The Widows’ Club. Amanda Brooke
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aggrieved that her ex-husband had kept the family home despite her agreeing to a generous divorce settlement and plundering funds that would one day cost Faith her widow’s pension. One or two neighbours had remained loyal to the first Mrs Cavendish, and Faith guessed she had Mr Newton next door to thank for Ella’s arrival. A wronged wife of twenty-odd years was always going to out-trump the usurper widowed after only six.
Faith placed her hands on Ella’s shoulders and air-kissed her on both cheeks. With a reassuring smile, she said, ‘I told him I was leaving the country just to get rid of him.’
Ella’s shoulders remained tense. ‘And who was he?’
‘An antique dealer. I thought it was time to declutter.’
‘You’ve been getting rid of stuff?’
‘I’ve emptied some of the bedrooms, that’s all.’
Ella’s eyes grew wide as her gaze travelled up the sweeping staircase. One of the emptied rooms had been Ella’s bedroom although she hadn’t stayed a single night in the house since the divorce. Derek had let her take everything that was hers and it had remained a rarely used guest room ever since.
‘Sorry, should I have warned you?’
‘I know it’s your furniture and you have a right to do what you want with it,’ Ella replied, ‘but …’
‘You don’t have to tell your mum,’ Faith replied, feeling a swell of sympathy for her stepdaughter, caught in the middle of a battle that was already won as far as Faith was concerned.
‘Can I take a look?’ Ella asked, hanging her coat on the polished oak newel post.
She took the stairs without waiting for a reply and disappeared into the largest of the three emptied rooms. Her old bedroom was bare apart from the bin bags the antique dealer had offered to take away.
‘I can’t decide what to do with those,’ Faith explained when she caught up with Ella. ‘If there’s anything you want, please take it.’
Unable to watch Ella tear open the bags, Faith pulled back a curtain and looked out across the gardens. The detached house was in a prime location in Woolton Village and although it was only six miles from Liverpool city centre, she could see more treetops than rooftops. Glimpsing the dense woodland that marked the boundary of Woolton Golf Course, she felt a pang of sadness as she recalled the raucous dinner parties she had hosted for Derek and his golfing buddies. Her heart suffered another blow when she turned to find Ella scavenging through the remnants of the life that had been wrenched from her.
‘It’s all his rubbish,’ Ella said, straightening up. ‘I don’t want any of it.’
‘Don’t be like that,’ Faith replied, clenching her jaw. ‘He cared a lot about you.’
‘Dad cared only for himself. You’re lucky he didn’t live long enough for you to work that out.’
This was Rosemary talking, not Ella, and any argument would be useless. There were times when Faith wished she could wash her hands of the whole family, but since Derek’s death, she and Ella had formed a friendship of sorts and for as long as Faith remained in this house, she was the curator of Derek’s legacy and his daughter was a part of that.
Faith tipped back her head and blinked hard before returning her gaze to Ella. ‘I loved your father,’ she whispered. ‘Can you at least respect my feelings?’
Ella looked down at the sleeve of a dark suit reaching out from the open neck of a bin bag. She prodded it with her shoe. ‘I’m sorry, but I hate to see you pining away for Dad. You deserve better,’ she said, her voice softening. ‘You know, moving to Spain might not be such a bad idea. Isn’t it time for a fresh start?’
Faith considered her response, knowing it would be reported back word for word. Amongst Rosemary’s many grievances was the terms of Derek’s will, which had seen the lion’s share of his estate left to Faith. What had they expected when Ella had effectively divorced her father in sympathy with her mother? The answer was obvious. They were waiting for a nice little handout should Faith sell up and move away. This was why Ella had been sent over. This was always why.
‘If I do move, you’ll be the first to know.’
‘So you are thinking about it? Is that why you’re emptying the rooms?’
Faith winced before she could disguise her feelings. She had expensive taste and in the last four years, money had been slipping through her fingers at an alarming rate. She had tried to cut back, going as far as taking a two-week cruise this year instead of the usual four, but it wasn’t enough, and the proceeds from the sale of furniture was no more than a stopgap. Not that she’d ever admit as much to Ella or anyone else for that matter.
‘Come on, let’s go downstairs. I’ve missed lunch and I’m ravenous,’ Faith said. ‘I saw my friend Tara the other day and she sent me home with the most delicious cake.’
‘I care about you, Faith,’ Ella said, not easily distracted. ‘You’re still young. You need to move on.’
‘Thank you for your concern,’ Faith replied, ‘but your efforts would be better spent helping Rosemary to move on. I’m happy where I am and as far as I’m concerned, the only way I’ll be leaving here is in a box.’
As Faith approached the village hall, she caught a glimpse through the window of Steve and a couple of the others rearranging the chairs for their meeting. The foyer meanwhile was devoid of life, although someone had been busy setting out mugs on the trestle table and there was a tower of pre-packaged muffins sitting next to them. Following the sound of a running tap, she found Justine in the kitchen: undoubtedly the culprit responsible for the supermarket fare.
‘Evening.’
‘Oh, hi, Faith,’ Justine said, her ponytail flicking like a horse’s tail as she turned. ‘Tara’s running late, I’m afraid, so I offered to come in early. Thankfully, my mum’s a godsend when it comes to childminding.’
‘A relief, I’m sure, but I can’t imagine it’s something you want to be doing every time,’ Faith replied.
Justine finished filling the kettle and set it to boil. ‘It’s no biggie. We all know Tara has her hands full at the moment,’ she said as she rinsed out the flasks. She had yet to take a pause and the point Faith was attempting to make sailed over her head.
Faith was about to try again when a deep voice close to her ear gave her a start.
‘Can I help with anything?’
She turned to find a stranger in their midst with dark brown hair and a sprinkling of grey at his temples. Dimples puckered his cheeks when he smiled, but it was his pale blue eyes that demanded Faith’s attention.
‘You came back then?’ said Justine. She went to shake his hand, but water dripped from her fingers and she grabbed the first thing she could find to dry them on. It was the tote bag with its cheesy quote that Faith hated. ‘Faith, this is Nick, one of our new members. Why don’t you get to know each other and leave me to it?’
‘Are you sure you can manage on your own?’ Faith asked.
Justine almost dropped a flask. ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Honestly, go.’
Nick stepped back to allow Faith through the door and placed his hand close to but not touching the small of her back as they returned to the foyer. ‘Have you been involved with the group long?’ he asked.
‘About three years.’
They paused at a coat stand and Faith watched him slip out of his heavy woollen coat to reveal a dark grey suit that looked hand-stitched. ‘And how was your initiation into our little enclave?’ she asked.
‘Just what I needed,’ Nick confessed. ‘For the first time, I feel like I can grieve properly.’ He paused, momentarily distracted as he looked over Faith’s shoulder. ‘Ah, great. April’s made it back