by Vivien Brown
He hovered while she poured the water into the only vase she owned and started to trim the ends off the stems. It had been a long while since anyone had bought her flowers. The occasional grateful patient, which didn’t really count, but it had never been Kevin’s thing. Paul had avoided the obvious red roses cliché and opted for white. She liked that. She had a good feeling about this evening.
‘You can sit down, if you want.’
‘No, I’m all right. I’d rather stand here and watch you. There’s something very soothing, very captivating, about watching a woman arranging flowers. The soft petals, the soft hands, easing each bloom into just the right position …’
‘Paul!’ She giggled. ‘You must see it all the time, in church. All those little old ladies from the WI with their carnations and chrysanthemums, helping to decorate the altar.’
‘Not quite the same, believe me.’
Laura didn’t know what to say after that. He obviously liked her, and she liked him too – a lot. But she felt on dodgy ground. This was new territory, scary territory, but tonight she was determined to forget he was a vicar and just pretend he was an ordinary boyfriend, to act just as she would on any other first date. She would go with the flow, have fun, not worry about where it all might lead. Just enjoy the ride, as her friend Fiona would say. Far more important – most of the time – than the destination.
But tonight did have a destination. It was called The White Bear. When they arrived, pushing past the motorbikes lined up outside and making their way into a small crowded room with closed curtains, a bare wooden floor and a rather dusty air, the first person she saw was Fiona.
Paul went straight to the bar for drinks and Laura pushed her way through to grab her friend by the arm. A leather-clad arm, too! ‘What are you doing here? Not come to spy on me and the rev, have you?’
‘You should be so lucky. No, I do, surprisingly, have a date of my own tonight. A real-life proper one, not the internet kind. And with a very hunky bloke. You’ve met him, actually.’
‘I have?’
‘The other night, in the pub, when you only had eyes for one particular person, and therefore clearly missed the fact that I had managed to pull too!’
‘Not … Er … What’s his name? Ian? Paul told me his friend had asked for your number.’
‘The very same! And, no, before you ask, he is not a vicar.’ She swung her arm around, in a sweeping gesture that encompassed the crowd pressing in around them. ‘Although half the room are, apparently. You’d never guess, would you? That all this rock and roll, motorbikes and beer stuff goes on behind closed doors down at the chapel. I’ve been here about half an hour already, and they are a very nice crowd. Not that many vicars, to be honest,I may have exaggerated a bit! But the ones that are vicars are all very normal. Do you know, I think I might just have struck lucky this time. With Ian. Third date already! We’ve been out three nights in a row – yes, I know, I should have told you – and I really, really like him. Beats internet hook-ups any day. And I don’t think he’s going to suddenly run out on me or leave me sitting like a wallflower paying my own bar bill either.’
‘About time you nabbed yourself a good one. You certainly did keep it quiet. No hint. Not like you at all. And three nights in a row, as well. He must be keen. I’m pleased for you though, you dark horse you! Where is he?’
‘Getting ready to play. He’s the drummer.’
‘Then come and stand with us to watch them play. Can’t have you hanging about by yourself and getting into mischief. Going out with a rocker. Whatever next? This must make you some sort of groupie!’
‘No, I am certainly not going to play gooseberry to you two, not on your first date. And it’s okay, Ian’s already introduced me to plenty of people so I won’t be on my own. You just enjoy the show, girl. And whatever comes after!’ Then she was gone, back through the crowds, just as Paul returned with two halves and, linking his arm through hers, led her to a couple of stools with ‘Reserved’ signs on them, right up near the stage.
‘I thought you said standing room only?’
‘Perks of being mates with the band.’
‘Can you get me a seat at the front in church too? Perks of being mates with the vicar?’ she laughed.
‘Any time, Laura. Any time. But we tend to call them pews, and I have to warn you they can be a bit hard on the bottom. Seriously, though, I’d really like you to come and see me at work.’
‘Only if you come and watch me cleaning out a bedpan!’
