The Way We Were (14 page)

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Authors: Marcia Willett

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BOOK: The Way We Were
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‘I shall,' says Julia, intervening at last. ‘Tiggy's part of our family now. One more baby won't make any difference to my mob.'

Angela's disbelieving, patronizing little smile is insufferable. ‘When's Pete back?' she asks.

‘Soon,' says Julia, after a moment. A couple of weeks.'

Angela makes big eyes at her. ‘What fun,' she says suggestively, knowingly. ‘I can't wait to see him.'

‘You might have to,' answers Julia. ‘We're going upcountry for his leave.'

‘I expect I shall see him around. You'll have to come to dinner when you get back.' She glances at her watch. ‘I must go and fetch Cat from playschool.'

Julia goes out with her; when she returns the girls stare at each other in silence.

‘What
is
it about her?' asks Tiggy at last. ‘I have this longing to be really rude to her. And all this hinting about Pete. Why do you let her get away with it?'

Julia shakes her head. ‘It's like being with someone who plays by completely different rules from yours. You think you know the moves of the game but you can't be certain, and you hesitate and wait and meanwhile she gets right in there and hits below the belt.'

‘But why?' demands Tiggy. ‘I mean, why don't you just respond in kind? Be rude. Throw her out.'

‘Because I'm afraid of her,' says Julia.

CHAPTER SEVEN

2004

‘Val's in a bate,' Liv said, sitting on the sofa, legs curled under her, clasping a mug of coffee. She pushed a scarlet cushion behind her back. ‘It's getting to be a permanent state so Chris is on a bit of a short fuse.'

Caroline sat down at the opposite end and looked around Liv's small living space. The sofa, at the opposite end from the kitchen, was built in beneath the huge window so that you could sit sideways and look across Port Isaac bay. At one end of the sofa, the portable television lived on a small trolley, which Liv wheeled out when she wanted to watch; at the other, the gate-leg table stood against the wall. One leaf was extended holding a laptop, several books and a jar of wild flowers. The atmosphere was one of comfortable, busy warmth, the bright spots of colour – a rack of splashily hand-painted plates, a framed photograph of sunflowers, the blue-glazed jar on the table – picked out by the sunlight that shone in through the kitchen window, which faced into the courtyard.

Sipping her coffee, Caroline watched Liv with affection. How did she manage it; to sit so light to things? To remain unaffected by bad atmosphere and people's moods? Her own non-confrontational character made it difficult for her to remain indifferent to unpleasantness.

‘It must be worse for you with Chris and Val being married,' she said, ‘than, say, being in an office. More personal. Doesn't it get you down?'

‘Sometimes. Quite often, actually. It could be so much fun but just lately she's making it a real drag. The problem is that she needs for us to see how hard it is for her. If we jolly her along she thinks it's because we can't
feel her pain
,' Liv accentuated the words, made a dramatic face, ‘and then she gets stroppy.'

Caroline chuckled. ‘Sounds a bit wearing.'

‘Oh, it is. Chris and I take turns for time off. He goes and stares at the sea while he drags on a ciggie, and I chat with Myra and Debs. That pisses her off too. It's odd, isn't it? You don't know anyone properly until you see them under stress. I think it's been a bit of an epiphany for Chris.'

‘Seriously? That could be a bit worrying, couldn't it?'

Liv shrugged. ‘It could but it's a bit late in the day for her to start throwing hissy fits. They're committed financially to making Penharrow work and that means all of us doing our bit. The trouble is that our Val is a bit of a control freak. Well, we all knew that but we didn't realize how much of one she is until now. Never mind all that. How are you? You look great.'

‘I feel great. All the morning sickness bit is over and I feel really well. I'm loving it, actually. And it's great to have Zack home.'

Caroline paused, drank some more coffee and wondered how to phrase her anxiety about Zack. From the first meeting with Liv she'd felt she'd made a friend; she was so direct and easy. Gradually she'd become Caroline's confidante.

‘But… ?' Liv was saying now, watching her quizzically. ‘Why do I think there's a “but” coming next?'

‘Probably because there is. Zack's having a bit of a downer. Not much of one but he's a bit low and I think it's to do with the baby.'

