Moving On (2011) Read online

  There were all sorts of stray relatives scattered around the room to remember for ever if she fell apart at the wedding, so Molly kept it together. Just.

  After an hour of sitting in stiff silence at the end of the table, ignored by her son who was in the next seat and had eyes only for Geneva, she excused herself and went to the restroom. Her head was thumping and she felt dreadful. If she’d had her proper handbag she’d have had aspirins, but she only had this ridiculous little blue thing, which barely fitted tissues, money, her house key and a comb.

  She stayed in the cubicle for ten minutes, feeling sick and dizzy. But she couldn’t stay there for ever so stood up. Just as she was about to open the door, two women came in.

  ‘Did you see the mother of the bride roll in late?’ one asked. ‘She looked as if she’d been drinking to me.’

  ‘Tasha told me Craig’s ex was putting on weight. The woman must be at least a size sixteen. Talk about porky.’

  As they tittered, Molly let her hand fall from the latch and stood absolutely motionless.

  ‘No wonder he left her. The wonder is a man like him stayed with her for so long.’

  ‘He’s still good looking, isn’t he, though he must be going on for fifty . . . ?’

  They left and Molly crept out of the cubicle, staring at herself in the mirror. Her face was chalk white, not rosy as usual. She felt so unsteady she had to lean against the wall after she’d washed her hands. As she opened the outer door, the room spun round her and if Sally hadn’t come in and caught her, she’d have fallen.

  ‘Are you all right, Molly love? I was worried about you. You’ve been gone quarter of an hour and you looked so pale.’

  ‘I do feel . . . a bit dizzy.’

  ‘Look at me.’ Sally, who was a nurse, stared into her eyes. ‘You might have concussion. Ouch, look at this bruise. Good thing it was hidden under your hair for the photos. You must have hit your head in the accident.’

  ‘I suppose. Can’t remember.’

  ‘I think I’d better take you to hospital.’

  ‘No.’ Molly clung to Sally’s arm. ‘Just call me a taxi. I’ll go home and lie down, take it easy.’ She wasn’t wanted here, anyway.

  ‘You shouldn’t be on your own. I’ll come with you.’

  ‘No. I’ll be all right, I promise you.’

  ‘Are you sure? Is there someone else you can call? You really shouldn’t be alone tonight.’

  ‘Oh, yes. I’ve got plenty of friends.’

  ‘I’d stay with you, but it’s a five-hour drive back to our part of Yorkshire. I’d not have come here at all today, but Mum made such a fuss about the family showing up to support Craig. Ha! As if he needs our support. Look, I’ll see you into a taxi, then go and tell your family what’s happened.’

  ‘No. Don’t say anything. I don’t want . . . to spoil things for Rachel.’

  ‘But what will she think if you’re not there for the speeches?’

  ‘The worst. She always does lately.’

  Sally gave her a sudden hug. ‘She’ll grow up now she’s married.’

  Molly shook her head, wincing as it thumped with pain. The headache was getting worse by the minute and everything seemed a bit blurry. Suddenly she couldn’t move, and everything went into slow motion as she started falling. She could do nothing about it but close her eyes and let the blackness swallow her up.

  She woke in a strange bed and in spite of the curtains drawn around it, the light hurt her eyes so much she shut them again.

  ‘What’s your name?’ someone asked.

  She didn’t want to speak but they asked her again, so she said, ‘Molly.’

  ‘Surname?’

  ‘Taylor – no, Peel.’

  ‘Aren’t you sure?’

  ‘Divorced. Keep forgetting.’

  ‘What date is it today?’

  ‘Look at the newspaper. I can never remember.’ She opened her eyes again, squinting in the harsh flow of light, and found a young nurse staring at her anxiously. ‘Where am I?’

  ‘In hospital. You were brought in last night with concussion.’

  Molly stared at her in shock. ‘Last night?’

  ‘Yes. Just look at me, please. Oh good, you’re focusing properly now.’

