The Mill House (3 page)

able to share his delight, but she could already feel the dreaded restlessness stirring, and with so much crowding in on her lately, she found it impossible to relax for long.

'You look worried,' he told her. 'What are you thinking about?'

'As a matter of fact, I was thinking about how little time we actually get to spend together, just the two of us,' she said, 'and what a shame it is we're about to include your mother.'

He glanced over at her. 'If you want us to spend more time together,' he said, 'you know it can always be arranged.'

Feeling a twist of guilt in her heart, she turned to look out of the window.

He allowed a few moments to pass, clearly hoping she might respond, but in the end he let the subject go and said, 'We won't stay long.'

She was still feeling too guilty to reply.

'She'll love the car,' he declared in an upbeat tone, 'and you know what a kick it gives her to see how well things are going for us.'

'For you,' Julia corrected, keeping her eyes on the passing countryside, and trying not to feel annoyed by how much his mother's approval had always meant to him. Then a wave of unease swept through her as her irritation reminded her of how distanced they were becoming. It wasn't what she wanted, nor did she really know why it was happening, but though they were both trying to fight it, there was no denying the cracks that were, even now, threatening the very foundations of their marriage. She was to blame, she accepted that, because she was the one who'd turned from

a loving, passionate and highly sexual woman, to an anxious, almost paranoid and even frigid wife. She just wished she knew what had happened to shut her down like this, for their sex life had always been one of the very best parts of their marriage, madly erotic and so varied and frequent that even they were occasionally dazed by just how good it was. But it had been months and months now since they'd made love with anything like their usual passion, and lately they'd shared no real physical intimacy at all, because she simply couldn't handle the fear that seemed to engulf her when they did. She'd experienced it once before in her life, just after Dan was born, but thanks to Josh's patience and some intensive therapy, it hadn't lasted long. This time it had though, and not even her recent sessions with a therapist or Josh's attempts to understand seemed to be helping her. If anything, the fear was getting worse, and since she'd abandoned the therapy a few weeks ago, and Josh had given up trying to persuade her to make love, she'd become even more afraid of where it might all end.

Emma Thayne, Josh's adoring mother, was as gushingly admiring of the Boxster as Julia dreaded and Josh expected. 'Darling, it's simply the best car I've ever seen,' she exclaimed, bony hands clasped to her meagre bosom as she circled the Porsche, treating it to an inexpert eye and a mother's crowing delight. Julia didn't miss the sneaky little glances she was throwing about the street, in the hope the neighbours were looking. She guessed that any minute they'd take off on a

lap of honour, making sure the entire newly built estate that clung to the edge of a quaint old village, like a wart on the face of a beautiful woman, would be unable to miss the sight of the returning hero and his latest trophy. 'Dad would be so proud if he could see you now,' Emma informed her pride and joy. 'His father would be so proud,' she informed Julia, her dismay and despair.

'We all are,' Julia assured her.

Emma Thayne's protective ear didn't miss the dryness in Julia's tone, and since it implied criticism of her precious and only offspring, she was instantly bristling. Not a pretty sight, but Josh's looks had come from his father, not his mother. 'I'm glad you are, my dear,' she responded tartly. 'A man needs to know he's appreciated, particularly when he works so hard for his family.'

Julia started to respond, then decided not to bother. Occasionally she enjoyed sparring with Emma, but today she didn't have it in her, probably because the late-dawning suspicion that Josh was holding back a vital piece of news had suddenly come over the horizon. It could be what the Porsche was all about, to mask the white elephant that had moved in with them a few weeks ago and they'd resolutely refused to discuss since. If she was right, it probably meant it was something she wouldn't want to hear, and this was his way of softening the blow.

Emma was burbling on about her grandchildren now, and the pleasure she derived from their texts and emails - a modern wizardry they'd greatly enjoyed teaching their grandma, whose mastery of the techniques afforded them much amusement.

