Chapter 14 #2
Stan scowled as he scrolled through his messages.
He was a good-looking man with well-defined features and thick dark hair which he wore in an old-fashioned 1940s-style modelled on his idol the actor Cary Grant.
His clothes were of a similar ilk and were mildly eccentric, but, when out of his dog collar, his unusual style made him appear non-threatening and easy to approach.
He was well-loved by his parishioners and villagers alike.
Easy to laugh and with the ability to charm people, he was tipped to rise high in the Church of England.
In recent months, however, Caitlin had become aware of another side to her fiancé.
He could be secretive, then patronising when questioned about his behaviour.
He was also a sulker, refusing to speak if he felt he had been slighted or challenged in his opinions.
At first, Caitlin had laughed about it, but as time passed, she found his moodiness exhausting.
She understood couples disagreed and, while she was ready to find a solution to suit them both, Stan would often refuse to discuss problems, preferring to remain silent until, in frustration, she bent her views to mirror his own.
His phone rang again and he gave an apologetic shrug before answering in a booming hearty voice, ‘Hello, Daphne, what can I do for you this morning?’
Caitlin began unpacking the cool box, depositing the neatly wrapped packages of sandwiches, salads and pies in the fridge, before laying out the cakes on a series of decorative plates. She filled the kettle and was sorting out cups and plates when she heard Stan say: ‘Goodbye, then.’
He walked over to the counter and took a square of brownie before continuing as though there had been no interruption. ‘Who’s collecting your dad?’
‘Uncle George and Lee,’ she replied. ‘We all offered, but he insisted on what he called his “medical escort”.’
‘Why do you call him Uncle George?’ said Stan irritably. ‘He’s not a relation.’
‘We’ve always done it,’ replied Caitlin. ‘Uncle George and Aunt Suki were a huge part of our life growing up. It was polite as children to give them the honorary title of uncle and aunt.’
‘But you’re a grown woman now, you could drop the “uncle” and “aunt” tag.’ He said the words in a childish lisp. ‘It’s very juvenile.’
Caitlin was saved the bother of responding as voices filled the hallway.
‘Moon, you’re here,’ said Gillian, bustling in. ‘Hello, Stan, good to have you home.’
Her tone was polite, but there was no warmth. She glanced at the food Caitlin was laying out and her eyes narrowed in distaste.
Alan followed her in and beamed, before hugging Caitlin. ‘Hello, Moonbeam,’ he said, releasing her. ‘How are you bearing up?’
‘I’m fine now we know he’s going to recover,’ she said.
‘It’s a relief,’ Alan agreed. ‘Can I have a brownie?’
He took one of the cakes with a naughty grin.
Alan was ten years older than Gillian, balding and with an expanding girth, but there was a warmth and likeability about him.
Gillian and Alan had met when they had worked together.
Gillian had left university with a first-class business studies degree and had managed to secure a prestigious placement at a London bank.
Although very junior at first, she had shown huge aptitude and was quickly promoted.
Alan had been her team leader. For him, he claimed it was love at first sight; for Gillian, the attraction had been slower to grow.
When their father had offered Gillian a role in the family business, a position she had refused upon first leaving education as she had wanted to prove herself, she decided to accept.
When she gave three months’ notice, Alan was devastated and, unbeknown to Gillian, applied for a job at her father’s company.
Larry had been surprised by the application as there were no vacancies, so he had rung Alan, and in his usual self-effacing style, Alan had explained his feelings for Gillian and her growing fondness of him.
‘She’s determined to put her career first,’ he had explained. ‘She wants to prove herself to you.’
‘There’s no need for her to impress me,’ Larry had replied, appalled. ‘My heart explodes with pride every time I think about her.’
After the conversation, Larry had created a role especially for Alan, determined to do his best to foster the romance.
Gillian had been stunned when she had arrived for her first day at King’s Factories to discover Alan seated in the office opposite her.
He had told no one except his immediate superiors he was leaving in order to keep it a surprise for Gillian.
‘Isn’t it a bit like stalking?’ Rachel had said when Gillian confided in her sisters that evening.
‘Or it’s incredibly romantic,’ Caitlin had suggested.
‘Do you love him, Bean?’ Rachel had asked and Gillian’s deep blush had been all the answer they needed. ‘Then I concede to Moon, it’s romantic.’
They had married a year later, with Caitlin and Rachel as their bridesmaids.
Gillian walked out into the garden, shaking her dark auburn hair away from her pretty heart-shaped face, a haunted look in her amber eyes.
A wide terrace spread the entire width of the house, with a large table and chairs in the centre.
She leaned across the table and opened the umbrella before walking over to the summer house and gathering the cushions for the garden furniture.
When she had arranged everything to her liking, she took a seat as far away as possible from the house.
‘Don’t mind her,’ said Alan. ‘She’s struggling.’
‘I’ll talk to her,’ said Stan and followed Gillian out before either Caitlin or Alan could advise against it.
‘By the way, Moon, thank you for the info on the pineapples and witches,’ Alan said in an undertone. ‘When I surprised her, she burst into tears but assured me they were happy tears; we had a fabulous evening. We’ve become rather partial to pina coladas.’
‘Wonderful news,’ she said.
Moments later, Stan returned looking flustered.
‘Perhaps she’s better on her own,’ he said and wandered off, phone in hand, checking his messages.
Caitlin and Alan exchanged an amused look; both had been on the receiving end of Gillian’s sharp tongue many times when she had not wanted to be disturbed.
The entire family had learned to read the signs of when to back away from Gillian and give her space to regain her equilibrium.
