Moving On (4 page)

‘You’re selling? This is a bit sudden, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. Very sudden.’

He let out an aggrieved sigh. ‘It’s another of your wild ideas, Molly. When will you grow out of them? And where’s Brian going to live once you sell the house? It’ll take him time to save up for a rent bond on a flat, so he might as well stay there till you move out yourself.’

‘I don’t care where he lives, but he’s not staying here. He’s old enough to leave home. More than. You’re welcome to house him, though, if you’re worried about him. I’m sure Tasha will enjoy picking up his dirty washing and ironing his shirts. Or you could lend him the money for his bond. He owes me too much for me to lend him another penny.’

‘You’re definitely being petty.’

‘Maybe I’m just seeing things more clearly. Our son is twenty-four and in full-time employment, so he’ll probably survive. Of course he’ll have to cut down on his boozing and clubbing to pay for a flat and the various services like electricity – and he’ll have to do his own cooking and washing too, poor thing.’

Dead silence, then, ‘But you said you wanted to go on living there. You wept all over the arbitrator about that.’

‘The main thing the arbitrator took into account was the fact that it was me who’d inherited the house and the mortgage was only for the extensions
you
had insisted on. All of which you’d left out of your financial settlement statements.’

‘I did offer to buy the house off you.’

She laughed. ‘At a knock-down price, way below the market value. I did have enough sense to check that. But if you still want to make an offer – a
realistic
offer – I’ll let you have the name of my estate agent.’

Silence, then. ‘Do that. Or . . . we could cut out the estate agent and save both of us some money.’

‘And then you could find some other way to cheat me? What do they say?
Cheat me once, shame on you. Cheat me twice, shame on me.
No, Craig, I’m selling through an estate agent, and if you’re interested, you’ll have to compete with everyone else.’

‘
If
anyone wants to buy it.’

‘It’s in a really good area with top schools nearby. The house down the road sold in the first week it was on the market. Lavengro Road is a quiet, leafy street. People love living here and don’t often move away. Anyway, I’ve a lot to do, so please ask Tasha to contact Geneva and give Brian my message. He’ll have to get someone to fetch his things. I meant what I said about having them dumped at your place tomorrow.’ She put the phone down.

It upset her that she and Craig couldn’t even hold a short conversation without bickering. ‘No, you don’t!’ she told herself fiercely as tears welled in her eyes. She’d wept and dithered enough. More than enough.

Two hours later Brian rang. ‘Mum? What’s happening?’

‘You’ve moved out.’

‘No, I haven’t.’

‘Let me put it another way. You – have been moved – out of my house – by me.’

‘But it’s my
home
. I’ve not got anywhere else to live.’

‘I’m sure your father will put you up till you find a flat.’

Silence, then, ‘He won’t. And anyway, I can’t afford a flat.’

‘Too bad. Not my problem.’

‘Why are you doing this?’

‘Remember the wedding, how I collapsed? I was bad enough for them to keep me in hospital overnight. No one in my family came to the hospital with me, or even rang up to find out how I was. Not one of you.’

Silence, then, ‘Oh. I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t think it was serious. Look, can’t you at least wait till I get back from my holiday and we’ll sort something out? Surely I can stay there till the house is sold?’

‘No, you can’t. I’m too angry. And you owe me some rent and housekeeping money, too. I’ll make up an account.’

She heard a yelp, silence, then, ‘No wonder Dad left you. I didn’t believe him when he said that underneath that sweetness and light you’re a mercenary bitch. He really wanted that house, you know.’

She sucked in a sharp breath. Was that what Craig was saying about her? Somehow she kept her voice steady. ‘Nice to know you believed him, Brian. You don’t know me very well, do you?’

Silence, and she couldn’t bear it any longer. ‘Anyway, I’ll definitely arrange to have your things dumped at your father’s house tomorrow if no one picks them up before three o’clock. They’re in the garage at the moment and I need to clear it out.’

