Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange

by Jenny Kane

  Hovering in the corridor, unsure whether to move forward or leave Mabel in peace, Helen was relieved when Tina arrived at her side.

  ‘You okay?’

  Helen whispered, ‘I think Mabel’s crying.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Listen.’ As the sound of someone trying not to make a noise crying reached their ears, Helen mouthed, ‘She’s such a proud woman, I didn’t know if my going in would be welcome, or if I’d embarrass her.’

  Tina didn’t hesitate. ‘You put the kettle on and then phone Bert. He should be here if his wife’s upset. I’ll talk to Mabel.’

  Wiping her hands down her side, Tina sat next to Mabel at the kitchen table. Easing the pen and shopping list pad out of the old lady’s hand, she reached for the tissue box Helen had pushed in her direction when en route to the kettle.

  ‘Mabel? Whatever is it? Do you feel unwell?’

  Tina realised with a shock that, without her usual indomitable spirit, Mabel actually looked like what she was – a woman in her late seventies. She and her husband, Bert, always had so much energy; so much drive, that they always came across as being at least a decade younger than they were. Seeing Mill Grange’s catering guru so distraught was both frightening and moving.

  ‘It’s Bert.’

  ‘Bert?’ Tina looked across to Helen, who immediately stopped her passage towards the manor’s phone. ‘What about Bert, Mabel?’

  ‘All our lives we’ve been together. I can’t remember a time without him.’

  A sickening feeling grew in Tina’s stomach as she took Mabel’s hand. ‘Is Bert poorly?’

  ‘He says he’s fine, but I know he’s pretending. He’s so damn stubborn. Won’t even let me call the doctor.’

  Not commenting on the irony of Mabel calling her placid husband stubborn, when she was the mistress of the art, Tina asked, ‘Is he at home in bed?’

  ‘Says it’s just a touch of the cold, but he’s eighty-two, Tina and…’ Disappearing into a handful of tissues, Mabel gave her nose a blow. The act seemed to steady her, and Tina could feel her friend give herself a metaphorical shake. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t burden you; especially not on a new guest day. Bert’s probably right, it’s just a cold.’

  ‘Cold or not, I think he should see a doctor. How about I get Sam to talk to Bert?’

  Mabel sniffed as she picked the pen and pad back up. ‘I didn’t like to ask Sam. I know Bert would like to see him, but, well…’

  Tina immediately understood Mabel’s reluctance. ‘Bert’s inside, in bed, and Sam still struggles to go indoors.’

  ‘Exactly. I didn’t want to put Sam in an awkward position.’

  ‘Why don’t we let Sam decide what he wants to do about that? Bert has done so much for him. If it wasn’t for Bert, Sam would still be sleeping in his tent every night, rather than the downstairs bedroom. Well, when we don’t have a guest in it.’

  Mabel nodded as she wrote, ‘order potatoes’, on her pad. ‘Has Sam got upstairs yet?’

  ‘Halfway up the main staircase, but no further. The corridors upstairs are so narrow. Their enclosed nature is still a problem.’

  ‘But he’s getting there, and that’s what counts.’ Mabel’s eyes flashed with pride, but whether that pride was for Sam or for Bert for helping him, Tina wasn’t sure. Nor did she care. What mattered was getting a doctor to Bert as soon as possible. If Mabel was upset enough to show she was concerned, then something was terribly wrong.

  ‘Here you go, Mabel.’ Helen passed her a cup of tea. ‘Why don’t I go and get Tom and Sam?’

  ‘Good idea.’ Tina smiled. ‘Thanks to Bert, Sam can join us at the kitchen table these days if we leave the backdoor open. We can have our meeting here rather than the garden.’

  Mabel looked scandalised. ‘Don’t rearrange your day for me. You have to—’

  ‘We have to make sure that all our valued members of staff are cared for.’

  Mabel’s wrinkled hands shook slightly as she asked, ‘Have Thea and Shaun gone?’

  Suddenly as concerned for Mabel as she was for Bert, Tina said, ‘About ten minutes ago. I thought they’d come in to say goodbye?’

  ‘Oh yes, so they did.’

  Swapping concerned glances with Helen as she left for the garden, Tina turned back to Mabel. ‘Why don’t you head home? I’ll do the food today.’

