A Summer Reunion Page 29
William didn’t like the story at all. He had a quiet word with Johnny and let’s just say that the exhibition has closed and Walsh has left the island. I suspect, actually know, Johnny is spreading the word through his contacts in the art world so exhibitions might be harder for him to come by in the future. I hope so. His wife’s still here. Someone told me she’s staying on the island for the summer and keeping her yoga classes going. Sheila had a flyer for them.
I felt uneasy about Anika. I worried that I’d been too hasty. I didn’t want to destroy her marriage but to let her know who she was married to; but perhaps that wasn’t my job, as Linda had said. I consoled myself with the thought that if the marriage was solid, surely this was a hiccup they would be able to get over. If not, we’d done her a favour, though she might not see it like that quite yet. And I have to admit I was delighted about the exhibition.
My first day back at work, I had a call from Rob: the first time we’d spoken in weeks. Just the sound of his voice made me anxious, but I reminded myself I had to be strong.
‘Can I come and see you?’ He sounded odd, morose. ‘I need to talk.’
‘What about? All I want to hear from you is that you’ve repaid what you owe in full.’
Suffice to say that the following week, Rob came to the office. I wasn’t keen on meeting him at home but neither did I want a public confrontation.
When I picked him up from our tiny reception area, I was shocked. This was not the man who had left me. Here was someone with all the stuffing beaten out of him. He looked awful: unshaven with a grey pallor, and he’d lost weight. We went into my room where we sat at the round table where we’d held so many meetings together in the past. But I had to harden my heart against nostalgia.
‘Are you all right?’
‘No.’ He sat opposite me, hunched in the chair, unable to look me in the face. ‘I’ve made a terrible mistake.’
He looked broken, and my heart went out to him. But …
‘I want us to get back together.’ His head lifted, his eyes full of hope.
This was not what I’d expected at all. Nor was my reaction. If he had asked sooner, perhaps I would have given way. But not now. I’d spent so much time thinking about us, about our relationship and where I had gone wrong. There wasn’t a way back for us.
‘I’m sorry, Rob. I don’t think that’s a good idea.’ Nonetheless that was such a hard thing to say.
His expression changed. ‘Why not? We can go back to the way things were. Just a bit of an effort and we’ll be fine.’ He looked around him at the office that had been so familiar and dear to both of us. That might sound odd, but so many decisions had been made there. His eyes stopped on the shelf where our wedding photo and a photos of us on holiday in Hong Kong used to be. I had removed them. Otherwise the room was as he knew it, a comfortable working space with the same furniture, same pictures, same books, although I had moved a vase his mother had given us into a cupboard. However he didn’t comment.
‘No.’ I remembered my conclusion to all my deliberations about the future. ‘It’s gone too far. You stole from us so you could set up in competition with Morag. How can I forgive that?’
He hung his head again, shamed. ‘I know. I’ve been so unbelievably stupid. But couldn’t we at least try? Please.’ Through the glass tabletop, I could see his fingers clasp and unclasp together. ‘I miss you.’
Seeing him like this was awful but, despite my sympathy, my heart hardened in the face of his desperation. I knew him well enough to know there was something else that he wasn’t saying. ‘What’s happened? Has Morag changed her mind?’
‘No.’ He pulled himself upright, businesslike suddenly. ‘OK. I’ll be honest with you.’
I knew he was about to say something I wasn’t going to like. And sure enough …
‘I can’t raise the balance of the money. I thought I’d raised sufficient investment but it’s fallen through. Morag’s spent a lot on the shop and stock so we need to start trading before we recoup. We’re going to have to ask for more time. Please.’
If that’s what they were relying on, it could take years. Had he forgotten that I’d built a business from scratch too? I knew what it was like, and how much graft and self-belief it took, how much investment with so little immediate return. I had to be firm. If I bent now, I would lose the respect of my colleagues, and of myself. How dare he? Cushioning their inability to repay in full in a blether of self-recrimination and love for me. Although the word ‘love’ hadn’t come into it, I reminded myself. He didn’t want me back at all. He wanted to save himself. The realisation strengthened my resolve.
‘Rob, I’m sorry. I gave you a month, almost six weeks ago. Tomorrow morning I’m going into the office and I’m going to have to ask Kerry to initiate criminal proceedings. I have to, you must see that. We need that money.’
