Sowing Secrets (31 page)

Dear Fran,

This should get there about the same time as you do. Hope you got back all right and the Caribbean holiday made up a bit for the shock. I know you will be feeling more reasonable by now, and have realised that things between us just weren’t working out. Hadn’t been for a long, long time.

My solicitor will be sending you some forms to sign. If we are in agreement, the cottage, and the equity in it, will be transferred to your name, and there’s no reason the divorce shouldn’t go through fast. You might want to reconsider Justin’s offer for the cottage – it’s a good one.

Finally, would you please pack up any personal possessions and I will arrange to have them removed to Mother’s house? The metal box containing my stamp collection needs to be parcelled up and sent out to me by some kind of insured special delivery – they will advise you of the best way at the post office.

Mal

As if that wasn’t enough, Brideshead Revisited had also penned a friendly little note.

Dear Fran,

I thought I’d just like to tell you how sorry I am that it didn’t work out between you and Mal, but from what he’s told me you must have realised that things weren’t going well for a year or two. He’s a great guy, and I know how much you relied on his support, but a man appreciates an independent woman when he gets to a certain age. This time round I’m sure it will work – we have so many interests in common now.

No hard feelings?

Alison Morgan

That bit about his ‘supporting’ me makes me sound like a clinging vine, and reminded me of how he’d more or less implied on Cayman that I’d only married him for what I could get.

I was a few minutes late arriving at Teapots, since I’d had someone out to look at my poor dead-as-a-dodo little car, though it turned out it simply needed a wire to the battery replacing. I could see he thought the new wire was the most valuable bit of the whole vehicle.

Nia had already filled Carrie in on what had been happening – including some of the embarrassing bits I might have left out myself, like what Gabe said to me next morning when he was really angry.

‘You do seem to have a habit of using him for comfort when you’re dumped,’ Nia said.

‘You can’t call
twice
a habit,’ I protested. ‘And the first time I slept with him I thought I still loved Tom, and this time … ’ I examined my inner workings and made a discovery. ‘This time I woke up confused because I
didn’t
love Mal! And although Gabe had been really nice to me I supposed he didn’t want to reject me after Mal just had.’

‘You and Gabe have got something going,’ Nia said. ‘Maybe you don’t realise it, but when your eyes meet you stare at each other for ages. It’s quite embarrassing – and he looks at you all the time. He was even flirting with you on the phone to Cayman; I heard him.’

‘He didn’t say a thing, except about roses and the hens,’ I pointed out, going pink. ‘You’re imagining it.’

‘No, I’m not, and it’s not what he
said
, it was the way he said it.’

‘Well, it doesn’t matter now, because his opinion of me is clearly that I will sleep with anyone – he jumped to conclusions about Tom, didn’t he?’

‘Fran, he’s jealous! I think you are going to have to apologise to him, because he’s been going around like a bear with a sore head since you got back. In fact, Carrie and I think it might just be confession time, don’t you?’

‘Confession time? You mean
everything
? Rosie?’

‘Yes. Tell him you’re sorry you walked out on him the other night, and you wished you’d stayed till morning this time, and that Tom was trying to get into your house, not being let out – and explain about Rosie perhaps being his child.’

‘Nia, I couldn’t possibly!’ I said, appalled.

‘But just think how good it would be not to have secrets any more!’ Carrie suggested. ‘Nothing to hide. And he’s such a nice man – don’t you think you owe it to him?’

‘Well, there is that, I suppose,’ I admitted. ‘Maybe you’re both right – I’ll think about it. After all, it doesn’t matter if Mal finds out about it now, does it? There’s just Rosie to consider, but I’m not sure how she would take it … She didn’t really seem to like him.’

‘She’s never liked any man who showed interest in you,’ observed Nia.

I sighed. ‘All I ever wanted was a quiet life in the country, doing my designs and cartoons, loving Mal, looking after Rosie, my hens and my roses – where did I go wrong?’

