Moving On (2011) Page 7

  Another chance to be positive, Molly thought. ‘I can be out of the house within a few days. I’ll just have to find somewhere to store my furniture. Oh, and we have to discuss rent.’

  He held out a piece of paper. ‘These are the prices and descriptions we’ve been given of houses in this area. That one,’ his finger stabbed at the sheet, ‘sounds closest to yours, so that would seem to be a fair rent.’

  She hoped she’d hidden her surprise at how much it was.

  ‘Four weeks in advance suit you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Or you could rent the place to us furnished and we’d pay a little extra? We’re careful tenants.’ He grinned at his mother. ‘If we weren’t, Ma would soon be after us. Our stuff’s in storage and that’d save uncrating and re-crating it if I decide to work overseas for a while. Do you need all this stuff?’

  ‘No, definitely not.’ She thought rapidly. ‘I shall need a bed, I could take the furniture in the conservatory, my computer desk and a bookcase, as well as crockery and stuff like that. But I’ve got plenty of cookware, so you’d still have enough left. I can’t see me giving any more dinner parties for twelve.’

  He stuck out one hand. ‘Done! You’re a woman after my own heart. No shilly-shallying and know what you want.’

  She was a bit surprised by his compliment but pleased, and saw Jane beaming and nodding approval at her. ‘Won’t your wife want to see the house first, though?’

  ‘One of the grandchildren’s ill, so she’s gone rushing off to help. We’ve already discussed what sort of place we need, and she trusts me and Mum to find somewhere to suit. I’ll write you a cheque now, shall I, Molly? And I’ve got a rental agreement somewhere in the car that an agency gave me. I’ll give it to you and we can fill it in together next time I come. If you trust me, that is.’

  ‘You’re Jane’s son. Of course I trust you.’

  He smiled and gave his mother a quick hug. ‘There you are, Ma. I knew you’d come in useful one day.’

  She pretended to hit him.

  As they walked off, he put one arm round his mother’s shoulders and Molly had to swallow a lump in her throat. She didn’t think Brian had even looked at her lately, let alone shown any affection.

  She walked slowly round the ground floor, feeling as if a load had been lifted from her shoulders. It took her a few moments to realize that the bright new feeling creeping into her head was hope.

  How long had it been since she’d felt hopeful? Or even vaguely positive?

  Galvanized, she went upstairs to start packing her personal possessions, then changed her mind and did some searching on her computer. She found a storage place, the sort where you hired a lock-up space, and phoned to book a unit. She’d put her things there till she settled somewhere.

  While she was at it, she decided to ring Brian’s mobile to tell him he had two days to remove his boxes of toys, then she suddenly realized that if she did, he’d probably tell his father she was leaving. And who knew what Craig would dream up then?

  Instead she would ask Stuart if she could leave the boxes in the garage for her son to pick up – with a time limit, of course. She tried to remember what his wife looked like and could only dredge up a vague picture of Wendy. But she’d trust him with her home. Well, he was Jane’s son.

  Thinking of Stuart reminded her how she no longer trusted anything Craig said or did. She’d worried about his business methods for years, or rather the way he went about getting promotions and discrediting the opposition.

  And if she was honest, she’d known something was wrong with their marriage before he asked for a divorce, but had been too cowardly to rock the boat.

  She wasn’t proud of that! Wasn’t proud of a lot of things. Was going to make sure she did better from now on. However hard it might be.

  Avril appeared in the doorway of the office. ‘Do you have a moment, Mr Santiago?’

  ‘Certainly, Miss Buttermere.’ He noticed that Liz was still there, as was Karen. ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘Perhaps you can tell us.’ She indicated a pile of crumpled papers on her desk. ‘Wendy and I sorted these out from Penny’s things.’

  He picked up the first one and frowned. A copy of his budget figures. One by one he picked the papers up and put them down. ‘I don’t understand what she’s doing with confidential information like that. She didn’t type this material up; I did. I don’t even know how she got hold of it. That section of my computer is password protected.’

