Sunday 28 October, 1.30 p.m.
‘Dear boy.’
Joanna saw Matthew in a different light when they were with his parents. And though she would have preferred to do almost anything else on a Sunday, somehow every couple of weeks or so they found themselves in this small bungalow, only a stone’s throw from Briarswood, the large, Victorian semi they had recently moved into and which, to Joanna at least, didn’t yet feel like home. But here they were, guests of Peter and Charlotte, Matthew’s parents. Warm to him, frosty to her, positively effusive towards their granddaughter who seemed to be included on the invites. Even Eloise’s boyfriend, the bespectacled Kenneth, got a warmer and more civil greeting than she did.
‘Joanna,’ said in a haughty, cold voice. ‘Hello. How are you?’ And without waiting for her response, Charlotte added, ‘Come in.’
She’d have treated a Jehovah’s Witness more cordially.
Charlotte was a thin woman who looked thinner when her eyes rested on her daughter-in-law. But her cheeks actually flushed with pleasure when they rested on the other members of the family. Today she was wearing a cherry-red sweater and loosely fitting grey trousers. Matthew got a kiss on both cheeks – his parents could be hugely affectionate towards their only son, his sister being a ‘sad disappointment’.
The days generally followed a rigid format. Peter shook hands with Matthew and they were led into the day room. From the kitchen came a mouth-watering scent of the Sunday roast – beef one week, lamb the next, and on bank holidays and special occasions roast chicken with homemade stuffing, which Charlotte always made herself and also always announced that fact. At least the food was good.
Eloise and Kenneth got a glass of sherry, Matthew a beer, while Peter started on the red wine and Charlotte a cup of Earl Grey, but she had the choice of Earl Grey, dear, or a soft drink?
Joanna opted for the soft drink. She might as well have opted for bread and water for the relish she felt for elderflower cordial, though Charlotte’s roast did smell appetizingly good and she was starving.
Did she and Matthew have to spend their precious free time together here?
And yet … She looked across at her husband, ruffled honey-coloured hair, long legs stretched out in front of him, wide grin as he, his father, Eloise and Kenneth, medics all, discussed a recent breakthrough in the treatment and diagnosis of multiple sclerosis. The medical advance appeared to be exciting them all. She was seized with an impulse to cross the room, sit on her husband’s lap, kiss those full lips and rumple his hair. He caught her eye and for a millisecond his eyes were warm on hers and she almost imagined he read her thoughts because a mischievous little smile bent his lips further and lit up his eyes. He took a sip of his beer and wiped his lips, still looking at her.
So what would Charlotte, thin faced, thin lips, bent in disapproval, wiping her hands on her apron as she entered the room and announcing lunch was served, have made of that little exchange, Joanna wondered, smiling herself. What if any of them could read her mind as they all made their contribution to the conversation, which had dropped into scientific language and was, to her, as impenetrable as a hedge of thorns?
Synapse? Acetylcholine? Beta-2 receptors? Helper T cells?
Charlotte looked around her, happy as a mother hen regarding her brood. ‘Moving down here to Leek,’ she said, a hand stretching out to touch her son’s cheek, ‘was the best thing we ever did.’
‘Here, here.’ Eloise raised her glass, as did her father and grandfather. Only Kenneth met Joanna’s eyes and gave the slightest of smiles which indicated, by raised eyebrows, a question.
And then Matthew blew it. ‘And here’s to my healthy son.’ This time it was Eloise who didn’t join in and Kenneth, his eyes behind thick glasses, still perceiving all, met hers again while Matthew continued, obliviously happy. ‘I’ve even chosen a name.’ Sometimes, she thought, particularly when ecstatic, he could be so obtuse, so blind to all but his own delights. Couldn’t he feel the permafrost directed at her by three members of his family?
Probably not.
Resentful, Joanna lifted her gaze and stared right into those green goblin eyes. Even Peter and Charlotte looked startled. ‘So what is it?’
And Matthew, still not seeing what was right under it, tapped his nose. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘That would be telling. And besides …’ And now, at last, he did look at Joanna. ‘Besides,’ he resumed with a grin. ‘That would be inviting bad luck.’ Joanna swallowed back a retort. She didn’t like exposing any weakness in their relationship in front of Matthew’s parents or Eloise.
Adding to her discomfort, Charlotte, her mother-in-law, managed to put her foot straight in it.
‘And you’re still working, Joanna?’ How did she manage to inject so much poisoned syrup into the question?
