Best Laid Plans (21 page)

The speech, the final goodbye, was rehearsed and she wanted to get it over with quickly without interruption. ‘Hear me out,’ she was going to say at the start and she would end by saying that she hoped he would understand and, if he loved her – if – then he would do the right thing and leave her alone from now on. There was to be no further contact.

She waited and the minutes ticked by.

After twenty long minutes she could wait no longer. The sun had long disappeared and spits of rain were starting to come down. She walked quickly back to her car and drove to his place, parking in the adjoining street as usual. She had a key to both the main door and his flat and she went up the stairs feeling guilty and hoping she didn’t meet anybody. There was music blaring from one of the rooms on the first floor and she hurried past, standing a moment outside Sol’s door and listening.

There was silence. She gave a tentative knock on the door and when there was no answer opened it.

Inside, it was empty.

The cheap furniture that came with it was still all there but she quickly saw that his personal stuff was gone.

‘Hi there. It’s up for rent again.’ A young man stood in the doorway, from the flat below, earphones slung loosely round his neck, dyed red hair cut in a weird shape, face mottled with the after-effects of severe acne. ‘The guy’s gone. Pretty much did a runner. Here one day, gone the next.’

‘Gone where?’

He shrugged. ‘No idea. Can I help you? Did the agents give you a key?’

Thank goodness he didn’t seem to know who she was but then in all the time she had been coming up here she had never once come across a soul.

She hesitated, needing to come up with a reason why she was here. ‘It’s too small,’ she went on, standing now and offering him a wan smile. ‘And there are too many stairs. I’ll let them know.’

‘Okay. I said I’d keep an eye on it. They’re a sloppy lot, giving out keys to anybody. You’re the fifth to visit.’ He gave her an approving look. ‘We’re a happy bunch if you want to reconsider? I’m Paul. What’s your name?’

‘Are you Australian?’ she asked avoiding answering the question.

‘How did you guess?’

‘I just did,’ she said, adding quickly that she liked it just in case he took offence.

‘We’re a real mixed bunch here,’ he said cheerfully as they returned to the hall where a bike was propped up against the wall next to a heap of coats. ‘That guy up there wasn’t a student. Older bloke. Kept himself to himself. Mind you, he did have a visitor from time to time. Good-looking blonde apparently.’ He opened the front door, let her pass.

She caught the amused look in his eyes, knew annoyingly that he
knew
. She had not fooled him for a minute.

Very aware of his eyes on her, she walked away.

Days earlier, Christine’s best laid plans took a tumble the minute she walked into the shop and saw Solomon Diamond behind the counter. What were the chances of that name being his real one?

‘You have a book for me,’ she told him as he stood to greet her.

There was a pile of supposedly reserved books on the shelf behind him and he went over to them asking for her name and contact number.

And then, as he retrieved her book, unable to stop herself she came right out with it.

‘I believe you know my daughter-in-law Monique,’ she said with a smile. ‘She’s told me all about you.’

‘She has?’ He returned her smile uncertainly. ‘Well, yes, we know each other from way back. We were at school together and then we went off to the same art college.’ The hesitation was brief but noticeable. ‘How is she these days?’

‘Pregnant,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Have you time for a coffee, Mr Diamond? I think we need to talk.’

‘About what?’ His smile was unrepentant. ‘But I’ll have a coffee with you if you like. We’ll go to the café up the road.’

Sometimes it was best to be honest, to address your fears, and Christine had no need to resort to stretching him on the rack for him to come up with a confession. Without much persuasion, seeing her face, he admitted to a bit of a fling, but Monique loved her husband and it had meant nothing and no, it would not happen again.

‘You bet it won’t, Mr Diamond,’ she told him as they sat at a table by the window with their lattes. It was a jolt to know that Frank had been right all along and a severe blow to know that her suspicions had been correct. All she knew was that it would kill Mike if he ever found out. ‘Are you staying around here for the foreseeable future because I think it might be a very good idea if you moved away?’

‘You don’t beat about the bush, do you, Christine?’

She felt her heart give a little leap. Goodness, there was something fascinating about him, such a promise in those eyes, even a hint of interest in
her
, which she was quick to pick up on and she could understand Monique falling for the charm even if she could scarcely condone it. She had been tempted once or twice during her own long marriage but she was a Catholic by birth and nurture and her marriage vows meant something to her. Now, of course, she was free again but having a fling with this man was out of the question. Looking at him calmly, meeting his gaze, she knew that she had to assert herself and quickly before she gave out any more confusing signals.

‘How attached are you to your business, Mr Diamond?’
she persisted. ‘How much would it take for you to leave town?’

His laugh rang out. ‘For Christ’s sake, woman, what film are we in? Are you trying to bribe me now?’

