Chapter 8
8
LISA
‘Blimey, Mum, you here again? You’ll be hiring a charabanc next and start charging for trips round Hudson House. And why on earth have you brought Fabian?’ Jess, Lisa could see, was flustered as she attempted to extricate herself from the shaky yet surprisingly tenacious grip of ninety-eight-year-old Clive, who was equally determined she should not.
‘Sorry, darling,’ Lisa said, glancing up at Fabian, who was standing quietly at her side. ‘We’re in your way.’
‘It’s fine, Mum.’ Jess managed a smile. ‘Really. Would you like coffee, both of you?’
‘Drunk a gallon already this morning,’ Fabian said cheerfully. ‘We’ve come to see this miniature White House of Lisa’s.’
‘Oh, right. Through the kitchens and the door down to your right. Try not to let too many of the residents see you leave or they’ll be following you out, in various stages of undress, like the Pied Piper.’
‘OK. Lisa?’
Lisa led the way, ridiculously excited at sharing her garden find with someone who appeared to be as interested as herself. She stopped to deadhead a couple of rusting floribunda that should have been done months ago. ‘Do you like gardening, Fabian?’
‘I like the finished product…’ he smiled. ‘…but haven’t a clue how to go about it. Dad’s quite into gardening, but there’s always been someone brought in to do most of the donkey work. And then, living in London, in an apartment, there’s never been any need…’ He broke off. ‘Goodness, is that it?’ Fabian put up a hand against the weak January sun that was reflecting a kaleidoscope of white light on what remained of the previous day’s snowfall. ‘I never expected…’ He moved quickly forwards, Lisa in his wake, until he came to a standstill at the entrance to the white marble building. ‘I see what you mean about the White House. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear “The Stars and Stripes Forever” being played.’
Catching up with him, Lisa put a hand to her chest, breathing heavily. ‘Amazing, isn’t it?’
‘You OK?’ Fabian was concerned. ‘I know you’ve not been well.’
‘Fabian, I’m fine. Just a fifty-four-year-old woman who needs to improve her fitness. Which I fully intend doing with everything else I’ve promised myself I’ll change.’
‘You sure? Is it open?’
‘It was yesterday. Come on.’
Once inside, Fabian moved quickly from room to room. ‘There’s an upstairs as well,’ Fabian called. ‘Marble steps – a bit slippy but totally safe. You stay here if it’s too much.’
‘Fabian, I’m perfectly fine.’
‘There’s a balcony up here,’ he shouted down as Lisa made her way up to him. ‘My goodness, what a view. All the way over to those hills…’
‘Those are not just any hills.’ Lisa laughed, sounding like an M the Sattar brothers are planning to build one of their factories right here.’
‘Is it actually sold, Jess? It can’t have gone through yet?’ Fabian was calm, his legal training taking over.
‘Well, I got the impression it was…’ Jess trailed off, glancing first at Lisa and then around at the inside of the summer house as if seeing it for the first time.
‘Have you ever actually been up here before?’ Lisa shook her head at Jess, who’d never shown a huge amount of interest in the great outdoors. Apart from on a hockey pitch when she was a kid where she’d shown an almost psychopathic refusal to allow a ball in her net. Shame she’d not had that same resolve to keep bloody Dean Butterworth out of her bed.
‘Yes, of course,’ Jess was saying and Lisa suddenly realised she was embarrassed at being called out in front of Fabian.
‘I’m amazed the owners haven’t looked after this building better.’ Fabian was now tapping at walls, feeling for damp, jumping on the wooden parquet floor for signs of rot. ‘Having said that, it’s amazingly well preserved. I suppose having been built of stone and marble, rather than wood as modern summer houses and orangeries are today, there’s no reason why it should be falling down. Jess, come on, come and look upstairs.’
‘You’re mad,’ Jess said, but nevertheless followed Fabian up to the next level. ‘Goodness,’ she went on, her voice one of surprise as Lisa followed on behind. ‘I’d no idea there was all this room! Blimey, you could sit loads of people – or even have the kitchens – on this second floor.’
