The Frances Garrood Collection

by Frances Garrood

  “Gosh, you really did, didn’t you?” Alice moved closer and put her arm round Gabs’ shoulders.

  Gabs nodded. “Yes, I did. I’m not sure that I really loved him… before. I lusted after him to such an extent that I think I interpreted it as love. But now…” She stifled a sob. “After the way he’s behaved, the way he was with me… I don’t think I’ve ever met such a good person. I mean really, truly good.” She blew her nose. “And of course I shall never see him again. Or probably anyone like him.” She started to sob again. “Oh, what shall I do? Whatever am I going to do?”

  “You might,” Alice said after a moment. “Meet someone like him, I mean. You’re still so young, Gabs. You’ve got time.” Her voice sounded wistful.

  “Have I? Have I really? I don’t think so. I’ve been round the block so many times, Alice. I’ve met so many men. Okay, so most of them were just out for what they could get, but I have met one or two good ones as well. But never anyone like him. There — there just isn’t anyone like him.”

  “Would you want to — to be with anyone like that? Anyone — well, that good?” Mavis asked.

  “You mean, I could never be good enough for him.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Well, you’d have a point. I’m not good enough. Not nearly good enough. But I could change. I would change. I’ve never wanted to change before — never really seen the need — but he’s shown me what I might be. He’s made me realise that I could be a — well, a better person. And I’d like to be a better person, for him. I’d do anything — anything — for him. To make him happy. But of course, now I’ll never have the chance.” She plucked at the grass and then wiped her hand on her jeans. “And I’m worried about him. How he is. How he’s coping. I’ve put him in this — this terrible situation, and I can’t do anything to help him out of it.”

  “He’ll be all right,” Alice said. “He’s got his God, and I’m sure there’ll be good support for him. This kind of thing must happen quite often.” She squeezed Gabs’ shoulder. “And you’ll be all right too, one day. Not yet, maybe. But one day.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Gabs wiped away tears. “But I’ll never be the same again.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Probably not. But I would have liked to change for him. There isn’t anyone else to change for. I know that sounds silly, but no one else really cares how I am. My friends think my lifestyle’s a bit of a laugh, and of course Steph disapproves. But no one really cares.”

  “We care, don’t we, Mavis? Not in a judging kind of way, but because it would be good if you could be really happy. And I can’t believe that your lifestyle, as you put it, makes you happy.”

  “Ah, but the money does,” said Gabs, with the glimmer of a smile.

  “Gabs, you’re incorrigible!”

  “Yeah. That’s my trouble, isn’t it?”

  “Bad,” Maudie said through a mouthful of doughnut. “Bad!”

  “Oh, Maudie, if you only knew.” Gabs got up and rescued half a sandwich that had become stranded on its journey down Maudie’s substantial bosom. “If you only knew. Anyway, enough about me. How are you, Alice?”

  “Pretty bloody,” Alice said. “Jay and I had this weekend together, and I practically ruined it. If Jay hadn’t been so understanding, it would have been completely wasted. Bugger, I think that’s my mobile.” She got up and retrieved her bag from the back seat of the car.

  The others waited as Alice spoke on the phone. Evidently the news wasn’t good.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, beginning to gather up her things. “I have to go. Finn’s had an accident.”

  “What kind of accident?” Mavis asked.

  “He’s in A & E. They think he’s broken his arm.”

  “Heavens! Is he okay?” Gabs asked.

  “They say he is, but they’ve been trying to get me for the last hour, and I didn’t hear my phone. Apparently Trot’s with him.”

  “Well, that’s something,” Mavis said.

  “You don’t know Trot. He’s no use at all in an emergency.” Alice paused. “I’m afraid that means you’ll all have to come with me, because of the car. But at least it’s on the way back to Maudie’s place. Is that okay?”

  “Of course,” said Gabs, who had an appointment with Gerald later on and had not been looking forward to it (things had moved way beyond Best in Show at Crufts, and she would be glad of an excuse to cancel him).

  “Let’s go, then.”

