Maddie rummaged through her wardrobe looking for an outfit to wear to the barbecue at the Dymocks’. She checked the forecast for the umpteenth time: it still said sunny during the afternoon and 22 degrees, down to 21 by 6pm with a few scattered clouds. It looked like she could wear summer clothes but with something to put over her shoulders if the temperature went any lower than forecast. She swished her work clothes to one side of the clothing rail to assess what was suitable. She had few casual clothes other than jeans and t-shirts. All right for someone in Jade’s age group to wear to the barbecue. Not her.
Her final pick of a knit top in pastel blues and greens determined wearing pale blue trousers over white sandals and carrying a white cardigan and her summer white shoulder bag. Yes.
Wayne was always a problem. He despised fussing over clothes at the best of times, finally agreeing to wear beige cargo pants and a collared polo shirt in a dark blue. Even Jade seemed relieved he was wearing more conventional clothing than usual.
Jade had put on black jeans as Maddie predicted, and over them she was wearing a sleeveless black t-shirt, but a new one with a swirl of gold sequins in front. Youthful, pretty and almost summery. The first non-plain black non-long sleeved top Maddie had seen on her daughter in too long. She had on eye makeup but no lipstick and her natural freckles were showing. Fingers crossed the Goth period was fading.
The Brooks family arrived at Ham Common just after four-thirty. The afternoon sunshine on the Dymock house highlighted the last remaining but still magnificent blooms of a gigantic wisteria which almost obliterated the white render of the substantial two storied house. They approached the formal portico and saw the door was open.
“Come in, come in,” Sharon called from somewhere within. “Go straight through to the back garden.” She appeared briefly to give air kisses to Maddie and Jade and a perfunctory hug for Wayne waving them towards a wide terrace outside at the back.
Already about twenty people were talking in small groups, wine glasses in hand. Donald came over to welcome them, shepherding them into a conservatory to one side of the back of the house where wine, glasses and various nibbles were laid out.
Jade disappeared with Freya; Wayne joined a group of men talking football and Donald turned his attention to Maddie.
“I really like this house,” she said to him. “It’s absolutely delightful from the street, lovely and airy inside and these extensions here in the back are modern, beautiful and useful.” She paused. “Sorry, I’m gushing. But I do love it.”
“A family house. Grandparents, then parents and finally me. I’m lucky.”
“You are indeed,” Maddie agreed with enthusiasm. “But look what you’ve done back here. These extensions are recent, I presume. And a gorgeous blend in keeping with the rest of the house. Besides being up to the minute in style.”
“I think you’re wasted as a Probation Officer,” Donald said. “You should be in real estate.”
She held up her glass to clink with his. “I’ll drink to that.”
“You have a lovely daughter,” he said. “Intelligent, slim, athletic and stunning looking. She must make the boys spin in their adolescent angst.”
Maddie was startled. He was talking about Jade? Her Jade? Skinny, almost no hips or boobs, straight badly died black hair, shy. Looking almost pre-pubescent. What planet was he on? “Well, thank you, Donald,” she said. “I guess a mother sees her teenaged daughter as just a slightly older little girl.”
He gave a hearty laugh. “Yes, there’s the little girl still in her – long may it last.”
“It’s lovely our two daughters are such good pals.”
He raised his glass to her. Maddie clinked glasses, just ever-so-slightly disturbed.
“Your work must be interesting,” he said. “And I hear you’re involved with that guy who attacked one of our schoolgirls way back when. Freed rather briefly, I gather, and now back inside after our little murder. Very sad. I’m not sure about releasing sex criminals into the community.”
Maddie cursed Jade for talking about what should be totally private. Cursed herself for trusting her. Then realised Freya was often at home with Jade. Freya. Dammit. A direct conduit straight to her. She kicked herself. She’d have to be much more discreet.
She decided not to get into a debate about the probities of parole. “My work is interesting, and I do meet some famous, or rather, infamous people,” she said. “Yes, the awful murder of the young schoolgirl. The police have some suspects. Given the schoolgirl attacker of yore is back in prison, I guess we can assume he’s on the list.” She smiled, knowing she hadn’t given him a single morsel of new information.
“I gather you’ve had some trouble at work,” he said. “Hope it’s not serious.”
Proof Freya had been talking. “Nothing a good temper tantrum won’t cure,” she said lightly then decided to divert the conversation before it got awkward. “I hear you descend from one of William the Conqueror’s knights.”
“Not proven, but probable,” he said. “Those times are fascinating. Our name, Dymock was spelled various ways back then like Dymoke or Dimmock. It’s a combination of two words: ‘Dim’ means fort or manor and ‘ock’ comes from the old English word for oak. So, Dymock is Oak Manor.”
“Old English, not French.”
