Page 27 of The Party Season


  'A long affair?' I ask eventually.

  'No,' he says quickly, 'a very short one. Just a few weeks. Izzy, your mother and I were going through a bad patch.' He takes hold of my mother's hand. She smiles at him and nods, as though urging him on. 'Which is absolutely no excuse for what I did. I just want you to know that there aren't any excuses.' This must be very hard for my usually obsessively correct father.

  'But what did you do?' I persist.

  'Do you remember your mother going away to look after Granny when she had that fall?'

  'Vaguely.' I remember eating lots of dinners from the freezer.

  'Well, I found it very difficult to manage work and you two children as well. Aunt Winnie was with your mother so she couldn't come and help. I didn't understand why Granny needed the two of them there.'

  I nod, wondering when we will be coming to the point of all this.

  'So Elizabeth Monkwell came and helped with supper every night and we became close.'

  'Right,' I say slowly, feeling some sort of response is expected of me.

  'I was up at the main house one day, dropping something off, and Elizabeth and I stood chatting in the drawing room for a few minutes. I don't know how it happened but suddenly we were, er … well, kissing.'

  I wince slightly. I fervently hope I'm not about to be taken through the whole affair step by step. I might need another cigarette. I wonder if they bought any duty-free and if it would be churlish to ask.

  'Where does Simon come in?' I ask suddenly, alarmed by the thought that he may be connected. My time scales are becoming very confused and I start wondering whether we are in fact half brother and sister.

  'Well, one day Simon walked in on us.'

  'He walked in?'

  'Yes. He saw us.'

  'What did he do?'

  'Simply stared at us and walked out again. We were both distraught. Elizabeth went after him but I don't think she could ever get him to talk about it.'

  'What happened then?'

  'I told your mother about it when she got back and we agreed that the best thing for all of us was to leave. I took the next post that came up, which happened to be in Italy, and you went to live with Aunt Winnie during term-time.'

  'And that was it? The sum total?'

  'Yes. That was it.'

  'So did Aunt Winnie know about this?'

  'Yes. We told her because she was trying to persuade us to stay in England because she was worried about moving you from your schools.'

  'What did Simon think? What did he say?'

  My father shakes his head. 'We never knew. As I said, I don't think Elizabeth could ever get him to talk about it. It was just before he went away to boarding school. But we thought that if you were to become close to Simon, you ought to know about it.'

  I nod, trying to get my jumbled thoughts into some sort of order. 'It must have been the end of a summer holiday then. I remember Mrs Monkwell helping me with my birthday card for you. But you didn't move to Italy until the following year.'

  'That was when the next post came up.'

  'But that was the autumn that …'

  My mother leans forward. 'What darling?'

  I stare at her, willing myself to think more clearly. That was the autumn Simon started being so horrible to me. The bullying began slowly but by Christmas it had reached a full crescendo.

  'Simon was quite unpleasant to me for a while. It was during that autumn. It can't be a coincidence,' I say quietly.

  We all frown. My mother says, 'But why would he be nasty to you? Was he nasty to Sophie too?'

  I shake my head. 'No. Just me.'

  My father suddenly looks racked with guilt. 'Why didn't you tell us? We could have stopped it,' he says fiercely.

  'Maybe he was just taking it out on Isabel,' my mother says to my father. My father nods shortly but I can see that he is terribly upset by the idea.

  'But why would he take it out on me?' I ask.

  'Maybe you should ask him,' my mother says gently. 'After all, you're both adults now.'

  I put out a hand to touch my father, who is looking absolutely distraught at this turn of events. He looks up at my touch. 'What a mess, Izzy. I'm so sorry. I had absolutely no idea,' he says softly and takes my hand, which is probably the most physical contact my father and I have had in twenty-six years. It feels peculiar that it should result from something like this.

  I get up suddenly. I need to find Simon and talk to him.

  'Er, Izzy?' says my mother in some concern. 'Are you okay?'

  'Hmm?'

  'Izzy? You're not going funny on us, are you?'

  'Do you think … ? I mean, did Simon think … ?' My words trail off as I will my befuddled brain to make some sense of everything. 'What time is it?' I ask suddenly.

  'Time for a lie down? It's half past twelve,' my father says doubtfully. 'Are you feeling okay?'

  'I've got to go!' I say and walk quickly from the garden.

  'Izzy, we're sorry we had to break it to you like this,' my mother shouts after me.

  I walk backwards for a second. 'I think it might be the best news I've ever heard!' I shout back. 'I'll send Aunt Winnie out!'

  Meg and I jog steadily up to the house, into the kitchen and down the long corridor. 'My parents are in the walled garden!' I call out to Aunt Winnie, who looks amazed. I carry on into the hall and spot Victoria. 'Victoria!' I shout. 'Where's Simon?'

  'In the drawing room. But I really don't think you should …' Her words are lost on me as I make a lunge for the door and burst in.

