Scuba Dancing

by Nicola Slade

  Rosemary looked slightly shifty for a moment then shrugged. ‘I expect she’ll tell you sometime. Are you staying long? I saw Julia yesterday and she didn’t mention that you were coming down.’

  It was Finn’s turn to look furtive.

  ‘Bit of a long story,’ she confessed. ‘I didn’t know myself till yesterday, it was all a big mess. You know … man trouble, job, flat …’

  Rosemary shot her a sympathetic smile but made no effort to pry.

  ‘You’re going to stay for a while? So you’ll be looking for a job down here now?’

  Finn made a face.

  ‘Depends how Julia feels about it, but yes, that’s the plan. I don’t imagine you …?’

  ‘Sorry,’ Rosemary smiled ruefully. ‘Not unless you fancy a spot of unpaid babysitting.’ Reminded, she turned back to the car. ‘Drop in sometime for a coffee? I promise to keep Margot under control. It’s the bungalow opposite the church. Julia will tell you, come with or without her.’

  As Rosemary Clavering started to pull away from the kerb Finn waved her to a halt as a thought struck her.

  ‘Um … I don’t suppose you’ve any idea where my sister might be, have you? I know it sounds mad but she seems to have gone out already. She’s always loved her bed in the mornings … do you think I ought to worry?’

  She was taken aback at the other woman’s peal of laughter.

  ‘Oh honestly, listen to yourself! How long have you known Julia? She’ll be fine, your sister’s a big girl after all. She’s just on a health kick at the moment. I expect she’s gone jogging. She was okay at the meeting last night, maybe she’s dropped in on one of the others.’

  “Meeting” – there it was again. Finn was intrigued. And “the others”? What others? What was her sister up to? And what did Rosemary mean, “jogging”? Julia had always been vociferous on the topic of exercise: fine for other people but not, definitely not, for her.

  ****

  After a belated shower and a bowl of cereal Finn was shoving some clothes into the washing machine when she heard a key in the front door. Straightening up, she wiped her hands on a towel and strolled into the hall.

  ‘Well, young lady? What have you got to say for yourself?’

  ‘Coming home at this hour, do you mean?’ Julia grinned and gave her sister an enveloping hug. ‘Didn’t you forget the bit about using the house as a hotel? Is the kettle not on? I’m gasping for a cup of tea.’

  ‘It’s all very well,’ Finn said severely as she handed her a mug tea. ‘But this hour of the morning? Suppose there’d been an emergency? I wouldn’t have known where to … Oh!’ she broke off and shot Julia a shamefaced grin. ‘Oh all right, I know what I sound like. But jogging? You?’

  Julia gave an enigmatic smile and sipped her tea.

  ‘Bully! Why shouldn’t I take up jogging, you think I’m slim enough already?’

  Finn surveyed her sister’s ample curves and conceded defeat. ‘I had a visitor while you were out,’ she volunteered. ‘Two visitors, in fact.’

  She gave Julia a description of her early morning social activities and asked about Rosemary Clavering.

  ‘She’s a sweetie,’ Julia said warmly. ‘She moved here a week or two after I did and we’ve become really good friends. She taught art in a big school in the Midlands and bought the bungalow by the church when she retired. She had great plans for setting up as a freelance artist and making a bit on top of her pension, but she’s not got it off the ground yet.’

  ‘Why not, if she’s had six months?’ Finn was intrigued; Rosemary Clavering hadn’t struck her as idle or indecisive.

  ‘That bloody mother of hers, of course,’ Julia said bitterly. ‘No, that’s hardly fair, Margot can’t help how she is. It’s the early stages of dementia, of course, though there’s been no official diagnosis yet. She and Rosemary’s father retired to Spain years ago and she remarried out there a year or so after he died, around five years ago I think. About twelve months ago Margot’s second husband died but she stayed where she was. She seemed settled, apparently, and Rosemary used to go out occasionally to see her.’

  Julia shrugged and fumbled in her bag for a cigarette. ‘Oh feck, I forgot I’d given up – again, this damned health kick! Anyway, about a month or two after Rosemary moved here Margot turned up on her doorstep in a terrible state. The second husband had put all his financial affairs in the hands of some so-called broker who operated on the Costa Whatsit and he – surprise surprise – turned out to be a crook. He sold the villa out from under her, cashed in all the securities and bunked off somewhere with no extradition treaty.’

