Chapter 36
The Cotswolds
Winter had been and gone. It was now April, and spring had arrived in the Cotswolds. The trees were bursting with leaves once more, the sky was a dazzling shade of blue, and lambs were prancing in the fields.
Sunshine poured in through the long sash windows of Hetherton Hall, and Fen, perched on the edge of an uncomfortable leather sofa, wondered if Hilary and Greville really trusted her not to make off with the pair of Royal Doulton china figurines on the marble mantelpiece.
They could trust her. She wouldn’t want them anyway.
She still wasn’t entirely sure why she was here, but the invitation from the Spencer-Carrs had arrived in the post last week and presumably had something to do with Leon.
So of course she’d arrived on time and been shown into the drawing room by Greville, who informed her she was three minutes early and asked her to wait.
Hilary would be downstairs in due course.
Thirty seconds later, she heard a car pull up outside. Crossing the room to peer out of the window, Fen was glad she had, because there was Jamie stepping out of a brand-new black Audi and crunching his way across the gravelled driveway.
It was good to have a bit of warning, to give her body time to get over its reaction to seeing him again in person for the first time in more than four months.
She took a few deep breaths and willed herself to calm down.
He was looking tanned, wearing a pale pink shirt and dark blue trousers, and his hair was a bit shorter than usual, though it still fell past his collar.
In the distance, the front doorbell rang and was answered.
At three o’clock on the dot, Leon’s parents and Jamie entered the drawing room together, both Hilary and Greville looking noticeably older and frailer than when she’d last seen them, at the funeral.
Fen’s heart went out to them; the months since Leon’s death must have been even harder for them to bear than they had been for her.
‘Thank you both for coming,’ said Hilary when everyone was settled. ‘Needless to say, this was Leon’s idea. He asked me to organise today’s meeting.’ She took a breath. ‘It’s to do with his ashes.’
Of course it had been Leon’s idea. He’d made sure to arrange every detail of his own funeral, so why stop there?
‘OK.’ Jamie nodded. ‘And his plan is . . .?’
‘We couldn’t let you take them before now.
’ Hilary’s voice grew unsteady and she reached instinctively for her husband’s hand as she collected herself.
‘I told him that, back then. But he was right, we can’t keep him here with us for ever.
And now’s the time.’ Her eyes glistened with tears.
‘He wants the two of you to take his ashes to Venice and scatter them in the lagoon.’
Venice . . .
Silence fell, the only sound in the room the sombre tick of the ornate walnut grandfather clock to the left of the fireplace.
Hilary looked at Jamie, then at Fen. ‘We can’t force you to go, obviously. But . . .’
‘If it’s what he wanted to happen,’ Jamie said evenly, ‘then of course we’ll do it.’ He paused. ‘At least, I will.’
Fen clasped her hands together in her lap. More silence. But what other choice did she have? How many times had Leon told her that the week they’d spent together in Venice had been the happiest of his entire life?
How could she say no? And it made sense that he’d ask Jamie to go with her; he’d known she wouldn’t want to do it alone.
She nodded at Leon’s parents. ‘Me too. Of course we will.’
It was a brief meeting, but one filled with emotion. For the first time, Greville shed a tear without embarrassment, and thanked them both in a quavery voice. Then he shook Jamie’s hand before pulling Fen towards him and giving her an awkward whisky-scented hug.
Next, it was Hilary’s turn to embrace first Jamie, then Fen. ‘Thank you from me too,’ she told them both. ‘We’re so grateful to you. I hope we won’t lose touch.’
It was a sentiment that would have seemed unimaginable on the occasion of their first, fairly traumatic meeting, but Fen smiled and meant it when she replied, ‘I hope so too.’
‘I like your hair like that.’ Hilary gave a nod of approval, reaching out to lightly touch her blonde curls.
‘Thank you!’
‘Not so sure about those earrings, though.’
Oh, Hilary, never change.
‘I agree.’ Good heavens, was that a flicker of affection she was experiencing for the older woman? Fen nodded and said gravely, ‘I think they were a mistake.’
Bristol
Three weeks later, forty-eight hours before she was due to fly out to Venice, Fen arrived home from a long-overdue visit to the hairdresser’s to find an unstamped envelope pushed through the letter box with her name scrawled across it in anonymous block capitals.
