Rae stood up and slung her Mulberry satchel over one thin, angular shoulder. ‘I’ll be off and leave you two to kiss and make up,’ she said. ‘But don’t think you can stop paying for Charlie now that Tansy knows, Justin, because if you do I’ll take you to court for maintenance.’
‘Just get out, Rae,’ I said. ‘I never want to see you again.’
‘How many years have you been saying
that
?’ She sauntered elegantly to the door and turned. ‘Ever since you turned up in our midst like a little, ugly dark goblin, and Daddy insisted we treat you as a sister. As if!’
Then she slammed the door behind her, leaving a silence you could cut with a knife.
Justin attempted to justify himself and talk me round, but there were no words that could get him out of this fix. He might look like a big, guilty schoolboy, but this was slightly more serious than who scrumped all the apples out of the orchard, so saying it was me he’d loved all the time, and he’d let Rae bleed him dry so she didn’t tell me what he’d done, just wasn’t good enough.
‘I was doing it to protect you – us!’
‘If you hadn’t slept with her in the first place, you wouldn’t have had to,’ I pointed out. ‘And because she had Charlie, you put off marrying me and starting a family all this time … right to the point where it might even be too late for me to have a baby!’
I didn’t see how I could ever forgive either of them for that.
‘I’m sure it isn’t too late, Tansy darling. Look, I know I’ve been stupid, but now that you know – if you can forgive me – there’s nothing to stop us. I don’t need to pay her through the nose any more and everything’s changed.’
‘It has – changed irrevocably,’ I said. ‘I thought you were the only man immune to my stepsisters – the only one who truly loved me.’ Despite myself, my voice wobbled a little.
‘I do,’ he insisted.
‘Justin, I’m not sure you even know the
meaning
of the word, but even if you do, then you don’t love me the way I am, or you wouldn’t keep going on about my weight, and the way I dress and the things I say, as if I’m suddenly not good enough – just like Mummy Dearest always tells you.’
‘Leave Mummy out of this. She’d love to see me married.’
‘Yes, to anyone except me!’
At this inopportune moment the phone on the table between us rang.
‘Answer it, why don’t you? It’s bound to be Mummy Dearest herself!’ I said bitterly.
He snatched it up and from his side of the conversation I’d clearly guessed right.
‘Mummy, can I call you back? This is a really bad time and – no, of course I care that you’re having a heart attack! Listen, Mummy, don’t –’ He paused and I could hear high-pitched and imperative quacking coming from the receiver. ‘Yes, all right, I’m on my way,’ he said resignedly, and put down the phone.
‘Summoned to Tunbridge?’
‘She’s feeling really ill. I’m sure it’s nothing but indigestion as usual, but I’d better go. I’ll be back later tonight and then we can talk things through.’
‘I don’t think we’ve anything further to discuss, Justin!’
‘Look, I know you’re upset –’
‘That’s the understatement of the year!’
‘But you must understand it was just a moment of madness – weakness, vanity – call it what you like.’ He ventured one of his persuasive, glowing smiles, the one most women found irresistible. ‘I’ve been a fool, but I don’t want to lose you, darling, and I hope you’ll be able to forgive me. I’ll ring you when I know what time I’m coming back.’
‘Don’t bother!’ I said tersely, then locked myself into the boxroom and cried until I heard him leave the flat. When I went out again, the place seemed even colder and emptier than ever and I felt much the same. I was shivering, though that was probably just with shock.
I washed my swollen red eyes with cold water, then went round the flat collecting everything that was mine and stowing it all away in whatever bags, boxes and suitcases I could find. Then I brought the Mini round to a handy space near the front door and packed as much as I could into it. I suppose it was lucky I’d always stored most of my stuff up in Lancashire in my old bedroom, as if subconsciously I’d known my stay here was temporary.
Only my little drawing desk and a couple of large portfolios remained, and I left those in the boxroom, with a note asking him not to let his mother throw them out until I’d got Timmy to come round with his camper van to pick them up for me.
I took one last look round at the sterile rooms, which resembled a minimalist stage set without all my brightly coloured bits and pieces, and then I was off – straight back north like a homing pigeon.
