‘Making plans? Me too. But now I’m making different plans. I’m planning never to let anyone close to me like that again. Not that anyone would ever be interested, because I’m broken, aren’t I, Chris? And this is real life, not fucking gingerbread.’
Pru left him by the side of the lake and stalked back to the house. There was nothing more she wanted to say and nothing she wanted to hear. It was done.
Milly nipped out to the driveway and waited by Christopher’s chauffeur-driven car. She thought about the last time she had seen him, when she’d managed to get as far as the wide corridor in the Palace of Westminster, all decked out with oil paintings featuring pointy-nosed men sitting next to miserable-looking dogs. Christopher had come out to meet her.
‘I just got a call from the front desk. What on earth are you doing here?’ He was in full-on pompous work mode, and Milly wasn’t having any of it.
‘You look like shit, Christopher.’
He rubbed his hand over his face and carried on walking down the ornate corridor, which was tiled in pale greens, blues and gold. Milly had to trot to keep up.
‘Milly, lovely as it is to see you, I have a very busy day ahead, which doesn’t allow time for listening to how bad you think I look. And the state of my appearance is, incidentally, quite unconnected with how I am actually feeling, which – as anyone will tell you – is fine.’
‘Yes, so you say. Pru says the same thing; she says she’s fine, but she looks like shit as well, even though I tell her the opposite. She thinks I don’t know, but she routinely goes over to the park and leaves you cake parcels on the off chance you might saunter by and pick them up. Now that is nuts. Fine indeed!’ She shook her head.
‘I really can’t discuss this with you, Milly. Did Pru send you?’
‘Good God no! She’d kill me if she knew I was here. I’m just worried about you, Chris.’
They had stopped under a carved wooden arch that curved up to the church-like roof. Christopher seemed to be hiding from his colleagues.
‘That’s kind, but there really is no need.’ He had given Milly a brief, false smile and walked back to his office.
She wasn’t about to let him get away with that a second time. As he strode across the gravel, she stood squarely in front of the car door.
‘Oh no, Milly! Whatever you have to say, I haven’t got time to hear it.’ He raised his palm.
Milly folded her arms and leant back on the car. As if a raised palm would stop her. ‘Well you better make time, mister. I said I was worried about you – and I am. I’m worried that you are making the biggest mistake of your life. You are knocking seventy, you’re not twenty and neither is Pru. How much longer do you think you’ve got on the planet? Ten years? Twenty? That’s all, that’s it! This ain’t no rehearsal and you have to choose very carefully what you do with the time you have left. You were both lonely, then you found each other. And the way she was that night after she came back from meeting you here, down there by the dyed bloody swans…’ She pointed towards the lake. ‘I have never seen her look that way. Never. I think it’s rotten luck for you both that she needs to be punished for something she did over four decades ago, especially as she has been punishing herself ever since. I should know because I punish myself too. But here’s how it is: you can’t rewrite your past, no matter how much you want to. You can only make sure that the mistakes you made don’t define your future; you let yourself live. Otherwise, what’s the bloody point? What’s the point of any of it?’ She threw her arms in the air for added theatricality.
Christopher was speechless. He watched as Milly walked back towards the house. She turned her head and shouted over her shoulder, ‘You ain’t stupid, Chris. I am trusting you to think things through and come to your bloody senses.’ She turned quickly and continued back to Mountfield, praying that Pru hadn’t seen her.
Pru hadn’t seen anything. All she could think about was the way Christopher had feebly apologised. It wasn’t enough; it wasn’t nearly enough. Who did he think she was? How could her life and her feelings count for so little? As if she were invisible, or, worse, not worthy of consideration. Puta.
Pru sank into the chair at the kitchen table and closed her eyes, wishing she could disappear, wishing she had never come. Mountfield held so many deeply emotional memories. It had the power to strip her to the bone, exposing her for all to see.
Milly walked over and stood behind her cousin. ‘Reckon we ought to get going ourselves, eh, girl?’
Pru nodded, grateful that her cousin knew when she needed rescuing, without her having to say a word.
