Читать книгу A Summer to Remember - Sue Moorcroft - Страница 10

On Monday morning Clancy awoke in an unfamiliar bed in the only-slightly familiar room and the memory of why she was there crashed in on her.

Will.

Renée.

Will with Renée. The images of them together flashed before her eyes.

Stop it! she told herself sternly. She was in a new bed in her new room. She had a new life in a tiny jewel of a village high up above the sea. A wedge of sunlight sliced through the dormer window onto the floor, as if tempting her to get up and warm her feet on the wooden boards. Once that was accomplished, getting on with the day became easier.

First job when she got downstairs: sit down and write a shopping list.

Bedclothes

Towels

Curtains (downstairs and loft)

A rap at the front door made her drop her pen and jump up to answer, expecting it to be Aaron, though it was fifteen minutes earlier than they’d arranged. But when she threw the door open it was to find a woman standing there, her curls dancing in the breeze. ‘Hello, Clancy. I thought it best if we cleared the air.’

Clancy stepped back, feeling her cheeks heating up. ‘Oh! Mrs De Silva. Yvonne. Come in.’ The De Silvas must truly still be harbouring ill-feeling towards Alice and her family if air-clearing had to be done.

Yvonne looked strained and pinched. She stepped inside, her gaze roaming around the big echoing space of the ground floor in which the few pieces of furniture now in Clancy’s care were almost lost. She wasted no time getting down to business. ‘Are you absolutely sure about living here?’ Her hair was untidy. Not the tousled look her son carried off so well, but more the bedhead style of someone who hadn’t been able to wait to come and air her concerns.

Clancy had been about to offer her a cup of tea, but Yvonne’s words made her suspect it wasn’t going to be a long visit. ‘Nearly sure,’ she answered, honestly.

‘I see.’ Yvonne gazed at Clancy, her dark eyes tired. ‘I won’t beat about the bush. I’m worried. When Alice left so cruelly Lee was so hurt … I was terrified at the way he crashed, emotionally. I thought he’d end up in either the psychiatric ward or the morgue. It destroys you to see your child that way and know someone else is responsible.’

‘Of course,’ Clancy said softly.

Yvonne sighed and seated herself at the kitchen table. ‘Fergus says I have to remember you aren’t Alice.’ She ran a hand through her hair. ‘But humans want someone to blame when things go wrong.’

Clancy tried to laugh, but, as much for Alice as herself, it tried to turn into a sob in her throat. ‘I’d heard villages were friendly places.’

Embarrassment crept across Yvonne’s face. ‘I’m sorry. You must think I’m a horror. But Lee … I thought he’d made such progress when he came back here to live a few months ago. Then Aaron told us about you turning up, and the look on Lee’s face—’ She had to stop to swallow.

Her own throat aching, Clancy nodded. She’d liked Yvonne before and understood she was only paying this visit because, in her eyes, one of her children was being threatened. For an instant she was tempted to cave in. Say, ‘OK, I’ll find somewhere else. I’ve certainly done it before. I could go out to Namibia where my parents are working on a new school. Or find out where Alice is and see if I can join her …’

But, then, into her mind flashed more of the memories she’d managed to shove away, earlier. That awful afternoon in the conference room. Asila, Monty, Tracey … and Will, looking absolutely wretched, as if, she remembered thinking, she’d been the one to cheat. Monty saying, ‘I appreciate you didn’t like the way we wanted to handle things but we were only thinking of IsVid.’

‘But it’s not fair to let people think it was me—!’

‘It’s not personal,’ Monty had snapped. ‘All our livelihoods are tied up in IsVid.’

But it had felt personal. Her friends … Asila, so petite that it always looked as if her glorious black hair would pull her over, eyes filled with tears. Jon ‘Monty’ Montagu regarding Clancy angrily through his glasses. Tracey, big, cushiony Tracey, troubled but resolute, though it had been in her arms Clancy had wept in pain and humiliation when Will’s infidelity had come to light in such an excruciatingly public way.

Clancy remembered gasping as if plunged into ice water. She, the victim, was being sacrificed for the business.

She’d had little choice but to go – though not before she’d told them a couple of financial truths about what her leaving meant, ending coldly, ‘You don’t think I’m going to just give you my share of the business, do you? A fifth of everything you’re guarding so blindly is mine.’ That had taken them aback, especially Will, judging from his stark expression. She hadn’t been able to withhold a parting shot. ‘Next time you cheat on someone, Will, you need to think where it leaves everyone financially.’ Then she’d stared Monty down. ‘No pat answer for that one?’ But she’d known lots of things were more important than money. Lots. She’d lost Will, her best friends and her work.

And she was not about to be the loser again.

‘I can only tell you what I told Aaron,’ she said to Yvonne, making her voice sympathetic. ‘I need somewhere to be and something to do. I’m sorry Lee was hurt – and I know how he feels – but I didn’t hurt him.’ Clancy manufactured a smile. ‘At least I’ll be doing a great job for your other son’s investment. I’m going to caretake the hell out of Roundhouse Row.’

Yvonne sighed, murmuring enigmatically, ‘You strike me as that kind. Thank you for being frank, at least.’ She rose, and so did Clancy – just as the door-knocker clattered again. Clancy opened up to reveal Aaron on the doorstep.

His brows clanged down when his gaze lit on Yvonne. ‘Mum? I didn’t expect to find you here.’

His mother lifted her chin. ‘I wanted to speak to Clancy.’

‘Really?’ His eyes flicked Clancy’s way and he said to her, ‘Be with you in a minute.’ He began to close the door with himself and his mother on the outside.

