The sun was low in the sky and it had been a balmy spring day. Rosalind walked slowly round the gardens of Destan Manor with Jonathon, a short stroll, so as not to overstrain her ankle. Dusty trailed behind them, sniffing at this and that, wagging his tail whenever someone looked his way. Rosalind felt more at peace with the world than she had done for a long time.
She bent to caress a patch of vivid purple aubrietia that tumbled over a low, grey stone wall above a clump of bright daffodils, then half-turned to smile at Jonathon. ‘These are so beautiful, aren’t they? I think I’ll do a Dorset garden in spring as one of my next pieces, with an art nouveau kind of lady in the centre, slender and elegant with sweeping skirts that tangle into the flowers till you can’t tell which is which.’
‘That sounds beautiful.’
‘It’s good sometimes to escape into fantasy art – though I enjoy capturing reality, too.’
She also enjoyed talking to someone who understood her references. Paul would have asked what she meant, Liz would have told her to do something from the twentieth century, and her children would just have shrugged and said, Yeah, yeah, very nice – no, Jenny might have been genuinely interested.
But Jonathon, well, he seemed tuned in to the same cultural things as she was. It was one of the many things which made him such an easy and pleasant companion.
As they reached the end of the alley, he took hold of her hand and swung her to face him. ‘I’ve been trying not to say this, but I can’t hold it in any longer. Rosalind, dearest Rosalind, you do realise I’ve fallen in love with you, don’t you?’
She stood and stared at him, mouth open. She had sort of realised it, she admitted to herself, but she hadn’t let herself face up to it. She hadn’t admitted to her own feelings, either. She was attracted to him, very, though she couldn’t understand how this had happened. She hadn’t encouraged him to be more than a friend, because she wasn’t the sort of person to be unfaithful. Only – she’d seen so little of Paul during the past year or two, and he seemed to have changed … and Jonathon was so … She didn’t let herself finish that thought.
Gnats drifted past them in a cloud, trailing a thin wailing sound that seemed to express exactly how she felt. She couldn’t be less than honest with him. ‘Oh, Jonathon, why didn’t I meet you twenty-five years ago?’
His voice was soft. ‘You were on the other side of the world and actually, I took a while to settle down, rebelling against the burden of all this.’ He waved a hand towards the house. ‘Then Dad died suddenly and it all came to me, so I had no choice. Later I fell in love with Isabel and I think she loved me at first, I really do! Though it’s hard to be sure now, after all the acrimony.’
He stared into the distance. ‘Only I wouldn’t wipe out my sons any more than you’d wipe out your children. We’ve both reaped the pleasure of children from our marriages, even if other things haven’t been – wonderful.’
As she met his solemn gaze, she tried to find the right words to answer him, but failed because her thoughts were in a total tangle.
‘But we’ve met now, Rosalind, and I don’t think you’re indifferent to me.’ He took her other hand and raised it to his lips, gazing into her eyes, trying to gauge her response. He saw only confusion.
Her voice was breathless, soft as everything else about her. ‘You must think I’m stupid, but I hadn’t realised until now how you felt – or how I felt, either. No,’ she corrected, determined to be absolutely honest, ‘I had realised, but I just hadn’t let myself admit it. I’ve never even looked at another man before, you see.’
He nodded. ‘You seem like the sleeping princess sometimes, slightly out of touch with reality. You’re not happy with Paul, though, are you?’
She stared blindly at the masses of colour around them. ‘No. I’m not happy with him and I haven’t been for a long time.’ She closed her eyes for a moment before saying the rest of it and facing things squarely. ‘He’s good in bed, but not much use as a husband and father. Well, you can’t be when you’re never there. And where he’s heading now isn’t where I want to go. I’m not even sure I can pretend any more, let alone follow him further up the corporate ladder.’
Silence whispered around them for a few moments, then she stretched out one hand to touch his cheek briefly. ‘I am attracted to you, Jonathon, but I’ve been married a long time and we’ve both been faithful, so Paul and I do share a bond of loyalty, if nothing else. I can’t just walk away from everything. Your marriage is over, you’re cut off from your sons and I can tell how that hurts you. If I left Australia, came to live in England, I might cut myself off from my children, too, and I don’t think I could bear that.’
And besides, Paul had cared enough about their marriage to arrange this second honeymoon, even if it had gone awry. She’d held on to that thought through her weeks of being angry with him.
She let her hand drop and walked on. Jonathon walked with her, not interrupting, allowing her time to think. Dusk closed in around them, encouraging her to more confidences. ‘Paul and I have admitted that we’ve grown apart and we’ve agreed to try to – get closer again. I have to give it a chance.’
