Once Ariadne had left in her taxi for Lexia’s place in Heath Green, Juno zipped herself into her old navy Barbour and walked down the garden to the bottom of the paddock with the dish of left-over pasta for the girls. Matilda, mindful of the marauding fox that had been appearing earlier and earlier these days, regardless of the lighter evenings now that the clocks had just been put forward for British Summer Time, had locked up the chucks for the evening before coming in for supper. Despite the mass of daffodils, and now tulips that were also showing off their incredible array of colours in the fading dusk, the evening in this first week of April was still chilly and Juno gave a little involuntary shiver as she unlocked and opened the hen’s coop and scraped the food into their feeding trays.
Harry Trotter was still grazing in his favourite spot towards the top of the paddock, but raised his head and then slowly walked down towards her. Juno’s instinct was to quickly lock up the hen coop and climb back over the fence out of his way but, instead, told herself it was about time she got over her fear of the pony and, steeling herself, moved back to sit on the top of the double-barred gate in the fence, waiting until he came and stood beside her, curious as to what was in her hand.
‘Nothing for you, matey,’ she said, as he pushed his velvety face into the dish. ‘And it’s your bedtime.’ She put up a tentative hand to his nose and he lifted his head as though about to rear back but, instead placed his face back in the empty dish, blowing air through both nostrils. ‘You’re very beautiful,’ Juno whispered as he finally allowed her to touch him. ‘Next time, I’ll bring you something and we can get to know each other properly? Hmm…?’
‘Blimey, you’re braver than me, Mum. I wouldn’t get in there with him. He’s a maniac.’ Gabe had come out to find her and stood, shivering, on the other side of the fence. ‘What are you doing, anyway?’
‘Oh, just gathering a bit of courage.’ She smiled as she continued to stroke Harry’s nose, delighted that he was allowing it.
‘Courage?’ Gabe frowned. ‘You’re not thinking of riding him, are you?’
Juno laughed. ‘No, just thought it was about time I got over my fear of horses,’ she said, though that wasn’t what she’d meant.
‘Mum?’
‘Hmm?’
‘We’re not going to go and live in America, are we?’
‘You don’t want to? You don’t want to go and live out there with Dad?’
‘No.’
Gabe turned and walked back to the house and then turned again towards Juno. ‘Oh, I came out to tell you that new doctor of yours – the Australian – just rang you on your mobile.’
‘He’s from New Zealand.’ Juno felt her pulse immediately rev up. Jesus, between Fraser turning up unannounced, her standing her ground with Harry Trotter and now Gabe speaking to Scott, she’d probably speeded up her whole system so much she’d knocked several years off her allotted lifespan. ‘Why didn’t you bring my phone out to me, or call me in?’
‘I just assumed you were with Dad upstairs.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘Oh, just that my dad was back from America and you were upstairs in the bedroom with him.’
‘Right.’
‘He said it wasn’t important and he’d see you at work.’ Gabe picked up his football and played Keepie-Uppie all the way back to the house.
‘Oh, heavens,’ Juno whispered into Harry’s neck. The pony gave her and the empty dish a look of utter disdain, before wheeling round and cantering off at speed. ‘Well, you can shut up as well,’ she sniffed, before climbing down from the gate and going inside to find Fraser.
*
‘Why didn’t you ring, Fraser? Why on earth didn’t you let me know you were back for a few days?’ Juno closed the bedroom door behind her and folded her arms.
‘I’m not sure. To be honest, Juno, I didn’t need to come back for a meeting in Leeds.’
‘You didn’t?’
Fraser shook his head but didn’t say anything, instead neatly folding the clothes he’d travelled in and discarded for a clean shirt and sweater. ‘Where are the children?’ he eventually asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking, for the first time since he’d arrived back, directly at Juno.
‘Downstairs, watching TV. You know, to say you’ve not seen them for over three months, you’ve not shown them a great deal of attention.’ Or affection, she wanted to add.
‘Actually, Juno, there was so much going on down there this evening, I felt somewhat shell-shocked. I have to say, it was like coming back to a different world. All this drama? It all seems a bit over the top? Rather typical of your lot, I suppose, but I still don’t totally understand what’s been going on with you and all your sisters?’
