A Perfect Home (20 page)

Claire grabbed it from him as they passed her.

I can still feel your lips on mine, more delicious than any cake or champagne.

She quickly turned her phone off and pushed it to the back of the tea-towel drawer. Then, lifting down the Moorcroft vase from the dresser, she started to arrange the lilies.

‘I do love you, Claire,' said William, coming up behind her and encircling her in a tight embrace. She felt sure that he would feel her heart thumping through her shirt and wonder what was wrong but he quickly released her and headed for the door.

‘I'll just go down to the summer house and do a few things before supper. Call me when it's ready.'

Chapter Eighteen

“I know how lucky I am …” says Claire.'

The lilies lasted a week. The air of the house hung thick with their sweet, heavy scent, making Claire feel slightly sick. In that time she had taken the children swimming three times, been to town to buy them new shoes, had two picnics with Sally and the children, four trips to Waitrose, two to the organic farm shop, had the car serviced, taken Macavity to the vet with a cut nose, sent out numerous orders she'd received from her website, sent some cushions to a shop in Tunbridge Wells, cut out and appliquéd twenty peg bags for the gallery in town, entertained and fed her parents-in-law, and had been out for a meal with William.

In that time she had also had forty-two texts from Stefan and she knew that he had photographed a converted windmill near Cambridge and a gothic mansion in Yorkshire, got a plane from Heathrow to New York, photographed a Manhattan loft apartment, bought a new jacket, been to an opening at the Museum of Modern Art, had dinner with an actor friend, seen a play on Broadway, and at the time she was throwing the wilting lilies on the compost heap he was somewhere above the Atlantic on his way home.

Two days left until she saw him again.

She had been nervous about the meal with William. She couldn't envisage them sitting across a table from each other with anything to say.

His parents had arrived later than arranged on Friday night, his mother showering the children with presents, cuddles, and games and then expecting Claire to get them into bed and asleep in time for the adults to eat at a reasonable hour.

‘You should be much firmer with them,' she said, as Claire stopped stirring the risotto yet again to put Ben back to bed and to ask Emily and Oliver to get back into theirs.

‘They're just very excited about your visit,' said Claire through gritted teeth. ‘That's why they can't sleep.'

‘Lights out, door closed, no nonsense,' said her mother-in-law. ‘That's how it was for William. He knew I meant it.'

‘Maybe you could go up and have a go then, dear,' suggested her father-in-law from behind his glass of whisky.

‘What a good idea,' said Claire. ‘I'll get on with this risotto, or we'll never get to eat.'

‘You look much too thin,' said her mother-in-law, as Claire came downstairs dressed in a simple black silk dress the following evening. ‘You girls and your ridiculous diets. I don't know why you can't accept that you should be filling out by the time you get to your age. You can't hold back time.'

‘I haven't been on a diet,' protested Claire.

‘It's probably running around after three children that keeps her so lovely and slim,' said her father-in-law, smiling at her.

‘I knew three would be too many for you to cope with,' put in her mother-in-law. ‘I told that to William before Ben was born. He agreed with me. He said he'd never wanted another child, but it was too late by then. You'd got your way.'

‘I cope as well with three as I did with two,' Claire insisted, slipping into a pair of black stilettos and trying to stop herself from stabbing her mother-in-law with a very spiky heel.

‘And they're a credit to you,' said her father-in-law kindly.

‘Thank you,' said Claire, wondering how he had managed to live with his wife for so long.

‘I'm only saying it's a strain on you both. Poor William, working all hours to keep you all.'

‘I do contribute financially as well,' said Claire, trying to keep her voice steady. ‘Emily Love is already making a profit.'

‘Well maybe when Ben's in full-time school, you'll be able to get a job again,' her mother-in-law continued.

‘Are you ready to go?' asked William, coming downstairs.

‘Definitely,' said Claire, stepping out of the door as quickly as she could.