  They arrived at the hospital half an hour later, and after some discussion, Alice went on ahead while Gabs and Mavis commandeered a wheelchair for Maudie, who appeared to be sound asleep. This could take some time, and they could hardly leave her in the car.

  When they caught up with Alice, she and Finn were waiting for Finn’s arm to be plastered. Trot had apparently gone in search of tea.

  “How’s it going?” Gabs asked.

  “Painful,” said Finn, nursing his arm. “Fractured radius.”

  “How did you do it?”

  “I fell off a radiator.”

  “How on earth…?”

  “Don’t ask,” said Alice, who was obviously not in the best of moods.

  Finn pulled a face at Gabs, who winked at him.

  “Bad,” remarked Maudie, who had woken up.

  “Too right,” said Finn.

  “Slumpish.”

  “I’ll say.”

  Trot appeared with two polystyrene cups of tea. He too brightened when he saw Gabs.

  “Well, hi,” he said. Then he turned to Alice. “You took your time,” he said.

  “I didn’t hear my mobile.”

  “Good job I had mine, then.”

  “There’s no need to look so smug, Trot. I think this must be the first time you’ve ever actually had to be on medical standby, and I’m sure you did an excellent job.”

  “Fucking animal,” said Maudie, yawning.

  “What?” Trot handed tea to Finn.

  “Don’t mind Mother,” Mavis said. “She doesn’t mean it.”

  “Oh yes, she does. We had an — incident with a monkey,” Alice said. “It got into the car in the safari park.”

  “I wish I’d been there!” Finn said.

  “No, you don’t,” Alice told him. “Believe me, no one needs a monkey in the car.”

  “I have to make a phone call,” Gabs said. “I’ll be back.”

  She went out into the carpark and dialled Gerald’s number. He would be cross and disappointed, but it couldn’t be helped. She rarely let her clients down — it was bad for business — but this was unavoidable.

  Gerald’s phone was switched off, which was a relief, so she left him a message. The Gerald thing was getting out of hand, and it was really time to call it a day, but the money was good and she knew he’d be terribly upset if she were to discontinue their meetings. Last week, he had actually proposed to her, and for a brief moment, Gabs had had a nightmarish image of herself walking down the aisle in her wedding dress, with Gerald padding along beside her wearing his diamond-studded collar and lead, all panting tongue and dangling balls. Of course, it wouldn’t really have been like that. When he wasn’t with Gabs, Gerald was a chartered accountant who played golf on Saturdays and lived a perfectly respectable life. Most of them did. But even if she wanted to marry him — even if he gave up his dog act altogether — she would never be able to see him as anything else.

  As she walked back towards the hospital, Gabs wondered why it was that she had never received a proposal from a normal man. It wasn’t as though she never met any. But such proposals as she had had included one from a divorced brain surgeon with a predilection for sheepskin rugs and high heels (he wore the heels), and a wannabe dairy farmer, who pretended to milk Gabs’ substantial breasts into a galvanised iron bucket. Hardly husband material, even for someone as unconventional as Gabs.

  She took a small mirror out of her bag and inspected her face. She looked a mess — all puffy eyes and streaks
of mascara — but for once, she couldn’t have cared less. She looked at her watch and decided she probably had time for a quick fag.

  Mavis was having a most unsettling afternoon. She had been genuinely terrified by the monkey incident (unlike the others, she didn’t find monkeys particularly cute, and she was quite sure they were riddled with fleas); she was upset at the state of Maudie, and the fact that she would be returning her to the home too late for tea; and she was also disappointed that she hadn’t had the chance to discuss the Clifford situation. But she told herself that no doubt another meeting could be arranged, and in any case, Finn was more important.

  Looking at Finn and Alice, and their easy, bantering relationship, Mavis found herself wishing that she too had a son. Not a daughter. She wouldn’t have wanted a daughter. But a son — someone who would depend on her but upon whom later on she could depend; someone who would make her laugh (for Mavis could see that Finn had a good sense of humour); someone who was family. Maudie’s illness had brought home to her the fact that without her mother (and if she didn’t count a distant cousin in New Zealand), she was without any kind of family. She imagined a future of solitary Christmases and holidays with single-room supplements, and an eventual old age without anyone who would care enough to make sure that she was well looked after. No one really loves me, she thought, except Mother. No one at all.

