Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Stella removed the butter from the fridge and left it to reach room temperature, then she set out in the pink glow of dawn to find an open shop. She had to do an extra lap until the shop opened at seven, but managed to get her eggs, along with one or two other baking necessities. Back at the red-brick house, she let herself in with the spare key Benedict had left out for her with a little note. Typically, it gave nothing away, saying only Spare Key followed by a smiley face. Once indoors, she stowed her provisions then padded upstairs to take a shower. Today was going to be a laid-back sort of a day so she dressed in jeans and her favourite red jumper. It had many holes in it, which she’d darned over with daisies. The end was in sight for it because soon there would be more daisies than jumper, but it was still just about wearable.
Downstairs in the kitchen, she checked the oven temperature, hunted out the utensils she’d need and measured out her ingredients by eye. Everything from the wooden spoon through to the cake tins had been chosen with care, and she tried not to think too hard about the woman who’d equipped her kitchen ready to bake birthday cakes for her future children. There was even a colourful set of spoons and whisks designed for small hands. She creamed the sugar together with the room-temperature butter, and within quarter of an hour she was pouring fragrant batter into a pair of duck-egg blue baking tins and sliding them into the oven.
By the time she’d finished washing up and tidying away – a task that always took much longer than the actual mixing part – a lemony smell started to fill the kitchen. She guessed the cakes were ready and gently opened the oven door for a peek. Seeing they were indeed ready, she pulled the door wide, donned the oven gloves and lifted the beautifully risen golden sponges onto some cooling racks. The sight and smell of the cakes made her hungry, so she’d have to get on and make some breakfast. By the sound of the soft thumps and clumps coming from upstairs, someone else was also ready for breakfast. Just as well she’d bought plenty of eggs.
While the eggs boiled, she ground some coffee beans and set the pot on the hob to brew, then squeezed three oranges and put the jug and tumblers on the table. After testing the sponges with the back of her hand to make sure they were cool enough, she stashed them in a high cupboard so Daniel wouldn’t see them. Benedict came into the room, sporting a piece of what looked like newspaper stuck to a shaving injury on his chin.
‘I’m a dreadful host, expecting you to bake and then letting you make our breakfast too.’
‘It’s fine, and it makes a pleasant change to have someone else to cook breakfast for.’
‘Well, it’s still very good of you.’ Benedict patted his cut chin. ‘I’d better go and hurry Daniel along. He was deciding which socks to wear when I left him, and it can take all day sometimes.’
Typical for a child with a Libran ascendant thought Stella to herself. Always delightful but seldom able to choose between two things, supposing their lives depended on it.
When Daniel ran into the kitchen, clutching Tedward, there was a neat stack of toast soldiers on his plate, along with a perfectly soft-boiled egg. Daniel was wearing two different socks, and Stella gave him a quizzical look as she poured out some orange juice.
‘I can’t decide if spotty socks or stripy socks are my favourite, so I’m wearing one of both.’
‘I see. Wearing one of each sounds like an excellent solution if you can’t make up your mind. Come on, get stuck in.’
She chopped the top off his egg, and the little boy dipped in a buttery soldier. Within seconds, he had egg yolk smeared around his mouth. Benedict came into the kitchen, now minus his wound dressing, and grimaced at the sight of his son’s face.
‘Daddy, we’re having dippy egg and soldiers.’
‘Yes, I can see that. Except it’s more like drippy egg, judging by the state of your chops.’
Stella nudged Benedict towards the table and passed him a plate before joining him. The sun shone through the window and lit up father and son’s hair with golden lights as they razored their way through breakfast.
‘A bit hungry, are we, Professor and Master Redman?’
‘We certainly are, aren’t we, Daniel?’ Receiving a yolk-smeared smile and a nod in reply, Benedict continued. ‘It’s been so long since anyone cooked us breakfast. I can’t remember when…’
‘Aunty Miranda makes dippy eggs and soldiers all the time. She made them the other week.’
‘For you, Daniel. I was away. You stay at Aunty Miranda’s sometimes, don’t you?’
‘Mm-hmm. Aunty Miranda’s nice, I’ve got my own bedroom in her house, Stella.’
‘Have you? I bet it’s a lovely one too.’
‘Yes, it is, because it’s all painted a lovely green colour, like an apple, and she’s got a big tree in her garden that she lets me climb when Daddy’s not looking.’
