Coming Home

Already she had plans to plant a new grove of trees on her rented land. She knew that her views, her beliefs, often exasperated Ellen who, as a biologist, took a somewhat different view of things, whereas Abigail, an accountant, tended to view everything in terms of profit and loss.

It often amazed her that she had produced two such practical daughters—or was it that the hand-to-mouth peripatetic existence they had all had to live when the girls were young had made them overly cautious?

As she got up to fill the kettle and make herself a cup of coffee, the black cat, who had appeared from out of nowhere the first week she moved in and adopted her, strolled through the door.

None of Honor’s enquiries had brought forward an owner for the cat, who had now fine-tuned her timetable to such a precise degree that Honor knew without having to look at the kitchen clock that it must be three o’clock.

The cat, she assumed, must have found its way to the house along the old bridle-way that passed in front of it, leading from Haslewich to Chester across her cousin’s land.

She frowned as she glanced towards the kitchen door. Like the rest of the house, it was very much in need of repair if not replacement. She was going to have to renew her efforts in finding someone to work on the place soon.

The two large building firms she contacted had given her what she considered to be extortionate quotes and the three small ‘one-man’ businesses she tried had all turned her down with a variety of excuses.

Thoroughly exasperated when the third man who had been recommended to her claimed to be ‘too busy’, she challenged him, ‘Don’t tell me that people around here still actually believe those idiotic stories about the place being haunted?’

The man had flushed but stood his ground. ‘They ain’t just stories,’ he had told her grimly. ‘Uncle of mine broke his leg working here. Aye, and had to have it cut off—infection set in.’

‘An accident,’ Honor had responded. ‘They do happen.’

‘Aye, they do, and this house has had more than its fair share of them,’ he had answered bluntly.

‘I can’t believe that people are actually refusing to work on the house because of some silly story of its being haunted,’ Honor had complained to her cousin a few days later when he invited her up to Fitzburgh Place to have dinner. ‘I mean … it’s just so … so … ridiculous.’

‘Not as far as the Cooke family are concerned,’ he had retorted. ‘They’re closely related to the gypsy tribe the girl was supposed to have come from, and in a small town such things aren’t easily forgotten.’

‘Oh, I’m not saying that there wasn’t an affair nor that it didn’t end tragically. It’s just this silly idea of the house being haunted.’

‘Mmm … well, the Cookes are a stubborn lot, a law unto themselves in many ways. You could try bringing someone in from Chester.’

‘I could try paying nearly double what I should be paying to a high-priced fancy builder, as well,’ Honor retorted drily, adding with a twinkle in her eye, ‘I’m beginning to think my “bargain” home with its peppercorn rent wasn’t quite the bargain I first supposed.’

‘Ah well, my dear, you know what they say,’ Lord Astlegh told her jovially. ‘Caveat emptor.’

‘Let the buyer beware,’ she translated.

REMEMBERING the pleasant evening she had spent with her cousin, Honor smiled. He was a kind man, well-read and interesting to talk with. A widower now without any children to inherit from him, he was determined to do everything he could to safeguard the estate from being broken up when it eventually passed into the hands of the next in line. It was to that end that he was trying to make the estate as self-supporting as possible, using a variety of innovative means.

The outbuildings that he had converted into small, self-contained working units for a variety of local craftspeople were now in such demand that he had a waiting list of eager tenants. The antiques fairs and other events that the estate hosted brought in not just extra income but visitors to the working units and to the house and gardens and its tea and gift shops.

He was now talking about renovating the orangery and getting it licenced for weddings, and Honor had to admit it would make a perfect setting for them. Large enough to hold even the most lavish of receptions, the orangery ran along one wall of the enclosed kitchen garden. Enthusiastically, he had described to her how he planned to have the garden subtly altered with the addition of bowers of white climbing roses and a fountain.

As she listened to him, Honor had discovered that most of his ideas came originally from the man who was responsible for organising the antiques fairs—Guy Cooke.

‘Nice chap,’ he had told Honor. ‘Must introduce you to him and his wife. Pretty girl. One of the Crightons but on the wrong side of the blanket. Still, can’t say too much about that with our colourful family history, can we?’

THE CAT MIAOWED demandingly and to oblige it Honor went to get some food. Tomorrow she would make a concerted effort to find herself a builder—unless fate was kind enough to send her one.

