Authors: Katie Fforde

Staying Away at Christmas (6 page)

BOOK: Staying Away at Christmas

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‘I’m saying this more in horror than in anger, sweets, but are you really going like that?’

Gina shot her sister a look that combined irritation, amusement and a touch of exasperation. They were in the car on the main road to Cranmore-on-the-Green and turning back to revamp her outfit was not an option. Sally’s little girls were asleep in the back and Gina found it easier to drive if they were not singing and squabbling and spilling cartons of juice in her car. She wanted to get as far into the journey as possible before they woke up.

Now, she said, ‘Seeing as we’re actually on our way, I
am
going to go like this. What’s wrong with what I’m wearing anyway? I’ve got a jacket in the boot.’

Sally, eighteen months younger and making the most of the Indian summer, was wearing a long skirt, drapey top, gladiator sandals and a great many beads. She brought off the hippy-chick look irritatingly well. Gina felt herself being judged.

‘It’s very corporate,’ Sally pronounced. ‘A black trouser suit and a crisp white shirt might be fine for your business meetings but this—’

‘It is a business meeting.’ Gina glanced at the sat nav. ‘Anyway, most of my clothes are still in those cardboard boxes the men give you when you move. At least the shirt is clean and ironed. Nothing else I currently own is.’

‘It’s not exactly a business meeting,’ said Sally, having cast an eye over her children to make sure they were still asleep. ‘It involves a significant letter. From our mad Aunt Rainey.’

Gina felt she should suppress Sally’s excitement just a bit. ‘It is business. Our dear departed aunt had a space in this guy’s antiques centre. That’s business, isn’t it? The letter is just something about that. Probably.’

Sally tutted at Gina’s down-to-earth attitude. ‘Yes, but it’s contact from beyond the grave.’ She said this as if she was Yvette Fielding announcing an especially spooky edition of
Most Haunted
.

Gina giggled. ‘Rubbish! We just got letters from her solicitor. It would only count as being beyond the grave if we had a séance.’

‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’

Gina was laughing properly now, even as she shook her head. ‘Honestly, Sal, you’re barking. I do not think a séance is a good idea. Besides, it’s completely unnecessary because we have letters. Actual paper, here-in-the-real-world, letters.’ She sent Sally a loving if somewhat despairing look. ‘I do wonder sometimes if being an artist and a stay-at-home mum has rotted your brain.’ She paused for a second. ‘Not that you don’t do a brilliant job keeping it all together on no money. But some of
your
ideas are a bit out of left field.’

‘Well, you have to keep yourself amused somehow when you’re hunting for little garments under the bed and stopping the girls from killing each other.’ Sally sighed.

Gina felt a pang of guilt for the brain-rot remark. ‘You’re such a brilliant mother, Sal, really you are. The girls are a real credit to you.’

‘But? I feel a but coming on!’

‘Nothing about you, but I do think this meeting will just be signing a document so the antique centre can get the space back or something. It won’t be anything exciting.’

‘So, you don’t think there’ll be actual money then?’

Gina shook her head. ‘I don’t see how there could be. You saw Aunt Rainey more often than I did but I think we’d have known if she was rich, surely? She didn’t own a house and she never seemed to have much cash.’

Sally sighed again, ‘I miss her, you know. Aunt Rainey was a real character, always talking about the Beatles and all those old bands as if they were her best friends, but she was a lot of fun. I wish I’d seen more of her really but having the twins so soon after we moved down here, it wasn’t easy.’ She smiled. ‘She came to tea a couple of times, always dressed like an ex-rock chick, and I thought how much the girls would love her when they were a bit older but, well, she died.’

‘She was a lot of fun and quite eccentric. And if you’re not careful, you’ll end up just like her,’ Gina added.

‘I wouldn’t mind. She was great.’

‘I know. It was a compliment. Sort of.’

Sally regarded her sister as if not knowing quite how to take this. Eventually she changed the subject. ‘So, what was he like? This Matthew Ballinger?’

‘I haven’t met him, have I?’

Sally waved a hand, as if this was a minor detail.

‘But you spoke to him. What was his voice like?’

‘OK. Nice, even. Although he sounded a bit grumpy … You’re doing it again, aren’t you?’

‘What?’ Sally’s outraged innocence reminded Gina of her nieces when confronted with some huge mess or other.

‘Matchmaking,’ said Gina, trying to sound firm. ‘That’s why you’re fussed about what I’m wearing. You’ve got to stop this.’

Her sister looked out of the side window, possibly slightly embarrassed. ‘Well, it’s time you had a boyfriend again.’

‘No it’s not. I’m on a break from men. The last one was a real disaster, who actually took money from me as well as all the other crap you know by heart now.’ Gina paused. Being lighthearted about her failed relationship wasn’t yet easy, even if she was well and truly over him. ‘That was part of the reason why I moved down from London, in case you’ve forgotten. I’m not going there again, not for a long time.’

‘Where? London?’

Her sister growled.

Sally allowed Gina a second to calm down. ‘That wasn’t the main reason though. After all, London is massive. You could have avoided Egan if you tried.’

‘Oh, I tried! But when you know all the same people you’re bound to run into the one man you really don’t want to see.’

‘That’s just an excuse. You really moved because you wanted to see your nieces grow up,’ said Sally comfortably.

Gina smiled in agreement. ‘I do. And there’s the fact that business is so dire and my only big client left has come down here too. Also the rent on my flat had shot up and with the recession I had to regroup. All of which you know.’