  She realized she was wearing a short hospital gown, the sort that fastened down the back and made you feel horribly vulnerable. ‘My glasses.’

  ‘They’re here.’ The nurse opened the drawer next to the bed and passed her her spectacles.

  With a sigh of relief, Molly put them on and the world became clearer. ‘I want to go home.’

  ‘You can’t leave till the doctor’s checked you out. Is there someone who can fetch you and keep an eye on you for the rest of the day? A woman called Sally brought you in, but she said she didn’t live near here. She promised to tell your son and your ex, but I’m afraid no one’s phoned.’

  As that information sank in, tears welled in Molly’s eyes. They couldn’t even be bothered to look after her, could they, her precious children? Well, Rachel had some excuse. She and Jamie would be away on their honeymoon now, but what about Brian? And Craig. Her ex could have called one of her friends. He could at least have done that.

  But he hadn’t.

  She’d never have gone away and left one of her family alone in hospital, without even a change of clothes to go home in. Well, she wasn’t going to beg for their help now. She sat up and pushed the covers back. ‘I need to use the bathroom.’

  ‘Perhaps a bed pan until—?’

  With only curtains round the bed and other people nearby to hear her. ‘No way!’

  ‘OK. Let me help you. You’re in the end bed, so it’s quite close.’

  ‘Why am I in a public ward? I have private medical insurance.’

  ‘You didn’t have anything on you to show that.’

  She remembered the stupid little handbag. She’d throw it away as soon as she got home. ‘Just . . . stand outside the bathroom and let me see how I manage.’

  ‘Well, OK. You’re not sounding slurred.’

  Molly closed the bathroom door, used the facilities, then stared at herself in the mirror, trying to smooth her hair a bit. Bruised forehead, huge bruise on her arm, but her head felt clear. Very clear. Clearer than it had been for over a year.

  She opened the door, holding the open-backed hospital gown together with one hand. ‘I feel fine now, better by the minute, so I’m getting dressed and going home.’

  ‘The doctor hasn’t discharged you yet.’

  Nearby someone moaned and asked for a bedpan.

  Molly shuddered. ‘If the doctor doesn’t come quickly, I’m discharging myself.’

  By the time she was dressed, they’d found a junior doctor, who looked dead on his feet. He shone a light in her eyes, watched her walk up and down the room and signed the release papers.

  Her clothes were wrinkled and she looked a mess. She threw the hat in a rubbish bin near the hospital entrance. Then she called a taxi from the free phone near the entrance. At least she had some money in her handbag to pay for it.

  When she got home, she saw that Brian’s car was missing. That was unusual. Tasha didn’t encourage him to stay overnight with Geneva.

  The empty house seemed to echo around her, every sound she made magnified, in her head at least. She made a piece of toast, but couldn’t force more than a few bites down. Shoving the plate aside, she went up to Brian’s room. It was a mess, as usual, but she wasn’t going to clear it up this time.

  If Rachel had still been at home, she would have refused to clear up after her any longer, too. Jamie was welcome to the perpetual mess.

  She rang Brian’s mobile, but got no answer. Where was he?

  ‘What’s the point?’ she asked the empty house. ‘Why did I have children at all? Rachel believes the worst and won’t listen to me, and Brian doesn’t give a stuff about me, except when he needs an unpaid servant.’

  Anger welled up so strongly she had to do something, anythin
g rather than sit around talking to herself and waiting for her son to return. Why should she wait for him anyway? He’d not waited for her, or come to visit her in hospital.

  Suddenly she knew exactly what she was going to do.

  In Wiltshire Euan Santiago picked up the phone because his secretary hadn’t arrived yet. ‘Yes? Ah, Becky. How are things in the IT world?’

  ‘Your new website’s finished. It’s ready to go live as soon as you’ve checked it all out.’

  ‘Great. I’ll get on to that straight away. The sooner it’s out there, the better. I’ve got a few sales brewing by word of mouth, but I want to start selling in earnest now that we’ve got six finished houses ready to show people. I’ll get back to you by noon at the latest, then, if there are no glitches, you can put the site up on line.’

