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Ignoring her, he went over to the drawer where his mother kept the clean hand-towels. He pulled one out and dried his hands roughly, and still with his back to Maxine, hunted through his pockets for something to blow his nose on.
'Here, try this.'
He turned round; Maxine was holding out some kitchen roll towards him. He took it but was careful not to look at her. 'Thanks,' he muttered. 'Sorry to let the side down. You never did like seeing me when I was upset, did you? In your eyes men should behave like real men. As your father did.' His tone was bitter.
'As usual, your biting cynicism isn't far from the truth.'
'And?'
She shrugged wearily, and once again he realised how changed she was. There was little evidence of the determined and ambitious Maxine in her face. She looked haggard, thoroughly defeated.
'I'm sorry,' he said, 'old habits die hard. I keep having a go at you, and I shouldn't. Not now when we're going through - '
She raised her hands. 'No, please, don't say any more.' She looked terrified that he might offer her sympathy.
It upset him to think how divided and entrenched they'd become. How could they have created a beautiful child like Suzie, only to end up hating each other? Surely, for Suzie's sake, they could learn to be kinder to one another. Couldn't they? Emboldened, he decided to test the water. 'Maxine,' he said softly, 'do you think it's possible that we - ?'
But once again, she cut him off. 'If you're tired of washing, I'll take over and you can dry.'
Taking his cue, he thought better of what he'd nearly said. Perhaps it was hopeless anyway. They'd probably left it too late.
Chapter Fifty-Five.
It had rained steadily over Christmas, but the day after Boxing Day, the sky suddenly brightened, and seeing as she was off work until January, Harriet phoned the estate agent to ask if she could borrow the key to number one Lock Cottage to do some measuring. She wanted to make sure there wouldn't be any last-minute surprises, such as discovering her bed wouldn't fit up the stairs.
The biggest surprise of the move so far was how much Carrie was looking forward to it. To Harriet's amazement her niece spoke of little else and was constantly on at Harriet about when she could invite her new friends to see the cottage and when they could have their first sleepover. Harriet viewed this enthusiasm with a mixture of relief and horror; it was good that Carrie had now made friends at school, but the thought of having to entertain them on a regular basis scared her rigid.
As was to be expected, Joel was more reticent about the move. Harriet had lost count how many times he had asked her how he would get home from school. It was as if he had a mental block on the subject. His anxiety was contagious and whenever Harriet found herself beginning to worry too much about her nephew, she reminded herself of something Will had once told her; that as soon as Joel had made a special friend at school, everything would come together for him and he'd feel more settled and secure. Will had been right on so many other matters when it came to the children, she hoped he was right on this one. It really mattered to her that Joel was happy. He wasn't a strong, resilient child the way Carrie was; he was quiet and sensitive and too p.r.o.ne to introversion. He was entirely his father's child, Harriet had come to realise.
Harriet had seen Will only twice during the Christmas period, and that was when he came and went from his house. Mum had wanted to invite him over for a drink, but Harriet had begged her not to. Seeing Will floundering over a gla.s.s of wine and a flaky cheese straw in their sitting room would have been too much. 'It's far too soon to expect him to be sociable,' she'd told Eileen.
'I'm not expecting him to be sociable,' her mother had said, 'but it seems wrong to leave him out in the cold, as though we don't care.'
'He knows we care, Mum. Just leave him be until New Year.'
Their own Christmas had, of course, been overshadowed by Felicity and Jeff's absence, and Harriet knew that at times her parents had struggled to keep a brave face on the proceedings. It was particularly palpable when it came to the children opening their presents. Felicity had had a rule with Carrie and Joel that they could have their stockings as soon as they were awake, but the rest of the presents had to be kept until after lunch. Eileen had decided to stick with this tradition, but when the children were sitting expectantly round the tree, their hands itching to root out something with their name on it, Harriet's father had left the room abruptly.
'It was their faces,' he told Harriet later, when he was helping her to make some ham sandwiches for tea. 'There was such joy and excitement in their expressions. And poor Felicity not here to see it. It's so b.l.o.o.d.y unfair. It's like they've forgotten her already, as though she never mattered to them.'
