A Place to Call Home

by Carole Matthews

  ‘Really?’ Her face falls. ‘How very bloody disappointing.’

  I laugh at her cheekiness and I don’t tell her that, in my heart, I feel the same.

  Chapter Fifty-six

  Joy brings us tea, which calms my nerves, and we sit at our pristine nail bars, ready for our first customers.

  ‘I’m going to get us some matching polo shirts,’ Crystal whispers. ‘Pale pink. That’ll look cool.’

  Crystal, as always, is groomed within an inch of her life, immaculate. I do feel as if I’m letting the side down and, if they have us back, I’ll try harder to look as if I’m a proper beauty professional.

  A smart lady with grey hair and a string of pearls sits down in front of me and I check the paper that Joy’s given me. ‘Hello, Mrs Hill.’

  ‘Hello, dearie,’ she says. Her smile is kind, but her eyes are tired. ‘I’ve never had my nails done before. I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘You’re my first customer,’ I admit. ‘Please be patient with me as I’m rather slow and want to make a good job.’

  ‘I’m in no rush,’ she says. ‘I’m retired, you know. I’ve got all the time in the world.’ Mrs Hill holds out her nails for inspection and her hands are frail, spotted with brown patches of age. I go through all that I’ve been taught at the college with as much precision as I can.

  Crystal has no such qualms. She’s already whizzing away with her nail file, chatting animatedly with her client.

  I work my way quietly along Mrs Hill’s fingers and then ask, ‘What polish would you like?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t mind. Nothing too bright.’

  ‘Can I try a French manicure please? I’d like to try to improve my techniques.’

  ‘I’ve no idea what one is, but you do what you think, dearie,’ she says.

  I can see Crystal painting furiously. She already has the sheet of sparkles out. As I watch her, she looks up and winks at me. My friend gives me the thumbs-up and I return it.

  ‘We trained together,’ I tell Mrs Hill. ‘This is my first ever job.’

  ‘Then you’re doing very well,’ she tells me kindly. ‘You’ve a very relaxing personality.’

  Crystal finishes her client and starts on another one. The first lady wanders over to my station.

  ‘Look at this, Agnes.’ She proudly holds out her fingers. Her nails are shocking pink and encrusted with diamanté.

  ‘Oh, my word,’ Mrs Hill breathes. She examines her own nails, which look very plain in comparison.

  ‘I can ask Crystal to put some more decoration on them if you wish,’ I say. ‘I’m not yet confident enough to do this.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she says, a trifle too quickly. ‘I like them just as they are.’

  So I dry them off to finish and then Mrs Hill is replaced by another lady.

  We work all morning, then Joy makes us a sandwich. We go out into the garden and the sunshine to eat it.

  Crystal sits on one of the benches and instantly attracts a crowd of elderly gentlemen around her. I wander off and leave them flirting with her.

  ‘Show me the garden,’ I say to Joy. ‘Do you help out here?’

  ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘I keep trying to persuade them to try a few vegetables, but to no avail. They’re all flower people.’

  ‘You’re quiet today?’

  She purses her lips and I can see a dark shadow cross her face. ‘Had some bad news,’ she says. ‘I hoped both of my sons might come home for a visit this year. It appears neither of them can.’

  With that she starts to cry, and I put my arm around her, steering her to a nearby seat. We sit down and I offer her the clean tissue I have in my pocket. I notice that Joy’s hands are shaking as she wipes her eyes.

  The seat is white wrought iron and is shaded by a rose arbour, which means we’re out of sight of the other guests.

  ‘They’re busy,’ she continues, sniffling. ‘They both have very demanding jobs. I know that. I’m very proud of them. Really, I am. But it’s been so long. I barely know Stephen’s family. My own grandchildren. I haven’t even seen baby Jay, and I wonder now when I ever will.’

  ‘You could go to them, Joy,’ I suggest softly when her tears have abated.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘At one time I thought I was trapped for ever in a loveless marriage, but I found the courage to leave.’

  ‘I hate to fly. I’ve never been on a plane in my life and I don’t intend to start now.’

  ‘It would take you to your family,’ I remind her. ‘In less than a day, you could be there to see them all. How lovely would that be?’