21
When Milly strolled into the kitchen mid morning the next day, Pru was dressed ready for action and eating her muesli.
‘Blimey, look at you all done up to the nines, where you off to?’
‘I’m hardly done up to the nines! I’m off on a little holiday, Mills. I’m getting out of London. I am leaving my phone so I can truly escape. I’m going somewhere I can breathe and eat ice cream and just think about me for a change.’
‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘No I don’t, thanks. I want to be on my own.’
‘Charming.’
‘Sit down, Mills.’
She sat. ‘Oh God, what have I done now?’
‘Nothing!’ Pru pulled out a cream envelope and tossed it at her cousin.
‘What’s this, your last will and testament? Please tell me you’ve left me your Gucci loafers?’
‘Similar. It’s the deeds and legal documents that hand everything over to you – the flats, the business, the building, the whole lot. It’s yours, just yours.’
Milly stared at her. ‘Have you gone loop the loop? What have you gone and done that for?’
Pru stood. ‘Because, Millicent Plum, I have steered this ship for long enough. I’m going to be a passenger for a while. You can do what you like – grow it, sell it, run it into the ground. It’s yours!’
‘You are coming back, Pru? You’re not going to do anything daft?’
‘Course I’m coming back! Of the two of us, I’d like to remind you that it’s you who has the reputation for being daft.’
‘Point taken.’ Milly nodded. ‘It’s just that you’ve got that look about you.’
Pru tutted. ‘What look? And where else would I end up, you silly moo?’
‘I don’t know, you daft cow!’
The two women hugged. ‘We did it all, Mills, didn’t we? We achieved it all.’
Milly squeezed her tight and spoke into her ear. ‘We bloody did, girl. We did it all.’
A car beeped from outside and Pru popped her head out of the window. ‘That’ll be my cab. See you in a bit, Mills. I’ll call you.’
‘What do you mean, “a bit”? How long is “a bit”?’ Milly shouted after her.
‘Who knows! A while!’ Pru practically skipped down the stairs.
Milly shrugged, walked into the sitting room and switched on the TV. She turned the envelope over in her hand. ‘I don’t want to steer the bloody ship,’ she muttered. ‘I’m more of a navigator, not the bloody steerer!’
The voice on the TV announced that it was the last day of parliamentary business before the summer recess. And there he was – Christopher, large as life on the screen. ‘Morning, Chris, you silly old tosser.’ Milly lifted her mug towards him.
Meg came into the lounge and plonked Lucas into the nook of Milly’s arm. His head rested against her and he started to doze.
‘Hello, beautiful little man,’ Milly cooed. ‘Mummy is making your bot-bot so we can fill up that tum, make you big and strong. You are magic, do you know that? You have made us all so happy, who’d have thought it? Even that Uncle Liam of yours can’t keep away, can he?’ She kissed his face and Lucas wrinkled his nose in dislike.
‘I don’t know, Billy-boy,’ Milly continued, addressing the ceiling now. In recent days she had taken to conversing with William, telling him about his son and any other bits of news she thought
he might find interesting. It was a bit like having an exclusive phone line, she thought, though she never once acknowledged the paradox, after all the times she’d scoffed at Pru’s chats with Alfie. ‘Things have a funny old way of working out, don’t they?’
Lucas fell into a snooze and Milly turned her attention to the television, with the volume turned low.
Chris looked ready to speak. Milly turned the sound up a fraction.
‘My lords, ladies and gentlemen of the House, I thank you for this opportunity to address you all today.’ He paused. ‘It has been suggested to me that if my career at Westminster doesn’t work out, I might like to seek employment as a museum guide.’ Milly laughed, as did the hundreds of MPs present. ‘And today, I welcome the chance to deliver some momentous news. I am not about to seek a role as a museum guide…’ The camera panned round to show the faces of the backbenchers, many of whom were muttering behind cupped palms. This was clearly not the speech they had been expecting. Then it zoomed in on Tristram Monroe, Chris’s old adversary, who looked bemused. ‘But there will be a vacancy for the position of Chief Whip with immediate effect. The Prime Minister has today accepted my resignation. It has been my honour and my joy to serve you all, but after much consideration and with a happy heart, I must tell you that I am indeed resigning.’
