A Friend of the Family Read Online Free PDF Page A

riding accident. Accident? Or had it been suicide? Cass would never know. For months afterwards she had thought of her daughter, not quite sixteen, taking her pony out and riding off in the wild storm of that dreadful dav, up to the quarry which she knew to be a dangerous area even in good conditions. Was she running away from the terrible car smash, that she, in her innocence, had caused? Or was that simply the last straw in a series of emotional upsets? Theproblem with the highly strung and sensitive Charlotte was that it was impossible to judge her actions.
    Cass drove through Clearbrook and on to the open moor. Slowly, very slowly, she had come to terms with it. She had always lived on the principle of ‘live now, pay later,’ enjoying lighthearted flirtations and affairs while Tom was at sea, suspecting that he was also taking his pleasure where he found it. She had taken risks and chances which had added spice to life, and then payday had arrived. Her lifelong friend Kate Webster, another naval wife whose marriage had finally ended in divorce, had always warned her that it would. It was Cass who had first dubbed it ‘playing Russian roulette’ and Kate who had told her that one day she would get the bullet. But it was Charlotte who had got the bullet: serious, quiet little Charlotte who had adored her father and loved her smaller brothers and sister and who had been terrified that Cass’s infidelities might lead to trouble and break up the family. She had got the bullet meant for Cass.
    For both Cass and Tom it was not just the death of their daughter that they had to come to terms with but their own guilt. During the appalling days and weeks after the funeral they had attempted to comfort each other whilst remorse and shame hammered away at the back of their minds. If Tom hadn’t been with Harriet, if Cass hadn’t been with Nick, would things have been different?
    For Tom, the Falklands War had come at exactly the right moment and he had become deeply involved in strategic planning, relieved to have something else to distract his mind. Cass was thankful, too. Occasionally, overwhelmed by guilt and misery, Tom had tried to push the weight of it on to her. Cass held her own but, understanding his pain and what drove him to try to blame her, she also held her peace and did not question him in turn. She knew very well that he had been with Harriet but could see no future in their tearing each other to shreds. And, after all, it was she who had pushed him into Harriet’s ready arms, hoping to hide her own affair with Nick. The blame was hers and she took it to herself and attemptedto deal with it. She spent as much time as she could with her other three children and, by the end of the war, time had played its part in healing all of them to the extent that they could start again.
    There were still anguished moments, agonised feelings of loss, but at least now, more than three years on, they were able to cope with that loss and with each other and they had once again picked up the threads of their lives together. Life went on.
    Cass drove into the station and looked for Tom. He was waiting outside the plate-glass doors and he raised his hand as he saw her approach. Cass pulled in and watched him hurry across the road to her. It was still a little odd to see him in his London suit instead of naval uniform. The last few years had added lines to his face and grey to his brown hair, which was as thick as ever, but today there was something different about his demeanour, the way he walked and the expression on his face, and Cass looked at him expectantly as he got into the passenger’s seat. He leaned across to give her the customary peck on the cheek and they exchanged the usual greetings.
    â€˜Good week?’
    â€˜Not too bad. You?’
    â€˜Fine. Train’s on time for a change.’
    Cass headed for Tavistock and waited.
    â€˜I’ve got some amazing news. You’ll never