Nadia Knows Best (30 page)

Leonie would be arriving any minute now. Feeling like a dog bracing itself for a visit from the vet—which was ridiculous; this was her own mother, for heaven's sake—Tilly lugged her bag downstairs.

“Darling, you can't use that! The zip's broken,” Miriam exclaimed. “Why don't I pop up to the loft and find you a proper case?”

Miriam was wearing a white shirt, an embroidered vest, and a bias-cut black skirt. Her face and hair were immaculate, as always, and diamonds glittered on her fingers.

“I'm fine.” Having returned her grandmother's tan leather case, along with the bewildering DVD, to the attic, Tilly had crammed all her stuff back into her old sports bag and fastened it with a sturdy belt. “I like this one.”

It was hard to meet Miriam's gaze. She'd found a video that made no sense at all and there was no one she could ask about it. Whoever the man in the video was, Tilly was painfully aware that she had no right to ask prying questions. It was none of her business. She was the cuckoo in the Kinsella nest, a cuckoo about to be gently nudged out.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Enfolding Tilly in her scented embrace, Miriam said, “We'll miss you so much if you decide to go. You do know that, don't you? The house just won't be the same without you.”

That was the thing about Miriam, she was so believable. When she said stuff like this, it sounded as if she really and truly meant it.

“Anyway.” Miriam smoothed her hair and glanced out of the window as a car came crunching up the gravel drive. “Sounds as though Leonie's arrived. Do you want to go and meet her, while I get the drinks organized? It's such a beautiful day I thought we'd sit out in the garden.”

***

“She's here?” In the kitchen, Edward was already arranging glasses on a tray and taking bottles down from the cupboard. Gin, vodka, and Scotch.

Nodding, Miriam impatiently brushed away a tear. “Bloody hell, Edward. How am I going to do this? I can't bear the thought of Tilly going to live with that wretched woman. If I had my way I'd tell Leonie to clear off and never come near us again. But she's Tilly's mother, and if it's what Tilly wants… oh, sod it, I know I mustn't influence her, but it's so hard to try and stay impartial. I just want to
shoot
Leonie.”

“I know, I know.” Edward put his arms round Miriam. “But Tilly has to make up her own mind.”

“She's only thirteen!”

“All the more reason why she probably wants to go. And shooting Leonie really wouldn't help. Tilly might not appreciate the gesture.” Edward had a neuropsychiatrist's sense of humor. He couldn't help it.

Pulling herself together, Miriam took a steadying breath. “Right, I'll take the tray. Can you bring the rest?”

“The rest. You mean the ice cubes, mixers, spirits, wine, and orange juice.” Edward rolled his eyes. “I'll just carry all that, shall I?”

Miriam said carelessly, “Oh, I'm sure you'll manage, darling. You always do.”

***

“The Mummy Returns,” murmured Clare as Leonie came sauntering toward them with her arm slung round Tilly's thin shoulders. “Here we go.”

“Now remember what I said,” Miriam warned. “No slanging matches. That's the last thing Tilly needs.”

“Crikey.” Gasping, Nadia peered into the drink Edward had poured her. “Any tonic in this gin?”

“We're going to need something to line our stomachs,” said Miriam grimly. “Edward, there's dolce latte and ciabatta in the larder. And don't forget the olives.”

Edward hesitated and for a millisecond Nadia thought he was about to tell Miriam to fetch her own bloody olives. But all he said, drily, was, “Just call me Jeeves.”

“May as well bring out the cashews as well,” Miriam called after him.

“Lovely.” Clare grinned. “We'll need something to throw at Leonie.”

Nadia gave her a kick under the table. God, this drink was strong, at this rate she was going to end up legless.

“Darlings, here we all are,” Leonie exclaimed, descending on them and kissing her elder daughters. “Isn't this lovely? I was just telling Tilly how excited Tamsin is. We just can't wait to have her home with us!”

“If she decides she wants to go,” Nadia said evenly, because Tilly was looking like a trapped rabbit.

“Oh nonsense, of course she wants to. Don't you, darling?” Leonie patted Tilly's arm, then dug into her raffia shoulder bag. “Here, I've brought some brochures about Tilly's new school. She'll be in the same class as Tamsin, which is brilliant. No James?” she added, glancing around the table as if realizing for the first time that her ex-husband was missing.

“Dad had a meeting. He'll be here by four.” Nadia checked her watch; it was almost that now.

