by Vivien Brown
‘Oh, that’ll be Joe,’ Faith said, lowering her voice. ‘Home from work. He rents our extension flat at the back there. To be honest, it’s put me in a bit of a quandary, this business between him and Prue. I mean, if they’re no longer an item, it could get a bit difficult, couldn’t it? Having him living right here on our doorstep. I was wondering if maybe we should ask him to leave?’
‘Seems a bit harsh,’ Tom said, shrugging his shoulders and licking cake crumbs from his fingers. ‘A man losing his home because of something he has, or hasn’t, done in his private life. Oh, I know she’s your daughter and all, but I’m not sure breaking up with her is really grounds for eviction, do you?’
‘Well, you know me, Tom. I don’t like any unpleasantness. And I want Prue to feel happy to come here at any time. This was her home, and always will be. I’d hate to think she felt uncomfortable coming here in case she runs into him.’
‘You make him sound like the devil all of a sudden. I thought you liked him?’
‘I did. I do.’
‘Then let them sort it out between them. If you want my advice, don’t get involved.’
‘Is that what you think too, Madi?’
‘None of my business, Faith.’ Madi couldn’t help remembering that glimpse of young Joe and his friend just days ago, and how she’d told herself that very same thing then. None of my business indeed. ‘But I think Tom’s right. Stay out of it. Meddling in our children’s lives never ends well. If you don’t want to end up doing the wrong thing, it’s often best to do nothing. Say nothing.’
‘Families, eh? Have you ever put your foot in it, Madi? Done the wrong thing, but for all the right reasons?’
‘Too many times to mention! And once you mess up, it can be a struggle knowing how to put things right again. Best not to mess up in the first place.’
Madi could feel Tom’s eyes on her. He knew exactly what she was thinking about. George.
‘So, shall I show you around?’ Faith bustled to her feet. ‘Excuse the mess!’
‘That would be lovely.’
After a leisurely tour of the house, which made Madi feel like a bit of an intruder as Faith insisted on opening every door, even the one for the toilet, and showing off what seemed like every last cobwebbed corner, it was time to go.
‘Come on, Madi. I’m sure Faith has things to do, Stuart’s dinner to cook …’
‘Well, it was nice to see you both … together.’
Tom smiled. ‘We’ve been out. Visiting Barbara,’ he added, cutting off any further enquiry. ‘You should come and see her yourself. It’s been a long time.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Faith looked flustered. ‘I will. It’s just that … well, I find that sort of thing difficult. I wouldn’t really know what to say.’
‘I think you’ll find she’s the one who doesn’t know what to say. Sometimes she doesn’t even know her own name. But she’s still Barbara, underneath, and you were good friends once.’
‘I’m sorry, Tom. It’s just …’
‘I know. And I’ll leave it up to you. Thanks for the tea. And the cake. It was delicious, as always.’
They walked back to Tom’s car, Faith waving them off and then hurrying back inside.
‘Come on, hop in. It may only be a few yards home and you could walk it almost as quickly, but we set out together and we’ll arrive back together. Let the gossips have their day!’
He started the engine and pulled away from the kerb.
‘I don’t suppose, after all that cake, that you fancy dinner, do you? In the pub? Oh, not right away. Leave it an hour or so. My treat, naturally.’
He turned his face towards Madi’s, waiting for an answer, his eyes drawn away from the road ahead. For seconds. Only seconds.
They both felt the bump. Tom slammed on the brakes and they leapt out of the car. Madi’s hands flew up to her face and it was all she could do not to scream.
It was Flo, dear, sweet little Flo, lying on her side on the road, her paws outstretched, her tail curled limply behind her. And, if it was not for the trickle of blood slowly pooling around her head, she would have looked for all the world as if she was simply asleep.
Chapter 26
PRUE
Miss Parker’s flat was cluttered and dark.
‘You must call me Emily,’ she said, once the initial awkwardness was over and Prue was sitting with a bone-china cup of weak tea on the small chintzy sofa by the window, the curtains three-quarters closed behind her.
‘Thank you, and I’m Prue, as you already know. It’s very good of you to offer us some help with raising funds for the garden.’
