Taken at the Flood Page 2

  “Well?” he enquired, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he waited expectantly for our reply.

  “Darling, I think we can put Mr Hawkins out of his misery, don’t you?” Evelyn said.

  “I knew you’d like it. A lovely property and I hope you’ll both be very happy in your new home.” He closed the cover on his clipboard and sighed contentedly.

  “I’m sure we shall, Mr Hawkins, as I told you, on the telephone, if we liked the property we’ll meet the asking price and top any other offers you may receive during our negotiations.”

  “Now, when can we move in?” Evelyn asked, hardly able to contain her pleasure.

  The estate agent confirmed that, as soon as the paperwork was completed, we could take up residence, adding, he didn’t envisage any delays.

  In the event the whole process took no more than a few weeks and during the second week of May, we moved into River House, Evelyn insisting there was no need to wait until the place was redecorated, as she loved it just the way it was. I remember laughing at her and telling her that was why I loved her, ‘just the way she was’. We ended up in our king-sized bed, half filled packing cases littering the floor, blissfully content and unaware that our removal to our ‘dream house’ in the country was destined to destroy us both.

  Chapter 5

  The light was beginning to fade; the subliminal flickering from my computer monitor making my eyes ache. The new programme was not working. I stared at the black screen and scratched the back of my head. Yesterday, it had worked perfectly. Twice today I had managed to complete without interruption but ever since I had hit trouble. Just as I was sure it would work out, a large red cross appeared in the centre of the screen with the words DATA ERROR flashing at intervals, until the whole programme crashed around my ears once again. Painstakingly slowly, I started to rebuild and analyse the components once more, until Evelyn’s car drew to a halt on the driveway beneath my study window. She looked up and waved. I went to meet her to help carry the mountain of packages she was already unloading from the boot. She’d been shopping in the city and I knew what to expect from such a trip.

  She could hardly contain her excitement, “I’ve got news,” she yelled in my ear, “I’m pregnant.”

  I put my arms around her and held her close, afraid she was jumping the gun again. She noticed my guarded expression and held my face in her hands.

  “It’s all right, I took a sample to Gordon last week and went to see him today to get the results. He confirmed it. I am pregnant.”

  Gordon Marchant was our GP I felt her body relax against mine, as a wave of intense happiness swept over me. “That’s fantastic news. River House has been waiting for a baby; not just any baby, our baby.” I spun her round and our laughter filled the air.

  The following Friday we attended a preliminary meeting with Lucas Bennett, the obstetrician, who would be looking after Evelyn throughout her pregnancy. Gordon had told us that he was the top man in his field and I saw no reason to doubt his judgement. At the end of the visit, he made an appointment for us to return in a few weeks time in order to conduct the initial scan.

  Spring was in the air and in our steps as we walked back to the car and drove to River House.

  During the following week, Evelyn returned, from yet another afternoon shopping trip, with even more news. “You’ll never guess who I met today,” she said, as I placed the inevitable mound of carrier bags on the kitchen table and started back for more.

  “Wait a second, go and sit in the study and I’ll bring you a hot drink. Then you can tell me all about it.” I closed the boot of her car and drove it into the garage, then made coffee for us both and joined her in my study. She was standing at my desk.

  “Trouble?” A line of meaningless codes flashed at intervals on the screen in front of her.

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” I answered sounding more positive than I felt. “Now tell me all about this mysterious person you met in town.”

  She sat on the couch and patted the space alongside her. Like an obedient puppy, I sat beside her and she cuddled into me, stretching her legs over my knees for me to massage her toes. “Do you remember me telling you about my friend Josie Rawlingson? We’d been friends at school and were really close.”

  “I do.”

  “Well, after leaving school, Josie went to work in Switzerland. I haven’t seen or heard from her for years, except for the odd Christmas and Birthday card usually sent from far flung places, until today.” She sipped her coffee and I waited for her to continue. “I was in ‘Harvey Nicks’ at the perfume counter when I heard someone say ‘Evelyn Wallis, it is you isn’t it?’ I felt a hand placed on my shoulder and there was Josie. Apparently, she’s married someone in banking and has done very well for herself.”

  “Oh good,” I muttered, becoming bored with the exploits of Josie Rawlingson and a chance encounter, as it was unlikely we would ever meet. But, my sarcasm did not escape my wife’s notice.

  “Before you switch off completely, I’ve also discovered who our neighbours are; the ones living in the houses we can see through the trees.”

  My interest mildly reawakened, I waited for her explanation. Evelyn was enjoying herself now and made me wait, sipping her coffee and reaching for a biscuit, playing to her audience and increasing the suspense.

  “OK, you’ve got my full attention, who?” I asked in exasperation.

  “Josie and her husband Henry live in one.”

  “Really?”

  “And Mr and Mrs Lucas Bennett live in the other.”

  “Good heavens, you mean Bennett your obstetrician? What a coincidence!”

  “My feelings exactly. Convenient wouldn’t you say?” She took my hand and placed it firmly over her abdomen

  “Perhaps not quite so convenient for Mr Bennett,” I said.

