by Mike Gayle
Everyone in the room turned their attention back to Ashleigh, and overwhelmed with self-consciousness, she coughed and took a sip from the glass of water on the coffee table in front of her.
“What’s the holdup anyway?” asked Tony. “And where’s Hubert?”
“He’s not poorly, is he?” asked Maude. “I had the most terrible diarrhea last week, kept me running to the loo two days straight. I’m better now but at the time it was awful. Is it something like that Hubert’s got?”
Ashleigh shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Maude. I’m afraid Hubert’s not himself at the moment: he was burgled a few weeks ago.”
A chorus of gasps and tuts rippled around the room.
“Poor Mr. Hubert!” exclaimed Emils. “Is he all right? Was he hurt?”
“Stealing from a pensioner!” cried Maude. “When they catch the culprits, they should string them up!”
“It’s a terrible world we live in,” said Randip. “Just the other week a ninety-six-year-old lady was mugged for her handbag just around the corner from me. They pulled the poor dear to the floor and she broke her hip.”
“Well, I’m pleased to say that Hubert wasn’t physically hurt, as thankfully he wasn’t home at the time, but I can’t lie, it’s really knocked him for six and I’m afraid he’s decided to step down as president of our committee.”
“But he was such a marvelous spokesperson,” said Fiona.
“Plus, he’s the face of our campaign,” said Tony.
Emils raised his hand as if he were in school. “We should go and visit Mr. Hubert right now and tell him how much we need him.”
“Austerity Britain,” said Tony dolefully, “that’s what’s caused this. Universal credit and police cuts equals chaos!”
Pointedly ignoring Tony’s remark, Maude called across the room to an unusually quiet Jan.
“You’re close with Hubert. Can’t you talk him round? We really need him.”
Jan shook her head sadly.
“I’ve tried visiting, calling, and even dropped a note through his door, but I’ve heard nothing.”
“Me too,” said Ashleigh. “At first I was hoping he might get over it in a week or two, which is why I delayed this meeting, but I really don’t think he’s going to change his mind. The last thing he said to me was that he just wanted to be left alone.”
Ashleigh still couldn’t shake the image of Hubert that day. She’d bumped into him in the morning on his way out with Jan and he’d been his usual self—laughing, joking, full of life, looking years younger than his actual age. But that night in his hallway, as he’d made it clear he didn’t want her there anymore or to continue to be part of the committee, he’d seemed the opposite: old, frail, lost, and lonely.
She felt terrible. This was all her fault. Pushing her way into his life, pushing him to start the campaign, to lead the committee, to appear on the radio and TV. She had meant it for the best, hoping that he might see in himself what she’d seen in him that first day, despite his efforts to keep it hidden: a kindness, a spirit of adventure, a strength. But she’d gone too far, asked too much of him, and this was the result.
She had tried to see him the following morning, but although she’d rung the doorbell several times and even spotted the unmistakable outline of her old friend lurking behind the net curtain, he wouldn’t answer the door. Calling Jan to let her know about the burglary, Ashleigh had then enlisted her help and the two went round again that same afternoon and evening. Each time, however, Hubert ignored them, just as he went on to do every day of the week that followed.
Growing increasingly concerned but feeling unable to share the real reason for fear of breaking Hubert’s confidence, Ashleigh had even considered calling the police, but then one day, on the way home from work, she’d spotted him halfway down the road, laden with shopping bags. Even from a distance he seemed different, his shoulders stooped, his gait shuffling, all of which added to the impression of a broken old man. Desperate to talk to him, Ashleigh had called out his name, but his only reaction was to dip his head down and increase his pace until, changing direction, he disappeared from view through his front gate. She’d been shocked by how much it had hurt, and she hadn’t felt right since. She’d thought they’d be friends forever.
“So, what are we going to do now?” asked Maude. “Carry on or give up?”
