Читать книгу Winter at West Sands Guest House: A debut feel-good heart-warming romance perfect for 2018 - Maggie Conway - Страница 10

Chapter Three

Eva pulled into the driveway of her mother’s house and took a deep breath. She turned to Jamie. ‘Here we are then,’ she said overbrightly. Jamie pulled off his headphones.

‘We’re not gonna be long are we, Mum?’

Making the hour-long journey to the leafy Edinburgh suburb to visit her mother wasn’t exactly Eva’s favourite way to spend a Sunday either but family was family. Her son had already missed out enough losing his father at a young age and Eva was determined he would grow up knowing his grandmother, even if she wasn’t exactly fairy-tale material. As for Paul’s parents, they grand-parented Jamie the way they had parented their only child. From a great distance and with ridiculous amounts of money being sent at birthdays and Christmas.

‘No, we won’t be too long. Give Hamish a run around the garden and then bring him back into the car and remember to leave a window open.’

‘Why can’t he just come in?’

‘You know Gran won’t have dogs in her house.’

‘Come on, Hamish,’ Jamie sighed before slouching out of the car door.

Eva pulled a mirror from her bag and quickly checked her reflection. She’d woken early this morning even by her standards, and hadn’t been able to get back to sleep, all kinds of strange thoughts whirring through her mind. She went over and over it but couldn’t find the thing that seemed to be making her so unsettled. Now her face reflected every minute she had spent pummelling her pillow and tossing and turning. Rummaging in her bag, she found some cream that promised instant radiance, slapped some on her cheeks, and climbed out of the car.

The front door opened and her mother appeared, immaculate as ever. A tailored shift dress with a cashmere cardigan draped over her slim shoulders, Helen Devine was elegant as always. Her blonde hair sat in a neat bob, testament to her weekly visits to the hairdresser’s. Eva walked over and leaned in to her mother for a brittle sort of hug, just as Jamie disappeared around the side of the house with Hamish.

‘Hello, Mum. How are you?’

‘Hello, darling. Come and see my new kitchen!’ She clapped her hands together sounding positively giddy as Eva followed her in. As always, the house was neat and orderly. Anything left lying for more than a minute was either dusted or taken away. Dishes, towels, curtains were all coordinated and a crystal cut vase filled with roses always sat on the hall table.

In the kitchen Helen shared the delights of her new Arlington Cream kitchen. Eva trailed after her making appreciative noises as she was shown the joys of the panelled doors, glazed units, and integrated appliances. ‘It creates such a beautiful streamline effect, don’t you think?’ Her mother’s eyes sparkled as she looked around at her new kitchen, letting out a contented sigh. She seemed inordinately pleased with herself. In fact, she was looking very well, thought Eva. Narrowing her eyes, she peered closely at her wondering if she had succumbed to a little makeover of her own. There was a definite glow about her.

‘It’s lovely, Mum,’ Eva said, genuinely happy for her. Appearances and status meant everything to Helen. Brian Devine’s job as a financial manager had provided his wife with a lifestyle she had taken to very easily and his subsequent life insurance policy had ensured she could keep living it.

Eva walked over to the window and looked out to the garden, thinking how much she still missed her father. A massive heart attack had taken his life and thrown his family’s into turmoil. Eva had been working in an insurance office at the time having recently been trusted with the added responsibility of answering the phone as well as doing the filing.

She knew there had to be something more out there, but just hadn’t figured out what. As her mother was fond of pointing out, there weren’t many opportunities for someone who had left school with not much to show for it. Still, the job gave her enough money to go out with her friends at weekends and buy clothes.

She had met Paul, a ski instructor, the year before on holiday in France. He was handsome, charming, and free-spirited. Eva had a major crush on him, as did most of the girls. She could hardly believe it when he showed interest in her and had been happily swept away by their brief holiday romance. Afterwards, they had kept in touch with the odd phone call or Facebook message.

It had been his idea for Eva to join him in France after her father’s death and it hadn’t taken much to persuade her. It didn’t obviate her pain but it was certainly an effective distraction. Sharing a cramped flat and waitressing long exhausting hours, Eva loved every minute. She relished the freedom and for the first time in her life felt she was having an adventure.

Of course getting pregnant wasn’t supposed to be part of the adventure. Suddenly the carefree life she’d been enjoying came crashing down around her – the heady excitement and freedom that had drawn them together becoming something much more real and serious. Paul surprised her by insisting they marry before the baby was born. Marriage was a practical solution to the unplanned turn of events but Eva didn’t know if that was enough to base a marriage on. However, she brushed aside her fears knowing it was the right thing to do and it certainly helped to take away some of the terror of being pregnant and having to face her mother.

