In a trice, Etta remembered her own anguish when she had found the same geraniums, which she herself had specially propagated, growing in a pale blue tub on Blanche’s terrace, obviously given her by Sampson. It must have been a special bond between them and, twenty-five years later, here they were on his grave. He and Blanche must have really loved each other.
Now Etta loved Valent so helplessly, she could understand and forgive them and not feel jealous any more.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered as she placed the white roses in their vase of water on the grave beside the geraniums. ‘I’m so sorry for not loving you enough.’
Then, as if sleep-walking, she found herself driving to Bluebell Hill. Bluebells were appropriately staining sapphire the woodland floor behind the soft russet house, and the peonies and irises were in their pink and purple glory. On the lawn was a tank, a football and a push-along dog, which had belonged to Trixie. The swing still hung from the chestnut tree.
Ariella, who lived there now, was thrilled to see her, asked her in for a cup of tea and some rather stale Swiss roll, then showed her over the house, which was nice, messy and lived-in. A large ginger cat snoozed on an unmade bed.
One of the children was out playing with a friend, the other, now a chubby eighteen-month-old, who hadn’t been born when they bought the house, had just tipped a whole packet of Rice Krispies all over the floor. Ariella proceeded to shove them back into the packet.
‘Ruthie cleaned the floor this morning. She always speaks so fondly of you, Mrs Bancroft. There are so many things I wanted to ask you. Did all your streams dry up in the summer and do you take those lovely agapanthus into the greenhouse in winter?’
‘May I wander round the garden?’ asked Etta.
An outraged Priceless, nose rammed against an open inch of car window, glared as the ginger cat wandered after her, rolling lasciviously in the catmint. There were an awful lot of weeds; slugs had eaten most of the young delphiniums. Etta found a plastic JCB in one flower bed, a rocking pig in another and the see-saw that went round and round and up and down, which Sampson had made. At least someone had weeded round Bartlett’s grave.
Etta sat on a stone bench gazing into space. After a while Ariella came and sat with her:
‘So pleased you came. Heard you were heartbroken to leave here. I don’t blame you. It’s such a happy house, despite the awful things that happened to you.’
‘It needs children and laughter. There wasn’t much laughter in my husband’s last years.’
Seeing Etta was crying, Ariella took her hand.
‘So terrible to lose a husband and a lovely house.’
And the rest, thought Etta wearily.
But as they walked back to the house, Ariella said:
‘We had another visitor recently, Valent Edwards.’
‘He just knocked on the door, apologized, said he was driving through and loved the house. I showed him all over. He said we could name our price. I said we didn’t want to sell. Cally had just got into a lovely local school and we were so happy here. He gave me his card in case we changed our minds. I suddenly realized it was the Valent Edwards. He looked tired and older than his photographs, but he’s still very dynamic and attractive for an older man. He said he wanted to buy it for a very special lady. I expect it was one of those glamorous A-list celebs he runs around with.’
‘How long ago was that?’ said Etta faintly.
‘Last week, no, the week before. Said he had a horse running in the National. I said I was sorry I didn’t know anything about horses. Johnnie said it was crazy of me not to take him up. I told him how sad it was you couldn’t bear to come back. Everything reminded you of Mr Bancroft.’
It’s not true, Etta wanted to scream.
She drove home in turmoil, twice losing the way. Valent probably hadn’t been buying it for her and if he had, he’d have changed his mind now, thinking she still loved Sampson and remembering how vile she’d been to him. She drove slower and slower.
She must remember people in tsunamis and earthquakes and forest fires, with whole families wiped out. She must pull herself together. She still had Trixie, Poppy, Drummond, Priceless, who was now resting