Claire needn't have worried that they would have nothing to say to each other over dinner. From the moment they opened the car doors William was talking about ‘Project House'. As they drove into town he was distracted by a site on which three new houses were being built.

‘I can't understand it. How did they ever get permission to build those hideous eyesores here?'

‘I like them,' she said. ‘They look like nice family homes with fair-sized gardens too. It would be lovely to have a view of the river and be so close to town.'

‘Modern monstrosities,' said William with a shudder, and then he started talking about their house again.

On and on he talked over the meal: worries about the roof; windows that he wanted to replace; a plan to move the outside tap. By the time their puddings were served, Claire realised she had hardly said a word all night. She took a chance to change the conversation when William stopped talking to take a large mouthful of chocolate cheesecake.

‘I wonder if your mother's got the children into bed yet?'

‘My parents are so good to come and look after them,' he said. ‘It's a shame they don't live nearer.'

‘The children always seem to enjoy seeing them,' said Claire, delicately cracking the sugar crust of her crème brûlée with her spoon. She was imagining what it would be like to be sharing a meal in this intimately lit restaurant with Stefan.

‘I've been having more thoughts about an ensuite in the guest room,' William paused to shovel in another mouthful of cheesecake.

‘Good idea,' she said, not really listening.

‘It would be easier when my parents come to stay – we might be able to tempt them to come more often.'

‘Actually, I think the guest room is fine as it is,' she said, suddenly taking notice. ‘An ensuite would never fit into that room.'

‘Emily's bedroom next door to it is a very good shape and size for a small bathroom.' He took a pen from his shirt pocket and started drawing a sketch on a paper napkin. ‘Toilet here, sink unit, maybe a double one here, shower where the cupboard is. Knock a door into the guest room. Move the bed against this wall here.'

Claire stopped him. ‘That's all very nice, but just where is Emily supposed to sleep?'

‘Above the kitchen.'

‘There's nothing but air above the kitchen. It's only a single storey.'

‘Yes,' he said. ‘At the moment. But what if we build on top of it?

‘How?'

‘I've planned it all out,' he went on, drawing sketches on a separate napkin. ‘Lower the kitchen ceiling. Raise the roof so that it's more like a large attic space. There would be plenty of room to stand up in the middle. Cupboards down the sides, like this; a dormer window at the back. Redesign the whole kitchen below, new units, new floor, get rid of that old Welsh dresser.'

‘But I love the kitchen, it's my favourite room.'

‘Its got very shabby since Ben's been born, it needs a complete overhaul. We'd need planning permission, of course. It could take time to win them round. They're all bloody control freaks in the local planning department. They let those horrible new houses go up, but I bet we'll have to fight for this.'

‘And it would all be so that your parents could have an ensuite bathroom when they come to stay?' asked Claire, trying not to sound annoyed.

‘Remember how good they have been to us, darling.' Claire thought she could detect a slight edge in his voice that stopped her from going any further.

‘It will be nice to see the summer house finished,' she said and then William, distracted by his new favourite project, started talking about the tongue and groove he was going to panel the inside walls with and the insulation he was going to put in the ceiling. ‘Have I told you my mother wants to buy us a hot tub as our Christmas present?'

‘That was nice, wasn't it?' he said as they drove home, giving Claire's knee a squeeze with his hand.

‘Yes, lovely. Thank you.' Claire let herself daydream about Stefan as she stared out into the night.

‘Couldn't believe the bill though. We can't afford to be doing that sort of thing too much.'

‘No,' she sighed.

‘Not if we're doing this attic conversion and ensuite and re-modelling the kitchen.'

She changed the conversation. ‘My mother wants us to go to Cornwall with her for a few days to a cottage.'

‘It's a bloody long way for a few days,' he said. ‘I can't go. God knows, I've little enough time to get everything done as it is. I have to finish the summer house and I need to sand down the living room floor over the next few weeks. It's covered in scratches from Ben and his ride-on toys.'

