Be Careful What You Wish For

by Vivien Brown

  She fetched her laptop and switched it on. She had a few hours to kill before her cake date at number 3. Paving slabs and lavender plants and the future of the garden could wait. There was something else she needed to do before she chickened out again. And that was to start planning her own future.

  She couldn’t waste any more of her life snapping prize vegetables and hanging around taking pictures at weddings, let alone dreaming about her own. It was time she took this thing seriously, developed her skills, her knowledge, her art.

  She brought Google up on the screen, then started to type into the search box. Photography courses. She only hesitated for a moment before adding one more word. London.

  Chapter 25

  MADI

  Madi and Tom sat down in Prue’s kitchen with Donny and a couple of his mates after school on Wednesday, and started to make plans for the stage show.

  ‘Don’t they do any of this at that school of yours?’ Tom asked. ‘Drama lessons, end-of-term performances, that sort of thing?’

  Donny raised his eyes and let out a big sigh. ‘I wish! No, drama is all Shakespeare at the moment. They’re holding auditions for Romeo and Juliet, but I can’t see me in those old tights, talking in a language I don’t even understand.’

  ‘You should give dear old Will a chance,’ Madi said. ‘He tells a good story. And the language is actually quite beautiful once you really listen to it, and funny sometimes too.’ She had always loved Shakespeare, but she had to admit it wasn’t to everyone’s taste. She blamed it on the teaching. Thank God she’d had a wonderful English teacher, bursting with enthusiasm and fire. Mr Shearn, probably long dead by now, but she knew she would never have become an actress if not for the seeds he had planted in her imagination and his dogged determination to push her to succeed.

  ‘And the only concerts they want us to put on are piano recitals and horrible screechy stuff from the kids learning the violin,’ Donny went on, ‘or the choir doing hymns and some old Messiah thing.’

  ‘Not quite what you had in mind?’ Tom smiled as all three boys shook their heads vigorously.

  ‘Right then. Let’s make a list, shall we? What sort of things you want to do, how many performers, what props you might need, whose parents we can count on to help backstage … and a date, of course. We must pick a date and book the hall. Not just for the show but for the rehearsals too. I would suggest twice a week to start with, but we may need a few more nearer the day. How does eight weeks sound? Enough, do you think? So, the performance in May sometime? Or maybe we could do two nights, if there’s enough interest. And tickets … how many should we print? And what sort of entry price should we charge?’

  Madi could see Donny’s eyes light up as if to say ‘Wow! This is really happening.’

  ‘So, get some sort of first auditions cum rehearsal scheduled then, shall we? Get all your young friends together and find out who’s up for getting involved.’ Tom’s pen was flying over the paper in his notepad. ‘How about next week? Say Wednesday or Thursday?’

  ‘Couldn’t we make it Monday? Or Saturday even? We could work at it for longer then, rather than after school.’

  ‘Well, you’re keen! Fine by me though. A bit short notice, but if you think they’ll come. I’ll see if we can book the hall.’

  ‘Not bad for someone worried about having no theatrical experience,’ Madi said, after the boys had gone. ‘I thought you said you wouldn’t know where to start.’

  Tom grinned. ‘Ah, but I’m not bad at making things up as I go along. They’re a bunch of teenagers. How hard can it be?’

  ‘That’s the attitude. They’ll do all the work. All you have to do is be the grown-up, take charge of the money and make sure everything’s done properly. All legal, and safe.’

  ‘Oh, God, I hadn’t even thought about all that health and safety lark. You’d think, being a fireman for so long, that would have been top of my list, wouldn’t you? Fire exits, public liability insurance, all that malarkey …’

  ‘You’ll walk it. Now, I was thinking about storage. There’ll be props, costumes, and you may need to hire in some extra chairs. I was thinking maybe the little shed in Prue’s garden. Would she mind, do you think?’

  ‘The old darkroom, you mean? I can’t see why she should. It hasn’t been used for years, not since her grandad was alive. They used to spend ages in there when she was a kid. It’s where her love of photography began, with the science side of it, all the chemicals. Strings of prints, hanging up to dry. Like their own little washing line, it was! The place might need a bit of a clean out after all this time, to fight off the spiders, but it’s watertight, I think, so nothing’s going to get ruined if it rains. Good idea there, Madi. I’ll jot it down in the book.’

