The Postcard, page 17
Simple Tony looked confused. ‘Can you? Where?’
She smiled again and pointed to her forehead. ‘In here. In my imagination.’
‘Oh.’ He gave a little shiver. ‘I don’t like imagining.’ Then his face brightened. ‘But I do like dreaming.’
‘Oh, so do I,’ said Penny.
Tony lifted Jenna out of the barrow and put her on the lawn. Then he tipped the barrow on its side and sat in it like an armchair. Jenna loved it when he did this and she clapped and ran to squeeze in next to him. Penny offered him a sandwich and as he munched he said, ‘Sometimes I dream about the time Alan Titchmarsh came to judge the show.’
‘Ah yes,’ said Penny, smiling. ‘That was an unforgettable day.’
‘I can’t forget about it. That’s why I dream of it,’ said Simple Tony.
Penny agreed.
The three of them sat in companionable silence listening to the sigh of the breeze in the trees. Penny closed her eyes and listened for other sounds. Sometimes, if the wind was onshore, she could hear the waves of Shellsand Bay. She strained her ears. No, no sea today, but there was the sound of a car, quite sporty she thought, in the distance. It slowed as it entered the village then moved on at a low speed, coming towards her side of the village green. It was definitely coming nearer. It passed the vicarage and stopped somewhere near Marguerite Cottage. The engine idled, then there was the rasp of gears clashing and the whine of it reversing back. It stopped again and turned into the vicarage drive. The engine was killed. Penny held her breath to hear better. The car door creaked open and then shut. Footsteps crunched on the gravel. There was a pause. Then the knocker on the front door thumped hard.
Simple Tony and Jenna looked at Penny questioningly. ‘Now who’s that?’ asked Penny.
She got up, brushing breadcrumbs from her lap, and walked around the outside of the house. Before turning the final corner and revealing herself, she stopped and hesitated. She didn’t like surprise visitors.
She heard a small cough and another thump of the knocker. Staying as close to the wall as possible she peeked around the corner and saw a scarlet MGB roadster in the drive. The roof was off and a suitcase plus other luggage was jammed on to the narrow jump seat. She craned her neck a little further to get a view of the porch. What she saw made her heart stop. It was Margot, her mother. She whipped her head back out of view, shivering with shock. She took another look. The familiar slim figure with her silver-black hair pinned into an elegant pleat, stood with her back to Penny. She was becoming impatient and, as Penny watched, Margot stepped over the milk bottle holder on the step and peered into the nearest downstairs window. She tutted and turned back to the door. Now Penny saw the face clearly. This was not Margot, but Suzie.
Penny, her heart bumping hard against her ribs, crept back to the garden. She beckoned to Simple Tony.
‘There’s someone I’m playing a game with,’ she whispered. ‘They’ve come to see me but I want to pretend I’m not here.’
Simple Tony nodded. ‘Hide and Seek?’
‘Yes,’ smiled Penny encouragingly. ‘We three are the hiders and she’s the seeker, but she mustn’t find us. OK? We must be very quiet until she goes away.’
They didn’t have to wait long. After one more impatient knock on the front door they heard the car door open and slam again and the gears angrily crunching into reverse. After a few more seconds the roar of the engine ebbed away, heading in the direction of Trevay.
A horrible dread settled over Penny. The sun was still shining and the garden was still glorious, but she was seeing it all through the familiar veil of tiny black spots that danced around inside her head. The three of them had been huddled behind Simple Tony’s wheelbarrow. He was now standing up and helping Jenna who was giggling. Penny got to her feet and stumbled as the ground tilted beneath her. Simple Tony held her arm to steady her. ‘You all right, Mrs C? You look awful pale. My mum would say you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’
Penny gripped his hand. ‘I just feel a bit faint. Maybe it’s the sun. I think I’ll go and sit down inside for a minute.’ The old panic started to flood back. Why was Suzie here? What did she want?
‘I’m going to check on the churchyard. See if it needs mowing. Grass is starting to grow again,’ said Tony. ‘Mind if Jenna helps me?’
