Читать книгу She - HC Warner - Страница 16

Ben and Bella pulled onto the gravel driveway, Ben’s Mercedes sighing to a halt, as if it had run out of breath. They didn’t get out of the car immediately, but seemed to be having a terse conversation, both their faces set rigid as they stared straight ahead.

Jo felt a prickle of unease, as she watched them from the doorway. She had had a strange feeling of foreboding since she woke up this morning and couldn’t put her finger on why.

She hoped she was imagining it, but Ben’s body language seemed different, as he finally got out of the car and opened Bella’s door, before helping her out.

Jo plastered a smile on her face as she swung open the door and waved. ‘Hello, you two! Happy Christmas!’

Ben grinned as they reached her and he bent down to kiss her on the cheek. ‘Hi, Mum, happy Christmas.’

‘And look at you!’ Jo beamed, motioning to Bella’s rounded stomach. ‘You’re cooking nicely.’

Bella’s face hardened as she offered her cold cheek to accept a kiss from Jo. ‘You make me sound like a bloody turkey!’

Jo looked at her in surprise. ‘Oh! Well you’re certainly the most glamorous turkey I’ve ever seen.’

There was an awkward pause as both Jo and Ben watched Bella to see if she would accept the compliment. ‘Right,’ she said eventually. ‘Are we standing out here all day or are we allowed to come in?’

Jo’s unease deepened. Why was Bella being so bloody prickly? She decided to blame the pregnancy hormones and gave what she knew was a fake laugh. ‘Of course! Come on through. Peter’s in the kitchen.’

Ben took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack in the hallway, before turning towards Bella and reaching out to take her coat. ‘Leave it!’ she snapped, slapping his hand away. ‘I’m cold.’ Jo caught Ben’s eye for a split second. There was a look of resignation there that she didn’t like one bit.

‘Look who’s here!’ she said brightly, as they reached the kitchen, where Peter was busy stirring his mulled wine on the Aga. He made it every year at Christmas and every year they all pretended to like it. The time had long since passed when they could tell him they all thought it was disgusting. At least the home-made mince pies went some way towards taking the taste away.

Peter wiped his hands on a tea towel and turned towards Ben and Bella. ‘Hello, you two. Happy Christmas!’

Jo watched with interest to see if Bella gave Peter the same prickly response but to her surprise, and annoyance, she moved into Peter’s arms and gazed up at him with a radiant smile. ‘Happy Christmas, Peter! That mulled wine smells divine … almost makes me wish I could drink it.’

Peter flushed and flicked Jo a panicked look, before clearing his throat. ‘Well, you’ll be pleased to hear that you can … I made it non-alcoholic this year, knowing that you didn’t drink.’

‘Did you? You didn’t say.’ Jo felt a sudden spike of anger towards Peter that took her by surprise.

But either Peter didn’t hear her or chose to ignore her, as he reached for one of the pewter goblets he had lined up on the pale granite work surface and poured Bella a generous serving. Bella took it with her eyes shining, as if he had handed her a goblet of solid gold. ‘How wonderful,’ she murmured, sipping it, gazing at Peter over the top of her glass. Jo watched her carefully, noting the slight blanch as she swallowed each mouthful, clearly detesting it but valiantly hiding her dislike from Peter.

‘Well,’ Jo clapped her hands a little too over-enthusiastically, ‘let’s go through and make ourselves comfortable, shall we? Bella, are you sure you won’t take off your coat?’

‘No.’ Bella didn’t look at Jo as she spoke. ‘I’d rather keep it on as I’m feeling a bit chilled.’ She glanced up at Peter with an apologetic smile.

‘Oh dear, I do hope you’re not sickening for something?’ Peter said, causing another ripple of annoyance to quiver through Jo’s chest. Peter was notoriously unsympathetic to anyone who was ill. Then she wondered if he was being sarcastic. She couldn’t tell.

‘Pregnancy’s not an illness, is it, Bella?’ Jo was aiming for a jokey tone, but her voice sounded sharp.

Bella raised her large eyes towards Jo with a hurt expression. ‘Um, no, I guess not.’

Ben looked at Jo with an accusing stare and she could feel a flush spreading up her neck. Why did she feel as if she was in the wrong when it was Bella who was being so offhand?

After an awkward silence, the four of them made their way through into the sitting room. Jo had spent days decorating the freshly cut Norwegian Spruce Christmas tree and trailing pretty lights and baubles around the large marble fireplace and along the picture rail, but no one seemed to notice or made any comment. With the fire lit and roaring, the room was cosy to the point of being too warm and Jo wondered if Bella might actually take her coat off at last, but instead, she pulled it around her tightly, wincing with an exaggerated grimace as she sat down gingerly on the plump grey sofa.

Ben’s forehead creased with concern. ‘Are you OK, darling?’

Bella threw him a brave smile. ‘Yes, I’m sure I’ll be fine.’

Jo took a couple of deep breaths, trying to dampen down the irritation that was still quivering through her chest. She wondered why she was the only one who could see that Bella’s behaviour was simply attention-seeking, rather than due to any kind of genuine discomfort.

‘What time is Emma getting here?’ Ben addressed the question to Peter.

