A Place in the Country (29 page)

 

chapter 68

Caroline woke late
the next morning. The rattle of breakfast dishes and the smell of coffee and frying bacon came from the kitchen where Cassandra was obviously already at work.

She stretched luxuriously; the breeze from the open window brought a waft of hay and, pleasantly, of cow.
Her
cows, she now called them affectionately; her coppery-chestnut Herefords, creatures of beauty with their large soulful eyes. They even had long eyelashes.
And
enormous cowpats, but she knew that was a sign of good nutrition and therefore good milk. They were shooed out of the field every evening by the farmer and his black-and-white Border collie who was no relation to Frisky, old Laddie's dog, the one who just lounged in the pub and never so much as moved unless food came his way. The farmer's dog worked for its living and was a joy to watch. Of course Caroline had learned by now to avoid the lane at milking times; you could get stuck behind a slow-moving cow posse for ten frustrating minutes.

The smell of bacon finally got to her. She leapt out of bed and put on her old chenille bathrobe. She really had to buy a new one, not only was this falling apart at the seams but the chenille had worn in places, leaving bald patches. Cassandra would definitely not like it.

She leaped into the shower; two minutes flat, then out again, found her last pair of clean underwear—she really must do some laundry today; tugged the old yellow sweater over her head, then skinny black yoga pants for the yoga she had always meant to do but somehow never gotten around to; wafted the brush over her black hair, shoved up the bangs with her fingers, put on her glasses and ran down the steps in search of breakfast.

She paused, smiling in the kitchen doorway. “Good morning, Mom,” she said. “Good morning, Dad.” She went over and kissed them both.

Henry took the basket of croissants he'd bought an hour ago at Wright's in the village and put it on the table. He got the French butter and the Bonne Maman peach jam from the fridge while Cassandra doled out streaky bacon, fried crisp enough to fall apart when you touched it which was the way she knew her family liked it. She slid the over-easy eggs, fried in the sizzling bacon fat, onto their plates.

“Fried bread, anyone?” she asked making Caroline groan. “Mom,
no
! This is wonderful. Thank God for you.”

“I think we have a great deal more to thank God for this morning than simply old me,” Cassandra said, not looking the least bit “old” in narrow jeans and a blue shirt nipped round her middle with a thin gold belt.

“Asia, you mean?” Henry said. “Thank God for the successful resolution of that problem?”

“It's not resolved yet,” Caroline said. “I have to take her home.”

“No need to worry,” Henry said, mopping up a bit of egg that had trickled down his chin. “Your mom and I will take her back.”

“What? But you can't. James would expect me to look after his daughter.”

“You already do,” Cassandra said. “
Issy.
Remember?”

Caroline frowned. Was she ignoring her own daughter's feelings in all this? Issy had been so good, she had dried the child's tears, stopped her howling, even given her the precious cat to hold for comfort. Issy had told her it was easy being a big sister; she quite enjoyed the role, and in some odd way it seemed to Caroline that because of the new half sister, Issy had even come to terms with James. She couldn't simply allow her parents to escort Asia home. She would do it. It was her duty.

She squashed her egg onto a slice of toast, arranged a strip of bacon on top of it, cut the toast in two, folded it into a sandwich and took an enormous bite. “Great,” she said with her mouth full. “God, Mom, your breakfasts are the best. We should serve them in the restaurant, they'll come from miles around for Cassandra's bacon and egg butties.”

“Thank you.” Cassandra anointed a croissant with the peach jam, and said, “Have you forgotten something important?”

Caroline stopped and stared at her. “What?”

“Finish chewing that sandwich first and think about it. Didn't I teach you any manners?”

Caroline grinned, feeling like a child again. “Sorry,” she said. “It's just so good.”

“Makes pigs of us all,” Henry agreed, sopping up the last of his egg with his toast, then he remembered where bacon came from and said, “Oops, sorry, perhaps I shouldn't have said pigs, didn't make the connection…”

Caroline laughed, then suddenly realized what Cassandra was talking about. “Oh, God! How could I forget my own daughter's
birthday
?”

