Chapter Twenty-Five
Alice and Robyn had been taken to the park by Dad. "I could use some fresh air," he'd announced. "So, how about you two come with me to the park, and we can all have a go on that fabulous slide?"
"Can we feed the ducks, Grandad?" Robyn asked, and Dad had assured her they could. I'd also heard him promise, in a whisper, that he would buy them both the most enormous ice cream, complete with a big, fat, chocolate flake and sprinkles. They could hardly wait to leave the house.
Mum was still in shock over Redmond's departure. He and Kitty had driven off the previous evening, looking blissfully happy and seemingly desperate to get to Scotland and start living their brand-new life together. Mum was in despair, as if he was emigrating to Australia, or something.
"It's only the Western Isles, love," Dad put his arm around her on the doorstep, as we’d all waved the two of them off on their new adventure. "We can visit. Sounds like there's plenty of accommodation for us to choose from."
"But he had such a wonderful life," she said tearfully. "He had a stable marriage, a beautiful house, a great job. Now look at him."
"He'll have an even better life with Kitty," I assured her. "He'll finally be with someone who loves him, they'll have the baby he's longed for, and they'll be living on a beautiful Scottish island with Kitty's family to support them, and money coming in regularly from his new job. I don't know why you're so worried."
"It's a Scottish island," she said, eyes wide. "What if he turns to whisky and starts wearing a kilt?"
Tamsin had nodded. "You know, I'll bet that's exactly what will happen," she confirmed. "Bet he grows a really long beard, too, and keeps his Curly Wurlys in his sporran. How on earth will we live with the shame?"
We’d all looked at each other, and burst out laughing. "I suppose you're right," Mum said wearily. "I'll just miss him, that's all, and Lewis seems so far away. And then there's the baby—our grandchild. I would like to see something of it, but I doubt we will."
"Don't be daft, love," Dad said, squeezing her shoulders. "Kitty said we'd be welcome any time, and she seems to be the sort who means what she says. Personally, I'm feeling a lot easier about Redmond now. I knew he wasn't really happy. Seems things are working out beautifully for him. Two down, one to go."
They both looked at Tamsin, who went red and folded her arms. "Don't look at me like that," she said defiantly. "I'm quite sorted, thank you very much. In fact, hearing Susan carrying on like that brought me to my senses. I'm definitely going to file for a divorce as soon as I get home, and then I'm going to get on with my life."
"But what life will that be without Brad?" Mum said anxiously.
"Charming," Tamsin said. "You think I'm completely useless without a man in my life? Well, for your information, I'm going back to college to train as a florist. I intend to get a job doing what I love, and what I know I'm good at. I've already been accepted, and I start in September. So, you see, my life is on the up, too. I couldn't be happier."
She'd put on a brave face for the rest of the evening, but with her daughters out of the way, she'd completely crumbled. I sat there, listening to her sobs and wondering what the hell I could do to make things better.
"Have you spoken to Brad lately?" I said eventually, as her crying quietened down, and she reached for a tissue, sniffing disconsolately.
"Last week," she managed, rubbing her eyes. "He wanted to know when the car insurance was up for renewal."
"And what did you talk about?" I said gently.
Her red, teary eyes widened. "Talk about? Car insurance."
"And that's it? I mean, have you actually spoken to him about what's going on with your marriage? With him."
She shook her head.
"But why not? Why aren't you tackling this properly, Tamsin? You need to know what's happening."
"I can't," she whispered. "I just can't."
"But why?"
"Because I don't want to know," she burst out. Tears began to roll down her cheeks again. "I just can't hear him say the words, Cara. I can't. Once he says them, that's it. I mean, that's really it."
"What words?"
"That he doesn't love me anymore." She gasped. "That there's someone else who means as much to him as Kitty does to Redmond."
"Oh, Tamsin." I sighed and held her hand. "You really do still love him, don't you?"