She put the phone down on her son. Her hand was shaking, but Brian couldn’t see that. She no longer wanted to weep, though. She wanted to throw something. So she did. She picked up a glass vase Craig’s mother had once given them, such a cheap, ugly thing that he’d not wanted to take it with him. Opening the back door, she hurled it at the patio wall. It smashed into myriad pieces, and even though she knew she’d have to sweep them up later, it still felt wonderful to do it!

As she went back into the house, she had a sudden thought. She went on line and found a local locksmith, noting down the phone number. She was pretty sure Brian and Rachel didn’t have back door keys, but they both had front door keys. Craig might still have one, too. The back door keys were big, old-fashioned things and there had only ever been two of them. She went to check. Yes, one was hanging on the key rack in the pantry and the other was in the back door.

She rang the locksmith, arranging to have the front door lock changed within the hour, pretending she’d had an intruder.

She must have done something very wrong as a mother, to have raised children who turned out so uncaring. Yet she’d loved them so much. Had she been too soft with them, as Craig always claimed? Yes, she decided, wiping away more tears – she had. He’d been far stricter and look how they respected him.

She couldn’t help caring about them, even now, but love was a two-way street, or it should be. And she wasn’t going to hang around any longer, begging for crumbs of affection, letting them walk all over her.

It was time to toughen up. No one was going to get the better of her from now on. She couldn’t live through such an agonizing humiliation again.

Half an hour later the doorbell rang and when she peeped out of the window, Molly saw her friend Nikki outside.

She wasn’t sure she was ready to face anyone yet, even such a close friend, but she went to answer it.

Nikki burst into the house with her usual exuberance. ‘So . . . how did the wedding go?’

Molly fought for control and lost the struggle within less than a minute. With tears rolling down her cheeks, she let Nikki guide her into the kitchen and poured out her tale of woe, ending, ‘And they didn’t even let me invite you to the wedding, even though you’ve known the children since they were small. I’m sorry about that.’

Nikki listened without commenting other than to make soothing noises, then hugged her and went to fish in the fridge. ‘What you need is a glass of wine.’

‘Why not.’

She poured them both some. ‘Here’s to your new life.’

Molly dutifully clinked glasses, but she might have been drinking vinegar for all she could taste.

‘What are you going to do now?’

‘I’m not sure, but I’ve made a start, at least.’

‘You have?’

Her friend sounded so doubtful, Molly said defiantly, ‘Yes. I’ve got as far as chucking Brian out and deciding to put this house up for sale.’

Nikki cheered loudly and did a war dance round the room. ‘About time. Haven’t I been telling you to give him the elbow? Haven’t I?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did he ever pay you any rent? Or contribute towards the electricity and food?’

‘Now and then.’

‘How often is that?’

‘About once a month.’

‘He’s in for a shock, then. Reality has sharp teeth.’

Molly nodded, took another sip of wine and said what she’d been thinking. ‘I’ve been an absolute doormat, haven’t I?’

‘Yes. But a lovely one.’ Nikki leaned forward to give her a hug. ‘My very favourite doormat, in fact.’ She picked up her glass, swirling what was left round and round, then asked, ‘Have you seen Brian yet?’

‘No. He’s not due back till Friday.’

‘He’ll try to persuade you to change your mind. Don’t give in. Please.’

‘I won’t.’

‘You might. You’ve always been a soft touch.’

It was Molly’s turn to stare into her wine. ‘Not this time. I do mean that. The worm has turned.’

‘Way to go.’ Nikki leaned forward to clink glasses. ‘We should get Di round and have a girls’ night in.’

‘Let’s do it. But not yet. Not till I’m feeling better. Besides, I want to make a start on the house.’ She put her hand across the top of the glass. ‘No more. I have too much to do.’

Nikki looked at her own glass regretfully and put the bottle back in the fridge. ‘And I’m driving, so I’d better be sensible. Will you be all right?’

‘Yes, of course I will.’

But the house felt very empty after Nikki left.

‘Get used to it!’ Molly told herself.

