Not What it Seems

  NOT WHAT IT SEEMS

  Pamela Fudge

  © Pamela Fudge 2013

  Pamela Fudge has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the authors of this work.

  First published in 2013 by Robert Hale Ltd.

  This edition published in 2019 by Endeavour Media Ltd.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter One

  2012

  We must have looked like any other couple, standing anxiously on the edge of the pavement outside of our home as we waved the youngest member of the family off to start a new life at university. Appearances can be deceptive, though, because our relationship was definitely not what it seemed.

  Straining to catch one last glimpse of the bright yellow Ford KA, I saw the matching teddy bear in the back window tilt to one side, fall over and disappear from sight. The next minute the car had also disappeared around a bend in the road.

  ‘That’s it then, Evie,’ Owen said, rubbing a hand across the bristles of his close-cropped fair hair and trying to sound matter-of-fact, ‘the end of family life as we’ve known it.’

  I thought I detected a slight wobble to his tone, though he was obviously making a valiant effort to keep his emotions in check. I didn’t trust myself to speak at all, just stood there at the kerb and thought about the empty nest behind us - an empty nest with a For Sale sign standing outside.

  The silence lengthened until I gave a little cough and found my voice. ‘Time to put into place our plans for Life-After-Children,’ I said firmly. ‘They’ve been lying dormant for a very long time, but now it’s time to get them out, dust them off, and put them into action. Isn’t that right, Owen? And that,’ I indicated the For Sale sign, ‘is the first step.’

  ‘Too right,’ he said, injecting a hearty but transparently forced note into his voice.

  It was only as we turned away from the kerb that I realised Owen still had his arm carelessly draped across my shoulders, and like that we walked across the wide expanse of brick-paved driveway towards the front door. It looked very empty with just my Beetle and Owen’s four-by-four parked side by side in one corner.

  ‘It’s beginning to look like the supermarket car park after closing time,’ he commented, as if he had read my mind.

  ‘Room for a caravan and a horse-box,’ I looked around and gave a businesslike nod, ‘a good selling point the estate agent said.’

  Owen’s arm slid from my shoulders and we made our way inside.

  We knew there was a lot to discuss, but it soon became apparent that it was a discussion that was going to have to wait. The phone began to ring before I even had time to put the kettle on, as one after the other our other children phoned. In the end we decided to go out.

  Without even bothering to get changed, we switched off our mobile phones, snatched up a jacket each, and ignored the house phone that rang again even as we closed the front door behind us. Grinning at each other ruefully, we climbed into the four-by-four, and I made a belated and futile effort to improve my appearance by dragging my fingers through the unruly tangle of my shoulder length fair hair as we sped off down the road.

  ‘It’s understandable that they’re anxious, I suppose,’ Owen said, once we were seated in our favourite Italian restaurant.

  ‘Yes, but we’ve always been open and honest with them, so they understood from quite an early age that ours was just a convenient arrangement,’ I pointed out, ‘made for their benefit as well as ours. They’re no longer children, but adults now getting on with their lives. It’s high time we got on with ours.’

  ‘Fifteen years, though,’ he marvelled, ‘it’s a long time.’

  ‘I know,’ I said, tucking into my favourite chicken and mushroom risotto with relish, ‘who would have thought it?’

  Owen predictably had the same meal as me. He always did wherever and whenever we ate out, and whatever was on the menu. I used to find it amusing and irritating in turn but, after all this time, I had stopped teasing him about it. I did still sometimes wonder, though, what he would do if I ordered something he really didn’t like at all.

  Scooping up a good forkful of the risotto, he paused with it halfway to his mouth. ‘They’ve been good years, though, haven’t they, Evie? On the whole.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ I agreed immediately and, laughing, I added, ‘and they said it wouldn’t last.’

  ‘Sandy and James?’ Owen grinned. ‘You’re right, they did. They were absolutely horrified when we told them what we planned to do, said it wouldn’t work in a million years, and blamed themselves because they were the ones who tried to pair us up.’

  I grinned. ‘You can just picture it, can’t you? The perfect match, they must have thought. Get Evie round for a meal, she’s divorced with kids.’

  ‘And invite Owen. He’s still on his own with his two, and he’s been widowed for a while now.’

  ‘I did like you straight away,’ I told him, smiling, knowing I had told him the same thing many times before. ‘I thought you were a really nice guy.’

  ‘And I thought you were lovely.’

  ‘But no spark,’ we said in unison.

  ‘Such a shame, especially as by the time we realised we weren’t going anywhere as a couple, we’d been seeing each other quite a while and the children were all getting on so well,’ I remembered. ‘Luckily, we recognised the undoubted benefits of coming to an agreement that would help us both through what could have been some really difficult years.’

  ‘It probably wouldn’t work for everyone, but selling our respective houses and moving in together was absolutely the right thing to do, wasn’t it?’ Owen asked, but he already knew the answer.

  ‘Oh, absolutely,’ I replied, without hesitation. ‘We couldn’t have gone on for much longer, taking it in turns to drop the children off at yours or mine all the time. All of us being under the same roof made perfect sense, especially when they were so young.’

