For Better For Worse (46 page)

Sarah’s dress was a rich cream taffeta and her hair was elegantly caught up on the top of her head behind a small tiara. She looked so radiant, he could hardly believe his eyes. She couldn’t speak of course, but he saw her give him a little wink.

After the service, as the photographer clicked away, Max was impatient. He wished it was done and dusted so that she could see the barn. The photographs seemed to take an age. He was made to stand with this person and that, to pose with the Best Man and then the bridesmaids.

Then at last, the pair of them were heading to the reception. In these austere times, their wedding breakfast was only sandwiches and cake, with wedding cake to follow, but he knew it would be perfect. Sarah was the first to step through the creaking door. She stopped and gasped. ‘Oh darling!’ she cried, her eyes lighting up. ‘It’s amazing.’

‘I wanted you to have a day to remember,’ he smiled. ‘And many happy years to come.’

‘Oh, I shall,’ she whispered. She lifted her head, and when her lips brushed his, his heart melted.

*

‘Shall I make the tea and bring it out into the garden?’ asked Sarah.

‘Good idea, darling,’ said Max.

It was nine months later and a beautiful June afternoon. Annie and Edward had left the sweet shop in the Steyne where she was training to be the manager (allowing Mr Richardson to retire), to join Sarah, Max and the girls for Sunday lunch at their new home on the outskirts of Chichester. Lottie, who had sold Copper Beeches in the winter of the previous year and moved into a small cottage nearby, was also with them.

‘I’ll get the garden chairs out,’ said Max.

‘Let me give you a hand.’ Stan Greenaway, Lottie’s gentleman friend followed him out into the garden. He was an older man, a widower around fifty-five years old with steel-grey hair and a merry twinkle in his eye.

‘He’s really nice,’ said Annie giving Lottie a side hug as she did the last of the drying up. ‘Where did you meet him?’

‘He’s an auctioneer,’ said Sarah. ‘We met him about five months ago at a sale. He and Lottie have been inseparable ever since.’

‘Oooh,’ squealed Annie. ‘Do I hear wedding bells?’

Lottie was just about to tip the water from the washing-up bowl down the sink. Instead, she splashed Annie’s arm playfully. ‘Shh,’ she said. ‘He’ll hear you.’

Sarah and Annie looked at each other and grinned.

‘We’re just good friends,’ Lottie protested but she was blushing happily.

‘How is the business?’ Annie asked. ‘You said you were renting a bigger shop in your last letter.’

‘Actually we got the place next door and knocked it into one,’ Sarah explained. ‘We’ve got furniture in one part and a small tea room in the other. It’s doing very well, isn’t it Lottie?’

‘Very well,’ said Lottie.

‘What will you do when the baby comes?’

Sarah glanced at her friend. ‘We haven’t worked that one out yet,’ she said.

The washing up done, Sarah put the teapot onto the tray.

‘Here, let me take that,’ said Max, coming back indoors. ‘You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things in your condition.’

‘Don’t be silly, darling,’ Sarah laughed. ‘I’m only four months pregnant.’

Outside in the sunshine, they relaxed in garden chairs with their tea. At nineteen months old, Edward toddled around after the girls, who were playing mummies and daddies in a hollowed-out area of rhododendron in the shrubbery.

‘I hate to bring a small cloud into this lovely day,’ said Max, ‘but I have something to tell you all. Have any of you been reading the papers?’

‘Who wants to read newspapers,’ said Annie. ‘Ever since we sent our troops to Korea, they’re all full of doom and gloom.’

Lottie shivered. ‘I really hoped we had put an end to war.’

‘Unless we try to stop them, my dear,’ said Stan, ‘I’m afraid that our way of life will be gone forever and communism will rule the world.’

‘The story I’m referring to hasn’t been in the nationals,’ said Max, ‘and it’s a little closer to home.’ Pausing until he had everyone’s attention, he reached into his back pocket and drew out his wallet. ‘Developers near Horsham have found a body,’ he said, handing round a small newspaper cutting under the heading
Man found dead.

‘So?’ said Annie.

‘It’s Henry,’ said Max.

Annie took in her breath, Sarah clutched at her throat and Lottie reached for Stan’s hand to squeeze it tight.

‘Henry?’ Stan whispered. ‘Is that …’ and Lottie nodded.

‘Darling, are you sure?’ said Sarah.

