The Last Goodbye Page 5

  “Eh, less of the blooming, please!” I said, laughing.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Kate – I don’t mean to insult you. I do remember what it’s like being pregnant! Come on inside, I’ll put the kettle on. I have some freshly made scones.” She poked Ben playfully in the ribs. She knew he always devoured her homemade scones. “Laura’s not here yet but she’s on her way.”

  We walked inside, with Ben linking her arm. I could tell she was excited at having her son return to the nest even if it was just for one night.

  We went around to the rear of the house and in through the back door. They never used the front door these days. We followed Edwina down through the dark, cool passageways and into the kitchen. Old wooden beams crossed the ceiling above the aged brick walls. I sat down at the circular table covered with a blue checked oilcloth. The kettle whistled on the Aga and the smell of fresh baking filled the air. Edwina fussed around, serving us tea in china cups and scones with real butter melting on top. Originally this used to be the servants’ kitchen but now the family used it for themselves. They still had a housekeeper and a cook that came for a few hours every day but otherwise the days of a having full complement of servants was long gone.

  “I don’t know where your dad has got to,” she said apologetically. “I think he’s down in the study reading over a brief. You know what he’s like . . . I’ll go and call him.”

  Ben’s father, Geoff, was a barrister.

  “It’s good to be home,” Ben said, sitting back into the chair when she went in search of his dad. The two spaniels lay at his feet on the flagstones, their tails wagging rhythmically as he rubbed them with his foot in turn.

  Edwina came back into the room a minute later. “He’ll be up in a minute.”

  “Admiral is getting on. Come here, old boy!” Ben said. The dog obediently got up from his lying position on the floor and rubbed his back alongside Ben’s thigh.

  “Well, he is almost fourteen,” said his mother. “His joints are quite stiff in the mornings but he has a new lease of life seeing you today.”

  “These scones are great, Edwina,” I said.

  “Well, eat your fill, dear – you are eating for two after all! Now then, you two, have you got a photo to show me of my first grandchild?”

  I took my treasured black-and-white scan picture of Baby Pip out from my bag and handed it to her. You could see the large head, bones of the spine and its two legs curled up. She (or he) was sucking her (or his) thumb in the grainy image.

  “Well, isn’t that just amazing!”

  I saw tears brimming in her eyes.

  “Of course they didn’t have things like this in my day. Isn’t technology just marvellous?”

  “It is indeed, Mum.”

  “Now if you need anything when the time comes, anything at all, do not be afraid to ask. I would be delighted to help out – you know that.”

  “We know, Mum, thanks.”

  “I’ve told all the ladies in the Women’s Institute – I’m so looking forward to this stage of my life. We all love our children but it goes by so quickly and it is hard work, no matter what people say, so you never really get to enjoy it properly – but I’ve heard so many friends say that grandchildren give you a new lease of life. I can’t wait!”

  Ben smiled indulgently at her.

  “How’s school going, dear?”

  “Good, Mum, they’re keeping me on my toes.”

  “Oh, I bet they are! And Kate – how’s work in the gallery?”

  “Well, we’ve just taken on a new photographer and we’ve already had a lot of interest in him so we’re pretty excited about that.”

  Just then the broad figure of Ben’s father filled the doorway. He stood there, clearing his throat loudly. He stood at a towering six foot five inches tall. Ben was tall at six foot three but he hadn’t quite reached his dad’s stature.

  “I believe congratulations are in order!” he boomed, coming over and shaking both our hands.

  Pouring himself a cup of tea, he sat down alongside us at the table. He had been away the last time we had come to tell them the news.

  I noticed Ben sit up a bit straighter.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  I could hear nervousness in his voice. His father always had this effect on him. He always turned into a schoolboy around him when he was so confident and self-assured in every other area of his life. Ben’s dad couldn’t accept that Ben had dropped out of law at Cambridge and had then chosen to be a teacher. He believed law was in their blood – three generations of Chamberlain men had studied law and Ben would have been the fourth – but he broke the line and it seemed that his dad couldn’t forgive him for that.