‘And you’re not the sort to have an affair.’ To him it was part of her charm. ‘But would it upset you greatly if I kissed you? Just this once? I’ve been longing to for days.’
Without waiting for an answer, he drew her into his arms, holding her for a few moments to gaze down into her eyes. Love shone brightly in his face.
When he bent his head to kiss her, she gave in to temptation and with an inarticulate murmur, she put her arms round his neck. She didn’t hold back because she wasn’t going to do this again and wanted something to remember him by. When they stopped kissing, she rested her head on his shoulder and let him hold her for a long time.
At last he pulled away. ‘May I remain your friend, Rosalind? I promise I won’t pester or embarrass you about how I feel.’
‘You are my friend.’ She swallowed a hard lump that was sitting in her throat. How quickly she had grown to love this man. Love him? Yes, this was love. She couldn’t imagine life without him now, couldn’t bear the thought of going back to Australia and never seeing him again.
But she didn’t voice those thoughts because acting selfishly would mean hurting Paul and her children. She reached out to hold Jonathon’s hand, allowing herself that small pleasure, and together they strolled back through the softly shadowed gardens.
By now he knew her real preferences, so made her some coffee and said in a more normal tone, ‘I told you, didn’t I, that my sons will be visiting me for the fundraising fête?’
She was glad to talk of something else. ‘I shall look forward to meeting them.’
He stared down into his cup. ‘Isabel doesn’t like them staying here – she wants to stop all the family traditions and get Giles to break the trust when he grows up, but the more she keeps them away from Destan, the more the boys seem to love it.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘There’s an extra fascination in the forbidden, don’t you think? They come here every year at this time. That’s part of our divorce agreement. They think the fête is enormous fun.’
‘I’m looking forward to it, too. Perhaps you’d like to bring them round to tea?’ Twelve-year-old boys on their best behaviour could be delightful. Or utterly ghastly, if they were in an off mood. She could remember Tim at that age, before he’d withdrawn from any closeness with her.
‘I think it’d look better if I gave everyone tea here – you, me, Harry.’ He knew Isabel questioned the boys when they got back and would love to find an excuse to keep Giles and Rufus away from him in future.
As they drank their coffee and chatted quietly, Rosalind saw how his glances sometimes betrayed his feelings and wondered if hers did the same. She was very conscious of his body – and of her own. How short a distance his hand was from hers! She kept wanting to kiss him again. Or at least hold his hand.
But she didn’t.
And neither did he.
Tim took the money back to the dealer and handed it over.
‘Where’s the rest?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I gave you fifty packets. There’s money here for only forty. Where’s the rest?’
‘I don’t have any more.’ Tim’s mind raced back to his hour on the street. Wayne had come up to chat to him. They’d been laughing and horsing around a bit. Surely his friend hadn’t robbed him?
Who else could it be? No one else had touched him, and a serious thief would have taken all the dope.
‘Someone must have picked my pocket and—’
‘Do you think I came down in the last shower of rain?’ The dealer beckoned and two figures stepped out of the shadows.
Tim backed away, but the two men dragged him outside. One of them flung him hard against the wall, then punched him several times. When the fist slammed into his gut again, he was violently sick, unable to control himself.
‘Hell!’ said a voice up above his crouched body. ‘This bastard just puked all over my shoes.’
‘Kick him in the balls.’
Tim curled up, trying to protect himself. ‘Please, no! I won’t – it was an accident, losing those packets.’
A foot slammed into his back and pain exploded everywhere. ‘Make sure you don’t have any more accidents, man! And don’t push for no one else in this town. Got it?’
He screamed, but they ignored that and continued to beat him till he felt himself losing consciousness. He was sure by then that they intended to kill him.
He woke early next morning, surprised to find himself still alive and lying in an alley he didn’t recognise. It took him a while to drag himself painfully to his feet, for every inch of him seemed to hurt. Although people were passing the end of the alley, they didn’t come to help but hurried away when they saw him staggering round.
He leant against a wall and began to weep, but it didn’t make any difference. No one came to help him.
After a while, he stopped sobbing and staggered towards the street. Oh, hell, what was he going to do? Those bastards had emptied his wallet and money belt. Or someone else had.
He was only sure about one thing: he had to get out of town fast. He didn’t even dare go back to confront Wayne and pick up his clothes.
At first he stumbled blindly along the streets, but he found a ten-dollar note in an inside pocket and a stop at a burger joint for two cups of strong coffee helped him pull himself together. Another stop bought him some aspirin and the pain receded a little. It took him a while to work out what to do, but the only safe place he could think of was the cemetery, so he went there and hid among the tombstones, shivering every time he heard a car drive past.
Come nightfall, he’d retrieve his money and passport and leave town.
He was going back to Australia, even if he had to ring up and grovel to his father for the rest of the ticket money. And once he got there, he was never, ever going to leave it again.