  Mabel stared at the pen in her hands. ‘I’m better busy.’

  ‘Okay. Then, let’s get this week’s meal list written.’ Hoping she sounded stronger than she felt, Tina picked up the top piece of paper from an open box file on the table. ‘Here’s the dietary requirement list for this week’s residents. We just have one vegetarian this time; and five guests over all. No allergies or intolerances.’

  ‘That’s nice and straightforward.’ Mabel brushed invisible crumbs off her apron. ‘I’m getting used to vegan meal and gluten free thinking, but I confess, it doesn’t come easy at my time of life.’

  Resisting the urge to hug the old lady, Tina said, ‘I think you’re a marvel.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Mabel stared blankly at the sheet of paper. ‘So, I’ll cook the meal tonight, and then provide lunches and the evening meal ingredients for the rest of the week as usual?’

  ‘Yes. Apart from the bit where you cook tonight’s welcome meal. Helen and I will do that. We aren’t as good at it as you, but luckily the newcomers don’t know how good a cook you are yet, so we won’t have your high standards to live up to.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Mabel. You have looked after the food here since before we opened in October. You have been my right hand since I started here, long before Thea arrived to help restore Mill Grange. It’s our turn to care for you. Please let us.’

  *

  Sam hadn’t hung around for his tea. Having checked Mabel was being looked after by his friends, and that all preparations for the guest bedrooms and activities had been done, he ran the length of road from Mill Grange to Upwich village.

  It was only now he stood on the drive of Mabel and Bert’s home, Mabel’s set of keys in his hand, that he faced the fact that he would have to go inside to see his friend.

  The flashbacks to his time in the army didn’t come as often as they used to. But they still came. ‘But not now. Not when Bert needs me, rather than the other way around.’

  Sam spoke sternly to himself as he slid the key in the door, closing his mind to his memories of being cornered in a burning building – of being unable to save the people inside – of helplessness and… No. Not now!

  Breathing slowly in the manner Bert had taught him, Sam muttered to himself as he pushed the door open.

  ‘I’ve been in Bert’s kitchen before. It’s safe.’ Keeping up his personal commentary, Sam ignored the perspiration that dotted his forehead. ‘Bert might want tea.’

  Telling himself he wasn’t prevaricating, but was providing his friend with a drink, Sam went through the motions of beverage making, replaying Mabel’s instructions on how to find Bert.

  ‘Second room on the left.’

  Armed with the mug of tea and his mobile phone, already programmed with Bert’s doctor’s number, Sam took a deep breath and headed into the hallway.

  The old man hadn’t seemed that surprised to see Sam, but as he’d gone to speak a coughing fit had overtaken him. By the time it was past, there was a sheen of sweat on Bert’s forehead and he was gasping for breath.

  Heading to the bathroom to find a wet flannel to soothe Bert’s brow, Sam forgot to be afraid of the roof falling on his head, and paused to phone the doctor. After a frustrating wait through a pointless answer phone message, telling the caller to only ring if they really needed an appointment, he eventually reached a human being. Having stressed that he was worried enough to have considered calling an ambulance, the receptionist promised an on-call doctor would be there before three o’clock that afternoon.

  Texting Tina to tell her a doctor was due, Sam went back to the bedroom. His eyes landed on the breakfast
Mabel had left for Bert. It was untouched.

  ‘Right then, Bert, what’s been going on here?’

  ‘Just a cold. Been off for a few days. Tired today.’

  ‘Then you are wise to have stayed in bed. I’ve called the doctor.’

  Bert shook his head, ‘No need, my boy, no—’ Another coughing fit took over his protests as, wrestling a handful of tissues from the box by the bed, Bert spat out a mouthful of mucus.

  ‘Okay mate, okay.’ Sam wiped his forehead. ‘You know this isn’t a cold, come on, what aches and what doesn’t?’

  Resting his head back against his pillows, Bert released a painful sigh. ‘Everything hurts, Sam. Everything.’

  Three

  Monday March 16th

  ‘We have three hours before the guests arrive.’ Tina checked her wristwatch as Sam addressed his colleagues. ‘I know Mabel’s friend Diane is with her, but I’d like at least one of us to be there when the doctor sees Bert, so let’s crack on.’

