The Little Cottage in the Country
Page 23
‘How come your mother was talking about her body being on fire? Has she had a cooking accident? Do you want me to call the fire brigade?’
‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ she tried to explain. ‘It was my mother’s attempt at flirting with a mute man called Tony.’ She realised the truth sounded more ridiculous than if she had made something up. ‘Long story,’ she added.
‘Oh, at first I thought I’d misdialled and got through to some phone-sex line.’ She snorted with laughter. ‘I can’t remember when I last phoned one of them.’ There was a long pause before she said, ‘Amy, are you still there?’
‘Yes, how can I help?’
‘Well, it’s Lucinda. I think she needs you.’
Anna’s turn to laugh. ‘Lucinda does not need me. She is not the type of person to ever need me.’
‘Well, actually,’ Angela paused, ‘I was a bit miffed because she asked for you. I went round to see how she was, and well, frankly Amy, she was three pillowcases in the rain.’
‘Three sheets to the wind?’ Anna suggested.
Angela giggled. ‘Oh Amy, you are funny.’
‘What do you want me to do, Angela? I have to be somewhere in a bit.’ She looked at the kitchen clock.
‘Where?’
‘London.’
‘Well, you can’t go before you’ve seen Lucinda.’
‘Angela, I have no choice. I’m looking at flats in London. I have an appointment with an estate agent at four, so Lucinda really will have to wait.’
‘Amy,’ Angela lowered her voice, ‘I think she might do something stupid.’
Anna clenched her stomach and thought for a moment. ‘OK, fine. I’ll be at hers in ten minutes. Meet me outside.’
‘She doesn’t want me there.’ Angela sounded put out.
‘Well, surely, if she’s thinking of doing something stupid, you should be there too? I mean, we need to talk her round.’
‘No can do,’ Angela said. ‘I’m off to yoga.’
‘Angela, you can’t leave me to sort this out.’ Anna put her cool palm to her forehead, wishing away the onset of a headache.
‘Hey, Amy, if she doesn’t want me there. So be it.’
‘When you say she’s going to do something stupid, what do you mean?’
Angela’s tone grew serious. ‘She talked about cleaning the house herself.’
‘You are pulling my leg, right?’
‘No,’ Angela went on. ‘That’s how serious this is.’
‘No, Angela, I always say “yes” to everything and, for once, I’m going to put myself first and say “no”.’
‘Amy, it’s the perfect time because her children are at school.’ She paused. ‘But, actually, I thought you might say that, so I told Lucinda you’d be there within the hour. She’s waiting for you.’
Anna clutched the phone tightly. ‘I don’t have time for this nonsense.’
‘Bye, Amy.’
The phone went dead and footsteps sounded on the stairs.
‘Darling,’ her mother said, bending down to peer at Anna from the staircase, ‘I listened in and I’m afraid you have to go and see Lucinda. You quite simply would be letting down the entire human race if you didn’t.’
‘Mum, seriously, can you stop with the dramatics?’
‘Well, don’t expect me to keep quiet when the poor woman has topped herself. You know, you’ve got to shop your own family sometimes. Harsh, but true.’
Anna drew a long, laboured breath and threw her hands in the air. ‘Fine. I’m going.’
‘Good girl.’
Half an hour later, Anna rang Lucinda’s doorbell. She heard it chime but there was no movement inside the newly built manor house.
‘Lucinda?’ she called out. Eventually, she tried the doorknob and pushed the elaborately carved oak door open. ‘Lucinda?’
Lucinda emerged from a door at the end of the hall, a tall glass in one hand and a mop in the other. Her cheeks were streaked with mascara and her hair looked like a bird might have nested there. She wore a long, pink-silk dressing gown and matching mules.
‘How are you doing?’ Anna asked tentatively.
Lucinda let out a long wail. ‘I almost started cleaning my own house, Anna! What kind of person am I turning into?’
Anna bit back a comment. ‘How are you holding up?’
Lucinda dropped the mop and tottered forward. ‘I’m fine, Anna. Just fine.’ She smiled and released a small hiccup. ‘I may have had one too many but I’m fine.’
‘What are you drinking? A G&T?’
Lucinda threw her head back, barking out an hysterical laugh. ‘None of the T and a lot of the G.’
