‘I’m hungry.’
‘You’re always hungry.’ With that Daisy ran to her friends and was soon lost in a sea of grey uniforms and bright, shiny faces.
With a sigh of relief, Libby watched her enter the building. ‘Thank heavens I’m not a teacher,’ she mumbled. ‘I don’t think I’m cut out to handle twenty-four Daisy Walters.’ In an effort to start the car, she pumped the accelerator. When the pungent aroma of petrol wafted up, she realised with a sinking heart that she had flooded the engine.
‘I don’t want this old car,’ Jamie declared with a sulk. ‘It stinks.’
For one frightening, delicious moment Libby felt like strangling somebody – anybody! She scrambled out of her seat and, opening the back door, told Jamie with a carefree smile, ‘Out you get.’ Which he did, with a lip that dragged the ground.
‘I’m hungry.’
In fact she could hear his stomach rumbling from where she stood. Compassion moved her, but she knew how difficult he could be and so remained stern. ‘Serves you right for not eating your breakfast.’ She hated Monday mornings. Oh, how she hated Monday mornings.
The school secretary must have had a bad start to the day too. Normally she was bright as a button with a smile that made you feel at ease. Today, however, she had a sour face and a mouth that resembled a puckered gash in newly-made bread. ‘You can’t leave that car in the gateway,’ she declared stiffly. ‘We have traffic coming and going all day. The school bus is due any minute, and the photographer’s arriving at ten thirty.’ It was etched on her brain, like every disaster waiting to happen.
‘I really don’t want to leave it there,’ Libby explained patiently, ‘but it won’t start.’
‘You’ll have to get it moved then.’
‘That’s what I intend. If you’ll let me use the phone, I’ll get the garage to come and tow it away.’ Under her breath she added viciously, ‘With a bit of luck he might throw it in the nearest bloody tip!’
‘Beg your pardon?’
‘Nothing. Just let me use the phone.’
Jamie was still hungry and unforgiving. ‘Mummy swore,’ he told the astonished woman. ‘She said bloody.’
Libby was ashamed but the woman laughed out loud. ‘Come in and use the phone,’ she said. ‘It sounds like you’ve had a worse morning than I have.’
By the time the breakdown vehicle had taken away her car and the bus had delivered her and Jamie to the nursery, Libby was at screaming pitch. Mustering all her composure, she apologised for bringing Jamie late and was assured that it was perfectly all right. The nursery teacher even agreed that Jamie could have a biscuit and a glass of milk. ‘In fact, we should all be stopping for a break in ten minutes,’ she said, ‘so we’ll stop now. What’s ten minutes between friends?’
The young woman’s friendly smile and placid nature had a calming effect on Libby’s shattered nerves. ‘I can’t tell you what a dreadful time we’ve had.’ Libby’s matter-of-fact voice belied her feeling of inadequacy. ‘I’d better go or I’ll be losing my job on top of everything else.’
Twenty minutes later, exhausted and tried to the limit, Libby almost fell through the door of the draper’s shop where she worked. ‘Oh, May, I’m sorry,’ she said to the attractive, auburn-haired woman behind the counter. ‘I’ll work Saturday morning to make up.’
Large and kindly, May Dexter was normally easygoing. She had a heart of gold and was not given to bad temper. But this Monday morning seemed to be giving everyone a bad time; like the secretary at Daisy’s school, May was not in the best of moods. She’d had to cope with a rush of customers as well as a very chatty plumber who had come to fix the burst pipe in the loft. ‘I needed you this morning,’ she snapped. Her mass of auburn hair was more unruly than ever and, much to Libby’s astonishment, she was bare of make-up. ‘I’ve been run off my feet. You know very well I should have been out buying first thing today. We’re running short of twenties-style dresses, and there isn’t a size fourteen of anything in the shop. I’ve already had two people asking for black cotton and I had to turn them away. I never thought I’d see the day when May Dexter turned away good customers. And did you know we were completely out of blue wool? Old Ma Hepworth wanted some to knit a matinee jacket for her new grandson. I had to disappoint her as well. It’s bad for business. Why didn’t you tell me we were running short? That’s what I pay you for. Honestly, Libby! I can’t be expected to keep track of everything.’
