Springtime at Hope Hall Read online

  The first call to his phone came at quarter to ten. There was another at ten o’clock, and two more within the next twenty minutes. They were all from Carol. Phil did glance at his phone and saw she’d called, but he had just met up with the team, and the MD was giving them a pep talk. He’d ring back later, if he had chance.

  Then Rob rang – at twelve-twenty-five, and again at five to two. At three-fifteen, Carol rang one last time. Phil didn’t manage to answer any of the calls.

  It was with a great sense of satisfaction that Phil finally closed the car door and drove away from the conference centre. What a day! He knew he’d made a good impression. The MD had said as much when he shook Phil’s hand as they were both leaving. There was the whiff of promotion in the air, a management place left vacant by Matt Benson, who’d recently left to head up a department in a rival company. That job would be just right for Phil. He was the perfect fit, and it looked as if the MD was thinking along those lines too.

  The phone rang, and he clicked to take the call from his friend Rob.

  “Hi, Rob. Sorry I couldn’t ring back earlier. Busy day.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve been busy too. Dreadful business with Carol this morning.”

  “What business?”

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t spoken to her!”

  “No, I’ve been tied up for hours. What happened?”

  “Her car broke down on the dual carriageway at the height of the rush hour. It caused quite an incident. Traffic piled up behind her, and tempers got very frayed until the police arrived. She had Little Joe with her and they were both really upset, so the police looked after them until I could get there to tow the car away.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know. Poor Carol.”

  “The car’s a complete write-off. In fact, the police are thinking of pressing charges because of all the things that were wrong with it.”

  “Oh!” For the first time, Phil sounded as if he might be genuinely worried.

  “I think I managed to stave them off by promising that the next stop for that mess of a vehicle would be the breaker’s yard.”

  “What, you mean it really is a write-off?”

  “More than that, the police said it was a death-trap.”

  Rob could practically hear his friend gulp at this news.

  Finally, Phil said, “Well, sorry you got dragged into this – thanks for sorting it all out with the police, mate.”

  “I think it’s Carol who needs the apology.”

  “Yeah, of course. I’ll talk to her tonight. I suppose I’ll have to look for another car for her now, which we could definitely do without at the moment.”

  “No problem. It’s all organized. A car came into the garage for part exchange yesterday afternoon. It’s absolutely perfect for her. Carol loved it the moment she saw it.”

  “Oh, right…” Phil’s voice was uncertain. “How much is it?”

  “Three and a half thousand pounds, but it’ll last her for a good few years.”

  “No chance, mate. We can’t stretch to that.”

  “But you already have. Carol nipped down to the building society straight away and drew the cash out. The car is hers. I expect she’ll be wanting to show you all its great features the moment you get home.”

  There was a stunned silence at the other end of the line.

  “Got to go,” said Rob. “A customer’s just come in.” He put down the phone and looked across the garage waiting room towards Carol and Jen, who were sipping glasses of Prosecco on the battered settee, with Little Joe propped up between them munching a chocolate biscuit. Suddenly, the room exploded with noise as the two girls shrieked and hugged each other, and Rob roared with laughter.

  “He swallowed the whole story just as we thought he would. I don’t know how I managed not to laugh out loud when he sounded so shocked at the price you’ve just paid for your new car, Carol.”

  “Well,” spluttered Jen, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “That rainstorm this morning was so perfectly timed. No wonder he believed every word. You told him enough times that your car kept breaking down, so it was absolutely possible that it might just come to a grinding halt on a rainy day like today, in the middle of the dual carriageway in the rush hour, and cause a massive jam.”

  “I love the bit you came up with about the police threatening to press charges over the state of the car,” squealed Carol, helpless with laughter.

  “It was a good job we knew Phil had to be away all day at that conference,” grinned Rob. “It was obvious he’d never answer his phone, not to me and not to you, whatever trouble you were in. So he did what we knew he’d do – he ignored my warnings, didn’t take our calls – so he can see that we had no choice but to sort things out ourselves. Your old car is at the scrapyard, where it belongs, and you are the proud owner of a beautiful new vehicle.”

  “And all the while,” said Jen, raising her glass, “Carol and I were sitting here snug and warm, nowhere near rain or roundabouts or policemen, drinking coffee and enjoying the thought of Phil getting his comeuppance!”

  “What happens when he realizes how we tricked him?” asked Carol, her voice now quieter. “What am I going to say to him?”

  “Now let me think,” retorted Jen. “Oh, I know! When it comes to taking someone for a ride, anything he can do, you can do better!”

  “I still can’t get over the way he lied to me. I really thought we had no secrets.”

  Jen leaned across to put an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “I know, love. You two have got some talking to do.”

  “We’ve all got some talking to do,” said Rob firmly. “We four are best friends, and nothing’s going to change that. But Phil’s been acting out of order, and today we’ve put that right. We’re all going back to your house now to welcome Phil home, show him how delighted you and Little Joe are with the new car – and tell the old skinflint that he’s going to have to start saving up again for that wreck of a bike of his!”