‘I don’t want to see my son hurt,’ she explained, glancing round to see if they were being observed and deciding that nobody was remotely interested in them. ‘I am a mother and a mother will do a lot to protect her child no matter how old that child is. Name a figure and I’ll see what I can do but you then have to remove yourself and quickly. I’ll leave you to dispose of your business.’ She stopped, appalled at her own audacity, knowing even as she said it that she was asking an awful lot of him, too much, maybe.

It was also going to cost her.

There was a long silence whilst he toyed with the spoon in his saucer. She could hardly believe she had done this, offered him a bribe, and it was so daft that she half expected him to laugh at her and walk out.

‘Okay. No problem there.’ He shrugged, a smile still playing lightly around his lips. ‘I don’t want your money, Christine Fletcher, but I will leave town if that’s what you want. As for the business, I’ll be glad to see the back of it; my assistant’s wanted to take it over for years.’

‘Well, then … there’s nothing to stop you, is there?’

‘I don’t want us to have secrets,’ Daniel told her over breakfast.

Amy was already making plans for doing up his place. Redecorating was high on the agenda and she had already bought a few bits and bobs to add a bit of interest. She had moved all her stuff in, except for the boxes of treasures that still lay up in the loft at Snape House; she was sure her mother wouldn’t mind storing them for her a while longer.

‘That sounds ominous,’ she said, glancing at the clock because even though they were still in the throes of that wonderful honeymoon period – without the getting married
bit – she needed to get into work. ‘Have we time for this now?’

‘I wasn’t quite truthful when it came to Beatrice,’ he said with a rueful smile. ‘We did have a thing going and I think that she would have liked it to continue but I had second thoughts. You know why?’

‘Because you suddenly realized you were head in heels in love with me?’ she said. ‘Look, it doesn’t matter because I’ve had my share of other men. Not many,’ she added hastily as she caught his smile. ‘Just a few.’

‘Janet did tell me about the last one.’

‘Honestly.’ She clicked her tongue. ‘She had no business to do that but then I suppose she was just concerned about me. I must drop her a line, find out how she is.’

‘I’ve done that already and she’s absolutely fine. So, let’s draw a line under the Beatrice thing, shall we?’

‘It’s already forgotten and if I don’t get a move on, I’m going to be last in and I don’t like that. And nor does Mike. I’m going to be an aunt, by the way, which will make you an uncle!’

‘Great. She can be a flower girl when we get married. Or if she’s a boy he can be a page. What do you think?’

‘I think,’ she grabbed a piece of toast, ‘that if that was a proposal you’ve picked a very bad moment. Got to go.’ She kissed him and he held her close a moment.

‘I’ve got to go,’ she repeated, glancing ruefully at her blouse. ‘Look at this. I’ve got butter on it and I haven’t time to change.’

‘I love you, Amy,’ he said.

‘I love you, too, and it’s a yes by the way.’ Ducking away from him, she grabbed her bag and jacket, blowing him a kiss on the way out.

C
hristine was babysitting, giving Monique a break. Come to think of it, she was always giving Monique a break. She dared not voice it, not to herself and certainly not to Mike but Monique was a bit lackadaisical when it came to the child. There was no doubt that she loved him, in her way, but she did not actually show it very often. Her maternal instincts, if not entirely non-existent were sadly on the low side, and she was more than happy to hand him over to Christine at any opportunity.

Wasn’t this exactly what she had once wished for? Of course she was thrilled with him and delighted in looking after him but she did wish Monique would show a little more responsibility, for after all she was his mother. She was also beginning to regret the day she had offered them a home at Snape House; they showed no signs of wanting to move out and why should they when her presence made it so convenient for Monique to pursue her life unhindered by her child?

She had said in her Christmas note this year what a good mother Monique was but then she always exaggerated the positive in those notes. This year, though, she had been perfectly truthful when she said how well Mike was running the business in the absence of his father. And she had no need to exaggerate how happy Amy was these days for it was plain to see.

As for baby Alexander looking like his father, well that was absolutely true, too.

She heard Mike’s car, peeped through the window and saw him lifting out the tree. Good. She would decorate it this afternoon with Monique, who had offered to help. Despite her new-found reservations about her daughter-in-law she was determined to keep their relationship intact, although ironically, just as that had subtly changed over the past year, so had the one between the sisters-in-law. It was so much better these days although that could be something to do with the fact that Amy had finally found love and was much more relaxed. The other day, for instance, she had walked in on the pair of them and found them giggling together like schoolgirls. Amy loved little Alexander to bits and in the absence of a surfeit of mummy-cuddling she and Amy between them provided more than enough.

For a minute, she thought of Frank as she opened the box of Christmas decorations that she had got down from the loft, stuff the kids had made. It would please Frank that the tree this year would look a little more lived-in if a shade less elegant. Seeing her sitting on the floor, Oscar came bounding over to sit beside her and she stroked his soft furry head. Alexander was starting to grumble and she stood up and went over, picking him up at once, cuddling him and planting a kiss on top of his baby head with its soft brown curls.