‘Nia’s told me about the cottage, and that you might have to sell it,’ Carrie said. ‘It’s such a shame.’

‘I will have to sell it – there’s no way I can afford to keep it, especially since no maintenance is likely to be forthcoming. I don’t earn enough to cover it.’

‘If you do, then I’ve got a suggestion which is better than nothing – we’ve
both
got suggestions,’ Carrie said.

‘Yes, I’m living up at Plas Gwyn now,’ Nia said, slightly self-consciously, ‘so you could rent my little cottage from me.’

‘And I’m tired of being cooped up over the café, and since our gardens back on to each other I thought I could buy your house and put a door through the wall into mine.’

‘But, Carrie, it’s worth quite a bit and—’

‘Oh, I’ve got money,’ she said nonchalantly. ‘And just think, you could still use the studio and see to your roses, and even, if you needed a place to live, have my flat over the shop!’

I didn’t know what to say, but my eyes were swimming.

‘Have a madeleine,’ urged Carrie, pushing a plate of comfort food towards me. ‘Or a chocolate brownie.’

‘No, thanks, not just now – I’m not hungry,’ I said, and they both stared at me as though I’d turned green and grown another head. ‘It’s just … hard to take in! A complete rescue package – if you’re both sure?’

‘Of course we’re sure – unless you get a
better
offer,’ Carrie said.

‘Don’t be silly,’ I said severely. ‘If you mean Gabe, that was a one-off.’

‘Mal’s friend Justin?’

‘In his dreams!’

‘What were you saying about trying to commit suicide by gluttony last night?’ Nia demanded suddenly.

I shrugged. ‘When Mal dropped his bombshell and went off, that Dorothy Parker poem about suicide popped into my head – you know, the one that lists all the different methods, and then concludes that you might as well live?’

‘Yes, because all the alternatives have a nasty catch to them. But you weren’t seriously thinking of suicide, were you, Fran?’

‘No, not really. Not in the short term, anyway.’

‘The short term? What on earth do you mean?’ asked Carrie.

‘Well, since the only things I really wanted to eat and drink out there were rum cake, Mudslide and sugary soft drinks, I thought eating myself to death might be quite fun.’

‘But you must have eaten something beside cake!’ demanded Nia.

‘Not really, but it’s OK, I’ve given up any idea of eating myself to death on purpose. I’ll probably just do that naturally when my appetite comes back.’

‘Have you eaten anything this morning?’ she asked.

‘Come on, Nia! Do I look starving? There’s enough fat on me to keep me going for six months.’

‘No there isn’t – you’ve actually lost weight. And that’s not the point, anyway – you still need to eat properly. I think you’re run down.’

‘How can I be run down when I’m the size of a medium minke whale?’

‘It’s not size, it’s content. Vitamins and minerals and stuff.’

‘All right, I’ll buy some multivitamins next time I’m in town.’

‘And I’ll do a special rite, to speed up the inner healing process and give you strength,’ Nia said, a faraway look in her eyes.

‘What sort of rite?’ I asked uneasily. ‘This
is
just Druidry you’re up to, isn’t it?’

‘Of course, I told you! What did you think I was doing? Black magic?’

‘No … it’s just that I happened to see you once, burying something up at the stones,’ I confessed.

She looked slightly embarrassed. ‘An elderly member of my circle’s last wish was to be laid to rest up there, so I did.’

‘You buried a
Druid
in the stone circle?’

‘Just ashes,’ she said defensively. ‘Why not? But don’t worry, all my sacrifices are inanimate.’

‘You know, I think I’ve just thought of a sacrifice on the altar of revenge,’ I said, a brainwave illuminating the inside of my head like a flashbulb. ‘Mal’s going to make it. He’s asked me to send him his stamp collection, and that’s
exactly
what I’m going to do.’

Nia and Carrie wanted me to go right up to Plas Gwyn and talk to Gabe then and there, but I needed to think about it a bit first.

