by Jules Wake
‘Don’t worry. I’ve known her for twenty-six years. I know what she’s like.’
‘Sorry. That was rude of me. She is your sister.’ Janie drank a large slug of wine and although I wasn’t supposed to see it, I could tell Penny was patting her hand under the table.
With a placatory smile she asked, ‘So where is she?’
I stuck to the version I had told the children. ‘She’s on a yoga retreat but it’s very remote and there have been landslides that have washed the road away so she’s stranded for the time being. But it’s all fine.’ I gave her a cheery grin.
‘Oh, poor you. That’s tough. How are you managing? Alice says you have a… big job. What is it you do?’
Her careful choice of words and gentle sympathy made me like her all the more.
‘Oh, I work for an accountancy firm.’ I gave a quick shrug as if it were no big deal. Not so long ago I’d have said I was Head of Retail Construction Accounting and reeled off the name of the company which most people in the area had heard of. They were the big boys in the north of England. Now though, my title didn’t seem that important. ‘But I’ve been on… sabbatical’—okay, so I couldn’t quite own the stigma of stress yet—‘for a while, which is why Alice left me with the girls, but it was only supposed to be a week.’
‘A week? Oh, I thought Alice said she’d be away for two. I must have got that wrong.’
Janie shot me a knowing glance.
‘Well, it’s been fine up to now. I’ve rather enjoyed having them but in another week and a half I’m due back at work.’ I felt so much better that there was no reason for Dr Boulter to sign me off again and I’d worked out my strategy for going back to work. I was going to manage my time better and if I couldn’t do something I was going to say so. Hilda’s forthright attitude had taught me the value of that. I would delegate more to the team, especially that lazy git Geoff who I knew had time because he’d boasted, when he didn’t realise I could hear, that he deliberately strung things out so he couldn’t be given anything else. Well, that was about to change. And I would learn the art of saying no and stop thinking of myself as invincible. I’d accepted that partnership was probably out of reach which took the pressure off. I didn’t need to be the best all the time and I was going to be strict with my working hours – which I was going to have to be anyway now that I’d have the girls, although that was something that was worrying me. What was I going to do about childcare?
‘If Alice isn’t back by then, I’m not sure what I’ll do.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that. There’s a great After-school Club at the school and if you get really stuck I can always help out. Poppy and my Sarah are quite good friends. Poppy’s a lovely girl and Ava will fit right in with Thomas.’
I stared at her, amazed at her generosity. Why would she offer to do that? As if she read my mind, she beamed at me.
‘And I should have offered before. I feel terrible because now I realise I’ve seen you a couple of times at school and meant to come over and say hello. Why don’t the girls come for tea one night after school, say Thursday, and then you come pick them up at wine o’clock?’
‘That’s really kind of you.’ I blinked, a little overwhelmed at how easily these offers came from her. ‘I’ll get right on to the After-school Club tomorrow.’
‘Rubbish. I should have made a bit more effort. You know what it’s like; we all just get so wrapped up in our own little worlds. I mean, Charles and I have talked about how great a parkrun would be here but we’ve not done anything about it. Good for you for actually trying to make things happen. It’s going to be fantastic for the community. What can I do to help?’
She flicked her hair back over her shoulders as if preparing for action. ‘I know! Douglas Outhwaite, he’s a Harrier. I’m sure he’s in the printing trade. If Janie’s husband does a design, we could get him to print some leaflets.’
Janie slapped her forehead. ‘Doh! Why didn’t I think of that? Course he will; Matt quite often uses him. I’ll get on to him in the morning.’
‘That would be brilliant. I can get the kids to help me distribute the leaflets.’
‘We’ll help. We could all do a different street each night on the way home from school.’
‘If there’s a chance we could lose one of mine, I’m definitely game,’ said Janie with a broad grin.
‘Great. The plan is to hold an open meeting to drum up support for the event and to find volunteers at The Friendly Bean. I can’t believe how everything’s coming together.’