Milly sat forward. Resigning? There were collective gasps from both sides of the House.
‘Pru? Pru?’ she yelled. ‘Oh tits!’ She shouted even louder, remembering that Pru had left.
‘And the reason I am resigning is that I am in love!’ Everyone present erupted into fits of laughter, followed by thunderous applause, foot stamping and the odd whistle. This had to be a joke.
‘Order, order!’ The Speaker of the House banged his gavel and tried to make himself heard over the guffaws and titters.
Christopher continued, undeterred. ‘Yes, indeed. I am in love with Miss Plum. Who I am hoping is watching, and if she is, she will know where to meet me. She is the purveyor of the finest éclairs this side of Paris. You may have read the intrusive stories about her past in the tabloid press…’ A chorus of lewd comments and wolf-whistles echoed from the backbenches at this point. ‘But circumstances sometimes force people into making unpalatable choices and no one should have to keep paying for mistakes they have made. This, I am ashamed to admit, is something I have only recently come to realise.’
Finally! thought Milly. The old sod gets it! At last.
‘I have decided,’ Christopher went on, ‘that life starts when you let it, whether you are twenty or seventy. I believe it’s a state of mind and I am choosing to let this chapter of my life begin, today, right now! I thank you all for your friendship, support and service over the years; it’s been a blast. Adieu!’
‘Aaaaagh!’ Milly screamed. Lucas woke with a start and started crying. ‘Oh my God! Meg! Take the baby! I’ve got to find Pru!’
‘What’s the matter?’ Meg rushed in from the kitchen.
‘He’s come to his bloody senses, that’s what!’ Milly whooped with joy and swept from the room.
As he sidled along the crowded bench, Christopher Heritage held his tie flat against his stomach with one hand and returned a series of hearty handshakes with the other. MPs pressed forward to embrace him, kiss him and slap him on the back, pumping his hand as he made his way towards the exit. When the heavy wooden doors eventually slammed behind him, he could hear the cheers and laughter of his colleagues and the faint cry of ‘Order!’ as the Speaker tried to regain control.
Milly shoved on her slippers and ran down the stairs. She flew out of the front door and looked up and down Curzon Street. Of course, Pru was long gone.
‘Shit!’ she screeched. Pulling out her phone, she began scrolling down to ‘P’ when she remembered with a jolt that Pru had left her phone at home – to ‘truly escape’. ‘Oh, you daft cow!’ she shouted. ‘Truly escape? I’ll shove it where the sun don’t shine when I catch up with you!’ She ground her teeth in irritation. ‘Oh Christ,’ she muttered, ‘if she doesn’t meet him, she’ll blow it! I have to go and find him. Think, Mills, where is their special place?’ She closed her eyes and tried to remember. A bike courier whistled at her as he sped by. She tutted in his direction, but the neatly wrapped packages on the back of his bike were the clue she needed.
‘The park!’ she yelled. ‘Please God, let it be the park!’
Milly ran, clutching at her bra-less chest. She ran until she thought her lungs might burst. She ran faster than she’d known she could, dodging pushchairs, tourists and slow-paced lovers en route. She dashed across Piccadilly and sprinted through Green Park, ignoring the whistles and shouts that she seemed to be attracting this morning. Finally she hurried over The Mall and into St James’s Park. She made it in a record-breaking fifteen minutes and as she rounded the bend, there it was, the blue bridge. And there Christopher was, nervously waiting.
Milly ran towards him with her arms spread wide. ‘Christopher! How lovely! I came as soon as I could! I had no idea you felt this way and when you said you loved Miss Plum, I had to come!’
Milly watched the colour drain from his face. She bent over and laughed until tears gathered and she wheezed for breath. ‘Don’t look so worried, you silly sod, I came to tell you that Pru has gone!’
His shoulders relaxed. ‘Gone where?’
‘I don’t know, mate, but she said she was going on a little holiday and she wanted to be on her own.’
Christopher shook his head. This was not how he had envisaged his grand plan working out. ‘I don’t believe it! When is she coming back?’
