Mara's Choice Read online

  ‘Someone must be holding a surprise birthday party,’ he said. ‘If there’s no one else at home next door, you may as well stay for a while, because from what I hear, we’ll get no peace till the party ends. My mother said once or twice that parties were the main downside of living here because of the noise.’

  As if to prove him right, loud music started up, thumping away, and he rolled his eyes. ‘If it’s late enough for a party, it’s definitely late enough for a drink. I’m having one whether you join me or not.’

  She gave in. ‘I don’t know how late that needs to be, not being Australian, but I’d certainly enjoy a glass of wine.’

  ‘Good. I’m Hal Kendrell, by the way.’

  ‘Mara Gregory.’ She took the hand he was offering and a shiver ran through her. He was, after all, very attractive. No, she shouldn’t even think about that sort of thing. She was only here for a few weeks and he was recently bereaved.

  ‘Do please sit down and I’ll open the wine. I feel like celebrating anyway.’

  ‘Did something nice happen?’

  ‘Not exactly. But I started clearing my mother’s office today. I’ve been avoiding it since I got here a few days ago and feeling guilty about that, but I managed to get my act together today at last.’ He stared into the distance. ‘It side-swiped me, my mother dying so suddenly. I didn’t know she was ill, even.’

  ‘Maybe she wanted to be on her own. Some people do.’

  ‘Knowing her, she probably did, but I’m an only child and I’d have liked to say a proper farewell to her. She even had the funeral without me, if you can call it a funeral with only her lawyer present to supervise the cremation.’

  ‘That must have felt hurtful.’

  ‘Yes. Though it’s typical of her. She’s never conformed to other people’s ideas of what’s right.’

  ‘Neither has my mother. It can make life difficult.’

  ‘You might have heard of my mother – Claudia Kendrell, the poet.’

  ‘I was going to say I’m sorry about your loss, and I am, but it’s the world’s loss, too. I absolutely love your mother’s poetry, especially the Winter Days collection.’

  He beamed at that. ‘You’ve read it?’

  ‘Yes. I own all her books.’

  His voice became choked with emotion. ‘That’s wonderful. What’s more you’re reminding me that something of her will live on.’

  ‘Definitely. She was a wordsmith of some note. You must have been very proud of her.’

  ‘I was – am, I mean.’

  He poured more wine, trying to wipe his eyes without her noticing, which made something warm twist round inside her. He came across to hand her a glass then went back and fumbled in the cupboard, producing a packet of crisps. ‘I don’t have any fancy nibbles to offer you, but we ought to put something in our stomachs.’ Then he grinned. ‘Besides, I love salt and vinegar crisps.’

  He tipped them into a pretty glass bowl and put it on a small table between them. ‘Voilà, madame. Your gourmet snack.’ Then he picked up his glass and held it out towards her. ‘Cheers.’

  She clinked hers against it. ‘Cheers back at you.’

  The wine was smooth and left a nice aftertaste. They both sat quietly while noise from the party continued to echo across the water. It didn’t seem desperately important to rush into conversation; it was nice simply sitting with someone congenial.

  He leant back in the chair. ‘I have another thing to celebrate: I’ve just retired.’

  ‘You’re a bit young for that, surely?’

  ‘Well, it’s been part of my life plan to semi-retire quite young, so I’ve been concentrating on making money. I’m not rich, mind – you need far more than I have to call yourself rich these days – I’ve just got a sound basis for a quieter life. I was going to take a sabbatical for a while and work out what to do with myself during the next stage, but as I now have what my mother left me as well, I won’t have to work at all if I don’t want to. Imagine that: I can do exactly what I want for the first time I can ever remember since I left university.’

  ‘I envy you that lack of financial pressure.’

  ‘What do you do for a living?’

  She shrugged. ‘Nothing at the moment because I’ve recently been made redundant. I used to work for a toy company, on the IT systems and so on.’

  ‘Sounds interesting.’