‘Wow, how did you persuade Sascha to do that?’ Penny gave me an admiring glance. ‘Or are you paying her?’
‘No, she offered and it was her idea to supply some cakes.’
‘I bet it was.’ Janie grinned. ‘She’s not daft. Much bigger profit margin on the coffee, if everyone pays for those. You feel obliged if you’re getting free cake. Smart business woman that.’
‘She’s been very helpful.’ I was quick to defend the other woman; she’d done me no harm and had been quite helpful in her own brusque, businesslike way.
‘Sorry, we’re not being horrible,’ chipped in Penny. ‘She has done an amazing job on The Friendly Bean. She’s just not that approachable.’
I could see that Sascha’s cool reserve might not go down so well with Penny’s puppy-like friendliness but I could relate to both women.
By the end of the evening, I’d made a couple of new friends, and somehow Ash and I had been co-opted onto Charles and Penny’s quiz team in aid of the Parish Council fund.
Funny how, in such a short space of time, my life in Churchstone had started to blossom.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Meet me on the corner of Park Road and Abernathy Road at 9.15am. Tell no one. Hx
The text, typical Hilda in Mata Hari mode, made me smile as I dropped the girls off at school on Thursday morning.
‘Can I have a quick word, Miss Harrison?’
My heart sank at Miss Parr’s quietly spoken words as Ava skipped past her into the classroom. What had I forgotten now? I thought I’d caught up on all the paperwork and paid for school dinners and the outstanding trip money.
‘I just wanted to say thank you. It’s really noticeable that Ava is finally getting support at home. I can see an improvement in her reading already. I just wanted to let you know.’
‘Oh. Right. Thanks.’
And with that she retreated into the classroom, leaving me with a bemused smile on my face.
‘Not in trouble then,’ teased Penny.
‘No,’ I grinned at her. ‘Not this time.’
‘I thought I’d let you know that the leaflets are ready and we can start delivering them this week.’
‘Fantastic.’
‘I’ve worked out some routes,’ chipped in Janie. ‘So if you’re up for it, we could start tomorrow night.’ She handed over a photocopied Ordinance Survey map of the area between the park and the school. ‘I’ve highlighted two suggested routes each. Yellow for you, Poppy and Ava, Green for Penny and her mob, and Orange for me. You’ll see mine takes in the corner shop because bribes may be required to keep the little darlings on track.’
I laughed. I’d quickly learned that despite being so disparaging about her offspring, Janie’s children were beautifully behaved and socially confident.
I left my new playground besties and the welcome news that both Poppy and Ava had got places at the Breakfast and After-school Club from the following week and headed off for my assignation, wondering exactly what Hilda was up to. I’d seen her in the park the day before and she hadn’t said anything about meeting like this.
I spotted her in the distance, loitering on the corner, swaddled in a big down coat with an enormous scarf wrapped many times around her neck – the Michelin Man meets boa constrictor – as snug as a bug except that it was high summer. In contrast, I was in a running vest and leggings, as I was due to meet Ash for our second morning run in an hour’s time. We’d both decided as he drove m
e home after meeting the Harriers that we needed to up our game if we were to be the official faces of the Churchstone parkrun and had agreed to meet each morning. It wouldn’t be good if neither of us could get around a 5k course without wheezing like a couple of geriatric badgers.
‘Good morning,’
‘Morning, dear.’ Hilda, hamming it up dreadfully, glanced up and down the street. ‘You weren’t followed were you?’
‘By whom? I’m pretty sure the KGB no longer operate in downtown Churchstone.’
It was a surprise when her face froze in stern rebuke. ‘Don’t be so sure of that.’ And then, like a magic trick, her face changed completely. ‘Now, I’ve got something to show you.’ She held up a set of keys and jangled them. The periwinkle blue eyes brimmed with excitement and she turned and led the way down Abernathy Road, which was home to some of the bigger Victorian villas in the town. She was moving at a brisk trot and I could feel her rising anticipation. We’d gone less than halfway up the street when she stopped abruptly and gestured to a rather grand, double-fronted, cream-painted house with glossy black railings around the large front garden.