  “So how have you been keeping, Kate? Good, I hope?”

  “Very well, thank you.” He wasn’t the kind of man who would be entertained with tales of morning sickness and expanding waistlines. Because Ben was nervous around him, it made me nervous too.

  “Jolly good. I dare say it will be hard though, raising children on a teacher’s wage.” He exhaled loudly through his nose and took a bite into the scone that Edwina had buttered for him. He chewed loudly.

  I breathed in deeply. There it was: the first dig of the day. He just couldn’t help himself – the words tumbled effortlessly out of his mouth. He was like a boxer waiting on the right opportunity to throw a punch. It always went like this – Geoff would spend the whole time making snide and cutting remarks about his son’s choice of career.

  “Well, I’m sure they’ll manage, Geoff,” Edwina said, in a tone which warned him that that was enough. She turned to us. “Why don’t you two take Admiral and Max for a walk – they need to run off some of the excitement at having you home and I’m sure you’d both like to stretch your legs after the drive down?”

  Eager to escape the atmosphere in the kitchen, we did as we were told, chose some wellies from the endless pairs lined up at the pantry door and set out across the sloping fields. The dogs ran on ahead of us. We held hands as we walked along, stepping through the long grass. It felt so good to breathe in the fresh country air – it was definitely different from the air in London, heavy with its fumes and pollutants. You could feel its goodness as it filled your lungs.

  I knew Ben was brooding. His footsteps were just that little bit too heavy as he trampled on the grass underneath.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah – I’m used to it by now.”

  “It still doesn’t excuse it. I don’t know why he can’t just be happy for you – you love your job and you would have hated every day of being a lawyer. It’s just not you.”

  “He’s a lost cause.”

  “Well, for a supposedly intelligent man, he’s a bit stupid. Some people get so entrenched in their beliefs that they overlook the important things in life. It’s very sad actually.”

  “Well, I’ll never be like that to Baby Pip – no matter what he wants to do –”

  “Or she,” I reminded him playfully, as he was so fond of doing to me.

  “Or she – once she or he is happy, then I’m happy.”

  I put my arms around his neck. “You’re going to be a great father.”

  “I hope so,” he said seriously. “It’s a big job being responsible for a little person, doing your best to mould them into a well-rounded adult . . .”

  “You think about things too much.”

  “Well, it’s a big thing raising a child. I just hope we get it right, that’s all.”

  “Jeez, Ben . . . will you stop freaking me out!”

  Laura was seated in the kitchen when we got back to the house.

  “Congratulations, little brother!” she said, jumping up and throwing her arms around Ben’s neck as soon as we came in the door. “And of course you too, Kate – let’s face it, it’s you who’s doing most of the hard work!” She gave me a kiss on the cheek and hugged me warmly. We had told her our news on the phone but this was the first time we’d seen her face to face since we’d found out I was pr
egnant.

  “Eh, I’ve had my part to play in it too, you know!” Ben said, grinning at her.

  At thirty-seven, she was two years older than Ben and she never let him forget it. Laura was tall too – their whole family was tall. She must have been at least five foot eleven in her bare feet and she never shied away from heels. I liked that about her – she had a take-me-as-I-am attitude and she wasn’t hung up or insecure about how she looked – unlike other people who would fret over their tummy or the size of their nose, Laura seemed to be blissfully unaware. She was genuinely happy in her own skin.

  “I can’t believe I’ve been outlapped by my younger brother!” She plonked herself back down on to the chair. Ben and I sat down across from her while Edwina placed a pot of tea and more scones on the table before joining us. I was glad Geoff was nowhere to be seen. The atmosphere was always heavier when he was in the room.

  “So how is my favourite spinster-in-the-making doing then?”

  “Shut up, Ben – and I’ll have you know that that title no longer fits – I’m seeing someone actually.”