Typical of my lot?
‘Join the club.’ Juno sat down beside him, her stomach churning as she tried to work out exactly where she was going to start with what she had to say to Fraser.
‘Juno, we need to talk.’
Oh hell, he knew what she’d been up to.
‘I don’t think you’ve been totally honest with me, have you?’
Juno didn’t answer. Let him come out with what he knew – surely the best plan of action without implicating herself too much?
‘For a start, this bathroom must have cost way more than the estimate you emailed me back in January?’
‘Sorry?’
‘The bathroom? Not really my cup of tea, you know, and it’s obviously gone way over the budget we agreed.’
‘Very probably,’ Juno murmured. Was Fraser really discussing the damned bathroom when there were clearly more important things at stake here?
‘And when you said you’d bring the children out to Boston for their summer break, I’m not convinced it was really your intention. Was it?’
‘Yes, yes, of course it was,’ Juno said hotly. No, no, it probably wasn’t, was what was really going through her head. Oh, poor Fraser, what had she done to him? He obviously felt so unloved. But this was no good. She had to tell him the truth.
‘Juno…’
‘Fraser…’ They spoke as one.
‘Look, Juno, there’s no easy way to say this. I’ve met someone else. I’m with someone else and I’m not coming back.’
‘Oh!’ Juno stared at Fraser who was finding it very difficult to meet her eyes. ‘Oh!’ she managed to get out once more.
‘I’m so sorrrry, Juno.’ Stress was making Fraser’s Scottish burr more pronounced. ‘You may have not been overrrrly honest with me, but I, blatantly, have been living a lie. I knew I was going to have to be a man, you know, be a man and fly 3000 miles back home—’ oh, glory be, had he been listening to The Proclaimers? ‘—and tell you to your face.’
‘Well, yes, thank you for that.’
‘And Laura said—’
‘Laura?’
‘Laura McCaskill. She’s a research chemist with me in Boston.’
‘Laura McCaskill?’ Juno frowned. ‘Wasn’t she in Leeds with you? Didn’t we sit with her at one of your company dinners last year? That really, really boring one where everyone on the table was discussing Recent Advances in Atomic Layer Division? And I came home and, to get over it all, got stuck into the box set of Outlander and a box set of Thorntons…?’
‘Deposition.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Recent Advances in Atomic Layer Deposition.’
‘Yes, that’s the one.’ Juno stared at Fraser. ‘So, this Laura McCaskill has been out in Boston with you?’
Fraser looked decidedly shifty. ‘She was already there when I arrived. She’d taken up a position with the Boston office in the summer.’
‘But she wanted you out there too?’
‘Look, I am trying to be honest here, Juno. Laura and I knew we had a lot in common when we met in Leeds. We’re both passionate about Polymer Bioconjugates.’
‘While I was just passionate about…?’
‘That Scottish Highlander in a Jacobean kilt.’ Fraser frowned. ‘But to be fair to you, Juno, you’ve always been totally passionate about the children – I really can’t fault you there – and… and sticky toffee pudding. You know, you were beginning to put on a bit of weight—’ he looked Juno up and down ‘—which you appear to have lost now. You’re looking wonderful, Juno. And your hair suits you like that, you know, curly, more natural. I do hope, Juno, you’ve not lost weight because of me? Worrying about me? Missing me? That would make me feel really bad.’
Ignoring this, Juno asked, ‘So the main reason you went out to Boston when they asked you…?’
‘I asked them.’
‘Right, OK, so the main you reason you asked them for a year in Boston was so you could be with this Laura McCaskill? Is that what you’re now telling me?’
Fraser nodded. ‘Laura said she was going, that it would make me think about what I wanted.’
‘What you wanted?’
‘Well, yes, was I prepared to break up my marriage for Laura?’
‘And now you realise you are?’
Fraser nodded dumbly and took Juno’s hand. ‘I’m so sorrrry, but Laura and I want to be together. We have so much in common.’
‘You said.’
‘And Laura, coming from Scotland, well, she really gets on with my mother.’
‘Laura’s met your mother? Bloody hell. When?’