“Oh well, it's not as if we need him.” Beaming, Leonie shook back her hair. Silver bracelets jangled as she ran her fingers through the overbleached ends, then swiveled round on her chair at the sound of the garden gate clicking open. “Unlike
this
gorgeous boy. Laurie, how heavenly to see you again!” Leaping to her feet, she greeted Laurie with characteristic enthusiasm.

“I just came to tell Dad he's had a call.” As Laurie spoke, Edward returned with a second tray of food. “A Professor Spitz rang from Boston. He'll phone back in an hour.”

Edward nodded. Ernst Spitz was an old colleague of his; they had co-written several papers for medical journals.

“Laurie, you can't leave us!” Pouting girlishly, Leonie tugged him down next to her. “Stay and have a drink. How's that silly daughter of mine treating you? Has she come to her senses yet?”

Nadia gritted her teeth. The fact that her mother adored Laurie and couldn't understand why she hadn't taken him back in a flash irritated her intensely. As one who had spent her life flitting from one man to the next, leaving a trail of unhappiness in her wake, Leonie thought it was a completely normal thing to do.

“Still working on her,” said Laurie with an easy grin. “She's making me wait. It'll happen.”

Nadia felt her shoulders stiffen. Laurie's confidence was annoying too.

“I'm seeing someone else tonight.” Defiantly she took another swig of her drink. “For dinner.
And
I might have torrid sex with him, so there.” She didn't actually say this last bit aloud, but she was jolly well thinking it.

“Jay? Well, good.” Spinning the cap off the vodka, Laurie poured himself a couple of inches and topped it up with orange juice. “I told you you should. Get him out of your system.”

“Who's Jay?” Recalling the name, Leonie said excitedly, “Oh, you mean the one with the dead brother!”

“And more notches on his bedpost than Jack Nicholson,” said Laurie.

“Ah, but that's what makes them so irresistible.” Leonie gave a pleasurable shiver. “You can't beat a good bad boy.”

Nadia wondered what she'd done to deserve this. Right, now she was definitely going to shag Jay tonight.

Aloud she said, “Aren't we supposed to be discussing Tilly?”

Her mother nudged Laurie and whispered, “Bad boys are always more fun. Ooh, that reminds me.” Turning to Clare she went on brightly, “How's that naughty chap of yours? Piers, isn't it?”

Clare stiffened; Leonie was the only one here who didn't know about her brief pregnancy.

“At last.” Miriam sighed with relief as they all heard the front door slam. “Here's James.”

***

It's going to be fun, everything's going to be great, Tilly told herself as she headed back up the garden and into the house. Her mother had said so, she kept stressing how marvelous it would be, especially with someone her own age to play with.

“It's just what Tilly needs,” Leonie had explained to James. “She and Tamsin will make a brilliant team. You should see the two of them together, they're as thick as thieves!”

Which, what with Tamsin's shoplifting skills, was actually quite funny, except it scared Tilly rigid. The last time they'd visited a department store, Tilly hadn't discovered the stolen Stereophonics CD in her bag until they'd arrived home.

Anyway, look on the bright side. Like it or not, she was moving to Brighton, and bits of it might be fun. They could swim in the sea, for a start. She and Tamsin could share clothes, borrow each other's shoes, and talk about teenage girlie stuff together.

Plus, Tilly reminded herself, she'd be living with her mother, who genuinely wanted her there. That was the good thing about Leonie; you didn't have to wonder if she was only offering you a home out of a sense of guilt or obligation, because Leonie never did feel obliged. Her mother was a guilt-free zone.

Right. Ice cubes.

She was busy in the kitchen, clattering ice into a tall glass jug, when the doorbell went. Grabbing a runaway ice cube and lobbing it into the sink, Tilly wiped her wet hands on her denim shorts and went to answer the front door.

A man she didn't know was standing in the porch.

At least she thought she didn't know him, but there was something distantly familiar about his face.

The visitor had to be around Edward's age, and despite the heat of the day was wearing an expensive-looking suit, dark blue shirt, and striped tie. His shoes were highly polished. He wasn't carrying a Bible, but Tilly suspected this was his reason for ringing the bell. Anyone this smartly dressed had to be on a mission from God.

Clutching the jug of ice cubes to her chest she said warily, “Hello?”

“Hello there. I'm here to see Miriam Kinsella. Is she around?”

Not a Mormon then, bent on converting them to the Way of the Lord. Tilly wondered who he was. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was definitely a faint echo of recognition nudging at the back of her brain.

“She is expecting me.” As if sensing her doubt, the man said charmingly, “Miriam and I are old friends.”

