The Family Affair Page 3

  “Were my grandparents at the house at the time?” Beth asked, conscious that her great-Aunt was too frail for any more questions about Richard. “I never really got to the bottom of that either?”

  “No,” Ada said slowly. “They’d gone to visit you in hospital to give your parents a break, and they’d taken your cousin Charlie, Richards’ son who was five at the time.”

  “God,” Beth exclaimed. “What a horrific thing for them all to have had to face when they got back.”

  “Yes,” Ada nodded. “Your mother couldn’t speak for weeks afterwards and your grandparents’ lives were never really the same again.”

  As Beth listened to her Aunt she closed her eyes, the familiar images of Alistair racing round in her head. Sometimes she could even hear his cries as he bobbed up and down in the water frightened, confused and, yes, definitely alone.

  It was always the same sensation and image, the one where he was struggling unaided in the pool crying out for help, first for his mother, then for his father and then for her.

  She’d never been able to escape from those thoughts, especially when on her own at night time. It would always amaze her how real the feelings and images were, so clear and haunting as if Alistair needed her to know the truth.

  “I have so many regrets and feelings of deep guilt for not being there with him,” Beth said finally. “At least you weren’t at Highlands when it happened.”

  “No, and I thank God for that in many ways,” Ada sighed. “We were at the pyramids on the day he died. But we had to pick up some of the pieces when we got back.”

  “What do you mean?” Beth asked.

  “Your Uncle Richard needed the most help when we returned,” Ada explained. “He was the one who told me about the sequence of events. Your father never really spoke about any of it, not to me anyway.”

  “How the hell did Dad and Uncle Richard ever deal with the fall-out from Alistair dying though?” Beth asked incredulously. “I mean they were brothers.”

  “It took a long time, but in the end Richard had to continue living for the sake of his own family and your father quietly withdrew from the world. It was tragic really,” Ada replied solemnly.

  “Yes,” Beth nodded quietly. “The Earnshaw family, which had always been so strong and successful, started to fracture in the most unexpected of ways after that.”

  “It was certainly a low point in the history of the family,” Ada nodded sadly. “Your father, God rest his soul, didn’t judge people and that’s a great gift, it was tough but he accepted Richard’s version of events and forgave him.”

  “Um,” Beth replied, not wanting to explain that Bertie would probably disagree. “I just don’t think I could have done what my father did. It was extraordinarily forgiving.”

  “In the end it was a tragedy for all of us,” Ada argued. “And we all tried as best we could to put it behind us.”

  Sensing she had tired her great-Aunt out with her questions, Beth felt it only right to stop, change the subject and talk about something lighter.

  For the next hour they spoke about Ada’s aches and pains and the glitzy world of fashion PR, with her Aunt making it clear she was disappointed to hear Beth was still single at the age of thirty-two, despite her glittering fashion career.

  Meanwhile, outside, the azure blue sky slowly darkened and heavy rain started to fall in sheets just like it had all winter. The conversation and the food finished, Ada had simply fallen asleep in the chair, exhausted by her efforts to talk and to remember.

  After finishing a second cup of tea on her own in silence, Beth stared at her Aunt’s face in silence, grateful that she had agreed to see her and for the memories.

  For a split second in the dimming light she thought she could see bruising under her great-Aunt’s left eye. Getting up out of her seat she went over to take a closer look.

  Reassured that it was probably her age and not neglect, Beth had rung the bell for the nurse who had come into the sitting room bringing an envelope with her.

  “Thank you,” Beth said cautiously as the nurse handed it over. “I’m feeling quite fragile at the moment. Do you know what it is?”

  “Just a few photos,” the nurse smiled as they walked together to the front door before adding. “She’ll be very upset if she wakes up to find that you’ve left without it.”

  “My Aunt’s a very special lady,” Beth smiled as the nurse let her out. “Please do say goodbye from me and tell her I will try and come back soon.”

  As Beth got into her car, she opened the envelope. Inside were a couple of pictures of her father with Alistair and one of her Uncle Arthur, her father’s youngest brother, and his wife Louise.

  There was a hand-written note from her Aunt inside which was difficult to decipher. Unsure of what the words meant and, tired from the conversation, Beth tilted her head back onto her headrest and closed her eyes, replaying the conversation with Ada over and over again.

  Tears started to roll down her face as she wrestled to get her keys into the ignition. Was her mother right? Was digging up the past a good idea? Maybe all she was doing was hurting herself and torturing people like Ada, who certainly deserved better.

  Looking into the car mirror before she drove away, Beth decided that, however difficult the task, she had to press on.

  Her next family visit would be the following day. Her Uncle Arthur, her father’s youngest brother, and his wife Louise had surprisingly said they’d be happy to talk to her over lunch.

  CHAPTER 4: BACK AT THE PATISSERIE

  After her visit to Ada Beth had barely sat back down when her mobile rang loudly. Annoyed by the interruption, Beth fished her phone out of her pocket checking the name and number as it flashed up in front of her.