  Of course, Clifford loved her in his way, but she could never come first in his life, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to take care of her if she were unable to care for herself. She wasn’t sure that Clifford was capable of taking care of anyone; he had become too self-centred. She tried to imagine him looking after Dorothy if she ever needed it — Clifford hefting Dorothy into those giant knickers; Clifford buttoning blouses and doing zips-ups — and she couldn’t see it happening. Once, when she had broken her wrist, Clifford had tried to help her to dress after their lovemaking, and she had wondered that a man who had on many occasions managed to undo a bra with one hand couldn’t manage to do it up again with two.

  “You all right, Mave?” Trot asked her. “You look a bit thoughtful.”

  “It’s been that kind of afternoon.” Mavis smiled at Trot. He had a kind face, even if he was a bit scruffy and called her Mave. She thought that Alice could do a lot worse than marry him, especially since they had a ready-made family in Finn.

  “Read War and Peace yet, have you?” he asked her.

  “Don’t worry,” Alice said. “Trot knows the score. He just likes teasing people.”

  “As a matter of fact, I have,” Mavis told him.

  “Good, is it?”

  “Long.”

  “Ah. I thought as much.”

  At this point, Finn rejoined them, his arm plastered in a fetching shade of red.

  “They let you choose the colour,” he told them. He seemed to have cheered up.

  “At least it’s your left arm,” Alice said. “You’ll still be able to do your homework.”

  Finn scowled at her.

  “Give the poor guy a break,” Trot said.

  “Just for tonight, then.” Alice patted Finn’s shoulder. “Right. Home everyone. We’ll take Maudie first.”

  “Can I help?” Trot asked.

  “You could take Finn, and give him something to eat.”

  “Sorry. Got a date.”

  “Then why offer?” Alice asked him.

  “It’s what you do, isn’t it?”

  “Only if you mean it. So I suggest you cancel your date and look after your son. We won’t be long.”

  Trot grumbled and complained, but he took Finn with him, and the others piled back into Alice’s car. Mavis marvelled at the ease with which Gabs managed to manhandle Maudie into the front seat, barely waking her in the process (Maudie, exhausted by what had been a long and eventful day, had gone back to sleep), before settling herself beside Mavis in the back.

  By the time they reached Maudie’s institution, it was after nine o’clock, and there was much unlocking and unbolting of doors before a nurse eventually came to meet them.

  “Maudie’s in the car,” Alice told her. “Could we have a wheelchair, please?”

  “You’ll need the hoist.”

  “We can manage without the hoist,” Gabs said. “You get the chair and leave it to me.”

  “But we have to use it. Because of health and safety.”

  “Bugger health and safety. And I don’t have to do anything. I’m nothing to do with this place.”

  “Well, there’s no need to talk to me like that!”

  “We’re all tired,” said Mavis, who could see things getting out of hand. “It’s been a long day.”

  The chair was fetched, and the sleeping Maudie was moved into it with amazing ease, considering Gabs’ diminutive size. Even the nurse seemed impressed.

  She wasn’t quite so impressed when she had had a proper look at Maudie.

  “Oh dear,” she said. “What have we been doing?”

  “We,” said Alice, “have entertained a monkey in the car, had a very sticky picnic, and spent three hours in A & E.”

  “Oh dear. What’s happened to her clothes?”

  “Monkey pee,” Alice told her.

  The nurse looked at her suspiciously. “Has she had anything to eat?”

  “Since lunch? Two bags of crisps and a bar of chocolate.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “There wasn’t anything else. And perhaps you could stop saying ‘oh dear’ and help us get her to her room.”

  While Mavis admired the way Alice spoke to the night nurse (she herself would never have dared to be so bold), she felt that she should be the one to take charge. After all, she was Maudie’s daughter.

  “I’m sorry she’s in such a state,” she said. “I did phone to say we’d be late.”

