Wish (10 page)

This was what he loved about her.

This was what he feared.

Cal went to bed eventually, loaded down with hot chocolate and borrowed music to listen to and then it was just Billie and Adam, two broken instruments and a silence that scraped at Adam’s senses.

‘Nightcap?’ he asked.

‘No.’ With a tiredness to her eyes and a rueful smile. ‘Thank you.’

‘Anything?’ He couldn’t read her. ‘Can I get you anything?’

She looked at him as if wondering… something, and then smiled again and shook her head. ‘I’m guessing you’re not going to touch me here in this house, and that’s fine. No sullying of precious memories, right? No inappropriate behaviour anywhere near my son, and I appreciate that too, I really do. But it kind of limits what I can ask for.’

‘What do you want, Billie?’

‘To figure you out. To understand the choices you make and why you do the things you do. And if I'm being absolutely honest with myself and with you, I want to see a picture of your family.’ She smiled faintly. ‘You don’t seem to have any around.’

Oh, there were some. But they were tucked away in desk draws and half empty cupboards. Not dealt with, not properly. Just reminders of pain, and an unwillingness on his part to confront the past and deal with it, and it made him feel small given what he’d just witnessed.

‘If you wait here,’ he offered gruffly. ‘I might dig up a photo.’

And she tilted her head and regarded him solemnly, and he looked away and headed for his bedroom and a bedside table drawer, reaching for a photo in a frame without looking at it. God only knew what he would say once he got back to the kitchen.

In the end he didn’t say anything, just handed Billie the photo and breathed deep.

It was a candid shot that his mother had taken of him, Caroline and Jeremy on one of Caroline’s rare visits to his parents’ house. They were in the garden and Jeremy had been around three years old. He was sitting on a tricycle and Caroline was crouching down beside him, a tender smile on her lips. Jeremy; with his mother’s flawless features and a mop of unruly dark hair that Caroline never quite succeeded in taming, no matter how hard she tried. Adam had been stretched out on the grass beside them, leaning on his elbows, and he was the only one who was staring straight into the camera, shadows in his eyes but a curve to his lips. For his mother’s sake, he remembered. Because she’d said smile.

His wife. His son.

Beautiful, insecure Caroline and innocent Jeremy.

‘She’s beautiful,’ said Billie after a long and loaded silence. ‘Classy. I figured she would be.’

‘Why?’

‘Just did.’ Billie smiled wryly. ‘It’s a beautiful photo. You look happy.’

‘Look closer,’ he told her. ‘My marriage was a mess, Billie. Caroline hated the farm and the time I spent working it. She loved our son but she bound him to her so tightly that I could never get close to him. I barely knew him. Truth is, I failed to provide and I failed to protect and I hate that goddamn photo and the farce it represents.’

Billie rubbed the pad of her thumb gently over the picture as she stared down at it. ‘He’s gorgeous, your Jeremy. He’s got your eyes.’

‘Did you hear me?’

‘I heard you,’ she said softly and looked at him. ‘Thank you for explaining.’

‘Does it help?’ he asked more harshly than he intended. ‘Have you figured me out yet?’

‘A little,’ she said. ‘And just for the record, that story I told earlier about Tommy wanting to be a father at nineteen was just that: a story. The idea of being a father scared Tommy witless. He started drinking more and then he started using. He got lost in the music and the parties and the life. And one night after a gig he stepped out onto the road in front of an oncoming car and whether he saw it coming or not is anyone’s guess. Does that help you any with your interpretation of me and who I am now?’

‘Should it?’

‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘Maybe it might help you understand how much I
don’t
want to trap you. Coerce you into a relationship you’re not ready for. But you keep changing the rules on me, Kincaid, and I don’t know what to do.’

‘Neither do I,’ he said.

‘You’re a good man.’ She put the photo on the bench next to the instruments and came around from the other side of the breakfast bar and kissed him tenderly on the lips, her hands to either side of his face. ‘A passionate and attentive lover.’ She bestowed on him another kiss, and this one lasted longer. ‘You offer your protection and make me and Cal feel safe, and I appreciate that. I do. But someone has to stop this, and it probably should be me. I can’t be your daytime lover anymore, Kincaid. I can’t be anything but a very temporary guest in your home, because I'm starting to hurt, starting to wish for things I just can’t have.’ Another kiss, this one soft and fleeting. ‘I'm sorry. And beyond that I'm grateful, because at least I got to experience a piece of you and it was wonderful, and beautiful, and I will treasure that memory the way it should be treasured. But I have to stop now.’

