New beginnings by the su.., p.12
New Beginnings by the Sunflower Cliffs, page 12
Checking the back of the drawer, her fingers touched something. Bea took out several small envelopes she vaguely recognised. She read the childish scrawl on the front of each one and breathed in the faint scent of her aunt’s perfume. Reading one of the letters she’d sent to her aunt from boarding school, Bea was instantly transported back to the misery she’d experienced being away from everything familiar to her.
She carefully replaced the invoices and letters and checked the other drawers. Nothing. Wondering if her aunt had maybe filed something away about the legacy, she spent the following two hours carefully working her way through the dusty lever arch files on the bookcase.
Bea had scoured every inch of the study, but apart from her old letters and a few heartfelt ones from Antonio, she’d found only paperwork relating to the garden. She remembered standing in here with her aunt many times over the years, with Annabel proudly showing her designs that she’d won prizes for at flower shows. She’d even discovered several of her school photos and a certificate for coming second in a painting competition, but nothing that could possibly relate to the Jersey Kiss.
In the garden, Bea pushed an orange plastic wheelbarrow half-filled with weeds and dead wood. As she walked to the compost heap, she concluded that she was perfectly happy without a man in her life. She just needed not to lose this house.
Paul had a partner and Shani would no doubt work things out with Harry – or find someone to take his place. She needed to persuade Mr Peters at their meeting that she deserved the loan, buy Simon out of his share of The Brae and take back some sort of control of her life. The thought cheered her up.
A couple of hours later, Bea had worked her way through several flower beds, noticing that she needed to plant more thyme for next year. Never enough thyme, she mused. She’d cleared her head a little and worked through her dilemma about the men in her life. She showered and changed, tying her damp hair up in a scrunchie, and then padded through to the kitchen in her worn bunny slippers to make a desperately needed mug of coffee and read through the papers. It helped to immerse herself in other people’s chaos as she skimmed the gossip columns.
‘It’s only us,’ Mel shouted from the hallway. ‘The front door was unlocked, so we’ve invited ourselves in.’ Bea’s heart sank several levels; she knew that tone. It was her sister’s organising over-the-top-cheerful one. Not what you needed at any time, but especially not on a rare chill-out day. Had she forgotten their conversation the previous night?
‘Through here,’ Bea answered, willing herself to sound welcoming.
‘Hi, hon,’ said Shani, pulling a face from behind Mel’s back. ‘Mel and I were talking about the wedding and I just knew you would hate to be left out.’
Cow, mouthed Bea, unable to help smiling at her ‘disloyal’ friend. Shani winked back slyly, as Mel busied herself making a cup of herbal tea.
‘Right, listen to me, ladies,’ started Mel. ‘I’ve had an idea.’ Bea suppressed an anguished groan. ‘I didn’t initially want to have any bridesmaids, but I think I’d like to have them now. I don’t want to have to choose between my friends – you know how sensitive people can be – so I thought you two would be perfect. My sister, who everyone will expect, and you, Shani. You’re both so opposite to look at and different to me, we’ll look great in the photos. Isn’t it perfect?’
Bea shot a rabbit-caught-in-headlights glance at Shani, who gave her a knowing look.
‘Well? What do you think?’ Mel asked excitedly, arms held out. ‘Think of all the fun we can have. Getting dressed together, our hair and make-up, manicures. What could be more fun?’
Struggling for an acceptable answer, Bea racked her brains. ‘Um, yes,’ she answered lamely. ‘Although…’
‘Although?’ Mel’s lengthy French-polished extensions tapped a rapid chorus on the pine table.
The embryo of an idea was rattling around Bea’s addled brain and she forced herself to pursue it. She knew she had to make her excuses now, or go along with the horrible bridesmaid idea for the next few months. If she didn’t come up with a suitable alternative, photos of her and Shani in peach crinoline dresses or some other hideous creation would forever haunt them. ‘What about Grant’s nieces?’
‘Who?’ Mel asked, eyes lighting up.