‘I did tell you,’ Libby protested. Throwing off her coat, she grabbed up the stock book and shoved it under May’s nose. ‘Look. It’s all in here – blue wool, black cotton, and 1997 calendars. I did the stock list a week ago. I said we were running short of twenties-style dresses as well.’ She pointed out the entry. ‘I did my job, as you can see.’ It had taken her nearly two hours to check the stock and make the entries, and now she was being held responsible for the shortfalls. ‘I’m sorry, May, but it’s not my fault if you don’t look in the stock book. All the same, if you’re not happy with my work, you only have to say.’ So much had gone wrong this morning, she was past caring.
May was mortified. ‘I’m sorry, you mustn’t take it personally,’ she apologised. ‘I’m just an old fool. Take no notice, Libby. Of course I’m happy with you. What! I don’t know what I’d ever do without you, and that’s the truth.’ She winked. ‘Look, gal, we’ve made a bad start. How about if we started all over again and I make us both a nice cup of tea?’ Checking the time on the wall clock, she declared, ‘I’ll get there when I get there, and to hell with it.’
Libby smiled at her, but before May could go and put the kettle on, the door opened to admit a customer. It was Miss Ledell. The moment she came through the door, the shop was filled with the sweet smell of newly crushed rose petals. Miss Ledell was in her late seventies, old yet not old. There was something very different about this particular old lady. Something inexplicable, a deep-down beauty that shone from her face. Coming from a time of graciousness, she was tall and elegant, with mesmerising dark eyes, and long, plaited grey hair.
She was always well dressed. On this cold winter’s morning, she had on a long flowing black coat and ankle-length boots; over her head she wore a pale blue beret drawn down to one side and touching the curve of her high cheekbone.
Libby thought she was an example to every mature woman. ‘What can I do for you, Miss Ledell?’ Something about this woman urged a kind of reverence.
‘Oh dear! Miss Ledell sounds so formal, especially when you’ve been neighbours for a long time now. Besides, your delightful daughter spends so much time with me, I’ve begun to feel like part of the family.’
Libby felt uncomfortable. ‘I’m sorry, and yes, you’re right. You’re more than a neighbour to us. All the same, it doesn’t seem right to call you by your first name.’ Even if she knew what it was, which she didn’t.
The old lady frowned. ‘No doubt you were always taught to address your elders with respect.’
‘Something like that,’ Libby admitted sheepishly.
The old lady laughed. ‘And they don’t come much older than me.’
‘I hadn’t even thought about it like that.’ The last thing she wanted was to offend.
‘Age shouldn’t be a barrier.’ It was a wise remark, rooted in the pain of experience.
While Libby attended to the old lady, May scurried off to make the tea. When the door closed behind the regal customer, she came out, a cup in each hand, and a packet of biscuits gripped between her teeth. ‘She’s a strange old thing, isn’t she?’ Nodding towards the door, she almost dropped her tea when it opened again and Miss Ledell’s face reappeared. ‘Oh, and I’d appreciate it if you could keep two bright eyes for me. I won’t need them yet, but I’d hate to find I didn’t have any when the time comes.’ She turned to go, but suddenly spun round, her long grey plait making a thud as it slapped against the window pane. ‘Brown,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘They must be brown. And they must have a twinkle.’
‘Of c
ourse. I’ll look some out for you.’
‘I mean to have it finished in time for Christmas.’
Libby had heard little else from Daisy for the past fortnight. ‘It’s very kind of you.’
The old lady smiled, a slow, whimsical smile. ‘Good. Brown then. With a twinkle.’
When she finally departed, Libby commented thoughtfully, ‘I wouldn’t mind betting she’s broken a few hearts in her time.’
‘What’s all this about brown, twinkling eyes?’ May asked.
Libby chuckled. ‘She’s making Daisy a teddy bear.’
‘I thought Daisy already had a teddy bear.’
‘She has. In fact, she’s got half a dozen, so I suppose one more won’t hurt. Apparently, it’s a reward for being such a hard-working pupil. But if it’s been well-earned, and it keeps an old lady happy, where’s the harm?’
