Shaped by Memory

By Paul Westmoreland

“I see the girl running towards me now just as she did that day when I reached Drew Stainer’s land.”

Such is the shape of one memory Guy Tynan retains of his adventures in Canada when he travels there to find his distant relatives and so fulfils a plan which his grandfather David never managed. Memories of his family and their close friends the Hursts will also be important to him.

Guy’s meeting with Nicola Stainer will lead him to unlock some of her life’s mysteries with a key she is only too eager to protect while sharing her story with him. As he tries to understand her, she in turn will ask him to talk of his childhood sweetheart, Julia Hurst, and will wonder, as his family has, what can have happened to create a gulf between them. Years of exile cannot protect Guy from “the possibility of a horrific and irreversible mistake” as he remains haunted by memories of an encounter in Hareton Woods, and an earlier adventure shared with his cousin Mel.

Shaped by Memory is not simply about the power of “what would be so much better forgotten”, whether this involves a missing watch, dreadful war-time experiences or the hurt inflicted by damaged relationships; it is also about how much more can be lost in the course of time by a failure to see clearly, for “what you think you see might not be what you’re looking at.”

Guy Tynan will not be alone in having to “think of how not seeing the true picture has the potential for limitless damage.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Dec 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9781035822416

Paul Westmoreland

Paul Westmoreland was born and raised in Nottingham. Shaped by Memory is his fourth novel following Raineland (2017), Christmas Night (2020) and The Hiding Place (2022). His professional life has been as a teacher in Buckinghamshire, Leeds, and, for twenty-three years, in Carlisle. He lives with his wife in Penrith, where Shaped by Memory was completed.

Book preview

Anna Payton

1

And so it was that Guy Tynan returned to England at the end of that first decade in the new century. He flew to Heathrow as he had three years earlier, made his way to King’s Cross and set off for the North.

Three years before, it had been very cold with snow in the air, though nothing matched the snow lying deep in Edmonton, where he had resided for much of the last twelve years.

His mother and father would not be at home; he knew this already. They had retired the previous summer and promised themselves a journey to the Western United States. Now in their mid-sixties, they feared they might not have the energy for it if they left it much longer.

You are the limit, you know! his mother had written. You promise faithfully to be back last Christmas, and then keep us waiting all this time! Your father has said some choice things, Guy, which is unusual for him. It will be more than three years since we last saw you by the time we get back! It really is too bad of you!

Her words had stung his conscience. They had troubled him. His father, Graham, had written two months before. You’ve done just as my uncle Edmund did, Graham Tynan had written. You go off to seek fame and fortune and ration us to a few days in the year if we’re lucky! You might have considered Mum more in all of this.

Guy’s sister had also phoned and written and asked him whether he were not becoming selfish. She had asked him on his last visit and in years before whether he were not keeping a secret lover hidden from his family; was it this girl he had met who had kept him for such long stretches on the other side of the Atlantic?

Susan, or Susie as they all still seemed to call her, had married her long-time boyfriend, Gavin Robson. She had been at school with him and the relationship had grown strong and remained strong as is often the way with childhood sweethearts. Guy himself might have done the same, for, if anyone had made a close relationship while growing up then it was him; but he had not seen the woman in question for a decade. Susie had told him he had been rotten to Julia and it still annoyed him to think of how they could all say so much in the girl’s defence without hearing his story or asking to hear it.

Having made his arrangements to return to England, Guy did not change them because his parents would not be back in the country for a few more days. He had decided not to go immediately to Susie and Gavin’s in Manchester where they now lived with their daughter; he would instead go to Yorkshire and stay for a couple of days with his Aunt Anna and his cousin Melissa.

Mel had also married, but, horribly enough, the man had turned out to be violent not to mention unfaithful, so she was now back at her mum’s and, apparently, out of work. Guy had known Mel all of his life. Having had various male partners, it was not unlike her to eventually marry the worst of the lot. Indeed, she had written to him more explicitly than Anna about the marriage and had then made it clear to him that she and her mother had fallen on hard times and wondered if he could do anything to help.

Aunt Anna, he knew, would never have admitted to such an unpleasant truth.