"No!" She dabbed at her face with a tissue, then sobbed. "Yes. Of course I still love him. But I can't ever take him back after this, and anyway, he doesn't want me, does he? That much is obvious. I have to forget him and move on with my life, but it's so hard and I feel so pathetic for feeling this bad. I should be angry with him. I should have put him behind me and moved on by now. He doesn't deserve my love, does he? He doesn't deserve all these tears! But I just can't help it. How did you do it?"
"I'm sorry?" I said, startled.
"How did you move on after Seth? How did you find the strength to walk away?"
"It really wasn't difficult at all in the end," I confessed, realising it was true. "I think I cried all my tears while I was still with him. Then they just stopped. I had no more tears left for him—no feelings at all, really. It was easy to walk away once I'd made my mind up. Quite honestly," I admitted, accepting it at last, "I don't think I ever really loved him. It was an infatuation. I was very young, and I had no idea what love really was."
I really hadn't, had I? What Seth had stirred in me seemed so childish in hindsight, so immature.
I thought about Ethan, and the difference hit me with a bang.
Why, I wondered yet again, had it taken me so long to realise that Seth wasn't the one for me? Because, I finally admitted to myself, that would have meant facing up to the fact that I'd truly wasted fourteen years of my life on a fantasy. I'd thrown away my family, my home, my chances of a career, of a happy marriage, of motherhood, for ... that. I'd been fooled by passion, blinded by a stupid belief that some mythical true love could conquer all.
"Of course," I said heavily, "I eventually grew up and realised it wasn't enough, but by then, I'd made my bed, and I didn't think anyone else would want to lie in it with me except him, so I stayed. And in the end, I was so beaten down with it all that I couldn't imagine being happy, whether I was with him, or not. It was the piano that did it, of all things." I laughed suddenly, still astonished that something so simple had completely broken the spell. "I know it sounds crazy, but it was the final straw. Just woke me up and gave me the energy to take my life back in my own hands."
Tamsin nodded, staring at the wall. "I wonder what it was that woke Brad up?" she murmured.
"You have to talk to him," I said. "Properly, I mean. You have to find out what's going on in his mind."
She gave a mirthless laugh. "And when I discover that he's got some gorgeous girl knocked up and is about to move away with her, then what?"
"Brad's not Redmond," I reminded her, "and you're definitely not Susan. Be brave."
But as fresh tears welled up in her eyes, I had the awful feeling that she wouldn't muster the courage to contact her husband. She was broken. And I had no idea how to fix her.
#
"What are you smiling at, Auntie Cara?"
I opened one eye, holding my hand to my face to shade out the sun.
Robyn stood over me, watching me curiously. Alice sat a few feet away, picking daisies to add to the daisy chain that was draped over her legs.
"Nothing," I said. "Just daydreaming."
Robyn plonked herself down on the grass beside me and gave a big sigh. "I wish Mummy would smile," she confided. "She never does anymore."
My heart contracted. "Well, it's been a difficult time for her lately. For all of you."
"When's Daddy coming home?" Her voice was small.
Alice glanced up at her. "He's not. I've told you, Robyn. Don't talk about it, or you'll upset Mummy."
"But why isn't he coming home?" Robyn pleaded. "I don't understand. Where's he living now? And when will we see him? It's been ages."
"Haven't you seen him since he left home?" I said, shocked.
They shook their heads. "I don't think he loves us anymore." Alice's voice wobbled and there was a hint of a tear in her eye, but she defiantly tossed her head and picked another daisy. She was so much like Tamsin, it hurt to look at her.
I sat up and shuffled over to sit beside her, holding out my hand to Robyn at the same time. We all sat together, and I put my arms around them. "Now, you listen to me," I told them. "I don't know what's going on between your mummy and daddy, any more than you do, but one thing I do know is that they both love you to bits. Your daddy must have a very good reason for staying away, but I absolutely know that he'll be thinking of you all the time, and I'll bet he's missing you so much that it won't be long before he makes some sort of arrangement to see you."