‘Definitely sit diners up here.’ Fabian was excited. ‘You wouldn’t want to waste this view on kitchens, would you?’
Jess had moved over to the window once Lisa mounted the steps, and was gazing down and across the gardens and to the rolling hills beyond. ‘They’ve still got snow on them,’ she was saying almost dreamily. ‘And who’d have thought you could see so much of Yorkshire spread out in front of you?’
‘I bet you can see four counties from here,’ Lisa surmised.
‘Four?’ Fabian had joined them at the window.
‘Yorkshire, Lancashire, Derbyshire… and Cheshire at a push…’
‘You could call the place The Four Counties.’ Jess continued to scan the vista.
‘How about The White House?’ Fabian smiled.
‘Too American: people would think you’d just be serving burgers and fries.’ Lisa grimaced. ‘The Eyrie…?’ she began.
‘Eerie what?’ Jess turned, pulling a face. ‘You’d soon put punters off if they thought they were coming to a sort of Hallowe’en do with fake cobwebs and ghostly moans accompanying their starter… oh, right, eyrie as in eagle’s nest? Right.’ Embarrassed once more, she headed back for the stairs. ‘Great dream but a) Hudson House is sold and this building will be flattened and b) it’s hairdresser day and it’ll be curlers at dawn if I don’t get down there to sort them out.’ She headed for the door.
‘Jess, come on, what do you think?’ Fabian wasn’t letting it go.
‘Well, I haven’t got a penny.’ Jess laughed. ‘So, if you’re wanting me to go halves with you on this… Oh, I don’t know why I’m even thinking about it when the Sattars have already laid claim to it. Sorry, I’ll have to go…’ And with that she set off without a backward glance.
‘Hmm, I don’t think she wants us around.’ Fabian frowned.
‘Jess is just very stressed,’ Lisa soothed. ‘She’ll have to find a new job soon, I guess. I could do with a coffee though. D’you think we can go and help ourselves in the kitchens?’
‘Come on, I’ll treat you.’ Fabian shook his car keys in Lisa’s direction. ‘I can’t stop thinking about crumpets – I’ve become addicted to them after moving up to Yorkshire.’
‘Good reason to stay up here, then. There’s a lovely little café down in Beddingfield village where they do crumpets dripping with butter and a pretty mean coffee.’
* * *
‘Best coffee I’ve had since leaving London.’ Fabian smiled, wiping butter from his chin with a gaily coloured paper napkin.
‘We’re not all whippets and eeh by gum , you know.’ Lisa grinned, savouring her own coffee.
‘You’ve not exactly got “Made in Yorkshire” stamped all the way through you.’ His smile was questioning.
‘I was born in Surrey.’
‘Oh? How’ve you ended up here, then?’
‘The people I lived with moved to Sheffield when I was nine or so.’
‘The people you lived with?’ Fabian pulled a face. ‘That sounds a strange way of talking about your adoptive parents. I mean I know you were adopted, Lisa – Robyn told me when she and I first met.’
‘Hmm.’ Lisa picked up her cup once more, draining the contents. ‘I know the second cup is never as good as the first, but I’m having another. You?’
Fabian nodded, catching the eye of the waitress. ‘And Beddingfield?’
‘Jayden was based in Leeds. I met him in a club in Bradford when I was seventeen. After several years out on the road with him…’
‘Really?’ Fabian interrupted. ‘You were a sort of roadie?’
‘Yep. I did the bookings, made appointments, made sure he and the band were fed and watered even if some nights we could only afford to sleep in the van.’ Lisa laughed. ‘I even joined him on stage sometimes; you know, if his backing group had disowned him because they hadn’t been paid.’
Fabian stared. ‘I feel like I’ve had a very staid life compared to you.’