‘So do we.’ He was angry now. Frightened too, I expect. I’d seen Morag lose her temper once when something went adrift at work. It wasn’t pretty.
‘But it’s not yours to take. Don’t you see that? It’s not mine either. Believe me it breaks my heart to do this, but I have no choice. I’ve tried to be as fair as possible.’
‘You knew a month was an impossible ask!’
‘I didn’t know that. I hoped that between you, you’d find it somehow. Or even that you still had it.’
He didn’t stay for long after that. We didn’t have much else to say. I was saddened watching his forlorn figure walking away but I was furious too. Had he honestly been going to leave Morag for me? Of course not! His attempt to win me back had been just a ploy to buy them time.
I went into work the next day and told Kerry to report the fraud formally.
‘Thank God!’ was her response. ‘I didn’t think you’d be able to do it.’
‘Nor did I,’ I admitted. ‘But I can’t let him get away with it.’ I felt sick at the thought of his possible jail sentence, however short, but I had to keep reminding myself that by defrauding Amy Green, he had been acting against me and everything we had held dear.
‘I’ll make the relevant calls this morning.’ She made a note on a pad in front of her, then looked up as if she was expecting me to let her get on with it.
‘Actually there’s something I want to run by you.’ I had to do this while Mallorca and everything that went with our island reunion was still fresh in my mind. As I explained my idea, Kerry’s expression changed from dubious to enthusiastic. By the time I’d finished, she was nodding her head.
‘It’s a great idea but can we afford it? Shall I run it by Ed?’ Ed was our new financial guy who had stepped into Rob’s role and was putting us back to rights.
So it was that four or five days later, I called Linda.
‘I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.’ But she sounded pleased.
‘How’s it going?’
‘I’m almost a free woman. Just over a couple of months to go but I think they’ll let me go earlier. Imagine.’ She paused. ‘I’ve no idea what I’m going to do but I’m excited, although nervous too.’
‘Then I’ve called at exactly the right moment.’ I was bursting to tell her my idea. ‘Even though we’ve had to put our expansion plans on hold while we sort out the financial side of things, we do need an archivist. We’re always getting requests for designs, often from way back and it’s all a bit hit and miss. So if we had someone who could make a database and archive all our stuff with digital images and swatches and so on … Well, that would help us no end.’
‘And you want me?’ Her disbelief was almost comical.
‘Well, I do. You’ve got all those cataloguing and digitising skills, haven’t you? But you’ll have to come and meet Kerry and Ed and the team. I’ve a hunch you’d be perfect. What do you say?’ I was on tenterhooks for her reply.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’
m sure, otherwise why would I have called you?’ I mustn’t let my impatience show.
‘Then, yes.’ She began to laugh. ‘I’d love to come and meet them.’
‘What about your aunt?’ In my excitement, I’d forgotten her. ‘Is she a consideration? I don’t know how much of this could be done from home.’ I was annoyed with myself that I hadn’t thought that aspect through.
‘She’s a consideration all right, but I think it may be okay. She’s warming to the idea of a home I took her to the other day. Anyway, I haven’t got the job yet so don’t let’s jump ahead too soon. But she’s keener than she was and I think we might be able to arrange things.’
She must have known she had the job really, but I didn’t think I should admit that any interviews were merely a formality.
That evening, I let myself into the house and for the first time I didn’t feel racked with loneliness. For some reason, I felt it welcome me in as if we weren’t waiting for Rob to come back too. I had briefly considered selling it and moving somewhere smaller that wouldn’t have its history, but I loved the place. Slowly, I was getting used to being there on my own. If I’m honest, I had been on my own for much longer than from the day Rob made his announcement. We had been leading separate lives for longer than I had cared to admit.
On the doormat was a scatter of envelopes. Only one with a first-class stamp looked of any interest. I took them into the kitchen where I took one of the bar stools and sat at the island. I’d removed the skeleton clock that reminded me too much of Rob and that night, and hung an outsize black-and-white photograph of the lighthouse at Cap de Formentor in its place. I shunted the mail to one side of the work surface, apart from the one handwritten. Inside was a card with the picture of a long drystone wall cutting through a rolling landscape dotted with sheep. It was from Kate. What she couldn’t write in the card ran on to an enclosed sheet of paper.