  The nurse’s expression softened. “Yes, I got the message. Well, you’d better come along.”

  “What, all of us?” Mavis asked.

  “Well, I haven’t got time to put her to bed; I’ve got the hot drinks and the medicines to do.”

  “And I have a wounded son to get home to,” Alice said.

  “That’s not my problem.”

  “But Maudie is?” Alice told her.

  “It’s all right,” said Mavis hastily. “I’ll get her ready for bed and get a taxi home. You two go. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll stay,” Gabs said. “It’ll be quicker with two of us. And,” she added, as the nurse was still hovering, “we shan’t be needing any hoist.”

  In Maudie’s room, Gabs whipped off Maudie’s clothes and gave her a quick wash while Mavis looked out a clean nightie (someone else’s, naturally, but that seemed to be par for the course).

  “There,” Gabs said. “Good as new.” She cleaned Maudie’s dentures and put them on her bedside table, then levered her into bed and tucked her in. “Time to go.” She kissed Maudie’s cheek. “Bye, Maudie.”

  Maudie opened one eye. “Fucking animal,” she said.

  In the back of their shared taxi, Mavis had an overwhelming desire to weep. She was exhausted, she was worried about Maudie, and she couldn’t see any end to an existence that seemed to be fraught with difficulties.

  “You okay?” Gabs asked her.

  “Not really.”

  “Poor Mavis.” Gabs put an arm round her. “Things aren’t easy for you at the moment, are they?”

  “I shouldn’t bother you with my problems. You’ve got enough of your own.”

  “We’ve done my problems,” said Gabs. “It’s your turn now.”

  “Well, it’s just that there doesn’t seem to be anything to look forward to. I know that sounds ridiculous. I’m not a child. I should be able to live without — treats and nice things happening.”

  “We all need treats,” Gabs said. “Even tiny ones. Little pegs to hang our lives on, give them a lift.” She passed Mavis a tissue. “What about Clifford? He being any use?”

  “Not a lot. He’s too preoccupied with his own problems.”


  “But he’s okay now, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. Yes, he is. But d’you know, I think he’d almost rather that he wasn’t. He likes to be the centre of attention, and now that his operation’s over, the attention’s died down a bit. I think he misses it.”

  “He sounds to me like a selfish bastard,” Gabs said. “He seems to walk all over you.”

  “Sometimes it does feel a bit like that.” For a brief moment, Mavis wondered why she hadn’t leapt to Clifford’s defence. “But he never used to be like this. He’s changed since he retired. He can still be very kind, very sweet.”

  “But not at the moment.”

  “No. Not at the moment.”

  “Which is when you need him, isn’t it?” Gabs got out a packet of chewing gum and put a piece in her mouth. “Stops me thinking about the ciggies,” she explained. “Want some?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Mavis, why do you stay with him?”

  “I keep asking myself that,” Mavis said. “And I don’t really know.”

  “Is it because there isn’t anyone else?”

  “I suppose that’s part of it. And we go back a long way.”

  “He’s a habit, then.”

  “In a way. And I do love — well, I’m very fond of him. Most of the time.”

  “Who are you trying to convince?”

  “Myself, I suppose. And then there’s — there’s the sex.”

  “Good, is it?”

  “Well, it was. But now Clifford likes to choose what we do — because of his heart, he says — and I don’t always like it.”

  “What is it he wants exactly?”

  Mavis blushed and whispered something in Gabs’ ear.

  “Mmm. You’re right.” Gabs popped another piece of gum in her mouth. “A lot of women wouldn’t do that. There’s more to you than meets the eye, Mavis.”

  “But I suppose it’s better than nothing,” Mavis said. “If Clifford and I finished, would I ever have any kind of — physical relationship again?”

  “Course you would. There are plenty of blokes out there, Mavis. You’ve got lovely eyes and nice boobs. You underestimate yourself.”

  That night, after Mavis had got home, Clifford phoned. She told him about the outing to the safari park, but he didn’t seem particularly interested, merely remarking that they had been “very stupid to let that old woman open the car window.”