  The two women looked at one another.

  ‘There’s something else. This was hidden in the toiletries bag.’ Avril held out a thumb drive and he stuck it into the computer. What he saw made him whistle in shock. ‘I think I’d like to call in the police.’

  Karen wailed and began to sob.

  ‘Be quiet! If you’ve done nothing wrong, you have nothing to fear.’ Avril turned to Liz. ‘Do you agree to calling in the police about Penny?’

  ‘Yes, and I’m satisfied that you’ve followed the preferred procedures by involving me as soon as you knew there was a problem. I’d like to ring the union about it, Mr Santiago. I don’t understand the importance of the information on that thumb drive, so I’ll have to rely on your judgement until they send someone.’

  He gestured towards the phone. ‘Be my guest. I want to be fair to everyone.’ He looked at Karen. ‘What about your children? Have you found someone to collect them from school?’

  She nodded. ‘My sister.’ She looked frightened now. ‘I thought I was just picking up Penny’s things, truly I did.’

  He believed her. She was such an unlikely conspirator. She looked very upset, so he repeated, ‘Then you have nothing to fear. Miss Buttermere, do you think you could organize a cup of tea for everyone? And perhaps you could keep all this material in full view of everyone for the moment. Would that be fair, Liz?’

  ‘Yes.’ She took out a mobile phone, walked along the corridor a little way and keyed in a number. ‘Hello? We have an incident . . .’

  Her voice went quiet as she explained, then she cut the connection and returned. ‘They’re sending someone straight away and if it’s all right with you, Mr Santiago, I’m to stay and keep an eye on these things until then.’

  ‘Fine by me.’

  He went to wait inside his office, hating the mess that greeted him, but very glad Avril had come back to help him. If she hadn’t, how would he have coped with this?

  In the middle of it all, a couple turned up to view the houses. He’d not realized he had this appointment, because it wasn’t in his diary. Yet another example of Penny’s inefficiency.

  He summoned up a smile and took them round the houses, patiently answering the questions whose answers they could have perfectly well have found for themselves in the brochure.

  When he got back to the office, the police and the union official were there.

  By the time they left two hours later, he had a raging headache.

  Avril looked at him. ‘Not a good day.’

  ‘No. Enough to send you running for shelter from my troubles, I should think.’

  ‘On the contrary. But there are some things that need to change. It’s early days to pass judgement, but I think you need at least one more member of staff here, a sort of general factotum, someone who could take over the sales work and admin, as well as relieving me on reception, whatever was needed.’

  ‘You’re right.’

  ‘And another thing: what sort of hours are you working each day? You came back here last night after you’d spoken to me, didn’t you? I saw the time on those files you gave me to photocopy. You look exhausted.’ She began to gather her things, then stopped. ‘I think you should make sure there’s a security officer on duty tonight. I’d organize it myself, but I have an urgent appointment.’

  ‘I was going to stay myself.’

  ‘Can you manage without sleep nowadays? How clever of you?’

  He gave in, knowing that tone of voice. ‘No, I can’t. You’r
e right. I’ll get someone in to keep watch.’

  That took another couple of hours, so he grabbed some fish and chips on the way home, and felt so tired he went straight to bed.

  He didn’t expect to sleep but sheer exhaustion did the trick.

  Five

  Molly rang her cousin. ‘Helen, I know it’s last minute, but isn’t the family reunion you told me about taking place this coming weekend? Oh, good. Look, my circumstances have changed . . .’ She explained then asked if she could still attend it.

  ‘It’ll be great to have you. I’ll see if they’ve got a room free at the hotel, and if not, you can share mine. They do a lot of weddings there, you see, so they’re often completely booked out. Everyone will really enjoy catching up with you. It’s been ages.’

  ‘I don’t think most people will even remember me.’

