by Nancy Barone
Because losing The Mausoleum ahead of schedule had not been part of the plan. Everyone would suffer for it. Even Connor would be inconvenienced as he’d have to go earlier than discussed. But in all honesty, I think we would suffer his loss more than he ours, because, let’s face it – I knew he would be absolutely fine with finding somewhere else – he didn’t need us. One landlady or another was all the same for a tenant, but what about the effect his absence would have on the girls?
After years of being shy and closed to most people, Zoe was finally opening up and Amy was at last calming down. They seemed to be getting along better than ever, Amy being more patient towards Zoe, and Zoe not resenting Amy so much. The unnatural antagonism between them had, under his influence, gradually decreased. All because they wanted to please him. There was no activity he offered that Zoe wasn’t confident in doing, and nothing that Amy found in the least boring. With Connor’s easy, natural charm and warmth he had unwittingly brought my nieces closer to each other, especially in this time during which their mother’s absence was prolonged. He was the absolute child whisperer.
But not only children loved him. Mum was like young girl again in his presence. I’d never seen her act like a woman woman, only a mother. An exhausted, disillusioned, disenchanted mother who had given up encouraging us and who found it easier to chastise and take sides. Connor, with his naughty banter, had reawakened the girl inside her. He had given her back the smile she’d lost. He’d given her back a piece of her life.
Even Sarah, who had seen him as the enemy from day one, was finally warming to him. Although she still did continue to fight in Neil’s corner, convinced that Mummy and Daddy were just going through a rough patch and that one day we would start going back to our family picnics under the rainbow.
I understood where she was coming from, of course. Truly, I did. But just how healthy was clinging to a false idea of her parents’ idyllic marriage, especially when she had the dregs of her own relationship as testimony that nothing was forever?
And myself? What effect did Connor have on me, besides the obvious? And moreover, how long could I continue ignoring the way my body reacted to him whenever he was around? Quickening heartbeat, sweaty palms and dry mouth could no longer be ascribed to stress only. Not when all he had to do was smile and I was mush.
And there was me thinking that after the divorce things were finally going to go well and that I’d have it all together. If anything, I was an absolute emotional disaster and in total shits-ville.
The doorbell rang and I went to answer it. It was Neil, with that huge leather bag of his, come to check on his mum. Again.
‘Good afternoon, Nat. You’re looking very lovely,’ he said. ‘New haircut?’
‘No. Mum’s in the living room.’
‘She likes it in there a lot, lately.’
I followed him to where Mum was sitting with an unobstructed front-row view of Connor at work in the garden once again. He was on a mission, and after erecting the fences and creosoting them, he was planting flowers in the flowerbeds and tidying up the borders. He was doing a great job, actually. My garden had never looked this loved.
‘Does that man not own any trousers?’ Neil asked. ‘And has he not got a job to go to?’
I suppressed a grin. ‘Connor works from home. And he’s committed to taking care of the garden.’
Neil’s face looked like he’d been sucking on a sour lemon. He would be very happy if Connor went, of course. Neil would also be pleased if I had to sell the house, too, because, as much as he loved it and missed living here, it would once and for all prove what he’d been claiming for years – that I couldn’t survive without him. And that I had made a mistake of biblical proportions in leaving him, when instead I should have grinned and borne being his doormat. In his twisted, male chauvinistic mind, what woman wouldn’t want to be married to a GP who has a great yearly income? In his mind it was all about the money and the success, leaving no room whatsoever for dreams, the soul, and love.
‘Good afternoon, Mum. You’re looking very lovely today. Is that a new dress?’
I rolled my eyes. He seemed determined to get back into our good books. It was a shame he had no originality whatsoever. Mum shot me an amused glance and I was happy that for the moment she was lucid.
‘No, Neil. I don’t have the money for a new dress. This one here—’ she nodded in my direction ‘—keeps me in rags and feeds me garbage for food. You’d think that with my nest egg I’d be living like a queen, but does she let me?’
