At Home with the Templetons Page 12

  Hope stood in the hall, gazing around her, relaxed, confident.

  Nina found her voice again. ‘Please, come through to the living room.’

  The TV was still playing. The side table was covered in the remains of her dinner-for-one. A plate. A half-full bottle of wine. A half-empty glass. Nina felt strangely guilty, as if she’d been caught misbehaving.

  ‘Can I get you a cup of tea? A glass of wine? Water?’ she asked as she straightened the cushion on their one good armchair and gestured to Hope to take a seat. At the last second she grabbed at a sneaker that was wedged halfway down the back of the chair. ‘Sorry,’ she said, smiling for the first time. ‘My son’s.’

  ‘You have a son? That’s right, someone mentioned that.’

  Nina knew then that Hope definitely had no memory of their altercation at the fete. She decided to at least try to be polite. ‘So, wine, water? Juice? Tea?’

  ‘Do you have whisky?’

  Did she? Some brandy maybe, left over from last Christmas’s plum pudding. She offered that instead.

  ‘Fine, yes. With a little water.’

  Nina got the servant feeling again. How did this woman manage to make her feel like this, she asked herself as she stood in the kitchen, getting the drink, making doubly sure the glass was clean, running the rainwater tap for much longer than usual to make sure it was as clear as possible. Her imperious manner? Her confidence? Or was it just the upper-class accent?

  ‘Your drink,’ she said as she delivered it, tempted to add the word ‘madam’.

  Hope took a sip, closed her eyes as if in pleasure and then thanked Nina, very graciously.

  Nina settled herself in her chair, picked up her own glass of wine and waited.

  Hope began to speak moments after taking her second sip. ‘I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here. I’ve often seen your lights on as I take my evening walk.’

  Nina couldn’t stop herself from glancing down at Hope’s shoes again. Bright-red silk. They were most definitely not walking shoes.

  ‘And it seemed rude of me to walk by one more time.’

  ‘You take a walk past here every night?’

  ‘Most nights. My doctor in London advised regular exercise. Of course, I’m rattling with pills and tranquillisers as well, so why she thinks a pleasant stroll now and again will do any more good than all those chemicals, I don’t know, but it gets me out of the house and I suppose it gets me out from under their feet or in their hair as well. Which is it? Under their feet or in their hair? Or in their clutches?’

  Nina found that hard to answer. She tried nodding instead.

  ‘It’s very difficult for me, you know,’ Hope continued. ‘I often feel like one of those condemned prisoners you see in photographs from death row. A human can sense when they’re not wanted. Sense when people wish them ill will. I know they wish that I was anywhere but where I am. Do they not think I don’t feel that way myself, sometimes? Do they really think I wanted to spend this much of my life here? “We need you,” they said. “Come with us,” Eleanor begged. “It’s not charity. There’s no one better qualified to do the Templeton Hall garden than you, Hope.” ’

  ‘The garden? You’re a gardener?’

  ‘I’m a garden designer,’ Hope said, enunciating the words very clearly. ‘Though how I’m supposed to create an oasis of verdant beauty here when that ridiculous sun you have threatens to burn it to a crisp most of the year, I don’t know. Still, they insisted. “Give us a garden that would make our ancestors proud, Hope,” Henry kept saying to me. “Fuck the ancestors,” I said to him. “I’ll give you a garden that will make me proud.” I’m good at my job, you see. Oh, people always said it was Eleanor who was the bright one, with her degrees and her campaigning for home education and the rest of it, but I’m the one who did the hard graft. It’s not just a matter of picking nice-smelling flowers or pretty shrubs. It’s about colour all year round. It’s about selecting the right plants. Not that any of the oafs —’ she almost spat the word, ‘that come to drag themselves around the Hall and the gardens would notice even a leaf of it. You know I catch people cutting the roses every weekend? Pulling out whole plants? Taking cuttings? Thieves, all of them. Why don’t we just dig it all up and hand it to them as they leave? I said to Henry once. Give everyone a wheelbarrow and they can take a few trees as well. Do you have any cigarettes?’