  Helen chuckled. ‘Of course they will. They may not have seen you since you were a kid, but you were very noticeable then; a real tomboy, into everything. Remember the time you got stuck up that tree and your mother had to call the fire brigade to get you down? Or the time you led us kids on an expedition to the country and we all got lost for hours?’

  ‘I’d forgotten that.’

  Helen’s voice became gentler. ‘You’ve had a rough time lately, losing your parents and then Craig going off the rails. Have you got plans for your new life?’

  ‘No. Not yet.’ She struggled to keep her voice steady. ‘Look, I’ll tell you where I’m at when I see you.’

  ‘Come to my house first. Come and stay for a few days.’

  ‘Oh. Well, I don’t want to be a bother and—’ She stopped, hearing Jane’s voice telling her to speak the truth. She’d love to visit Helen, so why not say it? ‘Well, actually I’d love to stay with you, just for the night before the reunion, though. Emailing isn’t the same, is it?’

  ‘No, but better than nothing. I’m glad you’ve kept in touch, Molly. It’ll be great seeing you without Craig. My Les didn’t take to him at all.’

  ‘No. I remember the awkward silences. I should be clear here by Friday. I’ll be there in the afternoon.’ Now she came to think of it, Craig had made little attempt to get on with any of her family. They were probably too ordinary to be of any use to him. Why hadn’t she seen earlier how ruthless that drive for business success was? Was love always blind? Hers had been.

  ‘Great. I’ll send Les out for a drink with his mates that night, then you and I can have a good old catch-up. Do you still like Merlot?’

  Molly laughed, suddenly feeling more cheerful. ‘Yes, I do. But let me bring a bottle.’

  When she put the phone down, she took a deep breath. Friday, then. She was going to be clear of here by Friday morning, whatever it took.

  She couldn’t get a reply on Stuart’s mobile phone, so went round to ask Jane to tell her son everything was arranged for the handover, then started on the packing. Good thing she’d had a thorough clear-out for the house viewing.

  As she packed, her mind wandered to her children. Her daughter hadn’t tried to contact her since that one call, hadn’t even sent a postcard from the honeymoon. That hurt. Just as her confrontation with her son had hurt and he hadn’t been in touch since then, either. Maybe one day the huge gaps between them would mend. You should never give up hope.

  No one threw rocks through her window that night, but she still kept jerking awake, thinking she’d heard something outside.

  On the Wednesday, Stuart rang to ask if he could put in security gates across the drive.

  ‘I can’t afford that, I’m afraid.’

  ‘I’ve had a good deal offered me in return for a favour or two, so you don’t need to spend a penny. It’s just that in my line of business, security systems, I like to make sure people can’t get to me easily.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure it won’t cost me anything, you’re welcome to make any changes like that. Security is important.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll bring a letter round for you to sign, giving me permission. And I promise I won’t put anything unsightly in.’

  ‘I don’t think Jane would let you.’

  ‘She’s a terror, my old mum.’ He chuckled; such a nice fat chuckle.

  The memory of it made her smile several times.

  On the Thursday evening, her two closest friends came round for a farewell drink, bringing takeaway Indian food.

  ‘What’s with the big gates?’ Di asked.

  ‘My tenant had them put in. I can’t believe he got it done in twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Must have cost him a bomb.’

  ‘He’s in the security business, got them cheap. Now, let me pour you some wine. Good thing your husbands are picking you up.’

  ‘Where exactly are you going?’ Nicki demanded after they’d all taken an appreciative sip or two.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Molly laughed, feeling light and free, as if she’d shed years. ‘I’m just heading off into the wide blue yonder and who knows where I’ll wind up?’

  ‘Good for you. Welcome back.’ Nicki raised her glass.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It’s the old Molly now, the one I used to work with, not the one Craig trampled into submission. Will you still be picking up your emails?’ Molly nodded. ‘Good. And we’ve got each other’s mobile numbers. We’ll keep in touch.’