Her poor mother had barely recovered from Eva going off with Paul in the first place but then had to contend with her youngest daughter returning home three months pregnant to marry in a registry office. Eva nervously clutched her small bouquet of creamy white roses during the short ceremony and afterwards their small party had made their way to a rooftop restaurant where they sat with bowls of steaming mussels overlooking Edinburgh Castle. Eva told herself it was romantic but didn’t think her mother would agree judging by her strained expression.

They moved to the highlands where Paul got a job in the Cairngorms ski resort and lived there until the accident. She hadn’t expected things to happen the way they did, but Eva never regretted for a single moment having Jamie in her life.

Staring out of the window Eva could now see him now running around on the neatly clipped lawn with Hamish. The loss of her father and husband had been bad enough but it was Jamie never knowing his grandfather and losing his father that hurt the most. Eva supposed focusing on Jamie had helped her cope with her own grief for Paul and enabled her to move on with her life. Her grief for her father had been harder to deal with – he had been the person she’d looked up to her whole life. He had always been there for her and his absence from her life was still painful. Eva knew if her kind and loving father was still here things would be different somehow and these visits would certainly be easier to deal with.

She closed her eyes and imagined him outside now playing with Jamie. He’d be older obviously, probably retired. His hair would be silver grey but his blue eyes would still be bright and crinkly when he smiled. She could almost hear him laughing as Jamie kicked the ball to him.

Eva inhaled deeply and opened her eyes, surprised to feel tears. She blinked them away just in time to see Hamish happily trampling through a flowerbed and Jamie chasing after him. Eva grimaced, not sure if a crazy dog constituted a suitable male role model for her son. She turned quickly from the window, and pointed to the wall opposite hoping her mother wouldn’t notice the damage being inflicted on her garden by Hamish. ‘So what are you going to do with this wall?’ she asked, moving from the window. Helen looked up from the plate of cocktail-size sausage rolls she was arranging.

‘Oh, I need to choose tiles. I’m thinking green or red, something to add a splash of colour.’ She smiled, gliding and swooping between her new work surfaces like a graceful ballerina.

‘You know, Mum, I could do the tiling for you,’ Eva said running her hand over the bare wall.

‘Don’t be silly, darling. I’ve got a man coming next week to do it,’ Helen replied briskly. Not for the first time Eva wondered if her own determination to master house maintenance skills was a rebound from her mother’s inability to change a light bulb without calling in a man. Helen had resumed her preparations for Sunday lunch and turned her attention to making tea.

‘What can I do to help?’ asked Eva.

‘Could you find a plate for these please?’ her mother replied nodding towards a tray of freshly baked shortbread fingers sitting on the worktop. Eva started opening the cupboard doors, discovering things had been moved around.

‘And how is … business?’ she heard Helen ask. Hearing the disdain in her mother’s voice never failed to amaze Eva, as if her daughter choosing to run a guest house offended her sensibilities in some way. She had long given up on the hope that her mother might show any real interest or pride in what Eva had achieved. There was no point in telling her that she had just finished her best season ever, that she already had repeat bookings for next year.

‘Business is fine,’ she said simply. Finally locating a serving plate Eva arranged the biscuits while Helen spooned tea leaves into a china teapot.

‘It’s such an odd way to make a living though. Having strangers in your house.’

‘Mum, it’s St Andrews. They’re all respectable paying guests, not exactly strangers.’ They’d had this conversation, or one similar to it, several times over the past few years but that didn’t make it any less painful.

‘But all those people traipsing about your home treating you like some sort of glorified maid,’ she continued, giving a little shudder to emphasize her point.

Eva would never deny it was hard work. Guests coming and going, the constant cleaning, laundry and cooking breakfasts. It involved a lot of planning, time, and energy. But living in a big house in a beautiful part of Scotland, running a business that let her be with her son, Eva knew she had much to be thankful for.

Her mother poured milk into a pretty china jug and sighed. ‘I just thought you’d have had enough of it by now.’ Eva managed to suppress a sigh of her own, thinking nothing had changed since she had moved to St Andrews after Paul had died.

‘Will Sarah be coming today?’ Eva asked, desperate to change the subject even if it was to Sarah.

‘Oh, she’ll be here in a minute.’ Helen waved her hand vaguely in the air. ‘She had to take a call for work.’

‘On a Sunday?’

‘She’s in the middle of an important case. I don’t suppose she can switch off just because it’s the weekend.’

