False Wall

by Veronica Heley

  Prompt on cue, down the stairs came Magnificent Maggie, a scarlet ribbon in her dark hair, wearing a billowing, matching scarlet kaftan. Maggie looked terrific, and ready to pop at any minute. She was waving a tablet and a pad of paper, and talking on the phone. Maggie had always been able to multitask. ‘So when I say tomorrow, you’re not going to tell me you can’t do anything for a week, are you …?’ She caught Bea up in a hug, and propelled her into the kitchen, still talking. ‘No, that is not acceptable. My client needs … Yes, that’s more like it. Tomorrow morning, before noon. I’ll be here to let you in.’

  Bea said, ‘Maggie …?’

  Maggie shut off her phone, said, ‘Just a mo,’ tapped away on her tablet and made some notes on the pad of paper, too. Then, with an enormous sigh, she shifted herself on to a stool and smiled widely. ‘I love you for needing me. This is so much more fun than sitting at home looking at the telly.’

  ‘You’re supposed to be taking it easy—’

  ‘Taking it easy drives me mad. And then I drive Zander mad. The babe isn’t due for another week, and you’re not going to refuse the services of the best project manager in town, are you?’ She shoved the pad of paper at Bea. ‘Priority: electricity, telephone and security. Right? They’ve all promised to attend tomorrow. And yes, I did check with Hari that I was using the right people.’

  Bea was astounded, and then told herself that she ought not to have been surprised. Maggie could pull rabbits out of a hat quicker than anyone else she knew. Bravo, Maggie. Bea switched the kettle on and, wonder of wonders!, it responded. It seemed that boiling a kettle was the appropriate thing to do, though goodness knows there were a dozen other things that she suspected she ought to be doing at that very moment, but couldn’t think what they were. ‘Security? You mean the alarm system?’

  ‘That as well, but lower down the list. No, I’m having metal—’

  Betty erupted into the kitchen, holding out Bea’s phone. ‘I said you were tied up and they asked to speak to Carrie, but …’ A shrug.

  Bea took the call, from a customer who was distraught to think that all her arrangements for a silver wedding party might be at risk because of the fire. Bea soothed, explained and handed the phone back to Betty. And then thought, How had the woman known about the fire?

  Maggie, meanwhile, had been on the phone again. ‘So what you’re saying is that if we get some heaters in to dry the place out …?’

  The kettle boiled. Bea made tea and located the biscuit tin, which was not where she’d left it. Surprise, surprise! Only one biscuit left. Luckily she’d had the forethought to hide one packet away. She retrieved it from the cupboard and emptied it into the tin.

  Betty brought the phone back in. ‘Sorry, Mrs Abbot. It’s Carrie this time. She says she’s gone down with flu.’ Bea and Betty exchanged glances which conveyed a lot more than irritation and concern. On Betty’s part there was grim anger that Carrie should let them down when they needed her so badly. On Bea’s part there was irritation and – faintly – a light at the end of the tunnel as she considered a future without Carrie.

  Bea took the phone, listened to excuses. ‘Of course, Carrie. Take as much time as you need. Betty can take your place till you get back.’ She shut off the call, and handed the phone back to Betty with raised eyebrows. ‘Do you want her job, temporary or otherwise?’

  Betty hesitated. ‘She might really be ill.’

  ‘Sure. But if she doesn’t come back, the job is yours. If you want it.’

  ‘I haven’t worked here for very long and—’

  ‘You’ve been here long enough to know who does what, why and when. You don’t lose your head in an emergency, you don’t mind what you’re asked to do, and you have a nice little boy who probably ought to be hauled away from the chain gang and put under the shower to clean him up. That is, if we have any hot water, which we may not. So, do you want the job, temporarily, until we see which way Carrie jumps?’

  ‘Can do.’ Betty started for the stairs. ‘As for the boy, he’s like his father. Never did know his limits.’

  Maggie shut off her phone, made more notes and said, ‘Security. I got Hari to measure up. You need at least eight – probably nine – metal mesh ‘gate panels’ to enclose the bottom of your garden. Three metres high. With padlocks. Delivery by noon tomorrow.’