Still mystified, but remembering her manners, Tilly said, “She's out in the garden. If you wait here, I'll just go and get her.” Even as she said it, she was wondering if this was the right thing to do. Closing the front door on an old friend of Miriam's would seem awfully rude. On the other hand, what if she invited him to wait in the hall and he turned out to be a con artist, tricking his way in? By the time Miriam got here, he could have made off with the family silver.

As if helping her out of her dilemma, the man said, “Wouldn't it be easier if I just came with you?”

“OK.” Relieved, Tilly decided that it would. There had been a spate of robberies in the area recently. The man didn't look dodgy, but that was the trouble with con artists these days, they never did.

She led the way through the house. At the French windows, the man paused. Next to him, Tilly watched him take in the scene. It looked for all the world like the most relaxed and convivial of gatherings, a happy mix of friends and family enjoying drinks in the garden on a glorious summer afternoon. Laurie said something that caused everyone around the oval table to burst out laughing. Nadia was pouring drinks. Leonie, cradling the bowl of olives on her lap, lobbed one in Laurie's direction.

“There she is,” murmured the visitor, gazing at Miriam. He shook his head in admiration. “Hasn't changed a bit.”

Out of curiosity, Tilly said, “When did you last see her?”

He smiled down at Tilly. “How long since I last saw Miriam? Fifty-two years.”

Blimey. More than half a century. The good old black-and-white days, marveled Tilly.

The next moment, prompted by this thought, she realized where she knew him from.

Oh good Lord.

“Come on,” said the man, gently guiding her forward. “Time to say hello.”

“Who's Tilly found now?” Nadia shielded her eyes and peered across the lawn.

“Dad? Is this another stray professor?” said Laurie.

“Never seen him before in my life,” Edward protested his innocence. “Probably some door-to-door chap selling conservatories.”

Miriam glanced up and felt a chill settle around her ribs. Oh no, it couldn't be, it couldn't possibly be.

But of course it was.

For a moment Miriam wondered if she was about to faint. Her heart felt as if it had been physically wrenched out of her body and plunged into ice-cold water. She'd spent months mentally bracing herself for something like this, but now it was actually happening she knew she was hopelessly unprepared.

“Miriam.” The man standing before her nodded and smiled slightly.

“Charles.” Hideously aware of curious eyes upon her, Miriam held out her hand for him to shake.

Ignoring it, Charles bent and kissed her on each cheek. Then, straightening up, he said easily, “No need to look so terrified. I don't have a gun.”

Now he really had everyone's attention. Miriam pushed back her chair and said, “Maybe we should talk in private.”

“I'd prefer to do it here.” Charles stood his ground. “Out in the open, so to speak. I think your family deserve to know, don't you?”

Curtly, Edward said, “What's this about?”

“I don't want to.” Miriam's face was white, her knuckles clenched.

Charles said calmly, “I'm sure you don't. But I do.”

“You can't just barge in here—”

“I didn't barge in, I was invited by this charming young girl.” He indicated Tilly, who was looking agonized. “Besides, it can't have come as too much of a surprise. I did tell you I'd be paying a visit.” He paused, raising his eyebrows. “In my last letter, remember?”

Miriam remembered the last letter. She had thrown it into the bin without reading it. Ostrich behavior and completely pointless, but it had felt necessary at the time.

Closing her eyes, she shook her head.

“Well,” said Leonie, her expression eager, “I'm intrigued! Are we going to sit here like this all afternoon or is some kind soul going to put us out of our suspense?”

Silence.

With a playful glance in Charles's direction, Leonie wheedled, “Please? Before I burst with curiosity?”

“Oh, do shut up,” sighed Miriam, wishing Leonie would burst.

“My name is Charles Burgess.” The man remained standing. “Miriam and I were married in nineteen fifty.”

James put down his drink. “Mum? Is this true?”

Miriam nodded.

“Well,” said James, “that's not so terrible, is it?” He looked around the table, wondering what all the drama was about. “Plenty of people get divorced.”

“They do,” Charles agreed. “But that's the thing, you see. We never did.”

James frowned. “But… hang on, this doesn't make sense. My parents married in nineteen fifty-two. I've seen the wedding photographs. That's only two years after—”

“Our wedding,” supplied Charles Burgess. “And ours certainly didn't end in divorce. Which I'm afraid makes your mother a bigamist.”

Nobody gasped. A wisp of white thistledown drifted idly over the gathered bottles and glasses. A bee settled on the table, briefly investigated a puddle of spilled wine, then flew off again.

