Lavender Lane

by Christina Jones

Giving details to the receptionist seemed to take ages but finally she stumbled back to the waiting area. Everyone seemed to have someone with them … but the only person she wanted was unconscious in one of the cubicles.

  ‘Mrs Phillips?’ A dark-haired nurse was at her side. How young these wonderful people were, Amy thought blankly. ‘Your husband has been examined. You can see him in a minute but the doctor would like a word.’

  ‘Is he –?’ The words died on Amy’s lips. ‘I mean …’

  ‘Mr Phillips is still unconscious.’ She was already turning away. ‘We’ll be admitting him as soon as we have a bed. But the doctor will give you more details.’

  Amy followed the neat, uniformed figure, vaguely aware of all the bustle around her, but completely untouched by it.

  ‘Mrs Phillips?’ The doctor, youthful and heavy-eyed, smiled at her briefly. ‘I’ve examined your husband – er –’

  ‘Bob.’

  ‘Bob. He’s showing all the signs of an angina attack, Mrs Phillips. I’m almost sure it wasn’t a full-blown heart attack, but I’d like to keep him in for a few days for observation. We’ll know more when he can talk to us, of course. Has he complained of chest pains, or been under undue stress recently?’

  ‘No pains as far as I know,’ Amy said quietly. ‘But we’re always under pressure. We run our own business and there have been family problems recently, too. He’s not – not going to die, is he?’ she whispered.

  ‘Not if we can help it, but I think he’ll have to take things very quietly for a while. No work, no upsets, no stress.’ He looked as though he’d said it all a hundred times before. ‘Is there someone we can contact for you? Someone who can wait with you?’

  Amy shook her head. She didn’t know where the children were, Cicely had disappeared, and her own parents would only get upset.

  ‘No, thank you.’ She swallowed. ‘There’s no one. I’ll be fine. Can I see him?’

  ‘Of course.’ His tired eyes showed relief that she had taken it so well. ‘He’s through here. The nurses will be keeping an eye on him until we can get him up to the ward. I’ll see you later, as soon as we can find a bed.’

  Bob seemed asleep as she tiptoed to his bed. His face was pale, and his heartbeat was being monitored by yet another machine. The oxygen mask half-covering his face looked uncomfortable, and she reached over to ease it a little.

  ‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘Without you I’m nothing. Nothing else matters, Bob. Just you and me. Just you …’

  The tears flowed unchecked then, falling hotly down her cheeks. Leaning forward, she clutched his hand and rested her face against the hard pillow.

  Time and reality lost all meaning. It could have been midnight or four in the morning.

  The hospital was tropically warm and humming with life. The nurses came in, checked monitors, asked if she wanted tea, and went out.

  ‘Amy?’ It was Bob’s voice, weak and hoarse. ‘Amy – is there any chance of a cup of tea?’

  Her cry brought the nurse scuttling through the curtains and Amy found herself firmly but kindly pushed to one side as the doctor arrived and the whole reassuring business of healing the sick moved smoothly into motion.

  ‘If you’d like to wait outside, Mrs Phillips,’ the doctor told her, ‘we’ll be moving your husband very shortly.’

  Bob was moved quietly and efficiently to a dimly lit cubicle on the cardiac ward. Amy travelled up with him in the lift, holding his hand.

  ‘Definitely angina.’ The young doctor yawned and smiled apologetically. ‘Sorry! It’s been a long day! We’ll keep him in for a few days, but with regular medication there is no reason why he shouldn’t live a perfectly normal life. Of course,’ he added, ‘as I said, it will mean him keeping away from work for three or four months. He must have total rest. Someone else can take over the running of the business, I trust?’

  ‘Hm? Oh – yes,’ Amy muttered. Lavender Cabs was the last thing on her mind at the moment.

  ‘Good. Remember, overwork and stress will only make matters worse. And next time it could be far more serious.’

  Next time! Amy sank down beside Bob’s bed in the soft darkness. There wasn’t going to be a next time, she would make sure of that.

  She would manage, wouldn’t she?

  Mitchell and Megan were hard workers, and the drivers were the best.

  She would ask Matt to take over Bob’s role. The fact that he had sold his shares was of no consequence now – she just wanted him to come home. She needed Matt. Lavender Cabs needed him.

