‘I’m not ill,’ I protest, when Nina comes over, completely with bag of healthy shopping and makes pasta and salad. ‘This is ridiculous, when you’ve been working all day…’
‘Yes, but I do get weekends off,’ she says pointedly. ‘And I do actually eat proper meals, Frankie – I’m not sure you do.’
I shut up then because yet again, she’s right, which is really annoying as I’ve taken to grazing, as I dash here and there. Anyway, her pasta is delicious.
The next day Charlie comes over for lunch.
‘Frankie – your fridge is full of crap. I’m taking you to the pub.’
Now that sounds like a plan… We only go to the one in the village and have sandwiches, but they’re proper homemade ones, not the plastic ones Mr Crowley sells.
We even have wine – only one glass – while Charlie fills me in on her love life.
‘Mark’s flight gets in tonight.’ She drops it in casually, even though she hasn’t mentioned him for ages.
I shake my head. ‘I thought that was over… Haven’t you been seeing other people?’
‘I have, but… ‘
‘Does he know?’
‘Of course he does – I mean, be practical Frankie. You can’t really start a relationship from opposite sides of the world… But now he’s going to be here, well, it’s going to be very different. I’m really excited!’
You could have knocked me down with a feather. Any of my other friends, may be, but Charlie…
‘Good luck with that,’ I say. ‘No, really – I mean it. He looks nice.’ But then I used to think that about Greg and look what a loser he turned out to be.
‘So. About you and Alex,’ says Charlie slowly.
‘There is no me and Alex,’ I say, feeling a tell-tale heat rising in my cheeks. ‘Nice guy, Charlie – but I’m really not his type.’
But all she does is shake her head.
I know things are serious when my mother makes an appearance. She’s looking better than the last time I saw her. Kind of less botoxed and desperate, and far more at home in her own skin. She looks around my flat, slightly shocked I think, but she takes me out for lunch before she drives back to Brighton. It might not be much, but for Julia, it’s the most motherly thing she’s ever done for me.
‘Alice mentioned you’d been overdoing it.’ As she was leaving, she handed me a cheque. ‘I want you to take a holiday – and please accept it, Frankie. Giles left me well provided for. And it’s one thing I can do for you.’
‘Wow.’ Slowly I take it from her, amazed not only at her generosity but that she and Alice have been speaking. ‘That’s really thoughtful of you. Thanks Julia.’
Then that evening, after everything I said to Charlie, lo and behold, Alex arrives on my doorstep. Clutching flowers!
‘I only realised what I’d done after I bought them,’ he says sheepishly, handing them to me.
‘No-one ever buys me flowers, thank you so much,’ I say. It’s true – everyone thinks it’s like taking coals to Newcastle and actually, it really isn’t. ‘Are you coming in?’
‘Thanks.’
He follows me into the kitchen where I unwrap the cellophane to find little white dendrobium orchids mixed with freesia, which are unlike anything I would choose and smell gorgeous.
‘These are lovely, you shouldn’t have.’
‘Phew. Glad you like them. Could have been a bit embarrassing…’
‘So, are you checking up on me?’ I ask him, wondering if he too is on my unofficial list of minders.
‘Absolutely,’ he says. ‘But I have an ulterior motive…’
‘You do?’ I bat my eyelashes demurely at him. ‘Which is…?’
‘To take you out for dinner,’ he says. ‘Only last time didn’t go quite as I’d hoped, you know, what with you passing out and all that. There’s this Italian place in All Hallows – what do you think?’
I think it’s great, though I can’t for the life of me understand why he’s doing this. He’s being really nice, but he’s made it clear enough in the past what he thinks of me.
‘I’d love to. Only do mind if I go and get changed? I’d prefer not to go out in these…’
I glance down at my checked pyjama bottoms and he grins.
More appropriately attired in jeans and a cotton blouse, I think nothing of the little shock I get when my arm brushes against his in the car, nor the fact that he takes me to this amazing little bistro, not Domino’s pizza like I expected.
‘This is lovely,’ I tell him, looking around at the bare walls and wood floors. It’s warm and cosy with delicious food smells wafting out from the kitchen. We sit at this little corner table drinking a rather nice chianti, then he leans back and frowns at me.
