With All My Love (48 page)

‘What’s happening?’ Valerie demanded, sticking her glasses on. She was long-sighted now and it drove her mad.

Briony’s hand shook as two blue lines appeared. She held it out to her mother and godmother, afraid to believe her eyes.

‘Yay!’ Lizzie jumped to her feet, grabbed Valerie and they both threw their arms around Briony.

‘I can’t believe it.’ Briony shook her head. ‘Oh, I wish Finn was here to share this. He’ll be over the moon!

‘Are you going to tell him on the phone?’ Valerie asked as they untangled from each other.

Briony wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t think so. I’d much rather tell him in person but it will be so hard to keep it to myself.’

‘I think you’re right. It’s such a special moment, telling your husband that you’re going to have a baby.’ Lizzie was beaming from ear to ear. ‘I remember when I was pregnant with Killian, I just knew after losing my two other babies that this one was going to be fine, and I had booked us a night in a gorgeous country inn in Norfolk and I told him after dinner when we were walking in the grounds, under a full moon and heavenly stars and it was wonderful. So special.’

‘And I told Finn about Katie in bed on a wet and windy Saturday morning, and we never got out of bed for the rest of the day,’ Briony grinned. They turned to look at Valerie and saw the expression on her face.

‘Oh, Valerie, that was insensitive of me. I’m so sorry.’ Lizzie’s face fell.

‘Don’t be.’ Valerie didn’t want Briony’s special occasion to be spoiled. ‘It was different for me. My circumstances were not ideal but once we got used to the idea we were very happy and when you were born we were thrilled, remember. You were there.’

‘Indeed I was, and out you popped with a little red indignant face on you,’ Lizzie grinned.

‘Why is you all in the toilet?’ Katie opened the door and stood gazing at them. She had been playing The Lotto, one of her favourite games, with her dollies out on the terrace, using her grandmother’s lettuce spinner.

‘What’s that?’ she asked, eagle-eyed when she saw the wand.

‘Aahh . . . ahh . . .’ stammered Briony, glancing helplessly at the others.

‘I was just taking your mom’s temperature but it’s not working very well so I’ll have to get a new one and we’ll just throw this one out.’ Valerie opened the small bin and Briony dropped the wand in.

‘Is you sick, Mommy? I will be the nurse and we will play hospital.’ Katie took charge and led Briony from the bathroom, delighted to have a new patient.

‘Are you OK? I’m sorry about that.’ Lizzie put her arm around Valerie’s shoulder as they stood in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil.

‘It was so hard telling Jeff. I knew it was the last thing he’d want. Finding out I was pregnant wasn’t a joyful moment for me. It was one of the worst moments of my life. And it’s only listening to you and Briony that I realize how awful it was. I never had that lovely, special feeling that you and she had. I envy you both that.’ Valerie looked so sad Lizzie nearly cried.

‘At least you and Briony are getting back on an even keel. And it was good for her to hear that. It might knock some of the judgement out of her. She’s never had to endure the kind of knocks you did. Chin up, dearest. This too will pass. Maybe that damn letter was a blessing in disguise. You can finally let go of the past and Briony can make contact with the Egans and Jeff can rest in peace.’

Valerie nodded. ‘I hope so, Lizzie. It really is time to move on.’

‘Don’t be too harsh on your mum, Briony. It wasn’t easy for her. How different was her experience of being pregnant and ours? And she had a terrible curmudgeon of a father who gave her a very hard time,’ Lizzie urged her godchild as they sat sipping coffee under an awning of a pavement café in the pretty town of La Cala. It was Lizzie’s last day. She was flying home that evening.

‘I know. I never realized quite how difficult it was for her. She never spoke about it. I just wished it had been different. I hate to think of what Tessa and Lorcan went through too. Life certainly hasn’t been easy on them either.’ Briony stirred more sugar into her coffee.

‘You can help ease that pain when you go home by meeting up with them. That’s one good thing to come out of this,’ Lizzie pointed out. ‘And I think Valerie will be glad of it after all this time. It’s been a hard burden to carry; it’s time to let it go. And as well as your reunion with your grandparents you have your new baby to look forward to. Enjoy your life, Briony, this is the best of times for you,’ Lizzie advised.

‘I know that. You’re right, thanks, Lizzie,’ Briony said gratefully as a young Spanish man playing a mandolin came to serenade them.