  ‘Didn’t Rosemary check him out?’ asked Finn aghast.

  ‘Didn’t get a chance,’ was the reply. ‘Neither of them mentioned it to her. The stepfather apparently presented Margot with a fait accompli and as both her husbands had always dealt with the money side and she was the Little Woman, she didn’t query his judgement. Well, what could Rosemary do? I gather Margot’s eligible for some kind of pension, but not much. The husband had opted out of all sorts of schemes so now Rosemary’s left holding the baby.’

  She patted Finn’s cheek affectionately. ‘It’s not just the money, though that’s a major nuisance of course; the main thing is the constant vigilance and to make matters even more bleak Margot’s changed from being rather mousey and prim into a man-eating exhibitionist so Rosemary’s always having to haul her off some poor man or other. Rosemary says they were never close anyway and when Margot remarried things got worse, or at least more distant. She was happier when they were miles apart – bit like you and me!’

  ‘Poor Rosemary.’ Finn ignored the provocation. ‘And poor Margot, too, being conned like that.’ She wrinkled her brow as a memory chimed. ‘Changing the subject, do I gather you’ve got a new boyfriend, Julia? That’s usually the reason for your sporadic health fits.’

  ‘Sure, but I’d hardly call him a boyfriend, Finn,’ remonstrated Julia. ‘He’s just turned seventy.’ She laughed at Finn’s expression, and went on. ‘He’s charming, all he wants is to go out somewhere nice for dinner once a week, an occasional dance, the odd drive out and about to a stately home or something and for somebody to listen to him. He’s a tad eccentric but very good company; been a widower for a couple of years and no nonsense about wanting another wife. He only moved here a few months back. Thought he’d better not live completely alone after he had a fall and broke his hip, I believe. He’s staying with his son over the other side of the village at the moment but they’re in the throes of sorting out accommodation for him. Also in Bychurch, as it happens; the old Parsonage here has been turned into rather charming flats.’

  She looked at Finn under her lashes. ‘I know you’ve never really approved of all my men friends, but what do you expect me to do? Sit at home and knit? I’d wait a long time if I waited for you to keep me company, wouldn’t I!’

  Finn gave her a guilty grin.

  ‘Oh I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I’m here now, aren’t I? And when did I ever say anything about it? Besides, I haven’t hated all your boyfriends, be fair, and they didn’t all end in disaster, did they? I liked that one when I was eighteen, with the shop in Southampton, and the one with the dark glasses.’

  ‘Yes.’ Julia’s tone was dry. ‘Ron Davis had a sweetshop, didn’t he? And let you – allegedly an adult! – run loose in there every Saturday afternoon until he and I broke up. And as for Giannini, you only liked him because you thought he was a Mafia don.’

  ‘Uh huh,’ agreed Finn reminiscently. ‘He was scary, and that boy who came to visit next door made me watch the video of The Godfather so we were convinced Giannini was going to start leaving horses’ heads in the beds.’

  ‘Nonsense, he was a perfect darling and he was a partner in the Italian restaurant in town. We ate out a lot that summer I remember.’

  ‘Didn’t you ever think about getting married again, Julia, instead of, you know …?’ Finn asked tentatively. They were on good terms but some thing
s you just don’t ask.

  ‘Not really. After Colin walked out I was too down, then Mum died and Dad gave up on life and I was landed with a miserable, stroppy fifteen-year-old sister on my hands. Not … ’ she threw a laughing look at Finn, ‘… Not that I ever regretted that for a moment; having you to look after saved my sanity. I just went on working and having my morale-boosting flings now and then. Dumping Colin’s name and going back to Fitzgerald helped; I never did cotton to Watson.’

  Julia opened the kitchen window and leaned out, breathing in extravagant gusts of wood smoke-scented air.