‘I think I might pass on that offer, thanks. But, you could come to little Lily’s christening. Watch me do my bit.’
‘I’d like that.’
‘You know, if it wasn’t for her, and Ruby, we might never have met. They don’t usually have much call for my services down in A & E.’
‘Not even for attempted suicides with a desperate urge to talk to God?’
‘It’s no good fishing, Laura. You know I am not going to tell you anything about Julie. Not that she told me anything scandalous. She just needed a shoulder to cry on. But, if she had, then it would have been in the strictest confidence.’
‘Spoilsport!’
The guitarists were warming up now, their strumming wailing out through enormous speakers, one of them right next to her head, and Ian was settling into his seat, flexing his drumming muscles. Laura could see Fiona at the other side of the small makeshift stage, her eyes fixed on him as if he were a real rock god and this was Glastonbury or Wembley, not a backstreet pub charging a fiver to get in.
No, if it wasn’t for what had happened to poor Ruby she wouldn’t have met Paul, it was true. There’s usually some good to come out of the bad, if you stayed open to the possibilities life throws at you. Clouds with silver linings and all that. Fiona wouldn’t have met Ian either. Or not yet, anyway. Fate had a habit of bringing the right people together in the end though, if it was meant to be. She’d watched Sliding Doors, and cried at the end, plenty of times. As Paul squeezed her hand and smiled at her, sending a lovely warm safe glow right through her, she wondered if that was what was happening here. Something that was meant to be.
Then the band launched full steam ahead into their music, so loud that her hands flew up to cover her ears and she could feel the floor shake, and Paul was rocking on his stool, one arm slung loosely across her shoulders and, after that, it was impossible to hear herself think at all.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Ruby
I’ve been thinking a lot, about what Laura said. Lying here, hour after hour, not always being able to sleep, it’s all I can do. Think.
It’s going to be odd not being with Lily on her birthday. It’s not as if she’s had many of them, and this one will probably be the first one she really remembers. I mean, I don’t remember much from before I was three. You don’t, do you? I hope that means that the time she was on her own in the flat without me will fade and blur and eventually disappear too. I’d hate her to have nightmares about it, to feel I let her down, that I did a bad thing, didn’t care. I’ve had enough of that when I think of my own mother, and it still hurts, even after all this time.
Family is so important. Having people you can rely on, who stand by you, whatever you do. Lily has a lot of years ahead of her until she’s grown up. She’s going to need us. All of us. Me, Geri, Michael, maybe even Patsy. I shudder at the thought. It’s not easy to change the way you think about something, or someone, but I know I have to try.
Geri says she’s going round to William’s house today, so she won’t be in to see me until evening visiting. William, the man who found Lily, and rescued her. She says she may bring him in with her, as she doesn’t have the car. Not right to keep leaving him out in the car park or hugging a coffee in the canteen. It’s time I met him properly, not just a nod every now and then at the flats when he’s been visiting his mother and we’ve passed in the hall. I’d like to get to know him, and to thank him.
She’s helping him to sort out what food to get f
or this little party they’re having tomorrow, using his kitchen to make a birthday cake, childproofing the living room! I’ve told her where to find a couple of phone numbers, scribbled on a pad at home, of mothers I’ve met at the nursery. Just a few other kids for Lily to play with will make it more like a proper party for her. Not just grown-ups sipping sherry and wearing gaudy paper hats. I should have told her not to get balloons though. Lily’s always been scared of them, but maybe Geri will remember that. Somehow I think she will.
Michael’s still not back from Poison Patsy’s – no, I mustn’t call her that, not any more – so Lily will be with Geri today, at William’s. It’ll be good for her to have a garden to play in. And she loves helping with the baking. Give her a spoon to lick and she’s in Heaven.
It’s going to be a good life for us, going home with Geri. Having a garden, making cakes, earning my own money, can all become an everyday part of life again. The fresh air, and the fresh start, we both need. If Social Services will let me. If they believe me. But they will, I know they will, because I have Geri now, there to stick up for me, love me, care about me. Like the daughter she never had.
