First Impressions Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  A Selection of Recent Titles by Margaret Thornton

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A Selection of Recent Titles by Margaret Thornton

  ABOVE THE BRIGHT BLUE SKY

  DOWN AN ENGLISH LANE

  A TRUE LOVE OF MINE

  REMEMBER ME

  UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

  TIME GOES BY

  CAST THE FIRST STONE *

  FAMILIES AND FRIENDSHIPS *

  OLD FRIENDS, NEW FRIENDS *

  FIRST IMPRESSIONS *

  * available from Severn House

  FIRST IMPRESSIONS

  Margaret Thornton

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  This first world edition published 2014

  in Great Britain and 2015 in the USA by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of

  19 Cedar Road, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM2 5DA.

  Trade paperback edition first published

  in Great Britain and the USA 2015 by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD.

  eBook edition first published in 2015 by Severn House Digital

  an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited

  Copyright © 2014 by Margaret Thornton.

  The right of Margaret Thornton to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Thornton, Margaret, 1934- author.

  First Impressions.

  1. Widows–Fiction. 2. Vacations–Germany–Black

  Forest–Fiction. 3. Bus travel–Fiction. 4. Love stories.

  I. Title

  823.9’14-dc23

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8472-5 (cased)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-575-9 (trade paper)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-621-2 (e-book)

  Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.

  This ebook produced by

  Palimpsest Book Production Limited, Falkirk,

  Stirlingshire, Scotland.

  One

  Jane Redfern leaned back in her seat as the coach pulled away from the depot just outside Preston. The seat next to her was empty at the moment, and she couldn’t help hoping that it would remain so. She knew, however, that that was not very likely. Most probably every seat would be booked for this popular coach tour to the Black Forest in Germany.

  Don’t be so faint-hearted! Jane rebuked herself. She had come on this holiday for a change of scenery and a well-earned rest, and, so her friends had assured her, for a chance to meet interesting people. As they headed south along the motorway the driver broke into her wandering thoughts.

  ‘Good morning, everyone. My name is Mike, and I’m your driver for the next ten days. So let’s start by saying hello, shall we? Good morning, everyone …’

  There was a feeble reply from the passengers. ‘Good morning …’

  Some added, ‘… Mike.’

  ‘Now, that won’t do at all, will it?’ the driver rejoined. ‘Let’s sound as though we mean it. Good morning, everyone …’ His voice was louder this time.

  The reply from the passengers was louder too, and Jane made herself join in the greeting. She was hoping, though, that Mike wouldn’t turn out to be one of those larger than life chaps, forcing everyone to join in and have a jolly good time. It wasn’t that she was averse to mixing with people, but she liked it to be on her own terms.

  ‘That’s much better!’ said Mike. ‘Now, I’ll leave you alone for a while to catch up on your sleep if you like, or to have a natter. We’ll be picking up the rest of our passengers at our depot in the Midlands, that’ll be in a couple of hours, so I’ll leave you in peace till then.’

  Jane tried to relax. She opened her copy of Woman’s Own but her mind would not settle to reading a romantic story or details of people’s problems. She had problems of her own, but nothing like the lurid tales that were to be found here; stories of infidelity and double-dealing and wayward children. And some even more personal than those, if you could believe the half of it!

  She turned to the fashion page. For the summer of 2005 skirts were still short, but if you had worn a miniskirt back in the nineteen seventies maybe you were too old to wear one again. Jane had been a teenager then and had worn miniskirts when she was not in school uniform. Now, at the age of forty-five, she felt she was unable to wear very short skirts, but she had bought a couple of new dresses for her holiday, with hemlines that were rather more modest, just above the knee. Most of the time, though, she wore trousers and jumpers, or what they now called ‘tops’, which covered a wide variety of garments: blouses, sweaters, T-shirts, tunics – they were all known as tops. Colours were vibrant again this year: raspberry pink, acid yellow, lime green … Jane favoured bright colours as a rule as her complexion was pale, and her dark hair and brown eyes were enhanced by more glowing shades, or so her friends had told her. Left to herself she was not inclined to be an avid follower of fashion. Not any more …

  She closed her magazine. Her thoughts kept straying to her mother whom she had left behind the previous day in a retirement home on the outskirts of the town. It had taken a great deal of persuasion for her mother to agree to this measure. Indeed, Jane herself had been loath to take such a step, but her friends had insisted that she was badly in need of a break, and surely her mother would not object, ‘just for a week or ten days?’

  Jane had agreed that she did need a rest and a break from routine. She had suffered from a nasty attack of flu during the winter and had never really regained her strength. She was working almost full time as well as running her home and caring for her mother. When she had first broached the subject of the rest home her mother had been adamant that she would not go into what she called ‘one of those old folks’ homes’.