“I was wondering that myself.” Cassandra poured more coffee then went and fetched a gaily-wrapped parcel tied with an orange ribbon bow. A birthday card was tucked into it. “It's a black dress, like the red one,” she told Caroline. “I hope you at least remembered to get your child a gift,” she added, because what with all that had gone down the last few days she was not at all sure Caroline had remembered.

“I did.” Caroline thought of her gift, it was up in her room, waiting to be wrapped. Now, thinking about it, perhaps she would not wrap it. It was more appropriate, more significant just the way it was.

“What are we doing about a party?” Henry asked, because in his experience anybody with a birthday had a party.

“I was just thinking about that.” Jim's voice came from the door, followed by a knock. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

“Well, you've missed the eggs,” Cassandra said, looking pleased to see him. He was a bit young for Caroline but she liked him, enjoyed his straightforward caring approach with her daughter. “Still, there's plenty of coffee and croissants.”

“No éclairs, I'm afraid,” Caroline said, remembering.

Jim took the chair next to hers and Cassandra handed him a plate with a still-warm croissant. Henry pushed over the butter and jam.

“Just the jam, thanks,” Jim said. “Ahh, good, peach,” he added, earning the reward of a smile from Cassandra whose favorite it also was.

She poured a mug of coffee for him and went to brew another pot. “You simply have to get one of those Italian machines,” she said over her shoulder but Caroline wasn't listening.

She was watching Jim spreading jam on his croissant with the same precision he must use when he planed a piece of wood. He had the longest fingers. The few dark hairs on the back of his hands expanded into a soft crop up his lean but muscular arms, making her wonder about the rest of his body. She stopped that thought immediately. This was
breakfast
and she was having immoral thoughts. She laughed out loud, amused.

“What's funny?” Jim stopped what he was doing to look at her.

“I was wondering about the word ‘immoral.' Thinking how I sometimes used it in the wrong context,” she said, smugly because she didn't think he would know what she was talking about anyway.

“‘Lustful' is the word you want,” he said, quietly so only she could hear. Or that's what he thought.

“I always found ‘lustful' to be a very opportune word.” Cassandra had heard though. She was standing at the kitchen counter with her back to them and they looked astonished at each other.

“Hmm, well … ‘birthday party' is the word on
my
mind,” Jim said, polishing off the croissant and offering his mug for a refill. “I wanted to tell you my studio is available, rent-free for a special event like this. I even know a young guy round here who deejays, plus my sister has colored lights and I'm good at helium balloons. And you and Maggie are good at snacks.”

“Me too.” Cassandra came over to stand next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Let's do it,” she said, pleased.

“But what will they drink?” Henry asked. “Remember, they're only kids, Issy's turning sixteen not twenty-one.”

“Fruit punch,” Cassandra said.

Caroline wondered how they would get anyone to come at the last minute, but Jim said, “That's how youth operates, right here, right now, let's go … besides it's a Saturday night and they're always looking for somewhere to go.”

“Somebody had better tell Issy,” Caroline said. “And there's something else I have to tell her. I've decided
I'm
to take Asia back to Singapore and I want Issy to come with me.”

There was a long silence while they all thought about Issy, then Cassandra finally said, “You're right, of course.
You
are responsible for James's child while she is here. And Issy
is
her half sister. Asia has no one else.”

“It's only appropriate,” Henry agreed.

“I'll miss you,” was what Jim said, looking into Caroline's eyes. She was very glad she had not put on the old chenille bathrobe after all. But she did wonder what Issy would think about her plan. First, though, she had to give Issy her birthday present.

 

chapter 69

Caroline's phone rang.
It was Issy.

“Mom? Did you
forget
?”

“Of course not.” Caroline crossed her fingers behind her back and rolled her eyes at Cassandra. Little white lies made other people feel better. She said, “It just got a bit busy round here and anyhow now here I am singing ‘Happy Birthday to You.'” She proceeded to do just that, with the added a capella of the others in the background. She heard Issy laugh and thanked God one more time that morning.

