Omnia Vincit Amor Pt. 02

"Wrong," he laughed. "The number of lakes is easy to count. One!"

"Don't be silly, We've just passed two big ones, Coniston and Windermere."

"No, just one: Bassenthwaite Lake. All the others are Meres or Waters. Windermere, Coniston Water, Thirlmere, Grasmere, Derwent Water and so on."

"John, that's just pedantry!"

"Of course it is, but great to wrong-foot tourists! Anyway, pedantry is what I'm good at!"

"So you are!" she snorted in annoyance, but she was laughing. Then she became serious. "It was one of the things I loved you for."

John was surprised and nonplussed, and after the silence became uncomfortable, she switched on the radio.

That evening, they sat by the fireplace in the drawing room. The evening was cool, but not really cool enough for a fire.

"I fancy a log fire," said Claire, and so a log fire is what they had, and it made the large room feel more comfortable, as they sampled some of Mary Freeman's whiskies.

Next morning Claire was off to Lancaster, and John took himself off for a walk through the wooded garden, and then onward into Grange. He had returned and was reading his novel when Claire returned mid-afternoon.

"Shall we take the ferry across Windermere and visit Hawkshead?" Claire asked. "There's a very nice simple restaurant there for an evening meal."

They enjoyed a walk through Hawkshead's narrow streets mercifully free of cars and found the restaurant which fortunately was open.

"Last year we'd be closed on Monday," said the owner. "Summer season begins with the Spring Bank holiday, but we've had some early party bookings so we've opened a couple of weeks early."

They returned on the narrow road through Greythwaite, and down the west side of Windermere.

Claire spent time on the mountain of post next morning, and found it necessary to call into Lancaster on the way back to John's house. John wandered round the city until she texted him to say she was ready.

The following week she needed to see Simon again, and invited John to accompany her so he could meet her sister Ellen and her brother-in-law.

"Well," said Ellen with a grin as she shook John's hand, "you've changed out of all recognition since you last visited the family!"

"Likewise, I'm sure," quipped John. "You've got to be taller, and more... womanly!"

Ellen laughed uproariously. "So true! I was sixteen, I think." she said when she got her breath back. This man was much more Claire's type, she thought, and wondered why Claire had let him go. When John visited the bathroom, she buttonholed Claire.

"He's gorgeous!" she said in a whisper, why the hell did you break up with him? More to the point, after him, why take up with Peter?"

"Ellen, it's thirty years ago. I can remember feeling frightened, 'cos the feelings were too much for me, We were so intense! I couldn't cope, I'd never felt like that with a boy: it terrified me!

"And of course, mother and father put pressure on me. He wasn't right for me, and when they met Peter, of course he was just right. Mum did apologise before she died, said she thought she'd ruined my life."

"Had she?"

They were interrupted by John's return, so the question was not answered. Then the children arrived, were introduced, and disappeared. Simon arrived and after cordial introductions all was business.

Finally, Simon sat back. "Well, dear sis-in-law, that's got everything sorted. Between us and Mum's own insurance policies, we've scraped together enough to pay the inheritance tax on everything but the house itself. That'll be enough to satisfy the tax people as a deposit. I guarantee you'll have no trouble getting the Grant of Probate, though they may want an interview. If so, let me come along with you. You remember Mum giving each of us the money to take out single premium insurance policies against Mum's death when Dad died? They should pay out soon, and that will cover the rest of the inheritance tax on the house."

"So it's back to Lancaster to put in the application and then again if I need an interview," said Claire with resignation.

"I think you'll find that Lancaster is a sub-office for Liverpool," said John. "Liverpool is a lot nearer."

"That's right John," said Simon with some surprise. "How did you know that?"

"Simon," Claire scolded him, "John's wife!"

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry John," said a contrite Simon. "Of course, you'll have had to jump through their hoops already, won't you?"

"Not much trouble for me," said John. "Everything came to me automatically tax free as her husband."

Two days later, the pair took a train to Liverpool and braved the rain to attend the Probate Office. Claire was impressed by the helpfulness of the staff and everything was completed to her and their satisfaction; she would not need to return for an interview. All the probate documentation would come to John's address.

