Harold drew Diane through the house to a tiny sitting-room at the back with two cottage-style armchairs facing the French doors. This room was comfortably worn, the small table exhibiting a careless ring or two, the chairs bleached and shiny on the arms.
She surveyed the garden while he made tea, silently apologising to him for what she was about to do. ‘Lapsang Souchong, Earl Grey or PG Pyramids?’ he proffered through the kitchen hatch.
Her mouth watered suddenly at a smoky reminiscence. She hadn’t had Lapsang Souchong for years. ‘Lapsang, please. Any lemon?’
‘Oh, yes. Lemon.’
She was glad to see he let the tea brew well in the small, elegant teapot. ‘Have you visited Gareth recently?’
‘Yesterday,’ he confirmed, with a smile that displayed his fine dentures.
‘He’s worried, isn’t he?’ She sighed, shaking a regretful head.
Harold’s smile switched off. ‘Is he?’
‘He’s not used to being so isolated. He’s normally in control. You know, finances, car services, household maintenance. He can’t believe that I’m capable of writing a cheque for the gas bill. He’s even worrying about me driving in and out to see him in hospital.’
Harold put down his china cup and stroked his large nose with one clean forefinger. ‘Well. I hadn’t realised. Do you worry about driving?’
Conveniently disregarding her initial wobbles, she gave apshaw!of disdain. ‘Of course not. But you know Gareth. And I can tell he’s worrying about the cottage, because nobody’s been near it since the crash.’
Face clearing, Harold rediscovered his smile. ‘But it’s only twenty-five minutes from here. I can keep an eye on it.’
She tried not to let the triumph welling in her chest reflect on her face. She smiled gratefully, instead. ‘Oh, you are lovely. I suggested it myself. But –’ She paused, fidgeting, as if casting about for the right words. She let her voice drop confidentially. ‘He won’t hear of that, either. He feels so guilty that you had an angina attack because of him and Valerie.’
‘But I’m quite over that.’
‘I know.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘But if I let you trouble yourself he’ll go bananas. So I thought that you could give me directions and I could do it.’
‘If you think that’s best.’ Despite his doubtful expression, Harold obligingly reached for a pad and pen. And Diane smiled.
Directions safely in her pocket, she finished her tea. ‘Better get on, I have things to do before I visit Gareth.’ She felt breathless with jubilation as he followed her down the hall, even if she’d had to fib – all right, lie – to Harold. For that she was sorry but would forgive herself.
He opened the oak front door. ‘I hope he appreciates you; some people might feel he didn’t quite deserve your support, all things considered.’
She stepped out over the high threshold and turned to kiss Harold’s cheek. ‘Actually, I can’t wait to talk to him.’
Chapter Ten
James tried to feel sympathy for his wife.
But so many times he’d witnessed this same sad scene – Tamzin attempting to talk something over with her mother, Valerie waving it away – and it pissed him off. Valerie didn’t dismiss Tamzin through being a bad person and it wasn’t completely because Valerie drank more than was good for her or all those around her. It was because Valerie couldn’t face up to Tamzin’s problems. Better, much, to cram her life with fun and toys.
Valerie was reasonably good at pretending to listen, he acknowledged, observing her features fixed in an expression of interest. But poor Tamz, no matter how much she practised, never quite got the hang of being satisfied with pretence.
‘Dad wants me to start my sessions with Lynsay, the therapist, again.’
Valerie smiled.
‘But you don’t think I need to, do you?’ Tamzin waited. ‘Mum?’
Valerie smiled more widely. ‘Yes, darling.’
‘Yes?’ Tamzin’s mouth turned down.
Valerie hedged. ‘What does your father think?’
Tamzin responded patiently, her expression reflecting hope now a dialogue had creaked into being. ‘That I should.’