Now approaching his fortieth year, Guy Tynan was still tall and straight and fairly athletic. His dark hair showed no treacherous grey and, on his visits to his old home, most of them liked to tell him he never looked any different. He had spent plenty of the time thinking about his family. He knew he could have told them more of his story in the time he had been away. But the adventure which had befallen him had left him in awe of the events so that words seemed unable to do his story justice. But he had told Susie and his parents about his friend and they inevitably wanted to know about her.

Back at last in Yorkshire, Guy looked about him at Anna Payton’s house. It took him a few minutes to understand ways in which it had changed. The wallpaper caught his attention. They had always favoured white wood-chip during the years he had been a regular visitor; and now this lime-green stuff was not quite right. It seemed faded too, but some things never change for here, on the wall to the right of the window, was that picture of the two girls, still only eight or ten years old after a century of hanging there, in their blue sailor-suit attire, with those wideawake hats somehow refusing to blow off their heads, running towards the cottage of the old lady; here she was sitting on her bench with her silver hair tied back and her face surprisingly free of wrinkles, sitting so reassuringly with the calm sea in the background and the single yacht passing by so leisurely under a blue sky with just a few scudding clouds; there was—so much to recall in that same friendly old print, helping to make the world familiar once more.

That old long case clock had just the same effect. According to Mel it had not worked for years and yet the mechanism could no doubt be repaired; problem was, she had told him, that neither she nor her mum liked the ticking.

Anna could remember it from her own girlhood. Now that I’m getting old, Guy, I don’t want that metronomic tick I always hated when I was a teenager! It’s much better, you must admit, to have the little red numbers bright and quiet in the dark of the bedroom. Anyway, I’m sounding like a poet so I need to leave you for a minute.

There had been no sign of Aunt Anna when Guy had reached the house. Mel told him they were at sixes and sevens; he was earlier than they had expected but it was really good to see him again after so long. It was Mel who had greeted him; her mum was, she said, out getting a few things for tea. He found Mel looking older, though he knew he should not expect to see a girl anymore now that she was thirty-six. She was losing her figure; those capri pants she wore showed as much; she wore a loose shirt and an unbuttoned cardigan; the kind of things Mel had never worn when he had called here that Easter, but never mind that, it already belonged to several years earlier.

Did you get my letter? Mel had asked him and he had confirmed that he had. Sorry about all that, telling you we’re close to broke. Mum gets a pension soon, can’t believe it, can you? A state pension, but she’s only got three days’ work at the moment.

Mel fitted this in briskly before her mother’s arrival. But then Mel herself left him with his cup of coffee to finish, though in fact he wanted no more. It struck him that Mel was being furtive. It had struck him as strange, when he was admitted, that the door should be kept fastened when Anna was expected.

Now Mel was out of the room. He could hear some movement upstairs. Perhaps she was getting changed; she might have a date, for surely, she would never change for him. That word ‘change’—when she had seen him on the doorstep, Mel had used it in another way, telling him that he never changed at all. Perhaps he was a little broader, but his hair was just as dark, his face browner, his eyes ever alert, still young while she knew she was older now.

Guy had grown accustomed to the fact, over some years, that Mel had no plans to have children. Still, Jake had been bad news for her. Guy could not conceive of the idea of hitting a woman. Just as well this bad man had gone away. He had once, Guy reflected, found it hard to like Amir when she was with him, but Amir would have been a better bet than Jake.

Guy had stood up when Mel left the room; now he sat down again. The remnants of his cup of coffee were unwanted. He had left his bag near the doorway, but there was no point in moving it until his aunt told him which room they were putting him in. He felt tired from his journey. He did not mind the quiet of the living room, though it was strange to experience it here where they always seemed to have on the TV or the radio.

It had been a smooth journey; he had made good time and caught an earlier train. He should have called them from the station. He had never meant to cause any muddle, but it was only just after three in the afternoon.