Sarah was Eva’s shiny, perfect older sister. After graduating with a law degree, she had moved to Aberdeen to complete her training in the legal department of an oil company. When their father had died, she moved back to Edinburgh, bought a house practically next door to their mother’s, and took a job working for a firm of commercial lawyers. She was always involved in some big case. It wouldn’t surprise her if Sarah didn’t show up today, just like the last two times Eva and Jamie had visited.

With the tea tray now complete, Helen carried it over to Eva and after a brief inspection of the shortbread biscuits, graced her daughter with a fleeting smile.

‘Take this through please, darling,’ she said handing over the tray. Eva did as she was told and headed through to the formal dining room where Helen insisted on serving lunch. Heavy cream and gold curtains framed the French doors, which looked out onto the garden, and a rich brocade tablecloth hung over the polished dark wood table where Eva now placed the tray.

‘Hello, Eva.’

Eva turned to the sound of her sister’s voice. Wearing a crisp white shirt and smart grey trousers and clutching her iPhone, Sarah Devine looked as if she had taken the wrong turning for a business meeting. Beside her, Eva always managed to feel slightly shabby – like the poor relation who had rolled up in skinny jeans and a baggy jumper.

‘Hi, Sarah, how are you?’ Eva smiled, hesitating for a moment before going over for an awkward embrace.

‘Fine. And you?’

‘Oh you know, the usual,’ she replied overbrightly. ‘Jamie should be in any minute. He’s out in the garden.’

‘I’ve seen him. He introduced me to your new dog.’

‘You met Hamish? He’s pretty cute, don’t you think?’

Sarah looked at her and raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you think getting a dog was a good idea?’

Eva felt a pain start to throb in her head. No, it probably wasn’t a good idea, she wanted to scream. But she had done it anyway, for Jamie. Eva wondered if her sister ever made an emotional decision or whether everything in her life was calculated on a spreadsheet.

Eva smiled tightly. ‘Well, Jamie loves him and its fun having a dog around the house.’ Helen suddenly bustled in, carrying more plates, followed by Jamie.

‘Mum! Look what Aunt Sarah got me!’ His face a picture of unadulterated joy, he waved an Xbox game in the air: the exact one Eva had planned on giving him as a special Christmas present. Eva swallowed down a burst of anger at her sister. Sarah hadn’t seen her nephew in months – she probably didn’t even know he had started high school, but in typical style had bought him an expensive present. Couldn’t she just spend some time with him, take him to the cinema or something?

‘That was very generous of her,’ Eva said pointedly.

‘It was nothing.’ Sarah waved her hand casually. Eva took a deep breath and asked Jamie if Hamish was now in the car.

‘Yup. And I washed my hands,’ he replied.

Now they were all seated at the table, Helen beamed at everyone. ‘Isn’t this nice? Tuck in, everyone!’

Jamie’s eyes hungrily scanned the table and Eva saw his face fall. Plates filled with dainty finger food – quartered sandwiches, scones, and biscuits. Neat tidy food, thought Eva, designed not to leave crumbs. Not like the big spilling-over-the-edge pots of food she made at home. Eva watched her mother’s precise delicate movements as she nibbled a sandwich and then glanced over at Sarah who was sipping her tea, barely touching the food.

Eva could swear her mother and sister looked more alike every time she saw them, almost as if they were morphing into the same person, with their neat ice-blonde hair and slender frames. Eva’s wavy darker hair and curvier figure only made her feel more of an outsider than she already did. Only the distinctive green eyes they all shared gave any indication the three women were related. Lost in thought, Eva realized her mother was talking to her.

‘You remember Gail Worthington from my book club?’ Eva didn’t but nodded anyway. ‘Her daughter Sarah is getting married next year. She’s almost forty you know, just goes to show you – it’s never too late!’

‘That’s nice,’ Eva replied blandly, presuming the implication being that at thirty-four she still had loads of time to ‘find someone’.

‘But of course I don’t suppose you’re likely to meet anyone nice in your line of work are you, darling?’ Helen asked doubtfully.

‘I meet lots of nice people. I had a professional golfer stay this summer – he took Jamie for a round of golf.’

‘A professional golfer?’ Helen’s face lit up with interest.

‘Yes, he was lovely. And so was his wife.’ Eva suddenly felt mean, but it always vexed her that her mother seemed intent Eva had to be married off yet somehow it was okay for Sarah to be single, presumably because she had a high-flying career. Of course she felt lonely at times and wished she had someone to share things with. But she also knew if a man ever were to become part of her life again he would have to be so special that he probably didn’t exist.

Eva would never admit that to her mother though. No single man in a hundred-mile radius would be safe. Eva almost laughed out loud imagining her mother’s reaction if she knew about the handsome physicist now living next door to her.

