Chapter Eighteen #2
Sweet-natured Bella had somehow found it in her heart to forgive the Bournes and remain friends with them, right to the end. Now it seemed she had little choice but to follow her sister’s saintly example.
Selina was nothing like Bella, though, and she knew it would not be easy to look that scheming pair in the eyes and smile …
Wrapped up in hat and scarf, Selina set off early next morning across the moor.
Boxing Day had dawned cold but bright, and the snow had partially melted along the moorland track between their properties, making it a pleasant walk after so many days spent cooped up inside.
She caught sight of wild ponies in the distance, and more than once stopped to watch rabbits hopping about among the icy bracken.
Helen Bourne opened the front door, blinking in surprise at this unexpected visit. ‘Selina?’ Her nearest neighbour was not as neatly dressed and coiffured as usual, but clad in a scruffy old sweater and skirt, her hair quite wild. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Have I come at a bad time?’ Selina was taken aback.
But Helen shook her head, and stood aside. ‘Please, come in.’
In the chilly hall, Selina pulled off her gloves. ‘It’s a bit late, but I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas,’ she said awkwardly, and held out the tin containing a prettily decorated Christmas cake. ‘This is for you.’
Helen took the tin. ‘That’s very kind,’ she said stiffly.
‘Is your brother at home too?’
‘Sorry, no.’ Helen led the way to a small sitting room.
Her escritoire stood open, with pen and paper on the leather desktop, so it was obvious that she’d been interrupted in the act of writing a letter.
‘Please, sit down.’ Helen nodded to the armchair beside the smouldering fire, and then sat opposite, nursing the cake tin on her lap.
‘Cameron has gone away,’ she said, not meeting Selina’s gaze. ‘I spent Christmas Day alone.’
‘Oh no, how awful.’ Selina didn’t like Helen, whose brief fling with her brother-in-law had caused such terrible heartache for Bella.
And she loathed Cameron. But she felt guilty, knowing Helen had passed Christmas alone in this cold, empty house, only a short walk from Thornton Hall.
‘I wish I’d known; I would have invited you to lunch with us.
’ She frowned. ‘But surely he’s not away on business again? Over Christmas?’
Shaking her head, Helen shrank back into the armchair. All the old malice was gone from her face. Glancing up at a silver-framed photograph on the mantel of her and Cameron in their youth, she whispered, ‘He left me to get married.’
Selina stared. ‘He did what?’
‘We took a fortnight’s holiday in Paignton this summer,’ Helen explained miserably.
‘One of the large hotels on the esplanade. It was wonderfully civilised. Tea dances and a tennis pro. I had a marvellous time. But while we were there, Cameron met someone …’ Her mouth tightened.
‘Mrs Fiona Hamilton. No children, no relatives to speak of, and bored out of her mind since her husband died last year, leaving her a widow at barely forty.’
‘I see.’
Helen bent her head, picking at a loose thread on the armchair cover.
‘You know how charming Cameron can be when he puts his mind to it. He swept Fiona off her feet, and they kept in touch after the holiday ended. He started going away for a few days at a time, claiming he was off on business or visiting friends from his university days.’ There was a terrible bitterness in her voice as she finished, ‘But I knew where he was going. To see her.’
Selina bit her lip, feeling almost sorry for her, something she’d never thought would be possible. But Helen had been so very attached to her brother …
‘And are they married now?’
Helen nodded. ‘Last week. I was invited to the wedding. But I refused. I couldn’t have stood there and watched while …
’ A spasm of pain crossed her face as she glanced towards the writing desk.
‘When you rang the bell, I was writing to an old friend who’s just lost her husband.
I thought she might like to come and live here with me. Two old spinsters together.’
‘You’re hardly old, Helen.’ Selina managed a sympathetic smile. ‘But where are Cameron and his wife going to live? Not here, presumably.’
‘No, she has a vast country house in Paignton overlooking the sea. They’re on a Mediterranean cruise for their honeymoon, then he’ll move in with her there.
’ Helen got up to prod the fire with the poker, her movements restless and almost violent.
‘So, you might as well go home again. Prince Charming’s not here. ’
Selina got to her feet. ‘I didn’t only come here to see Cameron.’ Belatedly, she recalled her true mission. ‘The thing is … When I saw you in town recently, we were discussing my cousin, if you remember.’
Helen barely seemed to be listening. ‘Your cousin?’
‘I had the impression you know a few things about Nancy that are … private.’ Selina didn’t want to give away any further information, but also couldn’t risk not speaking plainly. ‘I was hoping you might keep those things to yourself.’
‘Not gossip about the baby, you mean?’ Ushering her into the hall, Helen gave a wild laugh. ‘Well, you don’t need to worry about me talking to anyone in town. Cameron took the car when he left. And I can’t drive anyway. So I’m stranded here. It’s unbelievably tedious.’
Pulling on her gloves again, Selina frowned. ‘But what about your maid?’
‘We lost our maid weeks ago, even before Cameron ran away to get married. He had no money left to pay her, you see.’ Helen smiled, nodding grimly at her surprised look. ‘That’s why he had to marry the wealthy widow. To get out of debt.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Selina hesitated at the front door, genuinely concerned. ‘Hasn’t Cameron provided for you at all?’
‘I have a monthly allowance. But this place belongs to Cameron. He could turn me out of doors any time he likes.’
‘I’m sure he would never do that.’ Though Selina knew it was more than possible.
She recalled a dinner party at the hall soon after she’d arrived there, attended by the Bournes, and wracked her brain for the names of some of the other guests.
‘Look, why don’t you go and stay with the Knowleses in Bodmin?
I’m sure John and Deirdre would be delighted to have you as a guest.’ Seeing Helen’s lip curl at this suggestion, she stammered, ‘Or … Or those two elderly sisters who were friends of Bella’s? What were their names?’
‘I’m happy here,’ Helen said flatly.
Selina didn’t know what else to say. She felt perhaps she ought to invite the woman to stay with them at the hall. But the thought filled her with horror.
‘Well, do walk over to us if you need anything. Even just a chat.’ She smiled awkwardly. ‘I could do with some advice about Peter. He’s been rather difficult lately.’
‘Hardly surprising. This is his first Christmas without his mother,’ Helen pointed out.
Selina was taken aback by this crisp appraisal. Could she be right? Was Peter’s bad behaviour purely down to grief? ‘Come to dinner tonight, at least,’ she said guiltily, before she could change her mind. ‘Or lunch tomorrow? You can hardly survive out here on your own.’
With a shrug, Helen showed her out. ‘I’ll be fine.
The butcher and greengrocer vans still call occasionally.
And I’ve lived here all my life, remember?
This is my home.’ A flicker of malice returned as she added cattily, ‘Besides, you’ve got your hands full at the hall, haven’t you?
All Bella’s noisy brats underfoot, and now an illegitimate one on the way … ’
And she shut the door in Selina’s face.