Till We Meet Again
‘And later? Did you go back to school? Was anything said?’ Steven asked.
‘Mother was crying most of the next few days. I suppose I just withdrew into myself, I can’t really remember much about that time now. But Father must have felt some remorse because he did say a while afterwards that it was his way of protecting me. He told me that if the men were caught and charged, it would be me who would suffer most in the court case, and whether the men were convicted of rape or not, I’d be pointed at, and the stigma would remain for all time.’
‘I’m sure that didn’t make you feel any better,’ Steven said, still holding her tightly.
‘No, it didn’t. Had he apologized for his harshness that night, it might have been different. It wasn’t until years later, when I saw the process of law in rape cases and what the victim has to go through, that I agreed he had a point.’
‘Did you tell anyone else at the time?’ Steven asked.
‘No, never,’ she said into his jacket. ‘Not even Serena or Robert. Apart from my parents, you are the only person who knows.’
‘That was a huge, terrible secret to be carrying inside you,’ he said. ‘How did you bear it?’
‘By planning my escape,’ she said simply, moving back from his arms. ‘I worked like crazy for my A-levels that spring. University was the way out, and I had to get there at all costs. I told myself that if I failed I’d end up as worthless as my father.’
She laughed suddenly, and Steven looked at her in consternation.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said, seeing his expression. ‘I’m not cracking up, only thinking of the revenge I took on Monty. You see, I didn’t let him off scot-free,’ she went on. ‘After I’d got to university, I made it quite clear on rare visits home that it was only to see Mother. I never said a kind word to him. As he got older and frailer, I’d be as callous with him as he’d been to me. I’d grin at his aches and pains, belittle him in any way I could. I made out that I talked about him in the village, and before long he wouldn’t go there any more. I would whisk my mother away on holiday and leave him to fend for himself. Then, when she died, I told him he was going to agree to go into a home otherwise I’d tell Robert about the rape. That shook him up, he didn’t ever want his son to know. Serena and Robert were astounded that he agreed so readily, and that he told them to sell the house to pay for it.’
Steven felt uneasy then. The man may have been a monster, but bearing a grudge for all those years, then blackmailing an old man, did seem to be extreme. ‘You must let it go now, Beth,’ he said, his mind turning to Susan and what the need for revenge had brought her to. ‘Try and forgive him.’
She turned to him and to his surprise kissed his cheek. ‘I wish I could,’ she said, putting one hand on each of his shoulders and looking right into his eyes. ‘You are the first man I’ve ever been able to open up to, Steven. Don’t you find that sad?’
Steven guessed that she meant far more than that.
‘Yes, it’s sad,’ he agreed. ‘But you are over the first hurdle now by talking about it to me.’
She smiled at him, and for the first time since he’d known her he saw real warmth in her eyes.
‘You are such a nice man,’ she sighed. ‘And you’ve got to get over your hurdle and do something about Anna. Promise me you will?’
‘I will,’ he said, and meant it. He could see now why Susan had admired Beth so much. She was courageous, and he suspected now she’d gone in for criminal law because of a real need to help others. She had managed to turn something bad into something good and noble.
‘And we’ll get Susan off together,’ she said, patting his cheek. ‘And we’ll stay friends?’
‘All for one and one for all,’ he said. ‘And now I must go home.’
Chapter twelve
In the weeks that followed her revelations to Steven, Beth sensed a slight change in herself. Nothing dramatic, but she did seem to be less detached from other people, less guarded, and certainly less pessimistic. She had panicked for a moment or two the morning after her conversation with Steven, terrified he would pass on what he had told her, but as soon as she saw him that day, she detected something in his face which told her he would never betray her trust.
Maybe it was just that which made everything better – she couldn’t remember ever trusting anyone implicitly before. Even as Christmas loomed closer, she didn’t feel her usual dejection. In the lunch hour she shopped for presents for her nieces and nephews and found herself enjoying it. When Serena rang and asked if she’d like to spend Christmas with them, she agreed immediately, without asking first if Monty was coming out of the home for the day.