‘And how is the big school, Jamie?’

‘S’okay.’ He shrugged.

‘What’s your favourite subject?’

‘PE,’ Jamie replied brightly.

‘Mmmm.’ Helen smiled demurely before continuing. ‘But you need to work hard at all your subjects, you know. Have you thought yet about what you want to do when you leave school? Things are so competitive these days.’ She gave a knowledgeable nod as Jamie looked over to Eva, unsure how to respond.

Eva almost choked on her tea, hardly believing she was hearing the same words that were recited to her over and over when she was in high school.

‘I think first year is more about finding his feet and settling in rather than making any career plans,’ Eva said through gritted teeth before glancing over at Jamie and giving him a reassuring smile. Of course she wanted him to do well in school but she would never make him feel that was the measure of a successful or happy life.

A silence hung over the table, the only sound Jamie munching his way through most of the food. Eva reached for a scone and spread a thick layer of butter and jam on it before taking a huge bite.

She glanced over at Sarah whose eyes kept flitting to the screen on her precious phone. Eva felt like shouting at her not to be so rude. She wouldn’t tolerate Jamie having any electronic gadgets at the table. Eva didn’t see why she should be allowed to exclude herself from the conversation and decided it was time she joined in.

‘So, Mum says you’re working on a big case just now?’

Sarah looked up from her iPhone. ‘That’s right.’

‘So what’s it about?’

‘It’s complicated.’ She exhaled. ‘Basically a private equity group is suing a law firm for negligence. The case is worth about ten million.’

Eva bristled at her condescending tone. Okay, so her job was important but did she have to act so superior about it?

‘Sounds fascinating,’ Eva said dryly. Sarah ignored her and smiled at Helen instead.

‘Oh, Mum, I changed a few things about in my diary so I’ll be able to take you to the chiropodist on Wednesday.’

‘This Wednesday?’ Eva jumped in. ‘I could take you, Mum. What time is it at?’

Helen shook her head. ‘No it’s fine. Sarah’s taken me before so she knows where to go.’

Eva bit her lip thinking nothing had changed. Ever since they were little girls Sarah had always sought their mother’s approval. Eva had always been closer to her father, preferring to stay with him pottering in the garden or helping him do little jobs while Helen and Sarah favoured shopping.

With most of the food finished thanks to Jamie and Eva, Helen turned her attention to Jamie again.

‘Now, Jamie, come and spend some time with me before your mum whisks you away again.’ The remark wasn’t lost on Eva, managing to make it sound as if she never saw him even though she visited as often as possible and was constantly inviting her to visit.

Jamie dutifully followed Helen out of the room, throwing Eva an accusing look as he went. She ruffled his hair as he passed and started to collect plates from the table, glancing over to see Sarah’s manicured fingers tapping furiously away. Eva assumed it was business but then what did she know? Maybe she was arranging a romantic rendezvous with a secret lover. She knew so little about her sister’s life these days.

How and when it had got to this stage she didn’t know. Their personalities had always been different but once they had been close. Eva remembered the two giggling girls hiding behind the curtains waiting for their dad to come home. Or the teenagers sitting up late into the night discussing what boys they fancied at school. Everything changed after their dad’s heart attack. Instead of bringing them closer, it had seemed to tear them apart.

Sarah showed no signs of helping to clear the table and Eva felt a rush of anger.

‘Surely it can wait, whatever it is?’ she snapped. Sarah jumped slightly and looked up. Eva could see slight shadows beneath her sister’s expensive make-up and immediately felt guilty.

‘Is everything all right?’ she asked her.

‘Yes, why shouldn’t it be?’

‘No reason. I just thought you looked tired.’

‘Well that’s what happens when you work a fifty-hour week,’ Sarah replied sarcastically. Eva took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm. Eva knew very well what it was like, but of course Sarah would never acknowledge that.

‘Maybe you could take a break after this case,’ Eva suggested.

‘Maybe,’ she sniffed. ‘It will depend on my work schedule and I can’t just leave Mum.’

‘Why not?’ Eva asked surprised.

‘She’s not getting any younger you know.’

‘She looks fine to me. More than fine, in fact. Is there a problem I don’t know about?’

‘No,’ Sarah replied defensively. ‘She just needs to know I’m here, that’s all. I can’t just take off.’

‘But I’m here for her too! I’m only an hour away and she could come and stay with me if she wanted.’ Eva had lost count of the times she had invited her mother to come to St Andrews. She glared at Sarah and then shook her head in despair. Balancing a pile of plates in her arms she carried them through to the kitchen, not trusting herself to speak.