Bandages off tomorrow. Won’t be long now.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
‘What will you do about the business side of things, when you hand over the shop?’ William took the coffee mug Geraldine offered him and eased his aching back into an armchair. This lawn mowing lark was a bit more strenuous than he had expected. ‘I’m sure Ruby will relish being behind the counter, but I don’t suppose she’s going to be much of a whizz with the accounts, is she?’
‘She’s bright. She’ll learn. Teaching her should keep me busy and involved for a while longer, I shouldn’t wonder.’
‘Only, I was thinking … I know you don’t enjoy it, any of it, any more, and you obviously want out. I do have rather a lot of time on my hands since the redundancy, and it is my speciality. Small businesses …’
‘William, are you offering to help? It’s very good of you, but we really don’t have the funds to pay you.’
‘Who said anything about money?’
‘I couldn’t possibly let you do that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, we’re in Brighton and you’re in London, for a start.’
‘Not for much longer.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We’ve decided we’re moving out, my mother and I. We’ve had enough of London, had enough of doing what other people want us to do. Well, what my ex-wife wanted us to do, to be precise.’
‘Really? This all sounds very sudden. Where will you go?’
‘Not at all sure yet. But I was thinking a bit of sea air might do us both good. Perhaps we’ll pop down for a holiday, pay you all a visit, while we wait for the estate agents to do their job. You never know, if we like what we see, we might even move down permanently.’
‘To Brighton?’
‘Yes, to Brighton. Why not? I love a good seaside town, and they don’t come any better, do they? But, one step at a time. Do you know, I haven’t had a proper holiday in years. Time to treat myself, have a little fun. Brighton could be just the place.’
‘With your mother in tow? Oh, I’m sorry, that sounded horribly rude. I didn’t mean …’
‘I know what you meant. She’ll be fine. A bit of bracing sea air, a good dinner inside her and a TV in her room, and she’ll be in bed asleep by half past nine every night. So, if you’re interested in going for the odd drink, or maybe a meal, while we’re there, just let me know. As for the accounts, I’d enjoy the challenge. A good set of accounts books to get my teeth into again. I might even start up again, go self-employed, look for new clients, generate a bit of income. Just part-time, you know, in between having a bit of a life of my own again. Maybe find an amateur dramatics group to join too, once I’m settled somewhere. I used to enjoy that sort of thing, although I never did find the courage to audition for a proper part!’
‘Sounds fun. And, yes, a night out would be lovely. If you’re down our way, I mean.’ She looked down, as if inspecting a stain on the carpet, not quite willing to look at his face. ‘I haven’t really been out socially since my Ken died. But I’d like to. With you, I mean. It’s time I got out and about again. All work and no play makes Jill a dull … Oh, whatever it is they say. But the accounts … I’m not sure “a good set” is quite the right way to describe mine. That’s the trouble.’
‘Well, we’ll see what we can do about that, shall we? And about getting you out and about again too. Now, haven’t you got icing a cake to get back to? Lily will have made a terrible mess of my kitchen if you don’t go and supervise her soon!’
He watched her walk back to the kitchen, heard Lily squeal excitedly at something she said, took a long sip from his mug, and closed his eyes. Where had all that come from? About going to Brighton? When he’d come in from the garden and sat down, he’d had no idea he was going to suggest a holiday, let alone the possibility of moving down there for good. But now he came to think of it, it really wasn’t a bad idea. Brighton fitted the bill. It made sense. It was a good-sized town, with a beach, nice shops, countryside all around. His mother would love it. He would love it. And it was where Geraldine lived, which really was the proverbial icing on the cake. With candles on!
*
Patsy rolled over in the hotel bed and reached for her knickers, which seemed to have disappeared under a mound of quilt somewhere down by her feet.