‘We travelled back up to Aberdeen together – that conference last May? My mother joined us for dinner.’
And she actually gets on with her?’ Juno snorted. ‘Fucking hell.’
‘There really is no need for foul language, Juno. Laura never swears. But yes, they’re great pals. Get on like a house on fire.’ Fraser sighed. ‘And I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve not been the best father to Gabriel and Matilda. I’ve never really got the children like you have. I don’t really understand them.’ He paused and took Juno’s hand once more. His was warm, clammy but, after all, he was her husband: she didn’t feel it the done thing to pull her hand away, even while he was telling her he was going back to Boston to be with Laura and then, more than likely, they’d be relocating back up to the Aberdeen office together by the following year.
‘The thing is, Juno, you and I, we really have nothing in common, have we, you know, apart from the children? It’s really not been right between us for years. And, I have to say, living down here in Yorkshire, you know, in England, hasn’t really been my cup of tea.’ He paused, frowning. ‘You’re… what’s the word…?’
‘Frivolous? I think you once described me as frivolous. Is that the word you’re thinking of?’
He nodded, looking slightly ashamed. ‘You know, I want to see the children. There’s no reason why they can’t come out to Boston this summer. You could put them on the plane at Manchester and I’ll be there at the other end to meet them. Or—’ the thought had obviously only just come to him ‘—my mother could bring them out? Be with them there in the apartment when I’m at work?’
‘And leave her dogs and horses?’ As well as Tilda leaving Harry Trotter? Although Mr Donnington would be out of the equation by then, she mused. ‘We’ll see. You’ll have to put it to the kids. Now, do you think, perhaps, you should go down and talk to your children? See what they’ve been up to recently? And then – tomorrow I think, it’s too late now before their bedtime – we’ll have to explain things to them, together.’
‘You mean discuss how we’re going to share custody of them?’ Fraser screwed up his face. ‘You’re taking all this very well, Juno. I thought you’d be devastated, throwing things at me.’ He seemed slightly miffed that she hadn’t chucked a few things his way.
‘I hope we can be grown up about this, Fraser. As you say, we’ve not really had much in common over the years.’
And, while a part of Juno was feeling terribly sad – sad for her marriage, (she was picturing it as a living entity that, through no fault of its own, was suddenly being thrown into the recycling bin along with yesterday’s newspapers) and awfully, guiltily sad for her children who, through no fault of their own, were about to lose their father to an obviously unfrivolous (was there such a word? She must ask Tilda) Laura McCaskill – the main emotion that was whizzing round her brain was one of profound relief that she was no longer going to be living with a man she didn’t love, was no longer going to be living a lie.
‘I’m going to leave you with the kids,’ Juno said, standing up and patting Fraser’s shoulder, ‘while I pop over to Lexia’s and find out a bit more what’s happened down there this afternoon.’
‘At this time?’ Fraser looked at his watch, one, Juno realised, she’d never seen before. ‘It’s going up to nine. Do you not think it better you stay here and we discuss things – you know, money, what’s going to happen to the house, the mortgage…?’
‘I don’t think there’s anything to discuss with the house,’ Juno said tartly. ‘Now I’ve done the bathroom, I’m staying put. It’s the kitchen next. Look, Fraser, I know you’ll want to maintain the kids…’ Juno didn’t know anything of the sort – Fraser was looking decidedly nervous at the very notion of maintenance.
‘Of course, of course,’ Fraser hurriedly interrupted. ‘I’m aware of my responsibilities.’
‘But, if necessary, I’ll go back to work full-time. Now, I really do want to be with Lexia, she’s been through so much lately.’
‘But you’ve been drinking.’ Fraser frowned.
‘Yes, and rather a lot. I’ll ring for a taxi.’
‘Another taxi?’
‘Another taxi, Fraser. Now, Tilda is usually in bed by nine, Gabe not much later, although they’ll both argue the toss. Alright?’
‘Well,’ Juno said out loud, as she closed the kitchen door behind her, ‘you weren’t expecting that, Aunt Fanny!’ She buttoned up her jacket against the chilly April evening air and walked down to the garden gate to wait for the taxi, her mind reeling.
