A Summer Reunion Read online

‘What? When I get home?’ She smiled to herself. ‘I’m going to talk to Alan about going away together. It’ll be a miracle if I can get him off the farm but I will try.’

  ‘Good for you. And you, Amy?’

  I sensed Linda glance at my profile as she waited for my answer.

  That wasn’t difficult to give. ‘I’m going to sort out Rob and the money because I’m determined the business shouldn’t suffer, and then I’m going to make a new life.’

  ‘I’m going to send you some dates so we can meet up again. Maybe you could both come to Yorkshire?’ Kate sat back, smiling.

  Discussing what we might do there meant the drive to the airport whizzed by. I walked with them into the terminal, kissed them goodbye and watched as they went into Departures together. They both stopped for a second to wave for a last time and then they had gone. But I was happy to think that we’d see each other again.

  And then I drove to Valldemossa.

  When I walked into the gallery, I found Anika studying the paintings. She moved like a dancer, gliding from one to the next, stopping and looking intently at each one. Her hair was tightly knotted at the nape of her neck, showing off her long neck and straight back. The room wasn’t large but it was well lit and the few paintings were spaced out round the walls. They were riots of swirling colour that looked as if they had been spun in a washing machine. They were far too abstract for my taste although his use of colour was exciting.

  I cleared my throat. ‘Hello.’

  The alarm on her face showed that she recognised me. ‘You’re one of those women from last night. What do you want?’

  ‘I’m curious about the paintings, and I thought I’d come and see Jack. But I’m more than glad to see you.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk to you. He’ll be here in a minute.’ She headed towards a door at the back of the gallery, then stopped as if she had remembered something.

  ‘Why were you all so rude? How do you know Jack?’

  This was my opportunity to put the record straight. Should I take it? For her sake as much as for our own. ‘He was our art teacher at school. We haven’t seen him since then but we never forgot him because of what he did.’

  ‘What did he do?’ She looked terrified. ‘It must have been very bad if it still matters so much.’

  ‘It was. For one of us it was literally life-changing. For me? Well, I was just put on a different path to the one I thought I’d follow.’

  ‘Life-changing, how?’ Her fingers fluttered to her throat.

  ‘I think you should ask Jack. But don’t let him dismiss Linda as someone from the past who doesn’t matter. She does matter. Just like the girl he went to prison for.’ Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that but it slipped out.

  She took a couple of steps towards me, her face aghast. ‘What?’

  ‘How old were you when you met?’

  ‘Nineteen. Why?’

  ‘And he was what?’

  ‘Forty.’

  I shook my head. So until he met her, he hadn’t really changed. ‘Just talk to him. Find out the truth about the man you’re living with. That’s all.’

  Anika turned away just as the door opened.

  ‘Amy!’ Jack stood framed in the doorway, not at all pleased to see me. His right fist clenched and unclenched. Behind him the dappled street was busy with tourists, none of them giving a second glance to the gallery and what was going on inside. I was glad I had the advantage of surprise.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ He must have hoped he’d seen the last of us.

  ‘I’m interested in seeing your work after all this time.’

  Anika went over and took his arm. She was tiny, birdlike compared to the man he’d become. He didn’t say a thing, just scratched at his beard and stared at me. I can’t remember anyone ever looking at me with such loathing and with such underlying apprehension at the same time. That gave me a great sense of achievement.

  I walked up to a painting, a splurge of bright colours but from a reddish palette. Sunset.

  ‘Perhaps we should talk in the office.’ He spoke as the door opened and a couple wandered in off the street.

  ‘No, it’s OK. I’ve said all I’ve come to say.’ I acknowledged Anika with a nod.

  Now he looked alarmed, as well he might. ‘What do you want from me?’ He leaned against the wall for support. ‘I’ve apologised. Isn’t that enough?’

  ‘For you, perhaps. But that was just words. Nothing can make up for happened to Linda and the way you abandoned her.’