My heart shot to my chest. ‘Mum, what are you saying?’ And in front of him, to boot!
Neil turned around and gave me an inquisitive glare.
She must be having one of her moments, I mouthed to Neil, who didn’t look at all convinced.
Neil turned to take her blood pressure.
‘You’d think she was the rich one, the way she spends all my money,’ she continued.
‘Mum, you know that isn’t true…’ How could it be true? I would never in a million years do that – steal her money. I knew she was ill, but to even hear the words leave her mouth, and to see the way she was looking at me after I’d struggled in vain for so many years to make things better between us?
I hadn’t even been to the bank yet, but had paid her bills out of my own pocket just to save time. And this was what I got?
When Neil was done, I jerked my head in the direction of the kitchen, and he snapped his bag shut and followed me.
‘It’s ridiculous, what she said, of course,’ I told him.
His face was impassive. ‘Then why defend yourself?’ he asked and my head snapped up to stare at him.
‘You think it’s true? Do you actually—’
‘It doesn’t matter what I think, Nat. You told me very clearly that your life is your life. Are you spending Mum’s money on him?’ he asked, nodding at Connor outside.
I felt my jaw drop. ‘What?’
‘Because I don’t see you suffering too much for our divorce. And if anything, you are much too preoccupied with yourself to take care of your mother,’ he sentenced. ‘And this bloke – The Face – what the hell’s going on between you? Are you sleeping with him or not?’
I felt my left eye twitch. ‘What’s it to you?’
‘Meaning you are. Christ, Nat – you’ve known this bloke what – five minutes? He could be anybody!’
‘He’s not anybody.’
‘Then who is he? What do you exactly know about him?’
I knew a lot about him. I knew about his goals and passions. I knew that he loved his family, his job, the sea, all kinds of sports. And helping others. I knew that he was kind and caring and manly and handsome and helpful – more than Neil had ever been.
I sighed. ‘I’m truly grateful for you being there for my mother and all, Neil, but as far as my private life is concerned, I don’t owe you any explanation. Not anymore.’
‘Because if you’re doing it for the money,’ he insisted as if he hadn’t even been listening to me, ‘take me back and I’ll take care of you.’
I did a double take and nearly snorted. ‘What?’
‘I’m serious, Nat. I made a mistake. You’ve made mistakes, too. Let’s forgive and forget and get back to how we used to be.’
‘First of all, you made the mistake. I was always loyal to you, God knows why. And second of all, I don’t want to go back to how we used to be.’
‘So you’d rather be with Mr I-can’t-find-my-clothes?’
‘Why do you hate him so much, Neil?’
‘Because he’s bad news, Nat. He’s no good for you.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘What are you on about? You are greatly mistaken about Connor and me. Not that there is a Connor and me, but even if there were, it would still not be any of your business.’
A flinch belied his passive face. ‘You are my business, and so is Mum.’
‘Again – she is not your mum!’
‘Who’s taking care of her? Me. I’m her GP
and I’m responsible for her health.’
‘That doesn’t give you the right to make her decisions – or mine.’
‘Nat – I’m just worried about you all. Look at this poor family since you kicked me out. Sarah’s split up with Sam, Lizzie has moved in with a bloke she hardly knows—’
‘Liam is lovely and he loves her,’ I defended. ‘And her choices are her own. I won’t be like my mother who would dictate my private life.’
—and Yolanda has definitely decided to dump her problems on you,’ he continued as if he hadn’t even heard me. ‘As usual. And even your mum is rebelling. Why do you think she’s like that?’
My eyebrows shot into my hairline; I could feel them. ‘You’re blaming our divorce for Mum’s condition? Do you even hear yourself, Neil?’
He shrugged. ‘Tension and stress lower the immune system, opening the body to all sorts of illnesses.’
‘Neil – just so you know, the person who was the least stressed and troubled by our divorce was my mum. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.’