'They'll never forget their mother,' Harriet had said, quick to defend her niece and nephew. 'They're just adapting faster than us. Perhaps we should take a leaf out of their book.'
These had been almost the only words exchanged between Harriet and her father since she had learned of his double life, and she could muster up little sympathy for him. Mum had said she mustn't judge him too harshly, that his behaviour was a reflection of the depth of his grief, but it simply wasn't in her to offer him any consolation. The rest of them were coping; why couldn't he?
The children had wanted to come and help her measure up at the house, and just as they were climbing into the back of her car, a voice had Harriet turning round. She hadn't seen either Miles or Dominic since the evening at Novel Ways, but here was Dominic coming towards her. 'Just the person I wanted to see,' he said. 'Are you on your way out or coming back?'
'Going out.'
'Anywhere interesting?'
'Yes, my new house.'
'Excellent. I'll come with you.'
She moved away from the car so that the children couldn't hear her. 'Firstly,' she said, 'you're not coming anywhere with me until you've apologised. Secondly, who says I want you to see my new house?'
He raised his eyebrows. 'Good G.o.d, Harriet, you're quite magnificent when you're angry. It's enough to make a gay man straight! Here, let me kiss you to see if you're the answer every fundamentalist Christian out there has been praying for.'
He put his gloved hands on her shoulders but she pushed him away roughly. 'Don't even think about it.'
'Ah, not even a little kiss? It is the season of good will, after all. Besides, I'm told my technique is something to behold.'
'Well hold onto it yourself; I'm not interested. So how about that apology?'
'It would help if I knew what it was I'm supposed to be sorry about. Remind me what heinous crime I've committed. Don't tell me your stultifying priggishness didn't appreciate the card I pushed through your letterbox. Is that what I've done wrong?'
Staggered at his glibness, she tightened her scarf around her throat. She was also blushing at the thought of the card he'd sent - a picture of two naked men having s.e.x in the snow. Definitely not one for the mantelpiece! But only Dominic could pretend that scene in the wine bar had never happened. 'I suggest you cast your mind back to last week when I threw my drink in your face,' she said, 'and in particular, the reason why I did it.'
'Surely you're not still cross about that? A silly off-the-cuff remark about my little bro fancying you?'
She looked at him hard. 'You called me frigid.'
'Did I?'
'You did.'
'And is that what you want me to apologise for? For you having an underdeveloped s.e.xuality? Not for my teasing you about Miles swapping his affections from one sister to another? Which was, I admit, rather cruel of me, but I wanted to see the look on his face. By the way, presumably you've now proved me right; that it was Miles with whom Felicity was having an affair?'
Having no intention of letting him off by being side-tracked, Harriet said, 'Dominic, I'm warning you. You apologise to me, right now. Or I'll - '
'Or what?' he interrupted her. 'What will you do, Harriet?' He suddenly flung his arms out wide. 'What can anyone do to me?' To her horror and amazement, he started to cry, and lurching towards her, he wept uninhibitedly, his sobs catching in his throat.
Stunned, and wondering if he'd been drinking, Harriet stood in his arms not knowing what to do. She tried to slip out of his grasp. 'Dominic,' she said. 'Please stop. The children. You'll upset them.'
To her relief he let go of her abruptly, almost flinging her away. But with his head back, his face open to the sky and tears streaming down his cheeks, he said, 'I don't give a d.a.m.n about anyone else. Don't you understand I'm beyond that? ... Please let me come and see your new house.' He was pleading with her.
What could she do but give in? She bundled him into the pa.s.senger seat of her Mini, hoping that he'd stop crying so that the children wouldn't ask what was wrong with him.
But he didn't stop crying, and they did ask what was wrong with him.
'Dominic's not feeling well,' she explained as they hurtled down Maple Drive and he leaned against the pa.s.senger window, his face partially hidden behind a handkerchief.
'Has he got flu like Will?' asked Joel.
'Would he like a sweet?' asked Carrie, leaning forward and offering a paper bag of Edna's pick'n'mix.
By the time they'd picked up the key from the estate agent and had driven on to the house, Dominic had calmed down. 'I'm sorry,' he murmured, when at Harriet's instruction the children had taken the keys and gone round to the back of the cottage. 'I warned you in Dublin that I was losing it.'
