With the sale completed on the Auguste Bouvard landscape which Jakob had correctly predicted would be sold within the week, the clients who’d bought it had insisted on taking Nina for a thank-you drink in the garden of the Graduate Hotel where they were staying. She had wanted to make her excuses and drive home so she could show her face briefly at the welcome drinks party for their new neighbour but Andrew and Christine Kelling, old friends of her parents, were valued customers and so it would have been rude to say no. Jakob had promised to switch on the gallery security system and lock up in her absence. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before anyway.
Now, having said goodbye to the Kellings, and setting off towards Mill Lane, she was glad she had agreed to spend a couple of hours with them. It had been lovely sitting in the hotel garden overlooking the river on such a perfect summer’s evening. The sight and sound of people walking along the towpath on the other side of the water, their voices raised with a cheerful vibrancy, had added to the upbeat feel of the occasion.
Since Hugh’s death she had found it all too easy to turn down invitations that required her to be sociable. Invariably business situations were manageable because she could ensure the conversation avoided anything of a personal nature. Generally, very few friends pushed her to accept their invitations. Someunderstood her reluctance, but others she suspected had no desire to get too close to her grief.
Even after more than two years, many old friends still didn’t know how to treat her, so it was simply better to distance themselves from her. She didn’t blame them. Because let’s face it, half the time she didn’t know how to treat herself. There were days when she woke up feeling that she had come through the worst, that she was ready to be happy again. Maybe even meet somebody and fall in love. But all too soon that glimmer of hope was snatched away and replaced with guilt that she could even consider the possibility of being with anybody other than Hugh.
She had read something about the importance of shaking off the ‘cloak of grief’ which mourners wear following the death of a loved one. It was advised to shake it off before it became too much of a comfort blanket and in turn became too difficult to give up. Lately she had begun to wonder if she had left it too late to do that.
A crowd of noisy youngsters blocked her way as they queued at the punt station, and with a stream of cars now appearing from around the corner of Mill Lane, she waited until it was safe to cross. A sudden burst of raucous voices down on the river made her turn to the left where she saw two punts on course for a collision. Everyone else turned to stare too, most raising their mobile phones hoping to catch something TikTok-worthy. But as the near disaster was averted, it was the occupants of another punt that attracted Nina’s attention.
At first, she doubted what she was seeing, it was so implausible. But she kept her gaze on the man doing the punting. He was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. She then looked at the woman who was seated on the cushioned bench smiling back at him. There was absolutely no mistaking the pleasure on both their faces and Nina found herself unable to tear her gaze away.
With surprising skill, the man manoeuvred the punt into a space and a young lad went to help them out, and all the whileNina tried to reason that there was an innocent explanation for what she was watching. That there was nothing out of the ordinary in the affectionate glances being exchanged between the couple. Or that the hand that went to the small of the woman’s back, and the light kiss that landed on her cheek, was not loaded with familiarity and intimacy.
When the crowd in front of her abruptly dispersed and there was no one to hide behind, Nina hastened away. She didn’t want her father-in-law to spot her. She didn’t want him to know what she had seen. It was none of her business. If this was his way of coping with his grief, then so be it.
Shock carried her feet at speed along Mill Lane and King’s Parade, and then up towards Trinity Street and on to Lower All Saints Lane and the private car park she used. Unlocking her car, and slipping behind the wheel, she told herself she was overreacting.
What had she actually witnessed? Just two people enjoying an evening punt on the river. What was so wrong about that? There were any number of reasons why Keith was alone with a woman Nina didn’t recognise. She could be an old friend. Maybe Hilary had been included in the outing but had declined.
None of this satisfied Nina. She knew with her whole being what she’d just witnessed and so what if Keith was involved with another woman? Who in their right mind would blame him when his wife behaved so coldly towards him?
As she drove out of the car park, Nina’s thoughts returned to that dreadful scene with her in-laws earlier in the week when Hilary had admitted that she had given money to Hugh for IVF treatment, and that effectively she saw it as her right for Nina to produce the grandchild which she regarded as having paid for and bought.
She hadn’t yet decided what appalled her more, Hilary’s sense of ownership, or that Hugh had never told her about the money.It wasn’t even as though they’d been hard up. They’d had the money. They would never have embarked on the treatment if they hadn’t been sure they could afford to do it. So why had Hugh accepted the money from his mother?
Had it been naive of Nina to believe that they didn’t keep secrets from one another? If Hugh had deliberately kept that from her, what else had he hidden from her?
Each time Nina asked herself this question, something in her heart hardened and it wasn’t a good feeling.
She was driving between the stone pillars of Hope Hall, when a text appeared on the screen in her car. It was from Cassie.
Party’s over. Fancy a bite to eat and a catch up?
The onboard car system asked if she’d like to reply, and she pressedYeson the screen and replied verbally withBe with you in a few minutes.
She hadn’t seen Cassie since the evening they’d called on their new neighbour and apart from a number of texts in response to the invitations emailed to them about this evening’s drinks party for Venetia Randall-Jones, they hadn’t spoken. Some weeks were like that.
When Cassie opened the door to her and ushered Nina inside, her first words were: ‘I’m going to be a terrible friend and selfishly offload because if I don’t, I might explode!’
‘That must have been some party,’ Nina said, assuming that’s what Cassie was referring to and that maybe she’d had a run-in with the Enforcers.
‘No, no, it’s nothing to do with that, it’s personal. Ben’s on the running machine and will eat later, so it’s just the two of us. Salad with gravlax and some toasted sourdough bread, is that okay?’
‘More than okay, but didn’t you eat anything at the drinks party?’
‘Didn’t get a look in, not that I fancied much of it.’
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘Do nothing but perch on a stool there, help yourself to some wine and I’ll do the rest.’
Nina was conscious that whatever it was that Cassie wanted to offload, she would only do so when they were both sitting down. She knew her friend well enough to know that when she was ready to talk it would all come hurtling out in one colossal rush. That was a big difference between the two of them; Cassie needed to get whatever was bothering her off her chest, whereas Nina bottled things up. She always had. She also rarely confronted a situation head-on. It was always after somebody had annoyed her that she could think of any number of smart comebacks, her mind usually buzzing with everything she should have said but hadn’t.
It had been the same on Monday evening when her mother-in-law had been so vile. Nina should have told Hilary exactly where she could shove her arrogant assumption that it was her right to be a grandmother because she’d handed over a chunk of money, but she had behaved in her customary very controlled manner by swallowing down her anger and focusing on not escalating the situation. Wasn’t that also what she’d just done when she’d hurried away before Keith had a chance to spot her? It had been her way of avoiding an awkward scene and making them both, but especially Keith, uncomfortable.
Sometimes she thought it was cowardice that made her behave this way, but she had always wanted to put other people’s feelings before her own. She had believed it was a virtue to do so, but now she thought it could not sound more sanctimonious.