  ‘Mmm, somebody’s got a bonfire somewhere. As for my men friends, well … I don’t expect you to believe me but I didn’t actually sleep with all of them, specially nowadays – particularly nowadays – some of them just want company, like I said, someone to go out and about with, a dinner date, somebody next to them at the theatre. There’s a surprising number of men around who aren’t that bothered about sex, you know, once they get older. And when I was younger, well, it sometimes worked in our favour, didn’t it? Remember when I took you home to Ireland, to look after that castle for the whole of one summer? I don’t think the fellow’s wife ever realised I wasn’t just a housekeeper – and you’d a wonderful holiday after all.’

  She turned to look at her sister, a long, appraising stare, noting a little puffiness round the eyes but no other sign of misery – hurt pride that was the problem rather than a hurt heart.

  ‘Feeling better?’ she asked gently. ‘Want to talk about it?’

  ‘Not really,’ Finn shook her head. ‘But thanks anyway, Julia. I’ve had it with Brussels. I’ve been getting restless for a year or two. The most important thing to do is start looking for a job, then I need to find somewhere to live. If you really don’t mind me crashing for a few days it’ll be a great help. I’ll get out of your hair as soon as possible.

  She looked up as Julia didn’t answer at once and saw a speculative look in her sister’s eyes.

  ‘Um, well, I was wondering about that, Finn.’ Julia seemed uncharacteristically diffident. ‘I thought we might give it a go if you’d like.’ She held her hand up as Finn opened her mouth. ‘Hang on, let me finish. I know what you’re going to say, that we couldn’t possibly live together and you’re probably quite right – two women in a kitchen and all that and this is a small house. But when you rang from Heathrow yesterday I sat down and thought hard about it. We could turn the house into two unofficial flats, if you liked, you upstairs, me down.’

  Finn shook her head.

  ‘That’s sweet of you,’ she said definitely. ‘But I’m not dumping myself on you permanently. Grabbing a bed for a few nights is one thing, but why on earth should you turn your life upside down just because I’ve messed up?’

  ‘I’m your big sister,’ Julia grinned. ‘That’s what we’re for. Are you sure you … What is it?’ Finn was staring at her with a very thoughtful expression on her face.

  ‘On the other hand,’ she said slowly. ‘You do have that old brick store-room built on to the back of the garage. Do you use it? Could it be turned into a tiny flat, do you think? Or is it completely uninhabitable?’

  ‘But that’s brilliant,’ Julia exclaimed. ‘Of course it could. Think about it.’ She warmed to her theme, ever the optimist. ‘There’s electricity in there already, and water laid on. Come to think of it you might as well have the garage too; I’m sure something could be done.’

  Finn was looking doubtful again as she leaned forward to make her point. ‘I want to make a completely new start,’ she said resolutely. ‘I’ve been a wimp for years and it’s time I got off my backside and did something about it, took control of my life. It would certainly save me a lot of bother if we could convert the garage, but it just strikes me as wimpy old Finn letting somebody else take the strain – as usual!’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ Julia laughed at her, nodding as the tension began to seep away from Finn’s face. ‘You’re allowed to accept some help, surely? And to be honest, it would be a lot more satisfactory from my point of view. You’re right, I’m happily settled and this is a small house, but the garage … When have you ever known me put my car away? Besides, I couldn’t if I had wanted to, the doors have been blocked off from the inside. Also, don’t forget, there’s another shed in the garden, plenty of room for lawnmowers and things. Think it over, there’s no panic. Look on this as a short holiday. Now, why don’t we go and check it out? I really think it might work, you know. The door opens into the hall, so we’d share the front door, but that’s all. For the rest, we could be quite self-contained.’

  ****

  ‘That’s right,’ Finn told the middle-aged woman interviewing her that afternoon. ‘It’s spelled Fionnuala, pronounced Finola – my parents were Irish. I’m quite happy to do anything for a while – secretarial, work in a shop, whatever. I know I can’t expect anything like what I’ve been earning. I’ve come back to England because my elder sister needs me nearer at hand. She’s not an invalid,’ she added hastily, seeing the woman’s frown. ‘It wouldn’t make any difference to my work, but she … she’s suffered a bereavement recently, so that’s why …’

  She tailed off as the woman nodded sympathetically. Well, it’s true enough, she thought guiltily. Julia’s ancient Labrador had died only last year and Julia had been devastated, only the bustle and interest of moving house had kept her going.

