Hilary dialled Sue’s number, but not surprisingly got no response. She left a message, and sent a text just to be sure. She wouldn’t put it past Sue to say she’d got no voice message.
Hilary had booked an Aer Lingus flight leaving at 2 p.m. The girls were packed and all ready to go; she’d just pop over to the shops and get a few groceries for Margaret to keep her going, she decided. She could get the taxi to make a detour and drop them off on the way to the airport.
‘It’s a pity we’re going to London because of something sad.’ Sophie lifted the two bags of shopping from the checkout counter and followed Hilary to the exit.
‘We’ll try and make the most of it, and we’ll do our best to cheer Jonathan up,’ Hilary promised.
‘It’s ages since we had a girls’ adventure!’ Sophie observed.
Hilary felt a dart of guilt. Sophie was right. She needed to start spending more time with her daughters before they flew the nest. Millie would be going to college in the autumn. She could hardly believe how the years had flown by. ‘Let’s try and have a few jaunts this summer when Millie has finished her exams. How about a spa day sooner rather than later?’
‘Nice,’ Sophie approved and Hilary smiled. She would definitely organize that in the near future. There was a tangible air of excitement as they all piled into the taxi a while later. The unexpectedness of the trip added to the gaiety. This was what life was all about, Hilary thought as she listened to the girls discuss what they intended to buy in the duty free. Although it was far from trips to London and duty-free sprees she’d been brought up to, she thought in amusement. They took it all so much for granted.
‘Hello, Gran,’ she said cheerfully, when Margaret opened the door to her knock ten minutes later.
‘Good gracious, I wasn’t expecting visitors,’ her mother-in-law said, flustered.
‘We’re not visitors, Gran,’ Millie declared, bending down to give her grandmother a kiss.
‘It’s a flying visit, Gran, cos we’re actually going to be flying in about an hour and a half,’ Sophie grinned. ‘We’re going to London on a surprise visit. The taxi’s waiting for us at the gate.’
‘Oh that’s exciting, Sophie,’ Margaret said brightly, kissing them all.
‘I just wanted to drop in a few bits and pieces to tide you over until we get back on Saturday, Mrs H. I’ll pop them in the fridge.’ Hilary took the bags from Sophie and walked into the kitchen and began to unpack the shopping.
‘That’s very kind of you, dear. Very kind. Now how much do I owe you?’ Margaret followed Hilary into the kitchen.
‘I’ll put the receipt on the counter and you can give it to me on Saturday,’ Hilary said, packing away the cartons of Ambrosia creamed rice that her mother-in-law was particularly partial to. Margaret was scrupulous about paying her bills and Hilary always took the money, not because she was mean about money but to respect her mother-in-law’s dignity and independence.
‘I’m very grateful for all you do for me, Hilary. You’re so thoughtful. I know you’re so busy and I take up so much of your time,’ Margaret said and Hilary turned to look at her and saw that her lip was trembling.
‘Mrs H! What’s wrong?’ she exclaimed in dismay, putting her arms around the elderly lady as Sophie and Millie looked at their grandmother in alarm.
‘Nothing, dear. I’m just a terrible old nuisance and it bothers me that you have to do so much for me when you’re so busy yourself,’ Margaret said tremulously. ‘And I know Niall and Sue are very busy too—’
‘Now, Mrs H, you listen to me, we are never too busy for you,’ Hilary said firmly.
‘But you can’t all be taking time off to bring me to appointments and the like. I’m going to start going by myself from now on. Other people have to, so can I,’ Margaret said shakily. Hilary’s lips tightened. Sue! She must have said something to her mother about bringing her to the warfarin clinic.
She could have kicked herself. She should have known that Sue would pull a stunt like this. The selfish madam. When she got back from London she was going to give that one a piece of her mind, she vowed furiously, trying to hide her anger from Margaret.
‘Don’t be worrying about your appointments; we’ll sort something out,’ she said kindly. ‘Now why don’t I make you a quick cuppa to have with one of the scones I got for you, and I bought you the latest Hello! You can keep it for me and I’ll get it off you when I get back.’ She gave her mother-in-law another hug. She knew the meter was running in the taxi but to hell with it. She wanted to make sure Margaret felt cherished and reassured before she left. ‘Millie, butter a scone for your gran while I make the tea,’ she instructed.
