Oliver opens Zennor’s email and downloads the attachments. She’s marked four properties as possibles and he’s eager to see what she’s found. He hears the front door open and Sebastian and Jamie squabbling as they enter the house. Back from school.
‘Sebastian, put your football kit in the utility room.’ Deanna’s voice carries along the hallway.
As he rushes past the open study door carrying a large bag, Sebastian calls out, ‘Hi, Dad.’
‘Hello, Seb,’ Oliver says, glancing up from the computer screen.
Deanna appears in the doorway. ‘How was the glamorous Sabrina yesterday? I hope she hasn’t persuaded you to take on that film role.’
‘As glamorous as ever and, no, she hasn’t persuaded me.’
‘I’m just putting a wash on for Sebastian. He’s got a match at the weekend.’ She turns to go, but then looks back. ‘Oh, by the way, Ollie, I’m not around so you’ll have to ferry him.’
‘That’s not on the timetable,’ Oliver says. Believing he had a weekend free of family duties, he was contemplating going to Cornwall to view properties.
‘No,’ Deanna says, averting her eyes. ‘Something’s come up and I have to be in London.’
‘All weekend?’ he asks, aware of a sudden shift in atmosphere.
‘Yes.’ Deanna glances at her husband.
What’s she up to?
‘Care to enlighten me?’ he asks.
‘I have some business to attend to but I’ll be back late Sunday afternoon,’ she says evasively. ‘You finish filming next week, don’t you?’
‘Wednesday.’
‘Good.’ Deanna turns to go.
‘And the following weekend I’m away,’ Oliver says, returning to the computer screen.
Deanna turns back to her husband. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Just away, Deanna. I, too, have some business to take care of.’
Deanna’s eyes narrow. This could jeopardise her plans for the week. ‘What days exactly?’
‘Friday through to Tuesday I expect,’ says Oliver in a matter of fact voice.
‘That’s not exactly convenient.’
Oliver glances at his wife. ‘Don’t say I haven’t given you fair notice, Deanna. You can’t suddenly announce your arrangements and expect me to always fall in with your plans.’
He watches as she checks the hallway before entering the room. Closing the door firmly behind her, she walks to his desk.
‘All right, Oliver, you’ve made your point,’ she says coldly. Oliver arches an eyebrow. ‘Don’t you want me to have a happy, fulfilled life?’
‘Of course. You know I do.’
‘Then why are you making it so difficult for me to have an independent life from you all.’
‘Is that what you want, an independent life from us all?’
‘Oh, I don’t mean that,’ she says in exasperation, ‘you know I don’t. But I do want a life that’s my own, not just as the film star’s wife and mother to his children.’
‘Is that so awful?’
‘Stop being tricky, Oliver. You know what I mean.’ Deanna steadies herself.
‘All right, Deanna. You go off and have your weekend in London but remember I won’t be around the following weekend. Going forward from here, please mark every occasion you’re unavailable on the timetable. We cannot let the children suffer while we try to work things out.’
Deanna stares at her husband. She’s normally the cool one, but something about Oliver’s demeanour is uncharacteristically detached and remote.
‘Just pass me the bloody timetable.’ She thrusts her hand out across the desk.
Oliver opens the drawer, removes the diary and hands it to her. He watches as she crosses out dates and flags up new commitments before throwing it across the desk at him. He studies her amendments carefully and notices that it’s not long before she is unavailable for duties during the week.
‘Is there something you’ve forgotten to tell me?’ he asks, pointing with his index finger to the weeks of her absence.
‘That’s when I start my job.’
Oliver stares at his wife. He should be overjoyed for her but the way she’s handled it has taken away any gracious thoughts. ‘Will you have completed on the apartment by then?’
‘Not quite.’ Deanna colours slightly. ‘I’m staying with friends until I do.’
‘Friends, Deanna?’
‘Oh, if you must know, Pins says he will put me up for a few weeks until I can move in.’
‘I see.’
‘What do you see?’ Deanna asks.
‘I see that you want a single life during the week in London with your new-found friends, but you also want to come home to your family at weekends.’
‘How bloody hypocritical!’ Deanna shouts.
Marching around the desk, she stands at Oliver’s side shaking with rage. How dare he suggest she is irresponsible after all the times he’s been absent over the years? Pins said he might do this. How right he was! That beautiful, dazzling, brilliant man has such insight. On the computer screen is an image of a desirable house with lawns running down to a river. What’s this? What the hell is her husband doing now? Grabbing the screen, she turns it towards her, and her eyes open wide.
‘Why are you looking at property in Cornwall?’
Oliver sighs. ‘It’s not only you who is investing in property.’
Deanna’s jaw drops. Unable to prevent herself, she looks up at Cara’s paintings and the colour drains from her face. He’s not mentioned her once since that awful summer. They had a huge falling out at the time and it took many months for life to return to normal, but she thought they’d moved on. Taking a deep breath, Deanna turns back to her husband.
‘But why Cornwall, Ollie?’ she asks, her tone conciliatory.
‘Why not? It’s a beautiful county.’
‘So are Hampshire, Dorset, Devon, and many other counties. Why Cornwall?’ she says, irritated by his evasion.
‘Just because…’
‘No, Oliver. That’s not good enough. WHY CORNWALL?’ Deanna asks, raising her voice. She wants to hear him say it.
‘Because it will be a great place for the children to have holidays – they can spend days on the beach, surfing and sailing, exploring the cliffs, or walking the moors. Because it’s an escape from the Home Counties and it will give us time out. Because the county has plenty to offer and there are lots of things to do. Because there are myths and legends that give Cornwall an air of mystery, and its history is interesting and inspiring. Need I go on?’
Deanna is lost for words. Somewhere in her subconscious she suspects Oliver wants to be close to Cara, but she’s unlikely to get him to admit it.
‘If you buy a house in Cornwall, Oliver, neither I nor the children will ever visit.’
Oliver gives a hollow laugh. ‘What a ridiculous thing to say. Our children will not be children much longer. They will make up their own minds. You may find, Deanna, your control over our family is not as all-powerful as you imagine it to be.’
Deanna purses her lips. She has given Oliver the best years of her life! How right Pins is; she owes it to herself to pursue her career. Glaring at her husband, Deanna marches to the door.
‘You can sleep in the spare room,’ she says, before slamming the door behind her.
Oliver sighs. Opening the drawer again, he takes out a bottle, unscrews the cap and tips a couple of lithium tablets into his mouth. He throws back his head and swallows. He knows he shouldn’t be taking this high dosage but Deanna has pushed him close to the edge. She’s getting worryingly good at that. Rising from his chair, he walks over to Cara’s painting of the cove. As always, something about her brushstrokes soothes his soul. He studies the half-dozen gulls hanging in the air, greedily eyeing the sands below as the tide gently ebbs. Diverting his gaze to the painting of the theatre under the stars, he studies the cormorants and wills them to flap their wings. But the birds are still. No sign of life.
Returning to his desk, Oliver picks up the phone and makes the call. ‘Hello, Zennor. You’re right, there are contenders here. Please book viewings for the weekend after next.’