by Jo Verity
‘When’s he moving in?’ There was no point in holding out any longer.
‘He has to be out of his flat by the end of the month. That’s next Sunday. But I told him he can start bringing his things over whenever it’s convenient.’ She sat facing him, her hand reaching for his. ‘It’ll be fine, Jack. I promise.’ Her voice was gentler than it had been for months.
‘Yes. It’ll be fine.’ He raised his glass. ‘Here’s to our new lodger. Who knows, he may even be a dab hand at mowing lawns or washing cars.’
After supper, Caitlin rang and, whilst she chatted to Fay, Jack stacked the dishwasher and tidied the kitchen. He should phone to check whether Iolo had arrived safely but, having paid the driver forty pounds to take his friend home, there was little he could do about it either way. He was curious to know what Iolo would tell Zena and Non about their meeting – that was if he could recollect anything at all about it. It was touch and go if Iolo would remember where he had parked his car.
Fay returned after ten minutes. ‘Caitlin’s got the rest of the week off. She’s going to Derby tomorrow to visit Sarah Forrester. Remember Sarah? The one with greasy hair and no sense of direction.’
The description fitted the majority of Caitlin’s friends from student days, male and female. Jack had spent hours calling them by the wrong name and drawing simple maps to navigate them round the country. ‘Vaguely.’
‘She suggested I cadge a lift with her and spend a couple of days with Laura. It would be company for her on the drive and she’ll be more or less passing Laura’s door.’ Getting no immediate reaction she continued. ‘I know she was only here ten days ago…’
Oh, dear. Fay and Laura and endless hours of chatter. For an instant, a cloud crossed his clear blue sky, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. In nearly thirty years, Laura hadn’t divulged their secret, why would she do so now? And, joy of joys, Fay’s absence would provide an unplanned opportunity. ‘Of course, love. You must go. Take the chance while you can.’
‘You’ll be here if Neil wants to drop anything off, won’t you?’
Bugger. The roller coaster had reached the summit and was plummeting down again. ‘Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d rather you were around when he moves in. He’d probably find it a bit…awkward…here on his own with me. At least in the beginning. You know how useless men are at making small-talk.’
She crossed the kitchen and put her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. ‘That’s very thoughtful. You’re right. I’ll give him a ring and suggest he leave it until Saturday. I’ll be back by then and we’ll be able to make him feel properly at home.’
He kissed the top of her head, content that she would have a pleasant few days with her best friend and that he could, for an evening if not longer, get back to Llangwm.
16
Fay rang Laura first thing next morning.
‘Of course you must come,’ Laura replied. ‘Gosh. Three times in one month. What have we done to deserve it?’
We. Could Laura have picked up on her feelings for Cassidy? Fay didn’t go into it, not wanting anything to interfere with her unexpected opportunity to see him again.
She wasn’t best pleased therefore when, an hour later Laura, rang back. ‘You’ll never guess what. Ten minutes after I spoke to you, Isabel phoned for a chat. When I told her you were coming, she suggested she pop up, or down, or whatever she calls it, tomorrow. Just for the day. She’s got to get back for some big charity “do”. That’s okay with you, isn’t it?’
‘Lovely.’ Fay hadn’t appreciated that Laura and Isabel were quite so pally. ‘If Caitlin picks me up about twelve, we should be with you by, what, four-ish?’
The clothes she laid out on the bed were from her ‘new wardrobe’. The silk shirts – she wouldn’t take the pink one – and linen trousers were a nightmare to fold without creasing. It was a good job that Jack wasn’t hovering, asking why she needed so much for a two-night stay, and pointing out that Laura had turned up with just a toilet bag and a change of underwear. She felt a pang of guilt about abandoning him at such short notice, especially as he’d been so cheerful when he’d left for work. ‘Don’t worry about me, love. I may pop up and see Mum and Dad. Have a bite to eat with them. I promised Dad I’d give him a hand with something.’
They’d been travelling for over an hour before Caitlin got around to Neil Bentley.
‘What’s that all about, Mum?’