‘A HERBALIST! I can’t see Gramps … Do you think that’s a good idea?’ Max Crighton asked his wife dubiously. ‘He’s bad enough about conventional medicine and I don’t think—’

‘We don’t have to tell him that she’s a herbalist,’ Maddy said gently. ‘I don’t want to deceive him, but I’m so worried about him, Max. He looks so weak and frail even the children are beginning to notice.’

‘Mmm. I know what you mean,’ Max agreed absently, picking up one of the fresh scones Maddy had just placed on a wire rack to cool and then shaking his fingers as it burned them.

‘Wait until they’re cool,’ Maddy scolded him. ‘You know they’ll give you indigestion if you don’t.’

‘Indigestion.’ Max’s eyes danced with laughter. ‘That’s what marriage does for you. The woman you love stops seeing you as someone who is sexually exciting and thinks of you instead as someone with indigestion.’

‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Maddy responded with a small smile.

‘No?’ Max questioned, his voice muffled as he took her in his arms and buried his mouth in the warm, soft, creamy, cooking-scented curve of her throat.

‘Nooooo …’ Maddy sighed.

The truth was that it would be hard to find a man who was more sexually attractive than her husband. Max wore his sexuality with very much the same panache and air of self-mockery with which he wore his barrister’s robes, a kind of dangerously sexy tongue-in-cheek, wry amusement at the reaction he was causing, coupled with a subtle but oh so sexy unspoken invitation to share in his amusement at it.

‘Why is that lady looking at my daddy?’ Emma had once asked Maddy as Max had met them both on their way home from school. He had stopped his car and got out, causing all the other mothers to gawp at him with varying degrees of bemused appreciation.

‘The lady’ in question had been almost as stunningly attractive as Max was himself, but for all the notice he had taken of her she might as well have been the same age as his aunt Ruth.

To the envy of Maddy’s friends, Max was a totally devoted husband and father.

It hadn’t always been that way. The Max who had married her had been a dangerous predatory man who had treated the emotions of those closest to him with a callousness it was hard to imagine now.

If, by some horrible blow of fate, the changes within him brought about by his frighteningly close brush with death in Jamaica should ever be reversed and he should revert to the man she had first met, Maddy knew that she could not and would not go back to being the girl she had been, the girl who had such low self-esteem that she had quietly and humbly allowed Max to emotionally abuse her.

Those days were gone and so was that Maddy. Now she and Max were equal partners in their marriage. Max didn’t just love her; he respected her, as well.

‘Where are one, two and three?’ he murmured against her throat as he nibbled hungrily, referring to their three children.

‘At your mother’s,’ Maddy told him huskily.

‘Mmm … let’s go upstairs.’

‘What’s wrong with down here?’ Maddy teased him daringly, giving him a flirtatious look. ‘Ben never comes in here and there’s no one else in the house.’

‘Here?’

Max raised his eyebrows, but Maddy could tell that her suggestion had excited him.

‘You look so wonderfully sexy in your court clothes,’ she whispered in a small breathy voice.

Max started to laugh but immediately joined in her game, reaching out towards the tray of scones and saying sternly, ‘So what is this? I see that one scone is missing and you, wench, are the only one who could have taken it. Such a theft demands a very heavy sentence.’

‘No … no …’ Maddy cried, trying to tug her hand out of Max’s grasp, but he refused to let her go, skilfully backing her against the table.

‘A very heavy punishment,’ he repeated huskily. ‘Unless, mayhap, you have not eaten the stolen sweetmeat but secreted it about your person, in your pocket, perchance,’ he demanded. ‘Or …’

As his hands lifted towards her breasts, Maddy exploded into laughter. ‘Oh, Max.’ But as she saw the look in her husband’s eye, her laughter died.

‘Oh, Max, what?’ he challenged as he moved his body over hers and slid his free hand inside the blouse he had just unfastened. His palm felt heavy and warm against her breast, her nipple hardening immediately.

‘We can’t,’ Maddy breathed. ‘Not here …’

‘No?’ Max challenged her, letting go of her wrist to push her blouse off her shoulder and un-clip the front fastening of her bra before lifting her onto the table.

An hour later, a flushed and floury Maddy just managed to finish fastening her blouse before her three children and her mother-in-law came into the kitchen.