'Dominic, have you thought seriously about seeing someone? A doctor? Or maybe a therapist?'
'No!' He slammed the car door shut. 'Come on, I'm bored with this conversation. Show me your house. Show me where I'll come and visit you, where we'll sit by the fire eating crumpets on a cold winter's afternoon.'
His mood swings were so difficult to keep up with. Not for the first time, Harriet wondered if drugs were responsible. She knew from Felicity that years ago he went through a phrase of using amphetamines and c.o.ke. It was the reason Jeff had said he wouldn't ever allow Dominic to stay with them; he didn't want his children coming within a mile of someone with a drug habit. But whatever the reason behind Dominic's current erratic behaviour, Harriet knew she couldn't stay cross with him for long. She never had been able to. That was the trouble with him; he was his own constellation. You couldn't judge him by normal standards.
The house was freezing cold inside and Harriet quickly got on with the job of measuring up. Leaving the children to give Dominic the guided tour, she worked out where all the larger pieces of furniture would go. When the solicitor had given them the all-clear, she and her parents had sold most of Jeff and Felicity's things. Forever practical, though, she had kept most of the kitchen appliances as well as the more useful pieces of furniture, such as the kitchen table and chairs, a range of book cases, and of course, everything the children had had in their old bedrooms. It was all stored in her parents' garage, along with her stuff from the flat in Oxford. While she was looking forward to having her own belongings around her again, she wasn't so sure about resurrecting such tangible reminders of her sister. Her original thinking had been that their presence would be a comfort for Carrie and Joel, but supposing she'd got that wrong? Supposing it just chafed at the wound that was slowly healing?
Dominic made no comment on the house until they were locking up and the children were dragging him by the arm to come and look at the garden and ca.n.a.l. 'Felicity would approve,' was his only comment as he rested his elbows on the wall and watched a pair of swans gliding past. From nowhere, a smile appeared on his face. 'Let's go for lunch,' he said. 'A pub lunch. We should celebrate this day.'
'Why this day in particular?' she asked.
'Because I've decided I'm going to apologise to you.'
'Really? Why?'
'I'm not sure, to be honest. Now this pub you're taking me to, I'm a.s.suming it's one of those dreadful family pubs where they pander to the whims of diminutive savages? Any chance of there being some kind of quicksand pit in which these two can be thrown, thereby allowing us to have a quiet conversation?'
There was no quicksand, but there was the next best thing; a pit of brightly coloured plastic b.a.l.l.s and an enormous obstacle course above it. The children's eyes lit up when they saw it.
It was a surreal experience having lunch in such an environment with Dominic: only the Queen could have looked more out of place. 'Felicity told me these places existed,' he said, tossing his paper napkin onto his half-eaten plate of beef and ale pie and casting a disdainful glance around the Muzak-pumped pub, 'but I had no idea they were as ghastly as this. Whoever came up with the idea for this one obviously couldn't decide whether it was to be a creche or an S and M dungeon.'
'Trust you to make that comparison.'
'What's an S and M dungeon?'
Harriet jumped in smartly. 'Nothing you need ever think about, Carrie. Have you chosen what you want to eat for pudding? The ice-cream sounds good.'
Carrie puffed out her cheeks. 'I'm too full to eat anything else,' she said.
'Me too,' agreed Joel. 'Can we go and play?'
'If you like. Carrie, keep an eye on your brother for me, please. And make sure you don't forget where you've left your shoes.'
Joel immediately looked uncertain. He came round to Harriet's side of the table. 'Why don't you come and watch us?'
'I'm sure you'll be all right, Joel.'
He leaned against her, his small body heavy against her side. 'Pleease.'
'Okay, just until you're settled in.'
His face instantly brightened and he slipped his hand in hers and pulled her to her feet. 'You can either stay here on your own,' she told Dominic, 'or you can come and watch as well.'
'I wouldn't miss it for the world. What do you think, kids, shall we throw Harriet in too? She's no bigger than a child, so no one would notice, would they?'
Carrie and Joel laughed, but Harriet scowled back at him. 'Don't even think about it.'
He ruffled her hair and laughed. 'I'll think exactly what I want to.'