The silence was abruptly broken by a snort of laughter. Rearranging her scarlet skirt, Leonie flapped her hands. “Sorry, sorry, but this is just too funny for words. Miriam, my mother-in-law, a bigamist! She dumped her husband, upped and left and married someone else!”

“Leonie.” James flashed her a warning glance.

“But don't you see?” Leonie was enjoying herself far too much to stop now. “This is just brilliant. I mean, it was fifty years ago, so basically who gives a toss? But… bigamy! And when you think of all those years of grief Miriam's given
me
.”

“Actually, I give a toss,” said Charles Burgess.

“Come on.” Leonie regarded him with scornful amusement. “It happened half a century ago.” As she shrugged, the strap of her frilled top slipped off one shoulder. “It's just not that big a deal.”

“Oh, it gets better,” drawled Charles Burgess.

Gazing down at her hands, Miriam saw that they were shaking. Defiantly, she reached for her drink and gulped it down.

“I married Miriam because I loved her,” Charles continued. “I thought we loved each other. For richer or poorer, until death do us part. When I said those words, I meant them.”

Miriam couldn't look at him; she had meant them too. Meeting Charles Burgess at the age of eighteen had been an all-consuming experience. Theirs had been a passionate whirlwind romance. Everyone else had wanted Charles but she had been the one he'd chosen to marry. The trouble was, the fact that he was no longer single hadn't stopped the other girls chasing him. Particularly Pauline Hammond.

Beautiful, predatory Pauline Hammond, Charles's personal secretary and greatest fan. Seeing them together that Friday afternoon, Miriam had died inside. There had been rumors before then of course, endless hints dropped and warnings given. She had done her best to ignore them, hoping they'd somehow fade away, but deep down she'd known the truth, because sometimes you just
did.
And at that moment something had snapped. This was how it would always be with Charles. A married philanderer didn't change his spots.

All the old feelings of jealousy surged up now, as caustic and wounding as though they'd never been away. It was over fifty years since Miriam had felt them—since then, she had made sure she'd never been in a position to experience anything like that again—but now she could actually taste the metallic bitterness in her mouth. This was what had engulfed her as, almost deranged with grief, she had rushed home that bleak wintry afternoon and resolved to escape. And if she managed to hurt Charles even a tenth as much as he had hurt her, then so much the better.

In less than an hour, Miriam had packed and left. Sod him. She would put the marriage behind her and make a new life for herself elsewhere. The only reason she'd even bothered leaving a brief note for him had been because, without it, the police might suspect him of having murdered her. Not that that would have bothered Miriam in the least, but it meant they would also have made intensive efforts to track her down.

“I came home from work one day and she was gone,” Charles said now, addressing the assembled group. He added slowly, “And so had a fair amount of our money. You shouldn't have done that, Miriam. That was below the belt.”

“Ha!” Leonie whooped with delight. “A bigamist
and
a thief.”

“Why?” Miriam bridled. “Why was it below the belt? We were married, weren't we? It was
our
money, not just yours.”

Except, she had to acknowledge, it had been mainly Charles's money. She had contributed what she could, but he had earned so much more than her. Then again, had that been her fault? And she'd only taken two thousand pounds, it wasn't as if he'd been left penniless.

“You destroyed my life,” Charles continued remorselessly. “I couldn't stop looking for you. I loved you, Miriam, and you did this to me. Everywhere I went, I'd catch a glimpse of a dark-haired girl in the distance and think it was you. But it never was. And every time I thought I was getting over you, something would happen to knock me back. Did you enjoy the video of the wedding, by the way?”

Miriam couldn't speak.

Frowning, James said, “What video?”

“It's up in the loft.” Tilly's voice was small. “Hidden in one of the cases.”

Everyone except Miriam turned to stare at Tilly, who shrank down in her chair and examined her bitten fingernails.

“Remember Gerry Barker, our best man? Brought his cine camera along and filmed the reception,” Charles explained for the benefit of the rest of them. “A week later he was called up for National Service. He came back eighteen months after Miriam had left, brought me the reels of tape. I'm not a crying man,” Charles said evenly, “but when I sat down and watched that cine film, I cried.”

Miriam looked at him. “How touching. Did Pauline Hammond cry too?”

“Miriam.” Charles shook his head. “I never had anything to do with that girl. Either before or after you disappeared. Never.”

Anger rose up in her. “I saw you, that Friday afternoon. I came to your office and saw you with her. I was watching through the glass door, Charles.”

“Really? And what were we doing, having sex on the desk? Excuse me,” Charles apologized to Tilly. “But this is important.”