  Tom raised the outdoor to-do list he held. ‘Beyond a little tool cleaning, Helen and I are as ready as we can be for the week ahead. Perhaps we could be of use in the house until then?’

  Helen agreed. ‘Absolutely. Why don’t you and Tina go and check on Mabel while we start prepping tonight’s dinner?’

  ‘Would you mind?’ Tina was itching to go and check on Bert.

  ‘Of course we wouldn’t.’ Helen turned to Tom. ‘I know the week’s groceries were ordered on Friday. They’re due between twelve and two. If you don’t mind listening out for the van, I’ll double check the bathrooms have loo roll and clean towels, then we can start on whatever Mabel has decided is for dinner tonight.’

  As Tom readily agreed, Sam got to his feet. ‘I’ll go and check on Mabel and Bert. Diane is a good friend to them, and very capable – she was one of the original team here when Mill Grange was under restoration so we got to know her quite well. If she’s happy keeping Mabel’s spirits up, then maybe, if you come up later, Tina, we can take it in turns to sit with Bert. Although we’ll need to be back to greet the new guests at four.’

  Tina gave a weak grin. ‘If we didn’t, Bert would give us a hard time for putting him before the business.’

  ‘Aint’ that the truth!’

  *

  Tom’s insides clenched as he stepped out of Mill Grange’s backdoor and saw his ex- girlfriend’s Mini pull up outside of the old butler’s quarters.

  ‘Sue?’

  Having expected the vehicle he’d heard, crawling up the drive, to be the supermarket delivery van, Tom experienced a sense of foreboding. Sue turning up unannounced anywhere was never good news. Unannounced on a week day, at a time when she was normally at work, was even worse.

  ‘You’ve landed on your feet here, haven’t you?’ Sue slid out of the car and eyed the side of the manor house.

  Biting the inside of his cheek to prevent himself saying something he’d regret, Tom peered over Sue’s head, hoping the groceries would arrive, and therefore legitimately take him away from her. ‘Why are you here? Is Dylan alright?’

  ‘He’s at school.’

  ‘I didn’t ask that, I asked if my son was alright.’

  ‘Don’t snap!’ Sue tucked a strand of bright pink hair behind her ear. ‘Dylan is fine.’

  Exhaling with a rush of air, Tom dug his hands deep into his trouser pockets. ‘I’m at work, Sue, what do you want?’

  She gave him a dazzling smile that immediately put Tom even more on his guard. ‘I thought you worked outside?’

  ‘Your point is?’

  ‘You were inside. I saw you come out of the backdoor.’

  ‘I was doing some paperwork while waiting for a grocery delivery for our caterer, if you must know.’

  Sue sneered. ‘Hardly the hot shot archaeology tutor now then.’

  ‘Oh for goodness sake, Sue. Just tell me what you want and go home.’ He checked his watch. ‘You’ll need to get back to collect Dylan from school at three.’

  ‘Three-fifteen, actually.’

  ‘Sue!’

  ‘Yeah, okay.’ She shuffled her trainers on the gravel. ‘I wanted to talk to you about Dylan.’ She raised her hand fast to calm his repeated enquiry as to their son’s welfare. ‘He is fine, I promise. Whatever our differences, I’ve never for a moment doubted that you love our boy.’

  Taken aback, Tom said, ‘Right, well yes. Good. So, what about Dylan?’

  ‘He’s growing up fast. Every day he gets more inquisitive, brighter. He’s a clever boy.’

  Pride lit Tom’s eyes. ‘He is. We were talking about dinosaurs again on Sunday. I’m not sure there’s anything he doesn’t know about them.’

  ‘Well that’s just it you see.’

  ‘Dinosaurs?’

  ‘No! School. Look.’ Sue opened the bag she’d slung over her shoulder and extracted a letter.

  Reading it, Tom’s face shone with pride. ‘Accelerated reader’s scheme? That’s fantastic.’

  ‘Honestly Tom, I had a little cry when Dylan wasn’t looking. The thing is…’

  Reeling from the fact his ex was admitting to having an emotional response to something, Tom pushed, ‘What’s the thing, Sue?’

