The Second Wife Page 15

  It was thanks to Richard that she and Nicole were now seeing more of each other. Lydia was sure that, without his interest in her welfare, Nicole would have visited as little as she could. She would have organised her some home help, she’d said as much, but Lydia doubted she would have been much in evidence herself. Richard had strong family values. He clearly adored his daughter, proudly showing off her photo and regaling Lydia with stories of her childhood. It was such a pity Nicole had never had children, which was clearly what had been missing in her first marriage. And it was a greater pity that, at thirty-eight, it was possibly too late for her to have children with Richard. But then Nicole herself had been a late arrival. After two miscarriages, Lydia had never imagined she would be pregnant at forty. And Richard hadn’t seemed to mind that they might not have children together, when she’d tentatively enquired whether he would have liked to have had more. He would have loved more children, he’d confided, and but for the tragic illness his first wife had suffered, he might have had them. He was content with his life now though, he’d assured her, his smile so heartbreakingly sad that Lydia’s own heart had melted.

  The man was a gem, definitely. Nicole would do well to hang on to this one, whatever it took. Thinking she should perhaps make more of an effort to talk to her daughter, who rarely seemed to confide in her, Lydia heaved herself upwards, the last half of the steps like climbing a mountain – and then froze as she heard a distinct clunk in the hall. And then another. Her heart skittered against her ribcage. Someone was in the house. Lydia tightened her grip on the rickety stair rail, held her breath and clutched the vintage bottle of wine close to her chest.

  ‘Lydia? It’s me, Richard,’ she heard from the hall, and breathed a considerable sigh of relief.

  ‘Down here,’ she called. ‘I was fetching some wine to have with our lunch.’ She waved the bottle as Richard appeared at the cellar door, looking perturbed. ‘Unfortunately, it seems a lot further coming up than it was going down.’

  ‘Lydia, you shouldn’t be climbing stairs on that ankle.’ Richard shook his head in despair. ‘Let alone dodgy stairs,’ he added, finding the loose rail as he came down to meet her.

  ‘Another neglected repair, I’m afraid.’ Lydia sighed apologetically as he tested it, the furrow in his brow deepening. ‘I meant to get around to it, but time slips by so fast nowadays.’

  Richard glanced at her and then back to the rail. ‘I’ll bring my toolbox next time,’ he offered.

  Such a gentleman. Lydia smiled wistfully. If only she had her time over again. ‘No need,’ she said, handing him the wine and taking hold of the arm he offered her. ‘It will be someone else’s responsibility soon, won’t it? I expect the new owners will give the old place the tender loving care it deserves.’

  ‘Even so,’ said Richard, patting her hand as he assisted her up, ‘we don’t want you having another fall, do we? You’ve got some living it up to do, remember? On the subject of which, I’ve brought the papers for you to sign regarding the transfer of the proceeds of the sale. Once that’s done, we can secure your apartment – and then book that cruise together.’

  Lydia chuckled. If only. Such a charmer. And with a sense of humour, too. Altogether, a rare breed indeed. She so hoped Nicole realised how lucky she was. He really was worth his weight in gold.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  NICOLE

  PREVIOUS YEAR – NOVEMBER

  ‘Hi,’ Richard said, coming into the utility room, where Nicole was washing her brushes. Her watercolour brushes, that was, with not a whiff of fumes about, lest she be accused of deliberately trying to poison Olivia. She’d already taken most of her oil-based supplies to the room adjoining the village hall. It was perfect. And thanks to Isobel arranging for the rental to be waived in exchange for her teaching an evening art class once a week, she didn’t even have to pay for the privilege of using it.

  ‘Hi.’ She smiled, turning her cheek to his kiss. ‘Good day?’

  ‘Not bad,’ Richard said, bending to give the dogs, who were close on his heels, a fuss. ‘I managed to pick up that property on the high street at a reasonable price,’ he said, heading back into the kitchen.

  ‘The one the Society for the Blind were going to put a bid in for?’ Nicole asked him, thinking it a bit sad that they wouldn’t now be able to make a bid.