*
It was nearer ten by the time Den’s Cars, the village taxi firm, had deigned to send up another taxi to take Juno over to Lexia’s place. The long winding country lane, off the main road running through the village of Heath Green, had a couple of police accident signs and blue and white tape cordoning off an area near the top of the lane where the modern gated hamlet of five huge blonde-stoned houses stood in all their imperious, upmarket glory.
‘Summat’s up,’ the youngish driver said in excitement. ‘Summat’s going on. When I brought the other one over – your sister, is she? – there were still a couple of police cars here and they asked me where I was going.’ He seemed disappointed that he wasn’t going to be asked again, that he wasn’t going to be part of the investigation. ‘Theo Ryan’s place, isn’t it? And Lexia Sutherland? God, I loved her when I were fifteen. Had all her posters up on me bedroom wall. Spent more time with Lexia Sutherland – in me bedroom and in me head, of course—’ he gave a somewhat dirty laugh and looked pointedly down at his nether regions ‘—than with me own family when I were a kid.’
‘Right. How much do I owe you? I’ll need a lift back in an hour or so.’
Juno paid the driver who’d got out of the taxi, eager to accompany her up to the large black gates in order to find out more or, even better, to catch a glimpse of his teenage icon. Ariadne, standing at the door of Theo’s and Lexia’s house, beckoned her up the drive as the gates slowly swung back and open.
‘How is she?’ Juno closed the front door behind her and followed Ariadne, who appeared to have sobered up somewhat, along the magnificent cream-carpeted hall towards the kitchen where, several weeks ago, Juno had encouraged Manchester United footballers down Cillian, along with his soft-boiled egg.
‘How are you?’ Ariadne whispered. ‘Fraser found out about you and Scott Butler?’
‘No, but I’ve found out about Fraser and Laura McCaskill… long story, I’ll tell you later. How’s Lexia?’
‘Not looking her best.’
‘Well, no, I’m not surprised…’ As they walked into the kitchen and Juno saw Lexia sitting at the table, she stopped and stared, clapping a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lexia, what’s he done to you?’ Lexia’s right eye was a purplish black, almost closed, and her right arm, in her white T-shirt was badly bruised. ‘Has St Claire done this to you?’
‘Shhh,’ Lexia and Ariadne spoke as one. ‘There’s a policewoman still here. She’s just nipped to the loo.’
‘Can I get you a coffee or a nice cup of tea? Kettle’s on.’ The rather motherly woman standing by the huge Aga smiled at Juno.
‘Sorry, Juno, this is Lilian. You know, the lovely lady who babysits and does a bit around the house for us – for me.’ Lexia smiled fondly at the woman.
‘Ah, Mrs Doubtfire?’ Juno smiled also. ‘I know Harriet Westmoreland always calls you that, doesn’t she? You’re getting quite a reputation round here for being brilliant with kids.’
‘I don’t think it’s kids who need much looking after round here at the moment,’ Lilian Brennan said seriously in her lovely Irish brogue, nodding in Lexia’s direction. ‘I’ll just pop up and make sure the little one’s OK, Lexia, darling. I’ve made a fresh pot of tea.’
‘It wasn’t St Claire,’ Ariadne whispered. ‘We’re trying to keep it quiet that Lexia had anything to do with him in the past.’
‘It wasn’t St Claire that Theo knocked down?’ Juno stared. ‘Who was it then?’
‘No,’ Ariadne tutted irritably. ‘It was St Claire Theo knocked down and killed. It wasn’t St Claire who gave Lexia the black eye.’
‘Who was it then?’
‘To say you’re an intelligent, professional woman, Juno, you can be incredibly thick at times.’ Ariadne tutted once more.
‘It was Theo, Juno.’ Lexia attempted a little smile, but it was obvious she was near to tears.
‘But why? What had you done?’ Juno was totally mystified, couldn’t quite take it all in (there had been one hell of a lot to take in, this very strange evening) but then she saw red. ‘Theo’s done this? Theo? Where is he? I’ll have him. How dare he do this to you…? Where is the bastard…?’