  “Christ,” she hissed. “It’s the poisoned dwarf.” This time she would have to take his call and tell him in the most certain terms she would not be going to Paris the following week. Either that or face being constantly harassed for the next few days.

  “Hi Julian,” Beth said as breezily as she could as she took his call. “I can’t talk for too long. I’m just eating a piece of seriously good chocolate cake.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying life,” Julian snapped. “Things are going pear-shaped here without you. Did you get the flowers?”

  “No, what flowers?” Beth asked in between licks of the hot liquid chocolate which had erupted as soon as she had plunged her fork into the perfectly baked small round molleux – her second piece of the day.

  “The huge great bloody bouquet I sent to you yesterday which cost the earth,” Julian replied, sounding both indignant and suspicious. “Please don’t tell me you didn’t receive it, because I checked with Melissa and she said the flowers definitely got delivered.”

  “Hang on,” Beth said, trying her best not to get irritated by his attempts to buy loyalty. “Before you start to get angry with me, I’m not actually at home at the moment so that’s why I don’t know anything about a bouquet.”

  “Well where the hell are you then?” Julian replied impudently, despite the fact he was a good inch smaller than she was and it was none of his bloody business.

  “I’m not telling you,” Beth snapped. “I don’t want to labour the point but I’m still on bereavement leave.”

  “I’m not admonishing you for that,” Julian continued in the same patronising tone. “But if I can interrupt the cake eating for a few seconds, I need to speak to you quite urgently about Paris.”

  “I don’t want to talk about work at the moment Julian,” Beth interrupted. “Sorry, but it’s just not appropriate timing.”

  “I’m more than aware of that,” Julian said, failing in his attempts to empathise. “And I wouldn’t have bothered you if it wasn’t for the message you left yesterday with Melissa.”

  “Which message?” Beth asked, racking her brains to remember.

  “The one in which you
said you’re not coming back to work next week,” Julian said peevishly. “Which is when your bereavement leave technically comes to an end, and which is when I need you with me in Paris.”

  “She gave you the message correctly then,” Beth replied testily. “I’m not in the right frame of mind to go to Paris.”

  “Well maybe not, but I’ve got no-one to go with but you,” Julian pleaded. “Can you at least have a rethink?”

  “Not really,” Beth replied, surprising herself by her directness. “Staying here in the North feels like the right thing to do for me at the moment. It’s unfortunate but that’s how it has to be.”

  “And what about the company that employs you?” Julian asked clearly incensed by her new found confidence. “Given that this is my business and you’re on my payroll I’d like you to reconsider what you’ve just unilaterally decided.”

  “I already made it quite clear to Melissa what I will and won’t do,” Beth hissed into the phone, trying not to shout. “If she gave you the message correctly, she’ll have also told you I don’t expect you to pay me.”

  “Ok, let’s calm down a bit,” Julian replied, trying to sound grown-up all of a sudden. “Let’s just come to some kind of compromise.”

  “Like what kind of compromise Julian? I have to do what I have to do,” Beth asserted. “Look can we speak some other time please? The mobile reception here isn’t great and I’m losing you.”

  “Well before you just sign off, I want you to be clear about the consequences of what you’re saying,” Julian threatened. “The launch in Paris means everything to me and I …”

  “And I’m acutely aware of all of that,” Beth replied interrupting his flow. “But my father has just died and he meant everything to me. I need some time to reflect and reconnect with his family.”

  “And I understand that,” Julian sighed. “But next week is the biggest I’ve had since I founded this business. And you’re, well you’re the best PR I’ve got.”

  “That’s nice of you to say so,” Beth replied, trying hard not to be flattered. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

  “Right,” Julian interjected. “But the sort of work I’m talking about is career making. And I don’t want you to damage your career.”

  “NO,” Beth replied firmly. “And I don’t intend to damage my career. I’m just asking for a few days holiday given that I had none last year.”

  “Well, I guess if that’s really how you feel,” Julian responded sulkily. “I’ll have to try and take someone else.”

  “In normal circumstances I would be totally excited about the Paris launch,” Beth replied softening. “It would be the centre of my world …”

  As she spoke, Beth thought briefly about what she’d be missing out on. A week in a fabulous five star hotel, unlimited champagne, and exquisitely prepared food in the best restaurants in Paris.

  There would also be the adrenalin rush of getting Julian’s clients into the most prominent slots in the most prestigious fashion magazines in the world, the adulation when she’d pulled it off, together with the offer of free clothes and travel.

  And when she returned home to her Islington flat it would be filled with exquisite flowers for weeks on end from the most stylish florists in London. And she would be able to get a new wardrobe of designer clothes if she wanted to.

  It was high octane stuff. She might even meet the love of her life this time. It had become an increasingly important reason for doing anything these days.

  And yet, despite the undoubtedly fabulous opportunity being presented to her on a plate, she found herself finishing her sentence with. “I won’t be reconsidering, Julian. I just can’t do it this time. It’s a definite no. I have to take a bit of time off to see some relatives. They’re the only bit of Dad I’ve got left.”

