Never Say Goodbye (32 page)

‘Oh no, how could you?’ Bel laughed as she shuddered. ‘The poor thing’s never done anything to you.’

Harry appeared puzzled. ‘You know, I don’t think he has, so how about we buy him and set him free?’

Bel’s eyes widened. ‘You don’t mean that?’ she challenged.

‘Yes I do.’

‘Can we do that?’ she asked the waiter.

He shrugged. ‘I am afraid another customer has already ordered him,’ he replied, in heavily accented English. ‘So can I propose to you the specials of today?’

‘Yes, please do,’ Ozzie encouraged, rubbing his hands together. ‘It’s the only reason I come to Kesterly, to dine at this place.’

As the waiter began running through the various delicacies the chef was offering, Bel kept a cautious eye on Nick, half afraid he might topple off his chair, or erupt into some sort of drunken diatribe that would end up embarrassing them all, as if they weren’t already embarrassed enough. She’d never known him this drunk before, at least not in public, and since it was wholly unlike him to be rude, or unkind, she couldn’t imagine what had triggered it.

‘So how are the children, Nick?’ Harry asked, after they’d ordered.

‘Oh, they’re fine,’ Nick replied, attempting to pick up the wine list.

‘Let me,’ Ozzie insisted, discreetly taking it from him. ‘Red or white?’ he asked Bel.

‘I’m happy with either,’ she replied.

‘Did you notice,’ Nick said to Harry, ‘she objected to you having the lobster, but she’s ordered the sole for herself.’

‘The sole isn’t in the tank,’ Bel reminded him, ‘so I’m presuming it’s already dead.’

‘Ah, I see, so it’s all right if someone else killed it, but not if you’re involved in the murder?’

He was the only one who laughed.

‘I’m sorry, Nick,’ Harry suddenly piped up, ‘I haven’t congratulated you yet on your marriage. I’ve met your new wife, of course. She came to one of our gigs at the White Hart.’

‘Mm, I seem to remember,’ Nick mumbled.

‘How old are your children?’ Ozzie asked him.

‘Seven and five. Do you have kids?’

‘Just the one, a girl, who rules the house and she’s only three.’

‘Girls are like that,’ Nick informed him. ‘Nell always thinks she’s the boss at ours.’

‘Because she is,’ Bel smiled fondly.

He didn’t argue, mainly because his focus seemed to have slipped again.

‘What about your boys?’ Bel said to Harry. ‘Do they rule the roost in your house?’

‘Oh no, I’m definitely the boss,’ he declared manfully.

Ozzie laughed. ‘Yeah right.’

‘At least let me pretend,’ Harry scowled.

‘I have to go to Sydney,’ Nick broke in, ‘because it’s not fair on my wife if I don’t.’ He turned to Harry. ‘You see that, don’t you? You, of all people, will understand why it’s so difficult being around Bel when she looks so much like Talia . . . It’s like Talia’s still with us and Kristina can’t handle it.’

Bel’s cheeks were hot with discomfort as she asked, ‘How did you get here, Nick? Please don’t tell me you drove.’

Appearing confused, he said, ‘I came by taxi.’

‘Then I’m going to order another to take you home.’

‘What?’

‘You’re spoiling the evening,’ she told him bluntly.

‘How? Why?’ he protested. ‘I’m just making conversation.’

‘You’re too drunk to realise what you’re saying.’

‘Have I caused offence?’ he demanded worriedly, looking to Harry and Ozzie. ‘If I have, I apologise, because I certainly didn’t mean to.’

‘It’s me you’re offending,’ Bel told him, ‘and embarrassing.’

Seeming chastened, he lowered his head and dashed a hand through his hair. ‘Maybe I should go home,’ he muttered miserably. He turned to Bel. ‘Will you come with me?’

Astonished, she said, ‘We’ve just ordered our food, and we’re Harry’s and Ozzie’s guests.’

‘Of course. Sorry, I don’t seem to be thinking straight this evening.’

‘Have some water,’ she said, ‘and best not to have any wine when it comes.’

Nick looked at Harry. ‘Would you think me terribly rude if I left? Not in the best shape this evening.’

‘I’m happy for you to do whatever suits you,’ Harry answered tactfully.

Nick tried to focus on Ozzie. ‘It was good to meet you, and I’m sorry about . . .’ He waved a hand rather than speak the words.

‘No problem,’ Ozzie assured him. ‘Thanks for the tickets, by the way.’

‘What tickets? Oh, those. Did you see the old boy? Was he there?’

