First Friends (24 page)

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Authors: Marcia Willett

BOOK: First Friends
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On the few occasions when Tom had quoted gossip that he'd heard she would look sorrowful and talk of the spitefulness of jealous women and the humiliation of rejected men and then turn the subject slightly to some event or visit where Tom had not been quite so honourable as he might have been. Baffled, he would withdraw, only to be flattered and charmed back into the magic circle that she made for him, until everything else receded to the edge of his consciousness.

His hope that Cass's father would be a restraining influence had not been realised. In fact, the General had quite unconsciously proved a tremendous help. Now in his seventy-fifth year, he had a slight heart attack and the heat had kept him more or less housebound but he was well enough, with Mrs Hampton's help, to have the children to visit. They would walk down after lunch in a little chattering group, the twins often taking it in turn to give Saul a piggyback, to spend an hour or two with the doting pair before sitting down to the sort of tea that most children see only on very special occasions. Only two-year-old Gemma stayed with her mother.

Often, on these afternoons, Tony's car might have been seen nosing its way up the drive and pulling round out of sight behind the stables. Slipping in through the back door he would find Cass, smiling, warm, waiting, and they would climb the stairs giggling like naughty children and shushing each other lest Gemma should wake out of her afternoon slumbers. Several times this happened and Cass slipped away from Tony's protests to bring the child back and set her on the bedroom floor with toys and books before climbing back on to the bed
to continue where they had left off. Once Tony, crying out in an ecstasy of fulfilment, had collapsed across Cass's breasts only to find himself gazing into a different, if almost identical set of wide blue eyes. Gemma, who had pulled herself up by the quilt, gazed back gravely.

‘Christ, Cass!' He had rolled away in ludicrous prudery, dragging the quilt over his naked loins, and Cass, shaking with silent mirth, had carried Gemma away so that Tony might dress in private.

On one afternoon Mrs Tanner, the Rector's wife, had arrived and Cass, descending calmly—yes, she had been having a little nap—had given her tea whilst upstairs Tony lounged naked amongst the crumpled sheets, smoking and reading Tom's latest Wilbur Smith.

‘Still playing Russian roulette, Cass?' asked Kate, who arrived unexpectedly early one afternoon to collect the twins.

Tony, looking slightly sheepish when Kate asked him if he'd come to borrow a book, had slipped away and the two girls lounged on sun beds drinking cold drinks.

‘Can't resist, darling.' Cass stretched lazily. ‘It's such fun. How's the gorgeous Alex?'

‘Away buying,' said Kate coldly, and Cass burst out laughing.

‘No good looking po-faced, my sweet. Anyone with half an eye can see that he's potty about you. Why don't you relax a bit and enjoy it?'

‘I'm afraid to,' said Kate quietly. ‘I'm not like you, Cass. I only wish I were. It would make life so much easier. Can't you see how wonderful it would be to get rid of all my frustration by rolling about in bed with someone who meant nothing to me?'

Cass sat up and looked at her. ‘Oh, dear. Fallen for him?'

‘I might have done,' said Kate miserably. ‘I don't know any more. I can't afford another mistake. But I'm not going to be just one more in a long row of conquests, either.'

Cass raised her eyebrows. ‘Like that, is he? I'm surprised. I always find him rather distant.'

‘Well, I suppose there are, conceivably, one or two males on this earth who might just be impervious to your charms,' said Kate,
somewhat acidly—and then laughed. ‘Sorry. It's just that he's got all these bloody women who come into the shop and want to tell me about his reputation.'

‘I should have thought that you of all people would know better than to believe that sort of rumour,' remarked Cass, and felt remorseful when Kate coloured slowly under her tan. ‘Surely you know him well enough to judge him by now without listening to a pack of jealous women. What do
you
think?'

‘I don't know!' cried poor Kate. ‘If only I did! I think I'm going mad.'

‘Bring him to dinner one weekend. I'll invite Abby and William. We'll give him the works.'

‘I don't doubt it.' Kate began to laugh. ‘I can just see it. Thanks but no thanks. I'd as soon join Daniel for a bite in the lions' den!'