  ‘That’s the one. It will make excellent private rental accommodation, once it’s converted. Oh, and I saw Lydia on the way back.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ Wiping her hands, Nicole came back to the kitchen. Richard and Lydia had definitely bonded. But then, most people did with Richard. He was charismatic and easy-going. Certainly, most women would feel flattered by the attention of a charming, good-looking man, whatever their age. Nicole was glad Lydia was getting on with him. It meant Richard could pop in on the odd occasion in lieu of her. It had raised a niggling worry though. Because he had seemed to get on with Lydia so easily, Nicole was beginning to wonder if she herself was the one at fault, imagining people were out to get her. Was the hostility she felt towards her mother, towards Olivia, because she was being paranoid? Mind you, being paranoid didn’t mean people weren’t out to get you as well, did it?

  ‘I found her halfway up the cellar steps, struggling to fetch wine, would you believe?’

  ‘Oh Lord.’ Nicole rolled her eyes. ‘Typical Lydia. Once her mind’s made up about something there’s no talking her out of it.’ Which is why, Nicole supposed, they’d eventually stopped talking about anything meaningful. As far as Lydia was concerned, she was to blame for the failure of her first marriage as much as she was to blame for her father’s disappointment in her. There’d been no point looking for a shoulder where there was none. ‘I hope you told her off. I dread to think what might have happened if you hadn’t turned up.’

  ‘I did, but diplomatically.’ Richard smiled knowingly and went to grab the orange juice from the fridge. ‘I dropped by with some information about the luxury apartment complex. Looks like she’s definitely going to go for it, which will be a good thing. No more stairs for her to negotiate, at least. Did you manage to go through all her paperwork?’

  ‘Finally,’ Nicole assured him. ‘Her house deeds and legal papers all seem in order. There was a copy of her will in the file, too. Looks like she hasn’t disinherited me for some obscure charity yet.’

  ‘Better keep on her good side then.’ Richard winked and took a swig of his drink. ‘I’ll get it all checked over with a solicitor, make sure there’s nothing we’ve overlooked. I know a guy who specialises in estate planning. Assuming you’d like me to, of course?’

  ‘Good idea,’ Nicole agreed. ‘I think the solicitor Lydia uses is about to retire, or else already has. He was my father’s solicitor. He’s so old he’s probably fossilised.’

  Richard laughed. ‘I’ll get it sorted,’ he promised. ‘It’s good news she’s agreed to move, don’t you think? Her being nearer, I mean, where we can better keep an eye on her?’

  ‘It certainly is.’ Nicole peered into the fridge in hopes of inspiration for dinner. She’d thought barbecued fish and salad on the patio, but it was looking a bit overcast now. ‘She can’t possibly see to the upkeep of that house on her own, and I’m worn out trying to keep this house clean, let alone hers as well.’

  Richard walked across to place a hand around her waist. ‘You don’t have to keep it quite so meticulously clean though, Nicole.’

  ‘No?’ Nicole glanced towards the stairs, hearing Olivia cough, as was her wont lately, as she came down.

  Richard removed his hand, tugged off his tie and headed that way.

  ‘God, honestly, this stair gate thing is a real nuisance,’ Olivia moaned as he reached her, causing Nicole to clench her teeth.

  ‘It’s easy enough to climb over, Liv,’ Richard said.

  ‘For you it might be,’ Olivia huffed. ‘I have to open it. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to do that when I’ve always got my hands full.’

  Her hands were always full with
her phone and her Coke, glasses of which went upstairs never to come down again. Nicole looked over to see Richard dutifully opening the gate for her. Or else shopping bags or make-up, suntan lotion… the list was endless. She had yet to see her carrying any implements that might be put to use cleaning the space she lived in.

  ‘It’s just a baby gate, Liv.’ Richard climbed easily over it – since Olivia had impolitely closed it again, kicking it shut behind her with her foot. ‘We’d have one if we had little ones around.’

  Olivia rolled her eyes. ‘But we’re not likely to have little ones around, are we? Not while you’re living with her.’ Carrying on to the kitchen, she looked Nicole disparagingly over.

