before my sentence of banishment was pronounced last night.’ Rhianna tried to speak lightly. ‘In a way, it was a relief to know there is a reason for my having been the resident leper all these years. But it wasn’t the most welcome news I’ve ever had either.’ She looked at Carrie. ‘You never knew—never guessed?’
The other shook her head. ‘Never—cross my heart. But a lot of stuff finally makes sense,’ she added soberly. ‘Like being told I was too young to understand when I used to ask why Aunt Esther never came back here, even to visit.’
Her tone became brisker. ‘But this isn’t your fault, love. And Uncle Ben must have died at least four years before you were born, so there can’t possibly be any connection there.’
She paused. ‘Mind you, I remember Mrs Welling saying once that he’d always been a devil for the women—before and after he married Aunt Esther. So perhaps your mother wasn’t really to blame either.’ She pulled a face. ‘Maybe it was one of those squire and village maiden things.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Rhianna grimaced too. ‘Apparently your aunt was ill and my mother was nursing her when it started. Which somehow makes it even worse—if it’s true, of course.’ She sighed. ‘I can’t believe anyone as warm and kind as my mother would have taken advantage of a sick woman by stealing her husband.’
She tucked her small make-up purse down the side of the case. ‘What was wrong with Esther Penvarnon. Do you know?’
‘Not really,’ Carrie said, frowning. ‘According to my mother she had a bad time when Diaz was born, and was never well afterwards. It might have been one of those virus things, like ME, because according to the Welling information service Aunt Esther spent a lot of time in a wheelchair.’
She frowned. ‘Although I have to say Mrs W also claimed she could walk perfectly well if she wanted. She reckoned, and I quote, that my aunt should have “got up and got on with being Mr Penvarnon’s missus,” thus saving a heap of trouble all round.’
She paused. ‘Especially for you. Talk about the sins of the mothers…’ Her face acquired the stubborn look that Rhianna remembered from the first days of their friendship. ‘However, you can’t simply be thrown out on to the streets with nowhere to go.’
‘But that isn’t the case any longer. I do have a place to stay—back in London.’ Rhianna forced a smile. ‘Remember the Jessops, who looked after me after my mother died? Well, we’ve always stayed in touch, and over the years they’ve kept asking me to visit them—but I never could because Aunt Kezia said the fare was too expensive. Well, I phoned them this morning, and as soon as I tell them what train I’m catching they’re going to meet me at Paddington. I can live with them again until I’ve found a job and got settled.’
‘Well, thank God for that at least,’ Carrie said roundly. ‘But you’ve still been treated very badly by our family—Diaz included. If he wanted to kiss someone, why didn’t he pick Janie Trevellin? After all, they were seeing each other when he was over last year, and Mother thought at one point they might even get engaged.’
She shrugged. ‘Some hopes. One day he threw his stuff in the car, as usual, and went.’ She gave a reluctant grin. ‘According to Welling wisdom, Penvarnon men have always been restless. Never in one place, wanting to be somewhere else. “Hard to tie down, and impossible to keep tied after”.’
Rhianna made herself speak evenly. ‘Then maybe Janie Trevellin had a lucky escape.’
‘I bet she doesn’t think so.’ Carrie watched Rhianna fasten her case. ‘Look, are you quite sure about this? Perhaps things were said in the heat of the moment last night, and everyone will have calmed down by now?’
‘Not my aunt,’ Rhianna said briefly. ‘Besides, I never planned to stay here for ever, so maybe being pushed into action now is actually a blessing in disguise.’
‘Like the pigs currently flying over the roof,’ Carrie retorted. ‘You’ve got my mobile number haven’t you. Let me know you’re safe and sound, and keep in touch with all your new contact details. Oxford’s much nearer London, so, fingers crossed, we can go on seeing each other quite easily.’
Rhianna took a deep breath. ‘I’m sure you won’t just be seeing me.’
‘Well, no.’ She flushed a little, her smile tender. ‘Simon came over a little while ago, to grovel about Jimmy and a lot of other things besides. He said going to university, getting away from the family and finding his freedom, knocked him sideways for a while, but he’s back on track now. And he wants to see me again—seriously this time.’
‘Then last night clearly wasn’t all bad.’ Smiling was an effort, but Rhianna managed it. ‘If he’s truly the one, Carrie, go for it.’ But, please God, don’t let it be true. Let her find someone else.
‘Don’t worry,’ Carrie assured her. ‘I shall.’ She paused again. ‘How are you getting to the station? You can’t possibly walk.’
‘No choice. I certainly can’t afford a taxi.’
‘I shall take you,’ Carrie said firmly. ‘In Mother’s car. And I shall ask her for the wages you’re owed for last night, too.’
Rhianna stared into her shoulder bag on the pretext of checking its contents, aware that her face had reddened.
‘Please don’t,’ she said constrictedly. ‘I think that’s best forgotten. Besides, I don’t want anything from her. From anyone.’
But later, at the station, Carrie produced a roll of notes and handed them to her. ‘For you,’ she said. ‘From my father, wishing you all the best.’
Rhianna stared at it in disbelief. ‘But it’s five hundred pounds,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t possibly take it.’
‘He says you have to.’ Carrie looked awkward. ‘It seems Uncle Ben left your mother some money in his will, but she refused to accept it. By comparison, this is a pittance, but Dad says it will make him feel much better, knowing that you’re not penniless.’
‘How lovely of him.’ Rhianna felt perilously close to tears.
Francis Seymour was such a contrast, she thought, to her aunt, who’d said curtly, ‘So you’re off, then? No doubt you’ll fall on your feet. Your sort always does.’
And Rhianna’s brief but carefully prepared speech of thanks for the home she’d been given for the past six years had died in her throat.
And that, she thought now, was the last time I saw her.
The last time I believed I would see any of them.
And, oh, God, it would have been so much better that way.
HER face was wet again now, Rhianna realised, raising her head at last.
Stress, she told herself. A natural reaction to finding herself in this totally unnatural situation. Certainly not an appropriate time to start remembering the unhappiness of the past.
Especially