  ‘Not on your life!’ Alice Rigby had retorted. ‘I’m not going to one of those places where they sit around like zombies all day, staring at the telly. I may be getting on a bit, Jane, but I’ve still got all my marbles.’

  ‘But it isn’t like that at the place I’ve found, Mother.’ Jane had visited the few homes that had been recommended to her and had found one that she considered very suitable. ‘It’s called ‘Evergreen’, and it’s more like a hotel than a rest home. You’d have your own private room – en suite – and your own TV, although there’s a large one in the lounge as well that the residents like to watch together. They all seeme
d very nice and friendly.’

  ‘And why are they there, eh? Tell me that. Because their children can’t be bothered to look after them, that’s why.’

  ‘I don’t know, Mother! I don’t know their life histories, do I?’

  Jane couldn’t help feeling a little exasperated. Her mother was enough to try the patience of a saint at times. And Jane knew that she wasn’t a saint although she did do her best. She and her mother had never got along all that well. Even as a child Jane had felt that her mother was overcritical of her, unwilling to give her too much praise for her achievements. She always felt that Mother would have preferred to have had a son, but her parents had been blessed with just the one child.

  Jane’s father, Joe Rigby, had adored his little girl and had done his best to ease the tension that often built up between his two womenfolk. When Joe had died, some eight years ago, Jane had felt as though she had lost a friend and ally as well as a father. Fortunately, though, she was happily married by that time to Tom Redfern. They had both been in their early thirties when they married and they had had no children. They would have liked to have had a family, but no children had come along. Rather than having tests to discover why, they had decided they were very happy as they were. And adoption had never been considered. When Alice had started to suffer with osteoarthritis a year after her husband’s death, Jane had persuaded her, eventually, to sell her home and go to live with them.

  It was lucky that Tom was easy-going and bore with the often difficult elderly lady. But it was a devastating blow to Jane when, two years ago, Tom died after an attack of bronchitis that had turned to pneumonia. The two women were left alone together and had to get along as well as they could. It was far from easy at times, and Jane knew that her mother would benefit from a change of company just as much as she would.

  ‘It would only be for ten days, Mother,’ Jane had told her, ‘while I have a holiday, and I’m sure you’d enjoy it. It’s a big old house that’s been modernized, and there’s a lovely garden at the back where you can sit and relax. And a games room …’

  ‘I can’t see myself playing ping-pong!’ retorted Alice.

  ‘Not those sort of games, Mother! They were playing cards, and dominoes, and some of them were doing a big jigsaw puzzle.’

  ‘Huh! Jigsaws! Those are for kids.’

  Jane sighed. ‘Well, I’ve done my best. You said yourself that I needed a break, didn’t you? And it would be a nice change for you as well.’

  Alice didn’t answer for a moment. Then, ‘Well, I suppose I might give it a try,’ she admitted. ‘And where are you thinking of gadding off to on this holiday?’

  Jane had already made a provisional booking with the travel company, crossing her fingers that her mother would eventually see reason. ‘It’s a little trip abroad, Mother, with the Galaxy Travel company; to France and then on to Germany.’

  ‘Germany!’ Alice stared at her in amazement. ‘Why in heaven’s name do you want to go to Germany? They were our enemies not so long ago. Don’t you remember?’

  ‘That was years ago, Mother. And of course I don’t remember. How could I? I wasn’t even born then. And people don’t think like that any more. We’re all in the EU now, aren’t we?’

  ‘And the least said about that the better,’ Alice muttered.

  Jane went on as though she hadn’t heard her. ‘Well, that’s where I intend to go. From what I’ve heard Germany is a beautiful country. The hotel is in a village in the Black Forest, and we’ll be travelling through the Rhine valley as well.’

  But Alice was still way back in the past. ‘Your father did his best for King and Country in the war. He was in the D-Day landings. I didn’t know him then, of course, but he told me enough about it. He never had any time for the Germans. I’m sure I don’t know what he would have thought about it, you going hobnobbing with the folks he was fighting against.’

  Jane felt that her father would have told her to go and enjoy herself. Like many of the men who had served in the Second World War, Joe Rigby had not wished to relive his experiences. There were many who did so, looking back with pride and nostalgia to their glory days, and going off each year to reunions. But Joe had taken up a new career on leaving the army, looking to the future and not back to the past. Jane believed his policy had been to live and let live, despite what his widow was saying.

  ‘It’s all history, Mother,’ Jane had told her. ‘So … are you willing to give it a try in this place I’ve found? I want you to be very sure about it,’ she added.