‘No, that’s fine. I’ll just be in the kitchen.’
She sat in her chair at the big table and pressed her hands over her eyes. Had that woman really been Suzie? She looked so like Margot: the set of her shoulders, the expression that always signified life’s unfair treatment of her, the ridiculous peep-toed shoes that Margot had so admired on the late Princess Margaret.
If it was Suzie, what did she want from Penny? Penny had nothing to give. After that terrible, final lunch she hadn’t heard from them again until Suzie had sent the news of Margot’s death. But if Suzie thought that Penny owed her something, then she was quite wrong. It was surely the other way round. Maybe that was it. Maybe she’d come to give Penny something of her father’s? Penny had nothing to speak of: the little Christmas book was it. No watch or photo album, no signet ring or other small memento.
No, Suzie wouldn’t come all this way to give her something. She was here to take something, but what?
A shadow fell across the kitchen door and Penny took her hands from her eyes.
‘Hi,’ said Helen, carrying a supermarket bouquet of white lilies, ‘I’ve brought you some flowers.’
Penny pushed her chair back with a scrape and rushed to Helen’s arms. ‘Thank God you’re here.’
‘What’s the matter?’ Helen was frightened by the look on her best friend’s stricken face. ‘What’s happened? Oh God, have you taken too many pills again?’
Penny was shaking. ‘No. Nothing like that. But my sister Suzie was here, at the front door. We hid from her.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t want to see her.’
‘Calm down, sweetie. Let me put the kettle on and you can tell me exactly what has happened.’ Helen put the lilies on the draining board and filled the kettle.
‘She scares me,’ said Penny. ‘What the hell is she doing here? Why has she come to find me?’
Helen swirled some hot water round the teapot before filling it with teabags and hot water. ‘Maybe she wants to make friends with you again.’
‘Why would she want to do that?’ Penny remembered the warning look on Suzie’s face when Margot had spilled the beans over the lunch table.
‘She’s feeling guilty. New year, new start and all that jazz.’ Helen handed Penny a mug of tea. ‘Got any biscuits?’
‘In the tin.’
Simple Tony and Jenna appeared at the back door. ‘I’m off now, Mrs C. Thankee for the drink and sandwiches. Tell the vicar I’ll mow the churchyard tomorrow. See you next week?’
Penny stretched her face into what she hoped was a smile. ‘Yes, lovely. Thank you so much.’ Jenna waddled towards her with a broad smile and muddy hands and knees.
Helen intercepted her with a biscuit and lifted her onto her lap. ‘Now, Jenna, Mummy’s telling me a story. So you sit here and we’ll listen.’ Helen had a bite of her own biscuit. ‘You shared a father, after all.’
‘Yes. And he was a good father to us both. Before he died it felt like we were a family, but afterwards Margot insisted I went to boarding school. She said looking after two children in a small house was too hard. My father’s parents helped with the school fees – they lived in Wales and we barely saw them. In fact, after Daddy died I don’t remember seeing any of the family again.’
‘Did Suzie go to boarding school when she was old enough?’
‘No. Suzie had separation anxiety or something and she had to stay with Margot.’
‘That was tough on you.’
Penny reached towards Jenna and stroked her face. ‘Well, Jenna is going to have as loving and stable a childhood as I can possibly give her.’
Helen patted Penny’s arm. ‘You’re doing it right now.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Bloody hell, I’m late. Piran is cooking me supper at his tonight. I haven’t seen him all week.’
‘You’re lucky to have him, even though he’s a moody old bastard,’ Penny smiled.
‘Yes,’ said Helen, lifting Jenna to Penny. ‘And you are lucky too. We’ve both found kind men and contentment.’
Penny kissed her best friend. ‘Thank you, Helen, for listening. I feel a lot better now. I kind of panicked. God knows why. It’s only Suzie. She’s not Beelzebub come to cast us to damnation.’
‘Exactly,’ laughed Helen, ‘she’s only your sister.’
