The Party Season (35 page)

C h a p t e r  26

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I
stare at them in surprise. Unfortunately my foot slips slightly on the clutch, the car leaps forward and I damn near run them over. Both of them jump back in shock.

I get out of the car. 'God, sorry' I say as I notice my mother has her hand to her throat and is breathing heavily. 'What on earth are you two doing here?'

They both solemnly and dutifully give me a kiss and a hug.

'What are you doing here?' I repeat.

'Izzy, Aunt Winnie called us,' my mother says. 'We got on the first plane we could.'

I frown. God, Aunt Winnie is taking my love life very seriously indeed. 'I'll be fine,' I say automatically.

'No, that's not it,' says my father. 'Is there somewhere we could go to talk?'

The only place I can think of where we will get any degree of privacy whatsoever is the ruddy walled garden. Meg and I lead the way, treading the well-worn route. Why on earth are they here? Has someone in the family died or something? Thankfully the walled garden is deserted and my parents sit down on the warped old garden bench. I sit on the ground with Meg beside me.

I look at them expectantly. 'Aunt Winnie called you?' I prompt.

They look at each other and then my mother takes a deep breath. 'Yes. She said you and Simon Monkwell were getting quite close.'

'Not any more,' I reply shortly.

My father looks up sharply at this. 'Really?' he says and then looks at my mother.

'What's going on?' I ask, looking from one to the other.

'Well, maybe nothing now,' says my father slowly, staring at my mother as some non-verbal messaging goes on.

'Does this have something to do with Simon?' I ask suddenly. 'Because if it does, I would really appreciate knowing what is going on.'

'Are you two close?'

'We have been. I had been hoping that we might be again,' I eventually confess. 'But I don't think so now.'

My parents stare at each other for what seems like an eternity.

'What is it?' I ask. 'You can't not tell me now.'

'She's old enough,' my mother says to my father. 'She'll understand.'

My father nods suddenly as though his mind is made up and then turns to face me. 'Izzy, this is a very difficult thing for me to have to tell you. I had hoped that you would never need to know as it's something I'm very ashamed of.'

'What is it?' I whisper, feeling quite faint.

'I'm only telling you this because, in view of your relationship with Simon Monkwell, past or present, it would be unfair if you didn't know. We didn't want you to hear it from him.'

He takes a deep breath and continues, 'When we lived at the estate, and you were about eleven years old, I had an affair with Elizabeth Monkwell.' He looks deeply into my eyes and watches the words sink in.

'An affair?' I say eventually.

'Yes.'

'What sort of affair?'

He looks slightly puzzled at this and glances over at my mother. 'Er, the normal sort, Izzy.'

I shake myself slightly and shift position. I stroke Meg's fur and wait for the words to have some effect on me. I'm surprised to find my hand is shaking.

'A long affair?' I ask eventually.

'No,' he says quickly, 'a very short one. Just a few weeks. Izzy, your mother and I were going through a bad patch.' He takes hold of my mother's hand. She smiles at him and nods, as though urging him on. 'Which is absolutely no excuse for what I did. I just want you to know that there aren't any excuses.' This must be very hard for my usually obsessively correct father.

'But what did you do?' I persist.

'Do you remember your mother going away to look after Granny when she had that fall?'

'Vaguely.' I remember eating lots of dinners from the freezer.

'Well, I found it very difficult to manage work and you two children as well. Aunt Winnie was with your mother so she couldn't come and help. I didn't understand why Granny needed the two of them there.'

I nod, wondering when we will be coming to the point of all this.

'So Elizabeth Monkwell came and helped with supper every night and we became close.'

'Right,' I say slowly, feeling some sort of response is expected of me.

'I was up at the main house one day, dropping something off, and Elizabeth and I stood chatting in the drawing room for a few minutes. I don't know how it happened but suddenly we were, er … well, kissing.'

I wince slightly. I fervently hope I'm not about to be taken through the whole affair step by step. I might need another cigarette. I wonder if they bought any duty-free and if it would be churlish to ask.

'Where does Simon come in?' I ask suddenly, alarmed by the thought that he may be connected. My time scales are becoming very confused and I start wondering whether we are in fact half brother and sister.

'Well, one day Simon walked in on us.'

'He walked in?'

'Yes. He saw us.'

'What did he do?'

'Simply stared at us and walked out again. We were both distraught. Elizabeth went after him but I don't think she could ever get him to talk about it.'

'What happened then?'

'I told your mother about it when she got back and we agreed that the best thing for all of us was to leave. I took the next post that came up, which happened to be in Italy, and you went to live with Aunt Winnie during term-time.'

'And that was it? The sum total?'

'Yes. That was it.'

'So did Aunt Winnie know about this?'

'Yes. We told her because she was trying to persuade us to stay in England because she was worried about moving you from your schools.'

'What did Simon think? What did he say?'

My father shakes his head. 'We never knew. As I said, I don't think Elizabeth could ever get him to talk about it. It was just before he went away to boarding school. But we thought that if you were to become close to Simon, you ought to know about it.'

I nod, trying to get my jumbled thoughts into some sort of order. 'It must have been the end of a summer holiday then. I remember Mrs Monkwell helping me with my birthday card for you. But you didn't move to Italy until the following year.'

'That was when the next post came up.'

'But that was the autumn that …'

My mother leans forward. 'What darling?'