  Evelyn stretched her legs and sighed. “Josie is hoping to arrange a get-together soon, so we’ll have a chance to meet the neighbours.”

  “There can’t be many of those surely.”

  “No, well, actually it will be just us and Mr and Mrs Bennett. I hope it won’t be too dreary for you.

  I groaned. Bennett was approaching sixty and I couldn’t think he and I would have much in common, other than my wife’s pregnancy, which would be a subject I would naturally wish to avoid, outside his consulting rooms. I knew what it felt like to be approached, at a party, by some computer enthusiast with no other topic of conversation. I could only hope Josie’s husband would be nearer my own age and we would be able to find some common ground between us.

  The following week we received an invitation from the house through the trees. Josie rang, spoke to Evelyn and the party was arranged for Saturday night.

  It was a warm night and I stood by the window and watched Evelyn dressing. She was wearing a red satin dress with some sort of flimsy chiffon overskirt, which hid the, non-existent, swelling of her abdomen – the one she insisted was most definitely there. I thought she looked radiant. Her curly dark hair shone as brightly as the diamond earrings I’d bought her in Tiffany’s when Softcell Systems had secured our first large contract in the States.

  “Bit pretentious to insist on a black tie do for the neighbours, don’t you think?” I pointed out, whilst struggling with my tie.

  “Here, let me.” She gently pushed my hand aside. “Not if you knew Josie. She loves entertaining, loves showing off. Everything has to be just right. She was always the same, even when we were young. The difference is now she has married a man with money and can afford to indulge her whims.” She smiled up at me. “When we were children, she always said she’d marry a millionaire, she never mentioned love. Whilst I, I’ll have you know, insisted I’d never marry for money, only for love.”

  I kissed the top of her head as she patted my perfectly knotted bow tie. I had a strong feeling tonight was going to be a disaster. To me Josie sounded a pretentious individual and I’d already anticipated that her husband was bound to be a pompous bore. Bu
t I kept my thoughts to myself, hoping I’d be able to see ‘the something’ in Josie that had made her one of my wife’s childhood friends. I decided to trust Evelyn’s natural good sense; after all, she had chosen me to be her husband.

  “I wonder what Mrs Bennett will be like? I said, helping her on with her coat.

  The ever-thoughtful Josie had arranged for their car to pick us up at seven thirty. I thought it was kind of her, especially as it was only a short drive to their house, but apparently, she’d insisted so I could have a drink and relax. Perhaps Josie wasn’t going to be too bad after all.

  The Dangerfields’ house was no larger than ours, the grounds not as pleasantly landscaped, but somehow it seemed grander, more impressive. The large electronically operated gates swung open as we arrived, revealing a red brick paved driveway. The chauffeur opened the car door for us and we walked the short distance to a doorway, above which stood a lantern throwing a welcoming glow over the porch.

  Josie opened the door, her dark hair elaborately piled up on top of her head. She threw her arms around my wife. “Darlings so glad you could come. Nice to meet you at last,” she said, hugging me and air-kissing my cheek. So, this was Josie. Not at all what I had imagined. I was pleasantly surprised.

  Inside the house, the furnishings were a sumptuous mixture of good taste and plenty of money, which do not necessarily always go together. It appeared we were the first to arrive.

  The evening was destined to be full of surprises. Not only was Josie nothing like I’d imagined, neither was her husband. Henry Dangerfield was a good-looking man a little older than I, with a shock of curly dark hair, a pleasant smile and seated in a wheelchair. He shook my hand and asked what I would like to drink then pressed a button on the arm of his chair and glided over to a well-stocked bar in the corner of the room. Josie was talking to my wife and I thought I heard the words ‘riding accident’.

  “How are you settling in at River House? Bit of a change from the city, I should imagine.” Henry handed me a generous tumbler of whiskey.

  “You could say that, although I must admit I enjoy spending as much time as possible working from home now, less stress - you know how it is.”

  “Thank God for computers, eh?” He had a pleasant smile “They have been a life saver for me. They are a means by which I can keep tabs on what’s happening, without having to move from my chair, which under the circumstances…” His voice trailed off and I felt it necessary to make some sort of comment.

  “Have you been using your chair for long?” Banal, I bit my lip, what sort of crass remark was that? Henry Dangerfield, sensing my embarrassment, smiled again.

  “I had an accident some years ago at a polo match.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No need, there’s nothing I can do about it and I’ve learned to live with the situation. I met Josie at a polo match actually. She was with my brother’s girlfriend, they’d come to watch us play.”

  Henry, watching the two women, raised his glass in Josie’s direction. I remained silent, unable to adequately express my sympathy for the man sitting in front of me. Then the doorbell rang.

  “You must excuse me, that must be Lucas and Leonora,” Henry said, propelling his chair into the hallway to greet his guests.

  Lucas Bennett entered the room alone. I recognised the tall, slightly overweight figure, with the thick snow-white hair, from our recent visit to his clinic. He walked towards me his hand outstretched in greeting.