‘You’ve missed out “and you pestered the life out of me”,’ said Sally.

‘That too.’ Gina laughed.

‘You’ll love it down here though. I know you will.’

Reluctantly, Gina agreed. ‘I know I will too. I already love waking up in my cottage and seeing fields at the bottom of the garden instead of the back end of a dodgy fish and chip shop.’

‘There will be things you’ll miss though,’ said Sally generously. ‘You were in the seething metropolis and now you’re—’

‘In the sticks? Missing being able to get a good curry?’ Sally had never before acknowledged a single downside. Was she now feeling responsible for her sister’s happiness?

‘We have a truly brilliant balti, but maybe you’ll miss the buzz? I hope not. I’m so thrilled that you moved. We all are.’

‘Not just so I can babysit?’

‘Of course not! As if.’

Gina chuckled. She loved her nieces and although she found them fairly exhausting she always liked spending time with them. ‘I think I am a country girl at heart and it is so much cheaper renting here than in London.’ She paused. ‘But no matchmaking, you hear? If ever there comes a time when I think I might be ready for another relationship – say in about ten years—’

‘When you’ll be forty, nearly past child-bearing.’

‘—I’ll either let you know or go on the internet.’

‘That’s so unromantic!’

‘Good. I’ve had it with romance.’

‘You haven’t really. Everyone has a romantic side, they just don’t want to acknowledge it.’

Gina raised her eyebrows and tried not to smile. It was her sister who was the romantic. She herself was a hard-bitten businesswoman who had a living to earn. She had absolutely no space for romance in her life, now or at any time in the future. Falling in love had been a disaster. From now on her head would rule her heart, and just to be sure, she’d avoid
relationships
altogether.

‘Now I know that you are never going near another man, is it safe to wonder what this Matthew Ballinger might be like?’ Sally continued. ‘Is he young or old? Same age as Aunt Rainey, do you think?’

‘He sounded middle-aged. And no, I couldn’t tell from his voice if he was married or single.’

‘I didn’t ask!’

‘Did Aunt Rainey ever talk about him? When she came to visit?’

Sally screwed up her face in thought. ‘Not that I can remember, but I had the babies and they took up most of the conversation, one way or another.’

‘I asked Dad on the phone if he knew anything about him. He didn’t. He did say that Rainey was prone to having younger men hanging round after her though.’

‘Perhaps he’s one of her young lovers.’ Sally sighed. ‘Maybe when I’m sixty-odd I’ll have young lovers.’

Gina laughed. ‘Not if Alaric is still around you won’t!’

* * *

Cranmore-on-the-Green was a Cotswold town known for its historic, picturesque buildings, antiques, tea shops and tourists. Now, on this bright, autumn day, it was bustling with people taking advantage of a few days of late sunshine.

Gina and Sally had found a huge car park seemingly miles from the town centre and, after a few minutes of struggle and ‘want to walk’, they managed to get both the girls strapped into the double buggy. The little party then made its way through the crowds.

‘You’ve never been to the French House, have you?’ said Gina.

Sally shook her head. ‘No. Cranmore-on-the-Green doesn’t have a supermarket, so I don’t need to come very often, and there are so many antiques shops and centres I wouldn’t know it if I had seen it. I always send Alaric’s parents there for a little trip out when they stay. They love it. But I’ve got a little map so we should be able to find it quite easily.

‘It’s a shame he couldn’t have the girls,’ she went on, steering the buggy into the road to make way for a group of elderly women who had obviously had lunch in the pub and were now trying to find the coach park.

‘No, it’s good that he couldn’t,’ Gina said firmly. ‘He had to meet a client which might result in a good commission.’ Gina felt her artistic, romantic sister and brother-in-law needed to be bit more businesslike and sometimes became over businesslike to compensate. She secretly thought of them as the Flopsy Bunnies, ‘improvident and cheerful’.

‘Yes, but not everyone likes children and we do want this meeting to go well,’ said Sally, hefting the buggy back on to the pavement.

‘Oh come on. They’re adorable. Anyway, we’re only going to be five
minutes
, I expect. Here we are, the French House.’

‘Goodness!’ said Sally. They stared up at the building, which was old, stately and huge. It was different from the Georgian buildings on either side, the windows being closer together and taller. A curtain of Virginia creeper covered the walls with scarlet and a couple of slightly rusty brackets supported a sign proclaiming it was indeed ‘
THE FRENCH HOUSE
’. A couple of bay trees in tubs stood on the front steps, which led to a pair of large double doors. The sign needed repainting and the bay trees had lost their original lollipop shape but to Gina the faint air of neglect made it look beautiful and romantic.

‘It sort of looks French, doesn’t it?’ said Sally.

Gina nodded. ‘I suppose it does.’

Sally sighed. ‘We’d better see if we can get the pushchair up the steps and through the door.’ The house didn’t look as if children ever went into it.

A bell jangled as they arrived in the entrance. Gina noticed there was quite a large hole in the carpet but the brass on the door was brightly polished. A pleasant-looking middle-aged woman came up to them. ‘Hello, I’m Jenny. Matthew is expecting you. Would you like me to mind the buggy? He’s upstairs.’

‘Thank you, that would be very kind,’ said Sally, after more introductions.

After some discussion about which twin wanted to go with Gina, they each picked up a golden-haired moppet and followed Jenny up a grand-looking staircase. As Jenny knocked on one of the doors at the top of the stairs, Gina straightened her shoulders. She didn’t know what lay ahead but it was all a bit daunting.