‘I told him about Hugo. Told him how I’d had a baby when I was just sixteen and that my nephew, Hugo, was actually my son and, more than likely it was going to hit the papers any day. You know, once St Claire started telling his story, now that we’re refusing to give him any more money. Whether Theo was upset that I’d kept all this from him or whether it was because I’d given a shedload of money to St Claire over the years or, more likely, because all this was not going to make Theo Sutherland, ace footballer, look very good, he lost his temper and went for me. He’d been drinking as usual, how much I don’t know, but certainly there was alcohol on his breath.’
Lexia accepted the mug of tea Ariadne poured for her. ‘Anyway, Theo said I couldn’t possibly pick Cillian up from school looking like I did – terribly worried now, of course, at what he’d done to me – picked up my car keys and took off in my car to get Cillian.’
‘But if he’d been drinking,’ Juno frowned, ‘how could you let him go and pick up Cillian when he wasn’t fit to drive?’
‘I couldn’t stop him. I rang Little Acorns straight away, you know, to tell them not to let Theo pick up Cillian. All I got was the answer machine. I rang and rang and then decided to take Theo’s Porsche to pick him up myself. But his car wasn’t there. He’d been for a lunchtime drink with someone – probably one of his floozies – after training, and obviously left the car somewhere and got a taxi home. By the time I got through to school, Theo had picked him up and was driving home. Apparently, St Claire was skulking down the lane, off his head on something, jumped out at the car as it came back, presumably thinking it was me driving, and that was it.’
‘Oh, you poor thing, Lexia.’ Juno shook her head. ‘Everything’s happening at once to you.’ She paused. ‘Has Theo done anything like this before?’
‘He’s always been a bit rough with me. I guess he hates that I haven’t lived up to the dream he thought he was marrying. You know, the Sexy-Lexi in all the daft magazines. And, I’ve spent a lot of the past few years, particularly since Cillian was born, being very depressed, very anxious…’
‘Anyone would be anxious if they thought they were going to get a black eye like that every time their husband came home from work.’ Juno went to sit by Lexia, examining her injuries. ‘Anyone looked at this eye, Lexia?’
‘Lilian’s patched me up a bit. It’s fine.’ Lexia shrugged away Juno’s tentative fingers on her arm, reached for her sweater and pulled it on, covering her arms. ‘Anyway, as I was saying, to begin with we were fine, living the high life, enjoying our so-called fame. But then Theo would take it out on me, you know, if the manager had taken it out on him, or if he’d missed a penalty or something. Verbally to begin with and then a few bruises here and there. You know…’
‘No, we don’t know.’ The police constable from the Domestic Violence Unit came back into the kitchen, reaching for her jacket slung over a chair. ‘No one has to put up with this. Now, I can stay, Lexia or—’ she glanced at the kitchen clock ‘—now that your sisters and Mrs Brennan are here with you, I can push off. We’ve got the pictures of your injuries and your statement. I’m afraid this isn’t going to go away. The press will be swarming like flies once it all gets out. You’ve agreed that you’re happy for us to go to the Magistrates’ Court in the morning to take out a Domestic Violence Protection Order…’
‘What does that do?’ Ariadne asked.
‘Stops Mr Ryan having any contact directly or indirectly with Lexia for up to twenty-eight days. He’ll get one chance tomorrow, or the day after, to be accompanied back here by one of my colleagues to get as much stuff as he wants. After that he can’t. Any further restraining order Lexia wants to put in place after that will have to be passed by the magistrates.’
‘But Theo will want to see Cillian. He adores Cillian…’ A single tear rolled down Lexia’s cheek.
‘He’ll just have to see him through a third party, Lexia, not you. Through his solicitor, possibly. Once I’ve been to court tomorrow that’ll give you a chance to sort yourself a bit.’
‘Sort herself?’ Ariadne asked.
‘Where she’s going to live, what she wants to do.’
‘Can’t she live here?’ Ariadne asked. ‘It is her home.’
‘Yes, of course, if she wants…’
‘Will you all stop talking about me as if I weren’t here? As if I were a child?’ Lexia said, crossly. ‘I know exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going home.’
‘Home?’ Ariadne and Juno turned back to Lexia.
‘Mmm. Cillian and I are going to go home. Back home with Mum.’