Blood Ties (8 page)

‘Not the weekend. That will be . . .’ she paused and reached for Robert’s hand. ‘That was a nice thought. I meant that I’m not happy about Greywood. About running away,’ she added to remind Robert of her reason.

Ruby quickly returned with a pile of papers and Robert shuffled through them. ‘You need a secretary for all these, Rube. Let’s hope it’s just because you’re new at the school.’ He skimmed the letters. ‘These are for you to take care of, Erin. You need to send a copy of Ruby’s birth certificate and her vaccination record. I’ll handle the one with the large cheque.’ Robert grinned, already committed to the huge expense of private education.

‘I thought you’d already paid the fees.’

‘I have. This is for the Vienna trip in August. The school’s had it planned for a few months but because Ruby’s new, we have to get all the forms back quickly in order for her to go.’ Robert knew that if Ruby was going to make the most of life at Greywood, she would be expected to take part in everything on offer.

‘
Vienna?
’ The word was gossamer-thin. Erin’s eyes narrowed in disbelief.

Ruby hopped from one foot to the other, barely able to contain her excitement. ‘We’re going to the Vienna Conservatory to learn stuff from their teachers and I’ll get to play the piano at the Opera House. We’re going to watch loads of stuff too and there’ll be a disco and—’

‘Vienna? That’s in Austria.’ Erin’s voice, although barely audible, interrupted her excited daughter.

‘I’ll get to go on a plane, Mum. At last!’

Erin sat perfectly still, her rigid self-control allowing nothing apart from slight shock, which was natural, to show. Only a tremor in her jaw offered any indication of her feelings.

‘It’ll do Ruby no end of good and give us the chance to get away for a few days ourselves.’ Robert placed a hand on her leg but she flinched. ‘Christ, I thought you’d be pleased, not turn into a corpse.’

He stood and cleared the plates, baffled by Erin’s recent behaviour. It was completely out of character. A week for their daughter in a cultural hot-house, knowing Erin as he did, should have sent her cart-wheeling around the kitchen. One of the things Robert admired most about his wife was the way she had always put her daughter first and respected her needs.

He clattered plates into the dishwasher, making a point of being heavy-handed.

‘It’s not that I’m not pleased . . .’ Erin trailed off, an expression of agony on her face. ‘It’s just . . .’ she bowed her head, ‘. . . it’s just that she
can’t
go.’

‘Nonsense,’ Robert replied, deciding not to have any of this. Ruby was going on the school trip to Vienna if he had to escort her himself. ‘At her age, Ruby does have a say in matters, you know. You don’t own the girl.’ He noticed Erin’s skin twitch, her eyes glass over. He carried on. ‘And don’t forget to fill in those other forms and return the certificates to the head teacher’s secretary. It’s important.’

Robert dried his hands, the temporary distraction of doing the dishes having cooled him somewhat. If Erin had misgivings about the Vienna trip, he would have to understand and cajole her into what he believed was right for Ruby. He reckoned the weekend in Somerset would help. He just wasn’t sure when to mention Louisa.

The M3 was a breeze and the A303 to Martock was similarly quiet. Robert, who transformed into a beast when stuck in traffic, was in an excellent mood, despite the strange news he’d received from Tanya that morning. Erin’s hair rippled in the wind, her rigid smile a battle against the rush of air. Robert had considered putting the top up but both Erin and Ruby were happy to be whipped about. Just getting out of London seemed to be lifting everyone’s spirits.

‘Before you ask, Rube, about another forty minutes.’ Robert grinned in the rear-view mirror. He’d wrapped up most of his pressing work by mid-afternoon and was in time to fetch Ruby from school at the end of her first week. They’d driven to Fresh As A Daisy, Erin’s flower shop, and Robert reassured her once more that Tanya was perfectly capable of running the shop for a day.

‘Are you sure Tanya’s trustworthy?’ Erin asked again as they turned off the main road and headed down a country lane. She smoothed down her hair and wrapped a cerise scarf around her head, not wanting to look a total mess when they arrived.

‘Tanya’s been with me for years. She’s well trained.’ Robert flashed a grin at his wife, taking his eyes off the narrow country lanes for as long as he dared. ‘Just relax and enjoy the weekend.’ He briefly gripped the wheel tighter than necessary, not because of the sharp corners or narrow road but because he couldn’t prevent Tanya’s strange words from earlier seeping into his mind. Convinced there must be a rational explanation, he was determined not to let it ruin the weekend. He decided not to confront Erin until they were back home.