  ‘I’m as sure as I’ll ever be,’ said Alice, with an exaggerated sigh. ‘You go ahead and do as you please. I know I’ll have no peace if I don’t agree.’

  ‘Thank you, Mother,’ Jane said quietly. She had confirmed the reservation the next day, and for the last two months had been looking forward to her trip abroad.

  She had been abroad before, but only twice. The first time had been on a school trip to France when she was fifteen years old. The group of twelve fifth-formers had stayed at the homes of their penfriends in the town of Rouen. It had been Jane’s father who had persuaded her mother that it would be good for Jane to go, and because her dad had been keen she had gone along with the idea. She had been homesick, though, for some of the time and had found everything very strange. She and her penfriend, Adele, had got on reasonably well, though, and Jane had learnt to speak French quite fluently after furthering her study of the language when she got back to school.

  She and her husband, Tom, had spent their honeymoon in Paris; a wonderful five days that she looked back on with poignant nostalgia. Since that one time they had holidayed in the UK, touring Scotland, the Yorkshire Dales or the Cotswolds in their own car. They had both been drivers, and Jane still used the car for work and for ferrying her mother around. She had never wanted to go touring alone, and although she had several friends, some of them close ones, they were all happily married.

  After a couple of hours the coach pulled up at the depot in the Midlands.

  ‘We’ll stop here for forty minutes,’ said Mike. ‘It’s a comfort stop, so make use of the facilities, and have a quick cup of tea or coffee, if you wish. We’ll be picking up the rest of our passengers here. Then we have one more stop for lunch in another two hours or so, and after that it’s full steam ahead for Dover. OK, ladies and gents, see you in a little while …’

  Jane made use of the facilities, as suggested. There was a toilet at the back of the coach, which seemed to be obligatory now, but the majority of passengers preferred not to use it. Jane had a fear of opening the wrong door and ending up on the motorway! She paid an exorbitant price for a polystyrene beaker of coffee, had a look round WH Smith’s, then it was time to return to the coach.

  She noticed as soon as she stepped aboard that there was now someone sitting in the seat next to hers, halfway down the coach. And it was a man! She felt her heart plummet to the soles of her new summer shoes. She had been hoping that it might be a woman of around her own age, with whom she could form a friendship, if only for the duration of the holiday.

  It wasn’t that she disliked men. She had been happily married, and she got along well enough with the men she met in the course of her work and with her friends’ husbands. But she found herself ill at ease and a little tongue-tied when she was with men she didn’t know. For the past year, by which time her friends had thought she might be glad of some male company, she had been subjected to various attempts at matchmaking. Several times she had been asked to go to supper parties, and had found herself sitting next to a man who, also, was without a current partner. To her friends’ disappointment, nothing had come of these attempts. They did not seem to realize that she was content on her own, for the time being at least. She still missed Tom very much and had never felt the need for exclusive male friendship. She could never feel for anyone else what she had felt for Tom.

  At first glance she saw a man whom she guessed to be around her own age, very spruce and efficient-looking with sleek dar
k hair. She could not judge his height as he was sitting down, but he stood as he saw her approaching, rather diffidently, although she was trying to summon up her courage. He was of medium height, as she was, and of a slim athletic build.

  She smiled, unsurely, and he nodded at her, his lips curving just a little. He stood to one side to allow her to pass. ‘Yours is the window seat, I believe,’ he said.

  ‘Er … yes; I think so,’ she faltered. ‘That’s where I was sitting, but I don’t mind. You can sit by the window if you like.’

  He smiled then, as though he was amused. ‘Well, we’re not going to fall out about it, are we? I only booked a couple of weeks ago, so I’m sure the seat is yours. I thought I was lucky to get a place at all as I’d left it so late.’

  They both sat down, then Jane decided she would take off her jacket. The weather was improving now, it had been cloudy in the early morning when she had left home and it had looked as though it might rain. It had been an unsettled month so far, but now, by mid-June, everyone was hoping that the summer would eventually arrive. The clouds had dispersed and the sun was shining now.

  ‘Shall I put that up on the rack for you?’ her travelling companion asked as she shuffled out of her jacket.

  ‘Oh, thank you, that’s very kind,’ she replied. It was more of a cupboard than a rack over each seat where smaller belongings could be stored.

  They had not yet introduced themselves, and Jane was wondering whether to make the first move when the driver came down the coach counting heads.

  ‘All present and correct,’ Mike said as he sat down behind the wheel. ‘Thanks for getting back on time. If you continue to do that it will make life much easier for us drivers. I’ve got my mate with me now to assist with the driving. This is Bill …’