Thicker Than Water

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PART I – ABIGAIL

One

It was the timing that was so damnable, James thought, as he took a corner rather too fast. Sylvie was bound to be hurt, and he regretted that, but the truth was that though they’d known each other since schooldays, he’d never imagined himself in love with her. Basically, she was his sister’s friend, an attractive, intelligent girl whose company he enjoyed, and who was useful for making up foursomes.

Not quite fair, he conceded, negotiating another bend; it had been more than that. He’d known for years that she was in love with him, and on more than one occasion had taken advantage of the fact; but when friends began to link their names seriously, he’d panicked and taken a two-year assignment in the States. Over there, there’d been girls aplenty, God knew, but none that had lit sparks inside him, and by the time he returned, he’d decided to settle for Sylvie. He was in his mid-thirties, most of his friends were married, and he wanted a home and family of his own – a home and family like Tina’s.

Not everyone, he’d told himself, was lucky enough to experience the kind of love vaunted in fiction, and he knew of friends who, having married in the heat of passion, lived to regret it. Affection and companionship weren’t a bad base to build on, and who knew, in time love might grow. In the meanwhile, he and Sylvie had several shared interests – jazz, travel, the theatre, and – importantly – were good together in bed. He knew, without vanity, that he could make her happy.

So three months ago, shortly after his return from the States, they had become engaged, to the delight of both families. No date had been set for the wedding, though when he tentatively suggested the spring, he’d sensed her disappointment. Admittedly there was no reason to delay, since they’d be living in his flat, which he’d no intention of leaving. It overlooked the square of a small Cotswold town, and he enjoyed being at the centre of things, with the weekly market only steps from his door. It was also equidistant from his parents’ home and that of his sister and her family, both of which he visited on a regular basis. He was, in fact, on his way to Tina’s now, and, for the first time, with mixed feelings.

Because, after all his philosophizing, his concluding that
le grand amour
was not for him, it had sprung upon him out of nowhere, devastating, annihilating, all-consuming, rendering him helpless under its onslaught.

And he’d have to tell them. There was no way he could keep this life-changing news to himself, though he knew with sinking heart that their reaction – Tina’s and Ben’s – would not be the one he hoped for. How, in the circumstances, could he expect it to be?

Ben Rivers walked into the large, steamy kitchen and kissed the back of his wife’s neck.

‘Something smells good.’

‘James is coming to supper.’

‘Ah. So he’s back from his stint in London.’

‘He rang at lunchtime, asking if he could scrounge a meal. After five days away, his larder is bare.’

‘I’m surprised he didn’t phone Sylvie.’

Tina shrugged. ‘He’ll be exhausted after the course, and only fit for slobbing out with us.’

‘I’d hardly call boeuf bourguignon slobbing,’ Ben said mildly.

‘You know what I mean. He enjoys his weekly visits, bedding down with the family and hearing all the gossip.’

‘He’ll be staying the night, then?’

‘I was speaking figuratively, but it’ll depend on how much he drinks. He knows there’s always a bed for him.’

She stirred the pan and lifted the spoon to her lips. ‘I’m just glad his engagement hasn’t put a stop to his visits,’ she added, reaching for the salt.

‘His marriage will.’

‘They can both come.’

Ben poured two glasses of wine and placed one on the counter beside the cooker. ‘Where are the kids?’

‘Charlie’s at football practice and Lily’s supposed to be revising, though she’s probably mooning about listening to her i-pod.’

Ben leant against the table, sipping his wine. ‘I saw Freddie Hargreaves at lunch. He suggested a game of golf on Sunday.’

‘We’re lunching with the parents. Had you forgotten?’

‘Damn it, I had, yes. Perhaps he could make tomorrow instead.’

The back door swung back on its hinges as their son burst into the room.

‘What’s for supper?’ he demanded, sniffing appreciatively.

‘Good evening, Mama and Papa. I hope I find you well.’

Ben’s wife and son ignored him. ‘Burgundy beef,’ Tina replied. ‘Did you put your bike away?’

‘It’s in the porch.’

‘Then put it in the shed, please. James is coming for supper, and I don’t want him breaking a leg over it.’ As they lived in a converted farmhouse, the back door was the accepted means of family access.

Charlie paused by the table to help himself to a slice of French bread, and chewed it reflectively. ‘Old Smithers says I might make the team next term.’

‘Excellent. Now, bike!’

Grumblingly, he went out again, and through the open back door came the sound of tyres on gravel. James had arrived.

The meal was over, the children had gone to bed, but the three adults remained comfortably round the table, the second bottle of wine open in front of them.

Tina refilled her brother’s glass. ‘You’re very quiet, Jimbo. Was the course pretty gruelling?’

He stirred, raising his eyes from the spoon he’d been turning in his fingers.

‘No more than usual.’

James worked for an international IT firm who, a few years ago, had followed the trend to decentralize, and, to his delight, relocated to Cheltenham, a mere ten miles from home. It was then he’d bought his flat, and rejoiced in the drive to work along country roads instead of the traffic-jammed capital.

‘Something on your mind, then?’ Ben suggested.

‘You could say that.’

Tina put a hand on her brother’s. ‘We’re listening.’

He’d been planning this speech all day, but now the carefully chosen words deserted him, and he said simply, ‘I’ve fallen in love.’

