Out of Step (6 page)

‘Never knowingly without one,’ Nell said, straight-faced. They stared at one another, and then burst out laughing in unison. Nell thought: It’s a long time since I’ve felt in such complete accord with anyone.

‘Seriously,’ Rob said, ‘you’ve brought this bird here to cook, for us both?’

‘Well, they’re horrible raw,’ Nell said.

‘But that’s marvellous.’ Broad smile. ‘What’s this apple for?’

‘It’s part of the garnish for the chestnut soup, in that jar.’

‘And this?’

‘Bread sauce. And that’s some of my redcurrant jelly, and a packet of game-flavour crisps.’

‘And what’s in here?’

‘Wet cake.’

‘Sorry?’

‘My father’s name for trifle.’

‘Nice one. And is it also home-made?’

‘Naturally.’

‘Incredible,’ Rob said. ‘You’re amazing!’

There was no need to put the pheasant on to cook straight away. It wouldn’t take long, and anyway Rob said the stove needed to be stoked up first before the oven would be hot enough. When he suggested a short walk by the river, Nell was pleased in spite of the weather. It is always easier for a shy person to talk to a stranger on the move, without the confusion of enforced eye contact. Nell concealed her shyness well, but she always welcomed help. Rob fetched his binoculars and they went out together, walking side by side along the coast path and having to raise their voices to make themselves heard above the wind.

‘Have you had any good presents?’ she asked him.

‘Not really. My family don’t go in for such things.’

She waited for him to reciprocate, but when he didn’t she volunteered the information anyway. ‘I opened mine first thing. I can never wait. My best one was from Sibyl, my employer – though she’s a good friend too. We had some in the shop, and she saw me admiring one.’

‘One what?’

‘A rucksack-stool, so I can carry my painting gear
and
sit down when I get there. It’s brilliant.’

‘Neat idea. D’you like working in that shop?’

‘Love it. Why?’

‘You don’t get bored?’

‘Not often,’ Nell said defensively. ‘Do you?’

‘Good point. Yes, very often.’ He shrugged.

‘So, what would you rather do?’

‘Something environmental. Nature conservation perhaps? Unfortunately I did the wrong subjects at college.’

‘Why?’

‘Because my father was determined that I should have a steady dependable job as unlike his as possible.’ He turned away from her rather grimly. The subject was not to be pursued.

‘I got a brilliant present for Sibyl, although perhaps I shouldn’t boast,’ Nell said, conscious of chattering on, but continuing anyway. ‘You know those racks that go across baths to hold the soap and stuff? Well, this one has holders for two candles and a wineglass. Of course you have to know Sibyl to appreciate how perfect that is.’

The wind was full in their faces now, as they turned towards the sea. It made Nell’s eyes water, and her nose run. She was glad she hadn’t worn a dress, as Elly certainly would have done, but come instead in her beautiful rainbow cardigan, and her newest, smartest cords. But then Elly wouldn’t be out here at all in half a gale. Rob wouldn’t have dreamt of asking her. Nell couldn’t be sure whether this was good or bad.

‘Look!’ Rob pointed across to the other bank of the river. ‘A roe deer.’ He put the glasses up to his eyes. ‘Yes, it’s a buck. Want a look?’ Nell wiped her eyes on her sleeve and took them from him. She found it at once; a small greyish deer with a pronounced white bottom and little pointy horns. ‘Winter coat,’ Rob said. ‘In the summer they’re distinctly ginger, and that white patch all but disappears. Got it?’

‘Yes.’ The animal was beautifully camouflaged amongst the leafless grey trees.

‘That didn’t take you long.’ He sounded impressed.

‘Ah well, I’m very used to binoculars,’ Nell said. It felt like a major accomplishment.

They walked right down to the dunes on the east bank of the river. The sea was grey and sullen, with irritable white horses further out. Isolated clumps of marram grass were bent double and blew back and forth making semicircular tracks around their bases. On exposed faces the sand rose up in clouds and blasted everything in range. It was not the sort of day to linger, but Nell would happily have done so. She took out a hanky and blew her nose, then she stuffed it and her hands deep into her coat pockets and looked out to sea. A line of black ducks was flying low over the water to the west. Scoters probably, but she didn’t feel she knew Rob well enough to volunteer this. She looked at her watch, and reluctantly decided that it was time to return to the cottage and begin cooking.