‘I haven't noticed the scratches,' she said, looking out into the darkness beyond the window.

‘And there's still that stain you made with the raspberries. I'll have to re-wax the whole floor. We won't be able to use it for a few days.'

‘Then maybe the best time to do it is when I'm in Cornwall with the children.'

‘What about me?' he asked. ‘Are you going to leave me on my own?'

‘It's only for a few days. It will be nice for the children to have a bit of a holiday and I'd like to see my mother. I'm worried about her. Lately she hasn't seemed herself at all.'

‘Thank God for that,' he said.

‘William!'

‘It was a joke, darling!' He squeezed her knee again. ‘I was thinking about encouraging her to join something – an evening class or maybe a walking group,'

‘A walking group? They'd never put up with her. They'd probably all walk much faster trying to get away from her. They'd probably run!'

‘I suppose that's another joke?' she said, looking at his silhouetted profile and deciding that sometimes she really didn't like her husband at all. ‘It's not funny. It's mean.'

‘You're being overly sensitive about her, as usual.'

He swung the car into the drive and stopped with a jolt. The front door opened and the bright light of the hallway flooded out. William's mother stood in the porch in her peach silk dressing gown. She put her hand up to wave. William got out of the car and went to greet her.

Chapter Nineteen

‘Set amongst idyllic country scenery …'

‘I'm afraid I can't do Friday,' Sally said as they sat on a bench at the adventure playground watching the children careering up and down climbing frames and rope swings. ‘Anna needs me to do an extra day at the gallery. God knows what I'll do with the boys. Can you change your dental appointment and have my boys on Friday and I'll have your children next week?”

Claire's heart sank; she couldn't possibly wait until the following week to see Stefan. Sally sensed her disappointment.

‘It's just that the gallery is really busy with holidaymakers.' She smiled. ‘Its your own fault, Claire, people are coming from all over to buy your stuff, especially those new flower brooches you've just started to make, they're flying out of the door.' She pushed one large breast towards Claire. ‘Look I've even bought one. The bright pink ribbon petal brooch looked jaunty against Sally's blue and white striped T-shirt.

‘You didn't have to buy one,' said Claire. ‘I could have made you one.'

‘You can make me one to go in my hair,' Sally pushed a tousled strand of blonde hair up above her ear. I want it to go here; a really big red one on a clip. I think they'd sell well too, I'm sure Anna would try them out in the gallery for you.

‘Mmm,' said Claire, as she desperately tried to work out what she could possibly do with the children on Friday afternoon. The thought came to her – did she dare?

Sally waved her hand in front of Claire's face. ‘Are you listening? Did you hear my wonderful new idea?'

Claire looked up at her with a sigh,

‘I think I'm just going to have to resign myself to asking William's mother to look after them on Friday.'

‘Great', said Sally grinning. ‘You can ask her to have my boys as well'. As she looked at Claire's horrified face she let out a guffaw of laughter. ‘Even William's mother doesn't deserve having to look after my two hooligans.'

‘Where did you say you were going again?' William's mother was unpacking pieces of a large carved oak plant stand from the boot of her car. ‘This will look wonderful in the conservatory when it's put together. It just needs something to cascade down the pillar – some sort of fern or trailing geranium.'

‘I'm going to see an extremely chic gift shop that's very interested in stocking my work,' said Claire answering her question and finding she quite enjoyed making up the lie. ‘They saw my cushions on my website and they say they'd like to see some more of my designs. They're really enthusiastic, the lady on the phone said my work is just the sort of thing her upmarket customers will love – it all seems very posh.'

William's mother sniffed. ‘I'm surprised that people want things made out of second-hand fabric. Why don't you just get some lovely lawn from Liberty – so much nicer than dirty old material that could have come from anywhere?'

Claire smiled benignly at the older woman. She didn't care what she said to her, she was going to see Stefan and that was all that mattered. She had received a text the day before:

Plane just touched down. Not long now. X