Snow Going Back

Chapter 3

THREE

The fortnight following the wedding passed in a blur. At least it did for those who hadn’t been relaxing on a beach in the Bahamas sending photos of delicious-looking cocktails and perfect sunsets to everyone back home in a cold, grey and drizzly London.

Kate yawned as she leaned back against the passenger-seat headrest of Lance’s car, feeling drained after a whole week of working all day and night into the early hours. She’d barely caught four hours of sleep the night before – two the one before that. All she wanted to do now that she’d made it to the weekend was turn off her phone, draw all the curtains, lock the door and fall into a deep uninterruptable sleep. But that wasn’t an option today. Instead, they were now en route to her parents’ house in the country for the afternoon. These visits were a monthly arrangement. They gave Kate the chance to catch up with her parents properly, and for the most part, to Kate’s relief, it had stopped Eleanor turning up unannounced at her flat in London whenever she felt like it.

As the sharp, greyscale lines of the city made way for the countryside’s frost-kissed hedges and hills, Kate closed her eyes – just for a moment. But when she reopened them what felt like a second later, Lance was suddenly turning into the quaint Cotswold village she’d grown up in.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ she exclaimed, realising she must have slept for the entire journey. She felt a flood of guilt at being such terrible company on the long drive.

‘Don’t be,’ Lance replied. ‘You looked like you needed it. I didn’t want to wake you.’

‘Thanks,’ Kate replied.

‘What time did you leave the office last night?’ he asked.

Kate blew a long breath out through her cheeks. ‘I think it was about three,’ she said. ‘I don’t know.’

Lance frowned. ‘What’s complicated things?’

‘OK, so, the client wanted to sell off what is, effectively, a failing arm of their company,’ Kate explained. ‘They split it up into smaller pieces to sell off separately, to make it look more appealing.’

‘ Is it?’ Lance queried.

Kate shrugged. ‘I guess. Less of a loss showing in the financials of each smaller piece, but it’s still exactly the same. Nothing was hidden though, so that was fine. It meant more complex contracts, and many more of them, of course, but again, this was still all fine.’

‘So what wasn’t fine?’ Lance asked.

‘The amendments they made to my contracts and all the unstoppable wheels they set in motion too early, in the hope they could push some dirty details through each one without me noticing,’ she replied with clear annoyance. ‘It’s been pure crisis management all week with an almost impossible deadline.’ She rubbed her forehead, feeling stressed.

‘ Seriously ?’ Lance replied in surprise. ‘How on earth did they come to the conclusion that they could hide details in a legal contract from their own contract lawyer?’

She shrugged and pursed her lips, glaring out of the window as the reminder of what they’d tried to do made something inside her bubble irritatedly once more.

Kate was a senior associate at her law firm, her speciality international contract law. Unlike Lance – who was used to sudden case dramatics, being a criminal defence lawyer at a firm across the city – she very rarely needed to enter this level of crisis mode. And had this crisis been a genuine one, due to a mistake or unforeseen circumstance, she wouldn’t have minded so much. But she bitterly resented this particular case and the clients responsible now because they’d caused this mess knowingly, and in an attempt to screw other people over for money they’d neither earned nor deserved.

And it wasn’t just the clients they would have screwed over for it, either. They’d also been about to screw her . They’d tampered with her documents, which, if she hadn’t caught it, could have landed her in real trouble. If it wasn’t for the impact it could have on herself, she’d have dropped them immediately and left them to figure out their own mess. But as it stood, she had no choice but to pull them all through it, then she could drop them afterwards. Ideally off the edge of a really high cliff , she thought bitterly. It was clients like those that made her hate her job some days.

With a sigh, Kate checked herself over in the mirror and tried to rub some life back into her pale skin, then pulled her loose wavy hair forward to better frame her face and trail down the front of her cream cable-knit jumper.

‘Don’t worry – you look fine. Eleanor will never know you’ve indulged in a nap.’ He shot her a grin, a teasing twinkle in his eye.

‘You underestimate my mother,’ Kate replied with a wry smile.

She looked out of the window at the familiar sight of the yellow stone cottages and the higgledy-piggledy stone walls edging their front gardens, her mind still worriedly circling everything that was still waiting for her to pick back up on Monday. Maybe she’d try and get a few hours in tomorrow, after she’d caught up on some sleep.

As Lance rounded the corner that led to her childhood home, Kate pulled on her cream beret and gathered her things.

‘It really is beautiful all year round here, isn’t it?’ Lance remarked. ‘It must have been a great place to grow up.’

‘Mm,’ Kate replied noncommittally. She hadn’t been the biggest fan of the place as a child.

‘I could definitely live here,’ he continued, swinging onto the wide gravel drive at the front of the house.

Kate blinked in surprise. ‘Really?’

‘Swap the view of city skyscrapers for cultured countryside? Absolutely,’ he replied. He parked between her parents’ cars and cut the engine. ‘I mean this is exactly the sort of place you aim to settle down in, isn’t it?’

The front door opened and Eleanor leaned out, waving excitedly. Lance waved back and got out of the car, and after a moment, Kate followed suit, pursing her lips and choosing not to answer that question. She personally couldn’t think of anything worse than living back here. A childhood full of mundane community tea parties, neighbourly one-upmanship and intense focus on lawn and plant care had put her firmly off that particular idea.

‘ Darling .’ Eleanor held out her arms and pulled Kate in for a hug.

