Page 18 of New Beginnings At Pencarrow Bay
The following day they’d made the jam together. They bickered back and forth about the best recipe, laughing at their subsequently chaotic efforts, their fingers stained, teeth clogged with pips, blackberry juice dripped all over the new kitchen. But both were childishly pleased to see the row of sparkling, odd-sized glass jars, filled to the brim with luscious dark purple jam, their cellophane lids covered coyly with red and white gingham circles secured with rubber bands. The jam didn’t set quite enough– although they boiled it for what seemed ages– but it tasted delicious and there was one large jar left in the cupboard that would do nicely for a couple of dozen baby tarts.
Peggy loved making pastry. The skill of rubbing in the cold butter, not handling it too much, the smooth expanse of dough rolled out on the marble work surface, the perfect rounds she could slot neatly into the baking trays. A blob of jam in each– not too much or they would overflow and stick the tart to the patty tin– and she was done.Ted will be pleased, she told herself, pushing away the conversation that awaited them that evening.
Tarts finished and cooling on racks, Peggy went to the supermarket on the Truro roundabout and wandered along the aisle, picking things at random. At the checkout she realized she’d chosen a motley range of goods– laundry freshener, cotton pads, wine vinegar and instant noodles– none of which she needed right now.
Later still– the day seemed endless– she prepared asalad for supper, finally sitting down with a pad of writing-paper on the terrace and trying to compose a letter to her brother, Tom, who lived in a croft on Iona, in the Western Isles of Scotland. He wasn’t off-grid in the normal sense of the phrase– he still had electricity and mains water– but he had no phone, no mobile, no computer, and seldom answered the letters she wrote every couple of months. A classical cellist by training, he had never been particularly stable. But now, in his sixties, he had properly retreated from the world. If it weren’t for his kindly neighbours– members of the Christian Iona Community– she wondered if he would survive at all. It was Struan or Jeanie she called when she wanted to find out how Tom was getting on. But she found herself gazing off into the distance, watching a yacht with a blue sail tack about in the breeze on the edge of the harbour. All she wanted to do was hear what was going on from Ted.
Ada’s tutorial was due at four, and she considered cancelling with some flimsy excuse. But curiosity about how Lindy might greet her drove her down to Lilac House at the appointed time.Two can play at this game, she thought grimly, unable to fathom what was going on between Ted and Lindy if it wasn’t an affair.
When Peggy rang the bell at the open front door, she received no reply. After ringing a second time with the same result, she tentatively entered the house and called. She thought she heard sounds of a radio coming from the back of the house, so she went slowly to the kitchen. She almost jumped when she found Kim sitting at the table, doing absolutely nothing but staring into space. There was no sign of the others.
Kim was tall and carrying a bit of weight, with thin blonde hair in an unkempt topknot, which unflatteringly exposed her podgy face, her clothes dull and nondescript, in stark contrast to her mother’s snazzy outfits. Peggy thought perhaps she had not always been like this, envisaging the sort of life she must have lived in London, the flash parties and dinners she would have had to attend for Felix’s work. She was clearly depressed now, her conversation polite enough, but peppered with blank silences when she appeared to be miles away, her smile soft, her movements slow. She seemed drugged, and Peggy concluded she was– perhaps on some sort of powerful antidepressants.
Now, seeing Peggy, she twitched as if she’d been woken from a doze, and roused herself, greeting her as she pushed up from the table with some effort. Scuffing in towelling mules across to the hall door she called up, ‘Ada! Ada… Come down, please. Peggy’s here.’ Then she turned back to Peggy. ‘She hasn’t had her tea yet. Can she eat while you work?’
Peggy nodded. ‘Of course. I brought these,’ she added, handing Kim a Tupperware box containing a few of the blackberry tarts. Kim took it and thanked her briefly. Peggy felt sorry for the woman, who seemed so bewildered, so lost. She wanted to ask if she was all right, but it seemed a little presumptuous as she didn’t know her well enough.