Tina and Ben stared at him for a minute, then Tina gave an uncertain laugh. ‘Well, we know that! You’re engaged, for heaven’s sake!’

‘Not Sylvie. I’ve met someone else.’

Tina frowned and withdrew her hand. ‘You can’t have! You’ve only been away five days!’

James forced a smile. ‘“Twenty-four hours from Tulsa,”’ he said.

Ben leaned forward. ‘You’re not serious, surely?’

‘Never more so.’

‘But – who is she? And what about Sylvie?’

‘We met my first night away, and it was like being hit with a sledgehammer. I
knew
– I just
knew
, immediately.
Coup de foudre
, don’t they call it? I’ve never believed in it.’

Tina’s frown deepened. ‘And Sylvie?’

James looked at her wretchedly. ‘I know; why couldn’t this have happened before we got engaged? But Tina, I’ve never been
in love
with her. You must know that. I’m fond of her and always have been – but it doesn’t come within a thousand miles of how I feel about Abigail.’

‘And that’s some kind of excuse?’

He didn’t reply, and Ben said coolly, ‘So who is this Abigail? How did you meet her?’

‘She was staying at the same hotel, attending an interior design course. God, Ben, she’s fantastic! Gorgeous looking – almost as tall as I am, with the most amazing green eyes.’

Tina said brutally, ‘And you fell in lust with her.’

James passed a hand over his face. ‘I can’t explain it. I hoped you’d try to understand.’

‘How
can
I, when you leave home a happily engaged man, and come back five days later, raving about another woman? God, James, you don’t
know
her! How can you, in less than a week, the best part of which you spent on your respective courses?’

‘I can’t explain,’ he repeated helplessly.

‘So apart from looking like Julia Roberts, what do you actually know about her?’

‘Well, she’s a couple of years younger than me, and, as I said, an interior designer. She has a flat in Pimlico.’

‘But what’s her background?’ Tina broke in. ‘Parents? Brothers and sisters?’

‘She didn’t mention them.’

Tina looked at him despairingly. ‘Been married before? Children?’

‘No, no, nothing like that.’

‘As far as you know,’ she qualified darkly, ‘which doesn’t seem to be much. So you meet this mysterious woman, and in the space of a few days convince yourself you love her, and are prepared to jettison Sylvie, who’s loved you for years? Get real, James! You’re back home now.’

He said stolidly, ‘She’s coming for the weekend. I’d like you to meet her.’

Tina pushed her chair back and stood up abruptly. ‘Well, I’ve not the slightest intention of doing so.
You
might be ready to betray Sylvie, but I’m not.’

And as her eyes filled with angry tears, she hurried from the room. The two men looked at each other.

‘Ben?’

‘I have to say I’m with Tina on this. Sorry, James.’

All he had wanted was to slink home, tail between his legs, and lick his wounds in private. He knew that for the moment he wasn’t welcome, but he’d had too much wine to risk the twisting country lanes. He’d make damn sure, though, that he left before anyone was up.

As was to be expected, he didn’t sleep well. The dinner table conversation revolved endlessly in his head, and he cursed himself for not having expressed himself better. Yet how could they understand, when they’d never had so much as a hitch in their own relationship? Ben and Tina had married straight from university; Lily was born within a year, Charlie twenty months later, and all four of them had lived happily ever after. Well, he thought resentfully, they should be bloody grateful.

Lying in the familiar bed, with the moving curtains allowing intermittent shafts of moonlight, he accepted that the next day would be no less fraught. Hopefully, Tina would tell the parents, thereby sparing him their initial shock, but he owed it to Sylvie to break the news in person, a prospect he was dreading. After which, he must clean the flat and buy-in supplies for Abigail’s visit. And as her name flooded his mind, he turned with a groan and buried his face in his pillow. Yes, it would be a rough ride with Sylvie and the family, but he could face anything, so long as he had Abigail.

There was a perfunctory tap on the door and Sylvie came in, closed it behind her and leaned against it. Tina turned from the sink, and across the suddenly still room the two women looked at each other. Sylvie’s face was white, seeming to make her eyes larger and darker.

‘Tell me this hasn’t happened,’ she said.

Tina made an instinctive move, but halted as Sylvie held up a warning hand. ‘I’ll put the coffee on,’ she said, realizing that overt sympathy would undermine her friend’s control.

Sylvie seated herself at the kitchen table. ‘When did you hear?’ she asked, almost conversationally.

‘Last night. He came for supper. Sylvie—’

‘I was in the bath,’ Sylvie broke in. ‘Grace answered the door, and called to me that James was in the living room. It was an enormous relief; he hadn’t picked up on his mobile all week. I just grabbed a bathrobe and ran through, leaving wet footprints on the carpet.’

‘He must have gone to you straight from here,’ Tina said, spooning coffee into the cafetière. ‘He’d left by the time we came down, and there was a note on the table saying simply “Sorry”.’

‘What exactly did he tell you?’

‘That he’d met this woman his first night in London, and apparently been bowled over. Sylvie, I just can’t believe it. It’s an obsession – it has to be. He’ll get over it.’

‘The question is, when? And though
we
might not believe it, James certainly does, which is what counts. Perhaps I should have seen this coming. He’s all I’ve ever wanted – you know that – ever since he took me to my first dance, with you and Ben. But I was the one who made the running, and eventually he fled to the States to escape me.’