Julia was jealous, of course, because her own mother didn't share such a closeness with the children. However, a visit to her own mother could make a sneak peek inside Pandora's box seem the safer option, so she generally kept visits to Gloucestershire to a minimum.

'So, my dear, how are you filling your days now?' Emma enquired, as they left Josh spouting agent advice down the phone to one of his American authors who had carte blanche to call any time of the day or night. 'You must be rattling about in that big house of yours, wondering what on earth to do with yourself, with the children at school all day and Joshua working so hard.'

'Oh, but I barely have a minute to think,' Julia protested, 'what with trying to squeeze my personal trainer in between the manicurist and nutritionist, who have to work around my spiritual guru and the woman with swatches. Then I have to find time for the hairdresser and epicurean facialist, both great artists in their field who really won't be rushed ... Honestly, I don't know how I cope.'

Emma's glassy expression was full of contempt. 'I was merely trying to make polite conversation,' she said coldly. 'But as usual, you mock me.'

'I have a job, Emma,' Julia reminded her. 'I write and edit books, remember? So why would you think I have a problem filling my days?'

Emma pushed open the door to her spotless kitchen and made for the kettle. 'I thought you'd given it up,' she commented tersely.

'Why would I do that when Josh has bought us a house with a dream study just for me?'

'And you never go in it.'

Julia flinched. Clearly Josh had discussed this with his mother, which irked her immensely. 'Not true,' she said, reaching for mugs and wishing she could ask for wine. No point though, Emma only stocked undrinkable sweet sherry. 'My masseuse has plenty of room to set up her portable couch in there, and it's a good space for yoga.'

Emma regarded her with even greater disdain. 'I hope you don't mind me saying,' she said, clearly not caring a hoot if Julia did, 'but looking at you now ... Well, frankly my dear, if you've really got all that beauty back-up you could be wasting your money. Or should I say, Josh's money.'

The insult almost took Julia's breath away. OK, she wasn't looking her best these days, but for her mother-in-law to be so brutal about it, when she clearly knew, thanks to Josh, that Julia was having some problems with depression - or whatever the hell was wrong with her - was just plain cruel. But that was so like Emma, who seized every opportunity to belittle her daughter-in-law, and right now, this minute, Julia wasn't going to take it. 'The trouble with you, Emma, she said scathingly, 'is that you still can't stand the fact that I took your precious son away, can you? As far as you're concerned I've always been the enemy, even while Josh was struggling to get his agency off the ground, and I was picking up all your bills. Yes, I can see that being dependent on your daughter- in-law would have been galling for a woman like you, but it wasn't me who left you in dire straits, Emma, it was your husband. There wasn't even enough to pay for his funeral, and do you know,

to this day, you've never thanked me for sorting it out. Instead you don't even bother to disguise your contempt for me and everything I stand for. In fact ...'

The stricken look on Emma's face brought her to a crashing halt. Christ, what was she saying? just how deeply did she want to hurt this woman? She was getting on in years now, and though her motherly possessiveness and snobbish illusions were irritating, they were her only sins. So to rub her misfortune in her face by reminding her of all the heartache she had suffered when her husband had left her virtually destitute, was unconscionable, unforgivable, and only went to prove just how far down the slippery slope she had descended that she should hit back like this.

'Emma, I'm sorry,' she said hurriedly. 'I didn't mean ... I shouldn't have ...'

'Hey you two, what are you gassing about in here?' Josh demanded cheerily as he joined them. 'Roses are looking good, Mum. Still taking care of them yourself, are you? We can always get a gardener to give you a hand. Just say the word.'

Her son's presence brought a smile back to Emma's papery-white face. 'You're so kind, darling,' she told him shakily, 'but I enjoy pottering about out there. There's not much else for me to do these days, though Julia was just telling me about her beauty routine. I'm thinking about giving it a go. Maybe they'll have more luck with me.'

'You're gorgeous enough as you are,' her dutiful son informed her, completely missing the barb, which Julia took heroically, even gratefully, and let pass.