  ‘Even in the bigger house it was a bit camped to start with, though.’

  ‘Like a hostel of some sort, at times, with bunk beds everywhere, but it was worth it in the end because the home we ended up with was the perfect family home - thanks to all your hard work.’

  I never hesitated to give Owen the credit but, as ever, he insisted he couldn’t have done it without me.

  ‘Your homemaking skills were second to none.’ he reminded me. ‘Even when we ended up living in what wasn’t much more than a builder’s yard all those months, it was as warm and welcoming as you could make it.’

  I ordered Tiramisu as my empty plate was removed and unsurprisingly, Owen followed suit. For a second I was tempted to change my choice at the last moment, but decided affectionately that it would only confuse him.

  ‘Between us we provided our children with a stable environment,’ I nodded, feeling a real sense of satisfaction, ‘and we obviously did something right because no one could deny that they are a real credit to us.’

  We tucked into the creamy dessert and thought about the family we had raised between us. The two eldest already qualified respectively as a social worker and a physiotherapist, two more currently stud
ying to become nurses, and the youngest now enrolled on a midwifery course. Neither of us had any idea where the shared interest in health and social courses had come from, but they all seemed happy with the choice they had made, so who were we to question it.

  ‘Alice said that even the seasoned social workers have never heard of a family like ours,’ Owen said, ‘but I don’t suppose we’re unique, do you?’

  I gave it some thought. ‘Not unique, just a bit unusual,’ and then I stared hard at the door. ‘Talking of Alice,’ I said, hearing the surprise in my voice, ‘I could swear that’s her walking in right now.’

  Owen twisted round in his chair, and added, ‘and isn’t that Jake with her?’

  My elder daughter flew across the restaurant and I found myself enveloped in a cloud of perfume and tousled blonde hair.

  ‘We knew we’d find you here, didn’t we, Jake?’ she was laughing as she turned to Owen’s son with a satisfied smirk. ‘I’ll bet you thought you’d given us the slip, didn’t you?’

  ‘We weren’t expecting you, were we?’ I lifted my face to receive Jake’s kiss.

  ‘Alice was convinced you’d be feeling strange with Mai off to uni,’ he explained, a smile lighting his handsome face. ‘I did try to tell her you’d have become used to the family whittling away over the years, but she wouldn’t have it.’

  ‘Sit down’ I urged. ‘Have you eaten? Well, join us for coffee then. Oh, it is lovely to see you both.’

  Over the cappuccinos and skinny lattes, Jake said, ‘End of an era, then? It felt really odd, seeing the For Sale board outside of the house just now.’

  ‘Are you sure you really want to give it up?’ Alice sounded upset, I thought, despite the fact she hadn’t lived at home for a number of years now.

  ‘It’s far too big, even for the two of us,’ I pointed out.

  ‘You could divide it into two flats.’

  ‘That wasn’t the plan,’ I said gently.

  ‘Plans are made to be changed, to be re-arranged.’ There was a touch of desperation in her tone. ‘You get on so well, I really can’t see why you insist on going your separate ways at your time of life.’

  ‘Shush, Alice,’ Jake pleaded, raking a hand through his dark hair and looking uncomfortable. ‘It’s none of our business.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ she argued fiercely, ‘they’re our parents. The only ones we remember, the only ones we’ve got. They should stay together.’

  ‘People get divorced all the time,’ Owen reminded her, ‘and your mother and I aren’t even married. We came together for all our sakes, for convenience, we aren’t even in a relationship. You’ve always known we wouldn’t be together forever, so this can hardly have come as a surprise to you.’

  ‘But you’re so good together,’ she wailed, and burst into noisy sobs.

  I handed her a tissue from my handbag and tried not to notice the heads turning our way. ‘Yes, we are good together because we are great friends – but friends is all we are and all we ever will be. It’s time now for us to pick up the pieces of our lives and start living as the single people we actually are.’

  ‘You’ll get a good price for the house,’ Jake said helpfully, ‘more than enough to buy a decent one each.’

  ‘Don’t,’ begged Alice, sounding more like a child than a twenty-two year old professional adult.

  ‘You have your own home in London,’ he told her, ‘and so do I.’

  ‘That,’ she said, ‘is quite different,’ but she dried her eyes and eventually – but somewhat reluctantly - joined in the chat about the various options open to Owen and I.

  Neither of us wanted to move out of Brankstone. Owen had lived there all of his forty-seven years and had built up his property maintenance business from its extremely humble beginnings in a small shed at the end of his parents’ garden. He was well known locally and well respected. At his age he didn’t want or need to start over elsewhere.

  I had come to the area as a young bride, full of the usual hopes and dreams of the newly married, only to have them dashed when – after the birth of three children – my husband had decided that family life wasn’t for him, after all. He abandoned us so swiftly and easily that I was left in total shock and disbelief and, as far as I knew, he never once looked back. He did put the house in my name and continued to pay the mortgage, for which I was grateful, but that was the sum total of his commitment to the children and me. I had never set eyes on him from that day to this, had no idea where he was, and cared even less.