  Anika gave a little gasp and looked up at him for an explanation.

  ‘But that’s what young men do,’ he protested, spittle landing on his beard.

  ‘Some young men,’ I said. ‘Others wouldn’t have broken—’

  ‘You don’t need to say any more.’ He went over and held open the door. ‘I’d like you to leave now.’

  ‘With pleasure,’ I said, hoping that what I’d said to Anika was enough at least to make his life difficult for a while.

  ‘Now what?’ He took a step towards me but I wasn’t frightened. He was less menacing and more fearful. ‘Are you satisfied now?’ He looked down at his wife whose expression was changing. She unhooked her arm from his and stood aside.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘This has been way more interesting that I thought it was going to be. You’ll have to wait and see.’

  As I stepped outside into the sunshine, I was pleased that I had been able to do for Linda what she would never have done. I felt bad for Anika. I didn’t want to upset her life, after all she was the innocent in all this, but wasn’t it better that she knew who she was married to? I was justifying my secret-spilling in the name of the sisterhood. But she had done nothing to me and I did realise that I was not the one to make that call.

  As I walked down the main street of Valldemossa, alive with people sitting outside at the cafés, going in and out of the souvenir shops, I felt a spring in my step that I hadn’t felt for a while. I thought ahead to home. I would be able to cope with what lay ahead. I knew that now. Rob deserved what was coming to him. I’d made the company’s position completely clear. But before I had to deal with it, he had two days in which to organise his finances while I would enjoy my last couple of days at Ca’n Amy.

  26

  The last leg of the journey home was a lonely business. Having said goodbye to Kate at Victoria Station, Linda didn’t feel the relief she had been anticipating at being on her own again. She had imagined being on the train with a paper and a plain KitKat, enjoying the journey and being able to reflect on the past few days. Instead she was surrounded by a rowdy gang of football fans on their way home who made her feel even more alone. She missed the company of the others much more than she’d anticipated: the joking, the support, the easy familiarity that had developed.

  She had only been home half an hour before she went to collect Sacha. As soon as she’d returned and shut the front door, she opened the door of the cat basket. If she was hoping for the welcome of a returning hero, she was disappointed. Sacha showed her displeasure at being locked away by ignoring Linda as if she had been banned to the Antarctic instead of to a cage with a heated floor, and a menu of Linda’s choice.

  ‘Okay. You be like that. I can wait.’ Linda went to the treat drawer and, within minutes, Sacha was eating out of her hand. ‘Silly.’ She took the small pile of mail and sat on the sofa with a cup of tea, while Sacha settled beside her. Already they had fallen back into their routine. After a while, they went into the garden and Linda was soon cutting back, weeding and thinking about the bulbs she would plant in the autumn. But over everything hung the thought of her first day back at work. She had one day’s grace before she had to face her colleagues: one day in which to stop swithering and make her final decision.

  ‘There was so much fighting talk in Mallorca,’ she told Sacha, w
hose ear flicked as a fly landed on her. ‘I’m not sure I’m brave enough to go through with it. What do you think?’

  Staying at the library, continuing to work on the enquiries desk was not an attractive prospect but at least she’d have a job.

  But for how long? Amy’s voice rang in her ear.

  And if you’re not enjoying it, is it worth it? Kate supported her.

  Take the money. Life’s short. Even Jane threw in her tuppence worth.

  ‘Stop it, all of you. Let me make my own mind up.’ She helped herself to another chocolate biscuit, the thing that accompanied the best decision-making, and switched on the TV.

  ‘And what about Aunt Pat,’ she asked Sacha. ‘If I don’t have a job, perhaps I should look after her. After all I owe her pretty much everything.’

  Sacha jumped off the chair and headed for her food bowl. But, but, but … becoming a full-time carer had never been part of any plan.

