Chapter 16 #2
‘No, I’ll do it,’ Sindy replied and disappeared into the kitchen at the rear of the café. ‘It’ll keep me out the back, away from Daphne.’
‘She can be hard work,’ Caitlin admitted as she took one of their locally made teapots from the shelf and spooned in the loose-leaf tea they always served.
‘Barbara’s right, though, you do have a fabulous singing voice.
Do you remember when you and Gilly sang “Lady Marmalade” in Dad’s adaptation of Cinderella?
It was incredible, but it was the last show either of you were in. ’
‘It was fun, but we were both in our mid-teens and boys were more interesting than singing,’ she said.
‘You started going out with Ricky around then, didn’t you?’ mused Caitlin.
‘Yes, and Gilly left the Players,’ said Sindy as an alarm buzzed. ‘The brownies are ready.’
Sindy disappeared into the kitchen and Caitlin glanced at the clock.
She estimated there was perhaps half an hour before the café became busy.
Once she had delivered Annie, Barbara and Daphne’s brunch, she would have time to begin wrapping up and organising the food for the evening ahead.
There was always a buffet at the end of rehearsals and everyone took it in turns to provide the refreshments, although the bulk of the catering usually fell to her and Sindy, helped by Suki Glossop.
Caitlin hummed ‘Lady Marmalade’ to herself as she headed towards the three women on the terrace who were deep in conversation.
‘Thanks, love,’ said Annie as Caitlin placed the tray on the table.
‘You’re looking lovely today, Caitlin,’ said Daphne.
‘Thanks,’ Caitlin replied. Daphne was wearing skinny jeans and a sequinned top slipping artfully from one shoulder to reveal her intense fake tan.
‘Not everyone can pull off that shade of— er— what would you call it? Greige?’
‘Sindy will be out with the sandwiches in a minute,’ Caitlin said, ignoring the jibe, but before she could retreat inside, she heard Rachel calling her name.
‘Moon, we need to talk to you,’ her sister snapped and Caitlin froze as first Rachel, then Gillian bounded up the shallow steps towards her.
‘What’s happened?’ she asked. ‘Is it Dad?’
‘Yes, but not what you think,’ said Gillian, taking her arm and steering her inside. ‘Can we use the back room?’
‘Of course,’ Caitlin replied.
Sindy appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, Rachel ignored her as she marched behind the counter, while Gillian gave her a stiff smile before following Caitlin down the short flight of steps that led to a large room at the rear.
This space had always been used as an office and a place to relax during quiet periods and Caitlin had updated it when she had inherited the café.
She had discarded all the ancient office furniture, wobbly tables and sagging chairs, replacing them with a large desk, which looked out over the small yard and a series of custom-built bookshelves.
On these were folders in a range of bright colours containing recipes, accounts and other miscellaneous paperwork.
On the other side was a sofa and small armchair grouped around a low coffee table where there was a television set, CD player and radio.
‘Tell me,’ said Caitlin as her two sisters halted.
‘Dad’s cut off our allowances,’ said Rachel. ‘Have you checked to see if he’s paid yours? Neither mine nor Gilly’s have arrived in our bank accounts this morning and whenever we try to call Grace in finance we’re diverted to her voicemail.’
Caitlin pulled her phone from her back pocket.
Her allowance from her father, a monthly sum paid to all three women alongside their salaries, went directly into a savings account.
She did not need it and regularly suggested to her father he keep it – her money from the café was enough to live on – but he insisted it was her due.
‘No,’ she said, checking the balance and the recent transactions. ‘Nothing.’
‘Damn him,’ snarled Rachel. ‘He really is serious about this stupid play, isn’t he?’
‘It appears so,’ said Gillian.
‘I need to speak to Pete,’ said Rachel and hurried out, her phone clamped to her ear.
‘Bye, Rache,’ murmured Caitlin. ‘Come again.’
Gillian laughed.
‘Her manners are worse than ever,’ said Gillian.
‘Rachel first and always, remember,’ stated Caitlin.
‘Ever since we were teenagers,’ agreed Gillian.
She ran a hand through her hair and pulled her phone from her bag.
‘There’s something else too,’ she continued and navigated to the webpage of the local estate agent.
‘The house has been sold. I spoke to Lacey who was dealing with it and she said it had barely been put on their website when a cash buyer came forward and offered the asking price. They want a quick sale, so Dad’s hoping to move in with Alan and me at the end of the month. ’
‘The house has been sold already? But what about our stuff? Mum’s things?’
‘No doubt we’ll receive a summons to collect anything we want before Dad disposes of the rest,’ said Gillian. ‘He’s awful when he’s in one of these moods. Do you remember when he redecorated the dining room one weekend when we’d gone away with Mum and Grandma to visit Auntie Bea?’
‘He threw out all Mum’s china and carved up the dining table and chairs for firewood,’ said Caitlin. ‘Mum was furious.’
‘He replaced that beautiful oak table with the awful round glass one and those uncomfortable stools,’ added Gillian.
‘Mum salvaged a chunk of the table to use as the counter in here.’
‘True, it was a relief when the leg fell off the new table and Mum replaced them all again.’
They shared a smile of remembrance and Caitlin felt a glimmer of hope, but almost as soon as the thought had entered her mind, Gillian’s friendly smile vanished.
‘If I’m not able to reach Dad on the phone, I’ll probably go to the Players meeting tonight. Will you be there?’
‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘I’m doing the food.’
‘See you later then,’ she said and marched away.
* * *
Caitlin opened the boot of her SUV and reached inside to pick up two of the large containers.
‘Moon, let me help you.’
‘Hey, Woody,’ she said as Lee appeared at her side and reached in to take the remaining two cool boxes.
‘I’ll come back for the crate of drinks,’ he said.
