In Search of Love, Money & Revenge

by Hilary Bailey

  ‘I was the youngest,’ Claudia burst out.

  ‘Yes. So. Lucky for you. Well, Jasmine, you’ll have to do your bit now, I suppose.’

  Jasmine couldn’t answer. She went off to find Nigel who was standing alone in front of the house. ‘I suppose Mother will be planning to move now,’ he said.

  ‘I can’t see why she has to.’

  ‘It is usual,’ Nigel told her.

  ‘Nigel,’ she protested. ‘I don’t want to take over. You know that. It’s not as if I’ve been waiting all these years to get my hands on the key to the still room.’

  ‘I imagine she’ll want to go,’ Nigel said shortly. ‘Are we almost ready to leave?’

  ‘So soon? It looks bad. Anyway, let’s leave Mary to rest a little longer. Margaret just went up.’

  Jasmine went through the front door and found Claudia putting on her cardigan. ‘It’s freezing in this house,’ said Claudia. ‘It always has been. I can remember staying here as a child. Nanny always used to pack a whole suitcase of extra woollies for everybody. Christ, I wish I knew what had happened to Sim. Haven’t they any idea?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Jasmine said.

  ‘I’d kill him if he turned up,’ Claudia said vehemently. ‘And, Jasmine, what happened to Dad? There’s something they’re not talking about—’

  ‘Shh,’ Jasmine warned as Lady Mary and her sister came along the landing above.

  They went back to Hampshire in two cars, Nigel, his mother and Lady Margaret in the bigger one, Jasmine, Claudia and Al Dominick in the other.

  ‘You travel in style here,’ Al remarked, stretching out. ‘Two limos between six. That’s great.’

  ‘Not usually,’ said Jasmine.

  ‘What about Aunt Elizabeth – bitch of the year, isn’t she?’ remarked Claudia. ‘Thank God we got out.’

  ‘It looked very rude,’ Jasmine said.

  ‘She wasn’t too polite herself. Face like a fiddle the whole time, no attempt at hospitality. Can you imagine what a night in that place would be like? Who was staying?’

  ‘Only your step-grandmother, overnight. She’s getting a flight back to Geneva tomorrow.’

  ‘She and Elizabeth are well matched. They can have a good bitch together about everybody. And what the hell’s been going on here? Sim’s gone, nobody knows what’s happened to him, and, Jasmine, I’ve got to know – before we left New York Al heard an odd story from a man at CBS about Father being stabbed. Everybody seemed to be keeping quiet about it at the funeral, so I couldn’t say anything, but what’s been happening?’

  Jasmine looked helpless. ‘Come on,’ urged Claudia, lighting a cigarette.

  Al protested, ‘Claudia, you promised—’

  ‘Al – I’ve just been to a funeral. And this is England,’ Claudia told him. ‘Come on, Jasmine, don’t spare my feelings. I haven’t got any. I hated my father, quite frankly. He was a horrible man. That’s why Sim left. Bernard was a bastard. He constantly had other women and Mother tolerated it because that’s how she was trained. The only interest he had in any of us was because we were continuing the family name, and that left me out in the cold because I wasn’t going to continue it properly. Sim had brains – he saw it too clearly. He had to leave. No criticism of Nigel, of course, but Nigel’s different. If Sim’s dead, Bernard drove him to it, just by being Bernard, that’s how I see it. Sim’s worth twice my father, and God knows where he is, or if …’ She began to cry. Al put his arm round her. The car sped noiselessly on. ‘Just thank your stars,’ sniffed Claudia, ‘you were brought up at Froggett’s. Your parents might be a bit cracked, but your father’s not a raving megalomaniac like Bernard was.’

  ‘You don’t think your mother should move out if she doesn’t want to, do you?’ Jasmine asked.

  ‘What do you think?’ Claudia responded. ‘In Britain, Al, when her husband dies his widow is supposed to move out of the family home to make way for her daughter-in-law.’

  Al was astonished. ‘Jesus Christ. You mean, like an eviction? You Brits certainly know how women ought to be treated.’

  ‘You’ll have to stop her, Jasmine,’ Claudia declared. ‘Otherwise she’ll do it whether she wants to or not. You’d better get Nigel to speak to her.’

  Jasmine hoped she could. She feared there were signs of Nigel stepping into his father’s big boots, perhaps because he thought he ought to.

  As if guessing her thoughts Claudia said, ‘I hope Nigel doesn’t feel he’s got to play Hitler.’ She began to wail, ‘I wish Sim would come back.’

  ‘You in love with your brother, Claudia?’ Al asked. ‘I never guessed, but it looks like it.’

  ‘Everybody loved Sim,’ Claudia said. ‘You couldn’t help it.’