Fay had anticipated a grilling on the subject and had been trying to formulate a realistic explanation. This had proved to be quite difficult because she wasn’t sure, herself, why she’d offered to take him in. Seeing him in the kitchen in the Lennon tee-shirt, looking vulnerable and needy, had a lot to do with it. Then, once she’d addressed the problem of Kingsley’s room, the notion of sorting out a young man’s problems, albeit not her son’s, became progressively more appealing. Lots of people felt driven to acts of charity without being asked to explain their motives. That’s what it was, an act of charity.
‘Good gracious, I don’t know what all the fuss is about. It’ll only be for a few weeks. We’ve got masses of space and it’s not as if he’s a stranger.’ Put like that, it sounded perfectly reasonable.
‘Kingsley would be pleased. And surprised.’ Caitlin smiled. ‘I think it’s a great idea.’
It was true, Kingsley would be pleased, although she hadn’t considered him when she’d issued the invitation. It was just the sort of thing he might have done, but Kingsley would probably have taken it that bit too far and filled the house with deserving cases.
‘And remind me about Auntie Laura. I don’t want to put my foot in it. It seems a shame that she never married again. She must have had lots of offers.’
‘If she did she’s never talked about them. But then she wouldn’t. We lost touch for a while. I’m sure it’s because she didn’t want us to meet Sadie’s father.’
Caitlin grimaced, ‘Why d’you think that?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Isabel reckons he must have been a drug addict or something arty and disreputable. He can’t have been that nice, to have walked out on her when she’d just given birth to his baby.’
There was no sign of Cassidy’s car in the street outside Laura’s house and Fay smiled to hide her disappointment. By the time Caitlin was locking her car, Laura was on the pavement to greet them and she took Caitlin’s hands in hers, patting it. ‘This is lovely. We were so sorry to miss you when we came to Cardiff.’
Caitlin accepted the invitation to stay for a cup of tea and they followed Laura in to the house. ‘I’ll ring Sarah and let her know where I am. It shouldn’t take long from here.’ She went in to the back garden to make her call.
Laura hugged Fay, who was attempting to massage the creases out of her trousers.
‘Are you sure you’re not sick of the sight of me?’ Fay asked.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m really glad you came.’ She cupped her face in her palms. ‘To be honest I think it’s only these past few weeks that I’m coming to accept that Dad’s really gone so it’s good to have old friends around.’ They hugged again.
There were voices in the garden and Fay peered through the kitchen window. Cassidy, stripped to the waist, was carrying lengths of timber in through the back gate, which opened on to a lane running behind the terraced properties. He and Caitlin were laughing about something. She had steeled herself for this, recalling Cassidy’s interest in the family pictures in the hall. He’d said he didn’t care for ‘girly girls’, but Caitlin would soon be on her way to Derby.
‘…it’s not far and I think you’d find it interesting. We might go there tomorrow, if I can get this wretched thing sorted out.’ Laura pointed to the boiler on the wall near the sink. ‘It’s been on the blink since Monday. All my appliances have a built in gadget that makes them self-destruct at Bank Holidays.’ Fay hadn’t noticed until then that the kitchen was particularly chaotic. Piles of dirty crockery covered the worktops and there was a heap of tools and
a torch on the table. ‘We twiddled a few things but …’ She shook her head. ‘The plumber promised he’d get here by four. Never mind. We can manage, can’t we? Let’s have some tea.’
Caitlin and Cassidy showed no signs of returning to the kitchen, so Laura put the teapot and mugs on a tray and they went outside to join them. Fay lowered herself into the deckchair, trying not to picture what this would do to her linen trousers.
‘We’ve been catching up,’ said Caitlin.
‘Refreshing memories,’ Cassidy added. ‘Cait’s got amazing powers of recall.’
‘The sight of you kicking tea over Mum’s white carpet isn’t easily forgotten. Nor the inquest after you went. If we’d done it we’d have been grounded for weeks.’
‘It wasn’t “my carpet”,’ Fay jumped in. ‘I wish you wouldn’t make me out to be such an ogre, Caitlin.’ Her protestation sounded childish and she hurried to temper her remark. ‘You can barely see the stain now.’
The garden was small, but Laura had utilised the space thoughtfully to create a jewel of a garden, bursting with colour and scent, and they lounged in deckchairs, enjoying the late afternoon sun. ‘Is that where you work?’ Fay asked, pointing to a small shed in the corner, where Cassidy had stacked the timber.