21
She didn’t mention Suzie’s visit to Simon that evening, or the next morning. There didn’t seem to be a right moment and they were getting along so well she didn’t want to throw another scary spanner into the works. She would be seeing Adam in a couple of days anyway and would tell him. Her acupuncture sessions were turning into counselling sessions as well and Adam was a good listener and offered sound advice. She put Suzie firmly out of her mind.
Clearing away the breakfast things she chatted to Jenna. ‘It’s a lovely day today. Shall I put some washing on?’
Jenna banged her bowl on the table of her high chair and blew a raspberry.
‘I think you’re right,’ said Penny, wiping the crumbs from the breadboard. ‘It is a gusty day. I might do my sheets and towels. They’ll dry well, won’t they?’
‘Mumumumumuma.’
‘Do you want to help me?’
Jenna’s fingers went to the buckle on her harness and pulled to get out. She shouted in frustration.
‘OK, OK. Here I come.’ Penny threw the dishcloth into the sink and got her daughter out of her chair. ‘Come on. Does Teddy need a wash too?’
Jenna shook her head. The last time Teddy had been in the washing machine, Jenna had been heartbroken to find him pinned by his ears to the washing line.
Upstairs, Penny began collecting up towels, socks and shirts, tossing them all into a pile on the landing. She went to Jenna’s room and stripped her cot then remade it with fresh sheets. Jenna dragged a book from her bookshelf and climbed onto the nursing chair to look at the pages.
‘Would you like me to read that book to you or are you happy to read to yourself?’ Penny asked.
Jenna dropped the book and pointed to Penny. ‘Mummma.’
‘OK.’
Penny and Jenna sat together enjoying the pictures and the story of a little goose that was hatching her eggs. ‘How many chicks will the Mummy Goose have, Jenna?’
Penny took Jenna’s little hand and moved her finger over the eggs. ‘One, two, three, four, five! Five little chicks. What a lucky Mummy.’ Jenna began to yawn. ‘Is my little chick getting tired?’ asked Penny. Jenna valiantly fought sleep for another couple of minutes then eventually went limp. Penny popped her in to the fresh-smelling cot and left her to her dreams.
Back in her own bedroom, Penny began to strip the sheets from the big bed. As she tugged at the bottom sheet she felt something drop on to her foot. She looked down. A postcard was sticking out from under the divan. She tugged it and noticed a letter with it. She recalled Simon giving them to her ages ago. She picked them both up and sat on the edge of the bed. She chose the postcard first with its picture of the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. She turned it over to read.
Darling Penny,
Having a glorious time. Been playing (and winning!!!) at bridge almost every night. The boat is full of Americans who simply love the Mr Tibbs series. I knew it was big here, darling, but not how big! It’s huge. They keep begging me to write more stories but I have explained to them that it is impossible. Although I did wonder about a finale for a few mad minutes, a last episode, tying up all loose ends … then I had a gin and tonic and pulled myself together. Haha! Oh, the steward is calling me to dinner. Keep in touch.
With very fond regards,
Mavis
Penny read it again. A big final episode would be a great idea. Amateur detective, bank manager Maurice Tibbs and his secretary-cum-sleuthing sidekick Nancy Trumpet could finally declare their love and be married. A huge and dazzling wedding with guests who had appeared in previous episodes, even some of the villains who had done their time and returned to society as upright citizens, could be there. There had to be a crime committed too, or maybe Nancy would get kidnapped and held to ransom by a desperate individual who needed the money to pay for his daughter’s heart operation. Penny stopped her frenzied imagination right there. Mavis was not going to write any more of anything. She put the postcard on her dressing table and reached for the letter.
She might not have seen the handwriting for a few years but she immediately recognized it was Suzie’s. This must be the letter she’d told Simon, on the phone, that she would write. Penny’s hands trembled and her heart began to race.
She needed a drink.
In the kitchen she went to the fridge and took out last night’s bottle of rosé. She collected a glass and began to pour. As she lifted the drink to her lips her eyes caught the kitchen clock. Ten twenty. She hesitated then walked to the sink and tipped the wine down the plughole. She thought of how flattered she’d been when Adam had told her how much better she looked since she’d cut back on drinking. She lifted Suzie’s envelope from the table. ‘You are not going to get under my skin,’ she said.