When Craig’s secretary rang to say he’d be sending a removal firm round the following morning to remove all the things she’d put into the garage, all she said was ‘Fine.’

‘And would you please tell them which are Brian’s and which are Rachel’s. Mr Taylor’s sending your daughter’s things straight to her flat.’

‘Yes.’

Once the house was cleared and tissied up to look its best, she’d contact some estate agents and made appointments to show them round the house.

She went to bed at eight o’clock, feeling exhausted. She was coping – wasn’t she? Doing the right thing – wasn’t she?

Why did it have to hurt so much?

Euan opened the sales office for the first time on a sunny Saturday. It was a second-hand transportable unit, but had been smartened up and painted the same colour as the houses. He hadn’t forgotten how to cut corners and save money here and there.

He had a feeling of mild anxiety about today, unusual for him, but a lot depended on how the houses sold. Would people like his lodges? Want to live in his village?

He usually felt confident of what he was doing because he didn’t go into any business deal without careful research and number crunching, but this was more important to him than other deals. This had been his dream for years.

He sat behind the desk, trying to look relaxed. An hour passed slowly and no one came to look at the houses. He got angry with himself for wasting time and got out some paperwork, of which there was always a pile needing doing. Penny didn’t help him with the details as Avril had done.

Just as he was starting on some calculations, a car drew up outside. He didn’t go out to greet them, didn’t want to seem pushy. An older couple got out and studied the row of houses, then the big signboard outside which displayed the artist’s impression of the finished development, the one he’d used on his website. They looked round, pointing things out to one another, taking their time.

He watched them closely, glad the sun was shining. It was a beautiful setting, not just because the land the village was being built on was attached to a golf course, but because he’d left patches of woodland, here and there, with as many large trees as he could, and had created several small lakes – well, they were closer to big ponds, but he preferred to call them lakes. He’d put a lot of effort into keeping Marlbury beautiful, as well as eco-friendly.

The couple seemed pleased with what they saw, and turned to come inside the sales office.

He took them over to the model, then sat them down and explained the set-up and prices. ‘These are second homes only and residents aren’t allowed to live here for one month of the year.’

‘We saw that on your website,’ the man said. ‘It wouldn’t upset us because we live mainly in Spain. But we’ve decided we want a foothold here for the English summers.’

‘Far too hot in Spain then,’ the woman said with a grimace. ‘But before we even start doing our sums, what we really want to do is to look round and see if we like the houses.’

‘The first three lodges are open for inspection, the ones with the bunting across the front. I’m sure you’ll do better going round them on your own than with me hovering over you.’ He saw from their expressions that he’d guessed right. ‘Just come back if you’ve any questions or want to take matters further.’

They took the brochures and left. He followed their progress on the CCTV system, watching the expressions on their faces with great attention. Positive, he thought. Definitely positive.

But when they left the houses, they didn’t come back into the sales office, just drove off. He shrugged and wrote them off mentally. There would be quite a few who popped in out of sheer nosiness, he was sure. The majority, in fact. People had even driven into the building site to have a look, though it was signposted as not being a through road. But he made sure there was a chain across the road at night and the smaller equipment was carefully locked up in a huge temporary shed he’d had erected behind a clump of trees.

At four o’clock the Hamiltons arrived, a couple he knew slightly socially. They had a home in the US and another in Australia, and seemed to spend their life moving from one place to another. They were charming, educated people, exactly the sort he wanted to attract as residents, but they enjoyed being fussed over, so he took them round the houses in person.

Someone else arrived as they were coming out of the first house, and he excused himself for a few moments to run up and offer them a brochure.

‘This is quite a nice little cottage,’ Mrs Hamilton said, after going round the final and largest of the houses.

Her husband was looking longingly at the golf course and had peered at it out of each window on that side of the houses. ‘It’s far enough away that we won’t get hit by balls, but close enough to walk.’ He nodded in approval.

‘Do you want to go round the houses again on your own?’ Euan asked.