Melissa had tied her hair back; he saw it at once on her return; she was wearing some drop earrings too and had put on some make-up—coloured her cheeks which had seemed pasty before. Her natural hair colour had always been mouse-brown, but she was always changing it. At present, she had high-lighted it with some blonde streaks; she had changed into a tighter, lower cut top to make more of her boobs and now she had a black cardigan with the sleeves pulled back from the wrists. Only now did she blame herself for not offering him another cup of coffee.

What was I thinking—and take off your coat. I hope you’re not cold.

Perhaps it was cold in the living room. He was still in the anorak she remembered from his last visit. She remembered the blue and white facing and the fact that it had come from the store where he worked and which he now partly owned. Underneath she could see his blue rugby shirt and the trousers he wore had also been designed for the Canadian outdoors. Mel told him how thin he looked and what a good complexion he had. Perhaps she should have come to Canada with him.

Guy thought how quickly he had made the transition from the vast lands of the west to this house which he was already finding familiar once more, though somehow it had become smaller with its lime green paper.

She had made him a fresh cup of coffee, before he had time to tell her that he did not really need one, and insisted on taking his coat. He did not object since they were still getting used to each other. A noise at the door made them aware of Anna Payton’s return.

Anna had never remarried once she had got rid of the unpleasant Ian Payton. She had once told Guy, who remembered most of his family’s history, that she had passed on to Melissa one unfortunate trait: namely, If there were a hundred guys at a party and only one was a jerk, I’d pick him! And I think Mel’s done the same with Jake!

How then did his aunt look to him, as she arrived at last with a bag of shopping, three years after their last meeting? She had aged from the youthful woman he had known during his years of growing-up; she was no longer his mother’s naughty sister, indeed she seemed flustered, frightened even.

Sometimes he had thought that Anna (no one had ever called her by her given name of Hannah in his presence) had probably never been so naughty after all. He would never know how she had been as a teenager any more than he would ever know how his father and mother had been when they had first met, still less how his beloved grandfather, David had been as a young man who had no sooner grown up than it was time to send him to war.

Yes, Anna really did seem flustered, seemed out of breath on seeing him instead of giving him the welcome that showed what a favourite he was with her. Certainly, she did not look well; her face was pale, her eyes showed how recent years had worn her. Some of that must be because of her failed marriage to Ian Payton; then, when she had taken up with someone she had met through internet dating, that too had failed and proved not to be the romantic revival she must have hoped for.

Indeed, it had struck Guy on many occasions that his aunt, who had all the skills he felt he lacked, should have failed to find a good partner; and now, instead of throwing her arms around him as he expected, looked unhappy and tired and her figure seemed stooped. He could not miss the look she gave her daughter which seemed to him to be a plea of some sort…and then came a man in navy jacket and grey trousers, stepping into the doorway she had left ajar.

Mel turned immediately to Guy and asked him to help if he could.

Of course, he told her calmly. It was the calm born of knowing that he was not to blame for whatever might be happening here.

But before Guy could say a word, the man in the navy jacket was already speaking.

Time’s up, Mrs Payton. You know that, if you can’t pay, I’m here to collect whatever can be taken.

Having heard this and seen the look on his aunt’s face, Guy Tynan adopted a frozen register in asking, Did someone invite you in?

Are you the son? said stranger.

…Because if they haven’t, continued Tynan imperturbably, you’d better step outside again.

That’s fine by me, said the man in the navy jacket, his gaze now firmly fixed on Guy Tynan, his voice belonging to someone with no need to apologise, since I didn’t come alone.

He held up some sort of document as he spoke. Guy was aware of it though his own gaze remained coldly fixed on this stranger who was somewhat shorter than himself, inclining to stoutness, hair thinning, moustache that didn’t suit him, puffy eyes…

So, you’re one of those, said Guy.

Who are you to look down your nose at me? came the reply Your mother owes us four thousand. She can renew now for one more month. We wrote and then phoned to say we’d be coming, especially since she’s not come to see us.

This lady is my aunt, Guy told him, and you pay-day loan types leave me with a nasty taste. Give me the paper.

On receiving it, Tynan gave it a cursory glance. Anna wanted to explain but her tongue felt stuck to the roof of her mouth. She felt so sick she thought she might never hold up her head again.