Stan, with his self-righteous belief he knew better than everyone, was yet to learn when to leave her in peace.
Another key grated in the lock, followed by footsteps, and Rachel paused in the doorway. Tall and slim, her highlighted blonde hair was styled into casual-looking waves which Caitlin knew took hours to perfect. Pete put his hands on her waist and propelled her into the room.
‘This is a surprise,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realise there was a reception committee.’
‘Larry insisted,’ said Alan.
‘Who’d like a drink?’ asked Caitlin. ‘I’ve put the kettle on.’
‘I’ll help,’ said Alan.
Rachel walked past her and outside, where she took a seat a few spaces away from Gillian. Pete followed, wandering around the garden admiring the plants. It was beautifully landscaped and with a gardener tending it twice a week, it was as immaculate as when Larry was at home.
‘There’s pineapple cake here if you want to take Bean a slice,’ said Caitlin as she poured water into the teapot and the cafetière.
She placed them on the tray and, as Alan reached over to lift it, she added the plate of cakes.
‘You’re a star,’ Alan said.
‘I’ll be out in a moment,’ said Caitlin and Alan gave an understanding smile as he set off with his cargo.
Caitlin sipped her tea and watched as Stan, having finished checking his messages, joined the rest of her family. He picked up the teapot and began pouring.
Go out there and talk to them, she told herself, but her stomach knotted at the idea.
She loved her older sisters, but there was no one on earth who could injure her with such cruelty and precision as Gillian and Rachel.
She could do the same in return, but she had no desire to drive the wedge any further between them; she was desperate for it to heal.
Yet, she knew she had to take responsibility for her part in the rift.
She had spoken, not out of malice but astonishment, and this had led to the fallout.
The tea she sipped was one of her mother’s herbal brews and was supposed to bring about calm and strength, but it was not helping. Stan had turned to beckon her outside, but to her relief as he did, the doorbell rang.
‘I’ll go,’ she called, although none of the others appeared to have heard it.
To her surprise, her father’s long-standing personal assistant, Heather Blackstone, was on the doorstep with an attaché case on wheels.
‘Hello, Caitlin, love,’ said Heather in a soft Yorkshire accent. ‘I’m sorry to intrude, but your father left me a message asking me to pop by; he wanted this paperwork.’
‘Thank you, Heather,’ said Caitlin, stepping back to let the woman pass. ‘He’s his own worst enemy. He’s supposed to be resting.’
‘Your father will never stop,’ Heather replied. ‘He also asked if I’d wait for him to arrive home as he wants me to witness a document.’
‘What document?’
‘I’ve no idea, love.’
‘You’d better go through,’ said Caitlin, but before she could follow, Lee’s car swept up the drive. ‘Dad’s here,’ she called to the others, then hurried outside to meet her father.
‘Darling,’ exclaimed Larry as George helped him out of the car, ‘it’s so wonderful to see you.’
Caitlin felt her father’s arms around her as he hugged her tightly, but despite his best efforts, his grip was less than half its usual strength.
‘Dad, you’re home…’
‘Dad, let me help you…’
There was a surge of people as Gillian, Rachel, Alan, Pete and Stan hurried out.
‘Careful, everyone,’ said George. ‘Don’t knock him over in your enthusiasm.’
‘Stop fussing, you lot,’ Larry said, but Caitlin knew her father was enjoying being the centre of attention.
‘How are you feeling today?’ Lee asked her as he entered last, carrying Larry’s bag.
‘Bearing up,’ she replied, pointing for him to put the bag at the foot of the stairs.
‘No, I’ll take it up,’ he said and hurried away.
Caitlin followed the others through to the garden where Larry was already ensconced in his favourite chair in the shade. Rachel was pouring him tea and Gillian was helping him to choose a cake.
‘My girls,’ he said. As Caitlin joined them, he added with a beaming smile, ‘My baby.’
Gillian and Rachel exchanged a sour look but said nothing. Instead they took seats either side of their father, while Caitlin settled next to Stan.
‘And Heather, you’re here,’ said Larry, reaching out to grasp her hand.
* * *
For the next half an hour, they chatted, then Caitlin suggested lunch and the food from the café was laid out, then demolished with enthusiasm.
The chatter and noise was resonant of any family group but Caitlin knew it was surface deep.
Each of them was relieved to have Larry home but the ties that had once bound them remained severed and with each forced laugh and retold tale of reminiscence, she felt scars grow on her heart.
Oh Mum, she thought, if you were here, we’d have resolved this tension by now.
‘Where’s Lee?’ asked her father, interrupting her thoughts.
‘He went inside…’ began Pete, but Lee had returned, pushing his phone into his back pocket.
‘Good, you’re back,’ said Larry and tapped his teaspoon on the side of his cup in a request for silence. ‘I don’t want anyone to miss my announcement.’
‘Announcement?’ said Alan, taking another cake. ‘Have you fallen in love with one of the nurses and are planning to elope?’
‘He’s still got the looks,’ riposted George to a ripple of laughter.
‘No, nothing so exciting,’ Larry said. ‘But, lying in my hospital bed, terrified I might never recover made me reconsider many things.’
He sipped his tea, his blue eyes serious.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Gillian.
‘I asked Heather here to enable her to witness some documents.’
‘Did the doctors discover something else?’ said Rachel anxiously.
Larry beamed but he would not meet any of their gazes. ‘No, Rabbit, I’m on the mend,’ he assured them, ‘but I’ve made a decision, I’m retiring from King’s Factories and rather than wait until I die to divide up my business empire, I’m going to do it today.’