Never Say Goodbye (29 page)

I’m fine
, the reply had come back.
Thank you for asking
.
See you at 3. Bel.

Bel Monkton. It was a nice name, Josie had decided when she’d first heard it, though she’d assumed it was spelt with two ‘l’s and an ‘e’ until she’d received the text.

At the sound of a car slowing up she glanced along the road to where a silver Aston Martin was waiting to turn into the gates next door. There was plenty of money up around this way, that was for sure, a bit like on the other side of their hill where the properties all had full-on sea views. It was another world, nothing like the one she came from, which was why she couldn’t get to grips with how presumptuous it felt being here, especially when she ought to have been able to sort out her problems for herself. Heaven knew other people did, so what was she thinking, asking for help from a woman she’d never met, would normally never have anything to do with, and who very probably had enough problems of her own.

If she did, it didn’t look as though money was one of them.

She’d lost her sister, that couldn’t have been easy, and for all Josie knew her husband might have cheated on her, or one of her children could be in a terrible rebellion. And who was to say this house wasn’t about to be repossessed? It was happening all over these days, though less to the rich than to people like her.

Maybe she should turn around and go home. After all, what was she expecting Bel Monkton to do? Tell Jeff and the children for her? Actually, a part of her wouldn’t mind that, though she’d never let anyone do it, any more than she’d expect them to offer.

Feeling the phone vibrating in her pocket she pulled it out and found a text from Jeff.
Just had a customer compliment me on my new gloves.

She smiled at the message. She’d found the gloves in the Oxfam shop opposite the caff; brand new, still in the box and made out of real leather, so she’d snapped them up for Lily and Jasper to give him on his birthday. Pleased as Punch he’d been, had even kept them on in the karaoke bar until Lily had made him take them off.

Josie’s first thought when she’d seen them had been to wrap them up and say they were from Ryan, but she’d been afraid of spoiling the evening if she did that. She’d given him the card Ryan had signed for him though,
Happy Birthday Dad, yours truly, Ryan.
Lily had laughed when she’d read it, and teased him for being so formal.

‘I wouldn’t send one at all if Mum hadn’t brought this one,’ he’d retorted stroppily. ‘I’m only doing it for her.’

‘And for Dad,’ Josie had insisted. ‘He’ll be thrilled to bits even though he won’t show it.’

‘I wouldn’t bank on that,’ Ryan told her sulkily. ‘Anyway, how is the old goat? Is his taxi back on the road yet?’

‘It is, at least for the time being. He hasn’t had any more fares like the one he had up to Heathrow a couple of weeks ago, but business seems to be picking up a bit lately.’

‘At least that’ll put him in a good mood for tonight,’ Lily commented.

‘He’s always in a good mood with you,’ Ryan reminded her. ‘It’s me he can’t stand.’

‘Don’t talk nonsense,’ Josie chided. ‘You’re his son, he loves you, but he’s not very proud of the fact that you’re in here. Now tell us what you’ve been up to. I enjoyed your letter about
Treasure Island.
If you’d written essays like that when you were at school I reckon you’d have been top of the class.’

Lighting up at the praise, he said, ‘Paul reckons I ought to do an English GCSE while I’m in here. Not that it’ll be much use when it comes to finding a job, like the welding, but he says it’s good to have a qualification anyway.’

‘And if you’re enjoying reading,’ Lily piped up, ‘which you obviously are, it’ll help the time to pass a bit faster.’

‘That’s what Paul says.’

‘Where is he today?’ Josie asked, looking around.

‘He was here earlier, but he’s gone to visit his gran up north until Monday.’

As prison visits went it had been one of the better ones, though her dear son, with his freckly face and wide-eyed stare, had still looked wretched when they’d left and had clung to her like he was afraid he might never see her again.

It was during the train journey back that she’d rung Bel Monkton, taking advantage of the hour on her own while Lily and Jasper drove to Kesterly in their two-seater car.

And now here she was, still not pressing the bell, which was just stupid when it was starting to rain. The woman obviously wouldn’t mind talking to her, or she’d have said no when she was asked.

To her astonishment the gates started to open. A moment later a tall, lovely-looking woman with short blonde hair was coming out of the door. ‘Mrs Clark? Josie?’ she called out.

Realising she must have spotted her hovering, Josie headed along the drive, feeling foolish and slightly shabby in her pink wool coat.