Is this true? Guy suddenly asked Mel. She too found it hard to speak but she shrugged and then nodded. Her shrug reminded Guy of someone else from his other world; it took him by surprise to think that his cousin had a gesture identical to hers. But he recovered as Melissa told him it was a loan. We had to pay this bill; it all started for a lot less.

Guy turned back to the man in the jacket. I’ll pay this now, he said, if you can give me an official receipt and write that all business dealings between us are closed. I’ll want your address.

They know the address, said the debt collector. They went there quickly enough when they needed help!

I don’t care about that! Tynan told him with a baleful look. He reached over to his anorak which Mel had simply put on the back of an arm-chair and pulled his cheque book from one of the pockets; but the rotund man in the blue jacket told him that he had to take cash.

I don’t write cheques that bounce, Tynan told him. He looked now at Anna and asked her in a kindlier tone whether the man was who he claimed to be. She simply nodded.

I’m Douglas Tucker. I’ve two colleagues in the car outside to vouch for me.

So long as we have your address and number we’re settling in full right now.

Back went the cheque book into the anorak with the yellow and white facings. Tynan then took from his heavy-duty trousers a wad of bank notes and quickly counted two hundred £20 notes. While he did this, he told Tucker to be quick with the receipt and to write ‘paid in full’ on it. The eyes of his aunt Anna and Melissa Payton were riveted to his every move.

Within two minutes, Guy had his receipt and his discharge and Douglas Tucker was left with the money and the prospect of having to leave. Tucker drew breath.

Don’t bother saying thank you, Guy Tynan told him, looking carefully at the receipt and words of release, we won’t be doing business again.

The incident was over. Tucker had gone. Mel and Anna stood rooted in their own living room. Guy Tynan tried to hide the ironic smile forcing itself into his mouth. It had suddenly occurred to him that these two women, whom he had known all his life, might never speak again unless he said something.

He put Tucker’s receipt into Anna’s hands and told her to put it somewhere safe. This did the trick, for suddenly she was holding him in her arms. Oh, you darling man! she said, and then repeated it several times.

After a minute or so, he held his aunt at arm’s length. It looks like I timed my arrival pretty well, he said.

My darling, we’ll pay you—

Forget it—truly.

We got into trouble.

You can tell me later, he said gently to Anna. Just for now, and here he looked at Mel whose own expression of disbelief forced a broad grin onto his face, perhaps I’d better have my coffee.

Inevitably, on this day of Guy Tynan’s return, time was spent by Mel and Anna telling him how they had agreed to a pay-day loan and a debt that was beginning to look insurmountable. He was eventually to tell them about his return trip and they then talked a little of family matters and people he had not seen for a while, and how long he might be staying. His aunt and his cousin inevitably wanted to know how he had become wealthy enough to have four thousand in cash to hand, especially when he later gave Anna a further five hundred; but their gratitude imposed firm restraint.

However, at one point he anticipated their thoughts by telling his aunt that Mel had mentioned something about a financial problem, So, when I got to London, I drew some money from the bank there. It was worth it just to see the look on that jerk’s face!

Later, lying in their beds, mother and daughter would think of how, years before, Guy had gone to Canada to find his grandfather’s relatives and perhaps make his fortune there. From the evidence they had seen, he appeared to have achieved his aim.

2

The morning after he arrived at his aunt’s house, Guy Tynan stayed in bed longer than he usually did, though in reality this meant he was up and about just after eight o’clock. His breakfast was a simple affair—a bowl of cereal, a piece of toast and a cup of coffee—which he ate sitting at the table by the living room window. Anna wanted to tell him all over again that she could never thank him enough for saving her, but he assured her again that it was very little and that she need not think of any repayment.

Truth is, she told him, that I can get my O.A.P. next month, terrible though it is to think of! When I was an awful teenager, I thought it was cool to pay as an adult before I needed to, just to show I wasn’t a kid! I’ve been doing this job at the carpet shop since you last came; dull as ditch water, of course, and then they started losing money and reduced my hours. Still, even that’s better than being laid off!

Guy listened sympathetically, content to let her tell her story. Once she had been secretary to an estate agent, but he didn’t want to ask how that had come to an end.

