Moving On (5 page)

‘Yes, please,’ Mrs Hamilton said. ‘I like them all.’

Mr Hamilton sighed and followed her inside again.

The other people came out of the first house and Euan went across to them. ‘Sorry I couldn’t speak to you when you first arrived. Do you know the rules about developments like this?’ When they shook their heads, he explained. ‘So, you can’t live in it all year round and it has to be a second home.’ Council rules, though how he was expected to police that, he didn’t know.

The woman’s face fell. ‘Oh. Surely there’s some way round that?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘It’s such a lovely house,’ she said wistfully.

‘Thank you.’

‘Come on, love. It’s not for us.’ Her husband took her and the toddler back to the car.

Anger carried Molly through the next few days, though she woke in the night sometimes, worrying about what she was doing, fretting for an end to this uncertainty. Once you had a house up for sale, it no longer felt to be yours.

She still hadn’t got a real goal in life, apart from selling the house and moving as far away as she could from her family. A bitter laugh escaped her at that thought. Where in England would she go? Her parents were dead and she had no brothers or sisters.

Her mother’s parents had lived in Whitley Bay, but even though it was a nice little town, it was much colder up there. She remembered the icy winds off the sea in winter when she and her granddad went for walks. No, she didn’t want to live there.

Her father’s parents had lived in Wiltshire, which was a beautiful part of the world. Perhaps that would be the place to go. She’d taken Craig to see her grandparents once, but it hadn’t been a successful visit. They’d lived in a tiny village on an acre of land and he was an urban animal. They were dead now, but she still had some cousins living round there and kept in touch with one of them, Helen, by email.

She paused, coffee cup in mid air. Well, why not? Why not go and live there? She had very happy memories of Wiltshire. If she sold this house for what the estate agents had predicted, and didn’t go mad when she bought a new place, she’d have a nice lump of money behind her. She could look for a job, make friends, build a new life for herself.

And she’d be right out of the way of her family, wouldn’t have to pass them in the street, or endure duty visits from her children. She’d even change her mobile phone just before she left, so that they could only get in touch with her by email. That way, no one could harass her and spoil her day.

She took a slurp of coffee, then picked up a chocolate biscuit. But before she could take a bite, she remembered suddenly how terrible she’d looked in the wedding outfit, like a sausage about to burst its skin. And she hadn’t been able to fasten the top button on her comfiest jeans this morning. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she shoved the biscuit back into the packet and threw the whole thing into the rubbish bin.

Then she cleaned her spectacles and got on line, looking at house prices in Wiltshire. Definitely cheaper than this part of Surrey. Good.

After she’d finished her research, she went back to work on the house. She’d already decluttered ruthlessly, setting aside in the garage stuff to throw away or give to a charity shop. Was it really only four days since she’d dumped Brian and Rachel’s possessions here? It felt longer, much longer.

Don’t dwell on that
, she told herself firmly and carried on working.

She studied the front garden. Not bad. Just needed tidying up. So much physical activity helped tire her out and she started sleeping better.

She had several chats with her neighbour while she worked. They’d always got on well. Jane Benton was about eighty, but full of life and interested in everything. Her husband was pleasant but tended to keep himself to himself. Denis hadn’t looked well lately, but as Jane had said nothing about that, Molly didn’t comment.

‘You look tired,’ Jane said to her one day.

‘I am but I need to clear the house out if I’m to sell it.’

‘Can’t your son help?’

‘Brian isn’t living here any more.’

Jane looked at her sadly. ‘As bad as that?’

Molly nodded.

‘If you need to talk . . .’

‘Thanks, but I’ll be all right.’ She hated the way her voice wobbled and could see that Jane had noticed it.

‘I’ll be sorry to lose you as a neighbour. I don’t think we’ve ever exchanged a cross word, have we?’

‘Not even when Brian put that cricket ball through your side window.’

Jane chuckled and Molly was smiling too as she went back inside. People. That was what life was about.

