Authors: Elizabeth Oldfield
‘But you didn’t,’ I said. ‘Why not?’
Tina handed out the glasses. ‘Because before I could pluck up the courage to approach her, I started seeing Duncan. I felt that if he knew about my family he’d disapprove and would end things with me. So I fed him a tale about being an orphan, though I owned up later. After we were married.’ She hesitated. ‘You see my mother is Dilys Langsdon, the lady at Bridgemont, and William Langsdon, who found fame as Billy the Bridge, is my brother.’
‘We know,’ I said.
She gawped. ‘How do you know?’
‘When William was holding Ernest hostage last night, Dilys told me. In confidence. She said you were the only person William would listen to, had ever listened to, and she wished you were there.’
‘Poor Mam,’ Tina muttered. ‘Billy didn’t play the hard man with her?’
‘No, she wasn’t threatened.’
‘Thank goodness.’
‘What was Duncan’s response when you did tell him about your background?’ Jenny enquired.
Tina took a sip of water. ‘Initially, he didn’t seem bothered. Talked about how none of us can choose our family and said it made no difference to him loving me. But a week or so later, he told me straight that I wasn’t to let anyone else know I had an ex-convict for a brother, nor was I to visit my mother. Seems he’d checked up on her and didn’t fancy her being identified as Duncan Kincaid’s mother-in-law. And certainly not by the golf club crowd!’ She sighed. ‘I obeyed him. I allowed my first husband to call the shots, too.’
Jenny frowned. ‘How ? What happened?’
‘He liked the way I looked, but not much else. Nigel was a toff, or thought he was, and he sent me to elocution classes, lessons for deportment, how to dress, which knives and forks to use. If there was a means of improving me, he’d find it. Then he suggested I shouldn’t see my folks so much. I was young and I doted on him, and I agreed. One Christmas I didn’t visit or send presents, and my mother was so hurt. When we did eventually call round, there was a big row during which Nigel called them garbage and Billy turned vicious. Everything fell to pieces.’
‘You didn’t try and mend things?’ I asked.
‘Nigel wasn’t willing.’
‘After you and Nigel were divorced, didn’t you feel tempted to go and see your mother?’ Jenny enquired.
‘Yes, but soon after I met Joe Fernandez and I didn’t think he’d be thrilled by my family, either.’
‘There’s nothing to stop you getting in touch with your mother now,’ I said. ‘If you did, she’d be over the moon.’
’I’d like it, too.’ She hesitated. ‘But first I’d better have a word with Max.’
‘Max? Why Max?’
‘Because I wouldn’t want to do anything which might put our TV slot at risk. And if it came out that I was related to Billy – well, you never know how the television bigwigs or the producer or the viewers would react.’
‘Nobody’s going to blame you for the way your brother behaves,’ Jenny protested.
‘It wouldn’t make one bit of difference,’ I declared. ‘And if you went to see Dilys, you’d make her so happy.’
‘Perhaps I will.’ Tina chewed at her lip. ‘Sometime.’
I carried the melon and Palma ham starters through to the dining table. Steve had arrived and was upstairs, acting as plumber. The salmon had been placed in the oven, while assorted vegetables were prepared and waiting to be simmered on the stove. A lemon and sultana cheesecake, admittedly bought, would be served, with cream, as dessert. Call me proud, or foolish, but having been given notice I was damned if I was going to stick with a scratch dinner.
I had set out two champagne flutes and was wondering whether I should light the scented candles which floated in a bowl on the table, when the telephone rang.
‘Carol here,’ I said, answering it.
‘Hi, this is Tina. Wanted to tell you that Max and I are going to be on television on Saturday evening, this Saturday, tomorrow, at nine-thirty, prime time. Isn’t that mind-blowing?’
‘Certainly is, and all good wishes, but why Saturday evening?’
‘Because Joe has arranged for us to go on
Sats with Zachs
.’
‘Wow!’
Sats with Zachs
was a chat-come-variety show compèred by Zachary Clegg, a popular young comic. It regularly numbered amongst the ‘most viewed’ programmes, even surpassing some of the soaps.
‘And it’s definite,’ Tina continued. ‘Joe is keen to get back into my good books, so he pulled in a few favours, twisted an arm or two. Besides which, the producer is taken with Max. Reckons he has razzle-dazzle.’
‘You’re doing a work-out?’
‘A short one, and we’ll also be interviewed. I’ve bought us these trendy outfits which Max says guarantee we’ll make an impact.’
‘I’ll be watching,’ I told her.
‘Thanks. Max also asked me to say thanks again to your dad for the mention in the paper. As well as a stampede of folk enquiring about his classes, a major snack foods company has rung to say they’re interested in him appearing in an advertising campaign. I must give –’
‘Did you speak to Max about contacting your mother?’ I interrupted.
‘Yes, and he suggested I leave it for now. I must give Jenny a quick ring,’ she continued, ‘and tell her about the show. Bye.’
‘Bye, and all the best for Saturday.’
I was thinking that, for the first time in her life, Tina had friends to share things with – but how sad it was that she hesitated to share her life with her mother, when Steve came back downstairs.
‘All fixed,’ he declared.