Ashleigh cast a glance around the room, its air thick with the defeat and dejection of its occupants. She’d been dreading the prospect of this meeting all morning but there were things that needed to be said, decisions that needed to be made.
“Well, that’s actually one of the reasons why I called this meeting,” said Ashleigh. “The fact is I couldn’t have done any of this without Hubert, and with him not being here, my heart’s just not in it.”
“So you want to call the whole thing off?”
Ashleigh shook her head. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“So, what are you saying?” asked Fiona.
Ashleigh sighed. “That I don’t want to do this without Hubert.”
There was a long silence while everybody considered her words and then finally Jan spoke up. “But what about all the lonely people?” she said. “What about all the people who need us? No one misses Hubert more than me, but his not being here is all the more reason for us not to give up, for you not to give up, Ash. People like Hubert—the ones who have been let down by life and feel like giving up—are the very ones who need this most.”
Randip nodded.
“Jan’s right, our campaign has really captured people’s imaginations. Just last week I heard two people talking about it in the vet’s saying what a good idea it was. And those two people didn’t know each other, so it’s already sort of working. It would be a shame to give up now.”
Emils raised his hand.
“Ashleigh, our Facebook has sixteen thousand likes, our Twitter, twenty-five thousand, and our GoFundMe page is now six thousand pounds over the ten-thousand-pound target we set. People really want this… they really need this.”
“It’s true,” said Fiona. “Since your meeting with Martin Pemberton, not a single day has gone by when someone hasn’t contacted us with either promises of support or donations for the launch day. I think that as much as we’ll miss Hubert, we’ve come too far to give up now, and I think more than ever we need strong leadership, the kind that only you can give, Ashleigh.”
“But that’s just it,” said Ashleigh. “I’m not strong. I’m not confident. If I’m honest, I’m a complete mess. You should’ve seen me the night I first moved to Bromley, sobbing into my pillow like a baby all night, wondering what the heck I’d been thinking moving myself and Layla so far from the places and the people that we knew, I—” She stopped, suddenly overwhelmed, not only by what she was saying but also by the fact that just an hour ago she’d made up her mind to step down from the committee. It hurt too much to think of doing it without Hubert. Carrying on without him seemed like an impossible task and now they were asking her to take his place. She wasn’t anything special; she wasn’t clever like Fiona and Tony, creative like Emils, or experienced in life like Maude or Jan. She was just a young single mum who had an idea that Hubert had helped turn into a reality. She couldn’t do it.
“The thing is—”
Tony stood up.
“Before you say anything more, I want to say something. I always thought this mission of yours, while admirable, was too ambitious. I never thought it would get off the ground, that we’d raise any money, get the permissions needed for the launch party in the park, or even get people’s support for what essentially is a crackpot idea. I mean, ending loneliness in Bromley, it’s ridiculous! But credit where it’s due, you not only got this off the ground, you’ve inspired people to believe that it’s actually possible. Even, to be totally honest, an old cynic like me. And for that alone, I think we should carry on and see this through, which is why I’d like to propose a vote. All those in favor of making Ashleigh o
ur new president, raise your hand.”
Without hesitation everyone in the room, with the exception of Ashleigh, raised their hands. Maude even raised two.
“Motion carried,” said Tony. “So what do you say, Ashleigh? Will you be our new president?”
Ashleigh sighed. How could she say no when all of these people were depending on her?
“Fine, I’ll do it, but if we’re really going to pull this off there’s a lot of work we’ve still got to do. So make yourselves comfortable, grab a drink and a biscuit, or nip to the loo if you need it, because this, guys, is going to be one heck of a meeting.”
It was ten o’clock by the time the meeting was finally finished, and over the next hour everyone gradually drifted home, with the exception of Jan, who, even after Emils had offered her a lift, had insisted that she’d stay behind to help Ashleigh clear up. In truth there wasn’t much to do but Ashleigh hadn’t protested, sensing that the real reason for Jan’s reluctance to leave was that she wanted to talk about Hubert.