The next day Molly decided it was time to call in the estate agents. To her surprise, they all felt she should sell the house by auction.

The man she chose to handle this was particularly insistent. ‘The market’s quite buoyant again and you’ll get far more for it that way.’

She let him persuade her. It had been so long since she’d sold a house. What did she know?

In the middle of the night she woke with a start, feeling suddenly anxious about going to auction, she couldn’t work out why. She tried to reason herself out of this. Auctions were very common these days. What could possibly go wrong? Apart from no one wanting to buy, of course, and she doubted that would happen in this area.

Anyway she’d signed the papers now. And her agent was probably right. This was a very desirable residence. Even Craig said so.

No, Graysons were a reputable real estate company and all the other agents had told her the same thing.

She dozed off then woke again, after a nightmare in which no one offered for the house, or they made only low offers.

‘Oh, you are a fool, Molly Peel!’ she muttered.

But she didn’t get back to sleep properly and as soon as it was light, she got up. She’d go and buy some punnets of flowers today to make the front garden look more appealing when people were looking round.

There was another reason why she wasn’t sleeping well, one she kept trying in vain to push to the back of her mind. Brian was coming back from his holiday tomorrow. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing him, but had vowed to stand firm and not let him live here again. Tough love, didn’t they call it?

He
had to grow up and stop using people, or what sort of a person had she raised?

And
she
had to stop letting people use her.

They were all on a learning curve – or ought to be.

She wondered how Rachel would cope with her new status. Her daughter was one of the laziest people she’d ever met, refusing to lift a finger in the house, not even picking up her dirty underwear, eating takeaway rather than make so much as a piece of toast.

Would marriage change her? She hoped so, for Jamie’s sake.

What would Rachel do when she saw the pile of stuff Molly had cleared out?

No use worrying. Done was done.

Three

Euan picked up the sales phone, since Penny hadn’t turned up at all this morning – or even rung to let him know she wasn’t coming in.

‘Gus Hamilton here.’

‘Oh, hi, Gus.’

‘Diana likes the end house, but she wants it by the end of the month. And she wants you to stop showing people round it.’

Euan thought rapidly. He’d intended to keep that house as a show home, but a sale was a sale. ‘Fine. I’ll close it as a show home as soon as you sign the contract and pay a deposit.’ And he’d get people working on the similar house at the other end of the row, move the furniture into that one and open it up for show.

They discussed the practicalities of the sale, which would be easier than usual since Gus was paying cash.

‘Looking forward to playing golf here?’ Euan asked. Membership was part of the residents’ annual fees.

‘Am I ever! Just to walk out of the door and stroll on to the course. Never had that before.’ Gus grew enthusiastic, describing several recent games and the call lasted another half-hour.

Euan didn’t mind listening because he’d made his first sale. It was small change compared to what he’d spent on the development, but it was the result of his own creation of a residential community, and that meant a lot to him.

He’d have to think of some way to celebrate tonight, but it wasn’t as much fun celebrating on your own.

Then he’d have to think where he was going to live, because he’d just had an offer to buy his own house as well.

The phone rang again, the normal line, not the sales line.

He sighed as he picked it up. If Penny was going to be away for long, he’d have to get a temp in.

Molly’s son came round to see her the following afternoon. She was in the sitting room, waiting for him, because she’d guessed he’d be coming back today, since he had to start back at work tomorrow.

She heard him try to use his key on the front door and swear when he found it didn’t work.

Not until Brian had rung the doorbell for a second time did she answer it.

He tried to give her a hug and she stepped back out of reach.

‘What’s with the new locks? Have you had burglars?’

‘No. I’m just protecting my privacy, keeping other people out.’

He looked shocked. ‘Are you that mad at me for not telling you I was going away?’

‘Disgusted would be a better word, or perhaps sickened by your selfishness.’

He blinked. ‘I don’t know why you’re so upset. Look, can’t I come in to talk about it?’

‘I suppose so.’ She led the way into the sitting room and gestured to a chair. Now that she’d seen him, she was wondering if she was overreacting. He was her son, after all.