"But if he loves us, he wouldn't have left us, would he?" Robyn asked.
"Whatever has gone on with Mummy and Daddy, it has absolutely nothing to do with you. They adore you, you must know that?"
They both tutted, and Alice wrenched another daisy from the ground. "Suppose so," she muttered, her voice sounding suspiciously choked.
Robyn's eyes filled with tears. "But what if he doesn't love us?" she whispered. "What if he's fed up with us?"
"Why on earth would he be fed up with you?"
"He was never at home," she pointed out. "When he lived with us, I mean. Mummy used to get really sad. She pretended she didn't mind, but we knew she did."
"If he loved us, he'd have wanted to be with us," Alice said determinedly.
"But he was just very busy," I said, desperate to ease their pain. "It wasn't because he didn't want to be with you. He just had an awful lot to do." I stared at their little pinched faces and felt a lurch of grief for them. "Like you!" I exclaimed suddenly.
They looked up at me, clearly baffled. "What do you mean, like us?"
"Okay," I said eagerly, desperate to make them understand, "you love your mummy, right?"
They nodded. "Of course we do," Robyn said indignantly.
"Yet, you don't stay home much with her, do you? I mean, you have things to do, too. You're always here, there, and everywhere. All those activities you do. It's not because you don't want to be with your mummy, it's because you have busy lives. Just like Daddy. He wasn't out to avoid you all, he was just terribly busy."
They looked at each other. "It's not the same," Alice said.
"Yes, it is," I said.
Robyn shook her head. "It's not."
I sighed. "Well, I think it is," I said, feeling defeated.
"He's not going to come home, is he?" Robyn's bottom lip quivered.
I wanted to assure them that everything would be fine, that their father would be home before they knew it, and the issues between their parents would be resolved, but I couldn't. "I don't know," I admitted. "But whatever happens, you will see him regularly, I promise you that."
"Dahlia's going to love this," Alice said grumpily.
Robyn gave her a sympathetic look. "Just ignore her."
"Who's Dahlia?" I said. "And what's she going to love?"
"The boss of my class." Alice pulled a face. "She told everyone that Daddy left, and they all think it's really funny. I told her he was away on a business trip and was coming back, and she said I was a liar. Now everyone will know she was right."
"How did Dahlia know he'd even left?" I said.
"Mummy told someone at Pilates class, and they told Dahlia's mummy. I hate her."
"I hate them all," Robyn said vehemently. "I hate that school."
My eyes widened. "What do you mean, you hate that school?"
"It's horrible. We've always hated it," Robyn confided. "But you won't tell Mummy, will you? We don't want to upset her even more."
"But why do you hate it?"
Alice considered the matter. "The girls there are all stuck up. They make fun of us, and they don't let us join in with anything. Not like our old friends. We really miss them."
"Don't you ever see them?"
Robyn nodded. "Yes, but only after school."
"Well, that's something," I said. "And you have to admit, you have a fabulous social life. What, with one club after another, I reckon you're going to be Olympic stars of the future, or prima ballerinas."
I laughed, but they didn't seem to see the funny side. "We're not very good at anything," Alice admitted. "But then again, we don't really try very hard."
"It's boring," Robyn added.
"What's boring?" I was bewildered. "Gymnastics? Swimming? Ice skating? Ballet? Tap?"
"All of it," Robyn said, with some feeling.
"Not all of it," Alice corrected her. "I like dancing. It's quite good fun."
"Hang on a minute." I was totally confused. "If you don't like all those activities, why on earth do you make your mother drive you there every night?"
Alice seemed to give up on her daisy chain. She examined the string of flowers in her hand, then threw them on the ground beside her and heaved a big sigh. "Because," she said, as if explaining to a five-year-old, "Lucy goes to gymnastics, Katie goes to swimming, and Megan does ice skating."
"And Florence swims, too, and Juliet likes dance class."
"What does that matter? You're going to the classes to keep up with your classmates?"
Alice tutted. "They're not our classmates. At least, not anymore."