Perched on a stool, May sipped her tea. ‘I wonder why she insists on teaching Daisy to play piano yet turns all other hopefuls away.’
Libby had asked the old lady the same question. ‘She says she doesn’t really have the time or energy to teach more than one child and, according to her, Daisy has a natural talent that cries out to be nurtured.’
‘The next thing she’ll be wanting is a piano to practise on at home.’
Libby had thought the same and she and Dave were prepared to go out and buy a piano, but, ‘No, Daisy says she’d rather practise at Miss Ledell’s. Anyway, you know what children are like. They get all excited about one thing or another, then weeks later they don’t want to know. She might get fed up, so maybe it’s as well we don’t lay out money for a piano until she’s absolutely sure. I mean, nobody else in the family plays.’
‘Have you ever heard her play?’
‘Just once.’ It was only a few notes, but Libby would never forget it. ‘I’d gone early to collect her. The window was open and I heard someone playing the piano. I was sure it couldn’t be Daisy because it sounded so beautiful, too accomplished, if you know what I mean.’ The memory was so vivid. ‘I peeked in at the window and the two of them were seated on the long stool in front of the piano. The old lady had her eyes closed, listening. It was Daisy who was playing. Honestly, May, it was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.’ Just thinking about it made her flesh creep.
‘I’d like to hear her play.’
‘You’ll have to wait in line.’
‘Oh? Why’s that?’
Libby laughed. ‘Because my extrovert daughter, who shines on stage in a school play and is first in the queue when teacher wants someone to read out loud, was horrified when she found out I’d been listening to her. I told her I thought it was beautiful and that her dad would love to hear her play, but she was adamant. “Miss Ledell says it will be some time before I’m good enough for other people to hear.” That’s what she said and there’s no shifting her.’
‘I always get the impression she comes from a long line of aristocrats.’
‘Who? Daisy?’
‘No, you silly arse! The old lady.’
Libby chuckled. ‘I know what you mean.’ The hot tea slithered smoothly down her throat, soothing her frayed nerves. ‘She does have a certain grace, and such a soft, gentle voice. Being so tall and slender, she moves wonderfully well for her age.’ In her mind’s eye she could see the old lady in her youth. ‘I bet she was gorgeous when she was young – those wonderful, dark eyes, and that long thick hair. I wonder what colour it was when she was in her prime.’
‘Black, I imagine, or dark brown.’ Dipping her biscuit into her tea, May cursed when the whole thing fell in. Fishing it out with her finger, she remarked, ‘I’d love to see her hair hanging loose. I bet it’s a sight to behold.’
‘She never says much about herself, does she? I mean, nobody seems to know where she comes from, do they?’
‘Hasn’t she confided in Daisy? I should have thought if she was to tell anyone about her past, it would be your daughter. From what I can tell, she adores the girl.’
The faintest surge of envy touched Libby’s heart. ‘They are close, yes,’ she admitted grudgingly. ‘When Dave’s mother passed away last year, the children were left with no grandparents. Jamie eventually accepted it, but Daisy was devastated. Dave and I couldn’t seem to reach her, yet once the old lady took her under her wing, she was soon over it.’ That had been a bad time for the family. ‘We’re immensely grateful and you can see for yourself how Daisy has given the old lady a new lease of life too.’
The tiniest smile crept over the older woman’s brassy features. ‘Aren’t you just the teeniest bit jealous?’
Libby was honest. ‘A little bit maybe.’
‘You shouldn’t be though. The old lady’s nurturing the girl’s musical talent, and taking the place of a grandmother into the bargain.’
‘May?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Does anyone know where she comes from?’
May shook her auburn head. ‘She’s a mystery. I don’t think anybody even knows her first name. Do you?’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘She’s lived in that farmhouse for more years than I can remember, and nobody knows any more about her now than they did the day she arrived.’ After sucking in the remains of her biscuit into her mouth, she noisily slurped the last of her tea. ‘All I do know is that she keeps herself to herself and never causes anybody any trouble, and you know yourself, she’s as kind and generous as they come. She knits for the poor and needy, and every Christmas takes a sack of beautiful handmade toys to the children’s ward at the hospital.’