‘I’m grateful. You’re a marvel.’
‘Anything else you need done?’
I indicated the champagne. ‘That opened, please.’
With a satisfying pop of the cork and a spray of bubbles, he opened the bottle and filled the glasses.
‘To you,’ he said, ‘with very many thanks for the high kick.’
I laughed. ‘And to you, with very many thanks for saving Ernest and for being a good boss. The best editor
The Dursleigh Siren
could have.’
‘Praise at last! Sure you mean it?’
‘Well, given the chance I might do a superior job, but –’
Steve grinned. ‘Watch it.’
‘I couldn’t. You’re definitely the best.’ The doorbell rang. ‘Though only because you have me around to guide you,’ I added, and, putting down my glass, made a swift getaway.
When I opened the front door, Lynn was standing there with Beth. I looked at them in surprise. Why were they here? They did not usually arrive without notice, in the early evening. Nor would they come when they knew I had a guest, and I had told Lynn I would be playing hostess to Steve, unless there was a good reason. A pressing reason. My heart sank. Oh no, it was a re-run of not so long ago. Lynn and Justin had quarrelled again, separated again and my daughter and granddaughter were here to –
Justin walked in from the road. ‘All well?’ he enquired, with a smile.
‘Um, yes. Steve’s here,’ I said, thankfully rejecting my fears and attempting to rearrange my thoughts.
‘We know Mr Lingard is here,’ Beth told me.
‘Can we come in?’ Lynn asked.
‘Um, yes,’ I said again.
Looking equally surprised to see the new arrivals, Steve greeted them and poured two more glasses of champagne. I went to get Beth an apple juice and, at the same time, turned down the heat on the salmon.
‘We’re here to tell you that you’re being treated to a night, that’s Saturday, tomorrow, at the Garth House Hotel, dinner, bed and breakfast,’ Lynn announced, on my return.
‘The two of you. De luxe rooms. All expenses paid,’ Justin added.
‘Why are we being treated?’ I asked.
‘And by whom?’ Steve enquired.
‘The treat is from Ernest and Carol’s dad, plus Lynn and me,’ Justin said. ‘Tony and Melanie are also making a contribution. As to why –’
‘Us two wanted to say a big thank-you for the way you two helped us see sense and get back together again,’ Lynn explained. ‘Ernest is keen to show his appreciation for you rescuing him, and Granddad simply felt you both deserved a break. Actually, it was Ernest and Granddad who went to the hotel and fixed the booking. Seems they initially spoke to some daffy receptionist, but then the manager appeared and when he realised you were the couple who’d rescued Ernest and that you, Mum, were responsible for Max working in their health club –’
‘Apparently his classes are in high demand,’ Justin inserted.
‘– Granddad persuaded him to knock off ten per cent. You also have free use of the health club and spa during your stay.’
I placed a hand to my brow. ‘Heaven forfend.’
‘When Tony and Melanie heard what we were planning,’ Lynn continued, ‘they said they’d like to contribute, too – because they are both getting so much more out of their jobs now, thanks to the pair of you.’
‘How did they hear about what you were planning?’ Steve enquired.
‘Through Ernest. He decided it’d be sensible to check that you didn’t have anything else arranged for Saturday and were free to go to the hotel,’ Justin told him. ‘So he rang
The Siren
and spoke to Melanie.’
‘Seems both of you were out of the office at the time,’ Lynn said.
Steve frowned. ‘But Melanie wouldn’t know if I had anything else arranged.’
‘True, so she consulted your ex-wife who, by the way, thought the idea was a brilliant surprise. She said that on Saturday you were going to Sussex with your son who’s playing in a football league, but you should be back by around six p.m.’
He nodded. ‘That’s right.’
‘So, folks –’ Justin spread his hands ‘– what do you say?’
I looked at Steve. What did we say? That we might be pushed into spending time together at a hotel was a total surprise. I hadn’t bargained for us being regarded quite so definitely as a pair. Steve seemed at ease, but might he object to being lumbered with me at the weekend? Could the idea of us dining together and then meeting up the next day for breakfast be a little too much?
‘At dinner you can choose whatever you want from the menu and drink whatever wine you wish,’ Lynn explained.
I grinned. ‘You mean claret in the hundred pound range?’
‘I mean within reason, though I suppose we could always take out a second mortgage or have a whip round in the village. Oh, and so far as other drinks go, Ernest discovered the bar has a choice of over seventy malt whiskies. So how’s about it?’
Steve smiled at me. ‘Shall we say yes?’
Put on the spot, what else could we say? With everyone being so kind and generous, to refuse the treat was impossible.
I nodded. ‘Yes, and thank you.’
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Wheeling my suitcase behind
me, I walked across the expanse of marble floor towards the reception desk. It was approaching six-thirty p.m. and the hotel lobby was deserted. As I walked, I surveyed my surroundings. Gold-framed oil paintings of lords and ladies hung on the wood-panelled walls, a crystal chandelier sparkled high in the ceiling, brocade chairs formed elegant sitting areas. A log fire crackled in a vast grate and copper bowls of white azaleas stood on antique tables. Every time I visited Garth House its grandeur impressed me. I smiled. And now I was to be an overnight guest.