‘I do the odd repair here, but I rent a workshop out on the bypass. That’s where I spend most of my time.’
Caitlin asked for directions to Derby. ‘I’ve got a large scale map in the house,’ he said putting his arm around Caitlin’s shoulder and shepherding her back inside.
‘You look disapproving.’ Laura closed her eyes and lent her head back against the striped canvas.
‘Not at all,’ Fay laughed. ‘I forgot to ask about Sadie. How are things?’
‘Quite good, actually. The last time we were together – it was after Dad’s funeral, in fact – she and Joe were talking about having a baby.’ She paused. ‘You won’t have experienced this yet, Fay, but the death of your second parent has a galvanising effect. It shifts you up a rung on the ladder. You’re that much nearer the top and it makes you think, “I’d better get on with things; get things sorted.” I think Sadie feels she’s moved up a rung, too.’
Laura looked beautiful, in a dishevelled way, the stray wisps of grey hair forming corkscrew curls around her tanned face and, for the first time, Fay envied her ability to ignore creases in her clothes and wrinkles on her face.
‘Does Sadie have her father’s temperament?’
Fay held her breath wondering if, at last, Laura would divulge her secret, but all she got was: ‘Maybe.’
Caitlin came to say goodbye. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow about going back, once I know what Sarah’s got lined up.’
Cassidy appeared behind her, wearing a tee-shirt now. ‘I’m trying to persuade Cait that she’d have much more fun here with us.’ He came alongside her and put his arm, in brotherly fashion, across her shoulder and she flushed slightly. ‘Ditch your dreary friend and get back here as fast as you can.’
‘She’d be better off in Derby if her friend has a functioning boiler,’ Laura pointed out. ‘You do what you want to do, Caitlin. You know you’re very welcome.’
‘I must admit, I’d be intrigued to meet Isabel again. She made quite an impression on me last time we saw her.’
‘Did she kick her tea on the carpet?’ Cassidy slipped his arm down to her waist.
‘No. She downed a whole bottle of white wine without getting the slightest bit drunk. I was well impressed.’
‘Shouldn’t you be on your way?’ Fay prompted. ‘You won’t have any time at all with Sarah at this rate.’
They trooped out to see her off and Cass whispered something in her ear then kissed her on the cheek. ‘She’s almost as beautiful as her mother,’ he said as the car pulled away and his fingers brushed Fay’s arm, sending a tingle fizzling down her spine.
For once, Jack kept strictly to appointment times, determined to be away from the surgery by five-thirty, and in Llangwm by seven at the latest.
‘On some sort of productivity drive, are we?’ Sheila joked as he took a short lunch break.
‘Need to be out of here on the dot,’ he half-explained.
‘Oh, by the way, was that Iolo chap okay last night? I thought he looked a bit…well, drunk I suppose, when he came back.’ Not for the first time he wondered whether Sheila was clairvoyant.
‘Ha,’ Jack laughed. ‘Iolo drunk? Good heavens no. He’s not well, poor man.’ Realising that laughter at the expense of an ailing friend was inappropriate, he drew his face into a frown. ‘His medication makes him a bit woozy.’
Sheila let it go. ‘When’s that lad moving in?’
‘At the weekend.’
‘If you don’t mind my saying, it’s very un-Fay-like.’
Was this the moment? ‘Can I talk to you about something important, Sheila?’
Sheila stood, calm and receptive. ‘Of course.’
But if he were going to tell her everything, he would need more than a few minutes and he could hear the first patient of the afternoon plodding up the stairs. ‘It’ll keep ’til tomorrow.’
That morning he’d sneaked a change of clothes out of the house and into the car, not wanting to arrive at The Welcome Stranger looking, or smelling, like a dentist. He wished he’d had time to shower, too, but every minute was precious and he tried not to sweat as the rush-hour traffic crawled out of the city. He had no idea how the evening would pan out but, from his two previous visits, he knew that plans were superfluous where the Evans family was concerned.