  Bea closed her eyes for a moment and put out a hand to steady herself. ‘That’s … a relief.’ She propelled herself to the fridge. No time to faint. Tea all round. There was only one carton of milk left. As Mummy Bear might have said, ‘Who’s been drinking my milk?’

  She made Maggie a mug of tea and pushed it towards her.

  Now, if the power was back on in the kitchen, was the fridge working again and what about the freezer? And, what had Anna done with the food she’d taken out of it?

  Maggie sipped tea, and eased her back. Was she having a contraction?

  Betty put her head round the door, eyebrows raised, mobile in hand.

  ‘No,’ said Bea. ‘You deal with it. You’re the office manageress for the time being, aren’t you? Is the boy all right?’

  ‘I can’t prise him off the stack of logs he’s building. He’s a bit OCD, wants everything perfectly aligned. Thinks you should install a wood-burning stove …’ And off she went, talking into the phone.

  Bea said, blankly, ‘Probably the most useful thing I can do is to go out for some more milk and biscuits, and then organize a takeaway.’

  Maggie caught her sleeve. ‘Before you go anywhere, you’d better cast your eye over this schedule.’ Her phone rang, and she answered it. ‘Oh, Oliver? You deserted us to go surfing, and look what happens! You’re on your way back from Cornwall? When are you due in? Can you make your own way back from the station? Right, see you when we see you.’

  Bea picked up Maggie’s discarded cup of tea and drank it. Slowly, with enjoyment.

  ‘So, Oliver’s coming back. Good. He can sleep in his old room. I think I made the bed up with clean sheets after his last visit.’

  ‘What about your current lodger? The one with the orange jeans. He’s away for the weekend?’

  ‘Abroad on a job. He’s been sleeping in what was your room. I’d better ring him and ask if he can commute from the family pile for the time being. He won’t want to put up with cold water in the shower. Which reminds me. Where is Dilys? I haven’t seen her for ages. She’s just silly enough to start in labour and think she shouldn’t tell anyone because we’re all busy.’

  ‘It’s all right, I put her in with Piers and told her to tell him if she got so much as a tiny twinge.’

  ‘Piers? What’s he doing here?’ Bea had forgotten about her first husband.

  ‘Painting. Not to be interrupted. Hari asked him to take some stuff to the lab this morning. On the way he picked up some painting materials, brought them back here and started work in the top flat. He said he wanted you to give him an hour before the light goes, but I’ve forgotten to tell you, and I think you should forget about it, too. As for Dilys, surely she’d have the sense to say if her waters broke?’

  They looked at one another in sudden alarm. ‘Or would she?’ Bea started for the hall. ‘If Piers is painting, he wouldn’t notice if someone threw a grenade into the room …’

  Maggie came after her, but more slowly. ‘Go ahead, Mrs A. You can climb the stairs quicker than I at the moment.’

  Bea was panting by the time she reached the top of the house. She stood still, hand on throat, thinking she was getting too old for this lark.

  The door to the bedroom that used to be Maggie’s, and which was now used by her latest lodger, was open. She could see Piers’s back. He was working at an easel and didn’t even hear her.

  Dilys drifted into the doorway, saying, ‘Anything I can do? I’ve had a lovely rest and Baby’s not too active, and it’s only the Something Hicks that’s contracting—’

  ‘Braxton Hicks, false contractions.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. So, shall I see about pu
tting some supper together?’

  Bea wanted to say, brutally, ‘With what, you stupid girl!’ For the fridge and freezer were bare, weren’t they? And, incidentally, where had all that food gone? She’d last seen Anna stacking it into cool boxes …

  Well, never mind that now. She managed a smile. ‘Thank you, Dilys, but I think we’ll have to order a takeaway. I also think you should take Keith home and give him—’

  Piers seized hold of Bea’s arm and swung her into the room. ‘Stand just there. No, looking back over your shoulder to me … and don’t move!’ He seized a stick of charcoal and approached his easel, saying, ‘I asked Dilys to stand in for you, but … Don’t Move!’

