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“Porridge, love?” Juliet called up the stairs.
A low groan was all that emerged from the bedroom until twenty minutes later, when slow heaving footsteps heralded the arrival of a sheepish Tom, dressed in a smart shirt and trousers ready for work. Juliet had already made his porridge and set it to keep warm in the Aga. Quite versatile, these Agas, she’d decided, after making herself some toast on the open hotplate, although too fussy and showy for anyone other than farmers who needed their warming cupboard to revive new-born lambs. They’d make the kitchen far too hot other than in winter. Even though it was still early in the day, the kitchen was unpleasantly close already. In the summer, it must be positively Saharan.
Even so, Juliet was feeling refreshed and revitalised. On waking an hour before, she had indulged in an energising shower beneath the rainfall setting of the elaborate head in the en suite, making extravagant use of the expensive gel and body lotions on the bathroom shelves. The cubicle alone was almost as big as her whole bathroom at home. After cleaning her teeth (fortunately, she’d found a new head for the electric toothbrush, so that she didn’t have to use Tom’s wife’s), she ran her tongue over her newly-filled tooth. There was no filling. The tooth was still whole.
Returning to the bedroom where Tom slept on, she chose from the wardrobe a timeless sea-green floral tea dress. Paired with a soft, faded denim jacket and lavender suede pumps, it made the perfect outfit for a beautiful spring day. Juliet hoped the dress would still fit her once she’d left the house. She didn’t want to do an Incredible Hulk act, bursting her buttons if her life-preserver returned in front of the mechanics at Dave’s Magic Motor Repairs.
“Porridge,” echoed Tom, as if trying to convince himself he had an appetite for it. Shoulders hunched, he sank on to a high stool at the breakfast bar.
Juliet beamed as she set in front of him a crystal tumbler of freshly squeezed orange juice, having earlier discovered that the squat shiny cylinder beside the coffee machine was an electric juicer.
“What a lovely healthy start to the day!” she declared, dropping a pod into the coffee maker.
She’d mastered that gadget the night before while making after-dinner coffee for herself and Veronica, while Tom helped himself and Henry to brandy. Henry had left his glass untouched, so Tom had downed it.
As Juliet pressed the on button, Tom flinched at the sound of the motor. Juliet suppressed a smile. He’d be in for a lot worse than that when he reached his surgery.
Leaving Tom eating in sullen silence, Juliet took her own coffee out on to the terrace to enjoy the view of the post-dawn glory of the garden. The lawn was still damp with dew, and the lilac blossom sparkled in the early morning sun.
She slipped off her suede pumps to avoid matting their nap on the wet grass and strolled down the terrace steps and across the lawn. The bench beneath the lilacs had already dried in the sunshine, so she sat down without a care and gazed back up at the vast, elegant house.
This could have been her domain, if only she’d let Tom walk her home that night after the school disco. It was far too big for a family of four, though. Too much to clean, to furnish, to maintain, even if she didn’t have to go out to work. It was the sort of house that would enslave you. Big properties were not all they were cracked up to be, especially when still owned by several mortgage companies. No wonder he had to accept his parents’ charity to pay the kids’ school fees.
As for Tom, he was far more high maintenance than she’d expected. Gorgeous and charming when he wanted to be, but at what cost to herself? No job, no freedom, no say in what really mattered in her life. Remembering the lavish wedding photo in the study, she realised his parents had probably paid for all that, too. Her own mother could not have afforded it. Veronica probably picked up the tab on condition that she could art-direct the wedding to impress her friends.
So Tom was not The One after all. Might she have been happier had she married any other old flames? Would any of them truly have been able to offer her the sort of life she craved?
A large ginger cat leapt down from the neighbour’s wall and trotted over to join her.
“No,” she said aloud to the cat. “Only I can do that.”
“Meow,” replied the cat, rubbing its cheek against her bare legs.
“How?” echoed Juliet. “I’m not sure, but I have a feeling I’m about to find out.”
When she leaned back to think, the cat leapt up and settled on her lap. She was still stroking its soft back when Tom appeared on the terrace, jangling his car keys in his hand. He forced a smile, still not admitting to his hangover.
“That’s me gone now, Gems,” he called, blowing her a kiss.
Feeling sorry for him now, she kissed her hand to him.
“Goodbye, Tom” she said, more to the cat than anyone.
While he started the Lexus and reversed down the drive and into the lane, Juliet remained in the garden. Did he even own that fancy car, she wondered, or was it an expensive lease and another drain on his resources?
She glanced at her watch. Just gone eight. On a working day, by now she’d be on the bus to her job at the library. She was always happy to return to work after her days off; although it was a job without prospects.
But today, her priority was to return the Mini to Dave, ready for his next borrower. As she still didn’t know exactly where Tom’s house was, she was unsure how long it would take to get back to Cirencester, so she decided to set off straight away. She scooped the cat off her lap and set it down gently on all fours. Purring, it settled to wash its paws while she picked up her mug and walked back to the patio, pausing only to pick a sprig of lavender for her buttonhole.