  Chapter 5

  Maggie always looked forward to every other Sunday when Darren and his partner Sonia came over for lunch. It was a routine that had worked very happily for the two years the couple had been together. Maggie had hoped that Darren might have popped the question by now. After all, it would be hard for her good-natured, warm-hearted son to find a girl more suitable, practical, devoted and loyal than Sonia. It seemed, though, that the modern generation had a more relaxed attitude to the way in which a couple’s commitment to each other should be expressed. While Maggie was thinking about marriage, Darren and Sonia had casually started living together and found they liked it that way. While she thought weddings, they thought mortgages, and even though the possibility of saving enough for a deposit was a distant dream, the couple were determined to put every possible penny into their house fund rather than rush out to choose wedding rings.

  Oh well, thought Maggie, in her usual, practical manner. I look dreadful in a hat anyway.

  So, when Darren suggested a break to the usual Sunday routine, Maggie wondered what could be important enough to have him making a special effort to see her on a Thursday evening. It was probably nothing, but as she watched her stocky, sandy-haired son walking up the garden path, she realized her heart was thumping.

  They hugged. Maggie immediately put the kettle on and cut slices of Darren’s favourite chocolate cake to have with their tea. They talked about the weather and the latest episode of EastEnders. And then, finally, laying his empty cup down on the coffee table, Darren cleared his throat before searching in his jacket pocket to draw out a long white envelope. Maggie recognized Dave’s handwriting on the front straight away.

  “Dad asked me to give you this.” His eyes didn’t meet hers as he spoke.

  Maggie made no move to take the letter. “Why? Why couldn’t he just send it in the post – or, even better, come himself – if he has anything to say to me?”

  “I don’t know, Mum, but he said it was important and you should see it. He thinks you mig
ht throw any letter that comes from him in the post straight into the bin, and he wanted to make sure that didn’t happen. He said to tell you that you must read it.”

  Her hand was shaking as she stretched out to take it, her fingers fumbling to open the envelope.

  “Here, let me,” he offered, taking the envelope back from her and sliding his finger along the top to open it.

  “I haven’t got my glasses,” she mumbled.

  “Shall I get them for you?”

  “No, I don’t think I’d be able to make out the words even then. Would you mind—”

  “Reading it for you? I will, if you’re sure that’s what you want.”

  “I’m not sure of anything, Darren. Nothing at all.”

  He sat down on the sofa beside his mum, so that they could both watch as he slowly removed the letter to discover that there were two pages, one on top of the other. The top one had Mandy’s address as a heading, and was dated two days earlier. The text had been neatly typed before Dave had added his signature at the bottom.

  “Dave can’t type,” snapped Maggie. “That woman must have typed all this and made him sign it.”

  Darren reached over to take his mother’s hand before he started reading.

  Dear Maggie

  This letter is to inform you fully of my situation. There are several actions that need to be taken at this time, and I hope you will understand that it’s urgent we get matters between us formalized as soon as possible.

  I am delighted to say that Mandy is pregnant. It wasn’t something we planned, but it has happened and we couldn’t be happier. I hope you will find it in your heart to welcome this new baby into our family circle.

  Obviously, I now have to make arrangements for my new responsibility. Mandy’s house is only rented, and really is too small for the two of us when we have Belle and Marlin to consider too. The new baby deserves a more settled start in life than this. Our family needs a house of our own, and because you have always been a wonderful parent yourself, a homemaker and a very kind person, I am sure you are sensible enough to understand that.

  So even though this may be happening faster than you would want, I have been to a solicitor to start divorce proceedings. His letter is enclosed with this one. I’m sure you’ll agree that we need to put this behind us without delay, so that we can all get on with our lives.

  It will mean that our house must be sold. The mortgage is all paid up, and my solicitor says that I am entitled to the full fifty per cent of its value. I have rung Morgan’s estate agents on the High Street, and they will be contacting you this week to arrange a time to measure up and give us a valuation. If you’re working and can’t be there for their visit or any future viewings, do ring me and I’ll come to the house to show people round myself. I’d be very happy to do that if it helps make things more convenient for you.

  There are certain pieces of furniture and other items I would like to collect from the house, some of which we really need right away. I want the complete contents of the she’d, as that has always been more my area than yours anyway. That includes the lawn mower, the new barbecue, all the ladders and most of the tools, except the older ones. Obviously the kitchen is where you prefer to be, but I do intend to take the electric knife, the microwave, the halogen oven, and the crystal whisky glass set that my Auntie Dot gave us when we married. The decanter should come too, so the set stays together.

  We’re okay for crockery, as Mandy has more modern taste than you, so please feel free to keep all that. You’ll remember that when we decided to buy the big television in the lounge, you said it could be for my birthday, so that TV is mine, along with both games consoles and all the DVDs. I’d like the big coffee table too, and the sofa that turns into a bed settee. I’m taking the new vacuum cleaner, because you’ve got two at the house and the one here isn’t working. We need to talk about your car as well. We got that estate to carry your catering things around, but I really need an estate car now. My car is a bit newer, so you can have mine and I’ll keep the estate. I think that’s fair. Please let me know when I can come with a van to collect all these items and everything else at the house that is rightfully mine.