  ‘Piers, I can’t sit for you at the—’

  ‘DON’T MOVE! I need to—’

  Maggie appeared in the doorway, holding on to her bump. ‘Piers, you may not have noticed, but the light is going.’

  ‘Two minutes more!’

  Bea held her breath. Piers worked on his canvas with a sort of contained fury, and then threw his charcoal on to the floor and wiped his hands on a rag. ‘There!’

  Bea looked down at the charcoal stick. So did Dilys and Maggie. Who was going to pick it up? It wouldn’t occur to Piers to do so.

  Dilys said, ‘I don’t think I can get down there at the moment.’

  ‘Of course you can’t,’ said Bea. She bent down to pick it up herself.

  Maggie was amused. ‘I hate men …!’

  Piers reddened. ‘What was that?’ but he didn’t apologize.

  Bea looked around. Piers’s painting materials covered every surface in sight. ‘Maggie, remind me to get hold of my lodger with the orange jeans to make sure he’s not coming back tonight.’

  Piers said, ‘Don’t bother. I can put everything in the sitting room next door, ready to start again tomorrow morning.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘And now … I’m hungry. Shall I go and fetch something for us to eat? Is the electricity back on yet? How’s Hari coping?’ Without waiting for a reply, he swung off down the stairs.

  Dilys made as if to pick up some of his equipment, until Bea stopped her. ‘Leave it. He’s got to learn. You have a husband downstairs who’s been working his socks off all day and performed miracles. He needs to be told that you are perfectly all right – which I can see you are – but he should now be taken home and told how wonderful he is and how lucky you are to have him. Right?’

  ‘Oh, but he is wonderful,’ said Dilys, following Piers down the stairs but at a slower pace.

  Bea tried to shift Piers’s easel, and failed.

  Maggie said, ‘You leave that be!’

  At which Bea abandoned the attempt and they both laughed. Bea said, ‘May I ask if you are all right?’

  ‘No, you may not. I’ve got Zander trained, too. We do not ask how I am feeling every half-hour of the day. We have an agreement, the babe and I, that while we are both out enjoying ourselves and not sitting at home moping with nothing to do, we will make the most of it. Babe likes me to be busy. She’s going to be like that, herself. When this is all over and not before, she’ll make her appearance. And you’d better use my phone to ring your lodger and tell him not to come home tonight, right?’

  Late afternoon

  Time for a break. They were all ready for it.

  Anna had replaced the contents of the fridge and freezer, which seemed not much the worse for wear, though it would probably be wise to finish everything off as soon as possible. There was electricity into the kitchen for lighting and for four electrical appliances – which included the microwave – but no hot water. There were new locks on the front and back doors, but no alarm system and no landline. Hari had fixed up a car battery on every floor so that side lights could be used to steer those who were staying to their beds.

  Betty had returned Bea’s phone after switching it over to voicemail, and had taken her son off home, vowing to be back next morning, early. The boy had begged to be let off school so that he could come too, but she’d told him, ‘No’, even though he’d said he could always swing it by saying he had a serious dental appointment.

  The garden was almost clear. Hari and Zander had sawn up practically all of the old tree. Hari reported that the roots had shown signs of rot, and this might have been a factor in the tree’s fall. Two great stacks of wood had been carried through the ‘tomb’ – as the boy had christened the old office rooms – and disposed of by lorry, but another two piles remained to be dealt with on the morrow.

  Hari and Zander had acquired a bale of barbed wire from somewhere and strung it across the bottom of the garden to deter intruders.

  The mess in the garden was still enough to make Bea weep, if she’d had the time and energy to do so. Cherished plants had been broken off at the roots and mashed to pieces, the stone planters were in fragments, trellises dangled off walls, and bird feeders had been tossed hither and yon. Even the pigeons had deserted their usual habitat. The garden shed was a pile of debris no more than a foot high, and it didn’t seem likely that any of the furniture or the tools within would be usable again.

  It really was best to think about something else.

  Keith – after having connected up and tested almost all the new laptops – had been taken home by Dilys, both worrying that the other had been overdoing it. Both said they’d be back early tomorrow.

