Читать книгу Everything to Gain - Barbara Taylor Bradford - Страница 15

It was very hot and airless in the garden, and within seconds my T-shirt was damp and clinging to me. Even Trixy, trotting along next to me, looked slightly wilted and she wisely flopped down under one of the trestle tables when we reached them.

Late last night Andrew and I had placed the tables under the trees, and I was suddenly glad that we had.

The maples and oaks which formed a semicircle near my studio were old, huge and extravagant, with thick, gnarled trunks and widely spreading branches abundant with leaves. The branches arched up to form a wonderful, giant parasol of leafy green that was cool and inviting and offered plenty of protection from the sun. And we were going to need such a shady spot; by one o’clock it would be a real scorcher of a day, just as Nora had predicted to me on Friday.

Early this morning I had carried red-and-white checked cloths and a big basket of flatware out here, and now I began to set the tables. I had almost finished the largest table, where the adults would sit, when I heard someone calling, ‘Coo-ee!’

I recognized Sarah’s voice at once, and looked up. I waved; she waved back.

She was wearing a white terry cloth robe and dark glasses. Her jet-black hair was piled up on top of her head and there was a mug in her hand. As she drew closer I could see that her face was woebegone.

‘God, I feel awful,’ she moaned, lowering herself gingerly onto the bench in front of the smaller table.

‘I’m not surprised,’ I said, ‘and good morning to you, Miss Parfait.’ This was one of my affectionate nicknames for her.

‘Good morning, Little Mother,’ she answered, using one of her pet names for me.

I grinned and tipped the remainder of the knives and forks out onto the table.

‘Oh please, Mal,’ she groaned, ‘have a heart. Hold the noise down. My head’s splitting, I feel positively ill.’

‘It’s your own fault, you know, you really did tie one on last night.’

‘Thanks a lot, friend, for all your sympathy.’

Realizing that she wasn’t over-dramatizing for once, I went and put my hand on her shoulder. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t tease you. Do you want me to get something for you? Headache pills? Alka-Seltzer?’

‘No, I’ve already taken enough aspirin to sink a battleship. I’ll be okay. Just move around me very, very carefully please, tiptoe on the grass, don’t clatter the tableware and talk in a whisper.’

I shook my head. ‘Oh, Sarah darling, you do punish yourself, don’t you? Thomas Preston III isn’t worth it.’

Sarah paid no attention to my last comment. She said, ‘I guess it must be the Jewish half of me, the Charles Finkelstein half … that’s what I inherited from good old Dad … a penchant for punishing myself, a tendency to treat everything like an ethnic drama, lots of Jewish guilt and dark looks.’

‘Dark good looks,’ I said. ‘And have you heard from Charlie boy lately?’

She smiled and made a little moue. ‘No, I’m afraid I haven’t. He’s got a new wife, yet another waspy blonde like my mother, so I’m the last thing on his mind. I’ll call him next week to see how he is, and I’ll make a date with him and Miranda. I don’t want to lose touch with him again.’

‘No, you mustn’t. Not after he’s finally forgiven you for taking your stepfather’s name. And a waspy name, at that.’

‘Forgiven my mother, you mean!’ she cried, her voice rising slightly. ‘She was the one who changed my name to Thomas, not I. I was seven, not old enough to understand or protest.’

‘I know she did,’ I murmured, walking to the far side of the smaller table, which I now began to set for the children.

Sarah took a long swallow of her coffee then put the mug down. After taking off her sunglasses, she placed her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. Her dark-brown velvety eyes followed me as I moved about.

‘How many are we going to be for lunch, Mal?’ she asked at one moment.

‘About eighteen, I think. Let’s see, there’s my mother and Diana, you and the twins and Jenny, plus me and Andrew, which makes eight. I’ve invited Nora, Eric and Anna, bringing us up to eleven. Then there’re three couples, the Lowdens, the Martins and the Callens, making seventeen, and two more kids. Vanessa, the Callens’ little girl, and Dick and Olivia Martin are bringing their young son, Luke. So I guess that makes nineteen altogether.’

‘All I can say is thank God we don’t have to do the cooking.’

