Page 28 of New Beginnings At Pencarrow Bay
‘Hi, Mum,’ he said dully. Like his brother, he hugged her. But his embrace was far from exuberant and he held on to her for much longer than was usual, burying his face in her neck as he used to when he was a child.
‘What on earth’s the matter?’ she asked, once she’d wished him a happy birthday, quite concerned now. Maybe it was the strain of the party, or too many late nights, that was making him looked so hollowed out and forlorn, but this wasn’t his usual presentation. Liam worked for a German PR company, taking home a massive salary for his pains. Peggy had checked out their exclusive website when he’d first got the job and been baffled by bizarre images that seemed to involve a lot of swishing curtains and rows of unidentifiable iron things hanging from bright-white walls, captioned by phrases such as ‘Thought Leadership’ and ‘Bespoke Narratives’. Liam was usually the more confident, more dynamic of the twins. He’d always led the games when they were young, called the shots and spoken up for his shyer brother in company… He normally loved a party.
‘It’s all rubbish, since you ask,’ he said now. ‘Everything’s gone totally pear-shaped. And now I’m officially old, to boot.’ His words were mumbled, and as he looked at herunsteadily, she saw a facsimile of his father’s hooded blue eyes misting with tears. ‘Nisha’s dumped me, Mum.’
Ah, Peggy thought,the famed Nisha.‘Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart.’ She paused. ‘But she’s dumped you before, hasn’t she? Maybe it’s not so serious.’ Their relationship, what little she knew of it, seemed to operate on the revolving-door principle.
Liam flopped down wearily onto a chair that sat against the wall, his head knocking the frame of a black-and-white abstract painting hanging behind him, although he didn’t seem to notice. He closed his eyes, didn’t answer her.
Peggy sighed. She stroked his bent head. ‘You look as if you could do with a break. Have you got any holiday due?’ She knew he’d been to Oslo with Nisha at Easter.
Her son’s eyes opened wide, and he blinked up at her. ‘Holiday?’ He gave a hollow laugh, which she took to mean Hahn Becker was mean with time off.
Peggy wanted desperately to cheer him up, but she didn’t know what to say, and the environment was hardly conducive to a proper chat. ‘Come and stay with us in Pencarrow. Tell them you’re burned out and need a break,’ she found herself offering, on the spur of the moment. She hadn’t thought it through or consulted Ted, but Liam looked in much need of rest and recuperation.
Her son stared at her blankly. Then he raised his eyebrows as if considering what she’d said. ‘Hmm, that’s not such a stupid idea, Mum. If you’re serious… I’d really love that.’
‘So you think you can swing it with work?’ she asked.
Liam snorted. ‘Not a problem. I quit. Fuck ’em.’
‘Wait … You left?’
Liam didn’t reply for a moment. ‘Yeah.’ He broke off,took a breath and avoided Peggy’s eye. ‘Actually, they sort of left me.’ He gave an apologetic grin.
‘You weresacked? Why?’
‘Don’t look so shocked, Mum. I’ll explain another time, but I didn’t do anything wrong. And I’ve got enough in the bank to keep me going for at least a year if I keep my coke bill down.’ He eyed her quizzically, then gave her a cheeky grin. ‘Only kidding, Mum. Never touch the stuff. Dan… well, Dan’s a law unto himself.’ He closed his eyes, waved his empty glass around vaguely. ‘God, I’m knackered.’
A couple of friends spotted Liam and came over, joshing him for being a party pooper. Liam introduced them to Peggy. ‘I’ll be with you in a sec,’ he called, as they swerved back into the party. ‘Can I really come and stay, Mum?’ he asked, almost plaintively, as if he wasn’t clear about her offer. ‘I could surf. Remember, I love surfing.’
There wasn’t any surfing in the bay. You had to trek over to the north coast for decent waves, but Peggy refrained from pointing this out– she didn’t want to put him off. Part of her assumed her son didn’t really mean to come, anyway. ‘Of course you can, sweetheart. I’d adore that.’
Liam stood up and pulled Peggy into another hug. ‘We can hang out, Mum,’ he said, into her hair. ‘We never, ever do, these days. Haven’t for ages. I miss you.’ His tone was soft, almost childlike.
‘It would be lovely,’ she said, her heart melting.
‘Come and stay… Do you know how long for?’ Ted said, alarm in his voice.
It was much later and they were in the taxi on their way back to Annie’s. Max had pulled out all the stops andgiven a clever, witty but actually quite loving address for his sons– which, despite herself, had made Peggy laugh. She and Ted had consumed too much champagne and eaten too few of the endless trail of peculiar canapés on offer, both taking part in half-remembered drunken conversations with a variety of total strangers. All in all it had gone much better than she’d feared. In fact, she would have to say she’d quite enjoyed herself, not least being in touch with the twins again. Max had even shaken Ted’s hand quite graciously and without the usual hauteur at the end of the evening– a first.
‘We didn’t discuss how long… But I hope he does come, even if it’s only for a few days. Although he probably won’t.’ She saw Ted was still eyeing her a little anxiously. ‘You’re okay with that, aren’t you?’
‘Of course,’ Ted said, with a soft smile. ‘Not sure he likes me much, though.’
‘He just doesn’t know you,’ Peggy insisted quietly. This would be a chance to change that. Everyone loved Ted, and her son would too, she was sure.
They fell silent, too drunk and tired to argue, their efforts reserved for the successful opening of Annie’s front door, which always stuck, and managing to make the attic bedroom up the old wooden staircase without Shortbread– Shorty– their hosts’ unhinged Yorkshire terrier, waking up and bringing the house down with his lunatic yapping. They achieved the first without a problem. The second, not so much.
The following morning, Sunday, the four of them were gathered round the table in the conservatory attachedto the kitchen of Annie and Satja’s thirties mock-Tudor semi, situated in a quiet street to the west of Highgate golf course. It was a bright late-May day and the garden on the other side of the open French windows looked fresh and green, spring colour splurging from the creamy-yellow azalea bush and a rusty pink rose just coming into bloom.
Sat had made scrambled eggs– his only culinary skill, he was happy to admit– with lots of sourdough toast and marmalade. Coffee was what Peggy and Ted craved– they both had pounding heads. She knew, coffee snob that he was, Ted would merely be tolerating the cafetière brew Annie pushed towards her friends.
After they’d delivered an amusing account of their evening at the gallery, Annie held up a hand. ‘By the way, before I forget.’ She turned to Peggy. ‘You remember Sonia from Pilates?’
Peggy nodded. The three of them had attended a local class religiously for a while, then gone round the corner for coffee and cake and a laugh afterwards, undoing all the good they’d just bestowed upon their bodies. But Sonia had got breast cancer, stopped coming to Pilates, and the trio had fallen apart. Peggy and Annie had tried to stay in touch, wanting to help her through the treatment, but Sonia hadn’t responded to any of their calls or messages, and in the end they had given up, although they often wondered how she was getting on.
‘Well, I bumped into her on the hill the other day. She’s passed her five-year-survival marker, thank goodness. Said she was sorry she’d cut us off, but she needed to manage with just her family– which I get. She’s doing admin for a dance school in Lambeth now.’ She paused for a sip ofcoffee. ‘Anyway, she asked after you and I told her you’d moved to Pencarrow Bay. And she said, “That’s so weird. Never heard of the place before, but we’ve got a scholarship pupil at the academy who’s from there.”’
