Page 11 of New Beginnings At Pencarrow Bay
Peggy did know. But for some reason she felt a little left out. It wasn’t that she minded him stopping off for a drink. Not at all. It was more that he hadn’t thought to text her, include her in what was obviously a fun session in the pub. One in which Rory had wanted to include Quentin.
‘When I was at Ada’s earlier,’ she said, to change the subject, ‘Lindy was clearly having a bit of a set-to with Felix.’
Ted, helping himself to a couple of sausages, did not reply at first. Not looking at her, he muttered, ‘I’m sure it was nothing.’
‘Well, it didn’t seem nothing.’ She passed the pan with the chickpeas to Ted.
‘It’s their business,’ he said, rather curtly, as if he wanted to shut down the conversation.
Peggy frowned, eyeing him. Ted loved the odd gossip. It wasn’t like him not to enjoy a bit of speculation aboutwhat might be going on in the McDonald household. Then a thought came to her. ‘Has Lindy said something?’
Ted’s head shot up. ‘No. No, of course not.’ His tone was bordering on irritable.
Peggy, taken aback, couldn’t quite read the look she glimpsed flashing across his eyes.
‘Ted… ?’ The question died on her lips. Glancing at him, though, she saw he looked tired and bedraggled, the exercise and alcohol finally taking their toll. She didn’t want to start an argument… potentially about nothing.
They sat in silence for a while as they ate. Ted’s head was bent to his food, shovelling the sausages into his mouth as if his life depended on it.
‘So you’re going to swim at the weekend?’ she asked finally.
Ted, swallowing his mouthful, nodded. ‘I promised Lindy. It’s for the Lifeboats.’
‘Good for you. Should be fun,’ she said brightly, trying to ease the tension that had crept– for no reason she could fathom– into the room. ‘You realize it’s your birthday on Saturday?’
Now he looked up and really met her eye. ‘Oh, my God, so it is.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘We haven’t seen Rose recently. Should we ask her over?’ He didn’t sound very enthused by the idea, Peggy noted, although his daughter traditionally joined them for Ted’s birthday.
Rose was in her early thirties. She was extremely clever, a scientist, although acknowledged since school days to be on the autism spectrum.Not that you would immediately identify that about her, Peggy thought. Yes, she could be quite awkward socially– she didn’t really do nuance, alwaysspeaking directly and honestly, sometimes disconcertingly so– and was clearly quite anxious, but also charming in a shy, reserved way. Peggy had really liked her on the few occasions they’d been together.
Currently working at a marine biology centre in Plymouth, Rose wasn’t geographically too far away, but they seldom saw her. Peggy and Ted had often talked about seeing more of his daughter– the same conversation they had about her twin sons, Liam and Dan.
Her boys– they were men now, but she still called them ‘boys’– had made only one flying visit to the new house. It was the previous November, when the place was still in a certain amount of chaos. There had been a howling gale outside for most of the two days, but it had been lovely to sit snug with them in front of the log fire, their long legs stretched towards the warmth– even if the walls were still wet from the replastering and there were no curtains, no rugs on the parquet. It was a long way to come for a weekend– both always seemed so hectic at work– and Peggy had really appreciated the effort. Not least because it had been a bit tricky when Ted first pitched up in her life.
Peggy was convinced that Max, their father, had put a jealous spanner in the works on realizing she was in love. Dan worked for his father; Liam was in PR but also networked in Max’s world. Plus Max had scooped them up after university and bought them studio flats near his successful Mayfair gallery. So the lives of the three were intertwined– although the boys had always made time to return to their north London home, hang out with Peggy and wolf down a big bowl of Mum’s spaghetti Bolognese. Liam had told her one day that, although he appreciated hisfather’s amazing generosity with the flat, he really missed home and his mum and wished he still lived there.
Peggy’s marriage had been complicated, and probably not easy for the twins, growing up. Max’s charming and charismatic personality was not exactly wired for domesticity. He was a man who worked all hours, loved a drink and hated missing out on anything social. He was seldom home during the boys’ childhood, off doing goodness knows what– Peggy quite soon gave up asking. She had been devastated the first time she realized Max was being unfaithful.
As the years went on, though, she found herself tolerating it– or, at least, she lurched from affair to affair with hurt resignation, always convincing herself this one would be the last.It’s just who I am, sweetheart, Max would insist, tears in his eyes at her upset when the latest liaison was uncovered.It doesn’t mean a thing. You know I completely adore you.But her determination to leave him was always knocked on the head when she thought of the pain and upheaval she would cause her boys. She knew she wouldneverbe responsible for disrupting their childhood in the way her parents had done. So she clung on. Later she wondered at herself, was ashamed at what some would call weakness– surely no modern empowered woman would put up with behaviour like Max’s for so long. But it was for her boys. And, at the time, it seemed all she could do.
With the twins safely launched in their respective universities, though– Liam at Liverpool, Dan at Leeds– she’d finally called a halt to the marriage. Max was peculiarly stunned, devastated even. Peggy had been taken aback at how much he seemed to care– and how little he seemedto take responsibility. But however much he pleaded and promised he would be good, she knew he wasn’t capable of it. So she’d stood firm.
The boys, when she’d told them at the end of their first term, were also knocked for six, which she’d expected, of course. But they were uncomprehending and angry with her too. They thought she was overreacting, being selfish. They begged her to reconsider, feeling sorry for their dad. Obviously Peggy had done too good a job at hiding the dark side of their marriage– the boys had had no idea of the endless affairs, because she had not wanted to turn them against their father. And although Max had virtually left the day-to-day parenting to Peggy, as the boys grew he’d drawn them into his glamorous world, introducing them to art, the gallery scene and the famous crowd who inhabited it. Despite his faults, Max loved his blond, handsome sons, was proud of them. And they, in turn, loved finally having their father’s attention, being a proper part of his life– in contrast to the scant pickings of their childhood.
So Peggy had had to work hard, over the years, to mend the bridges the divorce had burned. The boys loved her, so they gradually accepted what she’d done. But on meeting Ted they had not fallen on his neck with glad cries. They’d been polite, of course– she’d brought them up to be well-mannered– but cool. When, for instance, she mentioned they were going to live in Cornwall, Dan’s eyes had narrowed and he’d nodded knowingly, as if this travesty were only to be expected and Ted was dragging her off– no doubt against her will– to the Underworld.
Now Peggy said, ‘Yes, let’s. Ring Rose and ask her forsupper on Saturday. I’ll do something special. She can stay the night if she doesn’t want to drive back to Plymouth.’ Although she knew Rose wasn’t particularly keen on staying, she wasn’t sure why, but assumed it was the disruption to the normal routine she relied upon.
Ted nodded. ‘I’ll message her.’ He was silent for a moment, then smiled, the strange mood from earlier seeming to dissipate as he met her eye. ‘If I’m still in one piece by then… Quentin told me about the, er, fishy presence spotted hereabouts.’
Peggy began to laugh.
‘Were you just going to send me off into the wild, icy waters of the English Channel without so much as a whisper of warning?’
The two became quickly breathless with laughter. ‘It’s the basking kind, not the munching variety,’ Peggy spluttered.
‘So you say. But apparently you weren’t too keen on a dip. And the crab man’s video is certainly not reassuring.’
Peggy just grinned. ‘You’ll be fine,’ she said, silently railing against her perfidious new friend– who’d clearly dobbed her in when they were drinking together.