It was market day and the square was heaving. Valerie had taken Katie to the Oriental Bazaar and after another shopping spree they had gone to the big playground on the beach, while Briony and Lizzie had strolled the length of the market, debating bags, pashminas, scarves and shoes. Lizzie had stocked up on spices, and on Valerie’s instructions had bought strawberries, cherries, peaches and mangoes. Briony had dragged her away from the stall with the colourful hand-made crockery when she had been very tempted to buy two large hand-painted serving platters and six matching side dishes.

‘Think, hand luggage. Think trying to get small case closed. Put it down and walk away. Come with me now and forget what you saw.’ Briony had put the palm of her hand on Lizzie’s back and given her a gentle shove away from the stall. She had still accumulated a fair amount of purchases, which were now lying in a multitude of bags under the table.

Briony’s mobile rang and she saw Valerie’s number flash up on the screen. ‘Hi, Mom,’ she said in a more friendly tone than she’d used in the past few days. ‘Yes, we’re finished, OK, we’ll meet you at the car. See you then.’

‘Time to go,’ she said to Lizzie. ‘You need feeding before we bring you to the airport. It’s a pity it’s such a short stay.’

‘It was a lovely break, and hearing your news was terrific.’ Lizzie signalled for the bill.

‘Just as well you came. I wouldn’t have copped on that I was pregnant, I don’t think, and the poor child could have been awash with alcohol,’ Briony said wryly, gathering up the bags pooled at their feet.

They had a jolly lunch at El Capricho, the beachside restaurant Briony had walked to on the day she had discovered her grandmother’s letter. They had ordered a selection of starters, including Valerie’s favourite, paper-thin slices of aubergine deep-fried and drizzled with honey. Valerie had decided on pepper steak, Briony had seared tuna, and Lizzie a prawn salad. Katie had tucked into spaghetti bolognaise.

She played happily on the beach while the three adults lingered over their coffees, enjoying the peaceful vista in front of them, and the sight of the high Atlas Mountains running along the North African coast, across the sparkling blue Mediterranean that lapped the beach below them.

‘I can’t believe I’ve to go home to wind and rain,’ Lizzie moaned. ‘Briony, make the most of this.’

‘I will,’ her godchild said, smiling at her mother.

Valerie stretched out her hand to her and Briony squeezed it.

Mission accomplished, thought Lizzie with satisfaction, raising her face to the sun. Jeff, you’re playing a blinder! It’s all up to Tessa now.

‘Safe journey home, darlings.’ Valerie hugged Katie and tried hard not to cry. She felt terribly lonely as she said goodbye to Briony and Katie before they joined the queue to pass through security in Malaga airport. She had stayed with them through check-in, wanting to spend every last second with them. Their holiday had flown by, the days slipping lazily past in a blur. It had been a time of renewal and reconciliation for Valerie and Briony. Valerie now felt closer to her daughter than she ever had before, the distress and strain of their fall-out over Tessa’s letter easing as long lazy days on the beach and nights sitting out on the terrace talking, brought them back to each other. Valerie had talked about her life in Rockland’s, her relationship with her father, and her sadness that Carmel had succumbed so swiftly to Alzheimer’s.

Briony had shared her worries about Finn being overwhelmed by work, and having less time to spend with them, and her anxiety that her loss of salary would have a greater impact on the family if the recession worsened, now that she was expecting another baby.

Valerie made the most of every second with Katie, trying not to dwell on the increasing guilt she felt about Lorcan and Tessa.

There was a time when she would have been furious at the thought of Briony making contact with her grandparents, now she felt relief. It was progress of sorts, she supposed.

‘You take care, Mom.’ Briony hugged her tightly. She had tears in her eyes.

‘I will, love. And . . . em . . . let me know how you get on in Rockland’s, won’t you, and put a pink rose on your dad’s grave for me? Remember, it’s half-way up the path and in to the right.’

‘I’ll do that and of course I’ll let you know, Mom. We’ll Skype you. Now please go and we won’t wave or say goodbye. I’ll text as soon as we land.’

‘All right. I’m going now,’ Valerie said, and turned and walked away so they wouldn’t see the tears stream down her face. Buying the villa had a lot of pros going for it, but it was moments like these that tore the heart out of her and made her wonder if she had made the right decision. She reached the door and turned round to have a quick peek, just as she caught Briony doing the same. She smiled in spite of herself and was answered with a grin and a big wave.