“There’s something I think you ought to know,” said Jan, her hands knuckle-deep in suds as she washed up dirty coffee cups in the kitchen sink while Ashleigh dried. “About Hubert and me,” she added, her cheeks flushing at the mention of his name.
“Go on, then,” said Ashleigh, wanting to be encouraging while at the same time being aware of Jan’s discomfort.
“It’s my fault Hubert doesn’t want to be on the committee anymore,” she said. “You know that day me and Hubert went to the O-60…”
“Yeah,” encouraged Ashleigh, “what about it?”
“Well… he and I had such a lovely time and we’d met this really lovely couple and… I don’t know… everything felt like it was going so well and we were both in such a good mood that… well… I went and made a right fool of myself.”
“Don’t be daft,” said Ashleigh, “I’m sure you didn’t. What was it exactly that happened?”
Jan’s face went purple.
“I kissed Hubert.”
“You did what?”
Ashleigh nearly dropped the plate she was drying. She set it down on the kitchen counter and put an arm around Jan.
“I’m sorry, Jan,” she said. “I didn’t mean that to come out how it sounded… It’s just… well… wow! You kissed Hubert? How did that come about?”
“We walked home together and it just sort of happened.”
“And he kissed you back?”
“Well, yes… no… I don’t know. It all happened so fast it’s hard to tell. But the thing is, he always made it crystal clear that he wasn’t looking for any romance and I should’ve respected that. Instead I’ve ruined everything and lost one of the nicest friends I’ve ever had.”
Jan started to cry.
“I’m just a stupid, lonely old woman.”
“There, there,” said Ashleigh, comforting Jan. “I promise you, it’s not your fault.”
“But it can’t just be the burglary,” said Jan. “That doesn’t explain why he doesn’t want to see any of us.”
“It’s complicated,” said Ashleigh.
“What?” said Jan. “Do you know something?”
“I can’t say anything,” said Ashleigh. “It’s not my place. But I promise it’s got nothing to do with you.”
Ashleigh could almost see Jan’s mind whirring as she tried to read between the lines.
“Is it to do with his son? Or his daughter? Did they have a row or something?”
Ashleigh bit her lip.
“Jan, I’ve already said too much as it is. Just know that it’s not your fault and to be honest, it’s not Hubert’s either. It’s just one of those things, those terrible things that happen even to the nicest people.”
43
NOW
Hello, stranger.”
Bob stood to greet Jan, then called over to his wife, who was busy making a round of teas at the refreshment table. “Anita, look who it is!”
“Ooh, it’s you, Jan! So lovely to see you! We were beginning to think you and Hubert had eloped after you canceled our lunch date!”
“Speak of the devil,” said Bob, craning his neck to look at the doorway behind Jan, “where is that man of yours?”
Jan felt herself flush.
“He’s not my man… We’re just… we’re just friends.”
“Oh sorry, I was only pulling your leg,” said Bob. “Where is he, though? Nothing wrong, is there?”
Anita carried over the tray of drinks, which she set down on the table.
“Oh, Bob. Stop grilling the poor woman and give her a chance to take her coat off! You have a sit-down, Jan, and I’ll pass you over a tea.”
Jan had only made the decision to come to the O-60 Club about five minutes before she put her jacket on and left the house. Prior to that her plans for the day had consisted of taking down and washing her net curtains, making a salad to eat while watching Loose Women, and then perhaps a visit to the library to exchange the books she’d taken out the week before. Throw in an evening meal consisting of a Weight Watchers salmon and broccoli melt, followed by a night in front of the TV catching up with Coronation Street, Emmerdale, and Grantchester, and that would have been the sum total of her day. And it was this realization, together with the fact that she hadn’t spoken to anyone for three days, that had prompted her to set aside her fears and go back to the O-60.