Peter looked at his watch. ‘Any time now, I should imagine. I told her she should have hitched a lift with you two. Seems a bit crazy to bring two cars to do the same journey, especially as the roads are so icy.’

A look passed between Bella and Ben and Jo knew, without them saying so, that Emma would not have been offered a lift. She thought back to last Christmas, which suddenly seemed like a lifetime ago, and how much things had changed since then.

Emma and Ben had always been so close. Even when Ben was with Charlotte, his relationship with his older sister had remained strong. But since meeting Bella, there seemed to be a distance between them. Emma was as perplexed as Jo and the two of them had spent many hours discussing whether she might have done something to upset him.

Jo had never voiced it, but she knew instinctively that it was Bella who had a problem with Emma and that Ben was just going along with it for an easy life. She looked at Bella now, so beautiful and so charming when she chose to be. So cold and brittle when she didn’t. She wished she could shake off the heavy feeling of anxiety that had dogged her ever since they announced that she was pregnant and they were getting married.

Looking back, it was then that Ben had started to change towards them. Well, that wasn’t quite right. He had started to change towards Jo and Emma. He had become more distant and a little more formal. He seemed fine with Peter, which was ironic, considering it was Peter who had voiced his reservations about Bella and the speed of their relationship in the first place. But he had also changed in himself. He was becoming quieter and less confident, as if he was slowly but surely having the stuffing pulled out of him.

As if she sensed her watching, Bella suddenly turned her gaze towards Jo. Jo quickly rearranged her features into a smile but Bella’s large brown eyes narrowed and there was a glint of something that Jo couldn’t read, except that she knew it wasn’t pleasant.

She sighed and stood up, fed up with being excluded from the conversation.

No one seemed to notice as she left the room. Walking back into the kitchen, she caught sight of the pan of mulled wine gently bubbling on the Aga. Feeling a sudden spike of annoyance, she picked it up and tipped it down the sink. She watched the dark red, gloopy liquid congeal around the plughole, with its crimson tendrils clinging to the stark white walls of the sink like blood. She turned on the tap and swished water over the incriminating evidence until it was all gone.

She stared at the empty pan guiltily. But, she reassured herself, it was about time someone told Peter the truth about what they all thought of his horrible yearly concoction. She wished Emma would get here. She needed an ally, someone to tell her whether she was imagining Bella’s offhand behaviour.

As if on cue, her mobile rang. She snatched it up as she saw Emma’s name flashing on the screen. ‘Hi, darling, where are you?’

‘Mum!’ Emma sobbed. ‘I’ve had an accident. I hit a patch of ice on a bend and I’ve spun off the road.’ Her voice was audibly shaking.

‘Oh my God! Are you OK? Are you hurt?’ Jo’s legs suddenly felt weak.

‘Bit of a bump on the head. And my neck is killing me. But I think I’m OK.’ Jo could hear her holding the phone away from her body as she examined herself.

Jo swallowed down the tide of panic that was rising up inside her and tried to keep her voice steady and calm. ‘Right. Daddy and I are coming to get you. Where are you?’

Emma began to cry, causing Jo’s heart to constrict. Emma rarely cried. She was so composed and she always seemed to be in control of her emotions. Hearing her lose it completely told Jo that they needed to get to her as quickly as possible. ‘I’m at the corner of Bramble Lane and Mill Road, near the pub,’ Emma managed, through giant, gulping sobs.

‘We’ll be with you in ten minutes. Just stay where you are.’

Jo dashed into the sitting room, where Peter, Ben and Bella were still chatting, seemingly unaware of her absence. They all looked up at her in surprise as she entered. ‘Emma’s had an accident. We need to go and get her.’

Peter and Ben both leaped out of their seats. ‘Shit! Is she OK?’ Ben’s face creased with concern and Jo could see that he was genuinely worried for his sister. It gave her a small crumb of comfort to see a glimpse of the old Ben.

‘She’s very shaken and upset and I think she’s bumped her head but she was talking coherently, so hopefully she’s fine. Come on, Peter, we need to hurry.’ She gestured towards the door expectantly.

Peter nodded quickly and strode past her, already scooping his car keys from the glass bowl on the console table in the hallway.

‘I’ll come!’ Ben followed Peter towards the door.

‘No, Ben!’ Bella shouted suddenly, causing all of them to stop in their tracks. ‘You can’t go.’

Ben scowled irritably. ‘What? I need to go with them in case Dad and I have to pull the car out of a ditch or something.’

Bella’s face darkened. ‘You can’t leave me here on my own!’

Jo felt a sudden urge to slap her daughter-in-law’s pretty face. ‘Come. Don’t come,’ she snapped at Ben. ‘But make your bloody mind up because we need to get to Emma.’

Ben hesitated and Jo could see the dilemma he faced. If he came with them, Bella would be furious with him. If he didn’t come, he would be furious with himself. ‘Sorry,’ he said to Bella, seemingly having made up his mind. ‘I’ll only be a few minutes. You’ll be fine.’

There was a short, awkward pause, before the three of them raced out of the door, leaving Bella looking so angry that Jo imagined she could almost see the steam coming out of her ears.