Fortunately, as she laughingly told Steven later, Serena had gone on to say that he was staying in the home anyway. Beth said her new-found Christmas spirit didn’t quite stretch to welcoming the sight of her father.
As for Steven, he had finally given Anna an ultimatum. To his utmost surprise she didn’t seize the opportunity to leave as he’d expected, but went straight to her doctor for advice. He recommended she should spend a week in a private clinic for drink and drug dependency, and she booked herself into one almost immediately. Now she was back home again, and trying very hard with the help of the AA and Steven to kick drink for good.
Steven was cautiously optimistic. His joy that Anna had chosen to stay with him and the girls gave him hope for both her recovery and their marriage, but at the same time he was aware she was likely to backslide on some occasion. This was the hardest part for him, for although he knew trust was crucial, he found it very difficult not to keep phoning Anna during the day to check on what she was doing.
Beth often found herself moved by Steven’s understanding of human frailties. One day over lunch, which they quite often had together now, she told him that having him as a friend was like switching on another light in a gloomy room. Although they’d both laughed at the analogy at the time, and Steven asked how many watts he was, that was how she saw it. He’d thrown light into the dark corners of her mind.
It was in fact love she felt for Steven, though of course she couldn’t voice that for fear of being misunderstood. It was after all the platonic kind, not romantic. She loved his compassion, the little kindnesses that he bestowed on almost everyone he came into contact with. She had never had a confidant before, never thought she wanted or needed one either. Yet she found it so warming to know she could tell Steven anything, without fear he would repeat it. He confided in her too, and it made her feel valued in a very special way.
She could laugh at herself with Steven, something she’d never done with anyone before either. But above all, discovering she could care deeply for another human being was solace for her soul. She hadn’t believed she was capable of that.
Susan appeared to have settled down in the prison regime. Steven reported that she even seemed to have found a kind of contentment there. Freedom, as Roy Longhurst had pointed out, didn’t appear to mean much to someone who had never really experienced it.
Beth had so many pressing cases of her own that she had only been able to visit Susan once, but Steven kept her abreast of everything anyway. He was awaiting Susan’s psychiatric reports and a reply from his letter to Martin Wright requesting an interview.
As for Roy, Beth hadn’t forgotten about him, but with so much else going on around her, he hadn’t been uppermost in her mind. So when he phoned, just a few days before Christmas, and asked her out to dinner that evening, she was pleased. Just the sound of his deep voice gave her a quiver of unexpected excitement and she agreed without a second thought.
‘I’m really glad you fancy it,’ he said, sounding very relieved. ‘Because I was a bit premature. I booked a table on the Glass Boat just after I last saw you. I knew it would be hell trying to find anywhere half decent in the run-up to Christmas.’
‘So who would you be taking tonight if I was busy?’ she asked, amused that he’d had the foresight to book a table but had omitted to tell her.
‘No o
ne,’ he said. ‘I’d make out I was ill. You see, after I’d booked it, I got the colly wobbles that you didn’t like me and I was afraid to ring you in case you told me to get lost. I’m an insecure person you see. Afraid of rejection.’
Beth laughed and said she’d meet him at eight. After she’d put the phone down she realized that just a few weeks ago such a statement, true or false, would only have irritated her. She was definitely unwinding.
Beth had heard that the Glass Boat was excellent, but she’d never been there before, and as the taxi dropped her by Bristol Bridge and she saw the floating restaurant, with all its lighted windows reflected in the dark water, she suddenly felt ridiculously girlish and thrilled.
She felt she looked good in the new red dress she’d bought for the party on Boxing Day at Serena’s. It was slinky, mid-calf length, with short sleeves, quite plain but for a trimming of red feathers around the scoop neck. As there had been no time for the hairdresser’s she’d washed her hair herself and scrunch-dried it. Though she normally felt wearing her hair loose like a wild black storm made her look like an ageing groupie, tonight it seemed appropriate. She wondered if Roy would even recognize her, having only seen her before with her hair scraped back and wearing business-like suits.
