ‘She’s very discreet.’ Gently he touched the back of my hand with the back of his, in the gap between our two chairs, and I relaxed.

Claudia came into the room during this last exchange and my heart ached for her. She was such a good person. Her whole life had been devastated by the actions of Genevieve and her mother and still Claudia bore no grudge, not an ounce of resentment. The pictures on the walls were like a shrine to celebrate Claudia’s enduring love for her half-sister. I looked up and caught her eye. We smiled at one another and I didn’t look at the wall again.

After a while, the cooking smells coming from the kitchen became irresistible. Bill took the girls upstairs to bed and then we ate our meal around a beautiful, round wooden table in the dining area. The table was polished to a gleam that reflected the candlelight and was laid with silver cutlery and fine bone-china crockery.

Claudia looked noble. Her hair had been put up so that wisps of grey-brown fell down around her face, and she wore a long dress that was Grecian in influence. It didn’t make her look any more slender, but it suited her
shape entirely. Diamonds sparkled at her earlobes and her throat. I never normally thought of Claudia as being rich – she was just big, posh, kind Claudia – but that night her class and her wealth and her breeding were apparent. She was a wonderful hostess. We ate hot wild-mushroom salad for a starter, followed by the most delicate white sea bass in a lobster and saffron sauce with baby potatoes, asparagus and tiny carrots. The wine was amazing, far stronger than I was used to, and we drank a good deal of it. At least I did. As the evening wore on I stopped feeling so shy and began to join in the conversation, even though Phoebe made it clear that she didn’t find this entirely appropriate.