He turned to glare at me as I walked him to the door and practically threw him out. Gosh, that had felt good.
I sauntered back into the orangery, feeling rather proud of myself.
Mum looked up at me with those incredibly blue eyes and for a moment, it was like she was herself again. I could only hope that it would last a little longer than two minutes this time. And then she turned her head and looked out into the garden, her eyes losing focus as if her lucidity was slipping away again.
‘Mum? Are you okay? What are you thinking about?’
‘I’m not thinking, I’m drooling.’
‘Drooling?’
‘Over the hot new gardener.’
I followed her gaze to where Connor was. ‘Mum, he’s not a gardener.’
‘You’ve got that right. Never seen such dry lemon trees.’
‘Mum, that’s a Japanese maple.’
‘If you don’t water them, they’ll die, you know.’
I sighed. God, please give me the patience to be up to this task, especially as things get worse and worse. By the looks of it, she was running pretty quickly through Dr Simpson’s stages.
*
‘Nat, I was thinking,’ Connor said later as I was making soup and sandwiches for everyone’s lunch. ‘The girls are going to be here all summer, right? And what with your mum and work and all, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind if I built the girls a tree house around that huge oak tree at the bottom of the garden?’
I looked up from my cutting board. ‘Tree house? Connor, that’s very kind of you, but isn’t it a lot of work? And what happens when I sell the house?’
‘It can be taken apart and reassembled somewhere else,’ he said. ‘The girls could help me. My treat.’
‘But I can’t accept that, Connor – it’s too much money.’
‘It won’t cost much if I build it from scratch. But I insist on paying for it. As a way to thank you for opening your home and family to me. What do you think?’
I debated. ‘Undoubtedly it would keep them out of trouble. But wouldn’t you like some more time to yourself to do what you like? Your surfing or…?’
He grinned, reaching for a pile of plates from the cupboard. ‘This is what I like, Nat. I’m a family man at heart. I miss my own family and nieces and nephews. With all of you, it’s like I never left home.’
‘Okay, then. If that’s what you want to do, I’m more than grateful. But no pressure. If you get fed up, you send the girls back to me, okay?’
He nodded towards them. ‘How could I ever get fed up with them? Just look at those little darlings. Be right back. I’m going to check the winds.’
‘The winds?’
‘Yeah. I need to see how sturdy the tree is, and figure out at what height to place the tree house.’
‘Oh. Okay. Check away.’
He slid me a grin and sauntered off down the length of the garden, stopping a few yards before the tree and lifting his head to watch the higher branches swaying in the wind.
At that exact moment, my mobile rang and I glanced at the screen. My heart jumped into my throat. Octavia The Hound, returned to take another bite out of me.
I went outside and sat at the patio table. ‘Hello, Octavia?’
‘No, it’s Trish, Miss Hounslow’s new secretary.’
New secretary? Whatever had happened to Cathy? Well, apparently this was the week of Out With the Old and In With the New.
‘Oh yes?’ I knew The Hound would have left the dirty job of sacking me to someone else, and it didn’t really matter whether I got canned by a twenty-something-year-old editor-in-chief or her PA.
‘I’ve been asked to call you in to London. You need to sign some, er, papers. Tomorrow morning at nine?’
Meaning I’d have to get up at four in the morning just to go and get fired in person. Jesus in heaven.
‘I’ll be there.’
‘Goodbye, then,’ she sing-songed and hung up. Of course. What did she care if I got sacked? I was no longer indispensable. I was almost forty going on a hundred and three. God, how I missed Hilary.
I never needed an appointment to speak to my old boss, and we’d often have lunch together and she’d sound my new ideas out and nod enthusiastically, cackling in delight. She had always loved That’s Amore! and because of that I’d always had free rein to do as I pleased. My readers had always loved my column. But now my readers would never be able to read it again.