Mel came to join them at breakfast. She too expressed gratitude, especially on her mother’s behalf, and told him that he could not have arrived a minute later, Or that loan shark, as she called Tucker, would have bled us dry. She promised to tell him some of her own recent story, but felt it could wait until later in the day. Guy himself meant to go into the city on business and asked about the bus route. Anna laughed when he did this. It was good to hear her sounding more cheerful since he had always thought of her as an optimist, but he asked her what she had found funny.

It’s just the thought that you need to catch a bus, Guy!

Guy laughed too. He had, he said, been known to catch one. Melissa wanted to ask him about his wealth, but knew she must not do that just yet. The ease with which he had dealt with Tucker was still a source of fascination for her.

Melissa Payton knew that she had led a chequered life with a bad marriage and other broken relationships with men. She had dropped out of university and taken a number of secretarial jobs and others serving in shops. Indeed, she was due to begin at a local supermarket the following week. Her saving strength was that she did not let many problems prey on her mind for long, even her biggest recent step in returning to live with her mother in the family home where she had lived for much of her life. It was easier than paying rent she could no longer afford in a flat she had never much liked. Jake had told her it was her own fucking fault. She already knew he had no sensitivity. In her twenties she had seriously wanted a baby, but then had come the jolt—chlamydia had made it so that she could not conceive.

Guy’s return had coincided with her starting a new job at a supermarket at the start of next week She had never expected her mother to be reduced to three days a week just as she was close to drawing her state pension. From what Anna had told her, the carpet place might close down completely before long. The loan debt had preyed on their minds for the last two months, every day of it a source of distress to her mother.

A new boiler had become essential and Anna had signed an agreement with Douglas Tucker which she had told Mel, must have been a way to punish all of her sins at one blow. In truth, Mel could find no words of consolation for the type of mistake others had easily made in those early years of the new century. She knew she had never been very good at sympathy, but she had wanted to help. Poor Anna had proceeded as though she might any day be sent to gaol.

I wish to God, she had said, that I had never seen him! What on earth was I thinking, Mel? How the hell did I go to him? Such outbursts had led to so many tears and time of anxiety that Mel had told her mother she must not cry anymore, Or I swear I’ll kill him myself!

Now, sitting together at breakfast, the day after the fairy tale ending as Anna called it, the poor aunt drew a great sigh and said Guy was wonderful, a darling man as he had always been. The mother and daughter had both started smoking again and talked of the fact that Guy probably hated cigarette smoke and yet had said nothing.

Anna’s sister, Amy (Guy’s mother), had told her she was crazy for doing it and Anna, while never explaining to her sister about the debt, had replied that she had to smoke to soothe her nerves. Amy had then told her how pathetic that sounded and the sisters had quarrelled not long before Amy had gone with her husband to explore the USA. Naturally enough, Guy asked that morning for more about what he had called the great western adventure.

I’m in bad books anyway, he observed, for not having got back sooner.

Anna could not find a word of criticism. She felt that it was amazing how quickly three years could go by. He had just saved them. Even Mel with her harder nature thought exactly the same; it was inevitable that they should come back to the subject of the money he had so readily produced.

It was his sheer courage that got me! Mel said while Guy was out of the room. When you think of how genteel he’s always been in all the years we’ve known him.

Genteel to us, yes, her mother agreed. But the fact is he knew he had a rattlesnake in front of him.

It was easy for Melissa to agree; but she could not tell her mother of how this talk about Guy had revived memories in her of an Easter holiday night when she, as a sixteen-year-old with her hormones twitching, had lured a far younger Guy to sit next to her on the same settee (much worn and patched now) where she was now relaxing.

Guy had been such an innocent then and she had never forgotten, since it had been, she was sure, his first time.

But what now of the tall, dark-haired hero with such a reserve of bank-notes? The trouble was that he had been saving himself, that is to say, everyone had always assumed he had been saving himself for his wonderful Julia and Mel knew she had spoiled it for them: firstly, she had laid him on the settee that Easter and secondly, she had later told him when she knew Julia was with Stuart Fox.