  Thank goodness I had made friends, good friends, and thank goodness Owen had come into my life. Out of necessity we had come together and made a life for our children. Brankstone had been my home for a long time and I couldn’t envisage living anywhere else.

  ‘A little bungalow would probably suit me and I have looked at one or two on-line. Three bedrooms would suit, one for me, a spare for when any of you come to stay and one for an office.’ I’d actually seen one that I thought would be perfect, but I didn’t think Alice was ready to hear about that just yet.

  ‘Finally going to write that book with no one around to distract you?’ Despite that Jake wasn’t even mine, he always had been the one to understand me best and we smiled at each other.

  ‘I have an eye on an end of terrace,’ Owen put in. ‘Just a two up, two down but it’s on quite a big corner plot. I know I have the yard now and office premises, but I might want to wind down the business as I head towards retirement and become a one man band again, so it’s as well to be prepared.’

  ‘It sounds as if you have it all planned,’ Alice said, quite bitterly, I thought, and I felt a bit annoyed that she couldn’t make an effort to see it from our point of view.

  ‘Yes, well there’s not a lot of time to waste “at our time of life”,’ I said, quoting her own earlier comment back at her.

  ‘Well, when you’re ready, we’ll come and help you pack up, won’t we, Alice?’ Jake said cheerfully.

  ‘Will we?’ She gave him a straight look.

  ‘You might want to all start going through things you left behind when you moved out,’ I said, with a heavy emphasis on the last two words. ‘I’m afraid that with both of us moving to smaller homes, it will be a case of “everything must go,” as they say in the sales the shops are always having these days.’

  ‘Yes,’ Owen put in, ‘there are a lot of books belonging to both of you, your collection of dolls, Alice, and Jake’s Subbuteo.’

  ‘Actually,’ Jake laughed, ‘the football stuff belongs to Connor, the wrestling DVDs are mine I think you’ll find.’

  Alice glared at all three of us and I wanted to tell her it was difficult for us, too, but we were making the best of things and accepting that life just had to move on. Owen and I had tried to do our very best by our children over the years and I didn’t think it was asking too much for them to now return the favour and make it easier for all of us.

  Chapter Two

  There was no sign of my daughter, Alice, on the day we moved out of the family home. I wasn’t expecting her to show up and I no longer blamed her for the way she had reacted to the thought of Owen and I selling the family home and going our separate ways. I had been quite prepared for the upheaval of moving, but even I hadn’t expected the actual leaving to be such a wrench and found that I was absolutely dreading slamming the familiar front door behind me for the very last time.

  I stood looking around the big empty sitting room, and recalled nursing five young children with measles on make-shift beds in there because it was the only room with a fireplace and the heating hadn’t yet been put in. Moving on to stand in the kitchen I could still see them around the scrubbed old table in the early days, tucking into stew and dumplings with gusto, and clearly remembered being thrilled to hear them laughing together.

  ‘Not having second thoughts, are you?’ I turned to find Owen standing in the doorway, smiling at me in the gentle way he had.

  ‘It’s a bit late for that,’ I smiled and shook my
head. ‘Not me,’ I said, adding, ‘we always knew that us all being together was a temporary arrangement and not forever.’

  ‘No regrets?’ he came across the room and stood looking down at me.

  ‘Oh, no,’ I shook my head again, more emphatically. ‘Putting our own lives on hold was a small price to pay to give our children stability. A stability we probably both needed every bit as much as they did at that time.’

  ‘Oh, God, yes,’ Owen said with feeling. ‘With no family around to help out when Susan died, it was a complete nightmare those first few months. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t come along when you did.’

  ‘Ditto,’ I said with feeling.

  ‘Here, give me one last hug,’ he held out his arms and I went into them gladly, enjoying the security being held like that always gave me.

  ‘I hope it’s not the last one,’ I said laughing and tried not to feel daunted by the thought of living alone after so many years as part of a family.

  ‘It’s not even goodbye,’ Owen said, his light tone matching my own. ‘We’re hardly moving to opposite ends of the country.’

  ‘No,’ I agreed, fighting the urge to keep my arms around him even after he had let me go, ‘practically round the corner from each other, really.’

  ‘This is it, then,’ he said, when we found ourselves standing outside of a front door that, as of that moment, no longer belonged to us.

  The house had sold quickly. So quickly, in fact, that it had given us no time for second thoughts – even if we might have had any. I hoped the new family would be happy – they had seemed nice when they came to view.

  ‘This is it.’

  We walked side by side to our cars, exchanged a final quick hug, and in no time we were driving off in opposite directions. Concentrating on the unfamiliar route, it took me a minute of two to realise that my face was wet with tears. I hadn’t gone much further before I had to pull over because I was crying so hard.

  I’d heard all about the empty nest syndrome that caused some women so much grief and was determined it wasn’t going to happen to me. I’d loved raising my extended family, but the children were well-balanced adults now, and making their own way in the world. I couldn’t think what on earth was wrong with me. I should have been excited, happy, at the thought of a future that finally belonged just to me.