‘Does she? Well Aunty Miranda sounds like a lot of fun. Is she coming to your party? ’
The boy nodded. ‘Daddy, will Aunty Miranda bring me a present?’
‘Almost certainly, but I beg you not to ask her about it. I can’t face another lecture on the importance of good manners in children.’
Daniel scraped his spoon against his plate, and when his father got up to fetch more coffee, he whispered loudly in Stella’s ear.
‘Stella, I bet you’ve brought me a great, big present.’
‘Daniel Redman! What did I just say about asking for presents?’
‘But I wasn’t asking, Daddy. I was just guessing.’
‘Daniel…’
At his father’s tone, the boy moved away from Stella, his little cheeks glowing. She gave him a sympathetic wink. Poor kid was just excited. Still a little sheepish from his father’s ticking off, Daniel excused himself from the table and asked if he could play in the garden. When granted permission, he grabbed Tedward and ran outside to play.
It was a perfect summer morning and the powder-blue sky was scattered with fluffy white clouds. Tangles of flowering shrubs framed and sheltered the lawn. At one end was Daniel’s climbing frame, complete with a swing, slide and monkey bars. Stella could see Daniel from the kitchen window as she washed up beside his father. Watching him playing on his swing, with Tedward on the grass looking up at him, she thought what a lonely little boy he must be, with a father who had to work away a lot and an aunt acting as a stand-in mother. What he needed was a chubby puppy. This was definitely a boy in need of a dog to love and mess about with. She handed the newly clean pan to Benedict to dry and emptied out the washing-up bowl.
‘Did you ever think of getting Daniel a dog?’
‘What?’ Benedict turned suddenly. ‘You haven’t bought one for his birthday have you?’
‘Of course not.’ This sharp tone was a bit disconcerting. ‘Is he allergic or something?’
‘No, but Miranda is absolutely terrified of dogs. She can’t bear them.’
‘But she doesn’t live here.’
‘No, but she has Daniel whenever I’m away, and she could hardly be expected to take in some mangy mutt as well.’
What kind of person didn’t like dogs? Miranda Redman, evidently – no surprises there, then. Stella wiped down the table and hung the dishcloth over the tap to dry then excused herself to the garden to play with Daniel. Mangy mutt, indeed!
From the garden, where she was busy pushing Daniel on his swing, Stella watched his father through the kitchen window. He was frowning at a piece of paper, then weighing out ingredients with the precision of a pharmacist. He must be planning to ice the cake while the birthday boy was otherwise occupied so she was careful to keep Daniel facing away from the kitchen window.
Almost an hour later, Benedict came outside and Stella raised an eyebrow at him, pointing to some disturbing grey sludge on his cheek, which he scrubbed off with one hand.
‘So,’ she said, almost afraid to ask. ‘How did it go?’
‘Not bad. Not bad at all. I’ve done a reasonable job – it’s just like fixing the walls when they develop the odd hairline crack. I’ve hidden my handiwork in a high cupboard.’
When Daniel raced over to ask his father what handiwork was, Stella grabbed him and threw him to the lawn before lying on the grass next to him and pointing up at the sky.
‘Come on, Daniel, let’s look for space monsters.’
‘Ooh, yes! Daddy, come and help us look for space monsters.’
‘Space monsters?’
‘Yes, Daddy, honestly. Space monsters.’ Daniel pointed to an overhead cloud. ‘Look! ’
‘Um, yes. Right, good one, Daniel!’
‘Daddy, you’re pretending again, I can tell. You have to lie down to see them. Tell him, Stella.’
‘Your son is right, Benedict, you have to lie down to see the space monsters properly. Come on down, the lawn is lovely.’
Benedict folded himself down onto the grass and stared up at the sky.
‘Look, Daddy, look. There’s a good one. Can you see it? It’s got horns on.’
‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘I see it now. You know you’re right, you do have to lie down to see them properly.’
Stella turned to grin at Benedict over Daniel’s head.
‘Does that mean I’m forgiven for being the only dog-hating Englishman in the country?’
‘I don’t know about that,’ she said. ‘We’ll have to see.’