But Mel suddenly came back to the discussion she was having with her mother about Guy’s money. Of course, things had worked out for him in Canada, but how on earth had he managed that performance? Was he Monte Cristo? Had he found a gold mine out in the land of the Klondike? Perhaps he was some revived version of Gatsby or another Quartermain who had come upon a vast treasure hoard. How? How had he done it? Had such riches truly come from helping his cousin keep a store or had he simply bought a winning lottery ticket?

I just can’t ask, Anna said, her face suffused with a smile of relief. It doesn’t feel right to ask, not after his…his nobility and kindness. He didn’t have to do that, Mel, not after all this time away. There are others who must have a bigger claim on him.

The relief was overwhelming. To be indebted to Guy, to be in his power, was safety, the opposite of the snare in which Tucker had held her. She had, she admitted to Mel, a range of jobs she could be doing and yet here she sat, immobilised by her nephew’s kindness.

Before going into town, Guy had asked them about his sister, Susie and her husband Gavin. His questions had begun the previous evening. He intended to go over to Manchester to see her as soon as he could. Anna did not ask why he had not thought to go to Susie’s first; after all, where would she have been without him? Guy, in any case, had admitted that his inclination had been to come back to the old place where he had done his growing up first of all.

Mel had already asked her mother whether she should be the one to tell him their other secrets, but Anna had asked her to leave that until tomorrow. The lad’s only just got back, she told her daughter. She called him ‘lad’ though he was nearly forty. The trouble was that she knew Mel might shoot her mouth off without ever meaning to. She had never been trustworthy with secrets, always wanted to be the naughty girl, that’s how she’d ended up with no children.

Just let’s have a bit of peace first, Anna had said, hoping she wasn’t making too big a thing of her secret which would trigger her daughter into saying something.

The two of them did little during the morning. Mel read once more her email from the supermarket which told her about her training arrangements. It was a job; it would have to do; she must put any what-might-have-been stuff out of her mind the way she usually had in life. If she hadn’t dropped Guy straight after that first and only intimacy acted out on the settee and not been so easily taken with Amir instead, and if she hadn’t then left him and taken up with a shit like Jake Hillhouse…but this was why she should not think of these things; it could never do any good.

She had simply been like her mum who had apparently been a wild teenager, unlike Amy who had been the good girl. Her mother and her aunt Amy had told her bad stories handed down by gran, such as that one about a friend called Louisa who had put her head in the gas oven many years before because her husband had hit her so much, put her head into the mouth of death and been sent to prison for attempting suicide.

It had left Mel to think that she too had known a violent man but at least society might have understood her better than this Louisa of her gran’s time. Then there had been someone else whose baby had been taken away because she wasn’t married and yet, as gran herself would admit, within a few years women would burn their bras and the single mum would need to make no apologies.

It was no good, thought Mel, sharing her thoughts with her mother. It would only make her gloomy now that she was ill, so Mel turned on the television and watched a studio audience show where some girl was going on at her boyfriend for sleeping with her mother when all of them looked overweight and unattractive to boot.

When Anna asked her must she watch such trash, Mel switched off, smoked a little of her joint and then went upstairs because she felt she could tidy herself. She thought she might wear earrings for when Guy got back, perhaps renew her nail paint and she must have a nicer sweater than the one she was wearing. Adam was at work so she couldn’t go to see him yet. She liked the idea that he had some money, but she couldn’t make up her mind about him yet.

Though neither Mel nor Anna said so, they seemed to be doing nothing but wait for Guy’s return. It was difficult for Anna who was now only needed at the carpet shop on the first three days of the week. Though she meant to make more use of Thursday and Friday, she knew she had settled to doing very little. She had already made an effort with the cleaning ready for her nephew’s coming; perhaps she should bake something, make him a cake, anything to keep her busy and stop her dwelling on her illness.

When Guy returned at lunch-time he came in a car he had bought, a Volkswagen hatchback. Mel was looking out of the window at the time and saw him pull up on the gravel drive. Through all of life’s tribulations, her mother had somehow clung on to the old family semi-detached where Melissa had done her growing up. But, when the last car had been sold for scrap, Anna had not been able to replace it. There was plenty of room for the Volkswagen in front of the garage.