Ripping it open, she took out a second, smaller envelope. This time her heart gave a giant bump, because the handwriting of her name appeared to belong to Leon, and beneath it he’d added: Yes, don’t be shocked, it’s from me.
Her hands trembled as she unfolded the letter inside, written in blue ink on heavy deckle-edged cream notepaper printed with his parents’ address, and began to read:
Fen (forever my perfect ten),
The worst part of dying is never getting to find out what happens next.
It’s been a year now since we met. Obviously I hope you’re still missing me, but not too much. (And just so you know, if you aren’t missing me at all and have entirely moved on, you wouldn’t have been sent this letter. So if you’re reading these words, I’d like you to pay attention.)
I loved you and I know you loved me too, but you’re allowed to be happy again.
That you and Jamie are going to be scattering my ashes in Venice means the world to me.
Thank you so much for agreeing to do this.
I’d like it to happen on the first day, so once it’s done you can relax, enjoy yourselves. You’ll be in Venice, after all.
OK, this is from me to you, and I might be wrong, but in case I’m right, I want to say this. If you’re holding back on getting involved with someone else because of me, don’t let me stop you. Especially if it’s someone I’d approve of and be happy to see you with. Like maybe Jamie.
There, I’ve said it. Are you laughing right now?
If you have your eye on someone else, that’s fine, ignore me.
But the one thing I never did tell Jamie was how much I loved seeing the two of you together, getting on so well as friends.
To begin with, I’ll be honest, I wondered if I’d lose you to him, until I realised he’d never do that to me.
But now I’m gone (such a weird thing to write!), and if there ever has been a spark between you, I want you to know that I’m all in favour.
I had great taste when it came to choosing a best friend, and you had the best taste in boyfriends, so why not?
The more I’ve thought about it, the more sense it makes.
Jamie needs someone like you, and I think you’d be absolutely right for each other.
Anyway, feel free to ignore all of this if it isn’t relevant. Just wanted to let you know that if it might be, I’ll be cheering you on.
Whatever happens, be happy.
Give my love to Venice. And of course to you, always.
Leon xxxxx
Fen pressed the letter to her chest and exhaled slowly, because she could hear his voice so clearly in every word he’d written, and it was as if he’d known what had been keeping her trapped in a glass box all these months.
But now she’d been given permission to escape the box. If she wanted to.
It was the ultimate act of kindness and thoughtfulness.
She wondered who had delivered Leon’s letter to her door.
His mother?
Father?
One of his many friends?
Then a thought struck her . . .
Had it been Jamie himself?
And if it had been, did he have any idea what was in it?
Surely not . . .
No matter how early you arrived at an international airport, it always came as a surprise to discover how busy it was. The drop-off area outside the main terminal was full of cabs and cars, and trolleys piled high with luggage were being pushed in all directions.
‘Thanks so much for doing this,’ said Fen. Getting up at six in the morning wasn’t her grandmother’s favourite pastime, but Disa had insisted on driving her here today.
‘Don’t be silly, it’s fine.’ Disa slid the car smoothly into a parking space. ‘I wonder if Jamie’s beaten us to it?’
Jamie had been the star speaker last night at a sporting awards dinner in Exeter, and was making his own way up here this morning.
Climbing out of Disa’s car, Fen scanned the faces around them but didn’t spot him.
Flipping open the boot, she began lifting her case out, then lost her grip on the handle and let out a yelp of pain as one of her fingernails snapped backwards.
‘Whoops, can I give you a hand with that?’ The friendly voice came from behind her, and since Fen was now sucking the affected finger with its torn-off nail, she nodded gratefully and stepped back to let him take over.
It wasn’t until the case was safely out of the car that she got a proper view of the man’s face and exclaimed, ‘Oh, hello, it’s you!’
He looked at her for a second before recognition dawned and he broke into a smile. ‘I remember now. We meet again.’
‘Last time you had a horrendous customer,’ Fen reminded him.
‘Ha, I did. The worst.’ He started to laugh. ‘Luckily most of my clients are far nicer.’
‘Hellooo?’ Disa called, buzzing down her window. ‘Is there a problem? Because it costs a ridiculous amount to stay here and—’
‘Sorry, sorry.’ Fen closed the boot with her free hand at the same moment Disa stuck her head out through the open window.
‘Oh my God,’ said the limo driver.