The way Ozzie glanced at Harry told Bel that he’d been warned not to get on to the subject of her father. ‘Yes, he was,’ he said awkwardly.

‘Did you speak to him?’

‘Not for long.’

Bel was growing tenser by the second.
Please don’t let him start blurting out things no one wants to hear.

‘Did he ask about Bel?’ Nick wanted to know.

‘No, he didn’t,’ Harry replied. ‘As Ozzie said, it was only a brief chat. I don’t think he realised we were the people you’d got tickets for.’

Nick nodded. ‘Have you ever told Harry?’ he asked, turning to Bel.

Bel got to her feet. ‘Come on, I’ll get you that taxi.’ Forcing him up she dragged him to reception, where an obliging hostess summoned a cab from the rank outside.

‘Come with me,’ Nick said, clinging to her hand.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she protested. ‘I can’t.’

‘Why?’

‘You know why,’ and making sure the driver had his address, she hurried back to the table to find the first course had arrived.

‘Is he OK?’ Harry asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

‘I guess he will be, when he sobers up,’ she replied. ‘I’m really sorry. I don’t know what got into him, he’s never normally like that.’

‘Please don’t apologise,’ Ozzie insisted. ‘He’s obviously got some issues, and sometimes the only answer seems to be at the bottom of a bottle. I know, because I used to go there looking myself.’

Bel glanced at him gratefully.

‘Maybe we should start again,’ Harry suggested, reaching for his glass. ‘Here’s to you, Ozzie, congratulations on a new painting; to me, just because I like being toasted, and to you, Bel, for being so bloody marvellous.’

She gave a laugh of surprise. ‘That would be me,’ she agreed, feeling modesty would dampen the mood. ‘Here’s to all of us, and a lovely rest of the evening.’

By the time coffees were served, with a tray of mouth-watering handmade chocolates, they were enjoying each other’s company so much that the disastrous episode with Nick was all but forgotten. Bel was even tempted to suggest a nightcap somewhere, possibly back at her place, but remembering Harry had a wife to go home to who probably wouldn’t be best pleased if her husband and his cousin rolled in after midnight, she simply walked outside with them and thanked them both again before getting into a taxi.

As it pulled away, she was aware of how happily she was smiling. It had been a long time since she’d enjoyed an evening so much, laughing at the cousins’ banter, entering into a lively debate on the ethics of bankers’ bonuses, and an even more spirited discussion on whether Kesterly deserved its new accolade as Britain’s most boring seaside town. They’d touched on so many subjects she couldn’t even remember them all now, but it hardly mattered. It had simply been a wonderfully stimulating few hours that, mercifully, hadn’t been affected at all by the disastrous beginning.

Thinking of Nick, she switched on her phone to see if there were any messages, but he’d neither rung nor texted. Since it was too late to check if he’d got home safely, she decided to ring first thing and give him a piece of her mind, if he was up to hearing it. She might even, she decided, ask if she could have the children for the day; after all, he surely couldn’t be intending to keep them from her until he left for Sydney.

‘Am I on the right road?’ the driver asked, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror.

‘Yes, another hundred yards along on the right,’ she instructed, fishing out her keys. ‘It’s called Stillwater.’

As he put up a thumb, she found herself wondering if by some amazing coincidence he might be Josie Clark’s husband. One glance at the ID badge dangling from the mirror told her that this driver’s name was Gibbons, not Clark, but even if it had been Clark there was no way she could have asked if he knew Josie. Their meeting had been confidential, and as far as she was concerned it would stay that way.

She’d thought about Josie a lot these past two weeks, and had hoped to hear more from her than the short reply she’d received to a text she’d sent only this morning.

Just wondering how you are,
she’d said.

All fine, thank you,
Josie had messaged back. So whether she had got round to telling her husband yet, Bel still had no idea. Maybe she had and didn’t feel the need to talk any more.

Whichever, Bel hoped she was all right and felt able to call if she needed to.

‘You didn’t have to get up,’ Jeff said, as Josie padded into the kitchen in her dressing gown and slippers. ‘It’s not even six o’clock yet.’

‘I know,’ she yawned, ‘but I thought you might want some breakfast before you left. What time’s your pickup?’ He had a good fare this morning, taking a couple of punters all the way to Wincanton.

‘Quarter past,’ he replied, ‘I should be going in a minute. Tea’s made, if you want a cup. I was going to bring one up.’