‘I was rubbish.’ Lisa grinned. ‘Kept coming in on the wrong note at the wrong time. And then I realised I was pregnant with Jess. I’d had enough of constantly being on the move – almost five years in total – and, to be honest, I think Jayden had had enough of me cramping his style. We were often abroad, particularly in Denmark, Sweden and Copenhagen.’ She laughed. ‘I remember throwing up over the side of the North Sea ferry and knew I was totally fed up with it all. I wanted a place of our own and not the horrible rented flat in Harehills in Leeds. We were on our way back from somewhere and heading straight for the flat after being away for a month. The van blew a gasket and we ended up looking for a garage, smoke billowing from the exhaust, in the prettiest village I’d ever seen…’
‘Beddingfield?’
Lisa nodded. ‘I knew straight away I’d found where I wanted to live; a village with a duck pond, a pub and gift shops and a village school where I’d be able to send this baby I was expecting.’
‘What, as soon as it was born?’ Fabian grinned at her over his coffee cup and, not for the first time, Lisa knew exactly what it was Robyn saw in this man.
‘You know what I mean,’ she tutted. ‘I wanted to put down roots, give the baby a home, give it a stable upbringing where it would be totally loved and wanted.’
‘And your upbringing wasn’t like that?’ Fabian was insistent, obviously wanting to know more.
‘I wanted my baby to know who it was, where it came from. Who its parents were.’
‘Of course you did.’ Fabian stopped speaking as the waitress placed their fresh coffees in front of them.
‘Obviously it didn’t work out quite the way I wanted. The last thing Jayden wanted was to be stuck in a quiet Yorkshire village – however pretty – with a wife and new baby.’
‘You got married, then?’
‘Nope. Jayden never asked me. I don’t suppose he believes in marriage. Oh, I certainly asked him more than once to put a ring on my finger; to give Jess and me some sense of belonging. Some security. To be fair, I wanted a family. Not Jayden’s fault if that wasn’t what he wanted as well. I should have left him before I tried the old “coming off the pill without telling him” trick.’ Lisa air-quoted the words. ‘I celebrated my twenty-third birthday in a beat-up old white van on board a ferry somewhere between Portsmouth and Bilbao. The Bay of Biscay, when pregnant, is not an experience I ever want to repeat. So, we rented a cottage in the village and then, when it came up for sale, Jayden bought it.’
‘You were left by yourself a lot of the time?’
‘Well, with Jess. I adored her and I was actually really happy. Then, when she was only ten months old, I found I was pregnant again. This time with Robyn. I thought two little girls would be more than enough to tie Jayden down. But, I had absolutely no right to tie anyone down. To curb anyone’s freedom when they’re still only in their late twenties and trying to make a name for themselves. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, Fabian, it’s that.’
‘And your own parents? They must have been around to help you with two babies?’
‘I told you; they’re not my parents.’
‘I’m sorry. I’m going on a bit, aren’t I?’ Fabian obviously didn’t know how to answer this. ‘But are they still alive?’
‘I’ve really no idea. I’ve had no contact with the Foleys since I walked out the summer I finished A levels.’ Lisa gave a short laugh. ‘I didn’t even know if I’d passed them or not for a year or so.’
‘What? Passed your parents in the street?’ Fabian looked shocked.
‘No.’ Lisa laughed again. ‘I didn’t know if I’d passed my A levels. I’d been offered a place at Warwick to study biology, but I walked away from it all.’
‘And had you?’
‘Passed?’ Lisa nodded. ‘Four A’s. Adrian Foley made sure of that.’
‘Your dad?’
‘I told you, he wasn’t my dad.’ Lisa’s face began to close down, her eyes refusing to meet Fabian’s. ‘I once looked up the definition of adopted. Do you know what the dictionary definition is?’
‘Er, no, I can’t say I do.’
‘To legally take another person’s child into your own family and take care of her as your own child.’
‘Sounds about right.’
‘Take care of her as your own child?’ Lisa gave a short laugh. ‘Despite the fact that they were both trained teachers – and Adrian Foley a headteacher whose job it was to care for, as well as educate, children – neither of them had a clue about caring for the little girl – me – they’d adopted at a few weeks old.’