I could have stayed the night with Timmy and Joe, though they’re the other side of London, but I didn’t think of that until I was well on the way to Sticklepond, when it suddenly occurred to me that I couldn’t just turn up early – it would be a shock to Aunt Nan – so I stopped at a motel chain for the night. I was in no fit state to drive any further that night anyway, really, because I don’t think I’d stopped crying since Justin had left the flat and everything just kept playing over and over in my mind.
Justin texted me on my mobile several times, presumably after he returned and found me gone, but I deleted his messages unread. There wasn’t anything he could say that could make this better.
As well as the bara brith and Welshcakes, Mother taught me how to make Meddyginiaeth Llysieuol, which is Welsh for herbal medicine, though really it’s a sort of honey mead with herbs and very good for you. I still make it and I’ve shared the recipe with Tansy, though I’m not giving it to anyone else. I’ve been asked for it time and again, and that Hebe Winter up at the manor would love to get her hands on it. She fancies herself as a herbalist but even she can’t guess what the special ingredient is that Mother put in! Meddyg, as we call it in the family, cures most things except old age, though I expect a glass or two will help to ease me out of this world and into the next.
Middlemoss Living Archive
Recordings: Nancy Bright.
As I drove back towards Sticklepond I thought I should never, ever have left there in the first place. After all, I could have done my graphic design course somewhere close, like Liverpool.
Justin had
so
not been worth the years in London, which I could have spent with Aunt Nan instead … though she’d been the first to urge me to spread my wings and see a bit of the world.
And if I’d never gone to London I’d probably be happily married to someone local by now, and not even known my wicked stepsisters existed. I meanly wished I could say they were as ugly as the ones in Cinderella, but they weren’t, though Rae had certainly done a mean and ugly thing.
I hoped I’d never have to see either of them again, even if Marcia, the older one, was living up here since she’d got that regular part in the cast of
Cotton Common
. But Lars had said her flat was in Middlemoss, a few miles away, so with a bit of luck, our paths were unlikely to cross.
Lars himself was on my mind because he was bound to find out I’d left Justin at some point and ask me why. I was fond of him, so I couldn’t tell him what Rae had done, or that Charlie, whom he adored, was Justin’s, could I?
I felt a pang in my heart at the thought of the sweet little boy, who seemed by nature to be taking after Lars rather than his mother, which was a blessing. In features and colouring he looked just like the Andersons, very fair and with bright blue eyes, rather than with Justin’s Viking tawny hair and ruddy complexion.
Ruddy Justin!
No, I couldn’t face phoning Lars up and lying about my reasons for leaving Justin – not right now. Perhaps I’d feel braver later and think up a good story, or edit Rae out, or something.
I was overcome with hunger – emotion gets me like that usually; it was surprising it hadn’t happened earlier – so I stopped for a carbohydrate-packed lunch, then called Timmy from the car afterwards and told him what had happened.
‘Well, I can’t say I’m really surprised, because we never liked him,’ he said. ‘He simply wasn’t good enough for you, darling, but I’m terribly sorry you found that out in such a horrible way. Those stepsisters of yours were a pair of bitches to you, right from the moment you moved into their father’s house. Bit like Cinderella, really, but without a prince to whisk you away.’
‘I was thinking that, though at least I didn’t have to clean and cook, or sleep in the ashes. In fact, my stepfather was quite hurt that I wouldn’t take an allowance from him! And you were my prince, letting me share the flat with you.’
‘No, I was your fairy godmother!’ he said, and laughed.
‘I’m going to ask you a favour now,’ I said. ‘I’ve managed to cram most of my stuff in the Mini, but I had to leave my small drawing desk and a couple of portfolios stacked in the boxroom of Justin’s flat. Could you possibly collect them in your van sometime, and then bring them with you next time you’re up here? The desk legs unscrew, so it’s not too bulky.’
Timmy’s parents had moved out of the village to Ormskirk a few years ago, but it was only a few miles away, and he and Joe often visited.
‘Of course I will, but it might be a couple of weeks because the van’s in for repairs and it’s going to be very expensive. But as soon as I get it back, I’ll ring Justin and see when will be convenient to get them, shall I?’