Passing the slip road which would have taken him to his parent’s house, he could picture them now, his father pottering in the garden, whilst his mother washed the dishes after tea, chewing over the events of the barbecue for the umpteenth time. ‘She should show a little more charity towards her family,’ his mother had grumbled as he’d driven them back. ‘Blood’s thicker than water. Who is this Neil boy, anyway?’
‘Poor sod,’ his father would mutter, under his breath.
Jack made good time, the traffic easing as homeward bound commuters slipped off to the estates of modest houses, clinging to the sides of the broad valley. It was before seven when, singing to himself, he dropped down the hill and coasted round the final bend into Llangwm.
A ‘No Vacancies’ sign hung from the board outside The Welcome Stranger but the front door was wide open. He paused in the hall, trying to identify the muted voices coming from the kitchen. ‘Hello,’ he called. ‘Hello.’ The voices stopped and the house, usually bustling with people and filled with laughter and singing, fell silent.
He waited and, after what seemed far too long, Iolo, wearing a striped apron over khaki shorts, appeared from the direction of the kitchen. ‘Jack.’ He gave a relieved smile, grabbed Jack’s hand and pumped it, ‘Jack.’
‘Iolo.’ Jack pumped back. ‘Thought I’d better check you’re okay. Did you retrieve your car?’
‘Yes. Took a while to track it down, though. Cost me a packet in car park fees. Still…’ Hanging on to Jack’s hand, he slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Can’t thank you enough for last night. How much do I owe you for the taxi?’
Jack shook his head. ‘Forget it. You’ve told Zena about…things, I assume.’
‘Mmmm. Made a bit of a dog’s breakfast of it I’m afraid. Here, what am I thinking about? Let’s get the kettle on.’
Non was sitting at the kitchen table, the area in front of her a sea of papers, cheque book stubs and brown envelopes. She looked strained but her face brightened when she saw Jack. ‘It’s our guardian angel,’ she said and, seeing her lovely face again, that’s exactly what he wanted to be. ‘Dad told you about our difficulties.’ She waved her hand over the table. ‘We’ve spent all day going through this lot. Trying to work out where it went so wrong.’
When Iolo went into the garden, to empty the tea-leaves from the familiar brown teapot, Non whispered urgently, ‘Mum’s gone to her sister’s. Sshhh. He’s coming back.’
&
nbsp; Their faces gave them away. ‘She told you that Zena’s gone?’ Iolo swished hot water around the pot. ‘Taken it into her head I’m a devious, drunken shit. Seems to think that I’ve been keeping other things from her, too. Couldn’t persuade her that I was only trying to save her the worry, until I get things sorted.’
Non laid a hand on her father’s arm. ‘We’ve agreed it’s a bit beyond sorting, Dad.’
His shoulders sagged. ‘Bastard bankers,’ he muttered. ‘Keen enough to lend you the money but don’t want to know when you hit a sticky patch.’
Jack wanted to comfort Iolo and he envied women, who, at times like this, could hug the sufferer and make soothing noises. This option denied him, he resorted to hard facts. ‘This is rather indelicate, and you can tell me to mind my own business, but how much money are we talking?’
‘We’ve past the “indelicate” stage. Twenty thousand pounds.’ Iolo shook his head. ‘There’s no doubt we can make enough to live on but we can’t seem to get on top of the initial loan.’
Non nodded confirmation. Past her, through the window, the setting sun was casting an orange glow across the hills; a huge bunch of asters, shaggy and jewel-coloured, stood in a lustre jug on the dresser; hens crooned in the enclosure at the end of the garden.
The solution came to him in a flash, as though someone had raised the curtain to reveal an entrancing stage set. ‘Well, I’ve been giving it a lot of thought.’
Non frowned, ‘How long have you known about it then?’
Iolo was quick to dispel any idea that he had confided in a stranger before telling his family. ‘Yesterday. When I was down in Cardiff.’
Jack elaborated. ‘I mean I’ve been thinking about it all day. I couldn’t say anything until I knew what sort of money’s involved.’ He linked his hands behind his head and lent back in the chair. ‘Twenty thousand’s nothing in the scheme of things.’ His heart raced in anticipation of what he was about to propose. ‘Look. I’ve got some money sitting in the building society, earning very little. Why don’t I invest it in The Welcome Stranger?’ Jack held his breath.