  As he put the phone down, there was the sound of an outer door opening. He strode out into the reception area, having trouble keeping his voice calm. ‘You’re late again, Penny.’

  She looked at him resentfully. ‘The traffic was bad.’

  ‘That’s what you always say.’

  ‘Well, Swindon’s famous for it.’

  ‘Then set off earlier or come here by another route.’ He bit back more sharp words. After years of Miss Buttermere being in charge of his office, and having a larger staff at his disposal, he was finding it hard to put up with such inefficient help. But he’d set himself this business challenge and he was going to make it work, whatever it took. Unfortunately, Avril Buttermere couldn’t be coaxed out of retirement at any price and he didn’t want to be without a secretary, even an inefficient one, not at this crucial time.

  Avril still lived nearby and always waved cheerfully if he passed her in the car. When they met in the village, she stopped to chat, sounding to be involved in a dozen community activities already. Lucky them to have her help! She was the most capable organizer he’d ever met.

  ‘I’ll be checking out the new website this morning,’ he told Penny. ‘Cancel my first appointment and fit it in another time. I don’t want interrupting unless it’s important.’

  He got the new website up on the screen. It looked very attractive. ‘Marlbury Golf Club and Leisure Village,’ it announced at the top in gold lettering on a teal blue background. Below that, it showed the architect’s concept sketch for the whole development, with the golf course in the background.

  The golf course had been there for years, of course, but the leisure village was his own idea. He’d bought the golf course and adjoining land, and set out to make his long-time dream come true without impinging on his other business interests. That had left him a little tight for money, but he was determined to cope. He didn’t want any backers who might interfere with his plans. Fortunately, he’d leased the hotel and golf course to someone else, so that left him free to do what he wanted with the development.

  This time he wasn’t building cramped little flats someone else had commissioned and trying to cram too many into the space, or office buildings that looked like a stack of crates. He was attempting to create a community, somewhere people would enjoy living – somewhere he would enjoy living.

  He’d spotted a niche market – he was pretty certain about that – and was offering people second homes, suitable for expats or people who wanted to spend part of their time in England. Lodges was the official term for these wooden houses, but he always thought of them as homes. He was going to move here himself shortly and just keep a small flat in London.

  His present house was far too big for one person. Once he’d got over his wife’s death, as much as you ever did when you’d loved someone, he’d bought a new house, thinking – hoping even! – that he might end up marrying again one day. Karen would have wanted that. Now that his sons had completely left home, he didn’t like living alone.

  He’d spent several months in one relationship, but it hadn’t lasted, not because of quarrels or infidelity, but simply because he didn’t want any more children and it turned out she was aching for a child. He wished her well, but the thought of raising more young children didn’t appeal to him at all.

  Euan didn’t see much of his sons at the moment. Jason was working in Newcastle upon Tyne and Grant had set off to see the world as soon as he’d obtained his degree. Jason had done the same thing, and you couldn’t help worrying about their safety while they were overseas. But you couldn’t hold them back.

  Forcing himself to concentrate, Euan clicked on every link he could find on the new website, moving from the artist’s concept sketches of the finished development, to computer images of larger detached dwellings, to a photograph of the first group of six finished lodges, painted in a dark blue-grey with white window frames and doors.

  The house plans came up clearly, but he didn’t linger on them because he knew them by heart. He wasn’t an architect, but the houses were basically his design and he’d put a lot of thought into them. The architect who’d checked them out for him had congratulated him on their workability.

  Two hours later he smiled at the screen. Perfect. Not a single link that didn’t work. Becky was a talented woman, young as she was. She’d worked hard on this, knowing it would be a feather in her cap and could bring other major business her way. He had her on retainer for regular tech support and maintenance, which would give her a steady part-time wage.