“Actually,” she said, “we were talking about your party.”

“
What!
What
party
?” Issy who was in the kitchen at the pub turned to frown at Sam who was standing behind her with Asia, holding Blind Brenda who did not want to be held and scratched as she wriggled out of her arms.

“Ow,” Asia said.

“It's not Brenda's fault,” Sam told her. “You picked her up and she didn't want to be picked up, that's all.” Asia whined and rubbed the scratch and Sam said not to be a baby, so Asia didn't bother to cry and listened to what Issy was saying instead.

“
A party!
” Asia exclaimed when she heard, and so did Sam.

Issy grinned at Sam and gave her a thumbs-up. “Definitely,” she said to her mother. “Seven o'clock tonight at the Thompson Manor stables … yeah, the studio I mean. I'll have to work the phones, call you back later, tell you how many.”

“I need to see you before then,” her mother said. “I'll come and get you in half an hour.”

“I have to make phone calls…”

“It's important.”

Her mother sounded serious so Issy agreed. “Wow!” she said, high-fiving Sam and then Asia so she wouldn't feel left out
. “We're having a birthday party.”

“Can I come?” Asia asked.

“Of course you're coming. Everybody is coming. Sam, you call your lot and I'll call mine. Except Lysander.”

“Who is Lysander?” Asia never seemed to stop asking questions.

“Nobody you'd ever want to know,” Sam told her, settling back to some heavy-duty iPhone work before Issy's mother arrived.

Issy flinched when Asia gave her a poke in the ribs. “I have a pretty dress,” Asia said, gazing up at her, smiling.

“I'll bet you do,” Issy said, smiling back.

*   *   *

Caroline was on the phone
with Maggie. She asked her to get Sarah in to help and Lily if possible, and Maggie said she would send Jesus off to the market to pick up a dozen or so barbecued chickens and that she would make a hundred or so spicy tacos. Caroline would fix a couple of gallons of potato salad.

“Remember,” Caroline reminded Maggie, “teenage boys will eat anything and everything you put in front of them. The girls will pretend they never eat but soon as the boys are out of the way they'll devour everything that's left. I'll also do hot dogs,” she added. “And burgers. And I'll call Wright's and order buns, and also a cake.”

“Don't forget the ice cream,” Maggie reminded her.

“Chocolate? Or vanilla?”

Maggie asked the girls and they said both.

Caroline said Cassandra was in charge of the non-booze—punch she called it, though she thought they should check the boys for liquor on the way in. “You can't trust a teenage boy,” she said. “At least, that's what I've heard. And by the way, Jim is in charge of decorations and the deejay.”

There was a whoop of delight when Maggie passed that information on to the girls.

“All you have to do now,” Maggie put down the phone and looked at her decidedly scruffy just-out-of-bed bunch, “is wash your hair and think of what to wear.”

“What about presents?” Sam was bursting to give Issy hers.

“Later,” Maggie said but Issy was already tearing into the blue foil-wrapped packet Sam had given her. Asia hung over her shoulder watching as she held up the little stretch-ribbed black cami. “
Perfect!
” Issy exclaimed. “Sam, it's perfect for tonight. With jeans, of course.”

Maggie sighed, thinking back to the days when sixteen-year-olds wore dresses to parties.

“And heels,” Sam added.

Issy beamed. “Right. Of course.”

Maggie thought she might as well give Issy her present as well. “From Jesus and me,” she said.

It was a pair of simple gold hoops, not too big, not too small; “Just big enough,” Issy said, kissing her. “I love you, Maggie,” she whispered.

“But
I
don't have a birthday present for you,” Asia said, her narrow little face solemn, blackberry eyes gleaming sadly.

“
You
are my present. My new little sister,” Issy said, then because she felt she was getting too soppy, she gave Asia a little shove and Asia shoved back and then they were racing up the stairs laughing.

 

chapter 70