T
OWARDS THE END OF
the holidays, Mark's mother telephoned Kate and asked if the twins could be spared for a few days to stay in Cheltenham. Mark, she said, would be there for a week of his leave and it seemed a good opportunity for a get together. Kate had seen the Websters once since the Commissioning. They had driven down just before Christmas and a white-faced Mrs Webster had begged Kate to reconsider her decision. It was plain that she didn't believe in Kate's mythical lover although the Major continued to stare at her as if she were a rather undesirable species quite beyond his comprehension.

Feeling a complete brute, Kate tried to explain that she and Mark were utterly incompatible and that a reconciliation was quite out of the question but that it need make no difference to Mrs Webster's relationship with her grandchildren. Kate knew full well that Mark would make no effort to see his sons unless there were a third person at hand to cope with all the boring bits. She also knew that his latent streak of cruelty would be kept under control with his mother around.

So it was that the unwilling twins were dispatched to Cheltenham, the only bright spot in their opinion being that they would be travelling
by train unaccompanied. The Websters, who were going down to Cornwall on holiday, would bring them back by car. Kate drove them to Exeter St David's where they would catch a train that went straight through to Cheltenham and praised God, as she often did, that there were two of them.

She drove back across the moor, sombre now in a soft grey mist, and stopped to give the dogs a run on Crockern Tor. As she climbed the Tor behind them, getting very damp in the process, she thought about the twins, wondering how they would cope with Mark. She decided to use the tactic she had used when they were very small and asking questions: answer only what they ask, as truthfully and briefly as possible. Children, she had found, asked only as much as they were capable of assimilating. If one droned on, they became confused or bored and, though it was sometimes tempting to take them one stage further on, she generally resisted it. So it was now. They rarely asked after Mark and when they did she said that he was at sea. They knew the boat was based in Faslane and she assumed that they felt that life was following a fairly normal pattern. Mark had never written to them as some fathers wrote to their children and when he communicated with Kate on some financial matter she would always tell them that she had heard from him and that he sent his love. When she had told them about the proposed visit to Cheltenham they were surprised. Why Cheltenham? Kate explained that Mark only had a week and felt that he must try to see his parents. Giles had asked why she wasn't coming to Cheltenham and she had explained that she had promised to be at the shop because Alex had to go away. She pointed out that she could see Mark when they were at school, implying that this sometimes happened, and they accepted it readily enough although she was well aware that Giles would have been happier if she had been going too.

Giles is not as self-sufficient as Guy, thought Kate, stopping to get her breath and turning to look down on Parson's Cottage, set among some trees. She suspected that there was more than a touch of Mark in Guy and although it was tempting to think of this with alarm she knew that, tempered with other qualities, it need not be worrying. Giles
was much gentler by comparison, more inclined to self-doubt, more openly affectionate. She wondered what Mark's approach to them would be and was glad that his mother—who adored the twins—would be on hand. She whistled to the dogs and started to descend to the car, praying that the week would pass without problems.

She dropped down into Tavistock to do some shopping and had got as far as the pavement when she realised that it was early closing day. So it was that Alex saw her standing beside her car, irresolute and dejected, her hair covered in misty droplets. He hesitated only for a moment.

‘Kate!' he shouted and saw her head come up and round. For one glorious second he saw the unmistakable expression on her face. He ran across the road. By the time he reached the pavement she had regained her composure but he took her cold hands and she made no effort to prevent him.

‘Come and have some tea,' he said. ‘Please. I need to talk to you. We can't just go on like this.'

He drew her a little closer but before she could speak, a voice spoke from behind him.

‘My dear Alex! You're a positive menace to the female sex. It was three o'clock when I finally levered you out this morning and here you are making up to poor Kate in broad daylight in the middle of Duke Street. There should be a law against you!'

At the sound of the hated voice, Kate shook herself free and, climbing into her car, set off at speed, leaving Alex and Pam standing on the pavement.

C
ASS, SELECTING HER CHEESES
in Creber's, heard a familiar voice and glanced round.