‘His sister’s twins,’ agreed Shani, immediately making the most of Bea’s brilliant idea, relief flowing across her face. ‘Yes, your soon-to-be nieces, you must think of them at a time like this. They’ll be devastated not to be included in your special day.’
Bea nodded enthusiastically, knowing the little girls would probably be delighted, and even if they weren’t, thought Bea, there are times when adults must pull rank, and this was one of them.
‘What about them? I presumed you would be having them, to be honest,’ enthused Bea, running with the idea now that Mel hadn’t immediately rejected it. ‘They can walk ahead of you down the aisle, scattering rose petals from a tiny wicker basket, or something.’
Mel looked suspiciously from one to the other and thought through the suggestion. ‘What, as well as you two, or instead of?’
‘I think two are probably enough, so just the little ones.’
Mel thought about it briefly and Bea had to hold back a sigh of relief when her sister’s face slowly broke into a broad grin. ‘Of course, why didn’t I think of it? It’s a great way to score points with his mum.’ She clapped her hands together gleefully. ‘Clever girl.’
‘That’s what Shani and I are here for, to help you plan your day as perfectly as possible.’ Bea smiled, enormously relieved that her idea had been so eagerly accepted.
‘But what about you two?’ Mel added, her face filled with concern. ‘What will you do on the day if you’re not going to be my bridesmaids?’
Shani folded her arms across her chest. ‘I can help with organising the setting up of the marquee or whatever else you may need me to do.’
‘Yes, are you still going to have it at your mum and dad’s? You’re more than welcome to have it here if you want, you know?’ offered Bea, crossing her fingers behind her back.
‘Thanks, but this is your house, where you and your aunt have memories. My childhood was spent at home with Mum and Dad, and anyway Dad’s already drawn up a plan of the layout and matting leading from the driveway to the inside.’
Bea remembered how hurt her aunt was at Simon’s insistence that they hold their wedding reception at a hotel instead of in The Brea’s garden. She’d never forgiven herself for giving in to him on that. ‘Whatever you want; it’s your day, after all.’
‘Great idea,’ Shani said oblivious to the tension. ‘I’ve always envied you being able to walk from the end of your parent’s garden straight onto the beach.’
Mel smiled. ‘To make the most of the view there’ll be one of those marquees with windows all along the side of the sea view. And he said that if the weather is good they’ll roll up the side so we’re almost holding the reception in the garden.’
Bea said thoughtfully, ‘I can arrange flowers and the table settings can be put together from the plants here. Or I can do something different.’
‘You can both start by helping compile a list of who to invite. I’m scared of missing someone. I must make sure I don’t forget anyone who might buy one of the expensive items I intend to have on my wedding lists.’ Noticing Shani’s frown, she added pointedly, ‘There will be cheaper items, too for the tighter guests.’
‘How rude,’ Shani teased. ‘Just don’t forget any great aunt Ethel, or you’ll never be forgiven.’
‘I do have one problem,’ frowned Mel.
‘What?’ Shani asked.
‘Not what, but whom.’
‘Well, whom then?’
‘I need to invite Luke and Leilani,’ she said tentatively, looking from one to the other.
‘What? Why?’ Shani argued, ignoring Bea’s frantic mouthing to shut up as she didn’t need another interrogation from Mel.
‘I have to, he’s an old friend of Grant’s.’
‘Take no notice,’ Bea interrupted. ‘Of course you must invite him.’
‘And I’ll invite Tom for you, although I’ve no idea who can accompany you, Shani. After all, Paul’s now with Guy and Harry never seems to be around, so you’ll be by yourself once again. I could try and find another of Grant’s friends to act as escort for you, if you’d like?’
‘Don’t you dare.’ Shani glared down at Mel from her lofty height.
‘Surely Harry will be coming with you?’ Bea asked. ‘And I’m sure Tom will want to come, so he can be my plus one.’ She’d rather Tom be her partner than some stranger Mel might find.
‘I didn’t think you two were dating again?’