  ‘It had its moments, but I didn’t always agree with what they did and the illustrations they’ve been using recently from a new artist were bizarre, if you ask me. Why the new man always has to make the characters look like ugly caricatures of human beings I do not understand. Why can’t they offer kids beautiful scenes and people sometimes?’

  She tried to take another sip and was a bit embarrassed to realise that her glass was empty already.

  He picked up the bottle, gestured with it and, at her nod, refilled both their glasses. ‘Are you related to the Buchanans? You have a distinct resemblance to Aaron next door.’

  She felt comfortable enough with him to tell the truth. ‘He’s my birth father. We just found one another. My mother had always told me he was dead.’

  ‘Wow. Truth can be stranger than fiction sometimes, can’t it?’

  She sipped again, relaxing, finding him the easiest person to chat to that she’d met in ages. She’d not expected that with this neighbour because Emma had said he seemed as reclusive as his mother. ‘I hope I’m not taking too much of your time?’

  ‘No. I’m enjoying your company. You don’t fill the silences with meaningless chattering.’

  ‘I like that about you, too.’

  The party noise erupted again and they both grimaced. Then it died down and he chuckled suddenly. ‘The silence probably means they’re feeding their faces now. Food usually shuts people up.’

  She laughed too. ‘You’re so right. And I’m as guilty of it as anyone. I enjoy my food.’

  ‘What’s your favourite cuisine?’

  They discussed that and agreed that they were both addicted to various sorts of Asian food, then they enjoyed another few more moments of silence.

  She was sorry when she heard noises next door. ‘Ah. I think Aaron and Emma are back. They’ll wonder where I am.’

  ‘Do you think they’d like to come in for a drink?’

  ‘Not today. They’re having trouble with their daughter.’

  ‘She certainly shouts a lot, doesn’t she?’

  ‘Tell me about it. The atmosphere has grown very fraught at times.’

  ‘You, on the other hand, are one of the most peaceful people I’ve met in ages.’

  She immediately felt guilty. ‘I shouldn’t have stayed so long, though.’

  ‘On the contrary. There aren’t many people I feel comfortable sitting quietly with, but you definitely haven’t outstayed your welcome.’

  ‘I’ve enjoyed your company too.’

  ‘We should do it again sometime. Um, how about you come out for dinner with me tomorrow evening?’

  She looked at him in surprise. It was the last thing she’d expected. ‘Well, if you’re sure? I don’t need paying back for helping you, though.’

  ‘I’m sure I want to take you out and spend more time with you. Our outing won’t be to pay you back for your help, though, I promise.’

  ‘Then I’d love to come.’

  ‘Do you prefer to eat early or late?’

  ‘Early by choice, but I’ll fit in with you, Hal.’

  ‘I like to eat early too. Do you have any food problems?’

  ‘None at all.’

  ‘That’s great. I know people don’t get food problems on purpose but they do make social life difficult when you first get to know them.’

  ‘Yes. Till you understand their needs. Then it’s OK. I blame it on the chemicals that seem to be added to nearly every foodstuff manufactured. The first time I found out that strawberry flavouring had no connection whatsoever with strawberries I felt absolutely outraged.’

  ‘You’d
have got on well with my mother. She felt very strongly about that sort of thing.’

  ‘I’m sorry I never met her.’ Mara turned her head as Aaron called her name and stood up, calling back and waving to him. ‘I’d better go.’

  ‘Rendezvous outside my garage around six p.m. tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, kind sir.’ She gave him a mock curtsey then went back home. Only it didn’t feel like home. Her parents’ house hadn’t either. She still missed her cosy little flat, or maybe it was just the peace and quiet she’d had there.

  Oh, get over it, she told herself. You haven’t got a home at the moment but you do have a very elegant roof over your head and a second father – not to mention a rather attractive neighbour.

  She even had a date for the first time in ages. And with a man she fancied greatly.

  Aaron and Emma looked relieved to see her.