  Zander had taken Maggie off, too. He’d said he’d try to get leave of absence from his job on the morrow, but Bea knew that he had a responsible job at a charity in the City and had told him not to bother. Maggie had said she’d be there come hell or high water, and nobody mentioned the fact that she looked as if she ought to be heading straight to the maternity ward.

  The journalist had disappeared at some point without saying goodbye. Bea tried not to think about what she might see fit to write.

  Why hadn’t Leon rung? He’d promised to do so. She ached to hear his voice and be able to tell him what had been happening.

  Now and then Bea tried to contact her orange-jeans lodger, but his phone was either engaged or had switched off. Annoying!

  Everyone who was left gathered round the kitchen table to forage for something, anything, to keep them going. They switched their phones to voicemail and told Winston to get off! Which he did for all of sixty seconds.

  Bea had a bet with herself as to which of them Winston would try to charm into giving him some food. She was right. He went for Hari, who most people would have put down as the hard man of the party. Well, he was exactly that in many ways, but he was creamy fudge in the hands of an experienced practitioner like Winston.

  Bea dished out bread and ham and cheese to all, with mugs of tea.

  Hari was like a machine, perpetuum mobile. Never still. Even while he was eating, he was looking over copies of the schedules Maggie had left for him. ‘Electrical contractors, first thing tomorrow. Good people. I know them. They’ll do. Water … mm.’

  Anna said, ‘I’ve got appointments throughout the day tomorrow. I’m wondering if I could cancel the morning interviews and—’

  ‘Don’t think of it,’ said Bea. ‘What you’ve done for me today is beyond praise.’

  ‘I’m staying overnight,’ said Hari, still occupied with paperwork. ‘I can doss down anywhere. A settee if you’ve got one but the floor if necessary. By the way, I think Maggie’s right; if we can get some heaters into the basement to dry it out quickly, we may not need to have the plaster off the walls, or to take the floorboards up.’

  Piers said, ‘I’ll stay, too. Of course. Then I can get an early start on the painting in the morning.’

  Bea had to smile. ‘Piers, Hari has ears like a bat but, from what I remember, you sleep so soundly you wouldn’t hear if a burglar banged into your bed.’

  Piers said, ‘You think we’re going to be burgled?’ He sounded so comical that everyone laughed, though the situ-ation was far from amusing.

  Bea tried to think straight. She didn’t actually know anything, but she was beginning to think
that if she didn’t take precautions, yes, something else would occur to deprive her of her home. Hari obviously thought so, too, or he wouldn’t have said he’d stay the night.

  So, what else could go wrong? Perhaps the water would be cut off? Or, another fire? She’d been able to put her suspicions of the Admiral and his family out of her mind almost completely while she was busy, but now she had a growing conviction that that had been a mistake. Why had they attacked her and Leon? And what were they planning to do next?

  Bea’s phone registered another incoming call. She looked at it, saw who it was from and decided not to answer it till she’d finished eating.

  Anna said, ‘I think moving the agency up a floor is a brilliant idea. You’ll be back on line straight away. The agency is saved, and so are all the jobs of your staff.’

  Anna did not say that she wondered how Bea was going to cope with having her own bedroom turned into a bedsit, and Bea didn’t mention it. In fact, she didn’t dare think about it. Too distressing.

  ‘On the other hand,’ said Anna, ‘there’s going to be considerable disruption here for some time, and Leon’s house is standing empty in the next street. I haven’t observed any police presence in his garden today. Even their tent has gone. You could move in there while this house is being restored to its former glory.’

  No one said anything. No one met Bea’s eye. She thought about it. Lovely, big empty rooms. No furniture … but furniture could be hired, or her own taken round there. There was power and Wi-Fi already laid on. She could move straight in. So, why not? There was a lot to be said for shifting across the way.

  She couldn’t understand why she didn’t jump at the offer. She would talk it through with Leon when he rang.

  ELEVEN

  Sunday evening

  Bea went to the back door and looked out. Hari had replaced the door and window frames, and the glass within them. The new door stood open, giving on to the iron staircase – which couldn’t be used yet.

  She looked down into the garden below. Without the tree, the garden would get a lot more sun. Perhaps she should plan a completely new layout?