‘I’m doing mainly desk duties.’
Matthew was giving her a stormy look as he absorbed her sulky tone. ‘Joanna,’ he said, not without a touch of malice, ‘is searching for that old man who has apparently gone AWOL along with his teddy bear from a residential home.’
‘Oh, that case?’
Thank you, Charlotte.
Eloise couldn’t resist making her contribution. ‘Haven’t you found him yet?’ Her tone was scornful but before Joanna could dredge up a suitable response, her stepdaughter continued, ‘Honestly, Joanna, how difficult can it be? He’s ancient. He can’t have gone far.’
Then you fucking well find him.
For once Charlotte made an attempt to soften the insult. ‘It is rather strange that you haven’t found him.’
I’m not exactly working alone, Joanna thought tumultuously.
Somehow she maintained her dignity and her frostiness. ‘Yes,’ she said, in a calm and polite tone of which she was very proud, ‘we all realize this. A lot of time and manpower has been spent searching the immediate area. You’re right. It is odd. He can’t have gone far.’
Peter, in the crassest manner, tried to make a joke of it. ‘I wonder which you’ll find first,’ he chortled, ‘the old man or his teddy.’
Unsurprisingly no one laughed, although Kenneth’s mouth gave a suspicious twitch.
And now, even Joanna could see the funny side of things. She glanced across the table at Matthew. The corner of his mouth was also twitching and she realized he was suppressing a smile and her heart warmed towards him. She gave him a ghost of a smile back and for a moment they were two people who loved each other, depended on one another and would soon be bonded and joined by another. The Little Stranger.
And then the spell was broken. ‘Gramps …’ Amazingly, was it Eloise who was about to restore the status quo?
Her grandfather turned to look at her, his face soft with indulgence.
Eloise scooped in a deep breath and gave Joanna a sly glance. ‘Will you and Granny come to my graduation next year?’
So the apparently ‘innocent’ question was anything but. (Was anything Eloise said ever innocent?)
Eloise opened her mouth and eyes wide. Peter and Charlotte exchanged an uncomfortable look while Matthew frowned and appeared to freeze.
And Eloise continued, triumphant now. ‘I know they say only parents.’ One of those little simpers was aimed at Matthew. ‘You’ll be there, won’t you, Daddy?’
For once Matthew could see exactly where this was heading. ‘Of course.’ He kept his voice steady but his look shifted towards Joanna, at the same time raising questioning eyebrows. Since she’d been pregnant he’d seemed to want her mood to remain calm and optimistic, as though that would ensure a healthy environment for his child to be born into. He sensed this was about to threaten his carefully manufactured status quo. And erupt.
Eloise couldn’t stop the triumph from spreading across her face like soft butter on hot toast. ‘And Mummy.’
Nothing on earth would have persuaded Joanna to attend Eloise’s graduation, but she still felt the girl’s malice. In the future there would be a few occasions, all connected with their daughter, when mother and father would need to be together.
Perceptive too, Kenneth was frowning as Eloise delivered her final shot. ‘And you, Joanna, of course, will be busy with the baby.’ A covert glance at Matthew. ‘Unless, of course,’ she almost sang out her next sentence, ‘you’re already back at your beloved work.’
Surprisingly, Matthew actually recognized the depth of her malice. He put his knife and fork down with a clatter. ‘That’s enough, Eloise,’ he said sharply. ‘You don’t need to keep goading Joanna.’
And now it was Joanna’s mouth that had dropped open. She almost felt like applauding this first, until she realized he wasn’t so much protecting her as protecting the mental state of the mother of his unborn ‘son’. And possibly the unborn ‘son’ too. Her mood spiralled downwards.
She almost clasped her hands together across the bump, hoping it was a son. To have a daughter anything like Miss Eloise would be the worst conceivable fate. She couldn’t imagine anything more horrendous. It would be like parenting Damian from The Omen.
Kenneth also put his knife and fork down and raised his hands. At first Joanna wondered whether he was about to applaud Matthew’s defence of her, until she saw his long, bony fingers spread out in a Halt sign and realized it was directed at Eloise. She wanted to warn him. Careful. If you want your relationship with Miss Eloise to continue undamaged, you don’t challenge her on the subject of her stepmother.
And then Peter put another two penn’orth in. ‘You’ll have to make certain you pass before you start issuing invitations, Eloise.’
Charlotte’s contribution was: ‘Apple crumble, anyone?’