I laughed at the expression on her face. ‘I know what you mean. Luckily, Andrew has everything under control, and he’s roped in all the men to do the barbecuing. Nora and my mother and Diana will help me to fetch and carry.’

‘I’m hoping I’ll feel better by lunchtime, that I’ll be able to pitch in.’

‘It’s not necessary, Sash. Just relax. And in any case, I’m setting up a buffet table here. It’ll hold most of the other food, such as the salads, the breads, the baked beans, baked potatoes and corn. It’s only the hot dogs, hamburgers and chops that’ll have to be brought over from the barbecues on the kitchen patio.’

Sarah nodded but did not say anything for a few minutes, sat staring into space. There was a reflective expression on her face. Eventually, she said slowly, ‘Your mother looks like the cat that’s swallowed the canary this morning.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Her eyes are bright and shiny, and she did nothing but smile at me when I was having my toast. And I couldn’t help thinking that it was a very self-satisfied smile. Even a bit smug.’

‘I guess I can tell you,’ I began, and then I hesitated.

‘Sure you can, you’ve been telling me everything since the day you could talk.’

‘It’s supposed to be a secret.’

‘So what, you’ve always told me your secrets, Mal. Yours and everybody else’s, actually.’

‘Well, so have you too!’ I shot back.

‘I bet it’s to do with a man.’ Sarah grinned at me and winked.

‘I’m impressed. How did you guess?’

She burst out laughing. ‘She has that look. The look, the one that says “I have a man and he’s all mine.” A guy might not recognize it but every woman does.’

‘My mother’s getting married.’

‘Golly gee whizz! You’ve got to be kidding!’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘Good for Auntie Jess. Who’s the man?’

‘David Nelson. I think you’ve met him once or twice when he’s been at my mother’s.’

Sarah let out a low whistle. ‘He’s quite a catch, I’d say. Very good-looking and successful, and younger than her.’

‘Are you sure he’s younger?’

‘Yes, I am. My mother said something to me a few months ago about Aunt Jess and David, and she mentioned he was about fifty-eight.’

‘Oh, only four years, that’s not much. Anyway, my mother looks a lot younger than he, don’t you think?’

‘Yes, she does.’

‘I can’t imagine why she wants to get another face-job, though. She doesn’t need it, in my opinion.’

If Sarah was startled by my comment she did not show it. She said, ‘No, she doesn’t, but she may feel insecure, worried about her age. That’s the way my mother is now that she’s turned sixty, always attempting to look younger. A lot of women think that’s a milestone, I guess.’

I shrugged. ‘Maybe. On the other hand, sixty’s not old. In fact, it’s considered young today. This morning, when my mother mentioned she wanted to have a little nip and tuck, I tried to convince her she didn’t need it. But she’ll do what she wants, she always has.’

‘I wonder if she’s told my mother? About getting married.’

‘I don’t know. But don’t say anything, Sash, just in case she hasn’t. As I said, it’s a secret. Mom hasn’t even told my father yet, nor has she talked to her lawyer about a divorce. She just made her mind up in the last couple of days … at least, that’s the impression she gave me.’

‘I won’t tell a soul, I promise, Mal. And I’m really glad for Auntie Jess, glad she’s happy.’

‘I am too.’ I paused, staring at Sarah without saying anything for a moment, then I flopped down opposite her.

‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, frowning slightly, pinning her beautiful dark eyes on mine.

I shook my head. ‘No. I had a sort of … well, a sort of revelation earlier. My mother was fussing with the potato salad, and I suddenly found myself remembering an incident with a potato salad that happened on another July fourth morning. When I was five. I’d buried it deep and forgotten all about it. Anyway, the memory came back, at least a fragment of it, and I started thinking about my parents and their relationship when I was little, and I suddenly felt rather sorry for my mother. It struck me that she must have suffered greatly when she was a younger woman.’

Sarah nodded in agreement. ‘Looking back, she probably did. She was always alone. You two were always alone. At least that’s the way I remember it.’

I was silent for a moment, before murmuring, ‘I had the most awful feeling inside this morning, Sashy …’

‘What kind of feeling?’

‘I felt sick at heart. I suddenly understood that I’d been unfair, that I’d probably done my mother a terrible injustice – and for years.’