  Feeling that like a low blow to the stomach –almost as painful as the one that had caused her to give birth prematurely – Nicole simply stared at her, stunned.

  ‘Liv! That’s out of order!’ Richard said angrily behind her.

  ‘Sorry.’ Olivia pouted. ‘I’m just stating a fact: you’re not going to hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet other than her dog’s, are you?’

  Not happy at Richard having, for once, not taken her side, Olivia had decided to make a point of not eating with them. Nicole didn’t care what she did. She was still in a state of shock. Why would she say such an awful thing? Was it her? Was she being oversensitive? Olivia was young, spoiled and clearly thoughtless. But she wasn’t a teenager, someone whose horribleness might be blamed on raging hormones. She was a young woman. She must have known how hurtful her comments would be.

  She clearly did hate her. Staring down at her plate, Nicole pushed her food around. She couldn’t eat it. She doubted she’d be able to swallow it past the sharp lump in her throat. She’d always wanted children – desperately wanted children. Even after she’d woken up to her reality, the terrifying situation she’d found herself trapped in, she’d still craved a child. But how could she have contemplated getting pregnant again and exposing a tiny human being to the violent mood swings she’d discovered her husband was capable of? The doctor had explained that another pregnancy was unlikely to end in miscarriage; that although she had an incompetent cervix – wouldn’t the misogynist have just loved it if she’d told him that: that it was her incompetence rather than his vicious blow that had killed her perfect baby? – there was a procedure they could carry out to make sure the pregnancy went full term. As long as she didn’t do anything silly to overtax herself, everything would almost certainly be fine, he’d said, smiling reassuringly. Such as falling down the stairs. That was the lie she’d told them. She should have had her vile husband arrested. Even though he’d said he would come back and kill her as soon as they let him go, she should have given a statement and run. Thinking they would release him within hours, as they had once before, she’d been too scared to. She’d been stupid and pathetic and weak. She still was. And Olivia could sense it.

  ‘You’re quiet,’ Richard observed, after a while. ‘And that fish isn’t faring too well.’

  Coming back from a past she found so painful to dwell on, Nicole realised she’d stirred her food into a sludge. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, downing her fork and looking up at him.

  Richard cocked his head to one side, his expression concerned. ‘For?’

  ‘Everything,’ she said, feeling incredibly sad, which made her feel even worse about herself. She had everything now to live for: a good man, a beautiful home, all she could wish for. Apart from Olivia.

  ‘Look, Nicole…’ Getting to his feet, Richard walked around to her, placed an arm around her shoulders and took hold of her hand. ‘Whatever it is you imagine you have to be sorry for, you don’t. It’s me who should be apologising. What Liv said earlier was thoughtless and cruel.’

  ‘It was.’ Nicole glimpsed up at him and then back to her plate.

  Straightening up, Richard sighed and plunged his hands into his pockets. ‘I know it’s difficult having her here, but I can’t ask her to go, Nicole, at least not until she has a job and a place of her own lined up, not after all that happened.’

  He was referring to the sexual assault, which Nicole had struggled even more to make sense of since speaking to Peter.

  ‘Can you bear to put up with her a little longer?’ Richard’s voice was hopeful.

  Nicole answered with a small nod. She wasn’t about to tell him he had to ask his daughter to leave. It would only cause trouble between them, and then Olivia would win whatever unfathomable game it was she was playing.

  But she couldn’t leave it there. Hearing him talk of having little ones around, she had to ask him. Bracing herself, Nicole took a breath and looked up at him. ‘Did you want more children?’ she asked him, searching his face. ‘Do you?’

  ‘Nicole…’ He sighed again, heavily, and closed his eyes. ‘I did once, yes. But now, I only want whatever makes you happy.’

  Again, Nicole nodded, but her heart skipped a beat. If he had once wanted more children, then he must still, surely. Was it too late? She was thirty-eight now, but could she at least try? It would certainly be a wanted child if she succeeded. A child that might bind them together – and show Olivia that she wasn’t the centre of his attention.