  “Oh yeah?” Ben and Edwina both looked incredulous.

  In the whole time that I had been with Ben, I had never known Laura to have a boyfriend. Her last boyfriend had been a fellow barrister and a complete pratt by all accounts. Ben had never liked him. Although he was in the legal profession, he had felt the law was for other people, not him. He had been arrested for drink driving but had managed to get it hushed over because of who he was, so was never prosecuted. But the real straw that broke the camel’s back came when Laura had found out that he had a bit of thing for using prostitutes on the side. She had seen his car one night pulled into a lay-by on a road near their home, so, thinking that he must have broken down, she pulled up beside it. She got out of her car and went over to his and when she looked in the window, she saw her boyfriend with his trousers around his ankles and his head thrown back in pleasure as the woman crouched down over him. She had banged on the window then. “He actually had the audacity to look irritated because I had disturbed him – and it wasn’t as if he wasn’t getting it at home!” she would say to anyone she told the story to.

  “So who’s the new guy then?” Edwina asked.

  “His name is Tim Templeton.”

  “What kind of a name is that? He sounds like a character out of Noddy,” Ben said. “Are you sure he really exists and isn’t a fabrication of your overactive imagination?”

  “I’ll have you know he is a living and breathing, sound-minded human being and we love each other very much.”

  “Who in their right mind would call their child Tim Templeton?” Ben said, laughing.

  She fired a cushion at him.

  “Hey, stop it, you two!” Edwina scolded.

  “So what does this Tim Templeton fellow do?” Ben was trying to keep a straight face on when he said his name.

  “He’s a musician actually – he plays the cello in the Philharmonic Orchestra.”

  “And does he know that he is dating someone who is completely tone deaf?”

  “I’m not that bad, Ben.”

  “Oh yes, you are.”

  “Mum – tell him!”

  “Well, let’s just say you were the only child that was asked not to sing during the school concert.”

  “Mum!”

  “It’s true, Laura – the other children complained that they found it off-putting.” Edwina started to laugh heartily at the memory.

  “Well, I must say – I have a jolly lovely family!” Laura said in mock indignation.

  We chatted easily for a while until it was time to go and change for dinner. Ben’s family were very traditional in many respects – everyone still changed for dinner and reconvened back in the drawing room for an aperitif before going into the formal dining room to eat. The first time I had come to meet them, I had panicked because I hadn’t brought any clothes to change into. The only other clothes that I had brought with me were jeans and jumper for the next day. But if she had noticed, his mother had never said anything to me, which I was grateful for.

  I got changed into a forest-green jersey dress, another one of my new maternity-wear collection. That was another thing that I had noticed: all of the maternity clothes in the shops were made from jersey fabric. I mean everything. I looked at myself in the mirror. I had recently had my blonde hair chopped into a bob and I still got a fright whenever I saw my reflection. I needed something to brighten up the outfit so I wrapped a burnt-orange patterned silk scarf around my neck. We were just about to leave the room when I decided to grab a cardigan to put on over the dress because, once you left the kitchen, which had the Aga to keep it cosy, the house was bloody freezing. Even at the height of summer.

  We went into the drawing room where Ben’s parents were seated on the Chesterfield sofa. Candles filled the room with a soft glow as the light illuminated the dark age-spots on the mirror. Laura was seated on a wing-backed armchair. Edwina hopped up when we entered the room and offered us an aperitif of Dubonnet. I abstained but Ben took one of the crystal glasses from her and we sat down on the four-legged sofa across from them. I hated this sofa – it was perched up high on four castors and was so deep that when I sat back into it properly a short-arse like me felt like a child whose feet were dangling over the edge.

  We chatted for a while and then went through to the parquet-floored dining room and took our seats at the polished mahogany table. It could comfortably seat twenty people and Ben told me stories of fabulous dinner parties his parents used to throw when he was a child. These days Edwina was lucky to have five people around her table. The walls were papered in Chinese hand-painted wallpaper, which Ben’s parents went to great lengths to preserve. Gilded paintings of Ben’s forebears stared down sternly on us all.