  The following day, the hour-long drive to her Aunt Pat’s gave her plenty of time for thought. She didn’t want to become her full-time carer, but that might be financially expedient if there was no money coming in. When her aunt was younger and old age seemed an impossibility, even she had said Linda must never give up her independence for her or anyone else. To say that after she had given up her own to bring up Linda made her self-sacrifice all the more remarkable. However, without a job, without Mike, Linda would have no real reason not to. The thought of selling up to go and live with her aunt broke her heart. However she remembered Kate’s words – ‘We’ve only got one life’ – and crossed her fingers on the steering wheel.

  When she arrived at the terraced Victorian cottage, she let herself in. ‘Hi there! Aunt Pat!’ she called. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘In here.’ Her aunt was in her favourite chair, a rug tucked round her legs, a morning games show blaring from the TV. Beside her were the remains of her breakfast, blackcurrant jam smeared among toast crumbs, an empty cup of tea. She was dressed, a cardigan done up unevenly over a shirt that looked as though it might have been slept in. Her hair, once such a pride and joy, was now so thin and grey her scalp was visible. Always a woman who took pride in her appearance, she had even made a stab at her make-up. Linda couldn’t help loving the belligerent but kind old woman who had given her so much and who was so reduced by age.

  ‘Are you ready?’ She pointed the remote at the TV and turned it down a fraction, though they both still had to shout to make themselves heard. ‘We’re going to see Judy, remember?

  ‘I don’t want to go.’ She was pouting like a small child.

  ‘We don’t have to stay for long.’

  With a lot of tutting and muttering, her aunt kicked off her slippers. ‘Pass me my shoes, but I must be back in time for Father Brown.’

  With her aunt’s arm linked through hers, Linda took her out to the car. Perhaps once she saw Fairstead House, she might reconsider. Talking about what they did in Mallorca, omitting all mention of Jack, took up most of the journey until they eventually pulled into the gravel driveway of a large Victorian building. Fairstead House could never be called cheery but exuded the grim fortitude of an institution. Black drainpipes angled down its red-brick façade, and the windows stared expressionless at the outside world.

  A woman who Linda took to be Judy appeared at the front door. Tying her hair back in a ponytail emphasised her wide smile. ‘Pat! I’m so glad you’re here. I thought we could go and sit in the sunroom. I’ve ordered tea and the fruitcake you like.’ She offered her arm.

  In the corridors they passed young visitors, a tea room, a room where a small art class was going on; in another a few elderly people were watching TV; in another, tables were laid for dinner.

  Her aunt refused to look anywhere but straight ahead. However she mustered a smile when they arrived in the sunroom. Large, airy and well-furnished, it opened on to a large garden with a lawn like a bowling green that was surrounded by glorious overflowing herbaceous borders.

  While they had tea, Judy was effusive in her praise of the place. Linda just sat back and listened, wishing her aunt was a more malleable soul. As Judy talked, drawing her aunt out of herself in a way that she never could, Linda drifted into thinking about her own predicament. Wasn’t the most important thing to have control of one’s own life? Before Linda realised what was happening, Judy had persuaded Pat to see one of the vacant bedrooms, and they were leaving her in the last of the late summer sun.

  When they rejoined her, Linda tried to quiz her about where she’d been.

  ‘Very nice. But not for me.’ For the first time, they heard uncertainty in her voice.

  On the way home, Pat said little before dozing off, her head hanging forward, looking as if its weight would snap her neck. Linda didn’t dare hope that visiting Fairstead House would have changed her aunt’s mind. Once made up, there was little anyone could do until she was ready.

  The following morning, she was up at six-thirty, as usual, wondering what her first day back at work would bring. She dressed in her smartest blouse and black skirt, then changed her mind. Pulling them off and chucking them on her bed, she took the blue top she bought in Sóller instead, pairing it with some pale grey skinny trousers. Just the change of clothes made her feel as if Amy, Jane and Linda were coming into work with her. They made her feel braver. The three women had made her question what her life should be about. And the answer? Instead of trying to please others, she must try to live life for herself. Easier said than done though.