‘OH MY GOD,’ shouted Disa, as Jamie appeared in front of the car. But it wasn’t Jamie she was looking at. Pushing open the driver’s door and almost falling out of the car, she straightened up and stared at Fen’s Good Samaritan. ‘Marcus?’
‘Disa.’ The man shook his head in disbelief. ‘This is . . . Wow.’
‘You’re here on holiday?’ Her voice didn’t even sound like her own.
‘I moved back to the UK two years ago.’
‘You did? Right . . .’ She was visibly shaken.
His own voice softened. ‘You haven’t changed a bit.’
‘Nor have you. Are you here with your wife?’
‘No wife. Still divorced. You?’
Disa straightened her shoulders. ‘Declan died. Twelve years ago.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I can’t believe you’re here.’
‘In this ridiculously expensive drop-off zone,’ he reminded her with a faint smile. ‘Disa, it’s so good to see you again. You have no idea.’
‘Oh, Marcus. Same.’
He held out his arms and Disa flew into them. Their hug went on and on. At Fen’s side, Jamie murmured, ‘Do you know who he is?’
Fen whispered back, ‘No.’
‘Come on. We need to get your bag checked in. I’ve already dropped mine off.’ Jamie reached for her suitcase and wheeled it across the road to the pedestrian pathway.
‘Right, we’re heading inside,’ Fen called to Disa.
Breaking off her embrace with Marcus, Disa came hurrying over and wrapped her arms around her.
‘Sorry, sorry, it’s someone I haven’t seen for years.
He moved to Spain.’ Her eyes bright, she stroked Fen’s blonde curls.
‘Light a candle for Leon for me, will you? And have a good time, sweetheart. I’ll see you when you get back. ’
When Fen and Jamie had disappeared from view, Marcus said, ‘Can I hug you again now?’
‘Yes, please.’ Disa closed her eyes as he pulled her to him once more, and breathed in the scent of him. His neck smelled of Imperial Leather soap with a hint of Eau Sauvage.
‘My client’s going to be here any minute.’
Fen had relayed the story to her of the limo driver and his nightmare passenger.
Disa said, ‘I looked you up online a few years ago. You were living the high life in Marbella with a stunning Spanish woman called Lucia.’ She’d seen photos of them attending a charity ball together.
It wasn’t what she’d wanted to find, but it had told her all she needed to know.
‘And now you’re back here in England working as a driver?
’ Something had evidently gone wrong in Spain.
He shook his head. ‘What can I say? I lost all my money and she left me.’
Her heart went out to him, but he was already breaking into a fond smile.
‘Not really. Lucia was my gardener, it was her sixtieth birthday and I discovered she’d never been to a ball, so I took her to one.
We were friends, that’s all. And the reason I moved back here was to see more of my grandchildren.
Gave retirement a go, but discovered it didn’t suit me, so I set up a limo service and employed a dozen or so drivers.
Which was fine until I realised I envied them because they were getting out and about, having more fun than me.
So a year ago I decided to join them, and it’s given me a whole new lease of life.
You meet all sorts and hear all kinds of stories.
’ He gazed at Disa. ‘If I hadn’t recognised your young friend, you might not have looked out of the car and we’d have missed each other completely. Imagine that.’
It didn’t bear thinking about.
‘She’s my granddaughter.’ He’d seen photos of her as a child. ‘Fen.’
‘Of course, I should have realised. I see the resemblance now.’ He glanced over her shoulder. ‘And here comes my client. I’m driving him back to Almondsbury. Quick, can you give me your number?’
He produced his phone and watched as Disa keyed it in.
‘I’m free this evening,’ she told him. ‘If you are.’
The relief on his face was palpable. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’
‘You knew I would.’ She felt as light as air, like Mary Poppins floating up into the sky. ‘What time do you finish work?’
‘Four.’
‘Can you get to Stoke Bishop by five?’
Marcus nodded, fighting to keep a straight face. ‘Don’t you worry, I’ll make sure I do.’
Back in her car, Disa watched as he chatted with his client, placing the cases in the boot of the Mercedes then holding the door open for the man to slide onto the back seat. And then they were gone.
If she’d stayed in bed this morning and let Fen catch a cab to the airport, none of this would have happened. But she’d done a good thing and it had paid off. Today, karma had rewarded her, big time.
Her heart was still thumping as if she’d run a mile. The fragility of fate was truly terrifying.
How on earth was she going to manage to wait until five?