‘Have you got any veg in the house?’ she asked.

‘Spuds, I think, and maybe some sprouts.’ He was scanning the waves. ‘There’s some sea ducks out there – scoters, I think.’

‘Yes. Shall we get back then?’

The kitchen, when they returned, was almost as hot as the oven. Nell stripped off the multicoloured cardigan and hung it carefully on a low hook amongst a jumble of other clothes. Then she began cooking.

Rob went out to chop and bring in firewood, whilst she got on with it, then sometime later, when the meal was all ready he sat opposite her and poured glasses of wine for them both, smiling at her in the confident way of one totally at ease with himself and pleased with life. I could stay all day, Nell thought, (and half the night!) but I won’t. I’ll leave at about threeish, so he’ll have time to miss me. I’ve no idea what the future holds, but I don’t want him
ever
to take me for granted – like Martin did.

She could tell that Rob had enjoyed the food
enormously. He said so. It was good to be appreciated. He was sorry she had to go now. That was good too.

‘It’s only half-past three,’ he protested.

‘Yes, but it will be getting dark soon.’ She put her coat on hurriedly before she could change her mind, collected the empty containers into her basket and made for the door.

‘Nell?’

‘Yes?’ He came over to her and took her face between his hands. They were firm and warm, and oddly comforting. She felt like a young animal about to be soothed. Then he bent his head and kissed her briefly, but very precisely on the mouth, and she felt anything but calm.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘That was so good.’

She got home without any awareness of having driven any distance at all, and then discovered she’d left her cardigan behind by mistake. She wasn’t at all surprised. In her experience, people who didn’t want to leave, nearly always ‘forgot’ something. She rang at once to make arrangements to retrieve it.

‘I’ll drop it into the shop next week,’ Rob offered. ‘What colour is it?’

‘Blue, green, brown, cream, purple, you name it!’ she said. She wondered fleetingly how he could not have
noticed
what colour it was. She had been wearing it for at least an hour when she’d first arrived, and it was hardly subtle!

But that was trivial, and she soon forgot it. She was happy.

Anna was agog to hear the whole story. ‘Why didn’t you stay the night?’ she asked, as they swam side by side down the pool doing breaststroke. ‘I would have!’

‘I’m not as impetuous as you, that’s why.’

‘But you do fancy him?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘And he is getting divorced?’

‘Yes.’

‘But he’s got two children?’

‘Yes. I haven’t actually met them, but Elly says they’re not shy.’

‘Elly?’

‘My oldest friend, Eleanor, from schooldays. She lives in London now, but we’re always on the phone.’

‘And you’re an Eleanor too?’

‘It’s a pretty common name these days, isn’t it? Anyway, the children are only three and five, poor little things.’ They reached the end of the pool and stopped for a breather.

‘Well, when he introduces them to you,’ Anna said, ‘you’ll know.’

‘Know what?’

‘That he’s serious, of course! It’s the equivalent of being taken home to meet the parents, but small children are much harder to impress.’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ Nell said. ‘I’ve never had much to do with any.’

‘You’re an only child?’

‘Yes.’

‘Me too, and I’m never going to have any kids!’

‘But you’re a teacher?’

‘Yes, and that’s quite enough contact for anyone.’

‘It must be odd to take on someone else’s children,’ Nell said thoughtfully. ‘Somehow I could never see myself as a wicked stepmother.’

‘Huh!’ Anna snorted. ‘Don’t talk to me about wicked stepmothers. I’ve got one!’ And she launched herself into a fast crawl.

When Nell caught up with her again, she asked, ‘Why is she wicked?’

‘God knows. It seems to come naturally.’

‘No, I meant, what does she do?’

‘It’s what she
did
. My mother had only been dead six months, and I was still in shock. I was five. And what did she do? She only moved in and chucked all my mother’s things away – gave her clothes to Oxfam, sold her jewellery, had the whole house redecorated, even burnt her bed! Looking back, it was as though she was trying to blot out all traces of her memory from our lives. It was unbelievable!’

‘How could she be so callous?’ Nell was horrified.

‘Because she wanted
all
of my father, every last bit. She didn’t want any history. I think if she’d been able to, she would have thrown me onto the bonfire too, like Guy Fawkes.’

‘But what about your father? Why didn’t he stand up for you?’