After another disturbed night lying worrying, Audrey went into her granddaughter’s room and stared at the smooth, wrinkle-free bedcovers. Seven o’clock in the morning. Bed not slept in again. And no threat seemed to have any effect on Louise’s increasingly nocturnal habits.
The girl did clear up after herself now and do her washing more or less regularly. But that was a minor victory. Set it against Louise’s blatant refusal to keep reasonable hours or let her grandmother know where she was going – not to mention a certain glassy-eyed look the last couple of times she’d come in late … and Audrey knew she was beaten. As for studying, well, she suspected Louise was cutting classes as well, but couldn’t prove it.
It’s time for someone else to take over now, she decided. John’s right. I’ve given it a fair go, but I don’t intend to make a martyr of myself.
She waited until about four o’clock, to allow for time differences between the UK and Australia, then picked up the phone and rang Paul’s head office. It took a while to persuade them to give her his number in Hong Kong, but she did, because she was absolutely determined. Though he wasn’t going to like her telling them there was a problem with his younger daughter, she knew. Well, too bad. There was a problem.
When she got through to the hotel in Hong Kong, she felt lucky. Paul answered his room phone at the second ring. ‘Yes?’
‘It’s Audrey here.’
‘Ma-in-law! Hey, nice to hear from you. How are things?’
She grimaced as his voice took on that over-jolly, patronising tone he always used with her. How she hated it! ‘Not going well, so we’ll not waste time on chit-chat. Paul, I can’t cope with Louise any longer. You’ll have to make other arrangements for her.’
He sighed. ‘Have you rung Ros? The children are her business, really.’
‘No, I haven’t rung her and I’m not going to. You’re nearer to Perth by a few thousand miles than she is. I’ll expect you to fly down here at the weekend. You can take Louise away then. I’ve had more than enough of that young woman.’
‘Look, put her on the phone and I’ll have a very strong word with her. I promise you, I’ll make her so afraid she’ll—’
‘Not good enough, Paul. I’m sixty-seven not twenty-seven. I can’t cope and dammit, I won’t even try any more. You have until Saturday to fetch her.’
He scowled at the phone. Stupid old cow! ‘I can’t make it on Saturday, I’m afraid, Audrey.’
‘Then I’ll have to call social services, say she’s unmanageable and ask them to take her off my hands. She’s not eighteen yet, after all. I think they’ll be interested.’
‘You wouldn’t!’
‘I would, actually. I don’t want the police raiding my house looking for drugs or—’
‘Drugs?’
‘I’m pretty certain she’s taking something.’
‘I’ll be there on Saturday. Don’t tell her I’m coming. Let me surprise her.’ He’d surprise Liz, too, while he was at it. He’d missed her since she returned to Perth, missed her astringent conversation and sexy body. She’d been very firm about not continuing the relationship, but he was sure he could persuade her to see him while he was there. They’d been good together in the sack. If only Ros were more proactive about sex like Liz was.
As he put down the phone, anger sizzled through him and he thumped the pillow with one clenched fist. Bloody kids! You gave them the best of everything, private schools, expensive holidays, bicycles, and who knew what else – and what did they do to thank you? Went off the rails. Abandoned their studies. Got into drugs. Ran off to America.
Oh, hell, his youngest daughter was doing drugs like her brother. Why? Where had he and Ros gone wrong?
He sat down on the edge of the bed, chewing his lip. Unfortunately Audrey was right to ring him. This wasn’t something Ros would be able to cope with. In fact, Ros must have been weaker than he’d thought on the discipline side. First Tim, now Louise. And even Jenny had chosen a no-hoper of a guy when she was let loose on the world, though she’d had the sense to realise that and leave the fellow, at least.
He was going to nip this present mess of Louise’s in the bud right away, but first he had to figure out what you did with a seventeen-year-old rebel in Hong Kong?
It wasn’t until he was getting ready for bed that an idea struck him. He began to smile. Yes, that should sort it out nicely.
The following day he strode out of Perth Airport and hailed a taxi. At Audrey’s he paid off the driver and turned to find his mother-in-law waiting for him at the door. They didn’t waste time on greetings.
‘Louise is still asleep,’ Audrey said in a low voice. ‘She didn’t get back until about four o’clock this morning.’
Something caught his eye and he didn’t follow her inside. ‘What the hell is Ros’s car doing here?’
‘Louise has been using it. She said Rosalind gave her permission.’ Audrey’s heart sank. Oh no, not more lies! And Paul looked so grimly angry today she hardly recognised him.
‘Ros definitely didn’t do that.’ She’d have told him if she had. She’d told him every other goddamn detail of her preparations for England in those boring letters she wrote weekly when he was away. She hardly ever used emails, and hadn’t bothered to get online in England, or if she had, she hadn’t told him, and she would have done.
