Chapter 4
Cecilia
Cecilia took the outfit that Kristen had laid out for her and hung it in the closet between her long black coat and a silver evening dress she’d never worn. Instead of dressing for a party and a public appearance, she pulled on a floaty summer dress that was cool and comfortable and covered all the parts of her she had no wish to display. It didn’t really matter what she wore because providing her plan worked, no one she knew was going to see her.
Through the open window she could hear the string quartet playing Mozart and she wished they’d play something else because Mozart made her think of Cameron and right now she didn’t want to be reminded of Cameron.
She checked that her bedroom door was locked, and then pulled out one of her larger suitcases and placed it on a chair.
Part of her couldn’t believe she was doing this.
She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t ever go back to Dune Cottage and here she was packing a case.
Any guilt she might have felt for not attending her own party was neutralized by the knowledge that she’d made it clear that she hadn’t wanted this event to happen. Kristen would just have to handle it, and no doubt she’d do so with her usual competence.
She filled the case without wasting time. Underwear, nightwear, dresses, capri pants and several warm sweaters. Anything she saw, she stuffed into the case. When it was full, she threw the novel she was reading on top of her clothes, along with the birthday gift Todd had given her, and then zipped the case shut.
Now all she had to do was find a way to leave the house without being seen. Fortunately, her car was parked next to the stable block, which was separate from the rest of the house and gardens and out of view of the guests.
What would Kristen say when Cecilia didn’t make an appearance? She’d be frustrated, and then concerned.
Cecilia didn’t want her daughter to worry, so she reached for a piece of paper and scribbled a note.
I’ve gone away for a few days. I think your generation calls it “me time.” Don’t worry about me. I’ll be in touch.
No doubt Kristen would take this as further evidence that her mother had finally lost her grip on reality and needed urgent medical help, but the only other option was not to leave a note and she wouldn’t put it past Kristen to report her as a missing person. The last thing she needed was a search party looking for her.
She placed the note on the bed where Kristen was sure to see it, then walked to the window and looked down into the garden. Crowds of people had already arrived and were enjoying the gardens. She could see Winston making polite conversation with two elderly women who she recognized as being members of a local art society, and there was Todd talking to a young woman who wasn’t Amelie.
Cecilia wondered why Amelie wasn’t coming. She barely knew her, but she’d seemed the type that would have to be half-dead before missing an event like this. And just as she had that thought she saw a car pull up at the front of the house. Amelie stepped out, balancing on heels that surely should have given her altitude sickness.
She stalked across the lawn to where Todd was in conversation, swiping a glass of champagne on the way.
Did Todd know she’d changed her mind about coming?
Cecilia opened her mouth and closed it again. What was she going to do? Shout from the window? She was too far away for him to hear her. And it wasn’t as if Todd was doing anything he shouldn’t be doing. He was talking, that was all. Socializing.
Still, she watched with a sense of foreboding as Amelie finally reached him and then winced as the contents of the glass hit Todd full in the face.
She couldn’t hear what Amelie was saying but judging from her body language and the way her face turned puce as she shouted, it wasn’t anything polite. Heads turned as people tried to locate the source of the commotion.
Cecilia stood still, transfixed by the drama unfolding below.
Two security staff stepped forward and Cecilia saw Todd give a quick shake of his head and gesture to them to stand back. He wiped his face with his other hand and tried to take Amelie’s arm, but she shook him off and said something in reply that made his shoulders tense.
Cecilia’s heart ached for him. She had no idea what had happened between them, but she refused to believe that Todd was to blame. Even if he was, she would still be on his side. She adored him. Whatever he’d done or hadn’t done, she was in his corner.
She scanned the crowd again, wondering if Kristen was aware of what was happening. Cecilia knew how important this event was to her daughter. The last thing she needed was more family drama.
At first there was no sign of Kristen, and then she spotted a swirl of blue and saw her daughter in the rose garden talking to a man who had his back to Cecilia. From Cecilia’s vantage point it didn’t look like a casual conversation. Like most artists she was observant, and there was something not quite right about what she was observing now.