  ‘Sorry we’re late home. We met some friends and had a drink after our walk. We tried to phone you to let you know, but there was no answer. No wonder, if you were schmoozing next door. What’s he like?’

  ‘Charming.’ While Emma put together a quick salad, Mara told them what had happened. They were astonished at the near break-in.

  ‘Well done for stopping it,’ Aaron said. ‘We’d better be even more careful about locking up our place in future, then.’

  ‘It’s usually Peggy who forgets,’ Emma said. ‘Oh dear, that’s yet another thing that’s going to cause trouble between us.’

  Mara couldn’t see why locking up carefully should upset anyone, but kept her thoughts to herself. She’d been brought up to lock every external door in the house carefully, even when she was pottering about at home, and never, ever to leave a window open when she went out.

  That reminded her that her father still hadn’t replied to her emails, which was starting to be a serious worry. Her mother only used email intermittently and it sometimes felt as if the real mother had vanished a couple of years ago, which was when the latest changes in behaviour started.

  By the time they finished their meal it was quite late, but there was still no sign of Peggy.

  Emma made a poor job of hiding her concern about that, saying valiantly, ‘We won’t wait up for her, and Rufus isn’t coming home, so it’ll just be us three tonight.’

  To distract them, Mara got out her laptop and shared some of her childhood photos, transferring a few particularly good ones to Aaron’s system.

  As they sat chatting afterwards, Emma said thoughtfully, ‘You know, I thought Rufus was just amusing himself with Jenn, but he’s been seeing her nearly every day and now he’s spending the night with her, so maybe he’s getting serious.’

  ‘Well, good luck to him,’ Aaron said. ‘She’s a fine figure of a woman, reminds me of Sophia Loren, who was my ideal woman as a young lad. At least that makes one of them whose love life we don’t have to worry about – for the moment at least. What do you think, Mara?’

  ‘He does sound to be smitten when he talks about her. His voice goes softer.’

  ‘Good. We’re more than ready for grandchildren, aren’t we, love?’

  There was a big jump these days from sleeping with someone to settling down and starting a family, but Mara didn’t point that out. Let them dream.

  ‘I wish Peggy would phone,’ Emma said out of the blue a little later, proving that she’d moved back to worrying about their daughter.

  ‘She won’t. And she’ll not be in till late,’ Aaron said. ‘She’s avoiding us.’

  It was Mara who went up to bed early this time. She felt the other two needed releasing from the need to entertain her.

  She didn’t know what she needed. More than this dawdling life, that was sure. But at least she had a date with Hal to look forward to tomorrow.

  If this continued, she’d have to find something more interesting to do with her time in Australia. And then, after she got back, she’d have to deal with her mother somehow and find a job, any job as long as she could afford her own place and make a new life for herself.

  Her mother had said bluntly that she was expecting her daughter to stay at home permanently from now on and get a job nearby. No way was Mara going to do that. Unfortunately that would leave poor Phil on his own, and with Christmas coming up in a few weeks perhaps this wouldn’t be a good time to make the break. Could she bear to hang on till after the festivities? Maybe. For her father.

  She wasn’t sure of anything lately. Life was so much easier when you had money coming in regularly. Her mind churned round and round, hemmed in by what felt like the high walls of this dilemma. It was a long time before she fell asleep.

  In England, Phil was keeping a careful eye on his wife. Kath had been getting quieter and quieter since Mara left, hardly saying a word to him and rubbing her forehead as if it ached. He was seriously worried and nothing would persuade her to see the doctor.

  The rigid weekly routines were still to be adhered to but she wasn’t holding anything like a proper conversation, just firing orders or refusals at him from time to time.

  In the end, after a sleepless night, he decided to have another attempt to make her face up to reality. He waited till they’d finished tea, but for once she didn’t eat hers, just pushed it around her plate.

  ‘We need to have a serious talk, love.’

  She looked at him warily.

  ‘I heard from Mara today. She says Aaron is very nice and so is his wife.’

  Kath picked up a magazine and stared down at it, rustling its pages loudly, making no attempt to reply.