Valerie blew her daughter and granddaughter a kiss before walking out into the brilliant sunshine and striding across the concourse to the train station. They had parked in Fuengirola so they could take the train as a treat for Katie. The hum of chatter on the train as it trundled through the stations helped ease the dreadful loneliness she felt. She knew the villa would be deathly quiet when she got home and she dreaded it. Having Briony, Katie and Lizzie to stay had been such an unexpected treat.

She drove home utterly lonely and let herself into the silent villa, expecting at any moment to hear the rush of small feet on the marble floor and her granddaughter’s merry chatter. She dropped her keys on the hall table and wandered into the lounge. A folded pink art page lay propped against the vase of roses on the coffee table. A drawing from Katie, she thought, touched. Her granddaughter loved drawing and painting and had spent many happy hours engaged in artistic endeavours, which were now hanging all over the villa.

Valerie opened it and started to laugh. ‘Oh, Jeff, Lizzie
is
right. You are around, aren’t you?’ she said when she saw her granddaughter’s painting of a big white butterfly surrounded by dozens of childishly drawn kisses and ‘Thank You’ written in wobbly uneven letters.

Valerie held the drawing close to her heart. She knew the thing that would please her beloved Jeff most would be if she made her peace with his mother, but would Tessa want to make her peace with her? Or would that be a step too far?

C
HAPTER
F
ORTY
-T
HREE

‘I think I’d like to go and visit the grave, it’s the longest I’ve left it without making a visit and it bothers me. I’m edgy about it, for some reason. It’s a lovely day, and I’ll get back before dark. Would you mind?’ Tessa lays the mug of tea on the bedside locker and sits on the edge of her husband’s bed. Lorcan’s face is crumpled with sleep. He blinks a few times and hauls himself up into a sitting position. The maroon colour of the new pyjamas she bought him suits him. He’s still a handsome man. Pain and age have not diminished that, she thinks fondly as he reaches out for the tea.

‘There’ll be no rest on you until you go. Bring the doggy, and let him go for a run on the beach,’ he says before taking a gulp of the hot, sweet tea. ‘Lovely. You can’t beat a mug of tay.’ He always says that, every single morning when she brings him the first cup of tea of the day. If he didn’t say it she’d worry about him, Tessa thinks, amused.

‘I’ll take one of those Zanna Cookhouse chicken and ham pies out of the freezer for you,’ she says, taking a sip from her own mug. This is their ritual now: the mug of tea and then showers before sitting down to breakfast. Through most of their marriage when he was fishing Lorcan would be gone to catch the early tides and they rarely had breakfast together. Tessa enjoys sharing the first meal of the day if Lorcan is in good form. Her husband is always at his best in the morning. ‘You can have some peas with it. They only take a minute in the microwave,’ she adds.

‘Grand,’ says Lorcan. ‘There’s a lovely bit of pastry on those pies. They taste home cooked. Of course they’re from Wexford. A fine county.’ This is high praise. Lorcan is fussy, to say the least, about pre-cooked foods from the supermarket. He doesn’t know it but Tessa sometimes buys precooked turnip or carrot and parsnip mash. He likes turnips with his liver and onions but she hates peeling and slicing them. He doesn’t know either that she sometimes buys ready-made pastry. The less time she has to spend cooking and baking the better. She’s had enough of it. A lifetime of it. Men might retire but women never do.

How she would love to have a housekeeper, Tessa daydreams. She’s lucky she can still look after her home, she supposes. She shouldn’t be giving out. A few of her neighbours in Rockland’s are in nursing homes. She hopes neither she nor Lorcan will ever end up in one. There is always the fear of what old age will bring. She thinks suddenly of Carmel Harris, afflicted with Alzheimer’s, recognizing no one. Carmel, who had resisted her tearful pleas to give her Valerie’s address.
‘You were loyal to your son, Tessa, I have to be loyal to my daughter. Please don’t ask me again,’
Carmel had said tetchily after Tessa had knocked on her door for the third time in six months. She wonders did Briony ever get either of the letters that she wrote to her. She’ll never be able to ask Carmel now. She remembers nothing.

‘You’ll be seeing Lisa too, won’t you?’ Lorcan intrudes on her thoughts. He takes another draught of tea, relishing it.

‘Yes, I’ll ring her and let her know I’m coming.’ Tessa stands up and glances at her watch. It’s ten to nine. She could be on the road in an hour if she gets a move on. The morning rush hour and school run will be over. ‘I’ll go and have my shower. The porridge is made.’