Imprint
By Kathy Farmer
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About this ebook
Kathy Farmer
Kathy Farmer lived for many years on the borders of the Welsh Marches. She now lives with her husband in Pembrokeshire, in the beautiful seaside town of Tenby. She is a Reader in the Church in Wales within the Diocese of St Davids and is a member of Tenby Arts Club. Kathy is a countrywoman, and for many years she rode her Arab mare around the hills in the Welsh Marches, and along Offas Dyke.
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Imprint - Kathy Farmer
Part One
Chapter One
26765.pngWe brushed cheeks, Goodbye Val,
I say, Have a safe journey home.
She leant closer and dropped her voice so that he couldn`t hear her, Remember, what I said, err on the side of caution!
She moved away, picked up her travelling bag as her father came and stood beside me putting his arm around my shoulder. We waved her off, and went back inside. I looked at him, he was happy, trustingly complacent, pleased with how the first visit of his daughter to my home had turned out.
I watched as he made himself a Manhattan and sat in his chair with a sigh of contentment. He took a sip, and met my eyes over the rim of the glass, they were so full of love, so sure was he in the love of myself and of his family. I turned away and walked into the kitchen. I felt sick and devastated by Val`s visit. She had said, I love my father and I`m sure his love for you is genuine, but---------
and then she had proceeded to vilify him utterly. Was I the trusting fool? I shouldn`t have listened to her, yet part of me was curious and I wanted to hear what she so obviously wanted me to know. What other motive could she possibly have had, if not to warn me.
Don`t marry him,
she had cautioned. Don`t change your will.
Alarm bells rang. How did she know that I was about to change my will? Don`t leave him any money. Why should you? It belongs to your children. He is a survivor. He will turn everything to his own advantage--- just don`t ever trust him.
My God, was she telling me that he was a conman? In the beginning, he had made me believe that he was not interested in a relationship with me. Thrice married, he had done with women in his life. They had all spelt trouble and broken his heart. The last one had taken his house, his restaurant, and his money, forcing him to work in bars in a hand to mouth existence, at a time in his life when he should have been comfortable and contemplating retirement.
Finally, his health had broken down and he had returned from Portugal to the U.K. which is where I met him at a Writing Group. I was widowed, comfortably off, and lonely. He had an old-fashioned courteousness and an Irish silver-tongued charm about him, not that he spoke with an Irish accent, but part of his charm must have come from his Southern Irish father who had no doubt charmed his Jewish mother when they first met in London. So, he had Irish charm and Jewish acuity. A potent cocktail. I fell in love with him and despite his protestations, made the running, and oh, so slowly and imperceptibly, he moved in with me. I could not now envisage life without him. He was sweet in temperament, caring and good fun to be with. He liked the good things in life, good food, fine wine, Michelin Star Restaurants. He liked to cook studying new recipes, and cooking by the book. Delia was the woman he looked up to. Nothing could befall a dish if he followed Delia to the letter. I found this very sweet in a man, especially in a man who had served in the Merchant Navy during the war, although at the time he was only a teen-ager. He never appeared to be coarsened by what he saw or by the ship- mates he had worked with. He was up-beat in outlook and adventurous and he had made me happy. He had turned my mourning into joy.
But now his daughter Val had left me with a heavy heart and the beginnings of doubt. I should dismiss it. She is a bitter woman, I think, jealous of any other woman who she thinks, takes her father`s love away from her. This is what divorce does to children. It messes them up for the rest of their lives. I should feel sorry for her. She must love him, I reason, because she phones him practically every day. So why the assassination of his character to me. Why? I look across at him. How could I doubt him? I love him, and yet—hadn`t he once said to me, You are too trusting, too gullible. If someone wanted to, they could fleece you.
Was he the one who was going to fleece me? I wonder. He senses me looking at him and smiles back at me, his blue eyes warm with love and contentment, Let me get you a drink, darling, what would you like?
he asks, getting to his feet. No, nothing thank you. I`m really very tired, Daniel. I`m going to bed.
I go to bed with a headache, feeling unsure, disloyal. I don`t know what? I am incapable of any more thought.
He leaves the next morning after breakfast. This is his space, when he goes to his flat to see if there is any post; to talk with his son Simon, Val`s brother. Simon, is a softly spoken man, like his father, charming, suave and smartly dressed, shoes immaculately polished. Simon was an ex-army officer who now suffers from stress related service during the IRA troubles and has taken early retirement. Is he in it too? The insidious thought comes into my head. Were they even now plotting their scam on me? The phone rings, making me jump. It`s Ann, wife no.1, mother of his daughter and son. I had met her at their granddaughter Charlotte`s wedding in London, earlier in the year, where Daniel had taken one look at the bride coming down the aisle on Val`s arm, and had exclaimed, Isn`t she lovely!
and then burst into tears, and had to blow noisily into a hanky. His first wife was sitting directly in front of us, wearing a red dress and a large black hat. She turned round at Daniel`s noisy outburst, her brown eyes quickly assessing me. Afterwards, at the reception Ann, had honed down on me when I was on my own. In a friendly manner I told her how much I admired the adventures she had had with Daniel, living in Canada, then in Ohio America, with their two young children. She told me that she still had lifelong friends there in Canada, that she visited over the years, and then sneeringly said that none of them would have anything to do with Daniel after the divorce. My goodness, I thought, she`s getting the boot in quickly against Daniel.
Ann had been put on our table together with Simon`s first wife, now divorced and two beautiful looking daughters who, throughout the meal told me how Simon their father had wrecked all their lives in a very controlling way, yet living it up with his army mates drinking excessively. To me it sounded like Simon had been married first, to the army, and second to his wife and children, a familiar story. They were only attending their cousin`s wedding because they knew that Simon, their father, had not been invited. When the dancing started Ann came and stood beside me as I leant over the gallery rail watching the dancing below. Over the noise of the dance band she suddenly asked me what had attracted me to Daniel? A wicked desire sprang up in me to say, `Sex,` but I answered primly that we shared the same interests in creative writing and classical music and that we were two lonely people who made each other happy. She nodded her head and said, for the other woman, I like you.
I laughed, it was a compliment.
Daniel told me how well you danced together,
I say.
Did he tell you that?
she said surprised. Yes, we were good dancers, so much so, that it spoilt us for dancing with anyone else.
After a short pause she asked slyly Would you mind, dear, if I had a dance with him now?
No, of course not.
She went over to him and I could see he was surprised, instinctively looking across at me seeking my approval. I inclined my head. He got up and followed her onto the dance floor. There was something about them that was both touching and ludicrous. They assumed a pose, a certain presence, pulling themselves upright. For a tall, big man he was surprisingly light on his feet. I watched fascinated as they danced through a fox-trot, and thought how sad, that the mother and father of Val and Simon, but for one un-forgiven mistake made years ago, could have still been together today. Now, here she was phoning me to see how Val`s visit to us had gone. I take a deep breath.
Yes, we`ve had a lovely time together thank you Ann,
I say, trying to lift my voice so that she can`t hear the heaviness I was feeling Val left yesterday, hasn`t she been in touch?
No, not yet. And how is his Lordship?
she asks with heavy