Adam nodded. He knew she was right. ‘No one gets hurt,’ he muttered.

‘Right.’ She smiled briefly. ‘Goodnight, Kincaid. Thanks for having us to stay.’

This wasn’t hurt. Or if it was, it wouldn’t hurt for long. Adam watched from the kitchen as Billie opened the door to the bedroom across from Cal’s.

Biggest lie he’d ever told.

By the time Billie walked into the pub the following morning she was already exhausted. Not a good start to any day and it didn’t improve with the arrival of the good Sergeant Turner half an hour later.

‘More questions?’ she asked wearily.

‘Just a couple,’ he replied. ‘You don’t look so good.’

‘Thanks,’ she said dryly. ‘But ask your questions anyway.’

‘I can’t help thinking there’s a link between what happened to Maude’s roses and the destruction of the instruments,’ he began. ‘I think there’s a pattern here.’

‘I had some car trouble earlier on as well,’ she said, remembering. ‘Someone let my tyres down. I didn’t think much of it at the time but it could be significant. I don’t know. None of it feels connected.’

Sergeant Turner scribbled in his notebook. ‘When did this happen?’

‘Weeks ago, on a Thursday night. The night of the first darts competition. I could look up the date for you.’

‘If you could,’ he said. ‘I’ve been asking around. Word is you’ve been making some changes around the pub. Maybe someone doesn’t like those changes.’

‘They’ve hardly been earth shattering,’ she said dryly. ‘We run a darts competition, sell a few pies. Keep the place clean.’

‘I noticed that.’ More scribbles in his notebook. ‘Tell me about these music afternoons.’

‘They’re on Tuesdays and Fridays straight after school until five-thirty in the afternoon. Cal and a few friends run through a handful of songs and I supervise. There’s no charge.’

‘And anyone can come along?’

‘No, it’s just for Cal and his friends.’

‘Ever have any trouble with any of the kids?’

‘No.’

‘I’ll need names.’

She gave him names.

He looked up from his notepad and smiled ruefully, his eyes older and a whole lot wiser than the face that framed them. ‘I can’t tell you I have any leads because I don’t,’ he said, closing his notepad and tucking it into his pocket. ‘Whoever’s doing this has a point to make, even if we’re not real clear on what that point is. Could be they’re not finished yet.’

‘Not exactly reassuring, are you?’

‘No. This doesn’t feel like random vandalism, even if it looks like it. So far, the violence has been directed at roses and instruments and, if we count it, your car. Inanimate objects rather than people. That may not last. You need to be careful. You and Maude both.’

Come three that afternoon, Billie was in the kitchen downing two aspirins and an enormous glass of water under Maude’s watchful eye when Roly came through from the bar bringing Celia Copeton with him.

Today, Celia wore a beige skirt and an aubergine twin set with her pearls and her diamonds. Not a hair out of place, thought Billie. Not one. How did she do that? Billie looked down at her own serviceable trousers and collared shirt, which had seemed perfectly fine when she’d put them on this morning but now seemed cheap and shabby in comparison.

‘I was just saying to Rrroland as we came through the bar room that it looks very inviting,’ said Celia, favouring her with a magnanimous smile. ‘You have quite a talent for decorating. Of course, you had some very fine pieces to work with. The mirror hanging over the fireplace is quite valuable. I do hope you plan to move it once winter arrives and the fireplace is in use.’

‘I’ll keep it in mind,’ said Billie, pretty sure that the mirror in question hadn’t moved in years.

Celia turned to Roly next and her face softened as if by magic. Her gaze warmed and her smile grew positively coquettish. ‘You know you’re more than welcome to consult me if you ever need advice in that direction.’

‘Ah.’ Roly looked distinctly uncomfortable, caught as he was between her own dark glare and Celia’s saccharine smile. ‘Thank you, Celia, but I don’t usually bother with that sort of thing. Maybe you and Billie could—

Billie arched an eyebrow, Celia’s smile thinned.

‘No, never mind. Right. Things to do,’ he said hastily. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’

‘Coward,’ muttered Maude at Roly’s retreating back, and then to Celia. ‘What do you want this time, Celia?’ Maude’s sarcasm was thinly veiled and Celia had the grace to blush, however briefly. Maude had Celia Copeton’s measure, decided Billie. And Maude was going nowhere.