So this is what you’re missing! Beautiful Yorkshire! Just to say a huge thank you for having us all. Got home safely and have settled back into farm life as if I’d never been away. But haven’t forgotten resolutions!! Changes are being made. Small at first!
Haven’t heard from Linda but Jane has called me a couple of times. I haven’t called back. We did see her at her worst, and I’m sure I’ll feel better about her in time but, just the moment, I’m not sure what to say to her. I think I’ll leave it a while longer. Is that bad? She did leave a message today though. Seems the tribunal gave her a warning. So she hasn’t lost her job. That doesn’t sound so bad to me but apparently it goes on her record and can be seen by anyone who bothers to look her up. Reputation, reputation, reputation! Anyway …
And what happened to Jack? Did you see him again? And Dan? I’m afraid I made a bit of a fool of myself but I enjoyed being with him even if he did have an ulterior motive all along.
I took a tangerine and began tearing off the skin. I couldn’t hold Dan’s behaviour against him for long. If he didn’t behave in that way, he wouldn’t be the brother I loved. Of course I’d helped him out with yet another loan in the end, but only after making him sit down and go through exactly what he needed and why. Five thousand pounds had been a hopeless exaggeration so I lent him the right amount. He’s the only family I’ve got left now and he’s never going to change. I’d just have to get used to it.
I’ve been wondering how we can get together again. Not immediately of course. Do you remember I suggested that you came here? A far cry from Mallorca, but we do have a small cottage that we rent with Airbnb. It’s quite comfortable and if you came next spring … I know it’s a long way off … but the land is coming back to life, and the lambs …
I felt myself smiling. I might have plenty of local and professional friends, but I was so glad to have these two women back in my life. I had a feeling they were going to be there for good.
I got out my own cards from my desk drawer, each showing one of my designs. I leafed through them until I found the one I wanted for Kate: the blues and greens of my seascape collection. Thinking about the following spring, which would be here before we knew it, and the possibility of another weekend with them, I took my pen, and began my reply.
Acknowledgements
So many more people are involved in the making of a novel than the writer so my thanks go to:
My extraordinary and tireless agent Clare Alexander who always offers the soundest of advice and has had my back at all times. Clare Hey, my patient and inspiring editor, and of course all her team at Orion, with a special mention of Alainna Hadjigeorgou, Olivia Barber and Amy Davies. Once again, Sally Partington was the most eagle-eyed of copyeditors.
Julie Sharman for plotting and planning as we walked, and whose medical experience I plundered yet again. Lizy Buchan and Janet Ellis for being the staunchest of friends and readers. Anne Welsh and Rebecca Jones who helped me understand more about librarianship. Neville Pereira, Richard Sloan and Andrew Blake for answering my questions about fraud. Lisa Comfort for advice on setting up a business. Lucy Atkins for her knowledge of Oxford. Bill Wright for introducing me to Fornalutx and Miranda McMinn for telling me about Deiá and more. Any mistakes are mine alone.
And thanks of course to my family and friends, especially my husband, who put up with me and my ups and downs while getting this story down.
Author Biography
Fanny Blake was a publisher for many years, editing both fiction and non-fiction before becoming a freelance journalist and writer. She has written various non-fiction titles, as well as acting as ghost writer for a number of celebrities. She was Books Editor of Woman & Home magazine until recently, regularly reviews fiction in the Daily Mail and has been a judge for the Costa Novel Award, the British Book Awards and the Comedy Women in Print Award, among others. She is the commissioning editor for Quick Reads, a series of short books by well-known authors. She has written eight novels, including An Italian Summer and A Summer Reunion.
To find out more visit www.fannyblake.co.uk or follow her on Twitter @FannyBlake1
Also by Fanny Blake
What Women Want
Women of a Dangerous Age
The Secrets Women Keep
With a Friend Like You
House of Dreams
Our Summer Together
An Italian Summer
AN ORION EBOOK
First published in Great Britain in 2019 by Orion Books
Ebook first published in 2019 by Orion Books
Copyright © Fanny Blake 2019
The right of Fanny Blake to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 978 1 4091 7715 9
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