‘She’s a special person, I’m not denying that.’ Libby had a great deal of respect and liking for her. ‘You know she won’t take a penny for Daisy’s music lessons? I’ve tried all ways to make her accept some kind of payment, but she won’t hear of it.’
‘Don’t feel bad about it, Libby. From what I can tell, she’s not short of a pound or two, and I expect she’s glad of Daisy’s company. I don’t recall her ever mentioning any family of her own, and as far as I can tell she never goes anywhere, except to the village shops. It’s no wonder she looks forward to Daisy’s visits. The girl must be like a breath of spring to the poor old soul.’
‘You’re right. She does look forward to her visits. Whenever I drop Daisy off, she’s waiting at the door, and when I pick her up, she waves us out of sight. Sad, really.’ Libby didn’t know what it was like to be lonely, and she didn’t want to. She imagined there could be no worse feeling on God’s earth than not having someone to care for; unless it was not being cared for yourself.
‘There you are then.’ May took her cup into the scullery. ‘I’d best away and catch the train into Bedford,’ she declared. ‘Being late might have worked out in my favour because by the time I get there, the Monday morning rush should be over. With a bit of luck and a following wind, I should be back before you finish at three.’
‘I know I shouldn’t really ask, having made you late and all, but will it be all right if I close for lunch as usual?’ Libby glanced at her wristwatch, amazed to see it was already twelve o’clock. ‘Only I’ve arranged to meet Dave at the Bull Inn for a bite to eat. He’s got a late business meeting so he probably won’t be home until midnight.’
May grinned mischievously. ‘Are you sure he hasn’t got another woman?’
Libby was stunned into silence. But she couldn’t blame May for her unthinking remark. She wasn’t to know that it was Dave seeing another woman that had almost broken up their marriage.
‘I’m the only woman in Dave’s life.’ She said it lightly but in truth she hadn’t completely regained her trust in him although he had since proved himself time and again. Once a man cheated on you, it was hard to banish the knowledge. ‘Where would he find someone else like me?’ she asked with wide, innocent eyes. ‘I’m a good cook, magnificent in bed and, though I say so myself, I’m not a bad-looking bird – for my age.’
‘Get away! You’re only thirty-two. You haven’t got the cradle
marks off your arse yet.’ May wished she was years younger, when the men chased her for her figure; now if they chased her it was because she had her own business and they were looking for a cushy life. ‘Men! Who needs ’em?’ She did, but would never admit it.
Libby gave no answer, but she knew in her heart that if she lost Dave for good, she would be devastated.
Sensing Libby’s thoughts, May wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. ‘It’s different with you and Dave,’ she said seriously. ‘You only have to see the way he looks at you to know he’s head over heels in love.’ In truth, she envied Libby’s relationship with Dave. From the rare snippets of information Libby let fall, she guessed they had been through a bad time but now, since getting back together, they were like Darby and Joan.
‘So, is it all right then, if I meet him for lunch?’
‘I don’t see why not.’ Her good mood reinstated, she was her usual kindly self. ‘I think the initial rush is over now, and anyway you look as though you could do with a break. Yes. Go and meet your hubby as arranged, and if I’m not back by three, lock up and take yourself off. We can’t have you being late to collect the children. Not with the world full of perverts and psychos.’
May had never married. She had never wanted the responsibility of family. Now, though, the older she got, the more she wondered if she had made the right decision.
Dave put down the receiver and leaned back in his chair. ‘Another sale concluded,’ he declared, winking at the girl across the desk. ‘That was Lawson and Co. – Greg Harman’s solicitor. Everything’s signed, sealed and soon to be delivered.’ With every new sale, he believed he and Libby were putting the troubles of the past behind them. ‘What with four new viewings still to be done today, and three big sales in the pipeline, we seem to be going from strength to strength.’ Even so, he crossed his fingers. So much had gone wrong in the past. He didn’t want to tempt Fate.
Mandy’s eyes lit up. ‘Looks like you might have to take on another negotiator.’ A pretty young thing, tall and slim, with cropped red hair, she was relatively new at the agency. But she was intelligent, smart and ambitious. Dave saw her as a candidate for promotion. Not yet, though. This was her first stab at this kind of work and she still had a lot to learn.
Seeker, The Page 4