‘Um, Angela said you wanted to see me.’
‘Come in,’ Lucinda slurred. ‘Lemme get you a drink.’
Anna went to protest but it was too late. Lucinda was already pouring gin into a glass. ‘I’ll give you tonic because mine tastes like shite.’
‘Why are you drinking it like that?’
She smiled. ‘So I can forget about the spectacle I made of myself at school.’
‘Technically,’ Anna said, ‘you weren’t at school.’
Lucinda handed her a glass, liquid spilling over the sides. ‘No, but I heard people were laughing.’
‘With you,’ Anna lied. ‘They thought your acting was brilliant.’
‘Sit,’ she said, flopping back onto a very expensive-looking sofa covered in a damask material. Her gin sloshed onto the cover. ‘Rupert chose it. I don’t care if it’s ruined.’
Anna sat on a matching sofa opposite and sipped gingerly from her drink.
‘Look, everyone knows I wasn’t acting. I’ve humiliated myself in front of everybody. I can never show my face again.’
‘Actually, I think you’ll find people are thinking how brave you are for coming out like that.’
‘Anna, you don’t have to humour me.’
‘Have you spoken to Angela?’
Lucinda drank deeply. ‘No. She came to the door but I didn’t want her to see me like this. I want her to fancy me, not think I’m some sort of Grizabella.’ She paused. ‘Has she said anything about me?’
Anna smiled. ‘She said something about adoring you and you looking hot in your yoga outfit.’
A small smile tugged at the corners of Lucinda’s mouth. ‘Really? She said I look hot in my yoga outfit?’
‘Yeah, she did.’ Anna nodded. ‘You know, you just need to talk to her. Be honest with her.’
‘Dear Anna, I haven’t been honest with myself for the longest time, let alone anyone else.’
‘Well,’ Anna settled back into the sofa, the gin relaxing her muscles. ‘Maybe it’s time you started.’
‘Well, if we’re on the theme of honesty, I’m going to admit something to you.’
‘Go on.’
‘I didn’t bake my cakes.’
‘What?’ Anna raised her eyebrows. ‘You were harping on about them. Plus, we saw you buying the ingredients in Waitrose.’
‘Jane Asher made them for me. I removed the evidence and popped a couple of physalis on top at the last minute.’ She frowned. ‘So, I guess I owe you an apology.’
‘Well, you were very convincing.’ Anna held her glass up. ‘Here’s to normal mothers who don’t bake cakes.’
Lucinda returned the gesture. ‘Here’s to that.’ She smiled. ‘You know the whole zoo thing?’
‘The school day out here? At your house?’
Lucinda nodded. ‘I knew it was ridiculous but I just wanted to spend Rupert’s money, do anything that would make him angry.’ She shook her head and a momentary looks of sadness passed over her face. ‘Here, in Wiltshire, it’s all about who you know, what you wear and where you live. Rupert bought into all that. I did too but, deep down, I’ve always wanted more.’ She looked away shyly. ‘Angela is everything to me and I would live anywhere with her. If she would have me.’
‘And your children?’ Anna laced her fingers around the glass. ‘Are they OK with everythin
g?’
‘They’re staying with friends at the moment while I get myself back together, but, you know, they both said to me they think it’ll be more fun without their daddy around.’
‘Really?’ Anna pulled a face. ‘Only, speaking as a woman whose twins have never had a father figure, I often wonder if I’m enough for them.’
Lucinda nodded. ‘Yeah, Rupert had no time for any of us. Sometimes, it’s for the best when two people don’t end up staying together.’
Anna thought back to Simon coming round to the house earlier that day. ‘My ex wants to see my children.’
‘Do you want him to?’ Lucinda put her glass down and kicked off her mules, pulling her feet under her.
‘At first, I was angry he felt he could just waltz back into their lives and I said as much, but then I realised it’s not really my choice, it’s my children’s, and if they want to see him, then they must.’ Anna gave a half-smile. ‘I guess there was a fifty-fifty chance of him turning up again.’
‘Men, who needs them?’ Lucinda stifled a yawn. ‘Haven’t slept for days now.’
‘You need to look after yourself.’