  She crumbles again. ‘I do miss them so terribly.’

  ‘You mustn’t be frightened to do this, Joy.’

  ‘I’m not getting any younger, am I?’

  I shake my head. ‘None of us are.’

  Patting my hand, she says, ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Am I going to do your nails today?’

  ‘Look at my hands,’ she says. ‘They’re full of soil and the cuticles are ripped to shreds.’

  They look sore and neglected. ‘I’ve learned to do massage too,’ I tell her. ‘I bought some lovely lavender cream for you in Lyme Regis which will soothe them. I could file them and then give you a gentle massage. That would be nice?’

  Some of the pain in her face recedes. ‘You’re a very considerate person, Ayesha. I think I’d like that.’

  ‘Then I will consult my very busy diary,’ I tease, ‘and find you a special appointment.’

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  When we get home, Hayden is waiting at the door for us. He rushes out to help us carry our bags in from the car, and I wonder if he’s been lonely while all three of us have been out all day.

  Crystal swung by the school and we picked up Sabina on the way home. She rushes into Hayden’s arms as soon as she sees him.

  ‘Good day at school, Beanie?’ he asks, and my daughter nods.

  We go inside and dump all of our manicure and nail-painting paraphernalia in the hallway.

  ‘I’ve made dinner,’ Hayden says. ‘It’s not up to your standard, Ayesha, but there’s a lasagne waiting to go in the oven.’

  ‘I didn’t know you could cook,’ Crystal says, surprised.

  ‘That’s about the extent of it,’ Hayden admits. ‘And it’s been years since I even did that, but I enjoyed it.’

  ‘It’s a very nice thought,’ I tell him. For once, I don’t feel like putting on my apron and peeling vegetables, so this is very welcome. Then, ‘Sabina, have you homework to do?’

  She shakes her head.

  ‘I could paint your nails if you like,’ Crystal says to her. ‘That would be all right, wouldn’t it, Ayesha?’

  My daughter turns pleading eyes to me.

  ‘As long as it’s something very, very discreet. No pink sparkles. I don’t want Sabina being told off by her teacher.’

  ‘We’ll sit at the kitchen table,’ Crystal says. She glances at me and Hayden. ‘Why don’t you two go for a walk on the Heath? I’ll put the lasagne in the oven a bit later. I bet you haven’t ventured out of the house all day, Hayd. A bit of fresh air would do you the world of good.’

  He looks uncertain. Crystal’s right. He’s probably closeted himself away in our absence.

  ‘It’s lovely out there,’ I urge, and all the time I’ve been here, I’ve been too afraid to take Sabina out on to the Heath. This weekend, spending time on the beach, laughing together, has given me a further taste for freedom. We’ve all been hiding away behind tall walls for too long and I’d like to explore my surroundings more. ‘It would be nice if you showed me the Heath.’

  ‘Go on,’ Crystal says. ‘Don’t be so miserable. We’ll be all right here, won’t we, Bean?’

  I think Hayden senses that resistance is futile, as he shrugs his acceptance. ‘OK. Let’s take a turn in the park.’

  ‘Be a good girl for Auntie Crystal,’ I tell Sabina. Not that she’s ever naughty. Sometimes I wish I could
tell her off for being noisy or unruly. It’s the only sadness in my heart.

  Hayden and I walk to the front door and, before we leave the house, he covers his blond hair with his customary woolly hat and puts on his sunglasses. He’s wary as we turn out of the gate, but there’s no need as we’re quite alone in the street. A short walk and we cross over to the entrance to the Heath. It’s a pretty expanse of parkland and we stroll together along the well-trodden path. A few dark clouds are gathering in the sky that seem to have come out of nowhere. The air is heavy, tangible. Perhaps the heat has built up too much, too quickly, and needs to break.

  We fall into step together, and after a few moments Hayden reaches out and takes my hand. It feels warm and strong and I take great comfort from it.

  ‘I’ve missed you today,’ he says. ‘After such a great weekend, the house seemed really empty.’

  ‘We had a lovely time,’ I tell him. ‘The British seaside is very beautiful.’

  ‘I could buy a house down there,’ he says. ‘We could go regularly. If you’d like that.’