Light was beginning to dawn. "You mean, you go to the classes to catch up with your old schoolfriends? The ones from your previous school?"
They nodded. "Yes. We really miss them, but Mummy wants us to make new friends and play with the girls at our new school, and we don't like them half as much. They don't want to play with us, anyway. Mummy said we have to concentrate on making new friends, never mind our old ones, but she doesn't realise our old friends go to the classes." Alice sighed. "I did try to make new friends, you know. I went to Dahlia Robertson's house once for tea, and it was awful. It was when I first started at the school, and I think I was only invited so they could be nosy. Her mother was really stuck up, and she wanted me to tell her all about Daddy's job. What's it got to do with her? I fibbed and told her he was the Prime Minister, and she gave me a funny look and didn't ask me round again. Dahlia told everyone at school she wasn't allowed to talk to me anymore because I was a—a fantasy."
"A fantasist," I said absently. So, Alice and Robyn hated their new school, and all those activities that drove poor Tamsin mad and cost her so much money were just ways of getting to see their old friends? What a waste of time and money. There was a distinct lack of communication in their little family, and it made me wonder what other misunderstandings they were paying for. I stood up, brushing grass from the back of my skirt.
"Where are you going?" Robyn asked, squinting up at me as the sun shone in her face.
"I just have something to do," I told her. "How about you two go and wash up for tea, and see if Grandma wants any help? If you ask very nicely, she may even let you have strawberries for afters."
They looked quite pleased about that, especially when I added that I was pretty sure they'd be allowed cream with them, and headed into the kitchen to pester Mum. I dashed upstairs to the little back bedroom that had been mine since I was about nine, when Tamsin's makeup had taken over the bigger bedroom that we'd shared, causing me to throw a massive strop and insist that the ‘box room’ be cleared for me.
I couldn't remember why I had Brad's mobile number in my phonebook. I just knew it was there. It might have had something to do with Tamsin's birthday one year—some party that he'd arranged for her, back in the days when he actually cared, and he'd called me about it. I must have stored the number out of habit.
I jabbed at the phone screen and held the phone to my ear as I listened to the dial tone. Brad answered, just when I was on the point of giving up and throwing the phone across the room in despair.
"Cara? What is it? What's happened?" He sounded genuinely worried, which wasn't surprising, given that I'd never rung him before in my life. "Is it the kids? Tamsin?"
"Both of the above," I answered shortly. "You need to get your sorry arse to Mum and Dad's, Brad, and sort this mess out, once and for all. And, quite frankly, I'm not going to take no for an answer."
#
"Don't worry, Mum. It's all in hand," I said confidently, hanging up the tea towel and closing the cupboard door. "Things will get sorted today, one way, or the other."
She eyed me suspiciously. "What have you done?"
"You'll see. Someone had to do something, and I guess it fell to me."
"Oh, hell." She wiped the taps with a dishcloth. "If this all goes wrong, it's on your head." She winked at me. "Mind you, if it goes well, it was down to me."
"Okay," I said. "Seeing as you invited us all down to sort things, I guess I can give you that."
Mum glanced across at Dad, as he wiped the table. "Are you all right, Ray?"
"I'm fine, love. Right as rain," he assured her.
"Why wouldn't he be?" I said. "He's only wiping the table, not building one." I looked from one to the other of them. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
"Don't be so paranoid." Dad hooked his arm over my shoulder. "Like we said, I was a bit rundown and feeling a bit low about retiring. That holiday away has done me the power of good, and I'm fit as a fiddle now. Mind you, can I say the same about you?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"You've lost weight," he observed. "Quite a bit of weight."
"That's a good thing. I'd got very porky. I was barely fitting into my clothes."
He tutted. "Nothing wrong with having a bit of meat on the bone. Are you sure you're all right, love? Me and your mum couldn't believe you'd walked out on that man, at last. It must have taken some courage."
"It would have taken more to stay. I'm just sorry it took me so long."