  “Good to see you again,” he said, his handshake firm and slightly chill from the evening air and I thought maybe he and his wife had walked from their house, the gates of which we’d passed at the bottom of the Dangerfields’ drive.

  From the hallway, I heard the sound of voices, Henry’s deep and resonant and a woman’s light and pleasant with just the hint of an accent, which I tried to place without success. I had my back to them and heard the sound of Henry’s wheelchair gliding across the wooden floor behind me as Lucas Bennett raised his hand.

  “Ah, Leonora my dear, come and meet our new neighbour.”

  I was unprepared and my face must have shown it. I had expected to see a woman in her late fifties, slightly plump, hair going grey. I turned and my mouth fell open in surprise - it was the girl in the gondola, her pale blonde hair shining in the light from the Dangerfields’ massive chandelier. In a voice unable to disguise a hint of boredom in its timbre, she said, “How do you do?”

  Chapter 6

  Closing my mouth, I stammered a reply, as her hand as cold as a witch’s claw slipped inside my own. I remember little of the rest of the conversation that evening. I know I spent most of the time listening, or appearing to, contributing only when not to would have caused embarrassment. Evelyn sparkled, spicing up mundane remarks with wit and good humour.

  I found Henry Dangerfield to be an amusing and amenable host and felt drawn to this unassuming man who coped so admirably with his disability. His wife Josie was the perfect hostess and I thought I could see a glimpse of the strength of personality she kept hidden beneath a charming surface. However, to say that I was impervious to Leonora Bennett’s obvious attributes would be a lie. The incongruous pairing, of the eminent obstetrician who was old enough to be her father and the fey young girl who spoke little but whose presence it was impossible to ignore, remained an enigma.

  During the evening, I noticed both my wife and Josie trying to draw Leonora into their conversation. They suggested she join them on a shopping trip the following week but I felt the whole time she stood apart, assessing the situation, unwilling to commit to relationships, which might bore her. At the time I felt it was youthful immaturity, which made her hold back until she was sure of us and that in itself held an appeal all of its own.

  It was a strange evening. Throughout the meal, I sat opposite Leonora with Josie on my left and Evelyn on my right, Henry and Lucas sitting either side of Leonora. The conversation was light, the food delicious but I felt unable to relax in her company, yet part of me wanted to stay watching her face, even though her incredible eyes did not seek mine and I don’t remember her speaking directly to me all evening.

  After dinner, the women took a tour of the house. Josie wanted to show Evelyn some fabric she had bought for the bedroom curtains. Henry handed around the port and cigars and I found myself asking, “Where did you and your wife meet, Lucas?”

  To my surprise, he started to laugh. “Don’t mind me. You see most people have a shock when they see Leo. I can see it in their eyes; they wonder what she sees in me. You are a little more subtle, my friend, but the question is there just the same.”

  I tried to protest but knew that to do so would only make things worse.

  “I met her in Italy, as a matter of fact. We were staying in the same hotel and her luggage had gone astray. I helped her out and it rather developed from there. Even now, I can’t quite believe my luck when I wake up every morning next to such a perfect creature.”

  He raised his glass to his lips.

  “I thought I could detect the faint traces of an accent. Does your wife visit Italy often?” I asked.

  “She has an elderly relative living in Tuscany. Leo speaks fluent Italian but when I met her she was without her luggage in which she’d packed her travellers cheques. She was completely at a loss. Her vulnerability was very appealing, as you can imagine. Her intention had been to stay in the hotel for a short holiday before visiting her aunt who lived in a small village in the back of beyond. Not the sort of place to be of much interest to a young woman apparently but she said she felt it her duty to visit as often as she could, as she was her only relative.”

  “Really? What happened to your wife’s parents?” I asked.

  “Leo doesn’t like to talk about it but I gather it was some sort of accident when she was thirteen, after which she lived with her aunt in Italy until she was eighteen. Then she came to England as a nanny but it didn’t work out. I later discovered that she’d spent some time as a receptionist in Gr
eat Ormond Street. We have hospital life in common, you see.”

  “Yes I can see that must be useful.”

  He looked at me over the rim of his glass assessing if I was being sarcastic. He decided I wasn’t and continued, “It wasn’t all we had in common as it turned out. Leonora liked watching football. She’d been a fan of her local Italian team when she was growing up and when in London followed West Ham. As Henry knows, I have been a lifelong supporter and one thing led to another. Even so, I was really taken aback when I found out she was interested in my body as well as my mind!”

  Henry spluttered, “Succinctly put if I may say so.”

  “Well wouldn’t you have been shocked? I know she’s young enough to be my daughter and maybe that was half the attraction for her. Initially, I think she looked upon me as a kind of father figure. Not now, mind you. I think we have progressed in our relationship, grown together, if you get my drift?”

  “What are you three looking so guilty about?” Josie, followed by our wives, entered the room. She kissed the top of her husband’s head. “Time for coffee and cognac I think.”

  As the evening drew to a close, I decided I liked Josie and Henry Dangerfield and was pleased they were our neighbours: as for the Bennetts, well that remained to be seen.