Robert Goddard - Borrowed Time

C H A P T E R

T he powers that be couldnt in the end be persuaded to release me early. In fact, somewhat to my surprise, they didnt want me to go at all. Phrases like sadly missed and hard to replace were bandied about. It was rather like reading your obituary without actually being dead. Gratifying in one sense, but also frustrating. Not least because it meant I had to see out my notice to the bitter-sweet end: 31 October 1990. For me it turned out to be an anti-climactic date, since my farewell bash got tacked unsatisfactorily onto an office Halloween party. I left uncertain whether my colleagues gift to mea Timariot & Small grade A cricket bat signed by them in the style of an England touring teamconstituted trick or treat.

Either way, a chapter of my life had belatedly closed. I flew home to England and took up my post as works director of Timariot & Small the following Monday. Reminding my mother at regular intervals that it was only a temporary arrangement until I had time to find suitable accommodation of my own, I moved into Greenhayes. I meant what I said, even though the U.K. property market had risen way beyond my reach during the twelve years Id been complacently renting bachelor apartments in Brussels. But, for the moment, there was so much to be mastered and assimilated at work that I was grateful to have Mother cooking and washing for me. Even at the expense of her remorseless chatter and Simons satirical remarks. I promised myself Id sort something out in the New Year.

By then, for all I knew, Shaun Naylors trial would be upon us. While I was still in Brussels, Id received a conditional witness order from the Crown Court stipulating that I might be required to appear at the trial, a date for which hadnt yet been fixed. The Kington killings had dropped out of the papers altogether, vanishing into the limbo of judicial delay. The thousands whod read and speculated about them at the time had probably forgotten them altogether. But for those who couldnt forgetfor the Paxton familyit must have been like waiting for Louises funeral over again, on and on, as the months passed. A cathartic moment indefinitely postponed. As far as they or any of us knew, Naylor was still planning to plead not guilty. Eventually, he was bound to be given his moment in court.

I tried to contact Sarah on several occasions during my first few weeks back in England, but without success. If I was busy getting to know the workforce at Timariot & Small and imposing my authority as firmly but gently as I could, no doubt she was equally busy absorbing contract, tort and criminal law while trying not to brood on the experience shed soon have of the real thing. I only ever seemed to get Bella on the telephone, which I couldnt risk doing too often without her putting two and two together and making five. And Sarah simply didnt return my calls. I began to suspect she might want to discourage my attention. I began to think how understandable it would be if she did. Thered be boyfriends on the scene. Half a dozen men closer to her own age and interests than me. Who exactly was I kidding? And why? The attraction Id felt in Brussels wasnt really to her, was it?

My mother was certainly curious about the arrangement. Why had Bella taken a lodger? And why that lodger? But her attempts to engineer a meeting came to nothing. Even her curiosity faltered with so little to sustain it. And our contacts with Bella had become fewer as Hughs death receded into the past. Events and emotions drifted. As theyre bound to, I suppose. As theyd have gone on doingbut for the trial.

I got home earlier than usual one evening in the first week of December to find Brillo and my mother sharing the fireside at Greenhayes with Bella. Tea and cake were being consumed, the family photograph albumsall four of themkeenly examined. And Bella was giving a good impression of the indulgent daughter-in-law happy to take a stroll down memory lane. Which might have fooled Mother. But not me. Not for an instant. Bella wanted something. The question was: what?

I wasnt to be kept waiting long for the answer. As soon as Mother left the room to make fresh tea, Bella said to me: Weve seen nothing of you since you came back, Robin. Its really not good enough.

We?

Sarah and me.

I have phoned. Several times.

Well, it is difficult, I admit. They keep Sarah so busy at that college. And she goes home every weekend. My lifes been pretty hectic as well, of course.

Ive had one or two things to do myself.

Do you know you sound just like Hugh when you adopt that sulky tone?

Really? Well, I

Anyway, never mind. Sarah isnt going home this weekend. In fact, Keiths coming to see her with Rowena and

Keith? You mean her father?

Yes. Ive met himshe tossed her hair enigmaticallyoh, quite a few times now. Hes really a very nice man. Genuine, you know? He hasnt grown hard and resentful, as so many men do. Usually after exposure to women like Bella, I couldnt help thinking. Still, she was always infectiously optimistic. Funeven when she was at her most infuriating. If Sir Keith Paxton had found her company a pleasant relief from his troubles, I couldnt entirely blame him. Nevertheless, I didnt like the sound of it. Bella might be exaggerating for effect with her casual dropping of his name minus the title. But, all the same, I felt resentment stir in me. Hes suffered a great deal, of course. And hes far from over the worst. Rowenas a terrible worry to him. And to Sarah.

Why?

Hasnt Sarah told you? She smiled. No, I suppose not. In that case, perhaps I oughtnt to... She waited for me to rise to the bait, but I merely smiled back. Still, I suppose I ought to prepare you in some way.

Prepare me for what, Bella?

I was hopingwe were hopingyoud come to lunch next Sunday. Meet Keith. And Rowena. Hell be bringing her along. You see Oh, heres Hilda with your tea. And that, a flashing glance told me, was all she could say for the moment. Like the actress I sometimes thought she ought to have been, shed timed her curtain line to perfection.

The next act was delivered to me in the lounge bar of the Cricketers, Steeps village inn, where Bella proposed a drink to see her on her way, knowing my mother wouldnt dream of accompanying us. Mother regarded pubs as places ladies should avoid, except for the occasional lunchtime snack, and then only under heavy escort. Bella, needless to say, didnt see them that way at all. But then Bella, as Mother sometimes pointed out, was no lady.

I have to be careful what I say about Sarahs family, Robin. Im sure you appreciate that.

Of course. I also appreciated that nothing pleased Bella more than teasing other people with tit-bits of information she possessed but they didnt.

Ive only met Rowena once, but it was obvious to me she wasnt recovering from the loss of her mother as well as Sarah. She was supposed to be starting university this autumn, you know. But thats had to be postponed. She isnt really capable of taking on any kind of commitmentwork or studyat the moment. The whole thing has quite shattered her. Sarah had spoken in Brussels of picking up the pieces. I wondered now if shed been referring to her sister rather than herself all along. Shes seeing a psychiatrist, though what help he is...

Sarah mentioned trauma counselling.

Its become rather more serious than counselling. Rowena doesnt have Sarahs strength of mind, her... resilience. Shes really quite fragile. Doesnt look her age at all. More like fourteen than nineteen. On a personality like hers, well, you can imagine the effect this must have had. She had to identify her mothers body, you know. And she was the last to see Louise before... Why did Bellas use of Louise Paxtons Christian name anger me? Why should I still care so much? Except she wasnt the last to see her, was she, Robin? Not quite.