He was going to drag her into the twenty-first century, even if she screamed all the way. He pushed those thoughts aside. He had to deal with his daughter first.
‘Tell me the details about Louise.’ He listened in growing fury, then said in a tight, clipped voice, ‘You stay here and I’ll go upstairs. This may take a while. You were absolutely right to send for me. You – er, might like to put the radio on. There will definitely be some shouting.’
As he opened the door of Louise’s bedroom, he stared round in disgust at the mess. Dirty clothes on the floor, litter everywhere. By the side of the bed was a cotton thing that looked like a shoulder bag made from a flour sack, so he upended it on the desk by the window. A small packet of what looked like herbs fell out. He sniffed it. Pot. Pray that was all she was on. But there were a few pills, too. He didn’t know enough about drugs to guess what they were.
He began to search the drawers and all the time his daughter slept peacefully behind him, looking as innocent as the child she had been not long ago. There was also a packet of condoms. Bile rose in his throat. His daughter screwing around. At seventeen! How had she got into all this?
He stood by the bedside, contemplating the child who had always been his favourite, the one who looked most like him. She appeared innocent and pretty still, sprawled on her side with one hand curled beneath her cheek. But she wasn’t innocent, she was spoilt, dirty.
What was that? He bent closer and saw the ring in her nose, the streaks of dirty blonde on one side of her hair. She looked so tarty that for a moment disgust rose like vomit in his throat. Then he reached out and shook her – hard.
‘Hey! Wh-what? Dad!’ She jerked upright in the bed. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Your grandmother phoned. It seems, Louise, that you’ve been upsetting her, as well as burning the candle at both ends.’ He flicked one finger towards the things on the desk.
She gasped and stared at him, her eyes large and frightened, but didn’t say anything.
‘I thought you had a little more sense, but you didn’t waste much time following Tim’s example, did you?’
Her voice was sulky. ‘Everyone does something nowadays. It’s only dope.’
‘And the tablets?’
‘Amphetamines. To help me keep my weight down.’ They gave you the most lovely feeling of energy and optimism, too. Pity they were so expensive. ‘They’re not hard drugs, Dad.’
‘I don’t expect my children to do any drugs. Hard or soft.’
She laughed, a shaky, nervous sound. ‘They’re no worse than alcohol. The law’s stupid. This is the twenty-first century, not the—’
She didn’t finish what she was saying because he slapped her across her face, hard, then slapped her again.
After an initial screech, she cowered down on the bed, sobbing noisily.
‘I’ve never hit you before, Louise. Perhaps I should have.’ He reached out and held her at arm’s length, forcing words past the anger that seemed to have solidified in his throat. ‘Now listen, and listen well, young woman.’ He gave her another shake for emphasis. ‘I learnt my lesson with Tim. I overlooked this and overlooked that – and he carried on mucking around. Heaven knows where he is now – whether he’s still alive, even.’
She looked at him in horror.
‘Surely that possibility had occurred to you? America can be a dangerous place. He hasn’t been in touch for months.’ And Paul worried about that, though he hadn’t said so to Ros.
Louise stared up at her father and waited for more harsh words – or more slaps. He shook her again, but less violently, then said in a tight, angry voice.
‘I’m not going down the same path with you, Louise. I trusted Tim to grow out of his silliness and he ran away instead, got in deeper. You have a simple choice ahead of you, really simple. Behave yourself – and I’ll be watching closely, so don’t think you can pull the wool over my eyes as you have your mother’s – or get out of my life and family this minute. I shan’t give you a second chance, either.’
She could only goggle at him. Get out of the family! He couldn’t mean that. But she saw the grim determination in his eyes and realised with a jolt that he did.
He leant forward until his face was almost touching hers. ‘Do you believe me? Do you believe that I mean exactly what I say, Louise?’
She nodded, gulping.
He moved back and stood there with arms folded. ‘Right then, it’s entirely your choice. If you don’t toe the line from now on, I’ll cut you off from the family within the hour – and push you out of your grandmother’s front door myself.’
The chairman would have recognised him. The chairman really approved of the way Stevenson cut through the crap when it was necessary. So would one or two cheating managers whose thieving Paul had uncovered, and whom he had sent packing there and then.
But Louise had never seen her father like this and she looked, quite literally, terrified. Good. He wanted her terrified.
‘D-dad, don’t!’
He looked at his watch. ‘I’ll give you exactly one minute to decide, Louise. Not one second longer. After all, it’s a very simple choice.’
She started sobbing.
‘And weeping won’t make any difference at all.’ Implacable, he waited until she capitulated – as he’d known she would.