  Nina blinked. ‘I’m sorry, no. I don’t smoke.’

  ‘Too bad. Do you know not a weekend goes by without something being stolen from the Hall? If it’s not pieces of my garden being dragged out of the soil, after all my hard work and imagination, it’s candles. Vases. A doormat one weekend. My sunglasses another time. I’d only put them down for a moment. I hadn’t even realised the Hall was open.’

  Nina tried to think of something to say. ‘You could always put those red ropes up, I suppose. Like they do in museums.’

  Hope gave her a scornful look. ‘You think I haven’t suggested that to Henry? Suggested he might think about securing some of the family heirlooms before they all vanish? Oh, but there’s no convincing Henry when he’s made up his mind. “If we do that, Hope,” he says,’ she switched to a deeper voice, ‘ “we may as well forget the whole idea. That is what makes us so appealing. That is why people come in droves to visit us.” ’

  ‘So they can steal things?’

  Another scornful look. ‘No. Because Henry believes the visitors think they’re getting an authentic experience. That they’re stepping back in time.’

  ‘It’s a very popular attraction,’ Nina dared to offer.

  ‘It’s ludicrous. The whole thing is ludicrous. When he first inherited it, my advice was to sell it. Sell it all. But, oh no, not Henry. Even if there hadn’t been that twenty-year no-selling clause with the inheritance, he wouldn’t have sold. It was an adventure, he said. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. What fun! What games! And of course Eleanor just went along with him. I warned her, you know. About the age difference. When they first met, when she told me about this man she’d found to value our poor deceased grandparents’ belongings, how charming he was, how funny, I asked her how old he was. She was deliberately vague. She didn’t tell me the truth until they were engaged and it was too late. Our parents were unhappy enough. If our grandparents had been alive, they’d have turned in their graves.’

  Nina bit her lip to stop herself smiling. She didn’t think Hope was trying to be funny.

  ‘Oh, it’s romantic at first. The older boyfriend. I know from experience myself. But it’s later that the problems begin. He gets used to being in charge, you see. And that’s exactly what happened. Eleanor became completely and utterly subjugated to him. Not only was she a child bride, barely twenty, but she was pregnant within seconds of signing the marriage certificate, as far as I could tell. She’d always told me she didn’t want to have children. Now look at her, four of them. And she’s not only mothering them, she’s educating them. Where’s the independence in that? It’s what Henry wanted, of course. For all his talk about women’s rights and love of her spirit, he’s got her exactly where he wants, under his thumb, under his control, and now trapped on the other side of the world in a ridiculous museum.’ She nearly spat the final word.

  Nina was in a difficult position, enjoying every word while knowing she shouldn’t be hearing such personal information. She tried to change the subject. ‘And have you seen much of Australia yourself?’

  Hope was having none of it. ‘I mean, what did we even know about him, apart from the fact he was an expert in antiques? It’s shopkeeping, isn’t it, at the end of the day? He’s a salesman. I asked around. The same story every time. “Henry Templeton? Oh, we adore him. So charming. So handsome. Such good manners. So generous.” Too good to be true, in my opinion. And I was right. He took his time, but I knew it would happen.’

  ‘Knew what would happen?’

  Hope gave a sinuous stretch, reminding Nina immediately of a cat. An exotic cat, like a Siamese. Hope too
k another large sip of her drink before staring at Nina. ‘There’s no delicate way to put it. He made a pass at me.’

  ‘Henry did?’

  ‘Don’t look so innocent. You’re a grown woman with a child. You didn’t find it in the cabbage patch, did you? You must know what happens to a couple’s sex life after children arrive. Where is your husband? Don’t bother. I don’t want to hear. You grew apart, he left you for another woman, blah blah blah, the usual old story. Or the other even more tedious reply. “We decided to stick together for the sake of the children.” You decided not to go down that boring old road, obviously. Well done. Once the trust is gone, there’s no regaining it, you know.’ She gave a low laugh. ‘I should know. And Eleanor must know now. How could she not know? Answer me that.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Know what?’