"And what about now?" Mum's brow creased. "What's this new job like? Are you happy? Are you settled?"
"It will do for now," I said vaguely.
I didn't want to make them any more anxious than they already were. How could I tell them that the job wasn't permanent? Adele would be going to school before I knew it, and I would be looking for another job and another home. Then there was the little matter of my growing attraction towards, and liking for, Ethan Rochester. That could come to no good. He was way, way out of my league and would grow tired of me very quickly.
Besides, I had to find my own way. I had to find something that I was actually good at, and make a new career for myself. A new life. And no man could distract me from that task, particularly one so obviously superior to me as Ethan. The problem was going to be keeping a clear head while I stayed at Moreland Hall. I had to remember that there was no future in it, and that falling for him would only bring me more unhappiness.
"What do you mean, for now?" Mum demanded. "What are you planning?"
A loud knock on the door saved me from having to answer. We all looked at each other, and Dad narrowed his eyes. "Expecting someone, Cara?"
I shrugged. "I had to do something. This is for the best, really it is."
He heaved a big sigh. "So much for the peace and quiet of retirement. I'd better go and answer the door, then."
"I'll go," I said. "One of you had better warn Tamsin."
"I'll take the kids upstairs," Mum said, but I put my hand on her arm. "Not yet, Mum. They need to see him. They've really missed him, and I daresay he's missed them, too."
She hesitated, but nodded, and hurried into the living room to warn my sister. Dad looked at me. "Here we go, then. Round two."
Brad was pale when I opened the door to him. He'd lost weight, too, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. If he was living it up with some other woman, it didn't appear to have brought him much joy. "Hi, Cara."
His voice was different, humbler. My heart went out to him. "Come in, Brad."
Tamsin looked horror-struck when we walked into the living room, but any protest she may have made was drowned out by the delighted shrieks from Alice and Robyn, who hurled themselves at their father. I watched him crouch down to gather them to him, and when he lifted his face, there were tears in his eyes. I looked across at my sister, huddled in the chair, her arms wrapped around herself as if for protection. She chewed her lip and stared at her husband, fear in her face.
"Tamsin." He simply stared back at her, seeming unable to say anything else.
"I think we'll leave you to it," Mum said. She held out her arms to the girls. "Come on, lovelies. Let's leave Mummy and Daddy to talk for a while, shall we?"
"You won't go without telling us?" Robyn pleaded, reluctant to let go of Brad's hand.
He shook his head. "I promise," he managed, his voice choked.
Alice kissed him, and Robyn threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, then they followed Mum out of the room.
"Talk to each other," I ordered. "And listen. Both of you."
Then I left them to it and headed into the kitchen to sit with Mum and Dad, as they tried valiantly to entertain two clearly anxious children.
It was about an hour later, when Tamsin popped her head round the door. Her face was blotchy and swollen with crying, her lids heavy, and she looked frozen. "We're just going out for a walk," she told us. "We won't be too long. Will you be okay with the girls?"
"Of course," Dad said. "Get off with you."
"At least we can watch the telly now," Mum said, with forced brightness. "Come on, girls. Let's see what's on, shall we?"
Whatever was on, it didn't seem to hold their attention very well. In fact, they were extremely restless, and who could blame them? Whatever Brad and Tamsin were talking about, they were definitely being thorough about it. Was that a good thing, I wondered? Or were they taking their time because they had to sort out the divorce? Custody, access, the house, that sort of thing. I really hoped I'd done the right thing, forcing Tamsin to face up to the state of her marriage.
When they finally came home, the girls were just about falling asleep, and Mum was making fretful noises about getting them to bed.
I relaxed when I saw that they were holding hands, and Tamsin's face, although tear-streaked, was smiling. Brad looked like a new man.
"What happened?" Mum looked from one to the other. "Is it sorted?"
Tamsin glanced at Brad, and he pulled her to him and smiled down at her. "It is," he confirmed. "I'm coming home."