‘Sorry,’ Bel Monkton said, ‘I hope you weren’t waiting long. I don’t think the bell can be working.’

‘Oh no, I’m sure it’s fine,’ Josie told her, feeling certain she’d seen this woman before. ‘I just hadn’t got round to ringing it yet.’

Bel smiled, and held out a hand in welcome. ‘Come in before you get wet,’ she urged.

Stepping into a large, hexagonal-shaped entrance hall with lots of photographs hanging on the walls, and several closed doors, Josie let her bag slide from her shoulder as she gazed up at the skylights. Wow, this was impressive.

‘It’s such a horribly grey day, isn’t it,’ Bel commented, shutting out the rain, ‘and it’s supposed to be spring next week. Who’d have guessed? Come on through, the fire’s lit and I’ve already put the kettle on.’

‘It’s really kind of you to see me,’ Josie said, following her into a room that was bigger than the entire downstairs of her house, and yet still managed to seem cosy in a fancy-magazine sort of way. ‘Oh my, you’ve got a lovely view from here. I don’t expect you ever get tired of it.’

‘I think there would be something wrong with me if I did,’ Bel smiled. ‘Can I take your coat?’

Unfastening the buttons, Josie handed it over and hoped her best turquoise sweater and black cotton trousers didn’t look too over the top for a Tuesday afternoon, especially when her hostess was wearing blue jeans and a black polo neck.

‘What sort of tea do you like?’ Bel asked, hanging the coat over the back of a chair and heading into the kitchen. ‘I have most kinds: regular, Earl Grey, peppermint, jasmine . . .’

‘Whatever you’re having,’ Josie told her, not wanting to be any trouble. ‘No milk or sugar.’ It seemed strange having this woman waiting on her, but she could hardly offer to take over, so she stayed where she was and had a quick look round. ‘You have a lovely home,’ she stated, wondering what Jeff would say if he knew she was here.

‘What do you want to go bothering anyone else for?’ he’d probably grumble, or something along those lines. ‘They’re not interested in what’s happening to you, they’re just doing their bit for charity the way they do, so they can boast about it to their mates.’

‘I used to clean a house a bit like this,’ she said to Bel, ‘over on the north side of the bay, but they hadn’t done it up nearly as nicely as you have. Did you do it yourselves?’

‘There’s only me,’ Bel told her. ‘I’m not married or with anyone, and renovating old properties is kind of what I do. I’m glad you like it.’

Surprised that her opinion would matter, and that someone so lovely was on her own, Josie asked, ‘Have you been here long?’

‘About five years. I keep meaning to move on, but I haven’t quite got round to it yet. Shall we sit by the fire?’

As Josie perched on the edge of a sofa, she watched Bel setting a tray on a coffee table before sinking into a giant black beanbag. The teacups and saucers were colourfully decorated with oriental patterns and the matching teapot had a bamboo handle. It was one of the prettiest things Josie had ever seen.

‘Thank you,’ she smiled, as Bel passed one of the delicate cups.

‘Jasmine,’ Bel told her, ‘one of my favourites.’

‘Mine too,’ Josie declared, though she’d only ever had it at the Chinese on North Walk, had never thought to buy any for home. The familiar, sweet scent of it made her feel slightly more relaxed, or maybe it was how easy this woman was to be with that was putting paid to her nerves.

‘Cheers,’ Bel said, raising her cup. ‘It’s lovely to meet you, though I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.’

Josie grimaced. ‘It’s kind of you to see me. I hope I don’t end up wasting your time.’

‘I can’t imagine you will. Would you care for a biscuit?’

Taking one, more out of politeness than hunger, Josie nibbled the edge and put the rest in her saucer.

‘In case you’re wondering,’ Bel said, ‘the toys belong to my niece and nephew.’

Glancing to where they were stacked in a corner, Josie asked, ‘Your sister’s children?’

Bel nodded. ‘They live with their father and stepmother over in Senway, but they’re often here. I believe your children are more or less grown up now.’

‘That’s right. Lily’s at uni in Bristol. And Ryan’s . . . Well, he’s not living with us for the moment.’ She felt herself starting to flush. ‘Actually, he’s in prison,’ she admitted. She had to be straight with this woman, or they were never going to get anywhere.

‘Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that,’ Bel responded with feeling. ‘It must be quite a worry for you. Do you see him much?’