  ‘That Henry and I have been having an affair for years.’

  Nina couldn’t hide her shock.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, don’t be so surprised. Eleanor was never as interested in sex as me. I’d hear them arguing about it. The first time Henry and I slept together, we were both drunk. That was our excuse, but it was lust as much as wine. Too fast the first time. Better the second. And after that, quite marvellous. It’s the guilt, of course. The world’s best aphrodisiac. That’s why so many people have affairs. Sex is sex when you come down to it. It’s what happens before and afterwards that provides the thrill. How could I do it to my own sister? That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?’

  Nina blinked. Yes, that was one of the many things she was thinking. She opened her mouth, about to say that what had happened between Hope and her sister was their business, when Hope began talking again.

  ‘I used to meet him in London mostly. They lived in Brighton at the time. Or was it Yorkshire? They were always moving, two years here, three years there. Hard enough on one’s own, let alone with children. Though that’s why she became interested in the whole notion of home education. I’m talking about the two older children. The two youngest hadn’t arrived yet.’ Hope gave an unpleasant laugh. ‘Unsurprising there was a long break between them. Henry used to tell me only a miracle would get Eleanor pregnant again. She was always too tired. Too busy. Who can blame him for going elsewhere? I wasn’t the only one in his extra-curricular life, either. His work was such great cover, you see —’ She glared at Nina, in a way that made Nina feel as though she was on her property, not the other way around. ‘What was your name again?’

  Nina told her.

  Hope nodded, as if it confirmed something she’d suspected. ‘He spent all his days in grand houses, charming widows and innocent young women. They were his best customers. He can be so persuasive, you see. He has a way of talking that makes you feel as though you’re the most interesting, most beautiful, most important person to enter his life. And he really knows his subject too. That’s very attractive in a man.’

  ‘His subject?’

  ‘The antique business. Henry’s great skill is his eye for beauty. Beauty of value, of course. I went with him once on a buying trip to Scotland. Not that Eleanor knew I was there. Henry and I pretended I was his secretary. All the more spice later. I followed him around this draughty old house, up and down staircases, and by the end of it the addled old woman who owned it would have handed the whole place and all it contained to him. But do you know what he bought from her? Two items. A big old wardrobe that he exclaimed over and then a small vase that he barely seemed to notice, almost as if it was an afterthought. And of course it was the vase that was valuable. Worth tens of thousands of pounds, while the wardrobe was worthless. I think he used it for firewood. Our first affair didn’t last long. A year, less perhaps. I called a halt to it. I didn’t want what he was offering, if the truth be told. He talked of divorcing Eleanor, the two of us running away together. Completely ridiculous. He knew I was going cold on him. Eleanor had started to guess around then, too, I’m sure of it. She started coming with him on all his visits. I certainly never told her what had happened between Henry and me. It was a mistake, as far as I was concerned. And years went by, as I said, before it happened again, just a few weeks after I arrived here. I wonder, was it a fear of death that made Henry approach me again? They say that men in their forties think of death more often than they used to think of sex.’ She laughed then, a sudden noise, too loud. ‘Henry clearly thinks about both. Eleanor was away in Melbourne, down trying to convince that boarding school to take on Charlotte. Best place for her. She’s an arrogant brat, has been from the moment she could speak. As for Audrey, all she cares about is herself – but I was telling you about Henry, wasn’t I?’

  Nina nodded, not daring to speak.

  ‘Henry begged me to come here, you know. Begged me. “I need you, Hope,” he said. And it wasn’t about the garden. He knew that. I knew that. An attraction as strong as ours doesn’t die. It stays dormant. That’s the word, isn’t it?’

  Again, Nina only dared to nod.