Her primary fear was that people would ask her about Hubert, as she knew that their questions, no matter how well-intentioned, might upset her. She missed Hubert. She really did. From the moment she woke up to the moment she fell asleep she felt an ever-present heaviness in the pit of her stomach caused, she was certain, by his absence. It seemed ridiculous, given the short time they had known each other, the stuff of teenagers, the melodrama of the TV soaps she loved so much. But this pain that she felt, this discomfort that she carried, wasn’t just a figment of her imagination or part of a desperate desire to make her life more interesting than it was. It was real. And awful.
While she managed to sidestep the issue of Hubert’s absence by telling them that he wasn’t well, explaining away their recent lack of attendance at the O-60 with a vague mention of being away “seeing family,” she ran into trouble when Audrey came across waving a copy of the local free newspaper.
“Where’s the man of the hour? I was hoping to get this signed!” she joked as the newspaper was passed around the small group.
“Jan’s been telling us he’s not well,” said Bob.
“Oh, that’s a shame,” replied Audrey. “He looks a million dollars on here. Look at that cheery grin, it’s enough to put a smile on all our faces!”
Jan shifted uncomfortably in her chair and when the paper was finally passed to her, she had no choice but to sit and stare at the photograph of Hubert, even though she was finding remembering this happy version of him hard to bear. When the paper had told Ashleigh they were running a story about the campaign’s launch day, she had told them specifically not to use photos of Hubert as he was no longer a member of the committee, but they seemed to have decided that he was too good a character to ignore and used one anyway.
Audrey took the paper back from Jan. “Not long to go now until this big launch day of yours. Just under three weeks, isn’t it? You must be very excited.”
Jan stood up.
“Actually, I’m supposed to be at a committee meeting right now. I don’t even know how it slipped my mind. Must be old age, I suppose. So sorry to have to rush off like this.”
“Of course,” said Anita. “It’s important work you’re doing. We’ll certainly be there to support things, won’t we, Bob?”
“Just try and stop us,” said Bob. “And give Hubert our love. Perhaps we’ll see you both at the next O-60 if you’ve got time.”
“Yes,” said Jan, putting on her coat, “if we’ve got time.”
Leaving the community center, Jan walked briskly across the car park so that anyone watching would think she was a woman with somewhere to be.
But the truth was quite the opposite. She didn’t want to go home. She couldn’t go to Hubert’s, and Ashleigh was at work. And much as she liked Maude and the others, she didn’t feel like she knew them well enough to just drop round on the spur of the moment. Anyway, chances were they’d ask her about Hubert just like everyone else.
She thought about walking into town, but there was nothing she wanted there. Then she thought about just hopping on the next bus that passed by and seeing where it took her, but when she reached into her bag, she realized that she’d lost her bus pass somewhere. Ready to give up, to just cry in the street like a madwoman, she spotted a café and decided what she needed right now was a treat. Ducking inside, she joined the short queue at the counter.
“I’ll have a slice of that one there,” she said to the young man at the till, pointing to a magnificent Black Forest gateau that seemed to consist almost entirely of fluffy whipped cream, shards of chocolate, and oozing dark cherry compote. “And a hot chocolate, please.”
“Would that be a regular or large hot chocolate?”
Jan briefly considered her Weight Watchers points.
“Large.”
“And would you like whipped cream and marshmallows too?”
She thought again about her Weight Watchers points, but she’d come too far to go back now.
“Yes, please, the works.”
As the young man handed Jan her change, she had a moment of inspiration. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a pen and a piece of paper I can borrow, have you, please, love?”
The young man searched around behind the till for a moment and then handed her a pencil and a sheet torn from a notebook. “Will this do?”
“Perfect,” she said. “Thank you so much.”
Carefully clutching her tray, Jan picked her way through a forest of chair legs, prams, and errant toddlers to an empty table in the corner of the room. Taking a seat, she placed her items on the table and then slipped the tray onto the empty chair opposite. She considered the cake and hot chocolate, both laden with enough cream to block an artery, but tempted as she was, instead she picked up the pencil and began writing.