Roy was already nursing a drink in the small bar when she walked in. He glanced up, looked away, and then looked back, his face breaking into a wide smile as he realized it was actually her.
‘Beth!’ he said, jumping up. ‘You look sensational! Utterly gorgeous.’
‘You don’t look so bad yourself.’ She smiled. He was wearing a beautifully tailored dark suit and a dazzling white shirt. ‘How are you?’
‘Overworked, but feeling very festive and jolly.’ He grinned. ‘How about you?’
‘About the same,’ she said, looking around her, and smiled because the Christmas decorations were very pretty and the restaurant beyond the bar looked so stylish yet cosy with its candles and flowers.
It was a memorable night. Most of the other diners were in big parties, but although they were noisy with their party-poppers, crackers and great screams of raucous laughter, it didn’t seem intrusive, only atmospheric. The meal was absolutely delicious, and the service attentive but discreet. Each time Beth glanced out of the window at the river, she was charmed by the illuminated bridge, the many Christmas trees and coloured lights in the offices opposite, and the swans cruising regally by in the inky water.
Roy was such good company too, making her laugh with tales of police blunders, and disaster stories about the building work in his cottage.
‘So I take it the cottage is turning into a real home at last?’ she said eventually, smiling at him.
He nodded. ‘I’ve done a lot recently. But you’ll have to come and see it soon, I’ve even laid a path to the front door so your elegant shoes won’t get plastered in mud.’
By the time they had coffee and a brandy, Beth felt she didn’t want the night to end. Roy was such good company – funny, interesting, intelligent and sexy.
As she watched him walk a little unsteadily to the men’s room, she thought that it was odd she should consider sexiness as an attribute. She was usually very uncomfortable with men with that quality.
As he came back up the stairs she could see he was hiding something behind his back and smirking like a schoolboy.
‘What?’ she said as he stood beside the table looking down at her.
‘You look good enough to eat,’ he said.
Beth giggled. ‘Haven’t you eaten enough for one night?’
‘Da-dum!’ he said, pulling a sprig of rather weary-looking mistletoe from behind his back. ‘Just a titbit will do. One kiss.’
Beth thought he looked adorable as he said this. He had such a soft, smiley mouth, and such lovely dark eyes. She didn’t care if other people in the restaurant were watching, she wanted him to kiss her.
It was the most perfect kiss. Soft, warm lips, lingering just long enough to make her wish she was standing, with his arms around her. One of his hands caressed her cheek, presumably the other was still holding the mistletoe.
A cheer went up from the next table. Beth blushed as she realized it was aimed at them.
‘Umm,’ Roy said thoughtfully as he sat down opposite her again. ‘That titbit was scrumptious.’
All at once the old familiar anxiety came back. He would want to go back to her flat with her, and he wouldn’t want to leave either. This seemed confirmed when later she heard him ask the waiter to order him a taxi. Yet to her surprise when he came back to their table, he bent down and kissed her neck and said, ‘I’ve ordered a taxi. I’ll get him to take me on to Queen Charlton after dropping you off. To get one taxi so close to Christmas is rare, two is an impossibility.’
They had to walk along the cobbled quayside to Bristol Bridge as cars couldn’t get down there, and it was very cold after the warmth on the Glass Boat. Beth had only a fluffy shawl around her shoulders, and she was unsteady on her feet too, but Roy put his arm around her and cuddled her close to him.
The trees on the quayside were strewn with coloured lights, and Roy stopped beneath one to kiss her. Beth seemed to melt against him, losing all her inhibitions, and it was Roy who broke away first, looking down at her upturned face.
‘You are beautiful, Ms Powell,’ he said softly. ‘The Christmas lights are making jewels in your hair, and your mouth is the most kissable one I’ve ever seen. Happy Christmas!’