‘Jenny.’ Maddy beamed as she responded to the older woman’s affectionate hug. ‘Thanks for having them. Have you been good for Grandma?’ she asked her two elder children whilst Max expertly scooped their youngest out of Jenny’s arms.

‘Your skirt is all floury,’ Leo pointed out to his mother.

‘Yes, and so is your blouse,’ Emma chirped.

Blushing, Maddy turned away.

‘Mummy’s been very busy,’ Max told them tongue-in-cheek.

As Maddy turned towards him to give him a wifely look, Jenny remarked in amusement, ‘There’s flour all over the back of your skirt, as well, Maddy … and Max’s suit—’

‘Caught in the act,’ Max admitted cheerfully. ‘Well, almost …’

‘Max!’

Both Jenny and Maddy protested at the same time.

‘What does Daddy mean?’ Emma demanded, tugging insistently at Maddy’s skirt.

‘Uh-huh, bath time for you, baby,’ Max announced quickly, walking towards the kitchen door.

‘Men!’ Maddy expostulated to her mother-in-law after he had escaped.

‘Hmm. Talking of which, how’s Ben?’ Jenny asked her.

‘Not really any better,’ Maddy admitted. ‘He just doesn’t seem to … I’ve arranged for this herbalist I’ve heard about to come and see him. The problem is that she’s so busy it’s going to be a few weeks before she can come.’

‘A herbalist …?’

‘Herbal medicines are proven to work,’ Maddy began defensively, but Jenny shook her head.

‘I wasn’t criticising, my dear. I think it’s an excellent idea.’

‘Do you? Good. In fact, I’ve been wondering if we mightn’t use it somehow at The Houses.’

‘The Houses’ were the units of accommodation originally sponsored and started by Ben Crighton’s sister Ruth to provide secure homes for single mothers and their babies. They had since been extended to provide not just accommodation and rooms where young fathers could visit their children, but also to give access to educational opportunities to help equip the young mothers to earn their own living.

‘What are you planning to do?’ Jenny asked Maddy in some amusement. ‘Train all our teenage mums as potential herbalists?’

Maddy laughed. ‘No, of course not. No, what I was thinking was that we could perhaps utilise the kitchen garden here and combine a programme on gardening with nutritional awareness and simple, basic home remedies of the type our grandmothers would have used. It would be another step towards making our mums independent and add to their sense of self-worth.’

‘Well, it’s certainly worth thinking about,’ Jenny agreed.

After her late marriage to the man she had loved and believed lost to her, the father of her illegitimate daughter, Ruth had handed over day-to-day control of the charity she had founded to Jenny and Maddy, thus allowing her to split her time between her home in Haslewich and her family in America.

‘Mmm … and you know that land that was used for allotments—the land the council owns down by the river—it’s all overgrown and untidy now. Well, I was thinking, if we could persuade them to allow us to use it, the boys could perhaps be encouraged to clear it. It could be a community project.’

As she listened to the enthusiasm in her daughter-in-law’s voice, Jenny reflected that Ruth couldn’t have chosen anyone better to be her successor. Maddy had transformed herself from the shy, downtrodden bride Max had married into a woman of such enormous capability and compassion, of such energy and love, that Jenny felt blessed to have her as a member of the family.

‘Joss is most concerned about Ben,’ she confessed quietly to her daughter-in-law. ‘He asked Jon if he thought David would ever come home.’

Maddy gave the older woman an understanding look. ‘Gramps has become increasingly withdrawn and morose, as you know, but when he does speak, increasingly the sole topic of his conversation is David, and just recently he’s no longer talking about if David comes back but when he comes back.’

‘Oh dear,’ Jenny sighed. ‘Do you think …?’

Maddy shook her head. ‘Oh, no, he’s perfectly sensible. No sign of any dementia, according to Dr Forbes. No. I think that Ben is just so desperate to have David home, so determined that he will come home, that he’s convinced himself that it is going to happen. Do you think he will come back?’ Maddy asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Jenny replied thoughtfully. ‘He wasn’t … isn’t … like Jon. He …’

‘He’s like Max was before,’ Maddy agreed. ‘Yes, I know.’