  A sea of faces stare back at me. I spot Simon as he starts to get up. 'Izzy?' he says doubtfully.

  'Simon, can I have a quick word? In private?'

  He looks startled by the slightly mad-looking woman in front of him but manages to recover well. Such a professional! 'Er, of course you can. Sam, can you take over? Excuse me, everyone, I'll be back in a moment.'

  He leads me from the room and tries the door to the library. Locked. As instructed.

  He tries another door. Locked again. As instructed.

  In frustration, he drags me past Victoria towards the cupboard under the stairs and shoves me inside, pausing only to turn on the light before following me in and closing the door behind him.

  'It's our old den!' I say in surprise.

  'Er, yes. Izzy, I hate to drag you to the point but could you possibly tell me what this is all about?' It is a little awkward talking like this. Two adults can't quite stand up in here and our heads are tilted at difficult angles.

  'They told me, Simon.'

  'Told you what?'

  'Everything.'

  'Who did? Izzy, my neck is starting to hurt.'

  'My parents. They flew over from Hong Kong last night. They told me about your mother and my father.' I try to tone down my elation. 'You didn't want to have to tell me that they were having an affair, did you? Why didn't you tell me?'

  'I nearly did but I just couldn't. You might have hated me for telling you.'

  We stare at each other for a second. I think he's smiling but it's very difficult to tell at this angle. In one swift movement he bends down and pulls out two old wooden crates from a corner. They might even be the ones we used to sit on. The problem is that I've become a little more fastidious in my old age and I'm worried about spiders, Poppet in particular. I don't get to express my preference for standing because Simon pulls me down to sit on one. Luckily he distracts me by taking my hand.

  'In a funny way I hoped you'd never find out,' he says quietly. 'But thank God they told you.'

  'Is that why you were so nasty to me?'

  'God, Izzy, I don't know what to say. I was only thirteen but I was old enough to know about sex and to realise what was going on when I saw them together.'

  'They never actually had a long affair, you know. Just a couple of weeks.'

  'I know that now; my mother managed to talk to me about it when I was older. Long after you and Sophie had left the estate though. If she had kno
wn what I was doing to you she would have forced the issue earlier.'

  'Why did you take it out on me?'

  'I think I saw it as being your fault. I mean, at that age it is very hard to blame adults for anything. They are still these God-like creatures who are always right about everything so I looked around for someone else to blame. Then I remembered that you were the reason your family were at the estate in the first place, something about you wanting to ride horses. So I blamed you for the affair, for my unhap-piness. It seemed completely rational to me at the time. In my mind the reason they had the affair was because our friendship pushed them together. I've often thought about trying to find you to apologise but I never could have told you the reason for my behaviour. And during these last few weeks, as we've started to get to know each other again, I've found the subject of our childhood increasingly difficult to bring up. I didn't know how to explain my spite away and I couldn't possibly tell you that your father and my mother had had an affair. Izzy, I am so sorry.'

  'Simon, don't worry. I know now, that's all that matters. But I've been judging you so harshly for all this time.'

  He shrugs. 'I thought it was better that way, better for you to think badly of me rather than your own father. I felt guilty about treating my oldest friend so terribly but I couldn't see what else to do. It was a sort of punishment in a way.'

  It's almost painful to see this proud and honourable man in so much distress. 'If it hadn't happened this way, we might have remained friends without ever taking it a step further,' I try to comfort him.

  He smiles once more. 'I hadn't thought of it that way. And I suppose this is infinitely preferable?'

  'Infinitely. I would go through that dreadful autumn twice if it means I get you at the end.'

  'I'll make it up to you, I promise.' I like the sound of this. His smile grows even wider and he moves closer. This is obviously our moment, the part where it all comes right. I am painfully aware of him – the warmth of his hands, those gorgeous eyes looking deep into mine. He moves a little closer, bending his face slowly towards me until …

  A loud voice interrupts us from out in the hall. 'In the cupboard, you say? Hell's bells, what are you talking about? What do you mean, in the cupboard? No son of mine would possibly …' And with this the door is thrown open. 'Oh, hello Izzy, Simon,' says Monty. 'What on earth are you doing in the cupboard?'

  'What does it look like we're doing, Dad?'

  'Well, I really don't know. The two of you seem to spend an awful lot of time in small enclosed spaces. Maybe you should see someone about it?' Aunt Flo's face appears next to him. She tugs at his arm. 'Come away, dear. I think they're having a moment.'

  Monty allows himself to be led away and Flo quietly closes the door. We can hear him roaring, 'A moment? What on earth is a moment?' all the way down the corridor.

  The pause gives me time to gather my thoughts. 'Simon, what's happened with the takeover?' I feel appalled that I haven't thought to ask. I take his hand quickly. 'Have you lost the house? You know, it will be fine. We'll manage somehow and—'

  'That was pretty amazing what you did in the press conference,' he says, playing with my hand.