Benedict still didn’t look too sure about the space monsters in the clouds, but it was pleasant lying on the warm grass, with the perfume of roses and honeysuckle wafting over them, surrounded by the gentle hum of insects and chirruping birds. The air rustled through the leaves on the overhanging trees and Stella was struck by how delightful the simplest things could be when there was time to stop and enjoy them. Something she didn’t do nearly often enough.
Benedict pointed to the sky. ‘Look,’ he said, nudging his son. ‘There’s a three-headed, googly-eyed space monster up there, with furry feet! Quick, or you’ll miss it.’
Daniel giggled and Stella snorted at this clumsy attempt at joining in.
‘I most certainly do not have three heads and googly eyes,’ said a woman’s voice, ‘and my feet could never be described as furry.’
Stella sat upright and found herself faced with a bemused Miranda pushing a bike through the gate, its basket and panniers laden with shopping bags. Hessian shopping bags, by the looks of them. Daniel jumped up and raced towards his aunt.
‘Aunty Miranda. Aunty Miranda! Are those my birthday presents?’
‘Certainly not, young man, and you might do well to remember that boys who ask seldom receive.’
‘Sorry, Aunty Miranda.’
‘You’re forgiven as it’s your birthday and you’re excited. Now, will someone kindly explain what the three of you are doing down there?’
Benedict was already on his feet, brushing grass from his clothes. ‘Just doing a spot of space-monster spotting. You’ve sort of met Stella before, in Greenwich. Stella, this is my twin sister, Miranda.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Stella,’ said Miranda, not sounding the least bit pleased. ‘Would you like to give me a hand with this lot?’
Stella got up to lend a hand with the bags. She was not looking forward to this. In the kitchen, she placed the hessian bags on the kitchen counter. It was a relief to put them down as they were remarkably itch-inducing, to say nothing of their strange odour.
‘I’ve fetched some food for tomorrow,’ said Miranda. ‘My brother, if left to his own devices, will feed the guests from packets, boxes and plastic bags.’
Stella watched as Miranda unpacked her provisions and filled the fridge with what looked like half a farmer’s market worth of fruit and veg. She was no expert in children or their preferred party food but was willing to bet her tax rebate that spinach didn’t feature very highly on most kids’ top ten. There again, Daniel had a penchant for broccoli, so maybe his aunt did know best.
‘Miranda, can I ask you something, please?’
‘Can I stop you?’
Stella hated putting herself on the back foot with this woman, but given the sensitivities around today, she didn’t want to burden Benedict .
‘Will your parents be coming today? Only, your brother doesn’t mention them much.’ In fact, he’d never mentioned them once.
‘They won’t be coming, and I strongly recommend that you don’t ask Benedict to open that particular can of worms, especially not this weekend, or at any time, come to that. And you mustn’t mention them to Daniel. As far as he’s concerned, they’re on a round-the-world trip and have been these last seven or so years.’
‘I won’t say anything. Not to anyone.’ What on earth was that all about though? How odd that Daniel had never met his paternal grandparents.
With the subject of her parents closed for discussion, Miranda stood on a step to reach a high cupboard, peered in and pulled out a large, molten-looking grey lump. Turning it this way and that, she frowned.
‘Don’t tell me my brother has been trying to bake?’
Miranda walked briskly towards the gleaming stainless steel bin and placed the toe of one shoe on the pedal to lift the lid, poised to throw the grey lump in.
‘Wait!’ Stella yelped and ran to rescue what she now realised was the cake she’d baked that morning and which Benedict had attempted to decorate. In response to a perfectly groomed and arched eyebrow, Stella pointed out that it was Daniel’s birthday cake. ‘It’s meant to be a spaceship.’ Although the casual observer could be forgiven for failing to notice that, she supposed.
‘There was never any need for Benedict to waste his time. He knew fine well I’d ordered a cake from the organic co-op. None of its ingredients have travelled more than five miles.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Well, at least they hadn’t until just now, but I was coming this way, and it was by bike.’
She retrieved her offering from a hessian sack. The cake had very little to recommend it, apart from the fact that it looked exceedingly high in fibre.
‘It’ll be lovely once it’s decorated,’ said Stella, lying through her teeth. ‘I bought some marzipan this morning, and you’re welcome to–’
‘Marzipan? With actual almonds?’ Miranda inhaled for such a long time, it appeared she might damage a vital organ. ‘You do know that it takes a whole gallon of water to produce a single almond? Eight pints of water for one nut. And don’t get me started on almond milk.’