‘I thought that might happen,' said Liv, resigned but unfazed – as if it were perfectly reasonable – and Caroline felt an instant lightening of heart. ‘It's always been the same. Whenever he's facing something new he loses confidence, wonders if he'll be able to cope. He told me once that it's because he's afraid that there might be some negative gene he's inherited that will suddenly manifest itself. It's crazy, really; after all, that could be the same for any of us, couldn't it? But that's Zack for you. He's probably panicking about what sort of father he'll be. He's got nothing to go on, has he? He doesn't know what kind of fist Tiggy and Tom would have made of being parents.'

‘It's odd the way he talks about Tom and Tiggy' Caroline said. ‘As if they were friends or something. Did Tiggy want him to be called Zack?'

‘Family myth has it that Tiggy was quite sure she was going to have a daughter and that she'd decided to call her Claerwen, Clare for short. I think it means “clear white”, or something like that. It was her grandmother's name and Tiggy loved her grandmother. They were very close; the only family Tiggy had, apparently. Anyway, as you know, she had a little boy instead but she didn't live long enough to give him a name, poor Tiggy. Mum decided to call him after Dad's grandfather. It has a Celtic flavour and goes well with Bodrugan.'

‘They're all unusual names, aren't they? Tiggy, Claerwen and Zack.'

‘Tiggy was just a nickname for Tegan, which means “beautiful”. Celtic too, probably.' Liv stood her mug on the floor. ‘I'm sorry Zack's a bit low. He gets over it but it's part of the package, I'm afraid.'

‘I just wonder sometimes if he's a bit daunted by the prospect and wishes we hadn't done it,' explained Caroline anxiously. ‘I'm so happy about the baby and I want him to feel the same.'

‘He's thrilled about it,' said Liv firmly. ‘But there's bound to be the odd wobble, isn't there? I expect you have the odd moment of blind panic. It's pretty awe-inspiring, isn't it? A brand-new person to be responsible for; pretty scary.'

Caroline nodded. ‘Well, sometimes,' she admitted. ‘I don't let Zack see when I have those moments. It seems a bit mean to let him see me panicking when he has to go away so much.'

‘Oh, I think you should share it,' Liv said at once. ‘Much better for both of you than being brave and suffering in silence. It'll make him feel better about his own fears. Then you can take it in turns. Panic by numbers. Oh, here they are.'

Chris and Zack came in together. Caroline saw that Zack was looking relaxed, amused by some remark that Chris had made, and she felt a further lightening of spirits. Liv was right: his moodiness was a perfectly natural reaction. She got up and went over to him and he smiled down at her, putting an arm around her.

‘Hungry?' he asked. ‘What do you and the sprog fancy today? Fried squid? Raw pig's cheek?'

‘Not in Debs' kitchen they don't,' declared Liv. ‘Home-cooking plain and simple is the watchword here. Come on. Let's eat.'

From her window Val watched them leave the annexe and cross the yard to the café; she felt quite stiff with irritation.

‘Can't we manage a bit of lunch for them?' Chris had asked when he'd heard that Caroline and Zack were coming to see Liv. ‘Something simple. I could go over and get some food from the kitchen, if it's easier.'

‘I haven't got the time to sit around having lunch, even if you and Liv have,' she'd snapped. ‘I've got to go to the cash-and-carry, and there's a pile of laundry to wash and iron. I shall grab a sandwich.'

He'd simply looked bleak and turned away. Val had wanted to scream at him. If only he'd recognize how hard it was for her; it wasn't that she wanted to nag all the time but, if she didn't, he seemed to think that it was all so easy. It was only by continually prompting him to action, correcting things he was doing the wrong way, reminding him of things to be organized, that chores got done properly. It was exhausting, making sure that he stayed on top of things, but even then he sometimes simply walked away from it. Like now, for instance.

Val stood at the window, rigid with annoyance, watching Liv and Zack sharing a joke before going into the café. She'd been certain that he'd come back when the others went to have lunch, but not a bit of it.

And what about me? she asked herself silently, angrily. I suppose I just have to sit here on my own.

For a moment, a very brief moment, she imagined herself joining them: laying down the burden of control and strolling into the café, quite casually, saying, ‘I've got a spare half-hour after all so I thought I'd come and have some lunch.'