‘Gran, you are never to call yourself a nuisance again,’ Sophie said sternly. ‘You’re our gran and we love you very much.’
‘We certainly do, Gran,’ Millie assured her, adding an extra-large spoon of strawberry jam to the scone, just the way Margaret liked it. ‘And I’m going to get you something nice from London.’
‘Now don’t go spending your money on me,’ warned her grandmother, recovering her composure and enjoying the cuddle Sophie gave her. ‘Thank you, dear, that was just what I needed.’
‘We’ll be home Saturday and we’d love you to come to lunch on Sunday to tell you all about our trip. I’ll come and collect you,’ Hilary invited, carrying the tray into Margaret’s sitting room and placing it on the side table beside her armchair. She waited until Margaret was settled with her magazine and bent down and kissed her. ‘You are very, very dear to us. Don’t forget that now. I’ll ring you tonight,’ she said.
‘I’ll look forward to it, Hilary.’ Margaret patted her cheek and Hilary thought how sad it was that she didn’t have a warm relationship with her only daughter.
‘It’s horrible being old, isn’t it?’ Millie reflected as they drove away from her grandmother’s house.
‘Some people have better experiences of old age than others,’ Hilary said grimly, wishing she could have ten minutes alone with Sue. ‘Anyway forget about being old for the time being. We’re on a girls’ jolly, so let’s have fun. We’ll have to lift Jonathan’s spirits for sure, so we need to be in tiptop form.’ She smiled at her daughters and put thoughts of Sue aside. She would deal with her when she got home.
Jonathan gazed out the window of his fifth-floor hotel room at the green, almost rural vista spread out before him. It was hard to believe he was in the middle of a bustling metropolis. The gilt-edged gates of Kensington Palace bathed in the midday sun brought back memories of massed banks of flowers laid in tribute to the beautiful, tragic princess who had lived there. The blue of the Round Pond between blossom-sprigged branches giving a vivid splash of colour to the green palette of the park. The elegance of the dome of the Albert Hall and the skyline of south London in the distance a reminder that he was in one of the world’s greatest cities. Below him, Londoners and tourists strolled, skated, jogged and strode along the pathways, or sat and relaxed under the warming sun on the grassy emerald swards of the spring-dressed park. They all seemed so carefree, untroubled even. Not like him: sad, dispirited, and entirely disenchanted with life.
He could pull the heavy drapes on the sunlight, whose bright gaiety seemed like an affront to his desolation, and go for a snooze on the inviting bed, he supposed. He hadn’t slept the previous night and Hilary wouldn’t arrive until late afternoon. He had a sinus headache to boot and his eyes and cheeks ached. He needed to take something for it or it would only get worse. He remembered going to a Boots beside M&S the last time he had stayed in the Royal Garden; he might as well go and stock up on his meds, he decided, and then go for a nap.
The noise of the High Street jarred as he emerged through the revolving doors in the foyer, and was asked by a courteous doorman if he required a taxi. He decline politely and walked down the marble steps and turned right, wincing at the roar of the heavy traffic and the fast-paced gaits of the other pedestrians. His head throbbed. He wanted to get back to the peace of his room
fast.
I just don’t fancy you that way. It was the casual utterance of those heart-piercing words, in so public an arena, that seemed so cruel. Leon had given no thought to the effect his admission might have on Jonathan, and that hurt almost as much as the words themselves. He must have known Jonathan had feelings for him despite his protestations that he thought they were just friends. It was painfully obvious now that Leon had used Jonathan, enjoying the meals out, the visits to the cinema and theatre that Jonathan had, more often than not, paid for when Leon would admit that he was broke because of his maintenance and mortgage expenses.
Jonathan crossed Kensington Church Street, and in spite of his misery, the sight of the flamboyant array of multihued blooms at the flower stall beside the impressive architectural elegance of St Mary Abbots momentarily banished his misery. He loved tulips and he decided to buy Hilary a bunch as a little token of his deep gratitude that she would fly to London to support him in his hour of need.