  'What? Made a fool of myself? It's something I'm becoming quite an expert at.'

  'The only person who looked a fool was Rob Gillingham. At midday the board of directors of Wings lost control of the company.'

  'You mean it's all going to go through?' I ask breathlessly.

  'It means that the American bank finally accepted our share offer and sold us their shares. I don't think Wings could persuade them not to after your little barrage.'

  'So you're not going to lose the house?' I ask.

  He slowly shakes his head. 'I hope not. I think I'll be able to persuade the bank to hold off until we have sold parts of Wings and consolidated the rest of the company. Maybe we'll even turn it back into the high-profit company it once was. The Americans have first option to buy back their shares.'

  'How long will that take?'

  'Twelve months at a push, eighteen at the most. None of this is guaranteed but we'll have some money rolling through the company now from backers. Not a lot but enough to live on and get the furniture back.'

  'Are you going to sack lots of people?'

  'Izzy, some people are going to have to lose their jobs because the company isn't making any money. But not as many as the current board of directors would have sacked.'

  'But Rob said they weren't going to make any staff cuts.'

  'He was lying. Let's face it, he's not exactly renowned for his honesty, is he? I'm sorry that I thought you were feeding information to him. I was starting to get paranoid. This takeover meant so much to everyone. I knew as soon as you opened your mouth back there that none of it could be true.'

  He grins at me and my heart prances foolishly around. 'Would Gerald let you work here at the estate?'

  'If I still have a job.'

  'I'm sure you will have when he hears how much there is to be done. I'm thinking about opening the house to the public, a tearoom, some outdoor concerts, that sort of thing. It would be perfect for you. And companies will be queuing up to hold their bashes here after the ball. Then I thought I could retire from the takeover business permanently. Hand over one of the farms to Will.'

  'That would be fantastic. I feel a bit sorry for Will.'

  'Do we have to talk about him?'

  This time he really does kiss me. On and on it goes as we shift position awkwardly on our wooden boxes. He moves one hand to the middle of my back and squeezes me to him. Eventually we break apart and stare at each other. I don't think I have ever seen anyone quite so sexy.

  'Simon, what about this lawyer character I've been hearing about? Are you seeing someone?' I ask suddenly.

  'Not exactly seeing.' I give him a look. 'Oh come on, Izz, I'm not a monk. I can safely say that since you reappeared on the scene I haven't spoken to her, much less seen her. Come on,' he says, hauling me to my feet.

  'Where are we going?'

  'I don't know about you but I need to finish a rather large takeover.'

  We fall out of the cupboard on top of Mrs Delaney.

  We blink in the natural light for a second. 'Mrs D? What are you doing?' says Simon as we all find our feet.

  'Guarding,' she says fiercely. 'Monty and Flo said you were both in here and he …' she points accusingly at Sam who looks petrified ' … wanted to disturb you.'

  'Oh, er, thanks, Mrs D.'

  'You're welcome,' she sniffs and marches off back to the kitchen.

  'Simon, are you coming?' asks Sam.

  'I'll be there in a second.'

  Sam scoots ahead of us, blushing furiously.

  'You know I had my hair cut short for you?' Simon says, as we wander slowly towards the drawing room, hand in hand.

  'Did you?'

  'Yes, I remember you mentioning how much you fancied men with short hair.'

  'You look gorgeous.'

  'Do you think you can put up with my family? I know they're a pain in the arse but they sort of come with me.'

  'I adore your family,' I protest.

  'That's lucky because they will be interfering in this from the off. We will be on constant look-out for spiders, have to share the bed with at least seven dogs and then Harry will pop up in the middle of the night asking for bob-a-jobs.' I giggle. 'I gave Harry fifty quid to tape a kipper under Rob's Porsche's bonnet.'

  'You didn't!'

  'At least he'll win the bob-a-job contest now. We would never have heard the end of it otherwise.'

  'Godfrey Farlington was becoming a little annoying.'

  'This has probably been a bad time for you to give up smoking then?'

  'Actually, I don't smoke.'

  'Really? Would you like a cigarette?'

  'Have you got one?'

  'Ha! Caught you!'

  'No, I really don't smoke. I never have. It was Dom.'

  On cue, Dominic sidles up to us. He is holding out my
mobile phone. 'Izzy, I'm sorry but there's someone who absolutely insists she speak to you.'

  'Who is it?' I ask.

  'Lady Boswell.'

  Simon pauses outside the drawing room. 'Lady Boswell?' he repeats. 'Of the Nordic Ice Feast?'

  Our eyes meet. I always said he could read my mind because he takes the phone from Dominic. 'Lady Boswell? This is Simon Monkwell …' he says smoothly. He squeezes my hand and then the door clicks quietly shut behind him.

 


 

  Sarah Mason, The Party Season

 


 

 
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