‘What do you think?’
I frowned, not knowing what to think. ‘Is this your house?’
She clapped her hands with delight. ‘Yes.’
‘Oh my goodness.’ I stared back down the street. ‘We’re less than five hundred metres from my house.’
‘I know. Fun, isn’t it?’ Her whole face glowed with naughty amusement and she sailed past me up the path to the front door.
‘How long is it since you were here?’ I asked, admiring the original black and white tiled floor in the hallway as Hilda opened up, expecting dust motes to flood the air and the furniture to be covered in Holland cloths like some old stately home.
‘Yesterday,’ she said with a sheepish grin.
‘Yesterday?’ I echoed.
‘Yes, I told you I like to pop in. Watch the television without the old dears twittering at me. And the cleaner comes every other Thursday. So I drop in to have a coffee with her.’
I shook my head in disbelief. ‘I meant how long since you lived here. But how long have you been doing that for?’
Hilda tilted her head, for once sheepish. ‘Actually, the first time I came to visit was the day I met you. I felt a little embarrassed after you’d gone. Ranting about Drearyside was all very well but I realised that instead of moaning I ought to do something about it. So I popped in to see the place and because it was quite a nice day, the sun warmed the lounge, so it wasn’t too cold… so I stayed for an hour and watched an episode of Murder She Wrote.
‘And then I started coming in every now and then. Just checking up on things.’ With one hand she gave an airy wave down the hall before adding with a touch of defiance. ‘And I’ve stayed over a couple of times.’
‘Oh,’ I said, wondering what she expected me to say to that.
‘I said I was at yours.’
‘Ah.’ That explained her son’s suspicion of me.
‘I knew Farquhar would start fretting. I’m a grown woman, for God’s sake. He treats me like I’m in my dotage.’
‘I think he’s just worried about you.’
‘I doubt that very much. More worried I’ll do something foolish with his inheritance. He’s never forgiven me for marrying George. As if I didn’t know exactly what he was like.’ Her eyes dimmed and I could see she was lost in a memory. ‘A complete charmer and a chancer and we had such a lovely time together.’ And then she snapped back to the present. ‘Come.’
I followed her into the house and she led me into the front room on the right. A huge three-sided bay window with a deep cushion-filled window seat let in plenty of light, making the high-ceilinged room bright and welcoming.
I touched the soft velvet pile of one of two Wesley Barrell sofas in dark cranberry. They were well used and very slightly worn but still comfortable-looking, with the sort of classic appearance that never goes out of style. Floor-length curtains in a plush Arts and Crafts-patterned fabric dressed the windows, adding to the feeling of refined opulence. My eyes were drawn to the beautiful little details in the room like the Art Deco-style bronze lamps that dotted the occasional tables at either end of both sofas.
‘This is lovely, Hilda.’
‘I know,’ she said, her usual blithe self-confidence returning. ‘I’ve been spending more and more time here, heating myself up some soup at lunchtime.’
I could see why; it was a lovely home. There were lots of family photos including several black and whites of weddings in the thirties in silver frames arranged on a table near the window. On the walls there was an eclectic mix of landscapes and still lifes, and a full set of bookshelves took up an entire alcove filled with battered paperbacks interspersed with interesting ornaments – glass vases, elegant china figures and painted porcelain plates – that had clearly come from different parts of the world.
‘Daft really, but I just like being here.’ She picked up a little Japanese figure and toyed with it. ‘I miss my things. After my fall I was a little bit confused.’ She frowned and I realised that this was a big admission for Hilda. ‘And Farquhar went on and on about how I wasn’t getting any younger.’ She pursed her lips, exasperation bouncing off her. ‘He’s a good boy but gosh he winds me up. Sometimes I think he’s getting his own back. He never really forgave me for sending him off to boarding school.’ With a sigh, she placed the little figure in the palm of her hand and peered at it as she spoke. ‘And maybe I shouldn’t have done. It was just that, at the time, the business was really taking off. Truth be told, I rather liked jetting off all over the place to auctions with my third husband. Farquhar’s dad had been such a dull, old stick and I hated being incarcerated in a stately home. I’d always been used to being so active and busy. I found the whole motherhood thing rather dull. Maybe it might have been different if I’d had two, but I couldn’t. I rather put my career before him.’ Her fingers tightened on the little Japanese figure, her knuckles whitening. ‘Of course, I regret it now. But what’s done is done. It’s too late, and he’s turned into a pompous, overbearing fool. I’ve no idea where he gets it,’ she said as I bit my tongue at the irony.