Edward fell and began to wail. Annie started to get up, but Lottie said, ‘We’ll go and sort him out. You and Sarah need to talk. He’s fine. Just a little tumble,’ and jerking her head at Stan, the two of them went to the child.

‘He’ll have to be formally identified,’ Max went on, ‘but I’m as sure as I can be. I knew it as soon as they showed me his briefcase. It was found at the scene.’

‘Why? What was in it?’ Annie asked nervously.

‘It was water-damaged having been in the ditch for so long,’ Max went on, ‘but it contained an expensive brooch in a box belonging to a London jeweller and papers appertaining to a house sale.’

‘The Chichester house?’ asked Sarah.

‘The Chichester house,’ said Max.

The women were silent, and for a moment, the only sound in the garden was the happy laughter of the children as Lottie and Stan chased them around the shrubbery.

‘If it’s any consolation to the pair of you,’ Max went on, ‘you weren’t the only people Henry hoodwinked. I long suspected him of having something to do with Mrs Grenville Hartley’s death and I found some of her papers in that same briefcase. She killed herself because he had milked her of her fortune.’

‘He was an absolute rat,’ said Annie, ‘and I just couldn’t see it.’

‘I can’t believe it,’ said Sarah eventually, ‘that he’s really gone for ever.’

‘So what next?’ asked Annie.

‘You will be informed officially once they’ve checked his dental records,’ said Max, ‘and then there’ll be an inquest.’

‘Do they know how he died?’

‘My guess is that he died in the ditch not long after the accident,’ said Max. ‘Nobody realised he was there.’

Sarah leaned forward and felt the teapot. ‘The tea is cold,’ she said. ‘I’ll go and make some more.’ She stood up and went into the house. Max didn’t follow. He knew she wanted a minute or two on her own.

‘Before the others come back,’ Max said to Annie, ‘I wanted to tell you that there were some photographs in the briefcase.’

Annie took in her breath and her eyes grew wide. Max put his hand up. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said quickly. ‘They were badly damaged, and besides, there’s no reason on earth why they should be made public.’

‘Were they awful?’ asked Annie faintly.

Max nodded. ‘But we don’t know who the woman is, so don’t worry. The chapter is closed.’ He looked towards the house. ‘I’d better go … Sarah may need me.’

‘Yes, yes of course,’ said Annie.

Max was getting to his feet. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine,’ she smiled. ‘And Max … thank you.’

‘There’s one good thing,’ he added. ‘Henry’s name was on the children’s birth certificates. Any assets belonging to him will now come to them.’

‘Surely everything will go to Kaye’s estate?’ said Annie.

‘She survived him as far as we’re concerned,’ said Max. ‘But even if she didn’t, the three houses belong to his next of kin.’

Annie’s face lit up. ‘The children?’

‘The children.’

Back in the kitchen, he found Sarah red-eyed and pouring boiling water into the teapot. When she’d put the lid on the teapot, he took her into his arms.

‘So,’ she said softly, ‘it’s finally over. Henry has gone forever. This is how it all ends.’

Max cupped her face in his hands and looked deep into her eyes. And just before he kissed her tenderly, he said, ‘Oh no my darling girl, this is where it all begins.’

I am grateful to my agent, Juliet Burton. You are always there to encourage me and spur me on to greater things. You’re the tops!

My thanks also to my editor Helen Bolton and the wonderful team at Avon. I am forever in your debt.

Adopted from birth, Pam Weaver trained as a Nursery Nurse working mainly in children’s homes. She was also a Hyde Park nanny. In the 1980s she and her husband made a deliberate decision that she should be a full-time mum to their two children. Pam wrote for small magazines and specialist publications, finally branching out into the women’s magazine market. Pam has written numerous articles and short stories, many of which have been featured in anthologies. Her story
The Fantastic Bubble
was broadcast on BBC Radio 4 and the World Service. This is her fifth book.

A gripping family drama for fans of Kitty Neale and Maureen Lee.

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Full of family drama, this is the perfect read for fans of Maureen Lee and Katie Flynn.

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An enthralling novel of friendship from
Sunday Times
bestselling author Pam Weaver. Perfect for fans of Katie Flynn and Maureen Lee.

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Avon

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2014

Copyright © Pam Weaver 2014

Cover photographs © Getty and Alamy

Cover design © Debbie Clement 2014

Pam Weaver asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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Source ISBN: 9781847563637

Ebook Edition © July 2014 ISBN: 9780007480456

Version: 2014-06-11

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