The girls shrieked with excitement and rushed over to him, and Tamsin smiled across at me and mouthed, ‘Thank you.’
I winked at her, feeling so happy I could burst.
After the girls had gone to bed, Tamsin and Brad sat with us in the living room, Brad having accepted Mum and Dad's invitation to stay over so they could all go home together the next day. As we drank wine, they explained what they'd been talking about, and what they'd discovered.
"It was all my fault," Tamsin said, shaking her head.
Brad took her hand. "No it wasn't. It was both of us. We stopped listening, stopped talking. It takes two to ruin a marriage."
"And two to fix it," she said. "Or, in our case," she added, glancing across at me affectionately, "three."
"Thank you so much for calling me, Cara," Brad said. "I would never have had the nerve to come here, if you hadn't told me what you told me."
"I can't believe the girls feel like that about school," Tamsin said, still clearly shocked. "They never said a word. All that time and money, running around after them, and all the time, they just wanted to be with their old friends at their old school. Well, as soon as we get home, that's the first thing we'll sort out. I'll be glad to see the back of that dratted school, anyway."
"So, the children were only going to all those activities to meet up with their pals?" Dad shook his head, laughing. "You two have been a bit daft, haven't you?"
Brad nodded. "And not just about the girls," he admitted. "Talk about crossed wires. I was working all the hours God sends, worrying about Tamsin's spending habits. She seemed to live for the house and these wretched activities that the girls were doing. Then there were the classes she attended herself, and the constant demands for alterations and redecoration in the house. I felt as if the only thing I was there for was to make money. I worked myself into the ground, and I was just too exhausted to do anything else. And it made me resentful and angry. In the end, I thought, well, let her have the money. I may as well move out because, clearly, it's the bank account that matters, and she can have that, no matter what."
"Oh, Tamsin, how could you?" Mum said reproachfully.
"But I was only filling my time with classes and doing up the house because I missed Brad so much!" Tamsin exclaimed, somewhat defensively. "I hated the fact that he seemed to care far more about his job than he did about me and the children. I thought he preferred the office to home, and I felt so resentful and lonely. All that time," she added, gazing up at her husband, "and we were each missing the other, and longing for a normal life, and neither of us knew it."
Brad sighed. "If only one of us had the courage to say something."
"Well, it will all be different from now on," Tamsin said determinedly. "The kids can leave that wretched school, which will save us a fortune, and once they're back at their old place, they can pick one out-of-school activity, and the rest will be dropped. I shouldn't imagine they'll care, as they'll be back with their friends all day. Why they didn't just tell me they missed them, I can't imagine."
"Same reason you didn't tell Brad you missed him, I suppose," Dad pointed out.
She blushed. "Yeah. Fair point. Anyway, after that, we're putting the house on the market and finding somewhere smaller and cheaper, and Brad's going to cut down his hours, while I go to college and do my course, then we're going into business together."
"Into business?" I said astonished. "Doing what?"
"Once I qualify as a florist, Brad's going to set me up with my own little flower shop. He's going to do all the accounts and business stuff, and I'll be doing the flowers. We'll be worse off financially, no doubt, but with no school fees and a reduced mortgage, it should be do-able."
"And I shall put money aside in the meantime," Brad added. "It will be a couple of years before Tamsin qualifies, so we have time to plan and put things in place."
"Are you sure about this?" Dad looked worried. "New businesses are risky, especially in these uncertain times."
"I can always do freelance stuff," Brad said. "If we need extra income, I can make it. That's not a problem. I just want to support my wife and be with her. I've had a hell of a shock. I really thought we were over. I'm not about to let her go again."
"You won't get the chance," Tamsin promised him. "I'll superglue you to my side, if I have to. I can't go through all this again. I love you so much."
Mum, Dad and I pulled faces and made mocking noises as they kissed, but I knew my parents would be just as delighted about the outcome as I was. It seemed I'd done the right thing, after all. Which just left my own life to sort out.