Touched by the thought, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms to warm them as she reached for a mug. ‘You should’ve set the heating to come on earlier,’ she told him. ‘It’s cold enough in here to freeze the whatsits off monkeys.’

‘Brass,’ he said, sipping his tea.

She glanced at him curiously.

‘Brass monkeys,’ he explained.

She nodded and filled her mug. To her surprise it was jasmine tea. She turned to him with a smile.

Scowling, he said, ‘Well, I thought, now you’ve bought it, we can’t let it go to waste, be bloody stupid that,’ and grabbing a slice of bread as it popped out of the toaster he turned his back to butter it. ‘Do you want a piece?’ he offered.

‘No thanks, I’ll have something later. I’ll cut you some sandwiches though . . .’

‘You don’t have to worry. I’ve already done it. I used up the rest of the cheese.’

Taking a sip of her tea she stood watching him, his dark head bent over his task, his stubby male hands seeming awkward as he handled the small knife. If she hadn’t known better than to fuss him she’d have asked what he was thinking, but he’d never liked that sort of question, and would probably like it even less now. It would be good to know though, just to have an idea of how worried or upset he might be. Probably not very, since she hadn’t made a big deal of her news, and he wasn’t one to get himself worked up about something unless he thought he needed to.

‘What time do you reckon you’ll be back?’ she asked, as he bit into his toast.

Waiting until he’d swallowed, he said, ‘Not sure yet. I’ll call later and let you know. What are you doing today?’

‘You know what I’m doing.’ It was Saturday; she was going to see Ryan.

He said nothing, simply carried on eating as he walked into the living room. ‘If you need picking up from the station later,’ he said, ‘let me know.’

‘I’ll be fine on the bus,’ she assured him. ‘Save you coming out of your way. Don’t want to be wasting petrol, do we?’

Finishing up his toast and tea, he put the mug on the mantelpiece and picked up his keys. ‘Right, I’ll see you when I see you,’ he said. ‘Give our Lily my love. Tell her I’m still wearing the gloves.’

‘She’ll be pleased to hear that,’ she replied, following him to the door. ‘I’ll give Ryan your love too, shall I?’

He paused in putting on his coat, then continued. ‘Do what you want,’ he retorted, and before opening the door, he said, ‘get out of the draught now, or you’ll end up catching cold.’

Doing as she was told, she stepped back into the living room, and went to the window to watch him scraping the ice off the windscreen. The weather was all over the place these days, one minute sunny, the next rain, but it never seemed to get any warmer, and now they were waking up most mornings to these terrible frosts.

She was still at the window, trying to smile past her tears, when he got into the car and started the engine. She wondered if he could sense her watching and was deliberately ignoring her, or maybe he had no idea she was there. It didn’t matter, she still gave him a wave as he started down the road, and she’d send Ryan his love later, because she was sure he wanted her to really, he just couldn’t make himself say it.

‘Auntie Bel, it’s us,’ Oscar and Nell cried into the entryphone.

Surprised and delighted, Bel quickly released the gates and tugged open the front door. She hadn’t been expecting them this morning, hadn’t even received a call saying they were on their way, yet here they were hurtling along the drive, clearly as thrilled to see her as she was to see them.

‘Ooof,’ she gasped as Oscar ran into her full force, and sweeping him up she spun him round and round as Nell cried, ‘Me, me, me.’

‘Yes, you too,’ Bel laughed, setting Oscar down and doing the same for Nell. ‘Come on, let’s go inside, it’s freezing out here.’

As she hurried them up the steps Nick’s BMW came to a halt behind them, but it wasn’t Nick who got out. It was Kristina, looking pale, harassed and as though she hadn’t had much sleep.

‘Go on through,’ Bel said to the children. ‘I was about to make pancakes, so you can sort out what we need.’

As they charged across the hall, Bel turned to Kristina. ‘What’s happening?’ she asked worriedly, closing the door on the bitter wind. ‘Where’s Nick?’

‘At home,’ Kristina replied shakily. ‘I’m sorry about this, I should have rung first, but is it OK to leave them with you?’

‘Of course, it goes without saying, but what’s going on? Did Nick get home all right last night?’

Kristina nodded as she pushed a hand through her hair. ‘Just about, but we need to talk and I thought, with Oscar and Nell around . . .’ She looked at Bel, her eyes seeming as helpless as a child’s.

‘It’s OK,’ Bel assured her, though it clearly wasn’t. ‘You did the right thing bringing them here. Just tell me before you go, how come he got so drunk last night?’