‘What?’ I say, squirming uncomfortably under his gaze.
He hesitates. ‘I er – think I owe you an apology.’ He folds his arms.
Now I wasn’t expecting that. I stare at him, slightly suspiciously. ‘Are you sure? Because I can’t think why you would…’
‘I really got you wrong, didn’t I? I’m not sure quite how that happened, because usually, I get a feeling about people…’
Oh. That. And suddenly, I’m in a quandary, because I can accept his apology and leave him none the wiser – or come clean.
I sigh. ‘Look, you weren’t wrong at all, Alex. I really am – was – all those things you thought about me. Worse, probably. So you don’t owe me an apology at all.’
He shakes his head. ‘I see it differently. When we met that first time, okay, you were hungover, but then everyone has days like that – and you just gave the impression that you sailed through life in your happy place, oblivious to the misery of the rest of us.’
‘I’m a happy person. What’s wrong with that?’ I say in a martyred voice.
‘Exactly,’ he leans forward. ‘Nothing – and it doesn’t mean you don’t do some amazing things, because you do. Helping at Briarwood, being a good friend… I didn’t see all that. Not to start with.’
‘Gosh,’ I say, staring at the tablecloth. ‘But you don’t know the half of it – really you don’t. I’m a terrible person. I threw my ex out when he was homeless. Then I led Josh on just so I could throw him off the scent of Maria’s wedding… and I did get pissed too much and I’m really a shallow, frivolous sort of person, just so you don’t have any false preconceptions about me. I think I’ve covered the worst things.’
He sits back again, then he laughs. After all these months of agonising, he actually laughs.
‘Shall we order?’
After that we talk. Properly. I even tell him about Julia and I get the chance to ask the question I’m itching to ask.
‘So, how long have you had your er, lodger?’ I say casually, through a mouthful of the most delicious spaghetti alle vongole.
‘About a year now. And er, she is just my lodger, just so you know.’
‘So does that mean you’re single then?’ I ask quietly, hugging myself with glee.
‘It would seem that way – you?’
‘I chucked Greg out months ago,’ I tell him, my heart doing a dance. ‘No regrets.’ Then realising I sound completely unfeeling, add ‘it was the best thing for both of us.’
‘Quite.’
‘This is delicious,’ I tell him. ‘I’ve eaten more these last few days than in weeks, what with Nina and Charlie, and now you taking me out…’
‘Good. Glad you’re enjoying it.’
So full I couldn’t eat another mouthful, it’s late when we leave there and slowly walk back to his car. There’s definitely an autumnal feel in the air, and I shiver slightly, pulling my jacket more tightly round me.
‘Are you cold?’ He slips an arm round my shoulders and my body responds to his so strongly that suddenly I’m anything but.
‘You know they’re all worried about you, don’t you? Your friends?’
‘They really don’t need to be. I’m much better,’ I tell him.
‘Maybe you need someone
to keep an eye on you,’ he suggests.
‘God, no! I lived with Honey for quite long enough, thank you and they’re all fussing round like mother hens as it is…’
‘I wasn’t thinking about Honey.’
‘Oh…’ I’m slightly shocked. And confused. In fact, just what is he suggesting? But when he stops under the dim glow of a streetlamp and pulls me towards him, I find out.
And with his lips on mine, my heart practically bursts out of my chest at that point. Oh my God! He’s kissing me…
And as I melt against him, suddenly, I realise I was right. When it happens, you know. That this, here, with Alex, is exactly how it should be, in the arms of someone who really cares, someone I truly belong with.
‘So what do you say?’ he says softly, pulling away just slightly and gazing at me.
‘Um, I suppose we could try it,’ I say casually. ‘I just need to be sure you’re not too bossy or anything… Actually, I need to be quite sure about the whole kissing thing too – would you mind?’
And he doesn’t – not one bit.
It’s been an extraordinary week and I really am walking on air, though I suddenly remember I’ve been ignoring my sister and on Thursday night, my first alone in ages, I call her.