Guy was wearing a black T-shirt under his leather jacket, both of them, along with those outdoor trousers, from the trusty store in Canada. Anna, who had applied some make-up of her own during the morning, to hide her pallid face, simply beamed on Guy when he stepped into her living room once more. She told herself he had not changed at all—tall and good-looking with a healthy tan and that short dark hair; if there were a few extra lines in his face, he still looked like a young man and he was now her hero for ever. She needed to believe that; it made it easier to forget her own decline.

How quickly everything takes on its old shape, he said.

You’ve been busy by the looks of it! Anna said, pointing through the window to where the car stood on her drive.

Thought I needed some wheels, was his reply. Are you two still driving? His voice faded as he realised his error.

We had to sell up, Mel told him with that shrug of hers which had helped her to deal with life’s troubles. He thought of that other girl and her shrug, someone he had met on one of his early expeditions not far from Calgary. But her gesture had not been the same as Mel’s; in any case, she was gone now.

You must take turns in this one, Guy told them of the Volkswagen. I was thinking of visiting Susie in Wilmslow tomorrow. You can come if you want. She said she hadn’t seen you for a while when I called her.

I—I’ve an appointment first thing, Anna told him apologetically. Her face said she would much rather not have one at all, but Guy told her they would wait for her if she liked.

It’s only fifty miles, he said. Then he laughed. I once thought that was a nice ride, but in Canada it’s no more than going to the next street! Anyway, I thought I’d better get on and see her. Mum and Dad are back on Saturday. They’re coming from London on the train same as I did so I can always collect them.

When Anna made him some coffee, he offered to take them both out for dinner, an offer they readily accepted.

Sorry my parents are annoyed with me, he told them. I meant to remember all the stuff I’ve been told.

Anna of course told him he had done nothing amiss as far as she was concerned.

I wouldn’t worry about it, Guy, Mel told him. Think of all the times I’ve screwed up! Having messed up with Jake at least I got rid of him! And, incidentally, I use my own name again!

What about Adam?

Guy had not forgotten Jake Hillhouse; Mel’s divorce had been all the talk during his last visit home. He had met him a few times, but felt he should have beaten him senseless. Now he asked a few questions about Mel’s latest. This Adam appeared to be loaded (Not that he’ll be a millionaire like you, Guy, she said making an obvious invitation for him to tell her more about his money) but it appeared to be an off-and-on arrangement.

Truth is, Mel confessed, he’s not really my type, too old and fat or too something. His money would help though, but—perhaps I’m a romantic after all. I’ve promised Mum I won’t muck him about.

Anna did not want to be drawn on this subject. Certainly, she felt her daughter had misbehaved too often and she knew there would be no grandchildren for her. Guy asked her to think of somewhere they might go for dinner.

I nearly forgot, said Mel suddenly. You’ll never guess who I saw last week, our old mate Nigel Bendon.

Guy was visibly unimpressed. So, he still lives around here, was all he could think of by way of reply.

It was funny really. I knew him straight away; well, you’d not mistake him, would you? He’s got this designer stubble and still looks, after all this time, as though he needs a haircut. He looked quite fat and his face looks as though he drinks a lot. Anyway, he went on about how happy he was with his new woman. His marriage ended a long time ago of course. Bendy of course said that was all Mary’s fault. God knows how that poor little kid, Mary, ever put up with him. I’ve got a feeling that the oldest boy went to prison—hit and run driving incident.

Guy had not heard Mary Court’s name mentioned for a long time. He had not seen her since his school days. But even Mel’s laughter could not induce a smile from him on the subject of Nigel Bendon.

It might’ve been me! Mel cried, though there was heavy irony in her tone. If I’d known how Jake was going to be, I might have had Bendy instead! Mind you, I don’t know who told me, but he’s been known to hit girls as well. Thank God Julia packed up with him straight away.

What! Guy’s exclamation had a sharpness to it.

When Julia got back from Africa, he asked her out, Alison told me—or your mum did; but it never got off the ground. Alison said Bendy was nasty.