‘Hi, Mum,’ Kate replied.

Eleanor stepped back and held her at arm’s length. ‘Let’s take a look at you.’

Kate waited, resignedly, to discover what her mother disapproved of today, but after a short silence Eleanor simply smiled.

‘As beautiful as ever,’ she chirped. ‘Have you done something new with your hair? I love it!’

Without waiting for an answer, Eleanor grabbed Lance’s arm and ushered him inside.

Kate frowned and followed them, feeling unnerved. The last time Eleanor complimented her so unconditionally, she’d gone on to tell her the family dog had died. But there were no more pets in the house.

Suddenly her eyes flew wide and she sped up. ‘ Dad ?’

Ten minutes later, Kate sipped on her lukewarm tea and watched her parents warily over the rim of the delicate bone-china cup that her mother usually guarded against the use of with her life. The tea set was Eleanor’s pride and joy, kept only for important visitors, such as the vicar, or the Queen.

‘Another Chocolate Oliver, Lance?’ Eleanor asked, holding out the plate of dark-chocolate-coated biscuits.

‘Oh, er, no, thank you.’ Lance smiled tightly.

‘Oh. Don’t you like them?’ Eleanor looked disappointed.

Kate and Henry exchanged a private look, and Kate had to bite her inner cheek to hold back a grin. No one in their house actually liked them – her mother included, not that she’d admit it – but after reading an article in Hello! magazine that it was the Queen’s favourite biscuit, she’d insisted on serving it to anyone who visited.

‘They’re lovely,’ Lance lied, ‘I just need to watch the old waistline.’

‘Of course,’ Eleanor replied, placing the plate back on the table. ‘Your dedication to keeping yourself fit is admirable, Lance. If only everyone possessed such discipline.’ She turned and swept her gaze pointedly over her husband.

Henry, who’d been carefully guiding a sugar lump between the bowl and his cup with the tongs, glanced at his wife with a slight pause, then dropped it in and began to stir with a defiant smile. Kate had to turn away this time as Eleanor’s face twitched with irritation.

‘How’s work going, Kate?’ Henry asked. ‘Much going on?’

‘Oh, let’s not talk shop today, Henry. It’s Saturday,’ Eleanor said quickly.

Kate looked at her, surprised. Eleanor usually loved to talk about her work. The fact her only daughter was a successful lawyer was her favourite bragging right. She also usually enjoyed offering her detailed opinion on what Kate should have done on a case, as though she were a retired law oracle and not a suburban housewife whose only flirtation with work had been a stint selling Avon to the neighbours.

Eleanor stared at Henry, holding his gaze a fraction of a second too long.

‘Yes, I guess you’re right,’ he said. ‘There’s more to life than work.’

Kate frowned. Something was definitely off here today. But what ?

‘You OK, Dad?’ she asked.

Henry shot her a quick smile. ‘’Course. Did I tell you I finally finished the rockery down by your cherry trees?’

‘No, you didn’t. That’s great,’ she replied, frowning suspiciously.

Lance stood up and stretched. ‘I think I need some fresh air after that drive, you know,’ he said. ‘I might wander down and take a look at it, Henry.’

‘Sure.’ Henry shrugged and picked up his tea.

‘Oh, you should. The centrepiece is quite spectacular ,’ Eleanor enthused.

‘I’ll join you,’ Kate said, standing up. ‘I’ll grab our coats.’

‘No, no! You sit there, darling. I’ll grab them,’ Eleanor insisted. She jumped up and swept past them, out into the hallway.

‘What is with her today?’ Kate whispered, directing the question at her father as soon as Eleanor was out of earshot.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

‘What do you mean what do I mean ?’ she replied, glancing at the door. ‘The tea set, offering to get my coat – she even told me my hair looked nice .’ Her voice dropped to an urgent hiss. ‘The last time she complimented my hair, someone died .’

‘Someone died ?’ Lance’s eyes widened.

‘No one died,’ Henry said in a flat tone.

‘ Pippi died,’ Kate countered stubbornly.

‘Who’s Pippi?’ Lance asked.

‘Pippi was the dog. She’s being dramatic, Lance,’ Henry replied.

‘Dad, you’re sure there’s nothing you need to tell me? You’re not dying are you?’ Kate checked.

Henry sighed. ‘Kate, other than the unavoidable oxidisation process we call aging, and the chronic neck pain also known as Eleanor, I assure you I’m as healthy as a horse.’ He topped up his tea and dropped in another lump of sugar. ‘And your mother is still complaining daily about every ache and pain under the sun, so she’s absolutely fine, too. It’s when she goes quiet that we’ll need to worry.’

He glanced at Kate with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and she couldn’t help but grin.

Eleanor breezed back in with an armful of coats.

‘Here we are,’ she said in a singsong voice. She handed everything out and sat back down. ‘Just go out here. No need to go all the way round.’ She gestured to the French doors.

Kate pulled on her long grey coat and her scarf and hat, still eying her father, but his attention was firmly on the tea. She moved her gaze over to her mother, but Eleanor turned away and walked to the window. Kate’s frown deepened. She was sure her mother was avoiding eye contact.

‘Shall we?’ Lance put a hand on her back, gently moving her towards the door.

Kate bit her lip, resigning herself to a pause, and her stomach turned uneasily as she stepped outside into the late autumn chill. There was definitely something strange going on.

But what was it? And why were they so intent on hiding it from her?