Tea was drunk - a viscous brown brew that Emma knew Julia detested - in the air-conditioned conservatory that Josh had treated his mother to earlier in the year. It was her special place, she repeatedly told him. In here she could enjoy her plants and read the paper with plenty of light, and admire her garden without getting burnt by the sun or eaten alive by midges and mosquitoes. They - Josh and Emma - talked at length about Shannon and Daniel, both glowing with pride at the children's various sporting and scholarly accomplishments, until finally they landed themselves on the glistening beach of their absolute favourite topic, Joshua.

Emma listened raptly as her son regaled her with tales of his most recent battles with legendary publishing figures, all of which he'd won, of course - she wouldn't be able to handle the failures, so only Julia was made party to them. Next came his most recent trip to New York, followed by an unexpected dash to LA to finalise a movie deal, and crowding up his diary for the weeks to come were dozens of book fairs, literary festivals, keenly contended prizes and the endless round of breakfasts, lunches, dinners, launch parties, cocktails, author tours and glittering award galas that went with the territory of being one of London's hottest literary agents. 'So I might not be able to pop in quite as often as you'd like for a little while, Mum,' he told her.

All this demand and heady prosperity was thanks, in the main, to a chance meeting some seven years ago with a fluffy-haired nymphet from Leeds University by the name of Claudia Barnes,

who'd written an hilarious and brilliantly crafted story about two aliens - Paul from Pluto and Suzie from Saturn - who met whilst attempting to blend in with the community of a North Yorkshire town. Almost immediately it had struck the right chords with Josh, who'd managed to whip up an impressive publisher's auction, both sides of the Atlantic. This had resulted in a staggeringly high figure for a first novel, that had since turned into a series of books, three movies and worldwide publication. And all due to Josh Thayne's eagle eye for a winner (or a blonde) and tenaciously adroit negotiating skills. Now, every author with breath in their body, and publisher with dollars on his mind, wanted to be in Josh's magic sphere, which Julia could hardly blame them for, as it was a wonderful place to be - except when he was chalking up his attributes with his appalling mother.

'The trouble with you,' he told her, as they finally roared out of the estate and down through the highly desirable village of Chalfont St Giles, with its quaint village green, designer shops and olde worlde pub, 'is you have a phobia about mothers.'

Julia rolled her eyes. 'Since I am one, that doesn't really add up,' she responded.

'Yes it does. You can't stand your own, you can't stand mine, and you can't stand yourself either.'

Her head came round.

He glanced at her, shifted down and came to a straining pause at a roundabout.

'Two out of three,' she told him.

He circled to the right, and sped along an empty Amersham Road. 'Is that you claiming to like yourself?' he asked.

'I'm not in the mood for this conversation,' she replied crisply.

Silence prevailed until, without warning, he swerved into a pub car park and turned off the engine. 'Come on, I'll buy you a drink,' he said, starting to get out of the car.

'Josh! For heaven's sake, look at me. It was bad enough having to face your mother like this, I don't want to go into a pub.'

'What's wrong with you, for God's sake?'

'How can you say that? My hair's not washed, I've got no make-up on, these trousers are practically as old as Shannon .. .'

'White wine or vodka tonic?' he cut in.

'Did you hear what I said?'

'I'll bring the drink out,' he urged.

'Good answer. That way you get your drink, and don't have to be seen with me.'

Sighing, he let his head fall back against the seat. 'I don't think I'm going to win this,' he muttered.

'Is it a contest?'

His eyes came round to hers. 'No. It's just me wanting to buy you a drink. Is that too much to handle?'

She pushed open the door. 'White wine,' she said. 'I'll go and sit at the table over there, by the cartwheels.'

As she waited she sent texts to the children, then tried very hard to keep her mind in neutral, because she didn't want to think, she only wanted the wine when it came, and then Josh to tell her what she most longed to hear - that the book she'd submitted six weeks ago was going to be published. It wasn't going to happen though, she