The arcade housing Boots was thronged with commuters heading in and out of the tube station and as he passed Marks’ Food Hall and Pret A Manger, he realized that he was actually a touch peckish. That was perhaps why his headache was worse than normal. He hadn’t eaten, apart from a cup of coffee in the Franklin. He bought Sinutabs and a packet of Nytol and some Rescue Remedy and crossed over to Pret. He grabbed a BLT and a Coke and paid for it and had his snack and a Sinutab sitting at one of the window seats staring unseeingly out at the busy concourse.
Nancy would be disappointed for him when he told her that Leon was not ‘the one’. He wondered what Hannah would say. One of the sayings of Florence Scovel Shinn, a teacher of metaphysics, came to mind. No man is my friend. No man is my enemy. Every man is my teacher. The Game of Life and How to Play It, the book she had written, had given him much food for thought over the years since Hannah had gifted it to him.
What was Leon’s rejection of him teaching him? he wondered miserably. He had to raise this incident to a higher level; otherwise he would wallow and drown in self-pity and sorrow. But he was only human – he wanted to wallow. All these spiritual teachers like Hannah were much more evolved and adept at dealing with life’s disasters than he was. He was still mired in the lower energy of life. He scowled as he made his way back through the arcade to Kensington High Street. Of course Hannah wouldn’t call this latest episode a disaster, he thought crossly. She’d call it ‘a growth opportunity’. Well he was fed up with having ‘growth opportunities’ through woe. He wanted his opportunities to come through joy. He was sick of all this rubbish that Hannah spouted every time he visited her. It was getting him nowhere, he raged, consumed with anger at his counsellor and her unpalatable take on things. He trudged along, heavy-hearted, until he got to the florist’s stall. He chose two bunches of glorious purple and yellow tulips and paid for them. Leon had bought him tulips the previous week when Jonathan had invited him to his apartment for a home-cooked dinner. How vibrant they had looked in the John Rocca vase on the table and how happy they had made him. Tears blurred his eyes and desperate not to be seen crying in the middle of a London high street he slipped through a side entrance to the high-spired church and wandered into the very small peaceful garden so many passed by without seeing. Clumps of snowdrops, tulips, daffodils and bluebells grew wild in the grass, under the shade of freshly budding trees. Outside the iron railings life surged on, but he felt protected and distanced from it all as the tears streamed silently down his cheeks and he leaned against a buttress that was hidden from view and cried his eyes out as though his heart would break. Waves of grief engulfed him. Why? he shouted silently. Why?
No answer came but a bird sang on a blossoming green branch that reached towards the high spire that pierced the blue Kensington sky. A measure of peace descended on Jonathan’s troubled spirit as he sat on a ledge and composed himself, oblivious to the noise and flurry that carried on relentlessly, just metres away.
‘I’m so excited. I can’t believe I’m in London,’ Sophie bubbled as they hurried along the narrow, grey, tubed structure that led from arrivals to the exit at Heathrow.
‘It’s lovely out too,’ Millie exclaimed as they emerged into the rounded glassed area and the sun gave hint to the welcome balminess that often occurred during springtime in London. Ten minutes later they were sitting on the Heathrow Express, delighted with themselves that they had made the departing train by the skin of their teeth, and would soon be winging their way to Paddington.
‘I’ll ring Jonathan when we’re in our taxi to the hotel,’ Hilary decided, rooting in her bag to turn on her phone.
‘Don’t forget to say I’m here, not we’re here!’ Millie reminded her.
‘Good thinking, wonder girl.’ Hilary grinned at her daughter.
‘Can we go to the London Eye?’ Sophie asked eagerly.
‘I don’t see why not,’ Hilary agreed as the whistle blew and the train chugged out of the station.
‘It’s nice being on a girls’ trip, all of us together.’ Sophie snuggled in affectionately against her mother.
‘It’s a real treat being with my two gorgeous daughters. I was just thinking that when you’ve finished the Leaving Cert, Millie, we’ll definitely go to Powerscourt Springs for an overnighter and some beauty treatments, the three of us.’
‘Cool.’ Millie’s eyes lit up.