‘Us? I thought you were here alone.’
‘Oh, I am. No, I meant Aaron. You know, from number six. He’s been very good, helping me out …’
‘I see. Not with the cake baking, I assume.’
Prue wasn’t sure whether to smile. Emily Parker had one of those faces that made it very hard to tell whether she was joking or deadly serious. ‘No, of course not. That’s where you come in, I hope.’
‘Depends what this couple want, I suppose.’ Emily handed Prue a thick piece of fruitcake and a small fork. ‘I am rather a traditionalist when it comes to a celebration cake. Fruit or sponge, royal icing and a piping bag. I don’t really hold with this new fad of piling cupcakes into towers or flavouring the sponge with lavender or roses or whatever. I’m happy to donate the flour and eggs and such like. Fruit too, if that’s what they want. It’s not as if any of that costs very much. It’s the time that adds the value, you see. The care, the skill, that’s where the real cost lies, but I am prepared to give of those freely too, in aid of the cause, so to speak. I have time on my hands, and I like the idea of a garden. I like flowers. Roses, in particular. Such a romantic flower …’
‘Thank you. And I’m happy to let you choose some of the plants, if you’d like to. It is your garden, not mine, in the long-term.’ Prue swallowed a mouthful of cake, rich with sultanas and cherries. It really was very good. ‘I’ll speak to Simon.’
‘Simon?’
‘He’s the one who comes to cut the grass and clean the stairs …’
‘Ah, yes. And his part in all this is …?’
‘It’s his friend who wants the anniversary cake and might be willing to supply some paving in exchange.’
‘I see. I can’t say I’ve ever been paid in concrete before.’
This time Prue did see the hint of a smile playing at the corners of Miss Parker’s lips.
‘Have you always been a baker, Emily? Because this cake is delicious. My mother makes cakes, but yours is in a different league. I can certainly tell you’re no beginner.’
‘Oh, thank you. Yes, I suppose you could say I was a professional, of sorts. I had a little café, you see. Close to the West End. Hidden away, but its reputation made sure they came. For speciality teas, home-made scones, a slice of cake … I didn’t open in the evenings, when the riff-raff descend, looking for chips and alcohol, making all their mess and noise. Oh no, I preferred the more respectful afternoon trade. All the best people knew where I was. Popping in after a matinee, or when out shopping. Some of them quite well-known …’
‘Oh, really? That sounds exciting.’ Prue finished her cake, wiping a stray crumb from her mouth, and laid the empty plate down on the small, ornate table beside her. ‘Anyone I might have heard of?’
‘Oh, I don’t gossip, dear. The secrets of the rich and famous are safe with me. And I knew quite a few, believe me. But, yes, I have always baked. Not so much these days, with nobody to eat it but myself, but I will relish the challenge. And a silver wedding, I think you said. Little bells, some silver ribbon. You see, I already have ideas. So, you speak to this Simon and his friend and let me know what’s required. You know where to find me. I don’t get out much these days. I’m always here.’
Prue found herself ushered quietly out, the door closed behind her. Stan was hovering in the hall, fiddling with the latest batch of pizza leaflets and tutting to hi
mself over little Carrie’s buggy, parked unobtrusively in the corner. He turned his back and pretended not to have seen her, which suited Prue just fine. Miserable old devil!
‘I have to go home.’
Aaron had answered the door wearing nothing but pyjama bottoms.
‘What?’ He looked at her through sleepy eyes, not quite with-it enough to be sure what was going on. ‘Slow down. Calm down. And say that again.’
‘I have to leave. Today. Now.’
‘But your month isn’t up yet. And what about the garden? You haven’t even told me about your visit to Miss Nosey Parker yet.’
‘I’m sorry about that. Maybe you can do it. Take over the garden, I mean. Or we can just forget the whole thing.’
‘What? Of course we can’t.’
‘Well, maybe I could come back. I don’t know. For now, I just have to go. It’s my cat, Flo. She’s been in an accident, hit by a car.’
‘Oh, no, Prue, I’m so sorry. Is she …?’