Besides, I had some urgent business to do this morning: drive to the nearest post office and buy loads of stamps, a stick of glue and glossy postcards of St Ceridwen’s Holy Well.

After that, all I had to do was crack the six-figure number on the safe box Mal kept his stamp collection in, which was easy when you knew him as well as I did. Using the simplest of number codes for the word ‘Cayman’ I hit pay dirt first time and his treasures lay in my hands.

I spent the next couple of hours very pleasantly, addressing the postcards out to Mal in the Caribbean, and gluing his collection of stamps on to each one in pretty patterns. Of course, I also added the correct postage, too, so they should get to him OK. They were a very colourful lot, and practically filled the little village postbox.

I felt like a wicked child sticking fireworks in a dustbin.

Next morning I set out for Plas Gwyn, assuming I would find Gabe up there somewhere, and on impulse turned off the drive and headed for the maze.

I’d found him sitting there once before – and I struck lucky again. The heart of the labyrinth seems to be his favourite place for brooding.

‘Gabe?’ I said tentatively, but since he didn’t look up I slowly started to walk around the pathway like a reluctant sacrificial victim.

It seemed twice as big now the outer edges had been re-cut, but of course you can’t get lost in a turf maze, even if you do have to go to and fro a bit.

‘Gabriel!’ I said more sharply, finally reaching the middle, and he looked up sombrely. ‘Gabe, can we talk?’

‘
I
certainly can, but you seem to specialise more in silent departure at dead of night,’ he said rather bitterly.

‘I know, and I want to apologise for my behaviour the other night.’

‘Which bit?’

‘You
know
which bit!’

‘No, I don’t. Are you apologising for sleeping with me, or leaving in the middle of the night?’

‘Neither,’ I snapped. ‘I don’t know why I even bother trying to explain – and that nasty crack you made about throwing my lovers out in the middle of the night was
totally
unjustified!’

‘I saw him, don’t forget, Fran.’

‘You saw me telling him to go away – the doorstep was as far as he got! You just automatically drew the wrong conclusions.’

‘Maybe, but your own daughter told me you were getting back together,’ he pointed out.

‘Yes, and I told you that was just wishful thinking on her part – not that it’s any of your business anyway!’ I was beginning to wish I’d never embarked on all this.

‘You can’t deny that the other night was my business,’ he said darkly, ‘even if I
was
just the consolation prize.’

‘Well, I’m sorry if it rankles, but I wasn’t in a fit state to think straight when I woke up, that’s why I left. It was totally different from last time!’

‘Was it? Last time you went back to your boyfriend, Tom, didn’t you? Is that what you intend doing this time too?’

‘No.’ I sat down on the grass next to him. ‘Gabriel, I
didn’t
go back to Tom last time.’

‘Nia said—’

‘Nia said he’d asked me to go back to him, but she didn’t say I
had
. I didn’t. I came here to St Ceridwen’s alone, instead.’

He turned and looked at me, but I didn’t meet his eyes. ‘I probably should have told you this right at the start, when you first recognised me … but knowing about the paternity claims and the gossip mags, I just couldn’t. It’s … there’s something I
really
have to tell you.’

‘It’s Rosie, isn’t it? She’s mine,’ he interrupted, to my complete astonishment.

I stared at him, dumbfounded, the wind taken right out of my sails. ‘She
might
be,’ I admitted. ‘Or she might be Tom’s, I don’t know. I always suspected she was yours, but short of a DNA test there’s no way to be certain.’

‘Oh, I was certain almost the moment I set eyes on her,’ he said positively.

‘How on earth could you be? She doesn’t look like you in the least!’

‘No, but she
does
look like photos of my mother as a girl.’

‘She—she does? And you didn’t say anything?’ I demanded indignantly.

‘
I
thought that
you
thought she was Tom’s, and I didn’t see any sense in rocking the boat – especially if you might get back with him.’

‘There’s no way I’d ever think of getting back with Tom,’ I said hotly. ‘And even Rosie’s gone off the idea now she knows he’s still got a wife!’