  Bob stirred in his sleep, and Amy smoothed his hair.

  ‘It’s going to be fine,’ she promised him quietly. ‘Just fine.’

  Bob opened his eyes and smiled sleepily, and Amy bit her lip. She loved him more than life and his survival depended on her. Her life had been turned giddily on its head. Nothing would ever be the same again.

  She felt alone and unbearably weary. The future suddenly looked very frightening.

  ‘This is Sam.’ Cicely beamed at Sally and Matt, with a special smile at Kimberley in her high chair. ‘He’s an old friend. Sam, my grandchildren, Matt and Sally, and my great-granddaughter, Kimberley …’

  Matt and Sally shook hands with him, and exchanged meaningful glances.

  As soon as the courses had been ordered and drinks poured, Cicely sat back in her chair and raised her glass.

  ‘Here’s to new ventures. Here’s to the future. Here’s to Sally’s Floral Oils – and to your return to Appleford, my dears.’

  ‘You don’t think we’re doing the wrong thing, Gran?’ Matt ventured.

  Cicely shook her head. ‘No, I don’t. Mind you, I don’t think you should have sold your shares to Paul and Judith – but I suppose I’m to blame for that. I should have told you earlier that I was financing Sally. But you do realise you have to go home and face the music?’

  ‘Yes, Gran,’ Matt said meekly, and Sam chuckled.

  ‘A chip off the old block here, I think.’ He looked at them both. ‘Your grandmother never toed the party line either.’

  ‘So we gather.’ Sally grinned as the starters arrived. ‘So, how long have you two known each other?’

  ‘A very long time,’ Cicely returned.

  ‘And how come we’ve heard nothing about Sam before?’ Matt smiled. ‘Is he a dark secret from your past, Gran?’

  Sam and Cicely looked at each other and said nothing, and Sally pounced on the silence.

  ‘Oh, tell us! Please!’

  Sam raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

  ‘I’ve promised your gran I’ll say nothing. Not that we’ve got anything to hide, mind you – but …’

  Cicely laid down her knife and fork.

  ‘Sam was a friend and – er – colleague of your grandfather’s.’

  ‘Oh, so you’re a clergyman?’ Sally asked.

  Sam roared with laughter. ‘Indeed I am not! Your grandfather did have other interests.’

  As the waitress cleared their plates,

  Cicely took a deep breath.

  ‘Tell them, Sam. But I’ll interrupt if there are any embellishments – just the truth, please.’

  ‘I don’t think it needs any embroidering.’ Sam grinned, covering Cicely’s hand with his own – a gesture that wasn’t lost on Sally.

  He began to tell them the story, transporting them back through the years to a time between the wars when peace seemed never-ending and life for the young was completely carefree.

  ‘Cicely was seventeen when we met. Beautiful, daring, funny, a dream come true – and already engaged to your grandfather. David and I had met at college and we had lots of things in common. He invited me to stay with him in Appleford one summer – and we found we had one more. Cicely.’

  ‘Oh!’ Sally’s eyes widened. ‘The eternal triangle!’

  Sam shook his head. ‘I didn’t wear my heart on my sleeve, and we held honour in high esteem in those days. Cicely belonged to David and that was that.’

 
‘So what happened? ‘I remember listening to Gran and Granddad Foster talking about some old scandal,’ Matt put in. ‘I was fascinated because they kept lowering their voices when they thought I was listening. I knew it was about you, Gran, because they always called you Cissie when they didn’t want us to know.’

  ‘Typical!’ Cicely smiled. ‘Stella and Jim have always been so conventional. I really thought the whole thing had died a death. I didn’t think anyone would remember …’

  ‘So what did you do that caused Gran and Granddad Foster to still talk about it years later?’ Matt pressed.

  ‘I doubt if it was Sam and me by that late date,’ Cicely said, smiling. ‘It was probably one of my other misdemeanours. Well, what else can you expect from someone who –’

  ‘Hey, who’s telling this story?’ Sam broke in, laughing. ‘Well, apart from falling in love with your grandmother on the spot, I was also David’s closest friend. It was an awful dilemma. I had accepted the hospitality of his family for the whole of the summer – so I either had to return home or find some other way of putting Cicely from my mind. Strangely, David provided that.