In the kitchen, she helped herself to a vintage wicker shopping basket and dropped in an apple from the overloaded fruit bowl, a bottle of French sparkling water from the big fridge, her handbag and car key. Then she went to take a last look around the study.
In the light of last night’s experience, the big wedding photo was even more gruesome than she’d remembered. Clearly uncomfortable in her expensive dress, she must have spent the whole reception in fear of spilling something down her front.
In the picture of Eleanor and Edward with Veronica and Henry, the children looked as if they were being photographed under duress. If Veronica could make Juliet squirm as a grown-up, how difficult she must make life for her poor grandchildren.
In the holiday photos of Tom and herself, their smiles looked forced and phoney. Perhaps neither of them had wanted to go to the destination dictated that year by Veronica.
Without more ado, Juliet turned her back on them all and headed for the front door. The Mini was gleaming beneath a spritz of dew. She unlocked the door, slid comfortably into the leather seat and set her basket down on the passenger side before fastening her seatbelt. As soon as she turned on the ignition, the satnav screen lit up and Juliet pressed the “home” button.
More rain overnight had refreshed the winding country lanes, and the hedgerows were gleaming and buoyant beneath the morning sun. At the first sound of the satnav’s voice that had reminded her so much of Tom’s, she switched to the female alternative. This voice sounded strong and intelligent, like the sort of person Juliet would choose as a friend. In fact, it was not unlike Maisie’s.
Together, they proceeded at a leisurely pace, Juliet enjoying the satnav lady’s insightful observations on the scenery and losing all track of time until they joined the Cirencester ring road from the Burford direction. At 10.59am precisely, the purple Mini glided neatly into the space reserved for the courtesy car at Dave’s Magic Motor Repairs.
Still relaxed from her interesting and informative journey, Juliet smiled warmly at the mechanics as she stepped out of the car. She was pleased to notice they just smiled back and waved, rather than greeting her by her unwelcome nickname. One of the mechanics was singing along to a golden oldie playing on the radio, the first record she’d bought as a teenager all those years ago.
Juliet marched across the car park and tapped lightly on the door of Dave’s office. Perching on Dave’s stool was a man with his distinctive crinkly hair and beard, but now they were nut-brown. What hard work it must be to dye his hair when there was so much of it. Yet it was a flattering look, the colour making his complexion far less lined and his eyebrows less bushy. Dave looked as if he’d been professionally photoshopped.
He interrupted her thoughts. “Nice drive, love?”
Juliet hesitated, wondering how much he might know of what she’d just been through. She chose her words carefully.
“Beautiful scenery. Useful thinking time.”
Dave nodded his approval.
“Yes, it’s a good little car for a solo journey.” He put his head on one side. “I’m surprised you decided to bring it back.”
Juliet gave a wistful smile as she set the Mini’s keys reverently on the counter. “I wish I didn’t have to. It’s much nicer than Rob’s car.”
She glanced at the pegboard on the wall, searching for Rob’s distinctive key, but it wasn’t there. Dave slapped his hand to his forehead.
“Sorry, love, I’ve just remembered. The replacement lamp for your car didn’t come in with our delivery yesterday afternoon, so we’ve not had the chance to fix it yet. In fact, it may take a little while to come in as it’s a non-standard part. Of course, it’s illegal to drive as it is now, so I’m afraid you’ll have to hang on to the Mini for a bit longer.”
Juliet’s face lit up. “That’s fine by me. But what about the customer who’s meant to have it from eleven today?”
Dave looked down at his appointments diary and jabbed a finger at the name against 11am.
“You’re in luck, love. Just before you arrived, he phoned to cancel.” He pulled a pen from the top pocket beneath his beard and struck a line through the name. “In fact, he’s poorly, so he’s not sure when he’s going to be in now. So you can keep the Mini as long as you like.”
“Oh well, if you’re sure...”
“No trouble to me, love.”
Before Dave could change his mind, Juliet scooped up the Mini’s keys and clutched them to her chest. As she turned to go, Dave called after her, “Nice dress, by the way, love, if you don’t mind me saying.”
She glanced down at the tea dress, which flared elegantly from her slender waist.
“Thanks, Dave. I’ll see you, er, whenever.”
Dave smiled.
“Whenever is just fine.”
As she left the office, her head began to fill with fond memories of the old purple Mini that had been her first car. She’d been sad to sell it to pay for her and Rob’s honeymoon. No satnavs in those days, of course. She’d depended on her own navigational skills. She liked it better that way.
She blinked as she stepped out of the gloomy office and on to the bright forecourt. It must have been a trick of the morning light, so clear after the previous day’s rain, but the courtesy car now looked a slightly different shape – exactly like the Mini she had driven in her teens.