I stare at her, willing myself to think more clearly. That was the autumn Simon started being so horrible to me. The bullying began slowly but by Christmas it had reached a full crescendo.

'Simon was quite unpleasant to me for a while. It was during that autumn. It can't be a coincidence,' I say quietly.

We all frown. My mother says, 'But why would he be nasty to you? Was he nasty to Sophie too?'

I shake my head. 'No. Just me.'

My father suddenly looks racked with guilt. 'Why didn't you tell us? We could have stopped it,' he says fiercely.

'Maybe he was just taking it out on Isabel,' my mother says to my father. My father nods shortly but I can see that he is terribly upset by the idea.

'But why would he take it out on me?' I ask.

'Maybe you should ask him,' my mother says gently. 'After all, you're both adults now.'

I put out a hand to touch my father, who is looking absolutely distraught at this turn of events. He looks up at my touch. 'What a mess, Izzy. I'm so sorry. I had absolutely no idea,' he says softly and takes my hand, which is probably the most physical contact my father and I have had in twenty-six years. It feels peculiar that it should result from something like this.

I get up suddenly. I need to find Simon and talk to him.

'Er, Izzy?' says my mother in some concern. 'Are you okay?'

'Hmm?'

'Izzy?
You're not going funny on us, are you?'

'Do you think … ? I mean, did Simon think … ?' My words trail off as I will my befuddled brain to make some sense of everything. 'What time is it?' I ask suddenly.

'Time for a lie down? It's half past twelve,' my father says doubtfully. 'Are you feeling okay?'

'I've got to go!' I say and walk quickly from the garden.

'Izzy, we're sorry we had to break it to you like this,' my mother shouts after me.

I walk backwards for a second. 'I think it might be the best news I've ever heard!' I shout back. 'I'll send Aunt Winnie out!'

Meg and I jog steadily up to the house, into the kitchen and down the long corridor. 'My parents are in the walled garden!' I call out to Aunt Winnie, who looks amazed. I carry on into the hall and spot Victoria. 'Victoria!' I shout. 'Where's Simon?'

'In the drawing room. But I really don't think you should …' Her words are lost on me as I make a lunge for the door and burst in.

A sea of faces stare back at me. I spot Simon as he starts to get up. 'Izzy?' he says doubtfully.

'Simon, can I have a quick word? In private?'

He looks startled by the slightly mad-looking woman in front of him but manages to recover well. Such a professional! 'Er, of course you can. Sam, can you take over? Excuse me, everyone, I'll be back in a moment.'

He leads me from the room and tries the door to the library. Locked. As instructed.

He tries another door. Locked again. As instructed.

In frustration, he drags me past Victoria towards the cupboard under the stairs and shoves me inside, pausing only to turn on the light before following me in and closing the door behind him.

'It's our old den!' I say in surprise.

'Er, yes. Izzy, I hate to drag you to the point but could you possibly tell me what this is all about?' It is a little awkward talking like this. Two adults can't quite stand up in here and our heads are tilted at difficult angles.

'They told me, Simon.'

'Told you what?'

'Everything.'

'Who did? Izzy, my neck is starting to hurt.'

'My parents. They flew over from Hong Kong last night. They told me about your mother and my father.' I try to tone down my elation. 'You didn't want to have to tell me that they were having an affair, did you? Why didn't you tell me?'

'I nearly did but I just couldn't. You might have hated me for telling you.'

We stare at each other for a second. I think he's smiling but it's very difficult to tell at this angle. In one swift movement he bends down and pulls out two old wooden crates from a corner. They might even be the ones we used to sit on. The problem is that I've become a little more fastidious in my old age and I'm worried about spiders, Poppet in particular. I don't get to express my preference for standing because Simon pulls me down to sit on one. Luckily he distracts me by taking my hand.

'In a funny way I hoped you'd never find out,' he says quietly. 'But thank God they told you.'

'Is that why you were so nasty to me?'

'God, Izzy, I don't know what to say. I was only thirteen but I was old enough to know about sex and to realise what was going on when I saw them together.'

'They never actually had a long affair, you know. Just a couple of weeks.'

'I know that now; my mother managed to talk to me about it when I was older. Long after you and Sophie had left the estate though. If she had known what I was doing to you she would have forced the issue earlier.'

'Why did you take it out on me?'

'I think I saw it as being your fault. I mean, at that age it is very hard to blame adults for anything. They are still these God-like creatures who are always right about everything so I looked around for someone else to blame. Then I remembered that you were the reason your family were at the estate in the first place, something about you wanting to ride horses. So I blamed you for the affair, for my unhap-piness. It seemed completely rational to me at the time. In my mind the reason they had the affair was because our friendship pushed them together. I've often thought about trying to find you to apologise but I never could have told you the reason for my behaviour. And during these last few weeks, as we've started to get to know each other again, I've found the subject of our childhood increasingly difficult to bring up. I didn't know how to explain my spite away and I couldn't possibly tell you that your father and my mother had had an affair. Izzy, I am so sorry.'

'Simon, don't worry. I know now, that's all that matters. But I've been judging you so harshly for all this time.'

He shrugs. 'I thought it was better that way, better for you to think badly of me rather than your own father. I felt guilty about treating my oldest friend so terribly but I couldn't see what else to do. It was a sort of punishment in a way.'

It's almost painful to see this proud and honourable man in so much distress. 'If it hadn't happened this way, we might have remained friends without ever taking it a step further,' I try to comfort him.