That Christmas was the best one Beth could remember. But then, perhaps that was partially because of the after-glow from the evening with Roy. They had kissed passionately all the way to her flat, but he hadn’t pushed things by abandoning the taxi and asking to come in. The next day he sent her a lovely Christmas flower arrangement, with a note thanking her for a wonderful evening. He wished her a happy Christmas and said he would phone when she got back.
He had struck the perfect balance. Keen, but not so pushy it made her nervous. She left Bristol at midday on Christmas Eve, and despite her conviction there would be traffic jams right around the M25, the roads were quiet and she reached Brightling, the village near Battle where Serena and her family lived, by half past five.
When Beth had worked in London, she’d seen Serena at least four times a year, usually staying overnight. But since moving to Bristol she’d only visited her once, and she sensed that her sister felt hurt by this, even though she knew what a long drive it was. So Beth half expected Serena to be cool with her, at least for a while. But it hadn’t been that way.
She got a joyous welcome from Serena and her husband, Tony. Beth’s two nieces, Becky and Louise, aged eighteen and sixteen respectively, acted as if she were visiting royalty, escorting her to the little guest-room, helping her unpack, and admiring her clothes and shoes with wild enthusiasm.
Serena was well named, for she was serene. She was beautiful too, and had been from childhood. Her hair was dark and curly just like Beth’s, but she had always worn hers cut short, and it emphasized her big, dark, smouldering eyes which were said to be inherited from their grandmother. She was fortunate too that her skin was olive-toned, not pale like Beth’s.
Even at fifty-four, with quite a few grey hairs, wrinkles round her eyes, and her once slender shape becoming matronly, Serena was still a head-turner. She wore loose flowing clothes in vivid colours and ethnic chunky jewellery, which gave her the appearance of an exotic flower. But on top of her looks, Serena was a very social person, and a great organizer. Not only had she decorated the cottage so it looked like Santa’s grotto, she’d laid on enough food for the Third Army and planned a full itinerary for the next three days.
It started as soon as they’d eaten supper, when they went out for drinks at a neighbour’s, then on to the midnight service at Brightling church. Christmas Day began with Buck’s Fizz while they opened their presents, and at midday when Robert, his wife Penny and their two young sons Simon and Edward arrived, several neighbours came in for pre-lunch drinks.
&n
bsp; So it went on, people coming and going, visits out to other neighbours, right through till Boxing Day evening when Serena threw her customary big party. As always, Beth was amazed by Serena’s ability to serve food and drinks to scores of people, including a small army of children watching videos upstairs, and still remain unflustered and looking beautiful.
Yet it was the third day of the holiday that meant the most to Beth. Tony took Becky and Louise to Brighton in the morning, so Serena could spend a few hours alone with her sister. They sat in the sitting room by the fire with their feet up and relaxed.
‘You seem very much happier,’ Serena said at one point. ‘Relaxed and cheerful. Is it the job or a man?’
As Serena was ten years older than Beth, their relationship had often seemed more like aunt and niece than sisters. Serena had left home at eighteen for much the same reasons as Beth, but she was always very anxious about leaving her younger sister to bear the brunt of their father’s bad moods. She did her best to make up for her absence by giving Beth clothes and other little gifts, and she had always stood up for her. Yet even now, at fifty-four, and her younger sister a successful solicitor, Serena still carried a burden of guilt. To her the fact that Beth hadn’t married and had children of her own was a reflection on her inability to do more for her as a child.
Beth knew this and it added to her own inner sadness sometimes. Serena was an earth mother, she poured out love unstintingly, not only on her husband and children, but on friends, neighbours and just about anyone else who crossed her path. She did everything with love – work, decorating and furnishing her cottage, arranging the flowers in the church, even visiting their father, who didn’t deserve a moment of her time. Beth thought she would give her sister what would be her idea of the most perfect Christmas present – to hear her younger sister was happy and fulfilled.
‘The job and a man,’ Beth said with a big grin. ‘I love it in Bristol, I’m really happy there, and there’s a romance blooming.’