  TWENTY-NINE

  REBECCA

  PRESENT

  ‘Well?’ Olivia asked, practically bursting with anticipation as she dashed from her bedroom to meet Rebecca coming upstairs.

  ‘Let’s just say we’re making future plans,’ Rebecca answered, with an enigmatic smile.

  ‘Yesss!’ Olivia flew towards her as she reached the landing, throwing her arms around her with such enthusiasm that she almost bowled her over. ‘I knew it! You two are just made for each other. You only have to see the way he’s been looking at you to realise he’s falling in love with you. I’m so happy for you, Becky. It’s just the best news—’

  ‘Hold on.’ Rebecca laughed, cutting her off mid gush, while discreetly extracting herself from Olivia’s over-exuberant hug. ‘We’re just discussing my moving in here, Liv. We haven’t made any concrete plans yet.’

  Olivia’s face dropped. ‘But you will move in?’ she asked worriedly. ‘You have to. I can’t possibly go off to my new job and leave Dad broken-hearted all over again.’

  ‘You’ve got a job?’ Rebecca was surprised. She’d gathered that Olivia had been looking for one, on and off, but she hadn’t realised she’d actually got one.

  ‘In Birmingham,’ Olivia confirmed. ‘I don’t start for a couple of months, but I was thinking of flat-sharing with a friend, rather than commuting. I probably won’t, though, if it means Dad’s going to be on his… Damn. Sorry, that sounded like I was pressurising you. What I meant was, I can always postpone the flat-share for a while and take the train. It’s not cast in stone yet.’

  Rebecca studied her, wary of Olivia’s overt concern for her father. It seemed almost as if Olivia were the parent. Richard and she would have formed a strong father-and-daughter relationship, she supposed, after her mother died, but she seemed rather overprotective of his feelings. ‘There’s a lot to think about, Liv,’ she pointed out. ‘I have to go back to France and sort out my affairs there, work my notice at the college. Then there’s Sam. I’d need to talk to him, obviously.’

  ‘So it’s just the practicalities then?’ Olivia’s expression was hopeful.

  ‘To a degree, yes, but…’ Rebecca hesitated. Already her emotions felt compromised, her inability to find the flaws in the man and her physical desire for him clouding her judgement. She couldn’t allow that to happen. ‘I need to be sure, Liv,’ she said carefully. ‘Your father does, too. I shouldn’t imagine either of us wants to be doing this for the wrong reasons.’

  Olivia nodded slowly. ‘You think he might be rushing into things?’ she asked.

  ‘I do, yes.’ Again, Rebecca answered carefully. Having no reticence about a decision that would affect the rest of her life simply wouldn’t be natural. ‘He’s barely had time to draw breath since losing Nicole, has he?’

  ‘No,’ Olivia
agreed. ‘But then, he wouldn’t be doing this at all, would he, if he hadn’t met you at her funeral.’

  ‘True,’ Rebecca conceded, guessing what might be coming next.

  ‘I think it’s fate.’ Olivia sighed romantically. ‘You both needed someone, and you both found someone. Under tragic circumstances, yes, but that doesn’t mean your feelings for each other are any less true. You shouldn’t feel guilty about falling in love, Becky. I doubt Nicole would want you to. She would be happy for you. She was that kind of person – caring and generous. She would hate it if she thought she was standing in the way of your future happiness.’

  Nice little speech, Rebecca couldn’t help thinking. She was sure Nicole would have been a lot happier if she were alive.

  ‘You do love him, don’t you?’ Olivia said quickly, as Rebecca tried not to let her cynicism show.

  ‘I think so, yes,’ she said, giving the girl what she wanted to hear.

  ‘Then you’re not doing anything wrong. You’re simply following your heart.’ Olivia’s expression was earnest. ‘There’s no point delaying what’s meant to be out of some sense of loyalty, Becky. Life’s too short,’ she said, as if Rebecca wasn’t aware of that fact. ‘You two are right for each other. It’s just so obvious from the outside.’

  Rebecca smiled indulgently. It seemed Olivia was determined for this to happen, whatever she said. Strange that someone so protective of her father would be so eager to push him into the arms of someone neither of them really knew that well.