“Interesting you should say that. History records a Dimmock Manor in Lincolnshire was owned by a Nicholas de Dimmock about a hundred years after William the Bastard invaded. It’s quite possible that Nicholas’s great great grandfather was a knight who was awarded Dimmock Manor by a grateful William. Thus Nicholas was known as de – ‘of’ or ‘from’ – Oak Manor.”
Maddie laughed politely along with Donald. “I guess genealogy has passed me by,” she said. “Not that I’m incurious about where I’ve come from, but because when you’re descended from peasants, nobody records much of anything.”
“Oh, I’m sure there are many famous Brooks’ ancestors,” he said.
Sharon called him to start the barbecue and he was away before Maddie could reply that Brooks would have been the name of Wayne’s ancestors, not hers.
She stood in the conservatory doorway looking out over the scene. She spotted Jade and Freya in a group of young people sitting on a grassy spot under a large apple tree near the Dymock’s small curved swimming pool; Wayne was now talking to an attractive young blonde woman on the terrace with groups forming and re-forming around them and Sharon and Donald were fussing with food near the barbecue.
They were an attractive couple. Sharon was tall and slim, still looking like the model she once was and Donald was muscular, with his forearms bulging under the short sleeved shirt he was wearing over long khaki shorts and trainers. He looked like an Aussie, even though it was Sharon who was born in Australia. Actually, he looked every inch of how a gym teacher should look.
The golden couple turned to make their way towards Maddie, joining her at the top of the steps into the conservatory. “Going to give a little speech,” he said with an apologetic smile.
Maddie got the message. “I’ll just join the throng.” She spotted Wayne again and made her way to him, telling him Donald and Sharon where about to speak to them all.
“Friends,” Donald said in a voice she could imagine he could use to quieten a gym full of unruly teenaged girls. “We’ve invited you here today so we can tell you about some plans of ours. Plans about what we’re about to do in the near future.” He turned to Sharon and, with one arm, hugged her to him. “My dear wife, as you know, is in the fashion business. She’s just been offered a wonderful opportunity to transfer across the pond. She’s to be the collection manager for her firm in New York City.”
People reacted with clapping, moans and ‘oh, no’s.
“Of course, we didn’t tell anybody, including the upper management until we knew I could get a position in New York as well. I’m no house-husband.”
Laughter.
“And, I’m here to tell you, come September, I’ll be starting as a phys ed teacher with a private Episcopalian school on Long Island. Sharon will start her Manhattan job and Freya hasn’t made up her mind yet. She’s applied to various universities here and we’re encouraging her to apply over there just in case she wants to join us.”
Maddie searched for Jade in order to see her face but too many people were in the way. How had Freya kept this secret? She’d know Jade would be devastated.
Donald was talking again. “Yes, it will mean leaving ole Blighty, but we’re not selling up here. Who knows how we’ll like it over there? And who could give up this?” He held out his arms to encompass his manor, oaks or no oaks.
Of course, from then on, the only topic of conversation was this surprising announcement.
Maddie took her too-full plate of food over to one of several picnic tables on the grass near the pool. She wasn’t a plate-on-your-lap sort of eater at the best of times. Especially not when she was wearing this particular knit top. She joined several others who felt the same way. When she walked over to replenish her wine glass, she again paused at the doorway of the conservatory. Now, the sun was more westerly and soaking the world in yellowing light. Donald was again at the barbecue cooking yet more steaks, his light brown hair now a burnished gold.
She stared. No. No, it couldn’t be. She broke out in a cold sweat. Looked away. Looked back. Tried to banish the thought. Donald. Late sunshine highlighting his hair. Interested in genealogy. Looking now, in his shorts and trainers and at the barbie, like an Aussie. Or, looking like a farmer on the veldt.
Maddie grabbed another glass of red and headed back to the table. The conversation was back to New York City, ex-mayor Rudy Giuliani, crime and American politics. She joined in, all the while watching out for Wayne. When she spotted him, he was leaning over Sharon who was arching back as far as she could. Maddie leapt up and headed over to rescue her.
“Hi, Wayne,” she said slightly loudly. “Sorry, Sharon, I’m here to take the boy home.”
Grateful eyes met hers. “See you soon, Wayne. Lovely to have had you here.”
“Evening’s only sh – started. Haven’t had food yet,” he said, tipping his glass up and finishing whatever it was.
Maddie took the glass. She could smell it. Whisky. Probably neat.
“We’re off home,” she said firmly. Into his ear, she said, “You’re drunk. Okay? Time to head home.” She spotted Jade and signalled her to help. The two of them marched Wayne to the car and threw him into the back seat. Maddie mentally counted the glasses of wine she’d imbibed and decided to pay strict attention to her driving and to keep off the main roads.
“Dad, you’re disgusting,” Jade said, struggling to shove his legs in so she could close the door. “Ruining what was a really good party. Why did you have to drink so much?” Her voice rose in anguish. “Tell me that! Why, bloody, why?”
Wayne answered with a crescending snore.
Jade turned to her mother. “Why can’t he be more like Donald?”