  By the time she got to the interview with the third agency Finn had her story off pat and almost believed it herself, though the image of a frail and elderly Julia pulled her up short, compared to the vibrant reality of her sister.

  It was gone half past five when she made her weary way back towards Julia’s car, parked in Bridge Street. Mulling over the interviews with their constant result of frowns, pursed lips and shaken heads – can’t promise anything, dear, not this time of year, certainly not what you’re used to, the power station’s just laid off people – Finn started to feel depressed. Hang on a minute, she exhorted herself. Get a grip, you didn’t burn your boats so comprehensively just to slip back into your wimpy ways. Don’t be so pathetic, try and act your age for once.

  She straightened her shoulders and grinned, suddenly in Scarlett O’Hara mood. ‘After all,’ she proclaimed aloud, to the surprise of a passing pedestrian. ‘Tomorrow is another day!’

  Chapter 2

  After an early night Finn and Julia took stock, more comprehensively, of the garage and brick-built store attached at the side of the house.

  ‘I really think this could work, you know,’ Julia waved an expansive hand around. ‘The old store-room could be divided in two, a shower and a kitchen – it’s close to the main plumbing in the house.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Finn thoughtfully. ‘I’m not sure I ever took a proper look in here when you moved. Why on earth do you suppose the previous owners built a brick wall inside the front doors like that?’

  Julia skirted a pile of crates and inspected the wall in question.

  ‘They must have planned to convert it into a room themselves,’ she shrugged. ‘It’s poky by modern garage standards. It wouldn’t take much to finish it – plasterboard, that sort of thing, turn it into a sort of studio room. What do you reckon?’

  ‘I think it’ll do just fine.’ Finn hugged her gratefully. ‘Even though I still think I’m copping out, it’s going to save me so much hassle. But I think we should live completely separately,’ she warned. ‘And you must charge me a proper rent. I’m rolling at the moment, don’t forget, so what shall we do about finishing this conversion?’

  ‘Let’s shift these boxes up to the attic for a start.’ Julia was already humping one towards the door. After a couple of hours the garage was clear so Finn made them coffee and a sandwich.

  ‘I’d better get on with the job-hunting,’ she decided when they finished eating. ‘Is it okay for me to borrow your car again? That’s something else I need to check out; I’ll have a look in town this afternoon.’

  ‘Good
idea,’ agreed her sister. ‘In the meantime I’ll see if I can rustle up a work force and get some estimates for this conversion job.’

  The previous day’s trip had concentrated on the employment agencies, the only things on offer being low-paid clerical jobs. There was no joy in the jobs section of the local Gazette, so this afternoon Finn wandered round town looking at the shops, hoping to spot Help Wanted signs. Nothing offered but she enjoyed the window-shopping anyway. Round behind the town hall she discovered a new shop in Paradise Row.

  ‘The Starlight Strand?’ She stared at the window display, intrigued. ‘Wow, this is a bit advanced for Ramalley, isn’t it? Crystals and tarot cards and things?’

  After a moment’s hesitation she pushed open the door, to the sound of wind chimes as the door brushed against them. ‘I’m just looking, thank you,’ she nodded to the assistant behind the counter, a woolly-hatted thirtyish man with a pasty, porridgey-looking face, who opened sleepy eyes when she entered.

  Finn toured round the bookshelves and display cabinets. Maybe I ought to buy some cards and find out what my future’s going to be, she thought. A little shame-faced, she was pocketing her change when the wind chimes tinkled and an elderly man entered the shop.

  He smiled at the assistant and Finn and raised his hat to them politely, then went to look at the displays for a moment, fidgeting a bit.

  ‘Excuse me.’ He turned to Porridge-Face as Finn picked up the carrier containing her tarot pack. ‘I believe you sometimes have a clairvoyant here? Might I enquire when she’s in attendance?’

  ‘Thaat’s a pity,’ replied the shopkeeper, his voice with its long Hampshire vowels slowed down to a crawl contrasting with his shining, eager-to-please manner. ‘She’s not in this week, she’s on holiday, but I could give you a phone, she’s usually here on Tues … Oh my … whassa marrer?’

  He broke off as the older man gave a sudden groan and swayed, his long, elegant hand clutching at the wooden counter top. At the door, Finn heard the commotion and looked back at them.