As they rounded the corner of the road where Emma had told them she was, Jo gasped, clamping her hand over her mouth. Emma was sitting on the still-frosty grass verge with her head in her hands. Even at a distance, Jo could see that she was very distressed. Her mint green Fiat 500 was neatly nestled up against a tree, almost as if it was giving it a hug. Flimsy plumes of smoke rose lazily from beneath the bonnet. Peter pulled the car over and they all leaped out. Jo knelt down and put an arm around Emma’s shaking shoulders. ‘It’s OK, sweetheart, we’re here now. You’re going to be fine.’

Emma let out a sound that was a cross between a groan and a sob and nodded. Ben moved round behind her and put his hands under her armpits, before lifting her gently to her feet. She took a deep breath to steady herself and gave him a watery smile. ‘Cheers, Ben.’

Ben smiled back, his face still full of concern. ‘No worries. That’s quite an impressive bump on your head.’

Jo followed his gaze. A huge egg-shaped lump was forming on Emma’s forehead. It reminded her of the time when she was three and she had fallen down the stone steps in the garden, resulting in a similar-shaped bump.

‘Come on, piglet, let’s get you home.’ Peter pulled Emma into his arms and steered her towards the Range Rover, where he carefully helped her into the back seat.

Jo could see that Emma was violently shaking and climbed in beside her, wrapping one arm around her and taking her hand in the other.

‘I’ll drive Em’s car home,’ Ben said, heading towards the Fiat.

‘Is it OK to drive?’ Jo looked dubiously at the little car, which was looking very sorry for itself. ‘I don’t want you having an accident, too.’

‘I think it’ll be fine. Let’s just get it home and we can get someone to take a look later.’ Peter was already starting up the Range Rover and putting it into gear.

A few minutes later, they arrived home and helped a still-trembling Emma out of the car and into the house. Peter steered her towards the kitchen and settled her on a chair at the huge granite island in the middle of the room. ‘I know what you need – a glass of mulled wine.’ He turned expectantly towards the hob and stopped in puzzlement. ‘What’s happened to the mulled wine?’

Jo could feel her cheeks reddening. ‘I tipped it away.’

‘What did you do that for?’ Peter frowned and looked at Jo in astonishment.

‘Because … oh, because it was horrible!’ Jo waved her hand dismissively. ‘And I think Emma needs something a bit stronger than a non-alcoholic mulled wine anyway. Go and get her some whisky!’ She knew she was blustering because she was embarrassed. She had tipped the mulled wine away in a fit of pique because Peter had prepared it especially for Bella.

Peter tutted and continued to frown but, after a moment’s hesitation, he found the whisky and poured Emma a generous slug.

‘Thanks.’ Emma picked up the glass and drained it.

‘Would you like to go and have a lie-down?’ Peter had poured himself a whisky and raised his eyebrows questioningly at Jo, who nodded, suddenly desperate for a drink.

‘No.’ Emma held out her glass. ‘But I’ll have a refill.’

Ben joined them in the kitchen looking sheepish. ‘Um, Bella’s not feeling too good. I’m sorry but I think we’d better go home.’

Jo’s shoulders sagged with disappointment. ‘What? But what about lunch, your presents … you were supposed to be staying the night?’

Ben’s eyes slid away from Jo’s, as he glanced towards the door nervously. ‘I’m sorry, Mum.’

Jo watched him go, feeling weak with disappointment, as well as the shock of Emma’s accident catching up with her. She looked at Peter beseechingly. ‘Peter, can’t you speak to her? See if you can persuade her to stay? She seems to like you more than me …’ Her words hung in the air between them.

Peter hesitated, looking uncomfortable. ‘I’d rather not. I’m not sure it’ll do much good anyway and if she’s genuinely not feeling well …’

‘Please, Peter. It’ll spoil everything if they leave and I can tell Ben doesn’t want to. It’s her. She can’t bear the attention wandering from her for a second. She’s such a little bloody madam! Honestly, Emma, you should have seen her earlier, refusing to even take her coat off!’

As she finished speaking, she became aware that both Peter and Emma were looking over her shoulder with horrified expressions and she sensed, rather than heard, that both Ben and Bella were standing in the doorway. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes momentarily to steady herself, before spinning around to face them. Ben was staring at her in shock but Bella looked triumphant, a tiny smirk on her lips. ‘Wow, thanks for that, Jo. It’s a good job we’re leaving – I certainly know where I’m not wanted.’

‘Bella, I …’ Jo fumbled for words as she reached out to take Bella’s arm.

Bella shook her off roughly. ‘Let go of me! Come on, Ben. We’re going.’

Ben looked like he might cry. ‘I’m really sorry but we have to go. Em, I hope you’re OK?’

Emma nodded and raised her glass. ‘Thanks, I’ll be fine,’ she slurred. ‘Happy Christmas.’

Ben hesitated and for a moment, Jo thought he might hug her but another yell from Bella sent him scurrying after her.

Jo slumped down beside Emma at the island and burst into tears. She had had such a lovely day planned and now it was all ruined. But as she drained her glass of whisky, she somehow knew that it was more than just Christmas Day that was ruined.