  ‘There’s a curiosity, isn’t there, about someone you’ve slept with in your younger days. Especially if it was good. Wonderful, in fact. You always wonder, what would it be like to try it one more time? For old time’s sake? Especially if that spark of attraction is still there. And it was, from the second I arrived here. The two of us in the Hall together, me doing all I could in the garden, while Henry had I don’t know how many builders working round the clock. He needed me. And of course all that time the sexual tension was building between us. So delicious. It started with stolen kisses. It’s always sexier like that, don’t you think? Like a series of courses in an elaborate banquet, little bite-size pieces, the pleasure building and building between —’

  Nina didn’t want to hear any more. Out of nowhere, she remembered her first and only sighting of Eleanor, recalled liking her face, her expression, the look of humour in her eyes. What had seemed like good gossip to pass on to Hilary now felt tawdry and salacious. She stood up. ‘Would you like me to drive you home?’

  ‘Home?’ The haughty tone returned instantly. ‘I’m not going back there tonight.’

  You’re not staying here either, Nina thought. ‘My car’s just outside. I’ll have you home in five minutes. Or I can ring the Hall and they can collect you if you like.’ Nina didn’t really want either situation. She wasn’t sure if she’d manage to get Hope into her car. As for one of the Templetons coming here to collect Hope … no, Nina didn’t want that either, especially now she knew so much about them.

  Hope surprised her then by suddenly sitting upright. ‘Do you have a bath?’

  ‘A bath?’

  ‘Yes, a bath. I’m sorry. I’m upset. If I could just have a bath, I’ll be fine.’

  Nina pictured Hope slipping under the water. Falling asleep in the tub. Being there in the morning when Tom arrived back. ‘There’s something wrong with it,’ she improvised.

  ‘A shower, then?’

  ‘A shower?’

  ‘I have to go home. But I think if I freshen up before I go, I’ll feel much better. Please.’

  Nina was thrown by this new reasonable Hope. In truth, she’d rather Hope didn’t see the bathroom. It badly needed renovating and Tom’s cricket whites were soaking in the bath. Not that she thought Hope would notice.

  ‘Where is it? I’ll be quick,’ Hope said, standing up and steadying herself after just the briefest of sways.

  Nina made her decision. ‘Let me just get it ready.’

  ‘Thank you. You’re very kind.’ Hope sat herself down again, once more with a controlled combination of grace and tipsy unsteadiness.

  In the bathroom, Nina quickly emptied the bath of Tom’s clothes, sluiced the shower, grabbed fresh towels, wiped the mirror, put out new soap. It took her less than five minutes. When she went back to the living room, Hope was gone.

  ‘Hope?’ she called.

  She checked the kitchen. The bedrooms. Under the beds. The laundry. No sign of her. She went outside, calling Hope’s name. Nothing. Where could she have gone?
As she came around the side garden, Nina thought of her car. She had a bad habit of leaving her keys in the ignition. She ran to the driveway. The car was still there.

  ‘Hope?’ she called again. She had to be nearby. She can’t have got far in those heels.

  Nina saw her then, barely visible in the moonlight, walking unsteadily down the road that led to the main highway. There wasn’t time to worry whether she was over the limit herself. She got into the car and was pulling alongside Hope less than a minute later. She opened her door and ran around, catching up with Hope, half expecting her to lash out or collapse on the ground.

  Hope did neither. She just directed a confident stare at Nina, as if she hadn’t just made a run for it in the middle of the night wearing high red shoes. ‘I want you to take me to the police station. I’ve decided to make a formal complaint.’

  ‘Against me?’

  ‘Against the thieves who’ve been taking all my plants.’

  ‘Please, Hope, get in the car. I’ll take you home.’

  ‘No. Take me to the police station.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good id—’

  ‘Please. Please, Nina. I need your help.’

  It was the use of her name that softened Nina’s resolve. With one hand on the other woman’s sleeve, she guided Hope towards the passenger seat, manoeuvred her in with some difficulty and fastened her seatbelt. Hope was now sobbing.

  ‘I really think it would be better to drive you home,’ Nina tried again. ‘You could go to the police another time. When you’re …’ How to put it? Sober? ‘A little less tired.’