  Jasmine leaned back on the comfortable upholstery and closed her eyes. It had been a long day, and it wasn’t over yet. She’d missed a period and if she was pregnant she didn’t know if it was her husband’s child or Gerald Rafferty’s. She began to count back, for the umpteenth time.

  19

  Some Reconciliations

  Just after Jasmine left the restaurant in a temper, Vanessa’s mother and sister Cherry came in, with her seven-year-old twins, James and Mark, both in immaculate miniature Arsenal kits and baseball caps with their names on them. James carried the football, James had the rattle. Blond and square-faced, they were singing, ‘’Ere we go, ’ere we go, ’ere we go.’ The women were carrying plastic bags. ‘We went to the snack bar to find you, but it was full of women with banners,’ reported Vanessa’s mother. ‘Look what one of their kids did. Look at my tights. The mothers don’t seem to have any control these days.’

  James was trying to put a chair on a table.

  ‘Leave that alone, James,’ Vanessa said.

  ‘I’m Mark,’ he replied.

  ‘Well, Mark. You’ll scratch the table.’

  Cherry, tired, in a floral cotton suit, told him, ‘James. Pack it in.’

  ‘Little monsters,’ said Vanessa’s mother fondly. ‘Any chance of a cup of tea, Ness? Look what we got for Cherry for Sandra’s wedding.’ She pulled a dress from one of the plastic bags and held it up in the kitchen doorway. Looking over it she said to Annie, ‘Lovely, isn’t it? She’ll look so nice, with her hair. I think I saw your sister getting into a taxi in the High Street. Lovely girl, isn’t she? And the clothes – well, I suppose she has to, in her position. On second thoughts, cancel the tea. We’ll have something stronger. My feet are killing me.’

  ‘Can I have a Coke, Auntie? Can I?’ the twins were asking.

  ‘What are those women doing in your snack bar?’ complained Cherry.

  ‘It may be another demonstration at the Town Hall,’ replied Vanessa.

  ‘Tsk,’ said Cherry.

  The twins were drifting towards the door. ‘You’re not going out there to play,’ Cherry said in alarm. ‘In a market? There’s all sorts out there. I think you’re brave to work here,’ she told Vanessa.

  ‘We’ve got a minder,’ Vanessa said. ‘White wine?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Cherry patting her hips. ‘Don’t need any more on here. Ian’s starting to complain.’

  ‘Mum?’ enquired Vanessa.

  Anita looked round. ‘Well, in these surroundings,’ she said, ‘I think I’ll go for a Bloody Mary.’

  From the kitchen Annie, keeping out of the way, heard the chink of bottles.

  ‘All right,’ Cherry said impatiently to the boys, ‘go next door and ask Melanie if she’ll give you a Coke. No playing in the market, though. It’s going down,’ she told Vanessa. ‘It’s that recreation centre, attracts the wrong type. Well,’ she added, ‘you’ll see something new next September.’ From another bag she pulled out two school caps. ‘The twins are going to Valley Lodge. Ian said, it’s no good, they’re not staying at that local primary. It’s nothing but finger painting, sex education and Hindu Christmases, he said. Let’s get them somewhere where they give them the three Rs and a bit of manners.’

  ‘The language the
y’ve picked up in that playground,’ Anita added. ‘I wonder you don’t put Alec down for somewhere in good time. All these schools have got a waiting list.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Vanessa. ‘But it costs.’

  ‘This place must be making a mint,’ said Anita.

  ‘Not so’s you’d notice,’ Vanessa told her.

  A big black woman led one of the twins into the Arcadia. The other followed. ‘I told him off for fingering the fruit on my stall and he kicked me,’ she reported, looking round. ‘Who’s this boy’s mother?’

  ‘You let go of my son,’ Cherry said loudly.

  ‘Gladly,’ the woman said. ‘But will you tell him in future to keep his hands off my stall?’

  ‘Well, I’ve only got your side, haven’t I?’ said Cherry.

  ‘I don’t want an argument. I’ve got to get back,’ and the woman marched out.

  ‘I told you to keep out of the street,’ Cherry said when she’d gone. ‘Why don’t you two ever do what you’re told?’

  ‘Angels with dirty faces,’ Anita added, tousling the hair of one of them.

  ‘Not so much of the dirty, Mum,’ Cherry said. ‘Oh, well, better be off, I suppose, get the monsters’ teas. Then there’s Ian – I never thought I’d end up waiting hand and foot on three men.’

  Anita spotted Annie in the kitchen. ‘Why don’t you come out of there, Cinderella?’ she called in a forgiving mood.

  ‘We have to open at six and there’s a lot to do,’ Annie called back.