Caitlin opened her mouth to protest.
‘Doctor’s orders,’ he finished and gave her a cheeky grin.
‘Fine,’ she retorted in a mock huff and turned to walk towards the theatre, but as she did, a window was flung open on the side closest to where she was standing and she heard music. ‘What the…?’ she asked, panic rising like bile as a song from her childhood flashed across the summer evening.
It was a tune she had not heard for years: a mouse wearing clogs. As quickly as the tune interrupted the balmy evening, it stopped.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Lee.
‘Nothing,’ murmured Caitlin but she was unnerved. ‘Let’s get these inside before everyone arrives.’
‘How are things?’ Lee asked as they made their way inside.
‘Weird,’ said Caitlin as the familiar scent of beeswax polish mingled with an underlying hint of mustiness enveloped her. ‘Dad won’t take any of our calls and Stan’s dropping deep dark hints that he has a surprise for me.’
‘Your dad sulking isn’t great,’ said Lee, ‘but Stan’s news is exciting.’
‘Is it?’ she said. ‘I don’t like surprises, they’re rarely good even when that’s the intention. Anyway, he won’t be able to tell me for a while, he’s away.’
‘Where?’
‘London, interviewing potential new curates,’ she replied.
‘He’s away a lot,’ said Lee.
‘Yes, he said it’s because he’s being noticed by important people within the Church hierarchy. It’s the reason he’s requested a curate, to ensure there’s constant cover to maintain the wellbeing of his flock when he’s called to other duties.’
‘Did he say “wellbeing of his flock”?’ asked Lee.
‘I might have embellished,’ said Caitlin and they grinned.
‘It makes sense, though,’ continued Lee and Caitlin could tell he was attempting to minimise the sarcasm, ‘Stan being given help. After all, one day a week is a tough gig. You hardly see each other at the moment.’
‘I know you and Stan have never really clicked, but he means well.’
Lee shrugged and Caitlin laughed.
‘Woody, you’re so stubborn,’ she said.
‘I like your new ink by the way,’ Lee said and she knew he had deliberately changed the subject. ‘I noticed it when we were at your dad’s.’
‘My what?’
‘The silver lines around the triskele.’
‘They’re not a tattoo,’ she admitted. ‘In fact, I’ve been meaning to make an appointment to see you in your professional capacity. The lines appeared overnight and, well, look…’
She put down the containers she was carrying and rolled up the loose cotton sleeves of her dress; Lee’s eyes widened in surprise. The lines which had begun around the triskele had spread, winding silver trails along the inside of Caitlin’s arms.
‘Do they hurt?’ asked Lee, following suit and putting his own boxes on the floor.
‘No,’ she replied.
He hovered his hand above her arm as though asking permission to touch her. She gave a quick nod and he ran a gentle finger along the scar. She shivered as he turned her arm over to inspect the skin on the other side.
‘This one’s the same,’ she said, rolling up her other sleeve.
‘I’ve never seen anything like this,’ he said. ‘Do you mind if I take some pictures and send them to Poppy? We might have split up, but she’s still the best dermatological specialist I know.’
‘Of course,’ said Caitlin but she felt a stab of irritation.
Lee pulled his phone from his pocket and took a series of images, asking questions as he clicked away.
‘Thanks,’ he said, when he had finished. ‘I’m sure there’s a simple explanation, maybe an allergy.’
‘Probably,’ said Caitlin, but she doubted it. The lines were strange and yet they held a sinuous beauty, tracing curves and whorls across her skin in a mysterious and deliberate pattern.
‘Actually,’ said Lee, bending down to pick up the cool boxes before changing his mind and straightening up again. ‘I arrived early because I wanted to talk to you. I didn’t want you to hear it from another source and misunderstand.’
‘What’s happened?’ Caitlin asked, staring up into Lee’s uncharacteristically serious expression.
‘Please don’t be upset or think I’m being a crazy stalker but there’s no easy way to break this to you…’
‘Just tell me,’ she said as a sharp stab of panic ran through her.
‘I’ve bought your mum and dad’s house.’
‘What?’ she exclaimed, wondering if she had heard correctly.
‘You know how long I’ve been looking for a property and, being at the surgery, I hear a lot of rumours.
One of the guys from the new estate is a property developer and I overheard his wife saying the plot he’s always wanted is your dad’s house because he thinks he could build at least five houses or a block of flats on the land.
I was determined to stop him, so I asked Lacey at the estate agent to let me know when your dad put it on the market.
She called to say they were listing it this week, I offered the asking price and your dad accepted. ’
‘But, Lee, it’s a five-bedroomed house, why do you need so much space?’
‘I don’t at the moment,’ he agreed, ‘but Poppy and I made a lot of money from the house we sold in Fulham and I’ve made some good investments over the years, thanks to Slick’s advice. Nothing else has come up for sale in the old part of the village, which was why I decided to go for it.’
Caitlin was unsure how she felt about Lee’s announcement. It was strange to think of him living in their home, changing the décor to suit his taste, perhaps altering the garden.
Another, darker thought filled her mind, was he planning a family? Had he met someone else since his relationship with Poppy had ended? The idea of an unknown woman, Lee’s future wife, cooking in their kitchen was horrifying.
For some reason, she also did not feel he was being entirely truthful, the only good thing he had said was that he had thwarted a property developer from demolishing their beautiful home.
‘Thank you for saving it from being flattened,’ she said. ‘It’s going to take time to adjust to the idea of it being your house and not ours, though.’
‘For me, too,’ he admitted. ‘You’re welcome any time. I can leave your teenage bedroom as it is if you like, with the My Little Ponies and crystal mobiles.’
‘I never had My Little Ponies,’ she said, bending down to pick up the cool boxes, ‘but I will concede to the crystal mobiles.’