Chapter Twenty-Two
September had proved to be one of the warmest on record, but there were signs now that the intensity of the long hot summer was coming to an end.
The light had assumed a gentle golden hue, casting far-reaching shadows across the landscape.
Parched and curled-up leaves on the trees whispered conspiratorially on the warm breeze.
It really had seemed as though autumn would never come, that these endless days of summer and soft cornflower-blue skies would be with them forever.
But change was coming and that made days like this feel such a gift, a chance to take a breath and simply be in the moment.
That was how Venetia felt, dreamily in the moment and wholly at peace as she stretched out her legs on the comfortable sun lounger. She was with Nina on her splendid roof terrace that was furnished with stylish garden furniture and a couple of olive trees in large planters.
Being in the moment was what she had implored Nina to do, to live her life just as she wanted to live it and to hell with what anyone else thought.
Especially that mother-in-law of hers. From all accounts, the woman needed professional help to get over the death of her son.
Maybe some anger management wouldn’t go amiss!
Nina’s father-in-law had apparently tried to help his wife but had bailed out and for the time being, at Nina’s invitation, was staying with her until he found a more permanent arrangement.
Venetia had met him several times since he’d moved in with Nina and had found him to be a very agreeable man.
Nina said he was an easy guest to have around and was even helping at the gallery.
After the summer exhibition at Lavelle’s, Jakob had resigned and had gone to Oslo for a holiday and to consider his future.
Venetia suspected there was more to it than that, but she wasn’t going to pry.
Very likely Nina had shared more with her parents who’d come over from the States for a couple of weeks.
Venetia had met them just before they flew back to the US and had liked them enormously.
It was plain to see that Nina took after her mother in looks, who was tall, slender and elegance personified.
Today Keith was seeing his ‘lady friend’ as Nina coyly referred to the woman with whom Keith had struck up a relationship through an online grief support group.
In his absence, Nina had invited Venetia for an al fresco lunch, during which Venetia had been struck, from this high vantage point, by how little the view of the grounds below them had changed since her childhood days.
She and Lucien often used to climb the rickety fire escape ladder and sneak up here, usually when they had wanted to make a change from going off to the woods to sit and chat. They had lain on their backs counting the stars and whispered their hopes and dreams to each other.
Venetia had thought of Lucien a lot since she’d told Cassie about him; well, in truth she’d thought a lot of him before and since moving here.
How could she not? He’d always been there in the background of her life.
A forever presence. A lingering shadow. She couldn’t quite decide whether coming back to Hope Hall had been an act of closure for her, or more an act of hope, a way to relive the happy times they’d spent together. Before it had all gone wrong.
A dainty sneeze followed quickly by another from Bon-Bon who was curled up on Nina’s sun lounger with her, had Venetia turning to look at him.
‘That dog is such a little tart,’ she said, good-humouredly, ‘he’s so free and easy with his affections.’
Nina laughed. ‘I know perfectly well that I’m a poor substitute for his true love,’ she said, ‘and that’s Cassie.’
Venetia laughed too. ‘Like any male of the species, he’ll take his pleasure where he can.’
Reaching over Bon-Bon for the bottle of wine on the low table between them, Nina tilted it towards Venetia. ‘Top-up?’ she asked.
‘Why not? But only if I’m not outstaying my welcome. I know how busy you are.’
‘You’re fine to stay, it’s Sunday, my official day of rest. Your being here gives me the excuse to do nothing, otherwise I’d be compelled to deal with the VAT paperwork for my accountant.’
‘I’m glad to have saved you from that,’ Venetia said when her glass was replenished. ‘Any time you need the excuse to be lazy, I’m only downstairs. Not that I want you to think I’m one of those awful neighbours who can’t respect boundaries.’
‘You’ve never given me cause to think that you would,’ Nina said, ‘it’s always a pleasure to spend time with you.
And this handsome little chap as well,’ she added, gently cupping Bon-Bon’s head in her hands.
‘I’m still amazed that you’ve managed to get away with concealing him as well as you have. ’
‘People mostly see what they want to see,’ Venetia said. ‘Nobody expects me to have a dog here, therefore I don’t have one. It’s a classic case of hiding in plain sight. And who would suspect a respectable old woman like me of defying the rules?’
