‘Oh, I think it’s high time I did. You see, if I’m brutally honest I tolerated Colin because he was your husband. If I had known him in any other guise, I would have given him short shrift.’ She raised a hand. ‘No, no, hear me out. I need to say this, and I believe very strongly you need to hear it.’
‘It doesn’t sound like I have any choice.’
‘He was overbearing,’ her friend continued as though Naomi hadn’t spoken,‘and horribly patronising, especially towards you. I had to bite my tongue every time I heard him put you down. Oh, he didn’t make it obvious that he was putting you down, but it was there in all sorts of little ways. He’d comment on a new dress you’d bought and say something like “Are you sure that colour suits you?” Or he’d—’
‘Isn’t that exactly what you’d say?’ Naomi interrupted.
‘No. I’d come right out and say the colour didn’t suit you and give you the reason why. And do you remember that evening we were with you a few days after your first wedding anniversary, and the soufflé you’d made didn’t rise? I’ve never forgotten how he tutted and cracked a joke about it being such a let-down and that he’d better give you a bicycle pump for the next time you attempted to make one.’
‘It was a joke,’ Naomi said, surprised that Geraldine should remember such a small detail from so long ago.
Her friend shook her head. ‘You didn’t see his face when you left the room, or hear what he said about you. I swear I could have slapped him. Even Brian commented on it when we drove home afterwards.’
‘What did he say?’
‘That he hoped the rest of marriage to you wouldn’t be such a let-down. I was furious and was about to say something when Brian caught my eye and made a joke about you probably hoping the same thing about Colin.’
Naomi swallowed. ‘All these years on and you remember that evening in such detail?’ The only memory she had was her embarrassment at producing something so inedible.
‘Wouldn’t you, if Brian had said something like that about me?’ ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘Yes, I would.’ Unable to meet her friend’s gaze,Naomi looked at the small bookcase to her right, which she had stripped and painted many times over, depending on how the mood took her. It was currently a deep shade of teal with burnished copper accents. On the middle shelf was a framed photograph of Colin and the girls, his arms around their shoulders as he knelt between them.
Naomi could remember taking the picture, it was when Martha and Willow were ten and seven, and when they were happy to pose for the camera, their open grinning faces full of carefree joy, and not yet burdened with the adolescent need to hide from the camera.
As happy as they looked, Naomi also remembered the ugly row that followed. Colin had insisted that he take the girls out in the boat. Willow hadn’t wanted to go; the poor girl was not a natural sailor, but Colin had brooked no argument. The only way Willow would go was if Naomi went too. They sailed out of the harbour towards West Wittering and not long after, the wind had sprung up, sending white horses racing across the surface of the churning water. Martha had been exhilarated, sensing adventure, and maybe danger too. But Willow had clung to Naomi, petrified that theMarlowwould capsize. It really wasn’t that rough, but to a young child with a vivid imagination who regularly suffered nightmares after watching anything with a hint of tension to it on the television, the thought that a huge wave could smash the boat to matchwood was all too possible, if not inevitable. It didn’t help that she suffered from seasickness and long before they’d reached the safety of Tilsham Harbour, she had thrown up, and not over the side of the boat, as Colin instructed, but in it.
Colin made no attempt to conceal his anger, even saying that Willow should be made to clean up the mess. When Naomi said that wasn’t going to happen,that she was taking Willow straight home to put her in the bath, he had been furious. Somehow, he’d contained his anger and unleashed it later when he arrived back at Anchor House, having cleaned the boat himself. He’d let rip, claiming, amongst many things, that Naomi pandered to Willow.
‘She’ll never learn to grow up if you keep treating her as a baby!’ he’d shouted. ‘It’s your fault she’s such a timid thing, you selfishly refuse to let her go so she can be more adventurous like Martha.’
‘You can’t expect her to be just like Martha, they’re chalk and cheese,’ Naomi had told him.
‘And whose fault is that?’ he’d demanded.
He’d been deaf to any form of reason, unable to accept that his youngest daughter could not live up to his expectations.
His vehement accusations made Naomi wonder if perhaps she was holding Willow back, that subconsciously she wanted to keep her youngest daughter as her forever-baby. The truth was, she had treated Willow differently to Martha. Just as Colin had treated Martha differently to Willow. Parents always liked to think they treated their children identically and with equal fairness, but rarely was that true.
‘Brian and I knew that Colin had a temper,’ said Geraldine, breaking into her thoughts. ‘That he was one of those men who had to work at controlling it. You know, it probably drove him crazy that you didn’t ever lose your temper with him. I bet he would have liked you doing that, if only so he could justify losing control.’
‘You’re making him sound like a monster,’ said Naomi.
‘Your words, not mine,’ said Geraldine with a shrug. Then as nonchalantly as though asking what time it was, she said, ‘Did Colin ever hit you?’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ellis had spent a large part of his working life moving from one posting to another and as a consequence, he had any number of acquaintances, many of whom were scattered around the world, either still working, or now retired like himself. His close friends, though, he could count on the fingers of one hand, which was probably true of a lot of people. It was also true that since Diana’s death he had not stayed in touch with them as well as he should have.
Right now, as he lay in the sand dunes, despite the slight dampness from yesterday’s rain, his eyes closed against the brightness of the sun in the untainted blue sky, he thought how he would value chatting with one of those close friends. But what to say? ‘Hi! You haven’t heard from me in ages, but any chance I can bend your ear about something?’
He’d tried speaking to Lucas, at last nailing him down for a proper chat, but it turned out that Lucas was full of his own news. He’d just been promoted to a more senior level at work and his new role, so he told Ellis, would require him to travel to Europe. ‘London is on the cards in the not too distant future,’ he’d said, ‘so I’ll be able to come and see you and Gran.’ Ellis was pleased for him, really pleased, but there was no getting a word in edgeways.Moreover, he hadn’t wanted to bring the conversation down by offloading his own problems onto Lucas.
Problem, singular, that was.
Naomi.
He saw now why she had been so keen to keep their relationship secret. Hadn’t she warned him that the moment they told anyone, specifically her daughters, everything would change, and not for the better?
But it was nonsense her thinking she had to make a choice, that it was either him, or her family. It was no more than an overreaction to a less than enthusiastic response to a mother having somebody new in her life. All children would be the same, instantly on their guard to protect their mother, or their father for that matter.