Thus occupied she had waited out the four weeks, using the last week finally to wrap up the legal proceedings on her mother's estate and to begin to access her mother's numerous and varied accounts so she could pay out the bequests. The two of them had lived peacefully and platonically side by side, sharing household duties and working together. Conversation flowed easily, and this continued the healing process for both of them. There were tears and there were hugs, but that was all.

On Monday of the fifth week, the twentieth of June, she booked a flight back home and sent an email saying when the flight would arrive on the following Wednesday evening.

On Tuesday she and John drove in two cars back to Grange to put her mother's car away, returning in the evening to go for the last time what had become her favourite restaurant.

It was the longest day, with perfect sunshine and very warm, so they detoured to take a longer walk home in the light sunlit evening. Once back at home, they exchanged all the information they could possibly need.

"Probably not a good idea to phone the house," she said. "If you need to get in touch, phone my sister, and she'll pass the message on so I can phone you."

She handed him a sheet of A4 paper. "See, I've written Ellen's details," and she laughed, in which he joined when he saw what was written in large letters. "So you can't miss it," she continued.

The paper announced: IN EMERGENCY PHONE MY SISTER ELLEN, and gave the number and her sister's mobile number as well.

John joined in the fun and pinned it carefully onto the notice board in the kitchen.

The following warm sunny afternoon, John dropped her at the airport. They hugged, kissed and thanked each other which made them laugh, then kissed again, which caused more laughter still. They both realised that amid the tears and sorrow, there had been healing and a great deal of laughter over the four weeks. She waved and, passing through to security, was lost to view.

Chapter 07

Claire caught the evening flight back to her husband and family with no problems, until, that is, she came though arrivals and looked for whoever was meeting her.

She suspected in her bones that there would be trouble of some sort when she arrived. Peter had not phoned her at all, though the children had, telling her that they could not understand why she was staying away. She explained the complexities of administering an estate, but apart from that told them nothing, saying all would be explained when she returned, if their father had not explained it to them already.

There was no one there to meet her, though she had told Peter on the answer phone and by text which flight she would be on. So in the pouring rain she got a taxi home. It was quite late when she arrived at the house.

As the car approached the house, she saw that Thomas's and Mary's cars were there, as was Elizabeth's.

"Oh," she thought, "a family gathering. So they knew I was coming and yet no one could be bothered to meet me." She was already becoming annoyed at the insult.

After getting wet through walking from the taxi to the house, she let herself in and closed the door behind her. Immediately Thomas, her eldest, emerged from the Dining Room.

"We're all in here mother," he snapped imperiously with a grimace of disgust. "We want answers."

"Don't be impertinent Thomas. You'll get what I give you, if I decide to give you anything. As it is I need to change, since no one was caring enough to meet me at the airport."

She took her bags upstairs to the bedroom, only to find the door was locked. So she took her bags to the guest bedroom, where she found all her things. She shrugged. Now she was angry.

"If that's how he wants to play it, fine," she thought, shutting and locking the door. She unpacked, took off her wet clothes, and lay down in her underwear.

Five minutes passed. Then she heard the doorknob turned and then there came a banging on the door. She ignored it.

"Open this door!" It was Peter shouting.

"Go away Peter," she shouted back.

"I demand you come down and face the family you have disgraced."

"Demand away," she replied quietly, for by now her anger was ice-cold. "You are a few words and a few minutes away from the end of your marriage, you stupid man. If you don't change your tune I'll be calling a cab to take me back to the airport right now."

There was a silence. Then steps going down stairs.

Then came a gentle knock on the door.

"Mum?" This time it was Elizabeth.

"Yes, darling."

"Please come down."

She put on a dressing gown and opened the door.

"I refuse to come down to a trial by my own children, Lizzy," she said quietly. "It's a gross insult. No one met me at the airport. Another gross insult. Your Father has locked me out of our bedroom. A third gross insult. Thomas greets me with distain. A fourth. Your father bangs on the door of the room he has deigned to give me demanding I come down. A fifth.

"I have been repeatedly insulted since I arrived. Tell the family that unless things change I'm going back to England tonight and I won't be coming back. No one treats me like this."