  ‘Oh. I’ve changed my mobile number. This is my new one. New start. I don’t want Craig to be able to contact me. Please don’t give this number to anyone else.’

  ‘Your kids will tell him the new number.’

  ‘They don’t know it either. If they want me, they can email.’

  Her friends didn’t comment but she could see the surprise on their faces, followed by pity. She changed the subject and soon they were all laughing and reminiscing again.

  When Nikki and Di had left, their goodbyes seemed to echo around her and it felt as if the house was adding its goodbye to theirs. She’d always loved her home, even as a child, but now . . . now it didn’t feel like hers any more.

  ‘Goodbye,’ she said aloud. Whatever happened, she didn’t think she’d ever live here again.

  But where would she live? That was quite an exciting thought. She was totally free to go anywhere she chose. Or to move on again.

  ‘You ought to contact your mother now that we’re back, you know,’ Jamie said.

  Rachel scowled at him across the table. ‘We’ve already had this discussion and I haven’t changed my mind. No way.’

  ‘You can’t hold a grudge for ever.’

  ‘She got drunk and was late for my wedding. You saw her. It was embarrassing and it was the only thing that went wrong the whole day. How could she do that to me?’

  ‘How do you know she was drunk?’

  ‘Dad told me.’

  ‘I heard differently from a friend who was there.’

  Rachel dumped her knife and fork on the plate, folding her arms. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I heard she collapsed and was taken away in an ambulance during the wedding reception?’

  ‘She couldn’t have done. Dad would have told me, or Tasha.’

  ‘You’re not going to like this, but I have to say it. I’ve heard them embroider the truth before when they talked about your mother.’

  Rachel stared down at the food then pushed the plate away from her. ‘You’re right. I don’t like it. So let’s drop the subject. Do you want a coffee?’

  He shook his head, his usual smile missing. ‘If anyone tells you bad things about me, I hope you’ll have more trust in me, or at least wait to check out what’s true and what isn’t. And even if it is right about your mother, I feel sorry for her and I wouldn’t blame her for seeking Dutch courage. You all treat her so scornfully.’

  ‘I said: let’s drop the subject or we’ll be having our first row.’

  He shrugged and began to butter another piece of toast, but he didn’t chat any more and left early for work.

  She didn’t mention her mother again
, but couldn’t help thinking about what he’d said. And worrying about the disappointment in his eyes.

  No, her father and Tasha wouldn’t lie to her. They just . . . wouldn’t. And she’d never forgive her mother for spoiling her special day. Never.

  She sighed. Life was very boring when you didn’t have a wedding to look forward to and Jamie was a bit fussy about the place being tidy. She went to the spare bedroom and glared at the pile of boxes and bags that had been dumped there, thanks to her dear mother. She’d had no time to clear them up.

  It was mean of her mother to send them here when she hadn’t even sold the house yet. Just plain mean. She could have easily kept them in the garage. How could Jamie expect to keep the flat tidy with these piled up?

  She glanced at the clock and let out a shriek. She was going to be late for work if she didn’t hurry.

  On Friday, Molly hugged Jane, handed over the keys to Stuart and set off. Her car contained clothes, her computer and a few personal bits and pieces, but it was by no means loaded. The rest of her possessions were in storage.

  She felt liberated as she drove along the M4, stopping for coffee and a snack because she’d been too excited to eat much that morning.

  She arrived at Helen’s house mid-afternoon, and when her cousin opened the door, they stood staring at one another before hugging.

  ‘You don’t seem anything like your age,’ Helen said. ‘How do you stay so young-looking?’

  Molly couldn’t return the compliment because her cousin looked a lot older than last time she’d seen her. ‘Oh, being fat fills up the wrinkles,’ she joked.

  Helen held the door open. ‘You’re not fat. You’re not even plump. Whatever made you think you were? Come in.’ When they were sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, she said abruptly, ‘I’d better tell you, because if I don’t someone else will tomorrow. I had breast cancer four years ago.’