Cecilia squinted to get a better look. Who was it? Not Theo, obviously. He wasn’t coming, and, anyway, Theo was taller than this man, who seemed to be eye level with Kristen. Theo had wide shoulders and slightly messy hair because he could rarely find the time to get it cut. This man had close-cropped hair and was standing really close to Kristen.
As she watched, she saw Kristen reach out and touch the man’s arm in a gesture that could only be described as intimate. He was clearly someone she felt comfortable touching.
Celia found herself repositioning the pieces of the puzzle that had been forming in her head. Kristen’s newly highlighted hair. Kristen’s slim figure and new dress.
And she felt a ripple of alarm because she knew what this was.
She recognized the signs. If Kristen and the unknown man currently standing in her garden weren’t sleeping together yet, they would be soon. And then what? What did it mean?
Cecilia felt shaky.
Kristen, having an affair? Why? Was she unhappy in her marriage? Had Cecilia missed something? Had Theo cheated on her, and this was about revenge? Or was this a delayed reaction to Cameron’s death?
She had a thousand questions and no answers.
Sickness swirled in her stomach because this was a trigger for her. Even after all these years, it was a trigger.
Cecilia took another look out of the window and from her vantage point high up in the house she saw something else. She saw Theo’s car pulling into the long, tree-lined driveway and heading toward the house. No. That wasn’t possible, was it? Theo was at the hospital saving lives. Theo wasn’t coming to the party.
But as he parked and stepped out of the car there was no mistaking him.
And unless Kristen ended her assignation in the next two minutes, Theo was about to find his wife in the rose garden with another man.
First drama with Todd, and now drama with Kristen. Should she stay? She hadn’t thought her absence would make much difference, but now she was wondering.
Should she message her daughter?
She was about to reach for her phone when she saw Kristen appear alone from the rose garden and head toward the area where champagne was being served in long-stemmed glasses.
There was no sign of either Todd or Amelie, who must have disappeared while Cecilia was watching Kristen.
And now that Kristen had moved, Cecilia could finally see the identity of the man she’d been talking to.
She gasped and stepped back so suddenly she knocked her calves against a chair.
No. It couldn’t be.
But it was. She recognized him instantly. And she had no need to ask herself what he was doing here.
Jeff Singer.
And now she knew exactly who had been asking those questions about The Girl on the Shore.
Oh, he was clever. So clever. Cameron had known that and hadn’t trusted him. And he’d been right not to do so. If Cameron were still alive, this man wouldn’t have been allowed to set foot in the place. She hated him, and Cameron had hated him, too.
But Cameron was no longer alive, and the presence of this man wouldn’t raise a single question. He was an art editor, known for his often brutal opinions and blunt commentary. He was famous in the art world, having worked at an auction house and then as an art dealer before following in his father’s footsteps and finding his way into journalism. It was logical that he would be on the invitation list. His presence here wouldn’t be a surprise to any of the other guests, but it was a surprise to Cecilia (the fact that he dared set foot on her property made her blood boil), although it shouldn’t have been because she was acquainted with his ruthless ways and underhand tactics.
The bigger surprise though was the fact that he’d been almost holding hands with Kristen in the rose garden. Cecilia didn’t know what was going on, but she was confident that Jeff Singer’s interest in Kristen had nothing to do with her freshly highlighted hair or newly minted body. Unless she was mistaken, he had a very different agenda.
Did Kristen know that? How well did she know him?
She felt concern for her daughter. What did this relationship mean to her? Was this a fun flirtation or something more? Did she care for the man? Because if she did, then she was in trouble and a world of pain lay ahead.
If she had a closer relationship with her daughter, she might have found a way to steer Kristen away from him.
For the first time since his death, Cecilia wished Cameron were here so that she had someone to discuss this with. Someone to deal with Jeff.
She stood, frozen by indecision. Should she warn Kristen? No, she couldn’t do that without revealing that she’d been watching them. And she couldn’t warn her without revealing secrets that she and Cameron had kept safe for a long time.
And seeing Jeff had put an end to her indecision. She had to leave. She had no choice.
She didn’t want to see him. It said a lot that she preferred the idea of going back to the cottage on the Cape, even though the thought of it made her feel nauseous.
And as for Kristen—she was a grown woman. Cecilia knew that any interference from her would not be welcome and might even push her daughter closer to Jeff.