‘Well, I heard about the vandalism, of course, and as president of the CWA I wanted to drop by and see if there was anything the association could do. A cake stall, perhaps, or a raffle.’ She looked to Billie. ‘I understand that the damaged instruments belonged to you?’

‘Yes,’ said Billie quietly. ‘And some of the children.’

‘Perhaps the CWA might be able to help with the repairs,’ said Celia with unexpected delicacy.

‘They’re beyond repair.’ Lord she was tired. ‘But thank you anyway. It’s very kind of the CWA to offer. Maybe they’d be interested in raising money towards a new violin for Anna Sutter and a drum for Matty Young. I’m sure they’d appreciate the help.’ Maybe there was a heart hidden beneath the designer twin set after all. She summoned a smile. Celia smiled back.

‘I hear you’ve been spending time with Adam,’ Celia said smoothly. ‘And how is he?’

Billie blushed, hot and hard. Surely Celia couldn’t know about her and Adam.

Could she?

‘Hard to say,’ she said, aiming for offhand. ‘Adam keeps to himself.’

‘I must admit to being surprised when he let you stay on at the cottage when all you can possibly do is remind him of all that he’s lost. Adam and Caroline were so perfect together, you see. They had the kind of love that lasts a lifetime. And then to have her so cruelly taken from him, and Jeremy too. I don’t think a man ever gets over something like that, do you?’

Another direct hit.

‘You know what I mean, Maude,’ said Celia. ‘You’ve pined for your Douglas your whole life.’

‘I’m not dead yet, Celia. And I stopped pining for Douglas forty years ago. I just never met a man to match him for sheer kindness, that’s all, and I refuse to settle for less.’

‘But surely that’s the same as pining?’

‘No,’ said Maude. ‘It’s different. Loneliness, on the other hand, can be a problem. But I don’t have to tell you that.’

The look Celia sent Maude was truly venomous, more than enough to pull Billie from her own misery. No bloodshed Roly had told her once before and Billie had figured it for an exaggeration. Maybe it wasn’t. ‘I’ll let you know if I think of anything else the CWA can do to help,’ she said, hurriedly herding Celia to the door. ‘Thanks for dropping by.’ She saw Celia to the front bar and into Roly’s keeping and ignoring his imploring gaze, she fled.

‘Sorry about that,’ said Maude, when Billie returned. Maude was pounding pastry, pounding hard, her pastry definitely wasn’t going to be light and airy today. ‘Celia always did know exactly how to rub me the wrong way. Hard to believe we were the best of friends when we were girls.’

‘You were?’ Billie blinked. ‘What happened?’

‘People change, grow bitter.’

‘That last dig about Celia being alone,’ said Billie, ‘Does that mean her husband is dead?’

‘No, they divorced years ago. Celia only wishes he was dead. Philip Charles was a wild one. Handsome as Lucifer and twice as dangerous. He married Celia for her money, which she figured out quick enough after the wedding. You could almost feel sorry for her. Almost.’ Maude’s gaze grew heavy with concern. ‘You let her get to you today and what’s worse you let her see it. You’re not very good at hiding your feelings for Adam, are you?’

‘Apparently not.’ Billie sat on Cal’s stool, ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. ‘We stayed at Adam’s place last night, Maude.’

‘Well now, that’s as good a start as any.’

‘He was waiting for us at the cottage when we got home. Waiting to take us back to his place and he was so gentle and careful with us he nearly broke my heart.’

‘I’m hearing a
but
,’ said Maude.

‘He’s got some issues he hasn’t dealt with yet. Issues concerning his late wife and son. Sometimes he pulls back from us so fast it makes my head spin.’

‘Every man has his demons,’ said Maude. ‘Adam more so than most. Don’t let anyone tell you his marriage was made in heaven, because it wasn’t. Celia never let go of that daughter of hers, not even after Caroline married. She never once missed an opportunity to point out Adam’s shortcomings as a husband and a father, and frankly, Caroline took far more notice of her mother than she should have. It was Celia who urged Caroline to drive into town that night, make no mistake about that. Not that she ever wore any of the guilt; she let Adam have it all.’

‘Adam wants us to stay with him until the vandal is caught. For safety’s sake.’ Billie looked at Maude and saw wisdom there, and understanding. ‘I don’t know if I want to. I don’t know if we
should
. What would you do?’