‘He has?’ He sat up and looked at me intently, his eyes sincere. ‘Fran, when I saw Rosie and realised she was mine, I felt really bad that you’d never been able to tell me about her. And I wished I’d known.
Another
daughter I’ve missed seeing grow up,’ he added bitterly.

I was feeling rather anticlimactic. ‘To think that you knew all this time, when I’ve been going frantic worrying that you would find out. Or Mal – or the
press
.’

‘There’s no reason why anyone should find out unless we tell them, Fran.’

‘Are you absolutely
sure
she’s yours?’

‘Positive. I’ve had the photos out several times, and she’s my mother’s image as a girl. I think she’s got a bit of my nose too, don’t you?’ He turned his impressive profile towards me.

‘No, of course she hasn’t,’ I said scathingly. ‘She’s got a neat little nose!’

‘Are you saying mine’s huge?’

‘Yours is fine for a man,’ I allowed graciously.

‘Thanks. Your ma thinks Rosie’s got a look of me.’

‘
Ma
does?’ I exclaimed. ‘Good grief, does
Ma
know? Who else knows?’

‘No one. Your ma guessed. She said she could see there was something between us from the first time she saw us together,’ he added pensively, ‘and then Rosie has mannerisms that are just like mine.’

‘Well, of all the secretive old … ! She could have told me that you knew!’

‘I asked her not to.
Are
you going to tell Rosie? How do you think she’ll take it?’

‘I’ll have to tell her now, but I don’t think she’ll believe me. Prepare yourself to be interrogated. And … you’ll be nice to her, won’t you, Gabe?’ I asked painfully.

‘Of course I will, Fran, what do you take me for?’ he said, looking hurt. ‘I’m delighted to have another daughter, and I hope she’ll let me get to know her.’

‘And what about Stella? Are you going to tell her that there’s yet another skeleton in her dad’s cupboard?’

‘I haven’t thought quite that far ahead yet,’ he admitted. ‘She might come and visit me soon. The term ends over there any minute, so she will probably fly back to be with her grandparents. If she does, I’ll break it to her then.’

‘Rosie’s half-sister!’ I marvelled. ‘And she might not mind too much, Gabe; after all, it was such a long time ago, before she was born.’

‘I hope not. I don’t want to find one daughter only to lose another. And, Fran,’ he added gently, ‘I’m sorry I was angry with you about the other night.’

‘That’s all right, I’m glad we’ve cleared the air,’ I said, rising to my feet, and he rose with me, pulling me into his arms. The maze seemed to whirl around us dizzyingly – must have been delayed jet lag.

‘Blush Noisette,’ he said softly.

‘La Belle Sultane,’ I said. My knees seemed to be folding.

‘Maybe you should think twice before running from my bed in the middle of the night next time?’ he suggested in my ear.

‘What makes you think there will
be
a next time?’ I said indignantly.

‘I feel it in my bones.’

‘Then you feel it wrong.’ I pulled away and said politely, ‘Excuse me.’

‘I’m not blocking your way,’ he pointed out, looking amused.

‘Yes, you are, I have to walk back on the path.’

‘You mean you won’t cross the lines?’ He stood aside with an incredulous grin, and watched me tread my intricate course round the maze until I emerged by the yews.

‘Come up and see what we’ve been doing on Thursday when the crew have all gone,’ he called.

‘I might,’ I said, walking away.

But first of all I have to think out how on earth I am to tell Rosie about Gabe, when I don’t think she even likes him!

And I wonder what Gabe’s daughter is like?

I thought I’d go and talk things over with Nia, and was just heading for her workshop when I came across a tableau in the courtyard that stopped me in my tracks. For a minute I thought the cameras had returned and were using the place as the backdrop to a soap.

A medium-sized, wiry man, whom I recognised as Nia’s ex-husband, Paul, was just saying aggrievedly, ‘But I’m asking you to come back to me, Nia! Emma’s left me – she went off to France with some man she knew before. It was all a mistake and I should never have let you go.’