  “I wonder what they would think of your career choice?” I muttered to him. “They’re probably turning in their graves right now.”

  He gave me a dig in the ribs.

  “Ouch! Watch the baby!” I said in mock anger.

  After we had eaten our goat’s cheese starter, Ben’s mum served up a goose and roast potatoes dripping in its fat.

  “Bloody hell, Edwina – there’s only five of us!” said Geoff. “We’ll be eating the leftovers of that bird for weeks to come yet.”

  “Nonsense, Geoffrey – you know I like to cook a special meal whenever the children return. I had Rob kill it for me yesterday.”

  Rob was the farmhand who had been working with the family for over fifty years now.

  “How is he doing?” Ben asked as he helped himself to some peas. He served me some before passing the dish to Laura. “We used to have such fun with him – hey, Laura, remember that time we took the tractor out but we didn’t know how to stop it and he had to run after it and jump on?” Ben turned to her and laughed.

  “I never knew that!” Edwina said in shock. “My Lord, you could have both been killed!”

  “Eh, that’s why we didn’t tell you,” Ben said.

  “Any sign of him retiring?” Laura asked.

  “Not yet, thank goodness,” Edwina said. “I dare say it will be a sad day when he finally does.”

  “He’s irreplaceable.” Ben nodded in agreement.

  “No one is irreplaceable,” Geoff cut in.

  “Well, dear, I would argue that Rob comes pretty damn close to it,” Edwina said tersely.

  We all looked at our plates and ate the rest of the food without much talk.

  After pudding, the rest of them sipped dessert wine but I stuck with the water. I never could stomach dessert wine, pregnant or not.

  “So how’s school, Ben?” Geoff asked but the words seemed to stick in his throat as they came out.

  “Great – I have Year Two, so we’re just starting the basics of addition and subtraction.”

  “Hmmh.”

  “Ben is really good at his job, you know.” I don’t know what possessed me to say this. Suddenly all eyes were on me. “He received the school’s
Teacher of the Year Award last year and he’s being put forward for the head of the Maths Department, aren’t you, Ben?”

  “Fantastic!” Edwina said.

  Ben glared at me. Nobody spoke for what felt like an eternity.

  “Well, isn’t that wonderful? So not only do you have a woman’s job but you also let your girlfriend do the talking for you, Ben.” Geoff slammed his wineglass down hard onto the table so that the crystal was left ringing.

  I felt stupid then. I had just made everything worse. Much worse.

  “Dad!” Laura said.

  “There is no need to be so rude,” Edwina said sharply to her husband. “I get to have my children home only a handful of times a year and then you have to ruin it for everyone!”

  “I’m just stating the obvious.”

  “I will not let you speak to my son like that!”

  “Although you would never think it, he is my son as well actually,” Geoff continued coolly and he took a sip from his wine.

  “Well, then act like it!” she said, her voice steely, before she pushed back her chair and walked out of the room.

  Ben and I averted our eyes. I just wanted the ground to swallow me whole. What had I just started? We both sat there rooted to our chairs, neither of us knowing whether we should go after his mother or just stay where we were.

  “Well, I hope you’re happy now, Dad!” Laura said, standing up, her eyes blazing. She turned and went out after Edwina.

  Geoff got up then and walked out of the room, leaving us on our own.

  “Well, that was fun.” Ben let out a heavy sigh. He took his linen napkin off his knee and tossed it onto the table. Its corner landed in the gravy boat and I watched as the white linen soaked up the brown liquid.

  I stood up and took it out again. “I’m sorry, Ben – I know I shouldn’t rise to him but it just came out. I get so annoyed with how he belittles you all the time. I just wanted him to know that you are a success – you may not work in law but you are good at what you do.” I reached out for his hand.

  “I know you meant well but there is no reasoning with that man.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”