The promise of such relief, relaxation from her rigid need to control, briefly tempted her. Yet it would give off the wrong signals: Chris and Liv would merely assume that she'd given in, backed down. Val's jaw tightened. Of course, Chris would be relieved. His pleasure at her change of heart would manifest itself in attentive gestures: getting an extra chair, passing her the menu, hovering about asking what she'd like to drink. There would be a secret triumph in having him dance attention: it would soothe that itch of desire to see him under control; publicly putting her first. As for Liv – Val shrugged impatiently. Well, Liv would be as relaxed as always. Part of her, Val's, growing annoyance was due to Liv's imperviousness. She was only just beginning to see how thick-skinned Liv really was; indifferent to sharp remarks, unmoved by disapproval. She'd simply accept Val's presence as a perfectly normal procedure, unaware of any generosity on Val's part. No, there would be no satisfaction to be had there; no sign that Liv was grateful for this reprieve from censure. Caroline and Zack wouldn't care whether she was there or not: they'd come to see Liv, after all. Nevertheless, there would be some pleasure in slewing the centre of attention away from Liv.

Val tried to relax her shoulders; she was getting another headache. She turned away from the window and went to find her painkillers.

Before Zack and Caroline left, when Chris had gone back to the office and Caroline disappeared to the loo, Liv had a few moments alone with her brother.

‘We're going for a walk along the coastal path before we go home,' said Zack. ‘Thanks for lunch. You've done a great job here, Liv. Val seems a bit uptight, I thought. Stressed out. It's going well, isn't it?'

‘It's going great; she's worrying quite unnecessarily, but that's our Val. By the way, have you heard from Andy lately?'

Zack shook his head. ‘You're the one for keeping in touch. Why?'

Liv frowned. ‘He's being evasive. Not answering emails, and when he does it's very brief. To use one of Dad's naval expressions, I think he's “trapping”.'

‘Well, why not? He's not seriously involved with anyone at the moment, is he?'

‘No, but you know Andy. Usually, if there's a new woman in his life he just so wants to tell you how gorgeous and fantastic she is and how he's been selected from a cast of thousands. He likes to talk about the parties and the clubbing and all that. He's being very cagey.'

Zack shook his head; he'd always been slightly shocked by the way Liv and Andy exchanged the details of their private lives. ‘Perhaps he's growing up at last. Just because you're twins doesn't mean he has to tell you everything.'

‘True.' Liv grinned at him. ‘I'm still curious.'

‘You're still hopeless.' But he smiled.

Caroline appeared and asked if he'd told Liv about the party. ‘It's a house-warming general jolly, Friday next week,' she said. ‘I hope you can come, and stay the night, of course. Would Chris and Val enjoy it? The trouble is, we couldn't put them up too and it's a bit of a hike back afterwards or they could stay somewhere in the town. I thought I'd check with you first before I ask them. Things seem a tad fraught.'

Liv debated. ‘I think it's better to leave it,' she said at last. ‘I'm not sure Val's in party mood and then it might cause more arguments. I'd love it.'

She went out with them to the car, kissed them both, watched them drive away and then went over to the house, banged on the door and went into the hall.

‘Hi,' she shouted. ‘It's me. Anyone around?' She was always careful never to walk into any of the rooms without an acknowledging shout in return.

‘Kitchen.' Val's call was brief.

Liv crossed the hall and put her head round the door. ‘Just seeing if there's anything special to be done,' she said cheerfully. ‘Have you been to the cash-and-carry?'

Val, sitting at the table with a pad and pencil in front of her, shook her head. Her face was drawn, jaw set. Liv noted all the familiar signs and sighed inwardly.

‘Another headache?' she asked sympathetically. ‘Poor you. Why didn't you come and have some lunch?' When Val didn't answer, Liv sat down opposite and looked into the tight, set face. ‘Val,' she said gently. ‘Val, you've got to stop this. You're letting yourself get into a downward spiral of anger and depression and you don't have to go there; you can choose not to. Everything is ticking along, the bookings are flowing in. Why do you want to be deliberately pessimistic? Chris and I both know that things might go wrong; we know we're not out of the wood, and we shouldn't count our chickens and all that stuff. We're not stupid. But neither of us thinks that we have to go round wound up like clocks simply to show that we know that there are possible problems. Just because we try to enjoy the good bits doesn't mean we're blindly optimistic, Val. Stop trying to force us to be worried and miserable because you choose to be.'

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