  ‘You sure you want to do this?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  They were going to the care home to visit Barbara, and Madi noticed, as she climbed into Tom’s car, that there was a big carrier bag already waiting on the back seat.

  ‘Just a few bits,’ Tom said, spotting the direction of her gaze. ‘They feed her well enough, and keep her clothes clean, but there’s nothing quite like extra treats from home. She’s very partial to a bourbon biscuit but they hardly ever have them in the tin. And I’ve dug out a pair of warm slippers she’d hidden away in the wardrobe and never worn. Still had the label on them! The ones she’s got now are looking past their best.’

  ‘You are a very thoughtful man. She’s lucky to have you.’

  ‘It’s nothing. Just keeping her feet warm and her tastebuds catered for! I wish I could do more.’

  ‘Are you able to take her out? For a walk? Lunch? The theatre?’

  ‘I can. There’s no rules to say I can’t, but … well, to tell the truth, a short walk’s fine, if it’s somewhere quiet, but anything more would just unsettle her. Scare her, even. A strange place, people she doesn’t know. And watching a play would be pointless. She doesn’t have the concentration. Not any more.’

  ‘That’s a shame. But I’m a stranger. Are you sure …?’

  ‘Quite sure. You’ll be entering her environment, not dragging her out into yours. It’s safer. And you’ll be with me. It’ll be okay, honestly. She’ll like you.’

  They drove in companionable silence for the rest of the way, Tom scooting along the lanes with enviable confidence, and pulled into the car park just before three.

  ‘Just in time for tea!’ he said, grabbing the bag from the back and running round to help Madi from the car.

  ‘I’m not an invalid, you know. You don’t have to …’

  ‘Nonsense. It’s the way I was brought up. Always hold doors open for a lady, lay my cloak over puddles and all that. And, besides, you’re still recovering from fairly major surgery, not that anyone would know, to look at you.’

  ‘Oh, don’t remind me.’ She crossed her arms and wrapped them across her chest, then realised what she was doing and started rubbing her hands up and down her arms as if she was cold, adding a little ‘brrr’ noise to emphasise the point.

  ‘Ready?’ Tom said, sliding a hand beneath her elbow and guiding her up the wide concrete steps to the front door.

  There was a young woman at the reception desk, idly filing her nails. ‘Oh, hello, Tom,’ she said, peering up at Madi. ‘And you’ve brought a friend, I see.’

  ‘I have indeed, Clara.’ Tom made no attempt to introduce her. ‘And how is my princess today?’

  ‘Oh, the same. She had chicken for lunch, and a little nap in her room. I think she’s in the TV lounge now.’

  ‘Kettle on?’

  Clara glanced at the clock. ‘Of course. Three o’clock, on the dot. You know that. And we’ve got a nice fruit cake today, courtesy of Olive, Harold’s wife.’

  ‘Right-o.’

  The girl pressed a button to release the inner door, and Tom led Madi through into a long beige corridor. ‘This way, Madi. And don’t get too excited. I’ve sampled Olive’s cakes before and, believe me, you’ll be glad I’
ve brought the bourbons.’

  The TV was on, but nobody seemed to be paying it any attention. Tom pointed to a woman sitting in a high-backed green plush chair facing the window, her fingers working away rhythmically at the arm as if she was trying to pick off some imaginary pieces of fluff. As they approached, Madi could see that Barbara looked a lot older than her sixty-eight years. Her hair was loosely permed but not well combed, and she was wearing no make-up.

  Her face lit up as she spotted them. ‘Hello,’ she said, tentatively, staring at Tom as if meeting an interesting-looking stranger at a party, and holding out her hand to be shaken. ‘I’m Barbara.’

  ‘Hello, Barbara. My name’s Tom.’ His voice was low and gentle as he knelt down on the carpet bedside her and held tightly to her hand, not letting it go. ‘And this is Madi.’

  Barbara tilted her head up and studied Madi’s face. ‘I know you,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen you before.’

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘I’ve seen you on the telly. You were reading the news.’