I’d have said he was definitely an exaggerated version of his mother.
‘After I had my fall, before I knew it, he’d organised a place at Sunnyside and when I was discharged from hospital, the ambulance took me there.’ Putting the figurine down, she picked up a Chinese jar, fiddling with its lid. ‘Of course, being a man, he didn’t pack any home comforts or any of my favourite things.’
I didn’t say anything for a minute, too bemused by this information. I couldn’t see Hilda putting up with such high‐handed, however well‐meaning, behaviour.
‘I know,’ her eyes danced. ‘Shocking. I think I agreed just to keep the peace.’
Or, I realised with a jolt of sadness, she’d been in worse shape than she was admitting. She always seemed so strong and indomitable.
‘I suppose he wanted to know you’d be safe and cared for,’ I said slowly.
‘You think?’ Hilda said wryly, the amused twinkle back in her eyes. ‘I suspect it was more that he wouldn’t have to worry about getting midnight calls saying I’d had a fall. Someone else could take care of it.’
‘That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?’ Something had struck me about his tapping fingers. I think her son did worry about her; he just wasn’t very good at showing his feelings.
‘Possibly,’ she said, pinching her lips, as I held her gaze. ‘Oh, all right. He might have been a bit worried. And I was quite lonely. It was… well, it wasn’t a good time. And I admit, at first it was nice to have the company; I’d got used to the bustle of being in hospital and not being so independent but then, after a while, it all became rather routine. I thought people there might have a bit more get up and go. Unfortunately, it’s all got up and gone. They’re all ancient or not my cup of tea.
‘When I saw you that morning, I’d be
en at Sunnyside for three months. Chatting with you made me realise the people there were starting to make me feel old. And, despite being surrounded by people, I felt lonely. I don’t want to feel old. You, Ash, and the girls make me feel young and that there’s still a life to live. I was atrophying. That’s why I keep running. To keep going. Although, the first time I ran a marathon it was to spite my third husband who said he didn’t think I could do it.
‘So,’ she spread her arms in an expansive gesture. ‘What do you think?’
With a grin, which hid my real feelings, I said, ‘It’s a beautiful home and I can see why you’d want to come back.’
But it was far too big for one person and I could understand exactly why her son had worried about her.
‘Study, there.’ She pointed to big white-glossed doors as we walked down the wide hallway. ‘Dining room, never gets used. Morning room, gets the sunshine first thing, hence the name.’ She stopped where the hall widened out into a big square space with a broad-stepped staircase running up the left-hand wall. ‘Upstairs, of course. And here, the heart of the house: the kitchen.’ I could tell just be the way she said it that this was her favourite room in the house. She led me through into the huge kitchen with an old-fashioned Victorian-style conservatory at the far end overlooking a long garden. It was vast with a mighty eight-ring range as well as two built-in ovens set into a bank of wooden units. There was a marble-topped island inset with a second sink in front of which were four stools. At the other end of the room was a small dining table with eight chairs arranged around it.
‘God, Hilda, this is wonderful. Isn’t it…?’ My voice trailed away.
‘I know.’ She patted my arm, the light in her eyes fading. ‘It’s a ridiculous house for one person. Any sensible person can see that. Do you think I’m mad?’ Her hand drifted across the marble top. ‘We had this imported especially from Italy. George and I went out there to choose it. Ridiculously extravagant but he… he,’ her breath hitched, ‘he didn’t have much time, poor soul.’