‘I’ve always known you were adopted but Robyn’s never told me any of this about your adoptive parents,’ Fabian said gently.
‘Because I’ve never spoken about the Foleys. I didn’t want my girls tainted by who they were.’ Lisa broke off, frowning. ‘Look, I’m sorry, Fabian, my childhood and the Foleys are not something I talk about. I really don’t know why I’m telling you all this now. Your professional expertise, I guess, to wheedle things out of people?’
Fabian put up two hands in apology, but Lisa continued regardless.
‘I even made up a totally false story about my childhood, telling the girls I’d been at a local comp in Sheffield instead of St Mark’s, one of the most prestigious public schools in South Yorkshire, where Adrian Foley was head. And Jayden, for all his faults, did listen. And listen and listen. Which was probably because of the awful childhood he’d suffered himself…’
‘Robyn told me about Jayden’s father. Actually, in truth, she didn’t tell me until my brother, Julius, did the research. Easy enough to google the reggae artist Jayden Allen. Julius thought he’d hit the jackpot when it came up that Winston Allen, Jayden’s father, had murdered Jayden’s mother and her lover when Jayden was tiny. A black West Indian murdering his white wife and her lover back in the early seventies must have really hit the headlines?’
‘It sure did.’ Lisa appraised Fabian for a few seconds. ‘But your finding out that her grandfather was a double murderer didn’t stop you wanting to be with Robyn?’
‘Well, I wasn’t pleased that Robyn hadn’t told me herself. That it was Julius – he’s my half-brother, Lisa, and we’ve never really got on – who spilled the beans. He really thought I’d have nothing more to do with her when all that came out.’
‘As did the Foleys when they learned the truth about Jayden’s father,’ Lisa said. ‘When you love someone their family history’s irrelevant.’
Fabian gave a wry smile. ‘I’m not sure Robyn sees it that way. She finds it difficult to come to terms with the fact that my family were all educated at Eton.’ He paused. ‘You know, she sees them as white, entitled Tories…’
Lisa laughed. ‘Are they? Are you ? And now she knows I was educated at what is probably one of the country’s – certainly the north’s – most prestigious public schools, surely Robyn can’t still be hanging onto these ridiculous prejudices of hers?’
‘I’m afraid I’m not a political animal,’ Fabian said, neatly sidestepping any criticism of Robyn from her own mother.
Lisa hesitated. ‘You’ve done the right thing leaving London, Fabian. I think it all got too much for you?’
Fabian nodded, seemingly embarrassed. ‘My mother and brother think I’ve let the family down, abandoning the family firm.’
‘They blame Robyn? That you’ve followed her up here?’
He nodded.
‘I’m sorry about that. Never good to be at odds with your parents, no matter how old you are. Right, so, now that we know a little more about each other, how serious are you about turning the white house into a restaurant?’
‘The Eyrie, please.’ Fabian grinned, animated once more. ‘Don’t you think it would be fabulous, Lisa? I mean, do you realise just how talented Jess is?’
Lisa nodded. ‘I do. Trouble is, she doesn’t.’
‘D’you not think her coming first in the Yorkshire Christmas TopChef competition has given Jess some confidence about how good she is?’ Fabian asked.
‘I don’t know. If you did look into starting up a business with her, I’m not convinced she’d have the nerve to actually go in with you. If things went wrong, she’d never forgive herself.’
‘Better to have tried and lost than never to have tried at all…’ Fabian broke off as two designer-suited and booted men, probably in their early fifties, made their way to an adjacent table, sitting down and immediately perusing the menu.
‘The Sattar brothers.’ Lisa nudged Fabian meaningfully, murmuring their name in a low voice.
‘How do you know?’
‘Fabian,’ Lisa whispered, turning away from the men and continuing to talk in hushed tones. ‘This is a small village. Everyone knows everyone round here, but particularly those who employ half the people who live in it.’