  In my newfound happiness, I still realize how much this has hurt you, and want you to know that was never our intention. I hope that any upset will soon be over and that we can look forward to being good friends and coparents to our enlarged family in the future.

  Yours sincerely

  David Stapleton

  Maggie let out a squeal of anger. Mild-mannered, gentle Maggie – the woman who was always in the kitchen, always looking after others, always devoted to her family – thumped her fists into the sofa cushions until the tears came and she collapsed into Darren’s arms, sobbing until there was no breath left in her. When she finally slumped back into the seat, Darren disentangled himself and went to fetch her a small glass of sherry from the drinks cabinet.

  “I don’t want that.”

  “You always said it was good for shock. You’re in shock.”

  “I can’t drink it.”

  “Oh well,” said Darren, downing the dark brown liquid in one gulp. “I’m in shock too. I can’t believe Dad would write that.”

  “He didn’t. She did. Your dad can’t string two words together on paper. I’ve always written his letters. Now she’s his secretary, along with every other role in his life that she’s taken from me.”

  “Are you going to reply?”

  “What can I say? There are no polite words to answer that insulting, patronizing, selfish, cruel piece of rubbish!”

  “But the estate agent? Can you do anything about that?”

  “Your dad can’t sell this house. It’s our home. It’s been our home since we married. It’s your home. It’s mine. I live here. Where else would I go?”

  “Mum, I wonder if you need to see a solicitor too? You need to know what your rights are. If you’re going to fight this, you must get some professional help.”

  “How am I going to be able to afford a solicitor’s fee? They cost a fortune. I’m struggling to pay the bills every month as it is. I’ve got nothing to fight this with.”

  “Sonia and I will find whatever’s needed for the bill.”

  “No,” replied Maggie, covering his hand with hers. “No, that’s very kind of you, but you need the money for your deposit. It doesn’t look as if Dad and I will be able to help you out with that now, as we always planned, so you need to keep every penny you’ve saved for yourselves.”

  “We won’t let you go through this alone, Mum. We’re here for you.”

  “I know, love. I just need to calm down a bit and think.”

  “Would you like me to stay here tonight?”

  “No. I’ll be all right. In fact, I think it would be good to be on my own right now. Perhaps my thoughts will be a bit clearer then.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, you get on home. Give Sonia my love. Will I see you both on Sunday?”

  “We’d love to, if you’re up to it. I’ll ring you first thing tomorrow morning, Mum – and if you need anything tonight, you just call me. Promise?”

  “Promise,” she agreed, “but I’ll be fine.”

  With one long, emotion-filled hug, Darren finally closed the front door behind him. As Maggie watched him getting into his car, she knew what she had to do. Picking up the phone, she dialled the number she needed.

  “Hello?” said a familiar voice.

  “Kath, it’s Maggie. I’ve had a solicitor’s letter from Dave. It’s absolutely floored me—”

  “Put that kettle on. I’m on my way.”

  It was raining the following afternoon as they walked away from the office of Sewell & Co. Kath had known exactly which solicitor could best help Maggie. Brian Sewell and Kath served on the Good Neighbours executive committee together, and had always got on well. When he agreed to see Maggie immediately, Kath insisted on driving her friend to his office, which was more than ten miles away. Maggie had wor
ried about speaking to someone too local, because she had lived in their town all her life, and knew such a wide circle of people, especially because of her role as Catering Manager at Hope Hall. She was appalled at the idea of people knowing her business. This whole nightmare was so raw and shocking that she was finding it hard enough to cope with it herself, let alone having to pretend she was all right to people she hardly knew. Though some of them may well be genuine and full of sympathy, others were just as likely to be nothing more than nosey parkers.

  Kath steered her across the road to a small teashop, its windows steamed up against the miserable weather. Inside, though, the aroma of coffee, the chintzy tables decorated with small jugs of fresh flowers, the serving area displaying cakes, savouries and sandwiches, and a friendly waitress all welcomed them in like a big warm hug. With her professional eye, Maggie peered at each cake and pastry in turn before she made her final choice of a huge slab of lemon meringue pie with a dollop of clotted cream. Then they made their way to a quiet corner table while they waited for their order to arrive.

  “I’ve always wanted a place like this,” sighed Maggie. “To have a little café serving every kind of cake under the sun – that’s been my dream since I was at school and first discovered that academic subjects weren’t for me. Then I started Home Economics – that’s what they used to call cookery classes in those days – and I felt as if I’d come home the moment I walked into that kitchen. I’d found my passion.”

  The waitress brought across their drinks, a pot of Earl Grey tea for Kath, and a hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles and marshmallows for Maggie.

  “You know what they say,” she said, as she popped a pink marshmallow into her mouth. “A little of what you fancy…”

  “… does you good!” finished Kath. “You deserve something good, dear Maggie, with all the rubbish that’s landing on you at the moment. How do you feel after that meeting?”