  ‘Their house is beautiful, apparently. It’s large, detached and right on the water, with boats going past and dolphins sometimes too.’

  The magazine sailed through the air and the edge of its spine hit him on the ear.

  ‘Ouch! That was a stupid thing to do.’

  The next thing he knew, a vase followed it across the room, showering him and the carpet with water and flowers. It was followed straight away by an ornament, which smashed against the wall to one side of him, then another followed and hit him on the side of his head. He could feel blood trickling down his cheek and was so astonished that for a while he could only stand there, yelling at her to stop.

  She didn’t. Instead she speeded up, tossing anything that came to hand at him. As he tried to duck, broken glass crunched underfoot but she didn’t seem to notice.

  Then she stumbled and fell, lying there screaming, on and on. He couldn’t work out why. She didn’t seem to have cut herself. He was the one who was bleeding or bruised in a few places now.

  It had gone way beyond reason, so he stopped trying to reason with her and ran out of the room, tugging open the front door, intending to run next door and call for help.

  She was not only way out of control, but a danger to herself and to others.

  But as he left the house, the world seemed to explode around him and he could feel himself falling, down into a dizzy spiral.

  When he recovered consciousness, it took Phil a few moments to work out that he was in a moving vehicle, an ambulance, and his head was throbbing painfully.

  ‘Can you please try to lie still, sir?’ The man sitting next to him was a paramedic, judging by his clothing.

  ‘What – happened?’

  ‘You were knocked unconscious and your neighbour phoned for the emergency services.’

  ‘My wife?’

  ‘She’s in another ambulance. It’s a good job the police were there because she needed restraining, I’m afraid. Has she behaved violently before?’

  ‘Yes.’ And suddenly Phil was tired of it all, not to mention downright exhausted. He’d done his best for years, his very best, and it hadn’t been enough. He had nothing left to give now, nothing at all. He felt utterly boneless, empty and more weary than ever in his life before.

  He closed his eyes and let them get him out of the ambulance and into the A&E department at the hospital.

  They treated him gently, which he appreciated. They spoke softly, letting h
im take his time to answer – when he could find an answer.

  At one stage another doctor came into the cubicle and asked various questions about his wife, scribbling down the name of the medical practice his family used and the dates of her other serious incidents.

  ‘And she’s been all right living at home since her last episode, taken her medication and so on?’

  ‘Yes, well, sort of. Lately, she hasn’t always taken it and she’s been getting worse. I can’t manage her. I just can’t do it any longer.’ His voice broke and he felt tears trickle down his face.

  A woman took his hand. ‘We’ll look after her for you, then, shall we? I think you need a good night’s sleep more than anything at the moment, Mr Gregory, and we need to check your heart properly in the morning. Your blood pressure’s far too high, for a start. All right if we admit you tonight, just for observation?’

  ‘Fine by me. I’m so very tired.’ It’d be good to have someone else to look after him – and after Kath.

  Another nurse took down the name of Sally next door, who had a key to their house. She told him she’d pass on the information to the police, who would contact Sally and make sure his house was locked up safely.

  Phil thought he’d said thank you, hoped he had, just wanted to close his eyes and sleep for a very long time.

  When Phil woke up, bright sunlight was streaming in through the window, but this wasn’t his own bedroom. He tried to sit up but found that he was hooked up to a monitor which had started beeping loudly.

  A nurse hurried into the room. ‘Awake at last, Mr Gregory?’

  He stared at the kind young man as the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. ‘I remember now. How is my wife?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I can ask the person in charge of her area. Let’s make you comfortable first, eh?’

  When he’d done that the nurse said brightly, ‘The doctor will be in to see you soon. Try to rest till then.’

  It seemed a long time till the doctor arrived. She looked at a chart, listened to his heart then said gently, ‘Well, you’ve had a lucky escape, Mr Gregory. If you’d tried to carry on any longer without help, you might have done yourself some permanent damage.’