Charlene frowns at the question ‘Helen?’
‘About those flowers.
‘Oh…yeah…well…I dint go an’ see ‘er…I rung her up instead…I dint want t’go up there in case….you know’ she giggles.
Ingrid takes her turn at frowning.
‘In case they was…you know…what with them only just being married and everything…they might’ve been….you know…. doing it’
Charlene!’ Ingrid laughs.
‘Well, they might have been!’ Charlene insists seriously. ‘My friend’s sister said her husband never left her alone. She daren’t stand still some days, he dint care where they was. I would a been so embarrassed if I went an’ they was..’
‘So you rang instead, fair enough’ Ingrid tries to bring that side of the conversation to a close. ‘So, she’ll pass on your message….you haven’t heard anything else from him?’
‘No, thank goodness!’ Charlene replies with a wide-eyed curl of her lip.
‘Why thank goodness? He seems to be quite a nice guy from what you’ve told me about him’
‘Yeah…but he’s such a prat ….openin’ doors n’ holding chairs out an’ stuff…and he kept standing up every time I did. It were like being with a jack-in-a-box!’
‘Well mannered then’ Ingrid comments mildly.
‘Yeah….s’pose so’ Charlene allows grudgingly. ‘But…oh I dunno…he’s so old!’
‘Oh? I thought he was around the same age as Helen and Kester’
‘He don’t look it….he dresses like he’s about fifty!’ she exclaims with horrified disbelief.
‘And that’s really old’ Ingrid’s mouth twists wryly.
‘Yeah!…’ Charlene grimaces, realising she has put her foot in it. ‘I mean…well….you’re not old…not like he looks old…you look…you don’t seem old at all…not that you are old…’
Nathan comes out of his office, grinning broadly as he shrugs his fluorescent jacket onto his shoulders, a hard hat held in one hand. ‘I’d give up while the going’s good, if I were you’ he says with a nod towards Ingrid. ‘She gets real touchy you mention her age’
He flinches in anticipation of Ingrid’s reaction, jamming on his hard hat as he hurries to the door. A roll of sticky tape hits him on the back of the head.
‘You saw that, didn’t you? You saw her assault me’
‘I never saw nothing’
Samms Plant Hire, Oatfield
Chapter Thirteen
The High Street, Milliwick
‘Cooeeee!’
Nathan turns to see Jessie hurrying up behind him ‘You always catch me with a face full of food’ he grimaces guiltily.
Jessie smacks his hand. ‘I’ve told you before about eating rubbish!’
‘This’ he says, taking another bite of Cornish pasty ‘is not rubbish….really peppery. Want a bite?’
‘No I do not!’
‘What’s up babe?’
‘Babe?’ Jessie pats her hair ‘I say!’ she exclaims, raising her voice in a crescendo. ‘People will talk, you go around calling respectable ladies like me ‘Babe’…they’ll think there’s something going on!’ She looks round in the hope that somebody has heard.
Nathan puts a fisted hand to his mouth, trying not to spit out a mouthful of pasty as he laughs. ‘Behave!’
‘Sorry…yes’ Jessie is genuinely remorseful. ‘The last thing I feel like doing is laugh really’
‘Why, what’s the matter?’ Nathan frowns.
‘I really need to talk to someone….someone I can trust. Can you come round tonight? …Or I can come to you’
‘Have you got some trouble? I can come round now if you need me to’
‘Not me….a friend…not trouble exactly…well, it is…but…They’ve confided in me, that’s all….and I’m not sure what I should do. No need now…tonight’s soon enough. I can see you’re working…And those hands could’ve done with a wash before you ate that thing’
‘That’s what this bit is for’ Nathan holds up the plaited pastry, all he has left of the pasty, before dropping it into its paper bag. ‘You sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure. Shall I make you a bit of dinner?’
‘Just had it’
Nathan, honestly! That settles it, I’ll make us something to eat’
‘Be there about seven’ish?’
‘Lovely’ Jessie replies vaguely. ‘I’ll see you then’
‘Cheer up’ Nathan chides.
Jessie smiles weakly.
‘Not good enough!’ He lifts Jessie by the elbows and kisses her on the forehead. ‘See you tonight, babe’
‘Put me down!’ she giggles, her feet cycling in mid-air. ‘I got all grease on me head now!’ She rubs her forehead furiously with her fingers as he sets her down.
‘Can’t leave my girl without a smile on her face’ Nathan bends to kiss her again. ‘See you later’
Tawny House, Manor Road
The Annexe
‘All I’m saying is that I don’t think you should have burdened Harriet with it!’ Helen snaps crossly, clattering the colander on top of the saucepan and banging the saucepan on the drainer.
‘But I’ve always talked to Harriet about everything’
‘But now you’ve got ME to talk to!’ she continues, sighing as she has to step sideways past Kester to get to the refrigerator. ‘Do you have to stand there?’
‘You want me to stir this, I have to stand here’ Kester snaps in return. ‘It concerns her as much as it concerns me. Why shouldn’t she know?’
‘Concerns…concerns, that’s exactly my point’ She stresses the word. ‘She’s an old woman..’
‘Whoa! Don’t you let her hear you calling her that! She may be getting on a bit in years but no way is she old’
‘She is too old to be worried with things like that!’ Helen tries to retrieve the too large knob of butter she has tossed onto the pasta in her temper.