‘Well, yes, but David never really had that … that hard-edged aggression of Max’s,’ Jenny told her. ‘He was selfish, yes, breathtakingly so, but weak. He must have known for years about Tiggy’s eating disorder,’ Jenny used the nickname for Tania the whole family knew her by, ‘but he never once attempted to do anything about it so far as we can tell. He never made any attempt to defend Olivia from Ben’s unkindness when she was growing up or to encourage her in her ambition to become a solicitor. And as for poor little Jack …’

‘Olivia has always said that he wasn’t a good father.’

‘No, he wasn’t,’ Jenny concurred soberly and then felt obliged to add in her brother-in-law’s defence much as she knew Jon would have done, ‘But against that you have to set his upbringing and the appalling indulgence with which Ben treated him. He put David on a pedestal so high that it not only gave him a warped idea of his own importance, but it must have been frightening for him at times.’

‘Frightening?’ Maddy queried.

‘Mmm … He must have worried about falling off it,’ Jenny told her simply. ‘And Ben never stopped insisting to Jon that he must virtually devote his life to his first-born twin brother. He also paradoxically and probably without thinking deliberately did everything he could to drive a wedge between them. Their loyalty to one another was never left to develop naturally. Jon was practically ordered to put David first.

‘It all stemmed, of course, from the fact that Ben lost his own twin brother at birth. His mother, who I am sure never realised what she was doing and was perhaps following the way of the times, seems to have brought Ben up in the belief that his dead brother would have been a saint and that Ben’s life and hers were blighted because he was not there to share it with them.

‘Having a twin is such a special relationship,’ Jenny added soberly. ‘To have another person made in one’s exact physical image and to have shared the intimacy of the womb with him and yet to know oneself to be completely separate from him.’

‘Olivia would hate it if David were to return,’ Maddy said with insight.

‘She does have scant reason to want him back. As we’ve agreed, he wasn’t a good father. Add to that the fact that she had to deal with not just her mother’s bulimia but David’s fraud, as well, at a time when her own relationship with Caspar was going through a bad patch, and I can understand why she feels so negatively towards him.’

‘Yes, so can I.’ Very carefully, Maddy drew an abstract outline on the kitchen table with her fingernail before saying slowly to Jenny, ‘I don’t think Olivia is feeling too happy at the moment.’

As she lifted her head and looked into Jenny’s eyes, the older woman’s heart sank. Olivia was as close and as dear to her as one of her own daughters—more so in some ways—and although Olivia had said nothing to her, Jenny, too, had noticed how strained and unhappy she was looking.

‘Jon has told her that she is working far too hard,’ Jenny responded.

There was a small pause and then Maddy said uncertainly, ‘You don’t think there’s anything wrong between her and Caspar, do you?’

Jenny looked searchingly at her. ‘What makes you ask that?’

‘Nothing. Well, nothing I can explain logically,’ Maddy admitted. ‘It’s just … well, I’ve noticed whenever I go round that there’s a sort of atmosphere.’

‘Olivia has mentioned that she feels that Caspar ought to refuse an invitation they’ve received to attend a wedding in the family,’ Jenny told her carefully. ‘Perhaps …’

‘No, Olivia told me about that. I think it’s more than that. They just don’t … they just don’t seem happy together any more,’ Maddy told her hesitantly. ‘And the children …’ She stopped and shook her head. ‘Olivia isn’t the type to discuss her most personal thoughts and feelings freely, but I know how much you and Jon think of her and would hate—’

‘Olivia has always been a very private person,’ Jenny quickly agreed. ‘Her home life made her very independent from an early age. That was one of the things that helped her to bond so closely with Caspar, I think, the fact that they both experienced difficult childhoods, Caspar with his parents’ constant remarriages and Olivia with David and Tiggy’s problems. We were very close when Olivia was younger, but she seems to have changed since Alex’s birth.’ Jenny gave a small sigh. ‘I suppose it’s only to be expected—she has Caspar now and the children, and Caspar adores Amelia and Alex. He’s a wonderful father.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Maddy agreed, turning away from Jenny as she asked a little awkwardly, ‘I was wondering if that could be part of the problem. Oh, I know that Olivia loves them, too, but—’

‘You think that she might be a little resentful of the fact that because of their different careers, Caspar has taken over the main parenting role?’ Jenny guessed. ‘Olivia loves her children,’ she added protectively.