‘Hello? Alice? It’s me…’
‘Oh Frankie…’ she says, sounding sleepy. ‘It’s late... Can’t you ring in the morning?’
‘I just wanted to know if you’re in this Saturday, that’s all.’ Huffily – she doesn’t even sound that pleased it’s me.
‘I’m going out – but Dave and Martha will be here.’
‘I was wondering – could I borrow Martha? For the day?’
‘Can’t we talk about this tomorrow?’ She yawns down the phone at me.
‘Is that a yes, Al?’ I’m dying to tell her about Alex, but it’ll have to wait until she’s fully conscious.
‘Ok.’
41
It works out quite well, because by the time we get to Lulubelle’s, we’re just in time for lunch.
‘Auntie Frankie got us sweets,’ says Martha shyly, handing her the small paper bag. ‘We went to Mr Crowley’s shop. He was cross.’
‘Was he?’ Lulubelle crouches down to Martha’s height. ‘I’ll tell you something, sweetie. He gets cross with your Auntie Frankie too – did she tell you?’
‘All I was buying was some lemons,’ I say innocently. ‘And a bottle of tonic water. Sill old…’ I roll my eyes. ‘Can’t imagine what his problem was!’
‘Thank you for these,’ Lulubelle say to Martha. ‘Shall we have them after lunch?’
Martha’s face falls, but then Cosmo appears and she looks shy again.
‘New goalie for you,’ I tell him. ‘Her name’s Martha. But she needs some training. And be gentle.’
Once he gets over that she’s a girl, they go tearing off across the garden. Martha’s shyness is soon forgotten and in no time there’s enough shrieking out there for about ten children.
‘So how’s he been?’ I ask, as we set the table for lunch.
‘After all that worry, he seems fine. There’ve been no more of those episodes. Oh, and we’ve been over to Daddy’s. It was great, actually. He swam and Maria took him for a ride on a tractor. Cosmo really liked them both.’
It seems Lulubelle’s laid a ghost or two for good.
‘It’s an amazing place, isn’t it? I went there to talk flowers with Maria,’ I explain hastily, seeing her look of surprise. ‘And those horses too…’
It’s still odd knowing that I met Maria before she did. Not that it matters... ‘I know. My father wants to buy a little pony for Cosmo...’
Which I guess is just one of the advantages of having a rock star for a grandfather.
Lunch is pizza – for Martha’s benefit, though I notice she leaves some, which isn’t like her. Then after huge bowls of ice cream, Lulubelle and I relax in the sun while the children disappear off to make a den.
‘There haven’t been enough days like this,’ she tells me. ‘It’s all I’ve ever wanted, really, to be blissfully, fantastically normal! They get on so well, don’t they? Cosmo doesn’t see enough healthy kids – some of the mothers find it too awkward, I suppose the word is. I think they’re scared it’s contagious. But not all of them though – and Martha’s great.’
We listen to the shrieking from the bottom of the garden. Like she said, it’s all so normal.
‘Well, with luck, the worst is behind him,’ I say. ‘And there’ll be lots more times like this in years to come.’
I want to believe it as much as she does. In fact, the conversation is still hanging in the air between us when out of the blue, the quiet is shattered by Martha, who comes tearing up the garden, screaming and crying, flinging herself into my arms. I feel my blood run cold. Cosmo’s nowhere to be seen. Instinctively I know something’s wrong.
‘Martha! What is it? Tell me!’ I hold on to her. ‘What’s happened?’
‘He’s fallen over and he can’t get up…’ she sobs.
But Lulubelle’s already halfway across the garden. We follow. Under one of the trees, Cosmo’s body is very still, as if he’s sleeping. She shakes him.
‘Baby? Cosmo? It’s Mummy…’
But he doesn’t stir. Oh God, oh God… What if he doesn’t wake up? It’s the worst moment, the one I’ve dreaded. Oh please God, I’ll do anything, just don’t let this be it…
‘Call an ambulance,’ she screams. ‘Quick…’
Holding Martha’s hand, I run back up the garden trying to get a signal. Cosmo’s eyes are closed. He’s breathing, but it’s barely a whisper.