  ‘Was I?’

  ‘Are you two married?’ she said, looking from one to the other.

  ‘I am,’ said Tom, getting to his feet. ‘But not to Madi. We’re just friends.’

  ‘Oh. That’s nice.’ She stared ahead of her, at something far away, outside the window, as Tom pulled two plastic chairs over and he and Madi sat down.

  ‘Have you brought me anything?’

  Tom picked up the bag from next to his feet and pulled out the biscuits. ‘Look. Your favourites,’ he said, his voice gentle. He must find this all so upsetting, but Madi could see the effort he was making not to let it show.

  ‘They’re not my favourites,’ Barbara said, pushing his hand away. ‘Didn’t you bring any digestives?’

  A staff member brought a tray and laid it down on the table next to Barbara’s chair. ‘Three cups,’ she said. ‘Just help yourselves from the pot. And there’s cake, if you’d like some?’

  ‘We’ll pass on that, thanks, Claire.’ Tom winked at the woman, who had to suppress a giggle.

  ‘Can’t say I blame you,’ she said under her breath, and moved off to serve someone else.

  ‘So, how are you today, Barb?’

  ‘Good. The shower was cold this morning, and there was a blackbird. Who did you say you were again?’

  ‘Tom. Remember? We’ve known each other a long time.’

  ‘Have we?’

  ‘Nearly fifty years.’

  ‘It was the eighteenth of June,’ she said, a slow smile spreading across her face.

  ‘That’s right!’

  ‘I could have married Ken, you know.’

  Tom poured a cup of tea and handed it to her, carefully. ‘I’m so glad you didn’t.’

  ‘How are the girls?’ she said, suddenly lucid. ‘Not with you today?’

  ‘Not today, love. Busy with the little ones, I expect, but I’m sure they’ll be along to see you soon.’

  ‘Do you have any children, Madi?’

  ‘I do, yes. One son.’

  ‘I had a son once.’

  Madi looked across at Tom who shook his head and put his fingers to his lips as if to say, ‘Just go along with it.’

  ‘So, what have you been up to, Barb?’ Tom tried to steer the conversation in a new direction. ‘Been out dancing?’ His eyes shone with mischief. ‘Discoing the night away?’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ she said, tapping his arm. ‘You know they only have the discos on Saturdays. You should come, Madi.’ She turned her head towards Madi and whispered. ‘There are some great-looking lads there. Between you and me I’ve got my eyes on one. His name’s Tom …’

  ‘Is she always like that?’

  ‘Good days and bad days. That was somewhere in between, I suppose. She remembered your name, and she wanted you to go dancing with her. You’ve made a friend there!’

  ‘But …’

  ‘But she didn’t recognise me, her own husband? Yes, I know. She gets confused. It’s how it is, I’m afraid. But she liked the slippers, even though she had no idea it was her who’d bought them, and she did eat the bourbons in the end, so we did our bit to make her happy.’

  ‘And the thing about having a son?’

  ‘Miscarriage. Long ago, and no knowing what sex it was, but she likes to have something to cling to. Called it – him – Ian. Keeps him real. And surprisingly not something she forgets.’

  ‘Oh, Tom. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Now don’t you start or you’ll get me going too. There’s nothing I can do. Just accept things as they are and keep on being there for her. And I do need other things to do, to think about. Which is where young Donny’s stage show comes in. That should keep my mind occupied and my hands busy for a while. Just what I need. Thanks, Madi. I wouldn’t have even considered it if not for you.’

  ‘I know I won’t be here when it all finally comes together, but do reserve me a ticket, won’t you? I’d definitely like to come back and see it. Well, to see you too, of course.’

  ‘Front-row seat already has your name on it, Madi. Not quite the kind of production you’re used to, but …’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it, and we all had to start somewhere. You should have seen my first time on stage. No, actually, come to think of it, I’m glad you didn’t.’

  ‘Bad, was it?’

  ‘Truly appalling. I was only nine, I forgot half my lines, and my long blonde wig fell off in the middle of a scene.’ She lifted her hand to her head. ‘Oh dear. At least that didn’t happen today. God, I’d actually forgotten I was wearing the damn thing.’