  “Well I get that,” Julian replied, sounding like he didn’t get it in the slightest. “But Paris could bring you out of yourself and I could make it worth your while somehow, you know …”

  Beth looked out of the window and she put her hands up to her face, which had started to burn a bright shade of pink again.

  She knew exactly where Julian was going next with his conversation. He was referring to Copenhagen. The business trip they’d gone on together a few months’ previously, when he’d come into her bedroom late at night and one thing had led to another.

  “You do remember Copenhagen, don’t you Beth?” Julian asked, lowering his voice to sound more seductive than he normally sounded, which during daylight in the middle of Kepton just sounded plain wrong.

  “Don’t say anymore,” Beth hissed, putting her head deeper in her hands at the thought of that tryst. “I mean I just don’t want to think about it. This is so not the moment.”

  “Well that’s not what you said in Copenhagen if my memory serves me correctly. We can do the same things we did then,” Julian said, ignoring her pleas to drop it.

  Beth didn’t reply. The answer was no. Everything that had happened that night had been wrong. However intoxicating, exciting and risky, it seemed like another person had done the things she’d done.

  The promise of a massive piece of business had over-excited both of them and this, combined with the expensive and copious amounts of champagne, which had made him seem taller than he was, had given her a false sense of desire and belief that what they had was real.

  “What happened in Copenhagen was a mistake,” Beth whispered eventually into her phone. “In fact it was a big mistake and one which I have no intention of repeating.”

  “Well, let’s just leave it there then shall we,” Julian snarled, sounding insulted by her lack of interest. “I can send you the pictures if you don’t remember what a good time we had.”

  “God Julian, have you absolutely no sense of shame talking to me like this when you know what my personal situation is?” Beth spluttered back just as Olivier tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Sorry for interrupting your call,” Olivier said, sotto voce in a heavy French accent. “But I’ll have to take you to your room now if that’s convenient. I didn’t manage to catch you earlier and I only have a few short minutes before I need to get back to the kitchen.”

  “Sure, of course,” Beth said, standing up beside him and trying to suppress her anger towards Julian. Speaking back into her phone, she whispered. “Look I have to go as Olivier is with me and he is taking me up to his room.”

  “Who the hell is Olivier?” Julian asked incredulously and, then sensing she was about to cut him off, shouted out. “Hey listen, before you put the phone down you need to assure me you’re not in Paris working for the other side. That’s breach of contract.”

  “No, I’m absolutely not in Paris working for the other side,” Beth laughed. “I’m in a French patisserie in Kepton and Olivier is the owner. It’s all perfectly innocent.”

  “Innocent it may be,” Julian snarled. “But there are two things that worry me about what you just said. The first is that Kepton is where I’m originally from. And the second is that I don’t believe you.”

  “Well that’s up to you,” Beth said into the phone. “Sorry but I really must go.”

  CHAPTER 5: HIGHLANDS

  Highlands brought back bitter sweet memories. And yet something more powerful than Beth drove her on to visit it once again.

  The Earnshaw family seat, as the locals had liked to call it, stood as it always had behind a line of large poplar trees set back off the road. It was the size and shape of a small stately home.

  As Beth walked towards the building her heart skipped a beat. Dusk made it more difficult to see what had changed since the fire, which had raged through it some years ago, razing it to the ground and incinerating so many family memories.

  Large hedges had been planted around the boundaries of the property, but springtime meant that skeletal branches enabled her to get a full view of the new house which now stood on the site of the orig
inal Highlands.

  Looking at it for the first time, Beth noticed that it displayed similar stonework and the same attention to detail as its predecessor.

  Walking round to the back, high walls suddenly blocked her view of the beautiful perfumed gardens which she knew nestled silently behind.

  Desperate to get a better look, Beth tried to stand up tall to get a glimpse of the part of the garden where the swimming pool used to be, the only bit of the house she still dreamt of. And there in front of her she finally saw what she had come to see.

  Alistair’s watery grave in the near distance. She gasped as her eyes skimmed the circumference and then the centre.

  Beth wondered if the new owners, who’d turned the old swimming pool into a stylish vegetable and herb garden filled with onion sets, mint, thyme, rosemary and sage, knew its past and the tragic history which remained forever locked inside.

  As her eyes scanned the surrounding area, she noticed that the small meadow of wild flowers that marked the spot of Alistair’s final moments had gone and so too had the steep stone steps and the old-fashioned diving ledge at the water’s edge.

  A modern day pool had been built further up the garden in the same place as the old tennis court. Larger in size, it boasted a wooden changing chalet and a hot tub with a decked area for outside entertaining.

  Old resentments surged through Beth’s veins as she stared straight ahead towards the house that should have been her’s and Alistair’s. If history had not been distorted by tragedy she would not be on the outside looking in. How cruel her life had been.

  Another family now enjoyed Highlands, with the spectacular landscaped gardens and the unique views of the Yorkshire Dales.

  How she wanted to touch the imposing magical white magnolia with its deep white petals a few yards in front of her which had always heralded spring and which in the evenings took the shape of swollen oyster shells.