Touched by the genuine-sounding concern, Josie said, ‘Thankfully he’s only in Bristol, so I try to get up there every other Saturday. That’s all the visits he’s allowed. It’s a horrible place, and he really shouldn’t be there, because he didn’t do what they charged him with. I know everyone says that when they go down, but Ryan only copped to the charge because the yobs he got involved with threatened to harm us, his family, if he didn’t.’

Bel looked aghast. ‘That’s awful,’ she declared. ‘Isn’t there anything you can do about that, someone you can talk to?’

Josie almost smiled. In Bel Monkton’s world there was probably always someone to talk to, and something to be done. ‘We used up all our savings on a lawyer,’ she admitted, ‘but when someone confesses to a crime there’s not much anyone can do. Sorry, you don’t want to hear about all that . . .’

‘But I do, it’s important.’

She really seemed to mean it. ‘Thank you,’ Josie said, ‘it is to me, but as you know, it’s not why I’m here so we ought not to get sidetracked. Well, I suppose it
is
why I’m here in a way, because at some point I’m going to have to make myself tell him what’s going on with me. Before that, though, I’ve got to break it to my husband.’ She took a breath. ‘I don’t know why I’m finding it so hard . . . Well, I do, I suppose . . . He’s not been having very much luck lately, so to land this on him when we can barely make ends meet as it is . . .’ She shrugged and almost spilled her tea. ‘I keep telling myself he’ll be all right about it, comforting and that, but he’s never been good with illness and if he thinks I’m going to stop pulling my weight . . .’ She glanced worriedly at Bel. ‘I’m not painting a very nice picture of him, am I, but he’s a good bloke really. I just . . . Well . . . I keep thinking if I could understand what it feels like to be on his side of things I’d know better how to handle it all.’

Bel was regarding her closely, her blue eyes both gentle and concerned.

‘Can I ask you,’ Josie went on hesitantly, ‘would you mind telling me what it was like when you found out your sister had cancer? I mean, did you feel as though it was your fault, that you’d let her down in some way; or angry because it was . . . well, inconvenient . . . No, I’m sure you didn’t feel that, but I read online that sometimes families don’t take it well, at least not at first . . .’ As her words ran out she had to lower her eyes from the intensity of Bel’s gaze.

‘I was with my sister when the surgeon confirmed she had cancer,’ Bel said, her voice quiet and steady. ‘Like you, she didn’t want her husband to know anything until she was sure there was something to know. Though I’d prepared myself for the worst, or thought I had, it still came as a terrible blow. I think the first thing I felt, apart from upset, of course, and afraid,
was
anger. Not because it was inconvenient, although it was, because how could it ever be convenient for anyone to have that dreaded disease, least of all a mother with two small children? No, I felt angry because she was the sweetest, kindest, most loving person I knew, who didn’t deserve to be diagnosed with any kind of illness, never mind one that was threatening her life. I was furious about it, but I didn’t know who to be furious with, the doctor, God, my father, I was ready to blame anyone and everyone. More than that, I desperately wanted to take it away from her and go through it myself, because
I
was the one who deserved it.’

Josie blinked in surprise, and the sudden fire seemed to dim in Bel’s eyes.

‘I won’t get into why I deserved it,’ Bel continued, ‘but I thought I did. I didn’t tell her that, or not at first, we talked about it later, but it was a long time later, and I think what you want to hear about is how it was when I first heard? How I coped with it myself, how we dealt with it as a family?’

Josie nodded and cleared her throat. ‘Actually, I’d like to hear anything you’re willing to tell me,’ she said. ‘There’s so much on the Internet about the cancer itself, forums you can join, helplines you can ring, all kinds of information which is fantastic, and I’m reading quite a bit of it, I just don’t want to talk to anyone about what’s happening to me. It’s enough that I’ve got it, I’m having it treated and like it or not I have to get on with it. What’s bothering me more is how it’s going to affect my husband, Jeff, and our children. I need to know if there’s anything I can do or say that will help them to deal with it in a way that won’t be too hard for them.’

Bel’s smile was tender. ‘You’re like my sister in that respect,’ she told her. ‘All Talia was interested in was caring for us and making sure we didn’t worry too much. Of course we did, how could we not when we loved her so much? Needless to say her children were the biggest concern, for all of us, but being so young made it slightly easier in a way, because they didn’t understand. For you, I can see why you’re so anxious, since your children are older. They’ll be afraid, of course they will, and so will your husband . . .’ She took a breath. ‘I’m sorry, that’s probably not what you want to hear.’