‘Ambulance,’ I cry, when at last I get through, giving them the address but hating how long it’s taking. ‘Please, please hurry…’
By the time I’ve made the call, Lulubelle’s coming up the garden, cradling him.
‘They’re on their way…’
Her face is stricken and there’s a look of anguish in her eyes. ‘This is all my fault, Frankie… Remember, weeks ago, I told you he wasn’t right… I should have taken him to hospital but I didn’t…’
‘You didn’t know,’ I tell her. ‘I saw him too. He was fine…’
But she shakes her head. ‘You should go. Take Martha home. Before the ambulance…’
She’s right. This is scary enough for Martha without seeing him carted off in an ambulance. ‘I don’t want to leave you on your own. I’ll call your Mum…’
Only then the ambulance arrives and I whisk Martha away. All we can do now is wait.
42
It’s another picture that’s burned into my memory. Lulubelle, sitting on the ground, cradling Cosmo’s limp body in her arms, her face as white as his, her eyes wide with terror.
The ambulance seemed to take an age. I helped Lulubelle into the house, where she sat on the sofa, her eyes fixed on Cosmo’s face as she whispered gently to him. Then I called Lulubelle’s mother, who came straight over. At that point, I took Martha home – reluctantly, but she was frightened enough without watching Cosmo being rushed off in an ambulance.
‘You do know it really wasn’t anything to do with you,’ I explain to Martha, on the way. ‘Cosmo’s very sick. Everyone thought he was getting better until today.’
‘He has cancer, Auntie Frankie. He told me.’ Her little face screwed up. ‘What’s cancer?’
‘He has something wrong with his blood. It’s got bad things in it which make him poorly.’
‘He said that’s why his mummy doesn’t give him pizza.’
And then I click. ‘Pizza doesn’t give you cancer, honey… Just some people believe that if you eat the right foods, it can help you get better – and some are not so good.’
‘Is that why he was ill again?’
‘No. It was nothing to do with it. I had pizza too, remember – and so did Lulubelle. Come on. Let’s go in.’
Once we’re inside, I explain to Dave what’s happened and he’s very understanding, just picks up Martha and gives her
a hug, then suggests they go and watch a film together, winking at me and mouthing ‘thanks’, as he carries her into the sitting room.
Then I go home to wait for news from Lulubelle.
Eventually, my phone does ring and I leap to get it – only it’s not her.
‘How could you?’ rages my sister. ‘Poor Martha is traumatised. Whatever were you thinking of, Frankie?’
‘They had a great time,’ I say carefully. ‘Did you ask her about any of it, Alice? How they played football, had pizza for lunch then made a den? That Cosmo was supposed to be in remission and now, it’s looking likely that he’s not? I’m really sorry Martha was so upset,’ I tell her. ‘But she’s a good kid and she’ll be fine, whereas Cosmo, on the other hand, might not be.’
It has the desired effect and I can hear Alice deflate down the telephone.
‘It’s just that I wish you’d asked me, that’s all.’
‘What – if I could take my niece to see a friend who’s little boy has been ill? Oh Al… Get real…’
‘Well, next time, just ask me – okay?’
She hangs up, leaving me feeling even sadder.
When Alex calls me that evening, I tell him what’s happened and promise to let him know when I hear from Lulubelle. But it’s hours before she calls to tell me Cosmo’s been admitted, which was what she said would happen. She sounds small and very frightened.
‘Let me come and sit with you,’ I offer.
‘Mum’s here, Frankie. Honestly, don’t worry. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’
And the waiting begins - for more tests, the results of which we can only guess at. Even to me, it’s unbearable.
43
I make a posy for Lulubelle. Mrs Orange would be proud of me. No ordinary posy, either – every stem chosen with care and love. There’s heather for luck, little twigs of oak for strength and the first snowdrops for hope – Milo’s excelled himself, I’ve never seen them this early.
I can’t bear the thought of waiting until she calls me, so I go over to her cottage, where her car is parked outside. As she opens the door, she looks as though she hasn’t had a wink of sleep. Her eyes are red and there are huge black circles under her eyes.
Wildflowers Page 24