It would be hard this year, especially on Boxing Day, but they would cope as a family and see it through and this year Amy would have proper support from Daniel, a man of whom she thoroughly approved. She had not approved of him
too
much in case in some perverse way she somehow put her daughter off him but you only had to look at them to see that they were head over heels in love.

She would not breathe a word to Mike about his wife’s affair – that was a closed book – and even though she had
been sorely tempted to tell Monique the truth surrounding Solomon Diamond’s sudden departure, there were some things best left unsaid.

The business was slowly creeping up again with some of Mike’s ideas bearing fruit and he was relishing the opportunity presented to him, just as, years ago, Frank had also relished it. It was tragic that Frank had to die in order for Mike to show them what he was made of but some day when and if they met up again, she would take great pleasure in telling her husband how wrong he had been.

‘Bloody Christmas trees!’ Mike said with feeling, carrying it into the room. ‘I’m scratched to ribbons. I don’t know why we bother.’

‘We bother because it’s tradition and don’t be grumpy,’ she told him, feeling the excitement that the first sight and pine smell of the tree caused. ‘Stick it in the corner. Monique’s going to help with the decorations later and Amy’s coming over as well.’

‘Are you sure you’re okay, Mum?’ he asked following her into the kitchen where preparations were in full swing; everybody would be here this evening for a pre-Christmas meal. ‘I know it’s going to be tough. We wouldn’t mind, you know, if you wanted to abandon it this year.’

‘Abandon Christmas? Absolutely not,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. We have Alexander now and he will keep us busy and take our minds off it.’

He was gone. Sol was gone.

Monique wondered if she would ever have got round to finishing it between them, but he had saved her the bother by disappearing. And now she had Alexander who looked like
her
and everybody said what a sweet baby he was.

She had got away with it and sometimes she looked at Alexander and could see Mike.

The trouble was she could sometimes see Sol, too.

She loved Alexander, of course, but her aunt was right
for the females in her family were strangely disinterested in children so it was just as well that Mike and the rest of the Fletchers all fussed over him in a way that quite bewildered her. Perhaps it would be better when he was older and she could hold a reasonable conversation with him.

Babies, in her eyes, were grossly overrated creatures.

A few days before Christmas, Christine spent the afternoon decorating the tree. Monique helped her, pretty in pink, her slim figure regained and looking at her Christine suddenly realized that she was over it, that her daughter-in-law had made her decision to stay firmly in the fold of this family so nothing more needed to be said. There was an awkward moment following Solomon’s disappearance when she had seemed withdrawn but that moment passed and when the baby was born and everybody instantly remarked how like Monique he looked she captured the relief in her daughter-in-law’s face.

Yet Monique was Monique and because the maternal gene seemed to have bypassed her, Christine felt a grandmotherly responsibility to ensure that Alexander did not miss out on love, although with a father who doted on him and an aunt who likewise thought the sun shone out of him and her own protective instincts on high alert there was no danger of that. Alexander was very like Monique, although the dark brown curls that were starting to appear were a worry, but yesterday for the first time she had caught something in his eyes that reminded her so much of Mike.

Or was that wishful thinking? Whether or not Alexander was her true grandchild was of no consequence because she had already developed a bond with him and she would keep the secret to her grave.

The fairy lights were the final touch to the tree, the
pièce de résistance.
Christine tackled the fickle Christmas lights,
hastily put away last year in a very higgledy-piggledy fashion so that they were tangled to high heaven and, with Monique’s help, the two of them laughing helplessly, untangled them at last and draped them all around the tree. It was exhausting work, the needles were sharp and the childish decorations did not marry particularly well with the expensive and delicate silver ornaments of last year but she was finally ready to switch them on.

‘Right. We’re ready to go. I’m going to switch them on, Mike,’ she called. ‘Come through, everybody.’

They gathered round and she handed round glasses of champagne, for with Amy newly engaged to be married they had something to celebrate. The tree looked beautiful standing by the window. It was growing dark outside with sadly no sign of the snowflakes of last year.

‘Are we taking bets on whether they work or not?’ Mike asked, holding the baby and pointing out the tree to him. ‘It’ll be a miracle if they do.’

She caught her breath for he was not to know those were his father’s very words at the same moment last year.

‘Of course they’ll work. Have faith,’ she told him, returning his smile. ‘Fingers crossed everybody. Your father …’ she gulped as emotion flooded through her, ‘he usually did a countdown. Shall we?’

‘For heaven’s sake, are we completely mad?’ Amy laughed up at Daniel. ‘I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for coming into this family?’

‘I certainly do.’ Daniel put his arm round her and raised his glass. ‘Cheers, everybody.’

‘Cheers!’

With Oscar catching their excitement and giving a little bark, Christine flicked the switch.