  ‘There’s going to be a parent’s evening at his school soon. Then there’ll be loads of other things. Events that we haven’t had to deal with before. School concerts, nativity plays, parent assemblies and all that.’ Continuing to stare at her feet, rather than at him, Sue scuffed a line in the gravel with the toe of her trainer. ‘I don’t think you should miss out on those things just because we aren’t together.’

  ‘Really? You mean it?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sue checked her watch. ‘Like you said, I can’t hang about now, but I want to talk to you without Dylan being around. Do you think we could do a proper meeting? We’ve never talked about access and stuff.’

  ‘I wanted to, but you—’

  ‘I know.’ Sue rolled her brightly painted fingernails into fists and pushed them into her jacket pockets. ‘But if Dylan is going to have a better life than we’ve got, we need to start putting him first.’ Catching one look at Tom’s expression, she hastily added, ‘I need to start putting him first.’

  Knowing how much it would have cost her to admit that she might not always have done so, Tom relented. ‘He’s at a decent school, he’s settled in and doing well. You’ve got a nice home for him. Rents a bit steep but—’

  ‘Yeah, sorry about that.’

  ‘I don’t mind as long as Dylan is happy. But I would like to see him more often, and I’d definitely appreciate you adding my number to the school contact list.’

  ‘So, can we meet for a drink and a decision-making session soon?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Tom was about to ask about suitable times when the supermarket van lumbered into sight. ‘I’m sorry, Sue, it’s a bit all hands to the pump today. Our caterer’s husband is sick and—’

  But Sue had stopped listening. ‘I must go. If I get stuck behind a tractor between Upwich and Tiverton, it could take an hour to get back. I’ll text you.’

  By the time the van driver had parked, Sue’s Mini was hurtling away, leaving Tom torn between elation at the prospect of seeing his son more often, and suspicion that his ex was up to something.

  *

  Only a few months ago, Tina had experienced a hit of anxiety every time a new group of retreat guests arrived on a Monday afternoon. Today, as the five newcomers happily explored Mill Grange after listening to Sam’s introductory talk, Tina realised that, although she’d been nervous, she wasn’t her usual ball of tension.

  ‘Maybe it’s because I’m worrying about Bert instead.’ She passed Helen the tray of dirty cups and saucers to place in the dishwasher.

  ‘Or, perhaps you’re getting used to it.’ Helen poked a fork into the lasagne bubbling inside the Aga to check the pasta was softening as per Mabel’s very specific instructions.

  ‘Possibly.’ Tina checked her watch. ‘Mabel hasn’t called. Surel
y the doctor would have finished by now? It’s gone five.’

  ‘If there’s been an emergency at the surgery, then the doctor could have been delayed.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Tina didn’t look convinced.

  ‘Why don’t you head over there? I can hold the fort. There’s still two hours until dinner.’ Helen turned the heat of the Aga right down. ‘I’ve only got this cooking early as Mabel said it tastes better if it’s cooked and then reheated before serving.’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Tina tugged at her pigtails. ‘The first few hours with new guests can either be smooth, or full of trouble shooting. I don’t see why you should have to do that.’

  Helen smiled. ‘I’m happy to, don’t worry.’

  ‘If only Thea was here as well! Talk about bad timing to be a set of hands down.’

  *

  Sam pressed the ‘end call’ function on his mobile’s screen and looked up at Tina, who was sat close enough to him to have partially heard what had been said down the other end of the line, but she still sensed she only had half the story.

  ‘So?’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s as I feared.’

  Tina frowned. ‘What was it you feared?’

  ‘Bert has pneumonia.’

  Sucking in a sharp intake of breath, Tina forced herself not to panic. ‘That’s potentially serious when you’re Bert’s age. You thought that’s what he had?’

  ‘I didn’t say anything because I wanted to be wrong.’

  ‘Is he in hospital?’

  ‘No. His GP thinks they’ve caught it early enough for him to stay put. He has given Bert antibiotics and Mabel strict instructions to keep a close eye on him. The doctor’s visiting again tomorrow.’

  Tina exhaled slowly. ‘That means it’s not as serious as it might have been then, if he isn’t in hospital.’

  ‘It will depend if the antibiotics help. If they don’t make a difference within three days, or if his temperature spikes further, or he gets diarrhoea or chest pain as he coughs, he’ll have to be admitted.’ Sam sighed. ‘Plus, there’s less chance of Bert being infected with other things if he stays at home.’