She walked to her office and opened the big sash window to the garden. The breeze pushed good clean air into the neglected room. She took a deep breath, sat at her desk and opened the letter.
Dear Penny,
My last email must have come as a horrible shock. Is that why you haven’t replied?
I am in the depths of terrible grief and miss Mummy so much. I don’t suppose her death has affected you as badly. Of course, when Daddy died we were both too young for it to mean very much, but now I know all too keenly what it is to be an orphan.
I am pleading with you to look kindly on me and take me in to your heart as your sister. You are my only family now.
Life has been very hard for me. I was not able to leave Mummy as you did. You were always impulsive. Boarding school made you so very independent, almost impetuous, Mummy said. And when you left for London and the BBC you never really looked back, did you?
It was always a red-letter day when you came to see us. Mummy would have me cleaning the house for days before your arrival, writing out recipes, getting the shopping in, cooking. I could have resented you and your life, your freedom. But I didn’t. To me you were just my sister.
Dealing with the funeral arrangements was dreadful. I had no idea of the expense! Then winding up her affairs, the bank and the will and so forth has been absolutely draining. The house is now on the market and the contents sent to charity or auction.
So you see, not only am I an orphan at forty-two, I am also homeless and single. Where else would I head but to my sister? If she’ll have me …
I shall be coming to Trevay in the New Year when the house sale is complete, although it very much depends on the auction date. I shall be staying in a small hotel that friends have recommended. I’m told it has sea views. I haven’t seen the sea for such a long time.
I shall come to find you as soon as I arrive.
With fondest love and the greatest hope,
Suzie
*
Simon read the letter without any comment. Penny watched him carefully but he betrayed nothing. His eyes scanned the words to the bottom of the page then returned to the top and reread.
After the second reading, he put it down on the kitchen table and polished his glasses, a sure sign that he was thinking carefully.
Penny was impatient. ‘What do you think? Isn’t she ghastly? What does she want?’
Simon spoke, ‘She wants her sister. You are her only family and she wants to reconnect with you.’
Penny gave a sardonic laugh, ‘Ha! Doesn’t she just. But I don’t want to connect with her. She wants something other than just a sister.’
Simon rubbed his eyes. ‘Why do you think the worst? Why not take her at face value? She’s trying to reach out to you.’
‘You should be on my side,’ said Penny truculently.
‘I am on your side. I know you have been deeply hurt but this is a chance for Suzie’s redemption. I think she wants to make amends.’
‘Margot told me that I wasn’t her daughter and that Suzie had known for years. And that hurt. Then we had Jenna and I was so glad that she’d never be infected by them and their stupid lies.’ Penny began to cry. ‘It’s just shit, that’s all. I was so homesick at boarding school and I missed Daddy so much. ’
‘No wonder you became so self-sufficient. Such an independent woman.’ He stroked her hair.
‘And when I left school, Margot said I couldn’t come home. I had to get a job and look after myself.’
‘And you did. Rather spectacularly.’
‘And I tried to get them to be proud of me. I gave them lovely treats and shared my success but it only made them despise me more.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true.’
‘It bloody well is.’ She wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘And just as I’d decided to move on with my life, she’s here, and I feel I’m back to square one. She frightens me. I have a bad feeling about her turning up. Why does she want to play happy families now?’
‘Because she’s your sister.’
‘Half-sister.’
Simon stretched for the packet of wet wipes on Jenna’s high chair and gave one to Penny to wipe her face. She did so, pushing black rivers of mascara over her cheeks.
Simon looked at the postmark on the envelope. ‘It’s dated December twenty-second and it’s now February so I think we might be hearing from her soon.’
Penny blew her nose on the wet wipe and said, ‘There’s something I didn’t tell you. She came the day before yesterday.’
22
At that very moment Suzie was in Trevay, sitting in the spa of the Starfish hotel. A pretty therapist with a glossy ponytail and immaculate make-up was rubbing away at the hard skin on the soles of Suzie’s feet.