‘Oh, he was besotted with her. I don’t think he even noticed what she was doing. My mother had been ill for a long time, you see, and I’m pretty sure they’d never got on that well. So when she died, I suppose he felt released. He couldn’t wait to make up for lost time.’

‘But wasn’t he fond of you?’

‘No, I was just an inconvenient leftover from a difficult relationship with a long-term invalid, and he
loved
my
stepmother, you see, so that made everything all right.’

‘Poor you,’ Nell said, reaching out and touching her shoulder.

‘Yes, well,’ Anna said awkwardly. ‘Now you see why I’m very suspicious of “love” in any shape or form.’

‘But she must be a one-off surely? All stepparents aren’t like her. It must work out well sometimes.’

‘Not often. But I suppose if I’m fair to the bloody woman – or at least as fair as I can be – it is an impossible position to find yourself in. You can never win. You’re always in the wrong, and you can never be a substitute for the real parent. It’s not a situation to go into lightly.’

‘Good thing I’m not contemplating it then,’ Nell smiled.

‘Oh yeah?’ Anna raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘D’you know what I really like about you, Nell?’

‘What?’

Anna held on to the edge, poised. ‘How can I phrase this? I know – you’re about as Sphinx-like as a pikestaff!’ And with that, she sank into a triumphant backstroke.

Paul Tozer prided himself on his inscrutability. He was pretty sure that few would realise how frustrated he had been feeling of late. He’d had very little opportunity to do any of the things he’d really wanted to for weeks; one in particular. The autumn term had been a constant struggle with inadequate funds, his best teachers pushing for early retirement, and constant timetable wars. And now he was nearly halfway through the Christmas holidays, and he still hadn’t had time to get things rolling.

He waited until Elly had taken the two boys for their swimming lesson, and then made a series of useful phone calls. It only took him a couple of hours to track down exactly what he wanted. He sat back in his leather, gas-lifted, executive office chair, with his hands behind his broad neck, well pleased with his own efficiency. Of
course his wife wouldn’t see it his way at all. She never did. He’d wait to tell her until she was in a noncombative mood. Some people are never happy, he thought to himself sourly, Elly in particular. I’ve thought up this brilliant plan to accommodate everyone in the family (at considerable expense), but just wait for her to rubbish it all…

‘I’m thinking of moving the boat,’ he announced the next morning at breakfast. ‘The Hamble is getting much too expensive and far too crowded.’

‘Oh yes?’ Elly was stirring porridge with her back to him. Their two young sons, Will and Sam, were upstairs in Will’s room, watching television.

‘Well, don’t you want to know what I’ve got in mind?’

‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.’

‘Look, Elly, I’m doing this for your sake. You could at least pretend to show a little interest.’

‘Since when has anything to do with the boat been of any interest to me?’

‘If you’ll just listen, you’ll find out. Now, Boxcombe isn’t far from the River Torrent, yes? And near the mouth of the estuary there’s an excellent sailing club. But better still, I’ve discovered there’s an empty quay further up river belonging to Thrushton Hall, you know, that lovely H-shaped Georgian house where Lord Pel –’

‘Yes, yes. Get on with it. I was brought up around there.’

‘Well, that’s the whole point. It turns out that I’ve recently met a friend of his, and he might be able to swing it for me to keep the boat there.’

‘You’re surely not going to move your precious boat to the West Country?’

‘Just listen, will you? There’s more to it. On the other side of the river from Thrushton Quay, there are half a dozen houseboats and …’

‘House…?’

Paul silenced her with an impatient gesture.’… and so I reckon this could be the perfect answer. You could stay on the houseboat when I’m sailing mine, and maybe spend more time with your ma – and Nell, come to that – and the boys could please themselves either way, so everyone’s happy.’ Fat chance of that, but it sounded confidently benevolent.

‘It’s a long way from London.’

‘Not with the new bit of dual carriageway. I can do it in three hours, no sweat.’

‘So, what’s the catch?’

Why is she so bloody predictable? he thought. ‘Do you always have to be so flaming
negative?’
he demanded.

‘Maybe it has something to do with eight years of marriage to you.’ Elly stretched her mouth sardonically. ‘But … now I think about it… I suppose it could be a good idea. Sibyl would be delighted, and I’d love to see more of Nell. And it would be great to have proper family holidays for a change… Yes, OK, I like it. So what’s come over you? Why this sudden transformation into model husband?’