Fifteen minutes later, she and Dominic were still standing next to the ball pit where a swarming army of small children had the place under siege. Each time Harriet tried to move away, Joel would come over to make sure they were staying. 'I'm sorry,' she said to Dominic, 'but it looks like we're stuck here.'
He shrugged. 'I can think of worse places to be.'
'You can?'
'Lunch with my parents in Maple Drive would be a hundred times worse, I a.s.sure you. And for the record, I'm sorrier than I can say for what I said to you that night with Miles. I deserved what you did to me. Am I forgiven?'
'I'll think about it.'
He smiled. 'So now we've got that behind us, why don't you fill me in on what you've found out about Felicity and her not so mysterious lover. You must have come across some proof by now.'
Harriet hesitated. If she told Dominic what she'd discovered, and he then knew for sure that Miles had had a pa.s.sionate affair with Felicity, how would he react? In his current state of mind, would he think that Miles had defiled his dearest friend in some way?
But it had been a mistake to hesitate. He leapt on it. 'You've found something, haven't you? What a clever sleuth you've become! Come on, don't hold back.'
It was pointless even to think about lying to Dominic. Any prevarication on her part would have him turning up the pressure until she caved in. So she told him about the last email she'd read.
'I knew it. I knew it from the moment you told me in Dublin. Well, well, well. And isn't it always the quiet ones you have to watch? What did Miles say when you confronted him?'
'I haven't spoken to Miles about it and I'm not sure it's a matter of confronting him.'
'Really? And yet, if I'm not mistaken, there was a moment not so long ago when you had hopes for Miles, didn't you? Oh, don't insult me by feigning shock and denial. Is that why you had a fling with this Will character? To get back at Miles?'
The accuracy of his guesswork was breathtaking. But it was only guesswork, she told herself. He had no way of knowing what had been in her mind when she'd asked Will to kiss her that night. 'Stop fishing, Dominic,' she said firmly. 'What pa.s.sed between Will and me was private, and it will remain that way.'
'Don't be absurd, Hat. Old friends like us don't have secrets from each other. You realise, don't you, now that Felicity's dead, you're my oldest and closest friend?'
Unsure whether to be flattered or even more on her guard, she said, 'That's as maybe, but I'm not going to tell you anything; it wouldn't be fair to Will. He deserves that much respect from me, if nothing else.'
'How very honourable. I wish I could be more like you. But the sad truth is; there isn't an honourable bone in my body. My father saw to that.'
His voice echoed faintly with something that, coming from him, didn't add up. It was regret. Harriet studied his face closely.
'Don't look so surprised,' he said. 'I was always going to blame my father for my behaviour at some time or other. After all, he's made me the man I am.'
'That's a cop out.'
'Perhaps so in your eyes. However, it's the truth. I knew a long time ago that I had to distance myself from him and to do that I had to recreate who I was. I would have happily killed myself rather than turn out like Dr Harvey McKendrick, local do-gooding General Pract.i.tioner but healer of no one and nothing. Ironically, he destroys people rather than heals them. He used to make me look at p.o.r.n magazines when I was a boy. Oh, nothing too vile, just the run-of-the-mill stuff that he secretly enjoyed. You see, he suspected then that I wasn't normal. He once caught me brushing my mother's hair and he beat me senseless afterwards. That's when he decided I had to go away to school. Stupid old fool thought an all-male environment would cure me of my tendencies and I'd have it knocked out of me. I was raped three times in my first week by the head boy and his cohorts. I was eleven. Not much older than Carrie.'
Harriet was appalled. She and Felicity had known that Harvey McKendrick was a fierce disciplinarian, and they had always been a bit scared of him, but this was awful. How could any parent victimise their child so cruelly? And what would he have done with a sensitive boy like Joel ... who also liked to brush his mother's hair? She shuddered. Let anyone lay a hand on that boy and she'd kill them. Which begged the question what Freda McKendrick had been doing to protect her eldest son. 'But we all thought you were sent away because you were so bright,' she said.
He let out a short, bitter laugh. 'A convenient enough cover. And it had the added bonus of making me even more of an outsider. My father was and still is an overbearing, s.a.d.i.s.tic bully. It suits him perfectly that he has an agoraphobic wife; it means he can control her completely. These things don't happen by accident.'
'Did Felicity know all this?'