Lucinda nodded. ‘I know and I will.’ She smiled. ‘Speaking of which, has Horatio told you how he feels yet?’
Anna frowned. ‘How did you know?’
‘I’ve seen the way he looks at you.’
‘I thought you fancied him, if I’m honest,’ Anna said.
‘He’s a terribly handsome and rich man, Anna. You can’t blame a woman for trying her luck. Especially,’ she paused, ‘when she’s in a loveless marriage.’
‘But I thought…’ She shook her head in confusion. ‘You liked Angela?’
‘Darling, I do.’ Lucinda laughed. ‘But what would people think if I started flirting with their wives?’
‘How about not flirting full-stop?’ Anna asked, in earnest.
‘Where would the fun be in that? You know,’ Lucinda said, picking up her glass once more, ‘I married Rupert because my parents thought he was the right man for me. He had money, albeit new wealth. They managed to ignore that fact, though they would have preferred someone with old money. He was charming and charismatic, and they thought our children would be beautiful.’ She laughed. ‘Because of Rupert, not me.’
‘God,’ Anna sighed, ‘that sounds alarmingly like my own mother.’
‘Yeah, well, they were right about one thing.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Our children are beautiful, but Rupert, I found out yesterday, is massively in debt and he’s certainly lost his charm.’
They sat in comfortable silence, drinking and thinking.
‘Why did you ask to see me, Lucinda? I’m not sure I can be much help to you, I’m afraid.’
She looked Anna in the eyes. ‘Because I wanted to tell you my story.’
‘Why?’ Anna said gently. ‘I mean you don’t owe me an explanation.’
‘Oh, I do.’ She sighed heavily. ‘People expect me to be the Lucinda they know and that can become a bit of a popularity contest. Secretly, after a while, I was impressed by you and your friend, the way you stood up to me, didn’t kowtow to me.’ She chuckled. ‘It was quite refreshing.’ She nodded. ‘It’s all so fake around here. I don’t know who my real friends are. Other than Angela.’
Anna nodded. ‘And me.’
‘Really?’ Lucinda smiled. ‘After the way I’ve acted?’
‘Yes, really.’
‘Wow, you’re a forgiving person to boot.’ She kneaded a cushion with her fingers. ‘Also, I wanted to say to you that I know Lady Spencerville very well and about how she’s trying to marry Horatio off to Lady Arabella Ashford. In fact, I know Lady Ashford too.’
Anna frowned. ‘Well, no offence, but I’m leaving and I can’t be bothered with all that.’ She bit the side of her cheek. ‘I gave Horatio his chance to stand up to his mother and he didn’t. That says a lot to me.’
‘Anna, you have to understand that Horatio’s got a lot of responsibility. His father left the house and the care of his mother to him. He can’t abandon that lightly.’
‘Nor can he be afraid of her and not stick up for what he wants,’ Anna spat out. ‘It’s pathetic. He says he loves me and then…’ She looked at the table. ‘And then nothing.’
Lucinda stood and smoothed down her dressing gown. ‘Leave it with me, dear Anna.’ She smiled. ‘I have to get changed into one of my old Lucinda outfits, put on the old Lucinda slap and talk the old Lucinda talk.’
Anna stood, bewildered by Lucinda’s sudden energy and change of spirit. ‘What are you going to do? Don’t you dare talk to Horatio and force him to come and see me. I don’t want charity.’
‘Anna…’ Lucinda came over and put an arm around her, leading her to the front door. ‘He’ll come after you of his own accord.’ She winked. ‘I personally can’t stand Lady Spencerville and would happily destroy her plans. As I’m leaving anyway, I can’t think of a nicer note to leave on.’
‘What should I do?’
‘You do what your heart tells you, but if Horatio comes after you, trust me when I say it was nothing I said. He loves you and would be a fool to let you go.’
Anna turned at the door. ‘I’d be a fool to hang around.’
Leaving Trumpsey Blazey
Anna returned home to find her case had been hidden away by Diane and she spent an hour having to play ‘hot and cold’ with the twins until she found it again.
When she did, all hell broke loose.
‘No, Anna, I won’t let you go.’ Diane stood in front of the door, her arms spanning its width. ‘You’re being stupid.’
‘Tell me something I don’t know,’ her mother muttered.