"OK, Mum. Sorry."

Claire could see Elizabeth was upset, as her daughter turned away and went downstairs. Claire went back into the bedroom, re-locked the door and dressed in a loose top and jeans.

There was a long pause, during which she could hear raised voices from downstairs.

Then a tentative knock and Philip's voice. "Mum?"

"Yes, darling."

"We've talked about it and Liz and I said we'd go with you back to England if you weren't treated like you should be treated. So Dad says to apologise to you."

"Is my bedroom door unlocked?"

"No."

"I mean my bedroom, not this one."

"No."

"Tell your Father that I want an undertaking that all my things are put back in their proper place, in our bedroom, and that these petty games of his will cease immediately. Then and only then will I consider talking to him."

"OK."

Another pause. Then another timid knock.

"Dad says OK."

"I'll be down in five minutes. I expect a cup of tea ready for me."

"OK."

She thought for a moment. She had regained a certain equilibrium at John's house and in his peaceful company. Now Peter had destroyed it in minutes. It seemed he had learned nothing. Nothing had changed; indeed things were much worse.

She went downstairs and into the dining room. It seemed the family had left that room in favour of the living room. She wondered if that was a gesture of apology. She opened the intervening door and found them all sitting waiting. Thomas and his wife, Thomas with a sour look which was echoed by Mary who had brought her husband. The other three children were sitting on the floor, giving her a seat between them on an armchair. She sat down. Elizabeth brought her a mug of tea.

"Thank you Lizzie."

Silence. She sipped at the hot drink.

"Mum," said Mary, breaking the silence. "How could you?"

"How could I what, Mary?" Claire was now in aggressive mode and she scowled at her daughter.

"Commit adultery!" said Thomas, pompously, almost shouting at her.

"How could I indeed!" said Claire, with a wry smile, and sat back in the chair, taking another drink from the mug.

"You don't deny it?" he continued ponderously.

She noticed Peter glowering at her from 'his' chair on the other side of the room.

"I don't answer to you Thomas," she said grimly. "Less of your insolence, boy!"

"But you should answer to me!" Peter had spoken.

At last, she thought. "Any discussion about our marriage should be between us, Peter, not the whole family," Claire snapped from her relaxed position in the chair. She finished the tea.

"It concerns the whole family if you are unfaithful." Peter stated.

"Yes, it would concern them if I were, but we talk first. Then together we would tell the family what we had decided. I'll not have my children sitting in judgement over me. Come to that, I won't have you doing it either. You don't deserve any consideration after the way you've treated me this evening."

"Adulterers don't deserve any either." Thomas's snide comment was almost crowing. "You spend four weeks with a man in his house and expect us to believe you've not slept with him?"

"Since you and your father are so religious but have pre-judged me even so, I'll quote from Matthew, 'Judge not or you will be judged, for the amount you mete out in judgement will be the amount you receive.' You're in for a hell of a time when you stand before God's judgement seat, the pair of you.

"And personally I don't care two hoots whether you believe it, Thomas, or you don't. It seems you were well named! You doubt my virtue without any evidence. Someone as narrow minded as you would believe the worst in any case.

"But as you've said it, yes, I expect you to believe that your mother was faithful to your father. You know why? Because I'm your mother, because I've always been there for you, stood up for you - you know when, Thomas. You have no stone to throw."

Thomas coloured up, looked ashamed, and said nothing more. He had been caught half-dressed with a half-naked girl in the toilets at school and was almost expelled. Claire had saved him.

"But Daddy told us you slept in his room and in his bed!" stated Mary.

"I wonder how Daddy knew that? I didn't tell him, and I'm sure John didn't. Daddy made that up. That said, he's absolutely right, I did."

"There!" triumphed Mary. "You convicted yourself!"

Claire sighed with exaggerated resignation. "You really are a stupid girl sometimes Mary! I note that not for the first time, Daddy did not tell you the whole truth. Not that he knew it. John gave me his room because it had an en suite bathroom, which meant I would not have to walk about the house in underwear or nightwear to go to the bathroom."

She paused for effect.