  When he went out into the reception area, he found it unoccupied. Frowning, he went to the corner and saw Penny standing further down the corridor next to the automatic food dispenser, which sold rubbish snacks for people staying at the hotel. He made a mental note to do something about that tendency of hers to wander off, but couldn’t just sack her without a better excuse.

  She was making eyes at one of the waiters, her whole face animated as it never was in the office. He frowned. She was in a steady relationship, talked a lot about her partner, so shouldn’t be flirting like that. Not in his book, anyway.

  Euan didn’t draw attention to himself, but watched for a few moments then went back inside the office, keeping an eye on the time.

  Ten minutes later she came back just as he was answering a call at her desk. He looked at his watch and finished the call, then stared at her until she wriggled uncomfortably.

  He’d hired Penny because she had all the necessary qualifications on paper and seemed enthusiastic, but it was clear now that she was a better actress than secretary. He needed to find someone else – and quickly.

  He rang Becky and congratulated her on the website. ‘Every link that I could find works. We can go live now.’

  ‘Do you have sales staff ready to go.’

  ‘I’ll handle that myself for the moment. Thank you, Becky. You did a great job. Send me your bill, then we’ll go on to the monthly maintenance budget we discussed. And if you want to use me as a reference, don’t hesitate.’

  She couldn’t hold back a few squeaks of joy and he smiled. He loved the enthusiasm of young people setting out to make a life.

  Putting the phone down, he wondered what to do next. He fiddled with some papers. He really ought to get into these accounts. But he couldn’t settle, which wasn’t like him.

  Since there was half an hour before his next appointment, he went out to stroll round the leisure village – well, what would be the village one day. The roads for the first stage were there, and the lamp posts, plus a great deal of cleared land where grass and wild plants were already growing back. He’d miss the wild flowers once the development was finished; hoped he could keep some growing in the nature patches; hoped the people who bought his houses would like that and not want billiard green lawns everywhere.

  Wooden-framed houses went up quickly once you started building, but the group of six looked lonely at the moment. It was all happening so much more slowly than he’d expected. Maybe he should hire more admin staff. No, he’d set himself to managing this project himself, so that he didn’t lose touch with the grass roots.

  If he did it right, this project would come in at a good profit
– as well as giving him a sense of pride in his creation, which the more lucrative office blocks never could.

  On the way back to the admin suite, he stopped to watch two men playing the sixth hole, his hands twitching to pick up a golf club. He could play better than they were doing standing on his head. And he would once he’d got the village on its feet. He sometimes managed nine holes, but couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a whole afternoon free to play for pleasure.

  The office closed around him like a stifling blanket. He gave a wry smile. He infinitely preferred being outdoors. Was he stupid to take this on single-handed? No.

  He’d been growing stale, had needed to move on, make changes.

  Two

  Even though she had a dull headache and the doctor at the hospital had told her to rest, anger drove Molly to start packing her son’s things at once. She put his better clothes in his old suitcase because she couldn’t find the fancy new one he’d bought last month. Some of his clothes were missing, too, surely? She stuffed his remaining clean underwear into his backpack.

  There were about thirty tee shirts in various stages of wear; from ragged to near new. Some had mottos on them, one or two distinctly rude. She grimaced. And as usual, Brian’s dirty clothes were scattered all over the place. He was nearly as bad as his sister for that.

  She went to fetch a roll of dustbin liner bags and filled two with his washing. She found some sticky labels and wrote DIRTY CLOTHES – NEED WASHING, before slapping them on to the black plastic bags. Then she dumped them on the landing, ready to take downstairs next trip.

  When she’d emptied every cupboard and drawer in his bedroom, stacking dirty plates and mugs on his desk, she carried the bags and bundles downstairs. Reversing her car out on to the drive, she began piling his things in the garage. Although it was a double garage, she’d need the whole of it for what she intended.

  She glared at the empty cardboard boxes, which her new son-in-law was supposed to have cleared out. They were left over from the presents Rachel had taken with her to the flat. ‘Leaving me to get rid of the boxes!’ she exclaimed, then began to smile. Actually, these were just what she needed.