The Maples Country House Hotel stood squarely next to the church and caught the rays of the descending sun. The western corner of the building appeared tangerine as the typical ginger stone of the area was illuminated, the shadows from the surrounding trees casting a moving lacy dance across the façade.

‘Very nice,’ Erin said cautiously, eyeing the building and the scattering of guests that were converging on the drive. ‘I imagine Louisa will be really pleased to see you.’

Robert sighed at the slightly bitter inflection in Erin’s words. ‘She’s here for her cousin’s wedding predominantly. And we’re here to relax.’ He got out and shut the car door. Before he went to the boot for their luggage, he rested his hands on Erin’s shoulders and he planted a tender kiss on her mouth. The last thing he wanted was for Erin to feel threatened. ‘Catching up with Louisa will be pleasant, yes. I doubt her husband, Willem what’s-his-name, will have any problem with our meeting.’

‘Then why say his name so . . .’ Erin squinted up at him, her eyes narrowed to slits from the low sun, ‘. . . so sourly?’

No more sourly than you mentioned Louisa, Robert thought but decided not to say. The weekend couldn’t be ruined from the outset.

‘Oh Dad, it looks perfect,’ Ruby exclaimed, squeezing out from the rear of the car. ‘And look. Horses.’ She pointed to a pair of piebald animals clopping lazily through the village. ‘Let’s find our rooms!’

No, the weekend couldn’t be ruined, Robert thought as he watched Ruby’s slightly gangly limbs flapping towards the hotel entrance. She was becoming a woman but hadn’t quite forgotten how to be a little girl. He hauled their two bags from the car and walked briskly after her.

Checking in was a slow process although Robert didn’t mind the wait. The hotel was obviously full due to the wedding party and he realised he’d been lucky to secure two rooms at short notice. He scanned the reception area, pretending – to himself mostly – that he was admiring the collection of hunting scenes and countryside paintings and antiques that furnished the hall, when really he was searching for Louisa’s face among the wedding guests. He had always told her how her face stood out from others, something about her intense jade eyes and auburn hair. Quite a hindrance, he’d thought, to draw such attention to oneself in her line of work.

Then, fleetingly, he thought he saw Louisa disappear into the ladies’ across the hallway. Just a knot of red above a long, pale neck and the unmistakable height, the graceful stride.

‘What are you staring at?’ Erin glanced along Robert’s line of vision and shrugged. ‘Look, it’s our turn.’ She nudged Robert’s arm and eased him forward to the desk. With Erin at his side, her arm wrapped round his waist, he didn’t like to ask for Louisa’s room number.

Check-in complete, Robert guided his family to the small lift, his eyes darting to the ladies’ room several times. The lift door opened and they stood back while an elderly couple wrangled a huge suitcase out of the tiny compartment. Then Ruby skipped into the lift and pressed the button to hold the doors. Erin joined her and lastly, with the two weekend bags, Robert slid inside.

‘Robert?’ There was no mistaking the voice. He stuck a foot between the closing doors as she approached. The smile, way too wide for her face, reached him first, followed by her lovely green eyes, now framed by black businesslike glasses.

‘I thought it was you,’ Robert said, unable to help a broad smile in return. His body became wedged between the doors, causing them to open and close with a clunky sigh. ‘They’re nice,’ he added, having no hands free to indicate that he meant her glasses.

‘Dad, you’re breaking the lift.’

They stared at each other silently for a time-warped couple of seconds. Robert didn’t know whether to step out of the lift or offer a hasty ‘I’ll catch up with you later’. Louisa solved the dilemma.

‘A few of us are meeting in the bar at seven for drinks. You’re welcome to join us.’ Louisa cast her eyes around the lift to include Erin and Ruby, although she didn’t verbally acknowledge either.

‘Seven then,’ Robert said, breathing deeply and removing his foot. The doors wheezed shut.

The hotel bedrooms were small but very comfortably furnished in a country style that Erin adored. She curled up carefully on the bed, not wanting to disturb the pristine counterpane, but then couldn’t resist stretching out to rid herself of the week’s stress.

‘I’ll run you a hot bath,’ Robert said. ‘And there’s chilled wine in the fridge.’ It was nearly half past six. If Erin took a long bath, a really long one and then spent a while dressing . . . Robert popped the cork. He just wanted a few minutes alone with Louisa, to ask her advice, then he hoped his family would join them. He wanted to show them off.