"He slept in a guest room. In the whole of the four weeks he never saw me less than fully dressed, and I never saw him either.

"For goodness' sake children, perhaps you can't understand this, but he lost the love of his life a few months ago, his dear wife, the woman he loved to distraction. She went out shopping one morning and dropped dead. Can you imagine the shock of that? He is bereaved.

"And so am I. We talked and talked about Grandma and about his Elizabeth. We talked, that's all. Oh, yes, we hugged when one of us was weeping. But no more than I would have done with any of you."

At this John spoke up. "But Mum, I don't understand why you had to go for so long."

"Didn't you ask your Dad?"

"Yes. He said you were in a paddy about him shouting at you for worrying him when you were late back from Aunt Ellen's. You were punishing him for that!"

"Oh he did, did he?" She turned to Peter with a grimace. "Not quite the whole truth again was it Peter? You're getting good at half-truths. Will you tell him the rest or shall I?"

Peter looked worried and then angry. "You going to bring that up? Trying to turn them against me? The man you went with before me? Your ex-boyfriend who you've always regretted not marrying? You expect me to believe you never slept with him the whole time?"

"Yes, I do. And you know exactly why I went to him and I think you know perfectly well that I did not sleep with him. You know exactly why I went, Peter, and you could have told them, but instead you told a half truth - in fact because it was not even about me getting back late, that was a lie. They are your children: the truth, Peter. "

"Mum," Mary pounced, "What's all that about? Was he your boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"And do you regret not marrying him?" she asked.

"I'm beginning to," said Claire with resignation. "Children, you have effectively put me on trial here. I resent that very deeply. But you want the whole thing?"

The three younger ones looked shamefaced, but they all nodded.

"You asked for this Peter," Claire glared at him. "All through our marriage, your father has been jealous. I couldn't talk to a man at a party but he'd come hot foot to interrupt. I couldn't return from shopping five minutes late without an inquisition as to where I'd been and who I'd been talking to. I got used to it. He wouldn't even let me get a job. I suspect it was because he could not supervise me there. He could have run his business from England, but chose to come here. Why? I could have got a job teaching in England. He didn't want that.

"I could and did put up with that oppressive jealousy, until he did something which I still can't believe. John Pollard had been my boyfriend, a good year before even I met your father. A few years ago he was diagnosed with cancer. Realising there was a good chance he might die, he wrote to all the friends he could remember - he used friendship sites and directory sites to find addresses. He wanted to ask forgiveness for any hurt he might have done. He was putting his life in order. He wrote a letter to me here."

At this Peter got up and left the room. Claire raised an eyebrow.

"Your Father opened the letter addressed to me and read it. Then he answered it, saying I resented John writing to me and that I did not want to hear from him ever again. He sent that hateful reply to a man who was asking forgiveness and thought there was a good chance he was dying. And, your Father did not tell me of the letter he sent, nor of the letter John sent.

"It was only when I visited John after I heard that his wife had died and he was in a bad way, that I learned of this act of jealousy and deceit. So, children, I've finally had enough of your Father's jealousy and his manipulation of my life.

"His invasion of my privacy and his deceit over it has brought this to a head. I told him I would stay with John for four weeks and he was to trust me. I made him a solemn promise that I would be completely faithful while there. He agreed - get that Thomas - he didn't like it, but he agreed!

"And then? He phoned John before I could, and asked him to find me a hotel to stay in. Again he did not tell me. He knew I intended to stay in John's house - that was the whole point - to help cure him of jealousy, and to punish him for what he'd done. He was also to seek professional help, which of course he has not done.

"I did my part. I stayed with John totally platonically. He was grateful and he helped me in my loss of your Grandmother. I was not even there for the whole time: I was often away to deal with the estate. I was actually with him in his house for about a fortnight in all."

"Oh, God!" muttered John. The rest sat in silence.

"Well, you asked for it," said Claire. "Now you know. I did not sleep with John, but your father assembled you all to put me on trial as if I did. In his jealousy he believes the worst of me, not the best. Everyone was to know about my so-called adultery. But now you hear my story, where is your father? He's run away, because he can't face you or the truth. Children he does not trust me. He never has."