  I hesitate. It seems so easy for Hayden. Just like that he can buy another house if it takes his fancy.

  ‘You’re not keen?’ His face is worried. ‘I’m rushing you?’

  ‘No, no. It’s not that.’

  Hayden stops and turns to me. ‘Do you think we can be together? I know that we’ve both got… well… baggage. For want of a better word. But I think we could be good for each other. I know my life’s been a lot brighter since you came into it. And I love Sabina. I adore her. Almost as much as I adore you.’ His finger lifts my chin. ‘I hadn’t planned to say so much, but, now you know. That’s how I feel.’

  I’m about to speak when Hayden spins round. ‘Fuck,’ he says. ‘Photographer.’ Instantly he turns his back to the man and his body shields mine.

  I glance past his shoulder, and sure enough, there’s a man standing some distance away. There’s no doubt that his camera with its large white lens is trained on us, and he’s snapping away.

  ‘Quick. In here.’ Hayden grabs my arm and pulls me into the trees. ‘We’ll have to stay hidden for a bit before we can make our getaway.’ With me in his wake, he works his way deeper into the undergrowth until soon we’re in a dense thicket. Stopping, he leans against a towering oak tree and pulls me to him, sheltering me in his arms. ‘I don’t think he’ll follow us in here.’ He glances anxiously along the route we’ve just come and listens for footsteps. I can hear nothing.

  Hayden’s heart beats erratically in his chest.

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ He lifts his sunglasses; now it’s gloomy in the trees and the sun has disappeared. His blue eyes are dark and troubled. ‘Built-in radar, or simply years of practice. By some sixth sense, I can usually tell when there’s a camera around.’

  It must be awful for him to have lived his life like this. ‘I didn’t understand how bad it was.’

  ‘I’m worried for you,’ he says. ‘I hope he didn’t get a good picture of us together.’

  My heart sinks. ‘You’d mind that?’

  ‘It could be all over the internet tonight and in the newspapers tomorrow. Next week it will hit the gossip mags. What if by some chance your husband sees it?’

  ‘Oh.’ I hadn’t considered that. I thought that he wouldn’t want to be seen with me, not the other way round.

  Rain starts to fall. Big, fat spots that bounce angrily on the leaves.

  ‘There’s nothing we can do but wait. I might be old news. They might not run it.’

  I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but I can only hope that he’s right.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he adds. ‘If this blows your cover then I won’t forgive myself. I should have chased after the bloke and made him delete the picture.’

  ‘There’s nothing we can do now?’

  ‘No. We’ll just have to sit tight. I’ll buy all the papers tomorrow.’ Hayden strokes my face. ‘I’m sorry. So sorry. I’ve compromised your safety.’

  My throat tightens, but I say, ‘I’ve never felt more safe than when I’m with you.’

  He pulls me into his embrace and I press my body against his. Hayden’s lips, when they find mine, are warm and searching. It feels as if there is a world of sadness and pain in them. We cleave together against the trunk of the oak, under the shelter of its leaves. The rain is heavier now. His hands rove across my body and I want to lie down on the carpet of wet leaves and have him make love to me.

  He breaks from me, putting my face away from his. ‘You’re getting soaked through.’

  My thin blouse is plastered to my skin. ‘I don’t mind.’

  ‘We should get back,’ he says tightly. ‘He won’t follow us in this. He won’t risk getting his damn camera wet.’

  There’s a bitterness in his tone that I’ve not heard before. He’s clearly angry that this man’s camera will be more precious to him than our privacy and the harm that he could do in exposing us.

  So, with one final kiss, Hayden takes my hand and leads me out of the woods.

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  ‘Oh, you’re half drowned!’ Crystal says as we appear in the kitchen. ‘We heard the rain, didn’t we, Joy? Guess you didn’t make it to shelter.’

  ‘We were hiding in the woods when it started,’ I tell her, dripping on the kitchen floor. My hair is in rat’s tails, and water drips from the hem of my trousers, which are blackened with dirt. I fear my summer sandals may be ruined. Suddenly, I feel like crying.

  ‘You poor things. Let me get you both towels,’ Joy says, and hurries out of the kitchen.