‘Never touch the stuff,’ said Stella, determined to rescue the situation. ‘It’d be a shame to throw away this cake after Benedict’s worked so hard on it – grey and tragic though it may be. It won’t take me long to tidy it up.’
‘Stella, the only thing that would tidy up this abomination would be a very hungry and unfussy dog, and there’s no chance of any dog – hungry or otherwise – setting foot in this house as long as I’m here.’
‘Well, waste not, want not, eh?’ Before Miranda could slide the cake into the bin, Stella prised the tin from her hands and returned it to the cupboard. No wonder Benedict had seemed so distraught by the burnt offerings the night before.
‘Suit yourself.’ Miranda turned to fill the kettle. ‘I’m making tea, would you like a cup?’
Stella would have preferred coffee but felt she wasn’t being given the option, and also wasn’t prepared to be lectured about the distance the coffee beans had travelled. Probably less far than the tea, come to think of it, unless this woman was planning to brew her own nettle tea or something. But she’d keep that thought to herself in the interests of maintaining the peace since she was only a guest here.
‘Yes please, tea would be great.’ It wasn’t even afternoon yet – what would Benedict think?
‘So, you’re the amazing Stella that we keep hearing so much about? I must say that both Daniel and Benedict appear quite taken with you. Of course, it can’t go anywhere as I hear you’re off to pastures new in a few months. Just as well you haven’t got yourselves too involved. It would be painful for Daniel to be let down, don’t you think? So it’s good that you and my brother are just friends, isn’t it?’
Despite the barrage of questions, Stella felt yet again that she wasn’t being offered the right to reply. The law had been decreed and she was expected to fall in line.
‘Although,’ Miranda said as she placed crockery on a tray, ‘I was rather surprised to hear that you’d been invited to Daniel’s birthday tomorrow, because you know what other day it is, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said Stella. ‘I do, and it will be very hard for Daniel and Benedict.’
‘Not only for my brother and nephew. Anna was my closest friend ever since uni. We met at Cambridge, and I introduced her to my brother.’
Stella groaned inwardly. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘No reason why you should, but it’s not me that I’m worried about. Anna’s parents are very close to Daniel and they always come to his birthday parties. It’s a terrible anniversary for them too, because they lost their only child that day. So you understand my surprise at Benedict thinking it would be acceptable for you to be here. You know, on a day like tomorrow when all of us present will be grieving for Anna. Except you.’
‘I had no idea. I’m so sorry.’
‘No need to be, this is just characteristic lack of consideration by my brother. You seem like a nice girl, Stella, and I know you wouldn’t want to be responsible for hurting two elderly people, would you?’
Stella shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t have come.’
‘Agreed. You shouldn’t have come. Listen, if you want my advice, the best plan for everyone would be if you discreetly made your excuses and went home after lunch.’
While Miranda was a truly horrible woman, she was also probably right.
‘But won’t Daniel be upset that I’ve left?’ Stella was torn between wanting to do the right thing and not disappointing the little boy.
‘He’ll be a whole lot more disappointed when you leave him and move on to your next flat-sitting assignment. Canada, I believe? Best to get it over with now. Don’t you agree?’
‘I hadn’t really thought about that.’ Stella had thought about it but didn’t want to give this harridan the satisfaction. She couldn’t believe she was allowing herself to be spoken to in this way, but now Miranda had occupied the moral high ground, there was nothing to do but surrender.
‘No, I don’t suppose you had thought about that, Stella, and I don’t suppose my brother had either. It’s just as well that Daniel has one sensible adult looking out for him. When you get home, please consider what possible harm you might be doing by staying in his life. Do the right thing and make a clean break.’
With that, Miranda swept out of the kitchen with the tray, leaving behind one cup on the table. A clear message that Stella wasn’t welcome in the garden, so she took her tea over to the window and watched Daniel swinging upside down from his monkey bars. With a sigh, she poured it down the sink, washed and dried her cup, put it away and went upstairs.