‘I’m going to spend all my time in the pool and jacuzzi,’ Sophie declared, ‘and eating that scrumptious walnut bread you brought home the last time you were there.’ They laughed, and Hilary thought how blessed and lucky she was and hoped that she would always be as close to her daughters. Sue was missing out so much in her relationship with Margaret. It was a shame for both of them. Families were so different, she reflected. Hers wasn’t perfect but she was very thankful for a reasonably good relationship with her daughters and her own mother and sister.
‘Gosh I’d hate to live in a high-rise,’ Millie remarked after they had emerged from the tunnel and had sped through Southall and West Ealing.
‘It’s nice to have a garden,’ Sophie observed.
‘Yes, and one that’s so private. We’re very privileged and lucky,’ Hilary reminded them.
‘You know I don’t think you should ring Jonathan from Paddington,’ Millie said thoughtfully. ‘I think we should check in and you tell him to come up to the room and we can hide in the loo and surprise him.’
‘Yes,’ agreed her sister. ‘And I think we should buy a bottle of something to clink glasses, seeing as it’s our first time in London with him!’
‘Champagne!’ exclaimed Millie in anticipation.
‘Well perhaps not champagne,’ Hilary demurred. ‘Remember he’s very upset. Maybe a bottle of Prosecco.’
‘But can’t I have some too? I don’t want to be drinking 7 Up like a child!’ Sophie insisted.
‘Yes, seeing as it is a special occasion. But just the one glass,’ Hilary agreed.
‘Yaayyy!’ Sophie punched the air as the train drew to a halt at Platform 7.
‘You’re in your room! Brilliant, I’ll be there in five minutes. I just need to wash my face and wake myself up. I fell asleep on the bed,’ Jonathan said, yawning. ‘What number?’
‘346,’ Hilary said, grinning at her daughters who were exploring the contents of their mini bar.
‘Can’t wait to see you. I can’t believe this time yesterday I was deliriously happy. I feel like I’m in some sort of weird dream.’ He sighed deeply.
‘Let’s have a cuppa and a chat while I’m settling in, and decide what we’re going to do for the rest of the day. I’ll boil the kettle.’
‘Won’t be long,’ he assured her, flinging the throw off and padding into the bathroom to freshen up. At least he wasn’t on his own now. He could pour his heart out to Hilary, say what he liked about Leon and his own stupidity and know that she would provide a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
‘Why didn’t you get a double?’ Jonath
an asked when he followed Hilary into the room after giving her the tulips and hugging the daylights out of her.
‘I did,’ she told him, leading him to the seating area.
‘Did they make a mistake?’
‘Nope,’ Hilary grinned as the girls burst out of the bathroom yelling ‘Surprise! Surprise!’.
‘What are you two doing here?’ He was flabbergasted.
‘We are the Jonathan Harpur Rescue Society,’ giggled Sophie, barrelling across the room to throw her arms around him. ‘That Leon fella is a prize dodo!’
‘Yeah, a real loser.’ Millie added her tuppence worth, planting a kiss on his cheek and squeezing his hand.
‘Oh girls!’ gulped Jonathan. ‘I don’t know what to say!’ He burst into tears, much to Sophie’s horror.
‘Don’t cry, Jonathan. We love you,’ she said fiercely, holding him tight.
‘Sorry! Sorry! I feel a right eejit!’ He tried to compose himself.
‘You’re not an eejit,’ Millie assured him earnestly. ‘It’s horrible when a boy breaks your heart!’
‘You can say that again,’ Jonathan agreed with heartfelt emotion and they looked at each other and cracked up. Their laughter echoed around the room as they chortled and guffawed, Jonathan more loudly than any of them, his natural humour reasserting itself, and the release of pent-up tension a welcome relief.
‘Aw girls, you’re a tonic,’ he said, wiping his eyes, grinning at Hilary.
‘Time for a drop of sparkly to start the evening,’ she said, waving the bottle of Prosecco. ‘We thought champagne might be somewhat inappropriate but this will do the job.’ She rooted in the mini bar for glasses and asked Sophie to get the two out of the bathroom. She took some packets of nuts and snacks out of the bar and opened them, cracked open the Prosecco, poured the sparkling golden liquid into the glasses and handed one to Jonathan. ‘To a lucky escape, I’d say!’ She raised her glass.
A Time for Friends Page 28