“You had your arms round her,” Miriam blurted out. “She was clinging to you and you were holding her. You were kissing the top of her head.”

“I know. Because she'd just had a call from the hospital, telling her that her mother was dead. She was distraught,” said Charles Burgess. “Her mother was hit by a car and killed. I took Pauline to the infirmary. When I got home I would have told you. Except I couldn't tell you,” he concluded heavily, “because by then you were gone.”

Miriam couldn't breathe. It hadn't looked like that kind of embrace to her. “Is that true?”

“One hundred percent. I never lied to you then, and I'm not lying now. I spent the next ten years trying to find you,” said Charles. “And all that time you were with some other man, spending my money. You married again within… what was it, eighteen months? Quick work, Miriam. And how long have you lived here, exactly?”

The look on Miriam's face told him all he needed to know. He smiled. “Fifty years, then. Nice house.” Charles nodded approvingly at the huge ivy-clad property. “Very nice. Must be worth… what, three-quarters of a million now? You always did have good taste.” He paused. “So, is this where my money went?”

Miriam knew she should have hired a hit man. “Is that why you're here, to claim your money back? Is that really what this is all about?”

Her brain was racing now; he wasn't getting his hands on this house. One way or another she'd have to pay him off. How much was two thousand pounds in today's money anyway? One hundred thousand? Good grief, would Edward help her out?

“Give me some credit,” said Charles. “I don't care about the money. I may have done at the time, but I'm over that now. Besides,” he added with wry amusement, “my home in Edinburgh is twice the size of this place. I ended up doing pretty well for myself.”

“So what, then?” Miriam regarded him with suspicion.

“You ruined my life, but I never stopped loving you. My wife died two years ago,” Charles announced. “That means we're both free to give it another go. I want you back, Miriam. You loved me once. I can make you love me again.”

Miriam's stomach lurched. Across the table, she saw Laurie's eyes narrowing.

“Your wife died,” she echoed, hazy on the subject of how these things worked. “So you did divorce me?”

Charles shook his head. “After seven years, I had you declared dead.”

Heavens, imagine that, thought Miriam. I'm officially dead.

“Look, you can't just turn up like this and say you want her back,” Laurie exploded. “You can't do that!”

For a split second Miriam was tempted to retort, “Why not? You did.”

But Laurie was on her side. Or, more accurately, his father's.

Turning to Laurie, Charles Burgess said pleasantly, “Of course I can. It's a free country.”

“But Miriam isn't free. She has someone.” Laurie indicated Edward, who didn't react. “This is my father. He and Miriam are… a couple.”

Which wasn't strictly true, thought Miriam with a pang of guilt. Maybe they were a couple emotionally, but not in the physical sense. Laurie knew that.

Charles Burgess nodded and said, “Dr. Welch, that's right, I saw the photograph of you with Miriam in the paper. But the two of you aren't married. If you were,” he added, addressing Edward in a reassuring manner, “I wouldn't have come.”

“But they're together,” Laurie insisted. “They have been for years.”

“All the more surprising, then, that they haven't married.”

“That is none of your business,” Laurie angrily retorted. “Anyway, you're wasting your time. Miriam isn't interested.”

“You don't know that. She might be. All I'm asking for is the chance to find out,” said Charles Burgess. “I'm here in Bristol for the next week, staying at the Swallow Royal. Miriam, I'd like you to join me for dinner this evening. You owe me that much, at least.”

“And what if she says no?” persisted Laurie, earning himself a kick under the table from Nadia.

“Simple, I'll go straight to the police. Miriam will be arrested and charged with bigamy and theft. It'll be humiliating,” Charles promised equably, “and the consequences may be unpleasant. Trust me, I'd make sure the case went to trial. And Miriam could end up in prison.”

Tilly's eyes were like saucers.

Charles Burgess looked at Edward and shrugged. “Sorry. But Miriam's my wife. Was my wife,” he corrected himself. “She was mine first.”

At long last, Edward spoke.

“Feel free,” he said coolly, causing everyone to stare at him in disbelief. Pushing back his chair and smoothing the front of his shirt, he rose to his feet. “You're absolutely right. I've been asking her to marry me for years and she's always said no. Looks like I've been wasting my time.”

“Edward,” Miriam gasped, “that's not true! You can't—”

“On the contrary, I can. Maybe you've been waiting for something like this to happen. I don't know. Now if you'll excuse me.”

“This is crazy,” Laurie burst out when his father had left.

Shaken, Miriam looked at Charles. “I think you'd better go too.”