At this point I’d have to prepare my goodbye statement, the one where I’d be telling my readers that I wouldn’t be in the next issue. They’d flip through the magazine and it wouldn’t be there. I’d flip through the magazine and see that all my ideas and jokes weren’t there. The idea I’d had for the sexy house-husband. Or the one about trying to NOT keep up with the Joneses.
Thirteen years of what had been considered a witty contribution on my behalf. And thirteen years of validation, when everyone else around me, from Neil to Yolanda to my own mother just shook their heads. And before I knew it, a lump formed in my throat.
I looked up to see Connor pulling his working gloves off with his teeth and coming to sit opposite me at the table, placing his hand on my shoulder.
‘Hey, Nat, what’s that face? Are you okay?’ he said, taking my elbows.
I nodded, making an effort to breathe evenly.
‘You’re all right, just take a deep, deep breath…’
I did as I was told. In. Out. In. Out.
‘Better?’
I looked up at his concerned face and made an effort to smile as I lied. ‘Better. Thank you.’
‘No, you’re not, Nat. Stop trying to be brave.’
I rolled my eyes dismissively. ‘I’ll be okay. It’s just all piling up and I’m – I just got a call to go into work. Probably to get sacked.’
‘Awh, geez. Do you want me to call that lawyer friend now?’
I shook my head. ‘No, that’s okay, Connor, thank you, but if my editor doesn’t like my work, there’s no point.’
He shook his head in sympathy. ‘I don’t understand what’s wrong with it. It’s funny, witty and so mischievous. How can she not like it?’
‘Again, it lacks the modern, sexy edge, I guess.’
‘And that’s what sells, huh? But what about the adorable, sweet, quirky women who don’t care about any of that crap?’ he said, and when I looked up into his face again, it was as if he’d figured me out already.
I felt the blush creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. ‘Women like us are not modern and sexy, I guess…’
At that, he chuckled, that twinkle back in his eye. ‘I wouldn’t have any doubts about the latter, Nat.’
I stared at him in surprise. Now he starts flirting with me? Not that I minded the attention, of course, but we both knew he could have any twenty-something-year-old he wanted. Why bother with me?
‘Nah,’ I said. ‘You want modern and sexy, you choose my sister
Yolanda. She’s the kind of woman Octavia would swoon over. Always perfect, and never a hair out of place, always perfectly made-up.’
‘Well, she may be pretty, but she’s nothing compared to you,’ he said.
I sat up. ‘Me?’
‘You,’ he simply said, and I couldn’t help but notice his ears were turning red.
‘Thanks, Connor, but I’m not. I used to be, when I was a girl.’
‘Well, I can imagine that you were pretty as a girl, but if I may say so without seeming forward, you are a downright stunner now.’
Flames began to lick at the base of my neck, spreading into my ears. ‘Sto-op,’ I said, giggling, silently willing him to go on.
‘I’m serious. Do you actually look at yourself in the mirror? You could easily pass for Sarah and Lizzie’s sister.’
I snorted. ‘Yeah, good one. But thanks, I appreciate the boost.’
‘And you’re talented as hell. I’ll bet your boss won’t fire you. So stop worrying about it. Try to relax.’
‘I will, thank you.’
He studied me. ‘There’s something else bothering you, Nat, isn’t there?’
I huffed. ‘You’re right. It’s not just work. It’s my sister. She’s thinking of buying Mum’s cottage and turning it into her workspace.’
‘But what about your mum? Surely you don’t want to sell her home?’
‘I have to,’ I whispered. ‘Her pension isn’t enough and until I can sell my own home I can’t afford her upkeep.’
‘Shouldn’t Yolanda be helping out?’
‘Yes, well, this is her way of helping. And if she does buy it, there’s no way I can buy Lavender Cottage with her staff constantly working next door.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Yolanda usually gets what she wants. She’s the one with the money and until I can shift this house I can’t buy the cottage. I really don’t need this huge mausoleum to remind me of… Anyway, I also wanted to give Lizzie and Sarah some money to get onto the property ladder themselves.’