Right now, Cecilia had more important things to worry about than the state of her daughter’s marriage.
She lifted her case, took a final look at the envelope waiting for Kristen on the bed and left her bedroom. She took the back stairs, just to be safe, and met no one as she walked through the door that led directly to the stables.
Her car was parked where she’d left it, and no one was around to witness her hasty departure.
She drove toward the roughly made track that led through the woodland to the road. Few people knew about this entrance, and it was the perfect way to avoid being seen. Still her hands felt sweaty on the wheel, and she kept expecting someone to stop her.
It was a relief to reach the road. She tried not to think about what was going to happen when they discovered she’d gone. It was possible that Kristen would be so tied up handling the surprise appearance of her husband, or the drama unfolding in Todd’s life, that she might not notice for a while. And when Cecilia’s absence was eventually noticed, no one would know where she was.
She’d stop on the way and pick up some provisions to keep her going for a few days. Cameron had said in his letter that he’d arranged for the place to be maintained and kept ready for guests, so hopefully the place should be habitable.
One of the advantages of Dune Cottage was that they had no immediate neighbors. Early in their marriage it had provided an idyllic escape. She and Cameron would spend their days painting, absorbed by the landscape, their work and each other. They’d walk on the beach, eat lobster rolls dripping with butter and sleep with the windows open, the sound of the ocean filling their heads.
But then everything had changed. And The Girl on the Shore was the reason for that.
He was supposed to have destroyed it.
Did you destroy it, Cameron?
Trying not to think about that, she focused on the road. Even though it had been years since she’d last done this drive, it was so familiar it felt as if she’d driven it yesterday.
She took the historic “Old King’s Highway” which followed the northern coast of the Cape, because she wasn’t in a hurry and was willing to tolerate some congestion in exchange for the scenery and a dose of nostalgia.
She tried not to think about the times she and Cameron had driven this route in those early days, driving with the top down, wind blowing her hair into a tangle.
The road wound its way through Sandwich and Barnstable, past the beaches of Cape Cod Bay and along tree-shaded roads dotted with wildflowers, historic houses and quaint local stores. She stopped in Yarmouth and bought herself an ice cream, and then drove onward to Orleans where she bought a lobster roll and ate it while gazing at the sea.
For a moment she was transported back in time. She was young again and madly in love with Cameron, full of optimism and hope for the future.
The world had seemed like a wonderful place.
From Orleans she headed toward the tip of Cape Cod, past miles of sandy beaches.
She stopped outside a small store to stock up on provisions. She bought fresh bread, milk, berries, thick sliced ham, a mixture of French cheeses and an expensive bottle of white wine. That would do her for now, and she’d figure the rest out later.
She paid and then loaded her bags into the car.
On impulse, she checked her phone, but there was nothing. No missed calls and no messages, which presumably meant that Kristen either hadn’t yet discovered her absence or hadn’t had time to do anything about it.
Knowing that this was the last time she’d have a reliable signal, she dropped the phone back into her bag and prepared to make the last stage of the journey.
She stared straight ahead for a moment, bracing herself for what was to come.
This was the part she’d been dreading. Up until now she’d managed to fool herself that this journey was nothing more than a scenic road trip. An escape.
What was coming next was reality. Cameron was gone, but the farther she drove north the more he seemed alive again. The memories were everywhere and once she reached the cottage, she’d be surrounded by them.
She had a sudden urge to delay her arrival for as long as possible.
Switching off the engine she retrieved Todd’s gift from her suitcase and unwrapped it.
At first she thought he’d given her a notebook, but then she realized it was a planner, the cover inlaid with silver foil, the pattern subtle and beautiful.
A planner, for the year ahead.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. What was she supposed to do with this? She didn’t need a planner for the life she was living.
She opened it and a note fell out. She recognized Todd’s writing.
Take it a day at a time, Nanna.
Her vision swam and for a moment she clutched the planner and then put it carefully back in her bag.
She had no use for it, but she appreciated the sentiment.
Right now, the only day she needed to get through was this one.
Grabbing her sweater, she locked the car and headed toward the beach.
Perhaps what lay ahead would seem easier if she arrived after dark.