‘We’re not,’ Bea said. ‘We do work together though, and if you want me to have a partner I’m sure he’ll step in. I’m not bothered either way.’
Shani crossed her eyes and pulled a face, making Bea giggle. Bea knew the arrangements could only get more complicated and that there would be further rows between now and the big day. She needed to keep these chats with Mel as light as possible to be able to face them.
‘Well, if you two aren’t going to be my bridesmaids, and I’m to only have the twins, then I think I’ll ask Leilani to be my chief bridesmaid,’ Mel suggested. ‘I think I need to add a little extra touch of glamour to the occasion, don’t you?’
There was a sharp intake of breath from Shani. ‘Are you completely mad? You can’t ask her.’
‘Why not? She’d look fantastic and could watch over the twins.’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous, she probably hates kids.’
Bea rolled her eyes. ‘Whether she does or she doesn’t like kids, she’s a model, Mel, not a nanny.’
‘I know that.’
A thought occurred to Bea. ‘You might be pretty, Mel, but would you really want a professional model walking down the aisle with you? What if she upstages you on your big day?’
‘Which she bloody well will,’ Shani insisted, glaring across the table in disbelief.
Mel sniggered. ‘Honestly, you two are so easy to wind up sometimes.’
Bea and Shani shook their heads at each other. ‘Is this going to take much longer?’ Bea asked, forgetting her plan to keep things light.
Mel looked at her watch. ‘I’m going home to change. I’m meeting Grant later, so I’ll leave you two in peace. Oh, and Bea, I haven’t forgotten what we discussed last night. I’ll get back to you as soon as I find out any info.’
Bea thanked her and saw her out, relieved to have peace restored once again. ‘She can be so exhausting at times,’ she said to Shani later, as they sat quietly together in the snug watching an episode of her favourite soap opera.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ Shani said. ‘If you need help paying off that mortgage.’
‘The one I haven’t got yet?’
Shani nodded. ‘Yes, that one. Well, I thought I could move in here with you and pay you rent?’
Bea was confused by her friend’s offer. ‘I’d love that, but what about Paul? Wouldn’t he miss you?’
‘I doubt it. He seems to be spending most of his time at Guy’s flat at the moment, so he’d probably be relieved.’
Bea loved the idea. ‘It’ll be just like when we were kids at boarding school.’ But even though the extra money from Shani was better than nothing, it still wouldn’t be nearly enough to help sort out her finances.
‘I can’t believe how miserly Simon is being with you.’
‘I think it’s probably because I’m insisting on keeping this house and going against his wishes,’ Bea said, staring at the dancing flames in the nearby fire. ‘But I’ve had enough of doing what he dictates, and this time, I’m going to do whatever I can to keep my house, whether Simon likes the idea or not.’
12
DECEMBER – TWISTED VINES
Simon arrived at the house a few days later. Bea had just ended a call with the bank, arranging a meeting in the new year with Mr Peters to discuss her mortgage application, but her relief at having a definite appointment was short-lived. She stood on her doorstep, glowering at Simon as he removed an envelope from his briefcase and handed it to her. ‘I’m running out of patience with this nonsense, Bea. I know you’ve tried at a couple of banks, but you’ll just have to rethink things or agree to sell this dump. Why you even care about this garden now Annabel is dead, I’ve no idea. You don’t even know that much about gardening.’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to understand.’
He went to place a hand on her shoulder, but she stepped back. His hand fell. ‘I didn’t mean for all this to happen, you know?’
Bea folded her arms, creasing the envelope in her hand. ‘No?’
‘Of course not. If your aunt hadn’t said anything about seeing me with Claire that night, then we’d probably still be together.’
‘So it’s her fault? That’s rubbish, Simon, and you know it.’
He marched to his car and turned to her before getting inside. ‘Fine, but we don’t have to be angry with each other all the time.’
She took a deep breath. ‘We wouldn’t be if you weren’t so dead set on forcing me to sell this house.’ Without waiting for his reply, she went back into the house, slamming the front door.