‘Her children—yes,’ Maddy replied before saying uncomfortably, ‘I probably shouldn’t mention this, but the other week when we were over there for dinner, Olivia really snapped at Caspar over something trifling and it wasn’t just an ordinary husband-and-wife grizzle. She’s told me, too, that she thinks Caspar has become far too protective of the children. Whilst we were there, she said to him, quite vehemently, that Haslewich wasn’t New York.’

‘Max is a very caring father, too,’ Jenny said.

‘Mmm … but not to the extent of correcting me about what size socks the children wear and whether or not they need new underwear,’ Maddy told her simply. ‘To be quite honest, I can imagine that in Olivia’s shoes I might easily feel just a little shut out and I—’

‘You didn’t have Olivia’s upbringing when she learned in the most painful way that as a girl, as herself, she wasn’t properly valued. I understand what you’re saying and I can see the problem, but seeing it and knowing what to do about it are two different things.’

‘Yes, I know. I did offer to have the children for a weekend so the two of them could go away together, but Olivia said that they simply didn’t have the time. “I’m far too busy at work” and “Caspar would never leave the children” were her exact words.’

‘Mmm …’ Jenny was thoughtful.

‘Oh, and speaking of children, I almost forgot. Did Leo say anything to you about seeing a strange man?’

‘No!’ Jenny denied immediately, looking alarmed. ‘Where? What …?’

‘Well, you know what a vivid imagination my son’s got.’ Maddy gave Jenny a rueful look. ‘But he keeps talking about a “nice man” who he wants to be his friend. He says he’s seen him in the garden. “Grampy Man” he calls him, whatever that means! But whenever we’ve gone out to look, we haven’t seen a sign of anyone.’

‘Oh, Maddy, have you told the police? These days …’

‘Not yet. Leo knows, of course, about not talking to strangers or going near them, but the odd thing is that he keeps referring to this man as a nice man, but when I asked him what he meant he couldn’t explain. He’s normally very cautious, too, but—’

‘Where exactly has he seen him?’ Jenny asked worriedly.

‘In the garden. But when I wanted to know what the man was doing, Leo said, “Nothing. He was just standing looking.” Not at him, apparently, but at the house.’

‘I think you really ought to mention it to the police,’ Jenny cautioned.

‘Yes, but if it’s just some poor itinerant looking for an empty shed to spend the night in—’

‘Maddy, you’ve got a heart of gold,’ Jenny told her, shaking her head.

‘Maybe, but I’m still making sure that the children don’t go out of my sight when they’re in the garden,’ Maddy assured her.

As the grandfather clock on the stairs struck the hour, Maddy gave a small groan.

‘Is that the time? I haven’t given Ben his medicine yet this afternoon.’

Jenny laughed not unsympathetically as she told her, ‘Perhaps if your herbalist’s remedies work, you won’t have to any more.’

Maddy laughed with her. ‘Wouldn’t that be something? You wouldn’t believe the lengths he goes to not to have to take his pills and yet, after refusing them, he goes on to complain about the pain he’s in. He says they make him feel sleepy and he’s even accused us of trying to sedate him into senility. He apologises afterwards, of course, but when he’s having a bad day …’ She shook her head.

‘You’re a saint. Do you know that?’ Jenny told her fondly as she got up and gave her a loving hug.

CHAPTER THREE

‘… MADDY WAS SAYING that when she and Max went to dinner with Olivia and Caspar, Olivia was … Jon, you aren’t listening to a word I’m saying,’ Jenny protested.

‘Sorry, Jen. What was that?’ Jon apologised, giving his wife a penitent look.

‘I was just trying to talk to you about how concerned both Maddy and I are about Olivia and Caspar,’ Jenny told him mock sternly and then sighed and asked him more gently, ‘What is it, Jon? What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ he denied swiftly, too swiftly in Jenny’s wifely opinion.

‘Yes, there is,’ she insisted. ‘Tell me.’

‘It’s David,’ Jon admitted with reluctance. ‘I just can’t stop thinking about him. I don’t want to. Heaven knows I’ve got a hundred other things I ought to be thinking about—at least—but no matter how hard I try to keep him out, he keeps coming into my mind.’

Because she understood and loved him, instead of allowing him to see her curiosity by demanding further details, she simply smiled and said nonchalantly, ‘Oh, I expect it’s just because we’ve been talking about him recently.’