‘Are we really going to meet Louisa and her crowd at seven? I was hoping for a quiet meal in the hotel restaurant. We could order room service for Ruby and it looks like there are enough movie channels to keep her entertained.’ Erin sat up on the bed.

‘It’s just drinks. We can make it short and then go for a meal. I doubt you’ll keep Ruby in her room, though.’ Robert handed Erin a glass of wine and ushered her through to the bathroom.

 

For the first ten minutes, he took guesses at which one of the half-dozen or so men surrounding Louisa was Willem, her husband. Robert stood in a classic waiting-at-the-bar pose, holding but not drinking a single malt, idly watching a band set up their equipment in the bar area. He was not close enough to Louisa to give the impression of standing in line for her company, but not so remote as to distance himself from the party.

‘Rob.’ It wasn’t a direct cry for help – Louisa wasn’t the kind of woman who would need assistance in extricating herself from a group, admirers or not.

‘Hey,’ he replied casually, smiling, but made no move towards Louisa. He noticed the slight roll of her eyes as she pulled out of the group that surrounded her. Clearly her husband wasn’t among them. Robert wondered who, if left long enough, would have moved in for the kill.

‘Drowning?’ Robert suggested.

‘I can swim. They’ll scatter when their wives come down.’ She allowed a grin to light up her face and Robert noticed tiny lines at the corner of her eyes, perhaps always there but magnified by her new glasses. She thrust her empty tumbler at Robert’s chest. ‘I’m thirsty,’ she complained. ‘And I hate weddings.’

Robert would gladly have offered his drink to Louisa – anything to help him spend the fifteen minutes he reckoned he had alone with her more productively than waiting at the bar for a drink.

‘But you had one recently,’ he said, and turned to try to catch the barman’s attention.

By the time Robert had paid for her drink, Louisa was sitting at a small, highly polished table, on an equally shiny leather sofa. He lowered himself onto the squeaky chair beside her. Louisa fingered a strand of hair on her cheek.

‘Had what recently?’

‘A wedding,’ Robert said.

‘You too.’ They both laughed. ‘I still hate them.’ She sighed and wound the strand of hair round her finger. ‘They’re a ceremony of possession rather than passion. That’s my view, for what it’s worth.’

‘Problems?’ Robert wanted to reach out and touch her shoulder. He hated the thread of regret in her voice. She nodded in reply. He would have left it there, he thought, had Louisa not pressed on. He recalled each of them on the telephone, breezing about their happy marriages.

‘How about you? Are you wallowing in marital bliss?’ Her eyes met his.

‘Things are great,’ he said, puzzled why the admission should make him feel he had just lied. ‘It’s hard taking on a ready-made family, though. Someone else’s kid.’

‘Is the father around much?’ Louisa’s voice rang clear; soothed his slightly aching head.

‘That’s the thing. No father. Ruby’s a good girl although she’s had her share of problems at school. But don’t get me started on all that.’ Robert grinned, inwardly kicking himself for not continuing. Now was the time to ask her advice, to tell her what Tanya had said. He could count on Louisa’s honesty.

‘It was never meant to be, was it?’ Louisa looked away, as if she instantly regretted the words.

‘No.’ He laughed as he replied. It was a cover for his shock although it took him a moment to realise what she meant. He took a large sip of his drink.

‘You married, me married, you married again and now me. Plain bad timing, huh?’ She reached out to touch Robert’s hand but he withdrew. Upsetting Erin wasn’t on his agenda. Any feelings he once had for Louisa had been firmly packed away.

‘For one who hates weddings, you’ve had your share.’ Robert took more of his whisky.

‘I wouldn’t have hated ours.’ Another bold remark, rendering them both silent.

Robert didn’t want it to be like this and was about to talk about Ruby again but Louisa stiffened. ‘Willem,’ she said brightly and stood, instantly divorcing the moment with Robert. ‘This is my old friend, Rob Knight. He’s a lawyer. I used to do the investigations for his firm.’

Willem, younger than Robert had imagined, stepped forward and offered his hand. ‘Good to meet you,’ he said, obviously without threat or care that his beautiful wife had been having a drink with a man he didn’t know. Willem’s voice was gravelled with accent, pleasantly so, and Robert couldn’t immediately see anything in particular to dislike about the man.