‘Can’t we sit in the kitchen? I’d love a cup of tea and I’m really hungry.’

‘I want to talk to you, not feed you.’

He looked at her in puzzlement. ‘I don’t understand all this, Mum.’

‘I was in hospital and you never even checked that I was all right. Never even made one lousy phone call. None of you did.’

‘Dad said it was just a knock on the head and you were making a f—’

‘Making a fuss about nothing?’ She had the satisfaction of seeing her son wriggle uncomfortably. ‘I wonder how he knew that? He wasn’t there when it happened and he certainly didn’t ring the hospital to ask how I was, either.’

Brian’s face got that sulky look, as if he was still a child. Molly knew then that she wasn’t going to forgive him – well, not for a good long time – not until he showed some sign of understanding that he’d let her down badly. And she definitely wasn’t going to let him come back to live here.

‘Look, I haven’t got anywhere to stay tonight, Mum. Could you let me come back here for a few days till I sort something out? Please?’

She realized that he still hadn’t asked if she was OK. ‘I’m afraid you can’t. I’m getting the house ready for auction and I’ll be having people going round it from tomorrow onwards. You’re far too untidy. Anyway, your things have all been moved out now, so it’d be silly to bring them back again.’

‘But what am I going to do tonight?’

She almost weakened, then remembered the amazing amount of rubbish she’d had to remove from his bedroom, which had included old crisp packets and sweet wrappers stuffed down the back of the bed, not to mention something she rather thought was a spliff, though she’d never smoked marijuana so she wasn’t sure. She’d thrown that in the rubbish bin straight away. ‘Go and throw yourself on your father’s mercy. I’m sure Geneva will persuade her mother to let you stay there.’

‘Ah. Well. Geneva and I aren’t together now. We . . . um, fell out. She’s, like, the Queen of Tidy, even worse than you, and well, we argued a lot about it while we were at the cottage.’

Worse than her!
And he didn’t even realize how condescendingly he said that. As if there was something wrong with being tidy. ‘Why am I not surprised?’ she asked, which drew her a scowl from him.

She knew he’d try to wear her down and was suddenly fed up of it, so looked at her watch. ‘I’ve got the estate agent coming in a few minutes, so I have to get on. There’s just one thing before you go. Do you want those boxes of toys from the garage? If you don’t, I’ll take them to the charity shop.’

‘Yes, I do want them. I’ll take them once I’ve got somewhere to stay.’ He added with heavy sarcasm, ‘Unless you have to have the garage perfect immediately as well.’

‘Oh, I think I can find space for two cardboard boxes now that I’ve got rid of all Rachel’s wedding presents and all the rubbish from your room.’ She hadn’t heard a word from her daughter, who was still on honeymoon, and that upset her a lot. Surely Craig had told her what her mother had done?

‘She’ll throw a fit when she gets back. It’s not a big flat.’

‘That’s her problem, not mine. She’s married and independent now. And you’re old enough to be independent, too.’

She watched as Brian opened his mouth, thought better of it, then snapped it shut and walked out of the house without a word of farewell.

She was shaken by the encounter, but she’d stayed firm. Nikki would be proud of her.

Only . . . she’d now alienated both her children. Not intentionally, not with Rachel’s wedding, at least. But with Brian – well, what choice did she have? She wasn’t going to let anyone ride roughshod over her from now on.

How scornfully he’d spoken to her!

He really didn’t understand how badly he’d hurt her.

Would he ever?

Molly picked up the phone two days later. ‘Oh, Rachel. How was the honeymoon?’

‘Fine. Why are all these boxes here in the flat, Mum?’

‘Because I’m selling the house and needed to clear them out.’

‘You couldn’t wait till we got back, or put them in the garage?’

Oh, the sarcasm in her daughter’s voice. She sounded just like Craig. ‘No,’ Molly said. ‘The whole house has to be immaculate, including the garage. Look, about the wedding, I—’