‘Well, you did,’ Nia said shortly, ‘and now I’m gone for good.’

Rhodri, who had been standing by looking rather anxious, now put his arm round her and said, ‘That’s right, she belongs here, now.’

‘And
you
would be … ?’ enquired Paul nastily.

‘Rhodri Gwyn-Whatmire – and you’re on my property.’

Paul turned on Nia. ‘I see how it is. You’ve decided on the soft option – finding a man with money this time?’

‘Oh, don’t be silly. I’ve worked my butt off with hard physical labour the last few months, and Rhodri hasn’t got any money, just a pile of stones and a lot of ambition.’

‘So you won’t come back to me, then?’ Paul said almost incredulously, as though he had only to walk up and ask, and all the infidelity, the betrayal and the divorce would be wiped out with a great, smiling ‘of course!’.

‘No, she won’t,’ Rhodri said pugnaciously. ‘She’s with me now.’

I remembered that
Flash Gordon
was still Rhodri’s favourite film, and felt the dialogue was taking a turn for the worse.

‘It doesn’t matter whether I’m with anyone else or not, I still wouldn’t come back to you, Paul,’ Nia said. ‘You’ve wasted your time coming.’

‘If that’s the way it is, then,’ he said, looking from one to the other of them uncertainly.

Rhodri tightened his grip on his prize and Paul muttered something, turned on his heel and stalked off.

‘I feel I should applaud,’ I said, and they finally looked round and noticed me. ‘The dialogue was a bit melodramatic, but it was well acted.’

‘The cheek of the man, thinking he could just walk up here and claim me back like a mislaid belonging,’ Nia fumed. ‘As though I were just sitting here waiting for him. Well, I didn’t! I got a life, instead.’

‘Yes, with me,’ Rhodri agreed enthusiastically. ‘Let’s get married!’

‘God, no,’ she said, ‘I couldn’t face being Nia Gwyn-Whatmire!’

‘You could keep your own name,’ I suggested.

‘Whose side are you on?’

‘Both.’

‘Talking of weddings, where’s Gabe?’ Nia retaliated. ‘Have you talked to him yet?’

‘Why, is something going on between you and Gabe, Fran?’ Rhodri asked intelligently.

Nia gave him a look. ‘Of course there is, you big idiot – they’re meant for each other!’

‘Hold on, Nia! I’ve just discovered my marriage is on the rocks, so you might let me come up for breath first before pairing me off again!’

‘They
do
both like roses,’ Rhodri admitted.

‘Among other things,’ she agreed. ‘Didn’t you hear or see
anything
when they were together up here? They flirt all the time under the pretence of talking about roses – it’s embarrassing.’

‘No, of course he didn’t, because there wasn’t anything to notice,’ I said hastily.

‘
And
he did it on the phone when you called from Cayman!’

‘He was just trying to cheer me up by talking about gardening.’

‘Admit it, Fran, you started falling out of love with Mal nearly a year ago when he began turning weird, and fell back in love with Gabe the minute he reappeared on the scene.’

‘
Back
?’ Rhodri asked, puzzled.

‘I was never in love with him in the first place – it was nothing, a one-night stand.’

‘
What?
’ Rhodri said, his light-blue eyes startled.

Nia patted his arm. ‘Don’t worry about it, Rhodri, I’ll explain later. Fran, are you going to come to the pub tonight? I think you ought to get out, not sit at home brooding about everything.’

‘So long as I don’t have to drink any alcohol,’ I said. ‘I think my entire system is poisoned.’

I heard Rhodri’s voice raised on a questioning note as I left, but whether it was about me or about the possibility of nuptial bliss is anyone’s guess.

At home, a removal van was packing up the contents of the Wevills’ house, but of the poison-penners there was no sign, and hadn’t been since my return.

Gone, but not forgotten, for they had left a legacy of false rumour that would echo down through the years and never quite die. As we all know, there is no smoke without fire.