love you. Please forgive me .’? There had been nothing of his relationship with his family at all. Peter pushed to the back of his mind thoughts about Patrick’s relationship with Suzy. If he was as icy-cold in his life as he had been in his letter of death, maybe their marriage had not been idyllic.
The phone rang.
‘Caroline here. Is everything all right with Suzy? I had to dash, I was running late.’
‘Yes. The police have moved the reporters on and there’s a constable outside the door. Darling, can I come into Culworth and take you out to lunch?’
‘I’d love that – what a nice surprise! See you about twelve-thirty outside Casualty. Bye, darling.’
When he got back from his lunch with Caroline, Suzy’s mother called round to say that she and her husband were taking Suzy and the girls to live with them for a few days. They’d be leaving tomorrow. Could Peter call in this afternoon while they took the children out and advise their daughter about Patrick’s cremation? Suzy didn’t want the girls to overhear, as she had no intention of them going to it …
It was about three o’clock when Peter saw the girls set out with Suzy’s parents. He waited five minutes and then went round. The constable had gone and the reporters were nowhere to be seen. Suzy answered the door. He’d expected her to be in black but she was wearing a bright pink shirt and white trousers, with her hair tied up in a pink ribbon. Only the dark shadows under her eyes showed her distress. She took his hand and drew him in. They discussed Patrick’s cremation. The police had told her that it would be some time before his body would be released: post mortem etc, etc.
‘I want no one there. I’ll go by myself. I shall put his ashes in the bin. No, no, it’s no good protesting, I shall do just that. And I’m staying in this house. The children are upset enough without moving them to a strange place. And, Peter, I don’t want you at the cremation. No one – just me. Then I can forget him. Do you know, we had not made love for over a year? Fancy that. I’ve not told anyone that but you. Don’t really know why I’m telling you. Yes, I do. Yes, I do. Please comfort me, please.’
Suzy reached out her hand as she finished speaking and took hold of his arm. Peter lifted her hand and held it to his cheek, then turned it over and kissed the palm.
Chapter 5
Muriel, taking Pericles for his afternoon walk, had stopped for a rest on the seat under The Royal Oak on the green. She’d seen Peter go into Suzy Meadows’ house and had decided to have a word with him when he came out. She needed to know if Suzy wanted help with the children. Muriel quite fancied having the three of them for the afternoon some time. Poor little mites. She hoped they were too young to understand fully what had happened. Little Rosie in particular would never remember her father. He’d always been strange, had Patrick. It really wasn’t surprising that he had committed suicide – though with so much to live for at home, how could he leave them all?
The sun had gone in and it had become quite chilly. She decided that she was only making an excuse to have some one to talk to. That was it – she was so lonely she had to make up excuses to talk to people. What must it be like, to be grateful for a moment of peace and quiet? Fancy being so busy, so very busy that being left alone felt like a bonus.
That was it, then. She would march purposefully across the green, down Shepherd’s Hill and cross the spare land and walk by Turnham Beck. Pericles liked rooting about on the banks. Do something positive, she had read in a magazine article. Yes, positive . Her brown walking shoes made quite a brisk noise as she set off determinedly for the beck.
It must have been over an hour before she came back into Shepherd’s Hill and turned up Jacks Lane. As she came out at the top of the lane and crossed to her house she glanced towards the rectory and saw Peter leaving
The phone rang.
‘Caroline here. Is everything all right with Suzy? I had to dash, I was running late.’
‘Yes. The police have moved the reporters on and there’s a constable outside the door. Darling, can I come into Culworth and take you out to lunch?’
‘I’d love that – what a nice surprise! See you about twelve-thirty outside Casualty. Bye, darling.’
When he got back from his lunch with Caroline, Suzy’s mother called round to say that she and her husband were taking Suzy and the girls to live with them for a few days. They’d be leaving tomorrow. Could Peter call in this afternoon while they took the children out and advise their daughter about Patrick’s cremation? Suzy didn’t want the girls to overhear, as she had no intention of them going to it …
It was about three o’clock when Peter saw the girls set out with Suzy’s parents. He waited five minutes and then went round. The constable had gone and the reporters were nowhere to be seen. Suzy answered the door. He’d expected her to be in black but she was wearing a bright pink shirt and white trousers, with her hair tied up in a pink ribbon. Only the dark shadows under her eyes showed her distress. She took his hand and drew him in. They discussed Patrick’s cremation. The police had told her that it would be some time before his body would be released: post mortem etc, etc.
‘I want no one there. I’ll go by myself. I shall put his ashes in the bin. No, no, it’s no good protesting, I shall do just that. And I’m staying in this house. The children are upset enough without moving them to a strange place. And, Peter, I don’t want you at the cremation. No one – just me. Then I can forget him. Do you know, we had not made love for over a year? Fancy that. I’ve not told anyone that but you. Don’t really know why I’m telling you. Yes, I do. Yes, I do. Please comfort me, please.’
Suzy reached out her hand as she finished speaking and took hold of his arm. Peter lifted her hand and held it to his cheek, then turned it over and kissed the palm.
Chapter 5
Muriel, taking Pericles for his afternoon walk, had stopped for a rest on the seat under The Royal Oak on the green. She’d seen Peter go into Suzy Meadows’ house and had decided to have a word with him when he came out. She needed to know if Suzy wanted help with the children. Muriel quite fancied having the three of them for the afternoon some time. Poor little mites. She hoped they were too young to understand fully what had happened. Little Rosie in particular would never remember her father. He’d always been strange, had Patrick. It really wasn’t surprising that he had committed suicide – though with so much to live for at home, how could he leave them all?
The sun had gone in and it had become quite chilly. She decided that she was only making an excuse to have some one to talk to. That was it – she was so lonely she had to make up excuses to talk to people. What must it be like, to be grateful for a moment of peace and quiet? Fancy being so busy, so very busy that being left alone felt like a bonus.
That was it, then. She would march purposefully across the green, down Shepherd’s Hill and cross the spare land and walk by Turnham Beck. Pericles liked rooting about on the banks. Do something positive, she had read in a magazine article. Yes, positive . Her brown walking shoes made quite a brisk noise as she set off determinedly for the beck.
It must have been over an hour before she came back into Shepherd’s Hill and turned up Jacks Lane. As she came out at the top of the lane and crossed to her house she glanced towards the rectory and saw Peter leaving
Similar Books