She plonked the dishes down and began to stack the dishwasher. She took a few calming breaths, suddenly overwhelmed with sadness. She couldn’t bear the thought of her and Sarah spending the next few years fighting like this every time they met until eventually they wouldn’t bother to see each other at all. Maybe if they could see each other in different circumstances and relax, they would have a chance to fix whatever it was that was broken between them.

She thought of Jamie’s trip in a couple of weeks. Deep down she knew she’d have to agree to let him go. Until she actually told him though, she felt she still had some control. Once he knew he was going there would be no turning back. She couldn’t even imagine what she would do with herself that weekend. Before she could change her mind, she went back to the dining room.

‘I was thinking, Sarah – Jamie’s got a trip coming up at the end of November – one of those activity weekends for kids. There’s rock climbing, abseiling … that type of thing. I’m a bit nervous about it to be honest, the thought of him doing all those things.’ Eva forced a little laugh, not feeling natural to be confiding in her sister.

‘Anyway, why don’t you come up to St Andrews that weekend? There are some great restaurants. We could go for a few walks, maybe open a few bottles of wine. I think there’s even a winter market on that weekend.’

Sarah looked at her blankly. ‘Sorry, what? Oh no, I’ll be busy that weekend.’

‘But I didn’t even say which – you know, it doesn’t matter.’ Eva felt her shoulders slump, suddenly deflated. She gathered the linen napkins from the table, absently admiring the orchid design on them.

‘I’d better go and find Jamie and Mum,’ she muttered, not waiting to hear if Sarah replied. In the gleaming new kitchen Eva stood helplessly for a moment. She wished she didn’t have to leave feeling this way. She told herself she’d be home soon, home to her sanctuary. But even that didn’t feel the same any more without the MacKenzies being there. A sudden image of Ben Matthews came into her head and she found herself wondering how he was spending his Sunday.

***

Ben had woken late on Sunday, surprised he had slept for so long. In the kitchen he looked out of the window at the inky grey sky and wondered if it rained here every day. Realizing he was hungry he took eggs from the fridge, deciding to make an omelette. After he had eaten maybe he would go for a walk, explore the town some more. He could buy a paper and come back and read it at leisure.

It still felt odd having Sundays free. Every Sunday for the past five years he had visited his mother at Cartvale care home. He tried but usually failed to fit in a midweek visit too if work allowed. But he would always spend the whole Sunday with her no matter what. If she was having a good day, they’d walk in the local park or perhaps even have lunch somewhere.

In some ways, Ben had started to grieve for his mother years before she actually died. The strong woman who had brought him up alone after his father had died started to disappear long before her diagnosis of early onset Alzheimer’s. Yet even now at odd moments like this, the grief and guilt could creep up on him, its severity taking him by surprise. He took a deep breath, sloshing hot water over the coffee granules in a mug, determined not to go there.

In the dining room – now Ben’s makeshift office – he cleared a space on the table for his plate and ate hungrily. He flicked through a few of the papers and books in front of him, his mound of reading to catch up on. His meeting at the university had gone well on Friday. Meeting up with Professor Drummond had felt like reclaiming something valuable from his old life.

A slightly eccentric Scot, he had guided Ben through his PhD at Oxford University with patience, wisdom, and more than the odd dram of whisky. Ben had respected him so much and always felt he had let him down in some way, turning his back on research and going to work as an analyst in the city.

But the Professor had never passed judgement and had understood Ben’s need to earn the type of money you couldn’t earn in academia. Ben hadn’t been surprised when he discovered his old Professor was now at St Andrews, the oldest university in Scotland. An image of him came to Ben’s mind, sitting by a roaring fire with a tumbler in hand. But Ben knew his Professor’s easy charm was matched by his ferocious intelligence. He was still at the forefront of research into gravitational waves. Ben had read his recently published paper, and knew he wanted to be part of it again.

He had responded to Ben’s email with all the enthusiasm Ben remembered. They both knew it wasn’t an obvious or easy option to return to academia from the world of finance but in typical style Professor Drummond had seen it as a positive, not a negative. ‘Be good to get some fresh blood into the place, a new perspective. Things can get a bit stuffy in academia.’

After several exchanged emails, Ben had a formal interview via Skype with the Professor and two of his colleagues in the department. He had been questioned in detail about his plans for research – and more importantly, what funding he would obtain. He had listed the grants he could apply for, what journals he would publish in. Ben had studied the curriculum and courses on offer for students and expressed his willingness to be flexible, happy to fit in with the department’s teaching requirements but also had some ideas of his own about teaching.