  Hayden looks wretched. He pulls off his sodden hat. ‘Some good this did me,’ he grumbles as he tosses it into the sink. ‘We were papped, Crystal. Just as we got on to the Heath.’

  ‘After all this time?’

  ‘They’re sharks,’ he spits. ‘Always circling.’

  Crystal looks anxiously at Sabina. ‘They got a shot of both of you?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ He rakes his hair.

  I want to be in his arms again, yet I don’t know how to cross the void between us.

  ‘I’ll up the security on the house.’ Hayden paces the kitchen. ‘Perhaps Sabina should have a bodyguard.’ He looks at me, eyes bleak. ‘Or you should get away from here. Leave altogether.’

  I swallow deeply before I say, ‘I do not wish to do that.’

  ‘Of course she doesn’t. Calm down, Hayd,’ Crystal says. ‘Let’s wait and see what happens. It might be a storm in a teacup. If Lady Gaga flashes her boobs or Cheryl Cole falls out of a nightclub in nothing but her knickers, they might not be interested in you.’

  He looks slightly mollified by that, but says, ‘I don’t care about me. I’m worried about Ayesha.’

  ‘She’ll be fine,’ Crystal says. ‘She’s got us looking out for her now.’

  ‘How can you say that when I’ve steered her straight into the path of the paparazzi?’

  ‘It might be a one-off, Hayden,’ she assures him. ‘Let’s not go overboard.’

  Joy returns with two towels. She hands one to Hayden and then starts to dry my hair with the other, fussing over me. I feel miserable, bereft. Just when I thought everything was going so well. I should have known that it would be too good to be true. What if my photograph is in the newspaper? What if Suresh sees it? He’ll surely come after me, come after Sabina.

  ‘Dinner will be ready soon,’ Joy says. ‘That’ll warm you up again.’

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ Hayden says. ‘I’m going to have a hot shower.’

  With that he leaves and disappears upstairs. I want to rush after him, cradle him to me. I want to feel the comfort of his arms once more. Instead, I stay rooted to the spot.

  ‘Don’t worry about him,’ Crystal says lightly. ‘Give him a few hours and he’ll be fine. He takes everything to heart.’

  But I know that it’s because of Laura. He’s thinking that what happened to her could happen to me, to my daugh
ter.

  ‘Go and get yourself into some dry clothes,’ Joy says. ‘I’ll serve dinner in five minutes.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  I go upstairs and strip off my wet things. When I’ve towelled myself down, I pull on my maxidress and a little cardigan. The warm, dry clothes against my chilled skin are soothing. I think about climbing the stairs to see how Hayden is, but I don’t want to incur his wrath. I feel that I encouraged him to go on to the Heath, and if it wasn’t for me, there’d be no photograph.

  I stand at the bottom of the staircase, looking up, straining to hear any noise, but there’s nothing. After a few moments I tiptoe back downstairs.

  Joy is lifting the lasagne out of the oven.

  ‘Let me,’ I say.

  ‘Sit yourself down, miss,’ she instructs.

  I do as I’m told and take the chair next to Sabina. My daughter’s face is so sad, and I slip my arm around her. ‘Don’t worry, little one. It will all be sorted out. You’ve nothing to fear.’ I can only hope that I’m right.

  Hayden’s lasagne looks very appetising as Joy cuts into it and I wish that he was here to enjoy it. Joy passes the plates around.

  ‘If you want some good news,’ Joy says, ‘all the folk at the day centre loved you. They definitely want you to come back next week and they’re happy to pay a good price for your services too. They’ll still want a discount, obviously, as they’re not charging you for the facilities. But I thought that was promising. I need to check with Edgar. He’s the new manager of the centre, who’s been brought in to be a bit of a new broom for the place. We’ve got some lottery funding to give it a revamp, and Edgar wants to bring in more outside speakers and services to jolly us all up. This should fit in nicely. If he says it’s all right, we’re hoping you can make it a regular booking.’

  ‘Wow. That’s great,’ Crystal says. ‘I’m definitely going to get those pink polo shirts now. I could take some make-up in next week too. A few of the ladies asked about that.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say to Joy.

  ‘It’s not going to pay your bills, but it’s a start.’