She tore open the envelope and unfolded his letter with shaking hands.
Claire’s due date is only a month away now and I need money to buy the furniture we need to complete the apartment before then. I think I’ve been more than fair with you, Beatrice. The sooner this matter is finalised the sooner we can both move on with our lives. Simon.
‘Moron,’ she shouted, as a thin layer of plaster dust fell onto the paper. It was time to contact Mel and ask her to sort out the injunction. She wouldn’t put up with his unwanted visits any more. She phoned Mel and told her to go ahead and draft something. Enough was enough.
‘It’s about time,’ Mel said. ‘Don’t hold back from sending it to him, either. He needs to be put in his place.’
Bea agreed.
That evening she sat in the drawing room, carefully turning the tatty pages of her aunt’s notebooks trying to absorb some of her gardening tips and work out if the sketches inside related to any of the plants she recognised. It was only five months until D-Day and she still had no idea what she was going to do.
The phone rang. Bea thought about ignoring it, but when the shrill ringing continued she got up and answered it. ‘Hello?’ Bea said, trying not to show her irritation at being disturbed.
‘Hi,’ said Tom. ‘Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could pop round for a chat this evening.’ She didn’t answer. ‘If that’s not a problem, I mean?’
She wasn’t in the mood to see anyone after Simon’s appearance, but it wasn’t Tom’s fault she’d chosen to marry the idiot. ‘All right, Tom, if you want,’ she relented.
‘Great. I’ll see you within the hour.’
‘Look, I’m not in the best frame of mind, and if it’s all right with you I was looking forward to an early night.’
‘Why, what’s the matter?’
‘Nothing new, I’m afraid.’ She couldn’t be bothered repeating what had happened with Simon.
‘Bea, I can tell you’re worried about something. Is there anything I can do?’
‘Thanks, Tom, but there isn’t,’ she said miserably, sitting back down again and taking up her cup of coffee before reconsidering and relating her earlier conversation with Simon. ‘I just have to deal with it. It’s tough, but life stinks sometimes. I can do without further legal fees though and will have to delay some of the work on the house, yet again, to pay for it, but I can’t have him coming here whenever the mood takes him.’
Tom sighed. ‘Sorry, Bea, I can imagine how you must feel. I’ll leave you to your early night, but if there’s anything I can do, promise you’ll ring me.’
‘I will,’ she said. ‘I’ll speak to you soon.’
After he had ended the call, Bea wondered what he’d wanted to talk about that couldn’t be discussed at the office. It mustn’t have been that important, or he would have insisted on coming round, she decided. She looked over to the corner of the room where her aunt always placed the Christmas tree, sad that it just didn’t feel like Christmas this year.
She picked up the notebooks again and pulled her legs up onto the settee to get comfortable. If only she could block out the rest of the world and be left alone with her memories. She closed her eyes and rested her head against one of the worn velvet cushions. Shutting out everything was so tempting. She snuggled up and let her mind wander back to happier days when she and Simon had had so many plans. Aunt Annabel singing tunelessly in the potting shed pushed the image of her and Simon away, and Bea couldn’t help smiling. Her aunt looked up at her standing at the doorway. ‘There you are, darling,’ she said. ‘Be a good girl and stop wallowing. Go and fight for what you want.’
Bea opened her eyes and sat up. Glancing around the room to check her aunt wasn’t somewhere near, she rubbed her eyes. ‘She’s right, I need to get a grip and stop feeling so miserable.’
Over supper at Shani and Paul’s flat the following evening, Bea pondered how they managed to work together and live in such a small space rarely falling out.
The attic flat, originally Paul’s and his previous boyfriend David’s, was bright and inviting. The small lounge somehow appeared bigger, with a two-seater cream settee and matching armchair taking up the floor space and a plain oak sideboard along one wall. She couldn’t imagine how Paul managed to cook in the tiny kitchenette. It didn’t seem much larger than most wardrobes. Paul pushed back the veil of tiny, coloured glass beads hanging from the doorframe and handed Bea a glass of wine.