‘I don’t know. “A while”, whatever that means. She said she’d call, but she hasn’t taken her phone and she said she wanted to go somewhere she could breathe and eat ice cream.’
Christopher threw his head back and laughed. ‘Milly, you beauty! I know exactly where she is.’
‘You’re not the first person to call me a beauty this morning – I’ve had wolf-whistles, the lot. It’s quite made my day!’
Christopher took a step closer to her and almost whispered. ‘You do know you are wearing a rather short nightdress and nothing else?’
Milly looked down and gulped. ‘This is like being in one of those bad dreams when you think you’re out in public with no clothes on – only this time it’s for real! Help me!’
‘Tell you what, Mills, I’ll help you, but I need a little help in return.’ He smiled and removed his jacket, placing it around her shoulders as they walked through the park to find a cab. ‘Nothing to see here!’ he shouted. ‘Certainly not a lady who forgot to put her clothes on, nothing like that at all!’
Milly turned around and punched him in the stomach. ‘You get double if you flinch, that’s the rules!’
22
Pru pulled the little floral curtains and bent down to look out of the deep-set window. The sun was already high over the harbour and boats were busily chugging out of the estuary. The gulls were squawking their timeless greeting and dining on leftovers discarded by the milling tourists. She opened the window and took a deep lungful.
‘Beautiful this, isn’t it, Alfie? This’ll do me good. I was thinking yesterday, on the train down, I’m better off single. I don’t think coupledom is for me. Anyway, I’ve got you to talk to, haven’t I? Do you know what, I deserve more than to be judged by someone who doesn’t have the first clue what it would have been like to live my life; someone who had a bloody pony! What did I have? A dolly made out of a sock stuffed with straw and two buttons sewn on for eyes. Anyway, my day beckons. Give Bobby my love.’
Pru pulled on her white linen trousers and floaty white top and trod the wooden stairs that twisted down to the bar. There was a creak to nearly half of them; she smiled and placed one hand on her chest, trying to calm her leaping heart.
‘Morning, Pru – or should I say, good afternoon! How did you sleep?’
‘Like a log, Liz. I just zonked out. I can’t believe it’s midday already, what a layabout! The
journey must’ve taken it out of me. Thank you for putting me up.’
‘Any time. A friend of Chris’s is a friend of mine.’
‘We’re not exactly friends, Liz. Not any more.’
‘Oh no!’ Liz pulled up a chair and sat down at Pru’s table. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. You seemed so good together. What happened?’
‘It’s a long and complicated story. Let’s just say I wasn’t perfect for him.’ She toyed with her napkin.
‘I truly am sorry to hear that, love. What’s your plan for today?’
‘I’m going to go wandering – stroll the streets. And I shall stop for ice cream and whatever else takes my fancy. I might even jump on the ferry and let it take me there and back, just to be on the water.’ She didn’t know if she could handle retracing their steps of that first perfect afternoon.
‘That sounds like a plan, would you like a packed tea?’
‘Ooh yes, thank you.’ A packed tea made it a proper outing.
A vast brunch was deposited in front of her: thick rashers of smoky bacon, glossy fried eggs, mushrooms, crispy hash browns and the obligatory dollop of baked beans.
‘Wow!’ Pru was impressed. Next, a side plate with two slabs of fresh crusty white bread was delivered.
‘In case you want to make a sandwich.’ Liz winked, a woman after her own heart.
The phone behind the bar rang.
‘I better get that.’ Liz jumped up and grabbed the receiver. ‘Hello, the Victoria Inn… Hey! Well, what a coincidence, I was just… Oh, right… No… Oh… Okay… No… Yes… Yes… What…? Seriously…? Really…? Oh my God! Yes… Yes, do… Okay.’ She put the phone back in its cradle and looked at Pru, who was about to tuck into her full English. ‘Wrong number.’
With that she disappeared into the kitchen. Only to emerge a few minutes later, looking a little flustered.
‘Bad news, I’m afraid, Pru.’
Pru was mid mouthful. ‘Oh no! Anything I can do?’
A Little Love Page 26