‘No, she’s still alive, but it doesn’t look good. She’s an old cat. Not strong, and she’s been hurt badly. My friend Sian works at the vets’. She rang, thought I’d want to know straightaway. So I’ve grabbed a few essentials and I’m going to catch the first available train. I didn’t really have time to pack properly, so I suppose I’ll have to come back, won’t I? If only to collect my things. Do you think Madi will mind, me leaving stuff here, not tidying up or changing the sheets or anything?’
‘I wouldn’t worry about any of that for now. I can always go in and clean up if you like. Just leave me the key. Oh, no, actually, I think we already have one. For emergencies. Mum is the landlord, after all.’
‘Thanks, Aaron.’ She leant forward, not quite sure whether she should kiss him goodbye, but doing it anyway, briefly, on the cheek. ‘Wish me luck. Wish Flo luck …’
‘Of course.’
He stepped forward, his hands on the banister, and remained standing there, shivering on the landing, as she rushed off down the stairs and turned to give him a limp wave when she reached the bottom. ‘Bye.’
‘Bye.’
The walk to the station, the wait on the platform, the train journey in the dark, all blurred together, until several hours later she found herself back in Norfolk, Sian wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her into a cab.
‘How is she?’
‘It’s early days but she’s doing well. She’s a little fighter, that one, and your dad and Ralph will do everything they possibly can for her. You know that.’
‘How did it happen? You said it was Tom Bishop and Madi in the car. Who was actually driving? Were they speeding?’
‘No, just an accident from what I can gather. It was Tom driving, and he’s really cut up about it. But Flo’s alive, Prue, that’s what matters. So come on, stop fretting. We’ll be home soon enough and you can see for yourself.’
‘Home? Oh, God, I can’t even go home, can I? Madi’s still there, in my house. We had a deal. I can’t suddenly throw her out because I’ve come back early.’
‘I’m sure she’ll understand. Or maybe you could share for a while?’
‘Sian, I don’t even have a spare bed. I got rid of Gran’s rickety old single and put my desk in there, remember?’
‘Sofa? Or farm her out to your mum’s maybe? We’ll work something out. She’ll be okay about it. She’s okay, is Madi. Nice. Caring. She’s been really great looking after Flo, since the abscess.’
‘The what?’
‘Oh, no! I’m sorry. You didn’t know about that, did you? Look, it was nothing serious, just a sore mouth, and we didn’t want to spoil things for you, drag you back over nothing …’
‘Well, it’s not nothing now, is it?’ Prue’s mind was racing. ‘If Flo wasn’t her usual self, if she was feeling poorly, in pain, slow to cross the road … For heaven’s sake, Sian! She’s my cat. My responsibility. How could you not tell me? If you’d have called me sooner, I could have been here, taking care of her, then maybe it wouldn’t have happened. Oh, God, it’s my fault, isn’t it? For going away, leaving her …’
‘You can’t think like that. These things happen. It’s nobody’s fault, and certainly not yours. Now, come on, wipe that miserable expression away. Flo won’t want to see you looking sad. She’ll just be glad her mummy’s home.’
‘You make her sound like she’s my child, not my cat.’
‘Same thing really. Flo’s family.’
‘Yes, she is, isn’t she?’
They climbed out of the cab, Sian pushing Prue’s purse away and insisting on paying the fare, and they hurried up the narrow lane towards the surgery. The bells were silent for a change.
‘No Donny tonight?’
‘It’s football on Thursdays, remember? And besides, it’s almost ten o’clock!’
‘Is it? I’d lost track.’
‘Actually, there’s talk of our Donny taking up other interests, thanks to your house guest, so we may yet be spared!’
‘I’m curious. And relieved! Tell me later.’
Once inside, Sian ushered Prue straight through to the back room and to the wire cage at the end where Flo lay sleeping on a blanket. Prue felt her heart lurch when she saw her, looking so small and helpless. ‘Hello, sweetie. Have you missed me?’
Flo tried to lift her head, swathed in bandages so Prue couldn’t even see her ears. One eye was swollen and almost closed, one leg held straight by some kind of splint-like contraption, and there was an IV line feeding her fluids.