  ‘It’s hard for women on their own,’ Cherry declared. ‘Anyone in your life at present, Annie?’ she said in the direction of the kitchen.

  ‘No,’ called Annie. ‘Not really.’

  ‘Dear, dear,’ Cherry deplored.

  It was at that moment that Ben Gathercole came through the door. He looked extremely pale, very nervous and carried a bunch of red roses. Annie came from the kitchen, looked at Vanessa and thought she might faint. Anita and Cherry stiffened with interest. Anita stuffed her feet into her discarded shoes.

  ‘Hallo, stranger,’ Cherry said. Ben looked at her blankly. ‘Cherry. Vanessa’s sister. Don’t you remember – Portugal.’

  There was the sound of a dispute outside the restaurant. James and Mark came in protesting. ‘He knocked over a chair and that girl Melanie said we had to go out.’

  ‘Sauce,’ said Anita. ‘Who does she think she is, giving orders?’

  ‘You two are pests,’ Cherry said mechanically, still scrutinising Ben.

  Annie was the first to pull herself together. ‘Hallo, Ben. Would you like a cup of tea?’

  Ben said, ‘I’m on my way to the Town Hall. I just brought these round. Here you are, Vanessa.’ Thrusting the roses into her hands, he turned and left.

  Edward came in and said, ‘Anythink you want doing, Annie?’ He glanced at the group, Vanessa, holding the flowers, Cherry and Anita.

  ‘You could dust the lights,’ Annie said absently.

  One of the twins had locked the other out of the restaurant. The shut-out boy began to hammer on the door. ‘Let me in, dimbo.’

  ‘He’ll break that glass,’ Anita said.

  But Cherry was on her feet, ‘I’ve had enough,’ she declared. She seized the inside twin fiercely by the shoulder of his Arsenal top, opened the door and walloped the outside twin. ‘You two stand there, don’t move, we’re leaving.’ She raced back, collected her bags and said, ‘Mum, I’ve got to get them home.’

  ‘They want locking up, that pair,’ observed Anita, picking up her bags and standing up. ‘Lovely flowers,’ she observed to the stunned Vanessa. ‘Maybe there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. What does she look like, this wife?’

  ‘Mum!’ called Cherry urgently from the door.

  ‘School teacher, isn’t she?’ Anita said. ‘Come on, Mark, behave yourself. Say goodbye nicely to your auntie.’

  After they’d gone Vanessa fell into a chair, still clutching the roses, saying weakly, ‘What does he mean by this?’

  Annie couldn’t help laughing. She slopped Edward’s tea in the saucer.

  ‘What does he mean?’ Vanessa was saying. ‘Is he trying to come back? I won’t have him. He can’t have two women. Annie,’ she appealed, ‘he can’t have two women.’

  Edward drank his tea and went off for the ladder.

  ‘Sit there quietly for a moment,’ Annie advised. She went back into the kitchen and started peeling a mound of prawns from the refrigerator. ‘He doesn’t want two women,’ she called out. ‘Only one – you.’

  Vanessa got up mechanically. ‘I told Melanie I’d take over in the snack bar. She’s going to get Alec and Joanne from the play centre.’ She went off like a zombie.

  Edward moved the stepladder to allow her to pass, studying her face. ‘She all right?’ he asked Annie through the kitchen doorway.

  ‘It’s love,’ Annie told him.

  Andy Campbell came in unexpectedly, looking as menacing as usual. He stopped dead, demanding of Annie, ‘Why is my man up there, dusting lights?’

  ‘Because it’s boring, man, hanging round here all day,’ said Edward boldly. ‘You try, you do it, too.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Andy Campbell commented.

  ‘He might as well be dusting as terrorising,’ Annie said, wiping her hands and going to the till. ‘You’re early this week.’

  ‘You should try to be a little polite,’ said Andy Campbell.

  ‘It doesn’t matter, because we’ll soon be out of business,’ Annie retorted. Sam Abbott hadn’t rung to see if the Arcadia was for sale. She was wondering if he’d withdrawn his offer. She handed over the envelope containing £300.

  ‘You could be a nice-looking woman if you did something about yourself and spoke more nicely to people,’ Campbell said, eyeing her proprietorially. With this he took the envelope and went out.

  ‘Right,’ Edward agreed.

  ‘I suppose then he’d offer to put me on the streets and take a percentage of that,’ Annie said bitterly.

  ‘No trouble, Annie,’ warned Edward.

  Annie sighed and went back into the kitchen as unhappy as she always was when Campbell came round to collect his fee. The phone rang. She picked it up. ‘The Arcadia restaurant,’ she said. She heard someone breathing, then, ‘Annie? It’s Tom. Please speak to me. I want to meet you. Will you?’ When there was no answer, Tom went on, ‘Please