  ‘Shows your confidence is coming back. And it won’t be long now until you can discard it altogether. You know I much prefer you without it anyway. More natural. More you.’

  ‘Tom, you hardly know me. How can you possibly know what’s the real me?’

  ‘Oh, I have a pretty good idea. And I like what I see. And I meant it when I told Barb we were friends. Good friends, and I hope we can stay that way after you go back home. Keep in touch. And you did promise me a backstage tour, remember?’

  ‘If I go back to work.’

  ‘Oh, you will, Madi. It’s in your blood. I may not know you very well – yet – but I do know that much. You are an actress above all else. Well, apart from being a mother. But there’s absolutely no reason you can’t do both, and do them well. I have faith in you.’

  ‘Talking of which … Faith. I keep promising I’ll pop in and see her, for tea and cake. I don’t suppose you’d come with me, would you?’

  ‘Why? Not scared of her, are you?’

  ‘Not at all. But I watched you sampling the wares at that village produce show and I know how partial you are to cake, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, go on then. No time like the present. Let’s go and knock on her door. Those bourbons were okay, but not enough to satisfy a growing lad like me. And Faith does make a great cup of tea.’

  Orchard House was just as Madi had imagined it. Big and sprawling, surrounded by lawns and hedges, with an oak front door that creaked as it opened. Faith welcomed them both with awkward hugs and squeals of surprise, and they went inside, with Faith leading the way down a long hall with a high ceiling, past doors that opened into rooms that she could see were full of dark wood furniture, fat squishy armchairs and lots of floral printed cushions and curtains. In the kitchen, a threadbare rug was spread out on a tiled floor in front of the range, where a small white dog lay, tail twitching as he slept.

  ‘Oh, don’t mind Noodle,’ Faith said, stepping over him and hurriedly pulling off her apron as she reached for the kettle. ‘That’s his favourite place. And he’s had a tiring day, chasing rabbits! Not that he ever catches any. Now, shall we sit in here or would you prefer to get more comfy in the parlour?’

  ‘Here’s fine. No need to stand on ceremony with us, Faith. It’s not as if I haven’t been in this kitchen many times before.’

  ‘Ah, but Madi hasn’t, Tom. Now, let me pour you some tea, a
nd then maybe Madi would like a little tour of the house? It’s quite old. And quite grand once, in its day. They say the fireplace is original Victorian.’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘So, where’s Stuart? Still at work?’ Tom took the mug he was offered and wrapped his hands around it, blowing across the top of his tea to cool it.

  ‘Out delivering a litter of puppies up at Bradwell Farm. They’ll be looking for homes for them, I shouldn’t wonder. Fancy a puppy, Madi? A bit of company for you in London?’

  Madi laughed. ‘I don’t think a puppy would really be suited to a top-floor flat. And I’m not at home enough to take on any sort of pet, I’m afraid. I’d struggle, even with keeping a goldfish fed and watered!’

  ‘Ah, but you’ve been doing so well with little Flo. Ralph says you’re a natural. How is she, by the way?’

  ‘Better. More or less back to her old self, I’d say. And quite happily curled up on the bed when I left earlier.’

  ‘That’s good. I’m sure our Prue will be grateful. How is she, by the way? Have you heard anything from her? She’s living in your flat, I understand?’

  ‘Yes, she is, but we don’t stay in touch. It was purely a business arrangement. A swap that suited us both, that’s all. And one that, sadly, will be over all too soon. I’ve loved being here in Shelling. It’s been exactly what I needed, and I hope that London has proved to be what Prue needed too.’

  Madi could see Faith bristle. ‘She has a perfectly good life here …’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure she does, but some time away never does any harm, does it? Helps put things into perspective, show us what’s important.’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Faith turned her back and opened a cupboard, pulled out a large tin and opened that as well. ‘Now … I do believe I promised you cake, and as luck would have it, I made one only this morning. A nice big slice for you, Tom?’

  ‘You know me so well.’

  ‘I should do, after all these years. And Madi … can I tempt you too?’

  ‘It looks lovely, Faith. Yes, please.’

  Madi looked up at the sound of footsteps crunching across the gravel outside the window.