Since they were being so open and it was just the two of them, so no danger of upsetting Martha, Naomi risked asking if there was any other reason why Martha was particularly uptight at the moment. She knew that Tom would know straight away what she was really asking.
‘If you’re wondering if she’s pregnant, it’s still what you might call a work in progress.’
‘I see,’ Naomi said. ‘That can’t be easy for either of you.’
‘No,’ he murmured, picking up the tray to carry outside and bringing an end to the conversation.
Adding the platter of flatbreads to the tray and picking up a jug of iced water, she said, ‘Come on, let’s go and rescue Ellis, heaven only knows what the girls are putting him through.’
When they stepped outside and Naomi saw the blatantly hostile expression on Martha’s face her heart sank. Willow on the other hand, while playing with a pretty gold necklace around her neck, was smiling and listening to Ellis saying how much he was enjoying living in Tilsham.
‘Perhaps it’s because you have such excellent neighbours,’ joined in Naomi.
‘Or very easily charmed neighbours,’ muttered Martha.
‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,’ said Naomi with forced brightness, as though treating Martha’s comment as a joke. ‘Well, don’t just sit there, you girls, help to make space on the table so Tom and I can put these things down.’
Throughout the meal, Martha found herself constantly cringing at her mother’s over-the-top jolliness. But then hated herself for thinking so badly of her. Which only added to her annoyance that once again she was being so horribly unpleasant.
In any other situation she would probably like Ellis Ashton. He had, she couldn’t deny, an easy way about him. Not pushy or trying too hard to make a good impression, just pleasantly genial as though he had nothing to prove. Except, as far as she was concerned, he had it all to prove.
Across the table, she observed him asking Willow about her job and what it entailed and found herself thinking that he had the sort of voice that caught one’s attention. There was a warmth to it,a reassuring cadence that was almost hypnotic. Listening to him, she had a sudden mental picture of him being a hostage negotiator calmly talking a gunman into letting his hostages go free while handing over his weapons.
Those who had known Dad were always saying that Martha was so very like him – single-minded, clear-sighted and very determined. They were strengths and attributes she had always been proud of inheriting from her father, but what she didn’t possess, and she was fully aware of this deficiency, was the ability to empathise. Mum had it, and so did Willow. Ellis probably did as well.
Tom had the capacity to be subjective, but mostly he viewed life through the same lens of objectivity as Martha did. He kept his emotions firmly out of the equation. Emotion only coloured one’s perspective, was what they both believed. She had always loved that about him, that he understood the same clear-cut way of dealing with something as she did. It was why they seldom argued. They were both eminently rational. The trouble was she knew that recently she had allowed her emotions to get the better of her. It was, she was forced to accept, a throwback to being a young child when, so the family lore went, she had been a maelstrom of hot-headed emotion if she couldn’t get her way.
Her teenage years had been full of angst and frustration that life seemed to be moving at what she saw as an infuriatingly slow pace. She had been in such a hurry to be an adult, and once she was, the world suddenly changed and she underwent a transformation, realising that her energy could be put to better use by keeping her emotions firmly under control. That was what was meant by being a grown-up, the ability to think logically and objectively. In contrast, Willow had always seemed to want to remain a child and view life accordingly.
Hearing Ellis now replying to something Tom had just asked him, Martha was once again drawn to the mellifluous sound of his voice, accompanied now by a burst of birdsong from the nearby lilac tree. She wondered how much of that persuasive voice of his he’d used to sweet-talk his way into Mum’s life? And now into Willow’s by the looks of things. Perhaps, she thought, stealing a look in Tom’s direction, him too.
But smooth voice or not, how could Mum think it was right to replace Dad so soon? It was an insult to all those years of marriage. How could that be swept away so easily? Did they count for nothing? And why the hell did Mum have to look so gooey-eyed whenever she looked at Ellis? When had she ever looked like that before?
She certainly wasn’t behaving like the woman Martha knew as Mum. This was a stranger sitting with them. An imposter who kept fiddling with her hair and smiling for no real reason. If Dad were here now, he probably wouldn’t even recognise her.
Tearing off another piece of flatbread and dipping it into the dish of hummus, and hearing a lull in the conversation, Martha decided it was time she spoke. ‘So, Ellis,’ she began, ‘tell us how you and Mum first met.’ There were dozens of questions she wanted to ask Ellis, but this was as good a one as any to start with in getting to the bottom of just who he was and exactly where he had sprung from.
‘I told you before how we met,’ Naomi said with a small unnecessary laugh. ‘It was aeons ago when we were students at university.’
‘Yes, buthowdid you meet? And were you just friends? Or,’ she added with heavy emphasis, ‘more than friends?’
Chapter Eighteen
‘All I’m saying is that somebody has to get to the bottom of things,’ said Martha. ‘I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something that just doesn’t add up. It’s not so much what Mum and Ellis say as what theydon’tsay.’
They were on their way back to Tom and Martha’s, where Willow would then catch a train into London. It had felt like a long and tiring day for her and, too weary to respond to her sister, she stared out of the car window in the early evening light at the cow parsley that spilled over the narrow road that was taking them away from Tilsham. As a child, and if Mum was driving – she always drove at a slower speed than Dad – Willow would lean as far as she could from the car window to touch the hedgerow. She had loved the sensation of her hand brushing against the frothy flower heads. Although one day she was stung by a bee. Martha had told her how stupid she’d been and told her off for effectively killing the bee by making it sting her and then causing its death. Her sister, of course, never did anything as thoughtless or careless. That was Willow’s speciality. She slid a hand down to her stomach to where proof of her latest act of folly resided.
It had taken a huge amount of effort throughout the day to act as though she didn’t have a care in the world.She didn’t think she’d fooled her mother entirely though.
‘You look a bit peaky,’ Mum had commented when they’d had a few moments alone in the garden. Willow loved the fact that her mother had used the word peaky. Was she the only person in the known universe still to use that word?
‘Funny you should ask, Mum,’Willow had wanted to say,‘I’m about nine weeks peaky.’
What she actually said was something vague about having not slept well the night before. Which was true. Just as she and Rick were getting ready for bed he had told her that he’d decided not to go with her to Mum’s. He’d explained that he felt uncomfortable at the prospect of being around Martha. ‘I don’t want to antagonise her any more than I have already,’ he’d said. ‘For the sake of your relationship I think it would be better for me to avoid her for the time being.’
Willow had tried to make him change his mind and come with her, but he’d been adamant. She hated knowing that he was so hurt by the way Martha had spoken to him and really she should take her sister to task for it. But the thought of getting into an all-out barney with Martha just didn’t appeal.
According to a personality test Willow had once completed online, she was a Class 1 People-Pleaser. Which meant, so the test informed her, she would go to extreme lengths to avoid conflict. She would also rarely say what she genuinely felt for fear of causing offence.