‘Well, well,' she drawled. ‘If it isn't Felicity. How are you?'

Felicity, who was obviously more than able to restrain her delight at the sight of her old sparring partner, raised her eyebrows. ‘Bit early in the day for you, isn't it, Cass? I didn't realise that you knew that the day started before eleven o'clock.'

‘And me with four children?' Cass's eyes swept Felicity's spare, bird-like form. ‘Still barren, I see.'

Felicity glanced around, scandalised, and met the sympathetic glances of at least two of the shop assistants.

‘You know very well . . . ' she began furiously, in a lowered voice.

‘And I hear that you're spreading terrible lies about Kate.' Cass did not lower her voice. ‘I know she ruined your little extramarital affair with George but you shouldn't be vindictive, Felicity. There is such a thing as slander, you know. Love to Mark II. Special love, of course.'

She went out, smiling graciously upon the young man who hastened to open the door for her.

Felicity saw that the glances now were not so sympathetic and her lips thinned. Boiling with rage she went to the cold-meat counter. She was damned if she'd be made embarrassed enough to feel that she had to leave. ‘I want some ham,' she said and did not add the word ‘please.'

Cassandra sauntered along Duke Street smiling to herself. Damn, she thought, I didn't get my cheese! Ah, well, coffee, I think.

She paused for a moment and then, crossing the road, made her way by side and back streets to the bookshop. Alex looked up as she came in. He looked tired and preoccupied and there was no sign of Kate.

‘I was hoping to carry Kate off for a cup of coffee,' she said when they had exchanged greetings.

‘She's not in,' he said, rather abruptly. ‘She phoned to say that she'd got a migraine.'

‘Oh?' Cass looked concerned. ‘Of course. She took the twins to Exeter yesterday, didn't she? She's probably worried sick that Mark's going to beat them up or something.'

Alex looked so patently puzzled that Cass smiled.

‘Sorry. Just thinking aloud. Are you OK? You look pretty rough yourself.'

‘Just tired. What did you mean?'

Cass looked at him for a long moment. ‘I'm going to do something
quite unforgivable,' she said at last. ‘I'm going to interfere. I suspect that you know next to nothing about Kate's marriage or what the situation is between her and Mark? Or what she thinks about you?'

‘I know she thinks I'm the biggest philanderer since Casanova,' said Alex bitterly. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his cords and stood, head bent, jingling the coins in his pocket. ‘I saw her yesterday,' he said eventually without looking at her. ‘She was just standing there in the rain looking so vulnerable and alone. I called her and when she looked at me . . . I could swear there was a look on her face that . . . ' He shrugged. ‘Well, I just grabbed her, you see.' He took his hands from his pockets and rubbed them over his face. ‘Should I be telling you this?'

‘Definitely!' said Cass firmly. She moved over to the door and turned the OPEN sign round so that it said CLOSED. A woman peering in looked affronted and Cass beamed at her before turning back to Alex who was watching her, nonplussed. ‘I see that I have much to say to you. Kate's migraine is obviously an excuse not to face you this morning?'

‘Obviously.' He shrugged again. ‘What can I say to her? She stonewalls me at every turn and yet, underneath, I was so sure that there was something. And yesterday . . .‘ He sighed. ‘I've read enough between the lines to realise that there's not much of a marriage there but she tells me nothing. I suppose that she thinks that I'm hoping for an affair but it's not just that. I've let her know that I'm divorced, have been for some years now, and there are no children. There have been women in that time—why not? But she seems to view me as a local Don Juan and herself as the next scalp on the list.'

‘I can see that I'm quite right to interfere. Now, why don't we go somewhere where we can have a long, quiet chat? I've been Kate's closest friend since we were twelve years old and you've got an awful lot of catching up to do.'

‘T
HE TROUBLE IS
,'
SAID
Kate as she followed the General into the kitchen, ‘that I'm just so afraid of trusting to my own judgment. Let me make the coffee. Are you really better?'

‘Perfectly well,' he assured her. ‘And Mrs Hampton leaves everything ready as you can see. She's up at the Rectory this morning. You sit down at the table and tell me all about it.'

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