  ‘We had both learned to fly at college – we were very daring – and I joined David’s flying club. At least up in the clouds I had to concentrate on what I was doing rather than think about Cicely.

  ‘Then I was approached by Lord Rudrum. He wasn’t a real lord, of course,’ Sam explained. ‘He was a showman. He ran a flying circus. He was looking for pilots, and I jumped at the chance. I thought it would give me the opportunity to make a dignified exit from David’s place and forget all about Cicely …’

  ‘But you still couldn’t forget her?’ Sally asked hopefully.

  ‘You underestimate your grandmother.’ Sam stroked Cicely’s hand. ‘She didn’t give me a chance. As soon as she heard about it, she contacted Lord Rudrum herself –’ he paused ‘– and soon your grandmother, the seventeen-year-old fiancée of the future vicar of St Matthew’s, became the best wing-walker in the business!’

  Matt and Sally sat with their mouths open, and Cicely felt the tears welling. It was a lifetime ago – but it seemed like only yesterday.

  ‘I loved it,’ she said huskily. ‘I also loved Sam. We were the most daring couple in England! Kindred spirits. I thought I’d kept it secret. Very few people in Appleford knew – at least, not until it was all over, and then it was only hearsay.’

  ‘But – what about Granddad Phillips?’ Matt looked at his grandmother with new eyes. ‘What on earth did he think?’

  ‘Actually, he was happy for me to wing-walk. He was a real dare-devil himself, and very proud of me. His parents, of course, were pretty sniffy. And he knew nothing about Sam and me being in love …’

  ‘But you wouldn’t leave him?’ Sally’s eyes were moist.

  ‘Absolutely not.’ Cicely shook her head. ‘As Sam said, we had very high ideals in those days. I was engaged to a man of the cloth – it would have caused a huge scandal. And I did love David … quietly and comfortably. Not with the fireworks and high drama of when I fell in love with Sam, of course.’ She sighed. ‘But I became a very good vicar’s wife, and we had a long and happy marriage.’

  ‘And after the war I went to America and carried on flying,’ Sam added. ‘I married an American girl called Margie, though I never forgot my wing-walker …’

  ‘We’ve been writing to each other for years – since Sam’s Margie died,’ Cicely said quietly. ‘But this is the first time we’ve met. So!’ She sat back and looked at her grandson. ‘Don’t think that your generation is the only one that can have problems or be unconventional!’

  ‘Oh, it’s so romantic!’ Sally whispered. ‘I always knew you were different but I had no idea just how special! But weren’t you ever scared?’

  ‘Never.’ This time Cicely squeezed Sam’s hand. ‘At least, not of the flying. I trusted Sam with my life, literally. But I was sometimes terrified of having fallen in love with him. The scandal … the pain it might have caused … Still, in the end, it all worked out happily.’

  ‘And now you’re back together.’ Matt was beaming. ‘And is this just a flying visit – if you’ll pardon the pun – or is Sam back for good?’

  ‘My home is still in America,’ Sam said quietly. ‘My heart is – well elsewhere. The future depends entirely on Cicely.’

  ‘Yes, we’ve got plenty to talk about,’ Cicely agreed. ‘As you have, my dears. I hope this little break has enabled you to sort out exactly what you intend to do?’

  ‘Yes, it has.’ Matt leaned towards Sally. ‘We’ve had time to realise that our marriage – and Kim – are more important than anything else. We’ve sorted out stockists for Floral Oils, and thanks to your financial backing, Gran, the money I raised from my shares doesn’t need to go into the business.’

  ‘So,’ Sally joined in, ‘when we go back to Appleford we’re going to face Amy and Bob – apologise for the trouble we’ve caused by selling the shares – and tell them that we’ll be leaving Lavender Lane altogether.’

  ‘What?’ Cicely frowned. ‘Do you mean –?’

  Matt grinned. ‘We’re going to use the money to buy a house. We’re going to move out of the bungalow, leave Lavender Cabs, and start up completely on our own.’

  ‘Bob and Amy will understand,’ Sally said firmly. ‘I’m sure they will.’

  ‘To be honest, it doesn’t matter if they object or not,’ Matt said grimly. ‘Nothing – absolutely nothing – will make me change my mind.’

  Chapter Eight

  Doctor’s Orders!