Kester turns off the gas under his saucepan and pushes it to the back of the hob. ‘Let’s get one thing straight, shall we? There is no way I will ever regard Harriet as too old to be included in anything. I have seen too many people…lonely people…left out of the loop because they’re thought not to be able to cope with whatever family crisis or drama is going on because they’re too old. That simply is not true. All that does is isolate them…make them feel unwanted. They worry more about not being in the know when they sense there damned well is something going on than if they were included in the first place! I’ve seen it okay?’
‘This isn’t little Johnny failing all his exams or Auntie May being caught shoplifting…this isn’t just your father’s life either’
‘Which is why I wanted to ask Harriet for her advice!’ Kester says impatiently. ‘I’m not arguing with you any more. I don’t want this to turn into a full-scale war. What’s done is done. Harriet knows what I know and when she’s turned it over in her mind, she’ll tell me what to do’ He turns back to the saucepan, taking a taste from the spoon.
‘Tell you what to do?’ Helen turns on him as she empties the saucepan of the little water that has drained from the pasta into the sink. ‘For God’s sake, Kester, you’re a grown man! It’s for you to decide. Make your own decisions for goodness sake!’ she says, tipping the pasta into the saucepan again and tossing the butter through.
‘I DO make my own decisions. You think I don’t?’ he asks, staring incredulously. ‘You think I’m not my own man? You think she pulls my strings?’ He turns back and screws more black pepper into the sauce. ‘This is a big decision to have to make on my own. It will affect so many people. I’ve got to think about how they will take it…what it will mean to them….not that they ever gave me any bloody thought…but Dad….Me and him have only just sorted things out between us. I can’t make up my mind if this is going to have him jumping for joy or take his legs from under him’
‘There are other factors to take into account of course’ Helen modifies her tone, sounding matter of fact rather than angry.
‘What?’
‘That you could be wrong….or that you couldn’t prove anything even if you were’ Helen says carefully. ‘This is a memory you’ve dragged up from somewhere but you have no proof. Who’s to say that your understanding of the situation is right after so long? Your mother is not going to admit to anything and from what I know of your brother and sister; they’re hardly likely to want to submit to tests, are they?’
‘But this affair went on for years!’ Kester retorts, flicking sauce on the worktop as he lifts his hands to emphasise his point.
‘You don’t KNOW that…and you don’t KNOW that Imogen and Ellis aren’t your father’s children’
‘They certainly don’t take after him do they?’ He wipes the worktop with kitchen towel.
‘That’s not PROOF! All you’ve got is this memory..’
‘Several memories now..’ he says quietly.
‘Okay…so that original one has unlocked a few more. Lots of women have affairs…not that I’m condoning that…but it does not necessarily mean…’
‘But shouldn’t my father know that there’s a possibility Imogen and Ellis don’t belong to him?’ Kester follows Helen to the table and starts to spoon sauce over the pasta she has served on their plates.
‘To what ends, Kester? Who does it benefit but you?’ she asks, bringing garlic bread from the oven.
‘Me?’ His hand stills.
‘Think about it’ Helen explains, scooping the slices into a napkin lined basket. ‘Harriet is a wealthy woman and, presumably, her estate will pass to your father, already a wealthy man in his own right…’ She takes the baking tray and Kester’s saucepan and puts them on the draining board. ‘If your assumptions are correct and he disowns them as far as being his heirs are concerned, that leaves you to….to put it colloquially, cop for the lot!’ she says, returning to the table. ‘Let’s say that you tell your father…Imogen and Ellis submit to DNA tests or whatever…and you are proved wrong, what then? All it achieves is that they think you have acted out of greed…or spite…or both’
‘I just want that woman to get what’s coming to her!’ Kester growls. ‘Pay back for what she put me through….put my father through’
‘I know, darling…I do know’ Helen says softly.
‘She laughed’ he says, staring down at his plate, unblinking.
‘Kester…please…’
‘She laughed’ He lifts his head at her touch. ‘I’m standing there bleeding and crying and she laughed…’
‘I know…’
‘The two of them…naked… me with blood running down my face…and she laughed’ Kester touches his fingers to his scalp. ‘I can still feel when his shoe hit me…I still remember the hurt…not from the cut…but that she laughed…She didn’t care…I realised she didn’t care’ His mouth twists
‘Please…’ Helen tries to comfort him.
‘Leave me!’ He throws off her hand and pushes back his chair.
‘Kester….don’t…’ She knocks over her own chair in her haste to get to the door before him.
‘I need to be on my own!’ His shoulders heave, his breath coming in huge gulps.
‘I will NOT let you out’ Helen stretches her arms at her sides to block his exit. ‘You talk to me, Kester, you talk it through…but there is no way you are leaving this house. You’re not on your own; you’ve got me now. You helped me…let me help you’
‘Out of my way!’
‘No!’ Helen snatches the key from the lock and runs to the hall door as he turns, slamming it shut and standing in front of it. ‘Cry, damn you! For God’s sake, cry! You think I care that I see you?’
Kester stands with both hands pushed through his hair, his head tipped back and teeth bared in a high pitched, barely audible whine. ‘I can’t…I can’t let go…If I let go, I might never stop’
‘It’s what you need!’ Helen shouts. ‘It’s what you need’ she says again more quietly, moving towards him and reaching up with one hand to pull his head down as her other arm goes around him, hugging him fiercely. ‘It’s what we both need’ she murmurs against his trembling shoulder. ‘Let go, Kester…let go’