  As soon as she walked through the door of the library, she was aware that she was getting more than the usual sideways glances. Within minutes, Frankie, her only real friend there, had taken her to one side.

  ‘Watch out, Simon’s on the warpath, and you’re in his sights. Stella’s complained about you taking too long to answer queries. She says she doesn’t have time to deal with the resulting queues.’ That was probably a fair criticism because Linda did get caught up in each enquiry, pursuing the leads as far as she could. That was the aspect of the job she enjoyed most. The people she helped thought she was fantastic. Others did not.

  Simon, Mike’s replacement, had wasted no time in reorganising the systems and introducing new programmes to attract new users. The whole place was being rearranged and reclassified – against Linda’s advice. She had been made too aware what a lowly position she held in his esteem. She was part of the old guard and just about tolerated on board the gleaming new ship, no more than that.

  ‘I’m only just through the door. What else am I supposed to have done?’

  She didn’t have long to wait for an answer. Simon barrelled round to the reception desk where she was working that day, his approach heralded by the click of his heels and his brisk cough. He stood in front of her, all angular legs and arms like a giant stick insect, looking down his patrician nose at her.

  ‘Have you got a moment, Linda?’

  The expected answer was not, ‘No.’

  Having exited from the document on which she was working, she followed him through the stacks to the small windowless room they used for meetings. The overhead neon light was unforgiving and the books and papers piled on the shelves needed a thorough go-through, but that wasn’t her job. The coffee machine responsible for the gallons of indifferent coffee that she’d drunk over the years sat on the side, not working.

  ‘So.’ He waited for her to sit opposite him. ‘Good holiday?’

  Why was he asking a question, when they both knew he had zero interest in the answer. But she would play along. ‘Fine. Thank you.’

  ‘While you were away, it came to my notice that the way you manage your time on the desk …’

  As she listened to him drone on, she was struck by a flash of understanding. At once it became abundantly clear what she had to do. ‘Can I stop you there?’ she asked.

  ‘Well!’ His long fingers reminded her of spiders’
legs as they skittered on the table. ‘Do you have something you want to say?’

  ‘I do,’ she said, feeling the words bubbling up. ‘I never wanted to work on the desk, as you know, but … I’ve enjoyed giving people as much help as they need. But whether or not I take too long needn’t worry you any longer, nor any other aspects of my work here, because I’ve decided to apply for voluntary redundancy.’

  He sat bolt upright as if he’d received an electric shock in his bony nether regions. ‘You have? Are you sure?’ A smile began to twitch at the corners of his mouth.

  Seeing it, Linda knew she had made the right decision, whatever happened to her. ‘Quite sure,’ she said. ‘There are various things I want to do with my life, and staying on here isn’t one of them. When funding was withdrawn from the Tom Florence project, that should perhaps have been my moment, but I’m taking it now.’

  ‘Then you must—’

  ‘I know. I must go to HR and sort it out. Thank you, Simon. It’s been a pleasure.’ As she left the room, she felt as if she was ten feet tall with adrenaline fizzing through her.

  The HR manager was able to see her immediately. Their chat was brief. A payment calculated against her long service and three months’ notice – and that was generous, she was told. She could take the rest of the afternoon off, but he’d see her to discuss the finer detail in the morning.

  She left the building without saying anything, even to Frankie. The only people she really wanted to see and discuss this with were Amy and Kate, although phone or email weren’t the same as face-to-face. By the time she was unlocking her front door, her euphoria had begun to wear off and a fear of the future was creeping in.

  ‘I’ll find something,’ she said to Sacha when she got home, trying to sound calm when inside she was quailing.

  But the truth was, she didn’t want to find another library job. As time passed, the more certain she became of that. What she had been reduced to was not the job she had once enjoyed. Instead, she had been given a chance. This was the break she needed so she must use it wisely. Three months and a tax-free pay-off would keep her going for the immediate future until she found something. She could always work in a shop if she ran out of money first. But would she?