‘Oh …’
‘It’s not as bad as it looks. Her leg is fractured but her skull isn’t, thank God.’
‘But the blood … you said on the phone that there was blood.’
‘She was quite badly cut, so your dad’s had to stitch her up, and she’s lost a couple of teeth, that’s all. Her poor old mouth’s taken a bit of a battering lately, what with one thing and another. She’s still in shock, Prue, and she’ll be very sleepy for a while, from the drugs we’ve given her, but she’s been incredibly lucky, especially considering her age. Here, I’ll open up, then you can stroke her. Gently, mind.’
Prue nodded, feeling her best friend’s arms close around her. And that was when she finally allowed herself to cry.
Prue sat in her mum’s kitchen the next morning, nursing a cup of tea.
‘You were so late last night I must have nodded off waiting for you. Your father says you were at the surgery until nearly midnight!’
‘I had to make sure she was okay. Thanks for the bed though, not that I actually got a lot of sleep.’
‘Well, you must have slept eventually or you wouldn’t have got up so late. Still, it’s good to have you back, love. I assume you’ll be staying? Not swanning back to London again?’
‘There was no swanning involved, Mum. I needed a break. A short break, to get my head together. I was always coming back.’
‘Glad to hear it. And have you? Got your head together?’
‘Getting there.’
‘No pining over what’s not to be? Because he’s not good enough for you, you know. That Joe Barton. Never was.’
‘Funny you never said that when we were together. In fact, I always thought you liked him. Letting him move into the annexe …’
‘That was a business arrangement. A financial transaction. And when he fell out with his father we thought it would keep him near, stop him running off somewhere again, so that you two could …’
‘Live happily ever after?’
Her mother huffed. ‘Obviously not.’ She stood up and went to the cupboard behind her. ‘How about some breakfast? Cereal, or toast?’
‘Bit late for that. It’s more like elevenses time!’
‘Cake then? I’ve got some nice cherry genoa, made yesterday. Or there’s a slice of carrot left?’
‘Is that your answer to everything? Cake? Whatever’s wrong in my life, in the family, in the world, it can be solved with cake.’
‘Don’t be silly. Food can be a
comfort, that’s all. Talking of which, what would you like for dinner later? I thought I might invite Madi along. I hear you’ve never actually met, which I find very odd, I must say, what with you letting her live in your gran’s house.’
‘My house, Mum. And I’ve been living in hers, so it seems pretty fair to me. But, yes, I would like to meet her. And to sort out who’s sleeping where, now that I’m back. I’d best not leave it until this evening. I’ll pop round in a minute.’
‘Well, it was good to have you back in your old room last night. You know I always keep it aired, with clean sheets, just in case … so if Madi won’t budge, you can always stay here until she’s gone. Whenever that might be. She’s got her claws right into our Tom, from what I can tell, so who knows how long she might hang around.’
‘Mum! Tom’s perfectly happy with Barbara. You surely don’t think he’d …’
‘Probably not, but you never know, do you? Poor Barbara’s hardly in a position to challenge him, is she? She’d never know, would she? And men do have … needs. Who knows what goes on in other people’s relationships? Just look at you and your Joe.’
‘Well, he’s not exactly my Joe any more, is he? If he ever was.’
‘No, he’s not, and it’s time you held your head up high and showed him you’re doing fine, that you don’t care what he says or does. Running away isn’t the answer. You should have stayed and faced him. You’re a Harris, and we don’t let people walk all over us, you hear?’
Prue laughed. ‘You make it sound like we’re lords of the manor or something. Lord and Lady Harris of Shelling and their spinster daughter!’
‘Spinster indeed! And we don’t need a fancy title to make us who we are, Prue. We’re a good, hardworking family who belong here in Shelling. Don’t let anyone drive you away, that’s all I’m saying. Now, is roast chicken all right for tonight? And an apple pie for afters.’
‘With apples from the family orchard?’
‘Oh, you may mock, my girl, but you won’t find a better pie than mine around these parts, whatever that landlady at The Brown Cow may say.’
‘You can be a right snob when you want to be.’