  Six days later, Bob was released from hospital. Amy, driving carefully on the frozen roads, brought him quietly back to Lavender Lane.

  ‘Where’s the welcoming committee?’ He grinned across at her as they pulled up outside the bungalow. ‘I expected banners, a band, and a troupe of dancing girls at least.’

  ‘Peace and quiet,’ Amy said firmly. ‘That’s what the doctor said, and that, Bob Phillips, is just what you’re going to get.’

  Taking his arm, she helped him inside. Though she was delighted to have him home, her heart was still heavy.

  Matt, Megan, and Mitch had been wonderful. They had promised to do whatever they could, had visited the hospital full of cheering stories and run Lavender Cabs with a zeal that couldn’t be faulted. But Amy hadn’t been fooled.

  Ever since Megan had returned from Warwick, she’d had a bright-eyed look and had refused all phone calls from Peter.

  Matt and Sally, full of contrition over the sale of their shares, seemed to be acting a part in a play.

  And Cicely, who never behaved as anyone expected, while naturally extremely concerned about her son’s illness, seemed almost distracted.

  Mitch was the only one behaving normally. He had thrown himself into showing Dean and Debbie the ways of the garage and the taxi business, and had also dealt very firmly with Paul and Judith, organising their driving shifts and keeping them away from Amy at all times. She had been very glad of his support.

  ‘It’s great to be home.’ Bob stretched his legs out in front of the roaring fire. ‘But I don’t want to be a nuisance.’

  ‘You won’t be.’ Amy perched on the arm of his chair. ‘You can spend your recuperation doing something we’ve both neglected for some time!’

  ‘Don’t tell me.’ Bob groaned. ‘You want me to update the photo albums for the last twenty years. Or worse – sit here and polish all those little brass ornaments the kids used to buy us.’

  ‘Nothing so mundane!’ Amy laughed, hugging him. ‘Although, come to think of it, that’s not a bad idea. No, what you can do while you’re languishing in luxury is become a proper father.’

  ‘But I’ve always considered myself a perfect father!’ he protested.

  ‘We’ve been very lenient and easy-going parents.’ Amy smoothed his hair away from his forehead. ‘After all, that’s our nature. And I think we’ve done a great job. The kids are our friends, and they really haven’t given us any troubl
e. But that business with Matt and the shares brought it home to me that we haven’t spent much time with them since they’ve grown up. We never really have time to stop and talk and listen, do we? The business has always had to come first. But now you’re going to have oodles of time …’

  ‘Don’t I know it!’ Bob sighed. ‘I’ll be screaming with boredom after the first week.’

  ‘Not a chance!’ Amy smiled. ‘The kids know they’ve got a captive audience. You’ll probably have to keep an appointment book!

  ‘Seriously, Bob, Lavender will run as it’s always done. I just can’t help thinking that if we’d been available for Matt to talk to, we might have been able to prevent him selling out to Paul and Judith. We didn’t know how desperate Sally was to start her own business, did we? And we didn’t know much about Jacey Brennan until she was an established part of Mitch’s life – and we certainly didn’t know how upset Megan was about Peter King.’

  ‘Bob Phillips – Agony Aunt!’ Bob laughed, some colour returning to his pale cheeks. ‘OK, then. But there’s one thing I must have first …’

  ‘You’ve taken your tablets?’ Amy queried in concern. ‘What else is there?’

  ‘A cup of tea.’ Bob smiled happily. ‘A proper cup of tea made by my darling wife in my own kitchen. It’ll be nectar after all those cups of unidentifiable liquid the hospital dished up!’

  ‘Slave driver!’ Amy kissed him. ‘Don’t get too used to this, Bob. You’ll be making your own before long.’

  For the first time since the accident, Amy was humming as she bustled into the kitchen.

  ‘Dad’s home.’ Mitchell looked out of the garage windows. ‘Mum’s car’s outside. Shall we go and see him?’

  ‘Give them a few minutes together.’ Megan, perched on the work bench beside the roaring heater, suggested. ‘They’ll probably both be a bit weepy.’

  ‘And we’ve got things to discuss before we all barge in and swamp him,’ Matt said. ‘After all, this is a bit of a turning point for us all.’

  ‘It certainly makes a change for us all to be together without hangers on, other halves, or outsiders,’ Megan agreed. ‘So where do we go from here?’