Free Blue Smoke by Deborah Challinor Page A

mortgage the house to meet my debts. If this money hadn’t come from Thomas we would have been out in the street.’ Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, ‘And I’m being black mailed by Roland Peacocke at the bank.’
    A silence ensued, into which the ticking of the clock over the fireplace expanded until James thought his head might explode.
    ‘Then all I can say is it’s lucky your mother is paying the children’s school fees, isn’t it?’
    He stared at his wife, his face a picture of confusion. ‘Lucy, did you hear what I just said?’
    ‘Yes, James, I heard. We’ve no money left whatsoever and ourhouse is currently owned by the bank.’
    ‘But, aren’t you … I thought when I told you, you’d …’ He trailed off.
    ‘Yes, I might have, if I hadn’t known. But I did know, James. I’ve known for the last three months. About the mortgage any way. You shouldn’t leave important documents lying around in your desk drawers.’
    ‘But that drawer was locked!’
    ‘It came open one day when I was dusting in here.’
    ‘You went through my private papers?’ James, momentarily forgetting the magnitude of his own sins, was outraged.
    ‘You mortgaged our home,’ Lucy responded quietly.
    He flushed deeply, unable to meet her eyes. Instead, he handed her the cheque. ‘Take it. Go into the bank tomorrow and have the mortgage discharged.’
    She took the cheque, put it to one side and read the note.
    Moments later she looked up and regarded him steadily. ‘No, you take it, James. Do you trust yourself?’
    ‘Do you?’
    ‘That’s irrelevant at the moment. You go and discharge the mortgage, then you go to each and every person to whom you owe money, and pay them back.’
    James began to grin then, the real, genuine sort of smile he could barely remember. Whether she trusted him or not — and he certainly didn’t blame her if she didn’t — she was giving him the opportunity to salvage at least a shred of his dignity. ‘Yes, I could, couldn’t I? In fact,’ he added excitedly, ‘I could …’
    ‘You could what, James?’
     
    James didn’t go into the bank the following morning. Instead, he drove out to Kenmore — at a rather reckless speed — to talk to hismother. At first she wouldn’t see him, but in the end, James went thumping up the stairs and barged into her bedroom, where she was reclining on her chaise longue pretending to read a book. She sat up quickly as he appeared breathlessly at the door, but after a single glance at the wide smile and buoyant expression on her son’s handsome face she knew immediately that something had changed.
    ‘I have to talk to you, Mam, please,’ he blurted, before she had a chance to say anything herself. Then he went very red.
    She nodded her agreement and listened as he stood shame-facedly in front of her, like the small boy he had once been, and delivered a litany of his more recent misdemeanours — unvarnished and with not even the smallest unsavoury detail left out. She was so relieved at his apparent willingness to at last speak openly and honestly that she didn’t even reprimand him for his appalling behaviour and staggering lack of sense.
    When he’d finished, he sat down on the edge of the big bed his parents had shared all their married life. ‘So that’s it, Mam, all of it. I’m so sorry, and I’m especially sorry for trying to coerce you into that business with the New Zealand Legion. I really believed I had no choice, but that’s no excuse. It was an awful thing to do to you. I know it upset you.’
    Tamar nodded her acceptance of his apology. ‘And what does Lucy say about all of this?’
    James looked uncomfortable again. ‘Well, that’s sort of what I’ve come out to talk to you about.’
    Tamar’s heart sank. ‘She’s not left you, has she?’
    ‘Left me? No, thank God, because I imagine plenty of women would. No, I think she’s relieved.’
    ‘Relieved?’
    ‘Because now she knows exactly what’s been going