Kim didn’t say anything as she appeared to struggle with the latch on Peggy’s container. When she finally yanked it off she took two tarts out and laid them on a saucer. ‘How kind,’ she said, smiling vaguely in Peggy’s direction.
‘Is your mum here?’ Peggy asked, into the silence.
‘No, they’ve both gone out, thank goodness.’ She gavea soft snort but didn’t say more. It looked to Peggy as if she might be beginning to cry.
Taken aback, Peggy wasn’t sure what to do, what to say. She didn’t feel comfortable getting up and hugging her– which was her instinct.
‘What’s wrong, Kim?’ she asked, as the silence grew longer and longer, nondescript popular music from the radio burbling in the background. But at that moment light steps were heard on the polished flagstones in the hallway and Ada ran into the kitchen. Kim turned quickly away and busied herself fetching milk from the fridge and pouring it into a glass for her daughter. When Peggy saw her face again there was only the slight trace of tears.
Still concerned about Kim, Peggy hurried away from the house when the hour was up. Ada had been distracted and lethargic, almost mirroring her mother. Now she was keen to get home and talk to Ted.What on earth am I going to find out?she asked herself, intensely curious as well as a little anxious about what he might reveal. What she was already perfectly clear about, though, was that something was seriously not right at Lilac House.
10
Peggy opened the front door, to be greeted by Bolt’s excited bouncing and barking at her return. Ted was standing with his back to her, very still by the windows to the terrace, his arms crossed.He must have hurried home today, Peggy thought. He was sometimes back by five, but usually later. Now Ted didn’t move, even though he must have been aware she was there.
‘Hi,’ Peggy called, her heart beating faster at seeing him spin round, his face a mask of anxiety.
He came towards her and wrapped her in his arms. ‘Oh, God, Peggy, I feel so awful. I should never have promised Lindy.’ He fell silent as he held her close.
After a moment, she pulled away. ‘Let’s get a cup of tea and sit down. You can explain properly.’ Her heart hadn’t stopped fluttering at his embrace. She found she almost didn’t want to hear what he was about to say now. For Ted, who usually radiated ease and enthusiasm in equal measure, his demeanour was intense.
She moved to the counter and began to make the tea: filling the kettle, turning it on, retrieving teabags– the builders’ variety they both liked– and placing them in the elegant white china mugs with the blue rim she’d bought from a café in the village when it was closing down. She got milk from the fridge and plopped it into the brew, stirring till the colour was to her liking. And all the whileTed, behind her at the table, sat chewing his thumbnail in absolute silence.
‘Right,’ she said, almost severely, when they were opposite each other, the early evening light slanting through the bi-fold doors to lay a soft warmth on the oak surface and the side of Ted’s face.
He took a preparatory breath. ‘Okay. So, Lindy’s been coming to the van since the beginning. Not often, but regularly enough. I’ve sort of got to know her a little over the months, to pass the time of day. But nothing more.’
Peggy nodded.
‘Then a few weeks back she came up to the hatch and asked if I’d be able to take a break because she’d really like to tell me something.’ He shrugged. ‘She looked quite upset. So I was concerned and went to sit with her at one of the tables.’
Ted paused. Peggy still didn’t speak.
‘She seemed embarrassed, reluctant to tell me at first. She kept apologizing, saying,Maybe it’s nothing and I’m making a silly fuss. Finally she came out with something to the effect that it was Felix. Apparently he’s treating her weirdly. Seems to be trying to manipulate her, mess with her head.’
Peggy was puzzled. Of all the scenarios she’d spent the day inventing, once the affair was out of the running, this was not one of them. ‘What does she mean by “manipulate”? What sort of things?’
‘Well, for instance, she says Felix stole her phone and hid it in the bathroom bin, then accused her of putting it there. He said she’d forgotten to pick up Ada from tennis, when she’d never been asked to do it– Kim usually does.She bought a loaf of bread from Jake, then it disappeared and Felix insisted she’d only imagined buying it… I can’t remember everything, but that sort of thing.’
Peggy shook her head in disbelief. ‘Seriously? Could Lindy be mistaken? I mean, why on earth would Felix do that?’