‘That would be great, thanks, Timmy. I’ll tell him you’re going to fetch them at some point. He keeps trying to call me and he sent me three texts while I was eating lunch, but I haven’t read them. I just … can’t face it at the moment, it’s all like some dreadful nightmare. I’m all cried out and my eyes are so puffy I look grotesque.’
‘I don’t suppose you feel at all forgiving. This is not something you can just get over and carry on after, is it?’
‘No, it’s the end of that part of my life – but a new beginning back with Aunt Nan. She’s got really keen on the idea of turning Bright’s into a wedding shoe shop and I think it will give both of us a whole fresh interest in life.’
‘It certainly will. It’s a wonderful idea! And I can be your scout at all the vintage fashion fairs, looking for wedding shoes,’ he offered, because we often went to them together. ‘You can give me a budget and I’ll buy anything I think you’ll like or can sell.’
‘Thank you, Timmy, that would be great – and you know what to look for,’ I said gratefully, because some of the vintage shoes I bought hadn’t been specifically designed as wedding shoes, but were pretty enough to be used for the purpose. ‘You’re a wonderful friend – and Joe and Bella, too – What would I do without you?’
It was mid-afternoon by the time I turned off the motorway into the tangle of narrow country lanes that eventually brought me to Sticklepond High Street.
I drove past Gregory Lyon’s Museum of Witchcraft (I remembered the days when it was still a dolls’ hospital and museum, owned by two elderly sisters, the Misses Frinton). Attached to it was the artisan chocolate shop, Chocolate Wishes, owned by Gregory’s daughter, Chloe, who had married the vicar …
Then, just before the Green Man, I turned right and then immediately left up the unmade lane to the space at the back of the cottage, behind the henhouse, where I usually parked the car.
It was quiet back there, just the ticking of the engine as it cooled and the crooning of hens. This end of the garden beyond the holly hedge arch was not so neat, and I noticed that the trellis along the top of the low wall dividing it from that of the neighbouring cottage was broken away from its post in the middle and sagged down.
I paused for a minute before collecting the first armful of my belongings and going up to the kitchen door where Bella, who had kindly popped round to see that Aunt Nan was all right, spotted me through the window while she was filling the kettle and opened the door to let me in.
I told Bella and Nan everything over a cup of hot tea and the last of the cherry scones Florrie had brought round with her when she came to spend the night. It seemed easier to tell both at once and get it over with.
‘… So I just put all my stuff in the car and came back. And that’s it, Aunt Nan,’ I said, when I’d poured out the whole sorry tale. ‘I’m finished with him. In fact, I’m finished with love. There’s going to be no Cinderella ending to my story.’
‘That stepsister of yours is evil!’ Bella declared.
‘Yes, that’s what Timmy said, when I rang him to ask him to collect the rest of my stuff.’
‘She’s behaved very badly, but Tansy’s fiancé could have said no,’ pointed out Aunt Nan. ‘It takes two to tango.’
‘I desperately wanted children and all the time he was saying we couldn’t afford it, he already had Charlie!’
‘He’s shown himself to be a man of no character whatsoever – and as for that stepsister of yours, she’s a slut, there’s no two ways about it,’ Aunt Nan said forthrightly. ‘I don’t know what the world is coming to. It’s more like Sodom and Gomorrah every day!’
‘I’d pay good money to see Rae turn into a pillar of salt,’ I said with a watery smile.
‘So, you’re home for good?’ Aunt Nan asked. ‘What about the foot modelling? And your books?’
‘I don’t need to be near the publishers, I can write the books anywhere, and I can always go down if they want to see me. Timmy’s going to bring my desk and the rest of my art materials up eventually, but I can manage without it for a while. As to the foot modelling, I’d been turning down more and more assignments and I told the agency I was retiring when I got back after Christmas. I did tell you I was going to, because I’d had enough. It’ll be lovely not having to put Vaseline on my feet and wear cotton socks in bed, or worry about bashed toenails and stuff like that.’
‘Oh, yes, you did tell me,’ she agreed. ‘I’d forgotten.’
‘After all these years of having to wear sensible shoes, well, I may go a little wild occasionally with the frivolous footwear, but I think I’m addicted to my Birkenstocks, really.’