Alison was Julia’s mother. Guy, Mel and Anna had known her all their lives. Mel had supposed Guy might want to pursue this subject since it was her first (quite deliberate) mention of Julia. But Guy fell quiet and so Anna turned the conversation to his parents, Amy and Graham, and how on earth he’d come to be in bad books. This was to do with his not having been in touch frequently enough for their liking. Guy did not look to defend himself, though he said he wished his mother had not told him so often that his grandfather would also have wondered about his long absences.

I did tell her, Guy admitted, that Grandad and I talked a lot; she knows that only too well. It was Grandad who regretted that he hadn’t gone to see Uncle Edmond.

Jenny would never have agreed, Anna observed. You remember Jenny, don’t you, Mel?

Of course, I do!

David and Jenny were in fact Guy’s grandparents on his father’s side. He had never known his mother’s father who had died before his birth. Amy had always been fond of David and, after Jenny’s death, had readily allowed her father-in-law to live with the family.

I was sorry I missed Christopher’s passing, Guy suddenly told them. He and Grandad were such friends, but I wasn’t in Edmonton when he died. I was away on a trip, and I hadn’t, wasn’t able—to get back for the funeral. I tell you that as the simple truth, though I know it won’t sound convincing.

We don’t mind, my love, his aunt Anna told him loyally. I’m sure Chris knew that you would have come had you been able. I don’t always agree with Amy, you know, and I think she expects a lot of you. I hope you won’t mind my saying that of my own sister. But Christopher was a nice man; David and he were such good friends. Strange, isn’t it, that they didn’t know each other during the war? The families met up by chance that day at Kirkstall Abbey and, once they got talking, there was no stopping them. They just had such a lot in common.

Susie reminds me of it often enough, as though I didn’t know it myself, was Guy’s response. I’ll text her and tell her that we’ll all be coming tomorrow.

It’ll be good to hear what she’s been up to, Mel told him, though she spoke with no huge enthusiasm. We’ve not seen her for ages. Is she still at that college?

Guy confirmed it was true. Still teaching history, he said. Still lecturing, I should say. His voice acquired a note of reminiscence. I’ve not seen Cathy since she was a tot and now, she’s a senior, well, eleven at any rate. We’ll leave tomorrow as soon as you’re ready, Auntie. How long’s the appointment?

Not long, Anna replied. I need another scan.

It was the first time she had admitted to having a medical problem. Guy apologised for poking his nose in, but she was quick to tell him not to be silly. But he saw how flushed his aunt was given her pallor of the previous evening and he caught Melissa’s eye at that moment and knew in an instant that Mel just wanted her mother to tell him.

There’s a lump you see, said Anna. They’ve not said so, but I think it means an operation.

3

When Guy leaned forward to press her hand, he saw the tear in her eye as well as feeling one in his own. Ever since childhood he had liked to come here; he enjoyed Anna’s light-heartedness. She had always been one to help you relax when the world (including her own) was in turmoil. She had never been one to complain even when it turned out that her husband, Ian Payton, had given her a bad time of it…and it touched him to see her in such a hard place. Even now she tried to make little of her own trouble as she said, I’ve always wondered what it’s like to hear Susie teach.

Guy had never heard his sister before an audience either.

She was always grateful to Julia of course, Anna reminded him. It must have really helped her when she did A-levels.

Guy had also heard Susie express her gratitude.

Well, of course they both did history, Anna continued. I’m surprised now I think of it that Julia didn’t become a teacher herself.

She’s working in the library at the moment, Mel observed wanting to make a contribution. Secretly she felt bad about the way she had treated Julia and knew she could have done more to establish Christopher Furland’s beloved granddaughter in Guy’s favour. But so long had passed.

Do Mum and Dad still see much of Alison and Don? Anna asked her nephew.

Not much, was Guy’s reply. Both women could see that he did not wish to pursue the subject.

We got their card, Anna told him. Mum’s and Dad’s, I mean. Guy knew she meant his own mum and dad. They thought the Grand Canyon was sensational!

Would you like to see it, Aunt Anna? Guy asked her.

Why yes, my love, yes I would, when I’ve sorted myself out here.

Guy felt guilty then.