‘Who indeed?’ responded Nina, staring off into the distance. ‘It’s always interesting how other people perceive us, and how we perceive ourselves. I’ve thought about that a lot recently.’
‘In what respect?’
Nina swung her gaze back to meet Venetia’s. ‘I feel like I’m in danger of not knowing who I am anymore. One minute I was Hugh’s wife, then I was his widow, now I’m the kind of woman who makes a disgusting spectacle of herself at weddings.’
Venetia tutted. ‘That, my dear girl, if you’re referring to what you told me about your mother-in-law when she went berserk, is blatantly not true!
And you’ll be doing yourself a great disservice if you give an ounce of credence to anything she said.
You kissed an attractive man, who from what I’ve seen of him sees you as a beautiful woman to whom he’s more than a little attracted.
No, no,’ she said, lifting a hand to stop Nina from interrupting her, ‘I saw the way his eyes barely left you the evening of the exhibition at the gallery, and I know what I saw!’
With a light laugh, Nina said, ‘You make him sound like a creepy stalker.’
Venetia smiled. ‘That wasn’t my intention. But my word, he’s a fine chap and I would definitely throw my cap into the ring if I were fifty years younger.’
‘He seems to like an older woman, so don’t rule yourself out.’
Venetia tutted again. ‘Good Lord, am I really going to have to waste my breath disabusing you of the absurd notion that an age gap is of any consequence? Two of my husbands were younger than I was and not for one moment did I let it bother me!’
‘Two? How many were there?’
‘There were three in all,’ answered Venetia, amused at the surprised expression on Nina’s face.
‘And yes, I fully accept that to lose one husband might be considered unfortunate but to lose three smacks of wilful carelessness. They died, if you’re wondering what happened to them, and not by my hand I might add! ’
‘The thought never crossed my mind,’ said Nina smoothly. ‘But I don’t recall you ever mentioning being married before now.’
‘Oh, I’m far more interested in other people. After all, I know everything there is to know about me and my dull old life.’
‘I doubt your life has ever been dull. And it might seem an odd thing to say,’ Nina continued, her hands now fondling Bon-Bon’s ears, ‘but you always give the impression of having travelled through life alone. You seem so self-contained.’ Her gaze slid towards Venetia’s left hand. ‘You never wear a ring on that finger.’
‘Occasionally I do, it depends on my mood and the situation.’ Venetia’s own gaze glanced towards Nina’s left hand. ‘I notice you always wear your rings. Would I be right in thinking you can’t bring yourself to take them off?’
Nina nodded. ‘They’re like a comfort blanket.’
‘I’m sure they are, but do you really need a comfort blanket? Is there not a danger that the rings are anchoring you to the past? Which I can understand you needed in the beginning, but that was then, and forgive me if I’m wrong, but I believe you’re in a very different place now.’
Seconds passed before Nina replied. ‘You’re right, but sometimes I hate the thought that I am in a different place. It feels wrong.’
‘That’s only human. Whatever happens, Hugh will always be with you in your heart; but your happiness depends on you being able to imagine a new future for yourself, which may or may not include a new partner. And there, my dear girl, endeth today’s lesson. Apologies for going on so much.’
Nina drank from her wineglass, her eyes seemingly fixed on a faraway point in the sky.
‘You’re not saying anything I haven’t thought or been told before,’ she said at length, ‘I know what I’m supposed to do, just as I know Hugh wouldn’t want me to be stuck in this …
this awful ninth circle of hell.’ She took another sip of her wine.
Then: ‘Sorry, I’m being overly dramatic and that’s not me at all. ’
‘Or perhaps it is,’ suggested Venetia. ‘Maybe that’s a side of Nina Lavelle that’s never been allowed to reveal itself before now?’
‘Implying I’ve repressed the real me all my life?’ Nina looked doubtful, even a little defensive. ‘We’re getting very deep all of a sudden.’
‘Blame it on the wine,’ Venetia said airily. ‘That and the exquisite beauty of the day.’
‘No,’ said Nina with more than a hint of firmness, ‘that would be a cop-out because actually there’s some truth in what you’re suggesting.
That day of the wedding when I was dancing with Jakob, I felt the real me again.
I felt happy and carefree, like I used to be.
I was Nina. It was the purest and most wonderful of emotions.
Almost, I would imagine, like taking a drug and being high on it, and then came the crash,’ she added with a weighted sigh.