‘Was it naughty of us not to tell your mother we’re back? Expecting her to have Lily for another night?’
‘What would you prefer? To have Lily here all night, in the bed between us? We could drive round and get her if you like. Not the ideal introduction to her future stepmum though. No, Mum loves having her. She wouldn’t have minded, even if we had told her.’
‘Then why didn’t we?’
‘Because, my beautiful fiancée, I wanted you all to myself for one more night. Without my mother knowing every move I make, or your family listening to every sound from the other side of the bedroom door. Just us. You and me. Going to bed in the middle of the afternoon, making as much noise as we like, not having to explain ourselves to anyone or fit in with other people’s rules, and pretending we don’t have a care in the world. Which, for tonight at least, we don’t. Now, get your arse out of this bed and put your glad rags on. We are going out to find ourselves a bottle of champagne and the biggest steak this town has to offer.’
‘I don’t know how you can, after that huge meal last night.’
‘I’ll have you know that a young virile man such as myself can always find room for a juicy steak! It’s what keeps our blood levels up … And other bits of our anatomy! Last night’s dinner was about getting to know your parents, hoping they’ll accept me. It wasn’t really about enjoying the food, was it? Although I did, of course. At those prices, I was bloody well determined to. Do you think they did? Accept me?’
‘You asked me much the same thing on the boat. Yes, I think so. You’re not the big bad wolf any more, that’s for sure. Whether you’ve quite progressed to Prince Charming we’ll have to wait and see.’
‘Well, come on then, Cinderella. You can’t go to the ball as you are. Losing a glass slipper’s one thing, turning up having lost your underwear is another matter entirely, although it could make for an interesting under-the-table game in the restaurant!’
‘You are very naughty, Michael Payne. But I love you.’
‘In that case, don’t bother putting them on. Leave them exactly where they are. Because I love you too. And I’m going to show you just how much. Give us a kiss, Mrs Payne-to-be. The steak can wait.’
*
By Sunday morning, the garden was looking, if not exactly perfect, then at least neat and tidy. The grass was cut, the worst of the weeds hacked down, and William had even discovered a rather nice rose bush he’d completely forgotten was there. Not only set for a party, but all ready for the estate agents too, to take their photos and st
art showing off the assets of his home to the buying public.
He’d finally met Ruby last night. A nice girl. And so young to be carrying so much trouble on her shoulders. She’d rather tentatively asked him to be a godfather at Lily’s christening, which had thrown him completely. He’d saved Lily’s life, she’d said, and she wanted Lily always to know that, and to know him. The more he thought about the idea, the more he liked it. He had grown fond of the little girl, and being the one who had found her still gave him a weird feeling of pride that he thought might never leave him. He felt connected to her, unlikely ever to forget her, so, why not? It would give him the perfect excuse to stay connected, no matter how loosely, with Geraldine too.
The bouncy castle was ready at the bottom of the garden, in front of the tumbledown shed, its long power cables winding their way along the edge of the flower border, its constant blowing sounds surprisingly calming, and, despite a few threatening clouds, the sun was just about out and looking like it might decide to stay.
His mother was parked in a garden chair, the upright kind because of her knees, with a cup of tea and a bun, and Michael had just arrived with his fiancée in tow, Geraldine doing her best to be nice to her. The bells from a local church were ringing out somewhere behind the trees. Lily had been put upstairs in the hope she might take a nap and save her energy for the afternoon, but she kept creeping back down again, much to everyone’s amusement. The other children were not due for another couple of hours at least, but a plastic-covered table of mini-food, much of it sweet and pink and covered in layers of cling film, already awaited them in the dining room.
So, this was what family life felt like. The generations all brought together, on assorted mismatched chairs, in a garden that smelt of newly-mown grass and last-minute baking. Too many people buzzing about, trying to help, getting in each other’s way. The expectation of visitors, and conversation and fun. He knew he had missed out on so much, but it wasn’t too late, was it? Surely, this, today, proved that it was never too late.
