I’m so sorry I haven’t had a chance to talk with you today.’ He squeezes my shoulder and nods, his kind face creasing into a smile. ‘But you look well.’ His eyes rest on the plaster on my forehead and he hesitates a little. ‘And – er, I hear all’s good with you, you and Oli, and the business, that’s really great.’
‘Um – thanks.’ I don’t know what to say. Louisa gawps a little, and the Bowler Hat just smiles urbanely at us all – I want to hit him.
‘Jeremy,’ Mary Beth says, at his side. ‘They just split up.’ She kisses me on the cheek. ‘I’m so sorry, dear. We’re worried about you. Are you feeling OK? How’s the head?’
‘Um –’ I begin again, willing myself not to cry, it would be too awful. Mary Beth is pretty, with fluffy brown bobbed hair with bangs, as they say in the States, and she is dipping her slender hands into her pockets. She stands next to her husband, slightly tense. I can’t read the body language.
‘Oh, my goodness, I’m sorry,’ Jeremy says, looking taken aback. ‘I had no idea – well, gosh, I’m not back very often, I suppose, I hadn’t heard.’
‘It just happened, don’t worry,’ I say to him. His forehead crinkles up, like concertinaed folds of paper. ‘Are you – are you really off? I haven’t seen you at all.’
He nods. ‘I’m awfully sorry. We have a crazy early flight from Heathrow and we’re staying in a motel close by tonight.’ I’d forgotten, because I haven’t seen him for a while, how he has a curious turn of phrase, a combination of British time-warp gent and regular American guy. But he says things people here don’t say any more, like Austin Powers. ‘Need to get there and get some sleep, I guess,’ he says. He looks around the sitting room, his eyes scanning the paintings, the people, the old familiar things. ‘Lovely to be back here again, even if the reason’s a sad one.’ Mary Beth pats his arm.
‘How long’s it been since you were here?’ I say. ‘Erin and Ryder were still at school, weren’t they?’
Jeremy glances round. ‘Oh, about five years,’ he says. ‘Just been busy, you know? And now my mum and dad are both gone, have been for ten years now, there’s been less reason to visit Franty and Arvind. It’s just Mary Beth’s family’s in Indiana. We spend time with them in the summer. It’s so far to come, when we don’t have much vacation.’
‘Of course,’ I say.
He looks relieved that I understand. ‘Well, yes. That’s the way it’s been. Very sadly.’
I can’t help it, I give a ragged sigh. ‘There’s nowhere quite like Summercove, is there? It’s paradise down here, especially in summer. Oh, I’m going to miss it so much. I expect you will too, now it’s going.’
Jeremy looks quickly from left to right. ‘No,’ he says. I’m not sure what he’s saying no to. There’s a silence and then he says, ‘Actually, I don’t really think about the old days, if truth be told. It was all a long time ago.’ And then he takes Mary Beth’s hand, clutches it hurriedly, wincing as if he’s getting a headache. ‘So, we’re going . . .’ He kisses his sister again. ‘Bye, love,’ he says, and he hugs Louisa, hard. ‘Thank you . . . thank you for everything, Lou. You’re wonderful.’
He nods briefly again at me. ‘Lovely to see you, Natasha.’ Mary Beth raises her hand, and they are gone.
Louisa stares after them. ‘Oh, dear,’ she says, and her eyes are full of tears.
I go to her, put my arm round her. ‘You’ll see him soon,’ I say stupidly.
‘I won’t,’ she says, her smile sad. ‘He never comes back any more. Especially now Mummy and Dad are dead, you know.’
I nod. Their mother, Pamela, was Granny’s sister, a rather starchy old lady. She died about seven years ago, her husband before that. They’d come to Summercove, not as much as Louisa, but they were there.
Louisa’s face creases. ‘He only came back this time for me. Darling Jeremy.’ A
‘Um – thanks.’ I don’t know what to say. Louisa gawps a little, and the Bowler Hat just smiles urbanely at us all – I want to hit him.
‘Jeremy,’ Mary Beth says, at his side. ‘They just split up.’ She kisses me on the cheek. ‘I’m so sorry, dear. We’re worried about you. Are you feeling OK? How’s the head?’
‘Um –’ I begin again, willing myself not to cry, it would be too awful. Mary Beth is pretty, with fluffy brown bobbed hair with bangs, as they say in the States, and she is dipping her slender hands into her pockets. She stands next to her husband, slightly tense. I can’t read the body language.
‘Oh, my goodness, I’m sorry,’ Jeremy says, looking taken aback. ‘I had no idea – well, gosh, I’m not back very often, I suppose, I hadn’t heard.’
‘It just happened, don’t worry,’ I say to him. His forehead crinkles up, like concertinaed folds of paper. ‘Are you – are you really off? I haven’t seen you at all.’
He nods. ‘I’m awfully sorry. We have a crazy early flight from Heathrow and we’re staying in a motel close by tonight.’ I’d forgotten, because I haven’t seen him for a while, how he has a curious turn of phrase, a combination of British time-warp gent and regular American guy. But he says things people here don’t say any more, like Austin Powers. ‘Need to get there and get some sleep, I guess,’ he says. He looks around the sitting room, his eyes scanning the paintings, the people, the old familiar things. ‘Lovely to be back here again, even if the reason’s a sad one.’ Mary Beth pats his arm.
‘How long’s it been since you were here?’ I say. ‘Erin and Ryder were still at school, weren’t they?’
Jeremy glances round. ‘Oh, about five years,’ he says. ‘Just been busy, you know? And now my mum and dad are both gone, have been for ten years now, there’s been less reason to visit Franty and Arvind. It’s just Mary Beth’s family’s in Indiana. We spend time with them in the summer. It’s so far to come, when we don’t have much vacation.’
‘Of course,’ I say.
He looks relieved that I understand. ‘Well, yes. That’s the way it’s been. Very sadly.’
I can’t help it, I give a ragged sigh. ‘There’s nowhere quite like Summercove, is there? It’s paradise down here, especially in summer. Oh, I’m going to miss it so much. I expect you will too, now it’s going.’
Jeremy looks quickly from left to right. ‘No,’ he says. I’m not sure what he’s saying no to. There’s a silence and then he says, ‘Actually, I don’t really think about the old days, if truth be told. It was all a long time ago.’ And then he takes Mary Beth’s hand, clutches it hurriedly, wincing as if he’s getting a headache. ‘So, we’re going . . .’ He kisses his sister again. ‘Bye, love,’ he says, and he hugs Louisa, hard. ‘Thank you . . . thank you for everything, Lou. You’re wonderful.’
He nods briefly again at me. ‘Lovely to see you, Natasha.’ Mary Beth raises her hand, and they are gone.
Louisa stares after them. ‘Oh, dear,’ she says, and her eyes are full of tears.
I go to her, put my arm round her. ‘You’ll see him soon,’ I say stupidly.
‘I won’t,’ she says, her smile sad. ‘He never comes back any more. Especially now Mummy and Dad are dead, you know.’
I nod. Their mother, Pamela, was Granny’s sister, a rather starchy old lady. She died about seven years ago, her husband before that. They’d come to Summercove, not as much as Louisa, but they were there.
Louisa’s face creases. ‘He only came back this time for me. Darling Jeremy.’ A
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