‘Look, I’m going and that’s the end of that.’ She smiled tiredly. ‘I may not even find anything so I could be back sooner than you think.’
Eventually, Diane relented and stepped away from the door. ‘Anna, you’re running away because you’re hurting. That’s no reason to run.’
‘I’m not hurting. Why would I be hurting?’ She picked up her case for what seemed like the millionth time in the last forty-eight hours.
‘Because you fell in love with Horatio and he’s turned out to be a first-class twit.’
‘I don’t love him.’ Anna raised her chin, trying to push down fizzling hurt and disappointment. ‘How can you fall in love with someone in a month?’
Diane and her mother exchanged pitying looks and shook their heads in unison.
‘OK,’ Anna agreed. ‘Somehow you two have found love in a month, but this chick has been trying for over five years. Actually, scratch that. I now think I didn’t truly love Simon, so maybe I’ve been trying for thirty-two goddamn years. Well, that’s pathetic.’
‘You’re thirty-two, for God’s sake, Anna,’ Diane said, ‘not bloody Methuselah.’
‘Let me go. I’m coming back in a few days anyway and we’ll go from there.’
Anna bent down and hugged the twins. She looked at them individually. ‘You guys OK? You want to go back to London, right?’
Freddie’s eyes glossed over. ‘No, Mummy, I want to stay here with Auntie Dee-Dee and Grandma Linda.’
‘Well,’ Anna said, ‘even if we did stay here, Auntie Dee-Dee and Grandma Linda would have to go away sometime, anyway.’
‘Would we?’ Diane said. ‘I thought we could all live here.’
‘Dee, you’re not helping.’ She shot her friend a look.
‘You OK, Toni?’ Anna said to her daughter.
‘No, I want to stay here with the grass and the sheep.’
‘You see, Anna, you’d be depriving the children of fresh air and milk straight from the cows’ udders, and potatoes still covered in soil and,’ Diane paused, thinking, ‘and the pigs.’
‘As long as they live with my daughter, they’ll get the latter,’ her mother said, flicking through a copy of Hello magazine.
‘Dee, we don’t have those things now. That’s the life I expected would
come out of the country.’
Diane ran over to her. ‘And we could still have it. Who’s to say you couldn’t be a James Herriot and stick your hand up a cow’s arse?’ She nodded. ‘I have every faith you could do that.’
Anna pulled a face. ‘Look, I’ll find a flat with a small garden.’
‘You’ll have to share it with the world and its wife,’ Diane pointed out.
‘I’ll find a flat with a balcony and we’ll buy pot plants and grow, um…’ She thought about it. ‘We’ll grow tomatoes. How about that?’ She looked at the twins.
They shook their heads and Freddie said, ‘I like my school too and Jeremy is my new best friend.’
She kissed them both and shot Diane a hopeful smile. ‘Wish me luck?’
‘Yeah, good luck and all that,’ Diane said without a note of conviction. ‘Hope you suddenly find that London prices have plummeted and there’s less people there and no dog shit on the pavements and room to breathe.’ She went to sit next to Linda. ‘Bon voyage.’
Anna gave up trying to convince Diane she was doing what was best and stepped outside. The November rain was coming down hard and she ran over to her car. Quickly putting her case in the boot, she got in and looked at herself in the rear-view mirror. Anna stared at her own reflection: wondering if she was in fact doing the right thing. Taking a deep breath, she looked to the front door, hoping someone would make an appearance and wave her off. They didn’t and she started the engine up. Anna moved away slowly as the rain continued to pour down.
She could barely see more than a few feet in front of her as the windscreen wipers tried to combat the weather. Anna glanced at the clock and knew she would never make it to London on time. She wondered if it was some sort of strange omen.
She turned left at the bottom of the hill and crawled across the bridge. Then, upon seeing a Land Rover that was side on, up ahead, sitting in the middle of the road, she swore under her breath. Moving towards it, she honked her horn and, when it didn’t move, came to a complete stop.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, some bloody farmer thinking he owns the road,’ she muttered, winding down her window, rain spitting at her. ‘Can you move your car?’ she called out. ‘I have to be somewhere.’ Her voice was lost to the wind and the rain, besides which there was no sign of anybody.