‘Just come in when you’re ready,’ Clancy muttered, returning to the kitchen table and her list. She’d added gardening gloves by the time Aaron stepped indoors.

He was still frowning. ‘I had no idea Mum planned to call on you. I hope she didn’t—’ he hesitated ‘—make you uncomfortable.’

She wrote down coffee pod machine and sat back. ‘I hope we came to an understanding.’

‘Right.’ He looked as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that meant and took the chair beside hers. ‘Shall we get straight down to business? You’ve read Evelyn’s notes, you said?’

‘And the information sheet she puts out for guests. I now know that the village was named to celebrate Nelson’s victory at Waterloo, his being born just along the coast at Burnham Thorpe, this headland being a bar, or spit, of land.’

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. ‘“Nelson’s Spit” wouldn’t have sounded as picturesque, would it? There’s also a story that he was conceived here, but how anybody thinks they know that I have no idea.’ He glanced at his watch and moved the subject on to Clancy’s duties and the joys of ‘changeover days’ when one set of guests would leave by 10 a.m. and the next move in after 3 p.m.

After they’d discussed Evelyn’s notes, Aaron sat back. ‘You’ve met Dilys, I hear. Shall we see whether Ernie’s in? He’s feeling left out.’ He hesitated. ‘I ought to warn you that he’s becoming rather … blunt.’

‘Thanks for the heads up.’ Clancy followed Aaron out of the front door to the next-door-but-one house and between clipped hedges to the front door. When he rang the bell it was answered by a rather fierce-looking man with sticking-up grey hair and a pendulous bottom lip.

‘I’m Ernie Romain,’ he said, sticking out a hand to shake Clancy’s. ‘You’re our new Evelyn.’

‘Clancy Moss,’ she said. ‘I’m doing the job Evelyn used to do, yes.’ Then, thinking that she ought to demonstrate her willingness to be approached, added, ‘Just let me know if you have any issues with the cottage.’

‘Come in,’ he said, as if she hadn’t spoken. He turned on his heel and disappeared into the house.

Aaron sighed but when Clancy stepped through the green front door into a tiny hall with stripy wallpaper, he followed. In the kitchen they found Ernie, who obviously had an impressive turn of speed despite his age, already switching on a kettle, an open jar of Maxwell House standing beside three mugs. The kitchen was the same size and shape as Dilys’s but clean and bare.

‘Only a quick one for me.’ Aaron took a seat at the table. ‘I’m supposed to be terracing a garden in Titchwell.’

‘She’s better-looking than Evelyn,’ Ernie answered, evidently in a different conversation in his head.

Clancy caught an apologetic glance from Aaron and found herself grinning. ‘Have you lived here long, Ernie?’ she asked, in an effort to turn to safer topics before he enlarged on his opinion of hers or Evelyn’s looks.

The kettle boiled and Ernie poured the water into the mugs, stirring vigorously. ‘Since I lost my wife. Soon be ten years she’s been gone and still a pain in the arse.’ He stuck a sugar jar and a carton of milk on the table too.

Clancy might have been thrown by this if Dilys hadn’t already explained their novel living arrangements.

‘She said you’re Alice’s cousin,’ he added suddenly, peering at Clancy. ‘Where’s Alice got to? She was a gal, she was.’ Ernie snorted a laugh. ‘Always up to something. Always got some plan afoot. Pretty little dot. She and me got on like a house on fire.’

‘Good! I’ve always got on with her, too.’ Clancy was glad someone had something positive to say about Alice.

‘You look a bit like her. But she was a cow, pissing off like that,’ Ernie added, his fond tone belying the caustic nature of his words. He fell to drinking his coffee meditatively.

Oh dear, the positivity hadn’t lasted long. ‘Er, well, I’m looking forward to exploring the village soon. For one reason or another I’ve been stuck in the Roundhouse pretty much since I got here. Evelyn left maps she gave the guests—’

‘Maps?’ Ernie bellowed a laugh, his eyebrows beetling incredulously. ‘If you need a map to find your way round Nelson’s Bar you must be brainless.’

Aaron cleared his throat and, finding the elderly man’s bluntness uncomfortable judging by his pained expression, managed to keep him talking about Roundhouse Row until they’d finished their coffee and could leave.

‘Sorry about Ernie,’ Aaron apologised as soon as they were out of earshot in the lane. ‘He just turns his thoughts to words, no matter how inappropriate or blunt.’

Clancy shrugged. ‘I’m sure we’ll get used to each other.’ Then, as Aaron took out the keys to his truck, she recalled something that had bothered her last night. ‘By the way, I’m sorry if I somehow said the wrong thing to you and Genevieve yesterday. The atmosphere got a bit …’ She let the sentence tail away rather than say ‘weird’.

He scuffed a booted toe in the dust of the lane. ‘It was kind of you to share your knowledge. Gen’s been knocked off balance by what’s happening to her home.’

When he said no more, Clancy ventured, ‘She seems nice.’

‘She is,’ he acknowledged, but he sounded rueful. His brown eyes looked very dark in the sunshine; almost black.

Clancy backed away a step. ‘OK. Good. Well, thanks for clueing me in about my new job.’

He took a couple of steps in the other direction, towards his truck. ‘If you have any questions, just call me on my landline or mobile – I can normally get a signal if I’m out of the village. Or you can leave a message.’

‘Sure.’ With a final smile goodbye, Clancy slipped indoors through the porch, wondering whether she was just being ultra-sensitive … or whether she’d read something in Aaron’s awkward manner that did not bode well for Genevieve.