Weighed down by a strong sense of regret, Stella knew she had to do the right thing. Miranda was right and staying around would only cause more pain when she moved on. Moving on was what she did. It had been stupid of her to think of getting involved with anyone, let alone someone with a child, and especially one so vulnerable. As painful as it might be for everyone, it was better to go now. It would have been lovely to see Daniel enjoying his birthday, but Miranda was right about one thing: her presence would be a dreadful burden on his maternal grandparents. Even accounting for Benedict’s absent-mindedness, it was odd that he hadn’t mentioned his in-laws would be coming.
She lifted her rucksack down and started to fold her clothes, planning to leave a note making her excuses, along with Daniel’s presents. It was terrible sneaking away like a coward, but there was no real choice. She was leaning on her rucksack, trying to fasten the straps, when there was a tap at the door. Guiltily, she turned around and stood in front of her bag. Benedict came in, took one look at her packed bag and anger flared in his eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Stella in a small voice.
‘You have nothing to be sorry about, and you needn’t think you’re going anywhere either. Unpack that bag at once.’
‘But I have to go back immediately, you see–’
‘Please don’t insult my intelligence with a lie. You don’t have the face for lying – you’re as red as your jumper. Are you going to tell me what my dear sister has been saying to you?’
‘Um. Well, um.’ Stella didn’t want to tell tales, but she didn’t want to lie either.
‘Then you leave me no option.’
He turned on his heel and marched from the room. Stella’s heart sank as he left. She’d really blown things and now Benedict was so angry that he’d walked out on her. She had been planning to call a cab to take her to the station but after this little scene, she didn’t want to hang around any longer than necessary, so she’d walk to the main road and catch a bus instead. The sooner she was gone, the better it would be for everyone.
In the garden below, Daniel continued swinging by himself but there was no sign of his father or his aunt. A door opened and closed downstairs and there were angry words spoken in hushed tones – clearly for Daniel’s sake. It was impossible to hear what was being said, but it went on for some time and ended with the front door slamming followed by the sound of a bicycle being wheeled quickly down the drive. There was a creak on the stairs. Stella held her breath, wondering if she was next to be evicted. Benedict walked into the room, without knocking this time .
‘Apologies for my sister’s behaviour. I’ve sent her packing and if she gives a repeat performance at the party tomorrow, then the same thing will happen.’
‘Your sister has a point though. I don’t want to upset Daniel’s grandparents, or hurt Daniel when I move on, not when he’s lost so much already. Miranda’s right and it’s better that I go now.’
‘Oh, Stella. Anna’s parents will never get over the loss of their daughter. I’ll never get over the loss of my wife. Daniel will never get over the loss of his mother. But life has to go on, and Daniel would be upset if you weren’t at his party tomorrow – you’re his guest of honour, you know. As for when you move on, how about we cross that bridge when we come to it?’
Stella’s head was still telling her to walk away for everyone’s sake, but her heart had ideas of its own, so she nodded.
He stepped back. ‘I’d better go down to check on Daniel. Why don’t you unpack and join us? I’m making some coffee, and we can finish off your broccoli biscuits with it.’
‘All right,’ she said. ‘I won’t be long.’
Feeling a little brighter, she hung up her clothes again, wondering how on earth she’d manage to deal with this dreadful twin sister. Being protective was one thing, but Miranda behaved like an over-zealous bodyguard. But the bodyguard had been exiled for the time being, so Stella would worry about her tomorrow and not before. In the meantime, she’d try to enjoy the remainder of Saturday and let Sunday take care of itself.
Benedict fetched a tray of coffee and biscuits into the garden with a glass of milk for Daniel. As they sat in the sun munching and drinking, Stella noticed the tea tray that Miranda had taken out earlier, abandoned near the shed. Either it was too early in the day for tea, or it had been nettle tea after all .
‘What do you want to do with your day,’ she asked Daniel, ‘on your last day of being six?’
‘Well, when I was in that place with the castle – what was it called?’
‘Durham.’
‘Yes, Durham. It was brill when we went on the river in the boat, but we never got to see any frogs. Can we go to our river and see some frogs, Daddy?’
‘Indeed we can, but we’ll need to decide where to eat. What would you like to do? Have some lunch here or go out somewhere?’
Daniel frowned. ‘I don’t want to do either of those things. Can we have a picnic instead?’
‘We can, little man, but only if you help to make it. Stella, stay exactly where you are. Despite being guest of honour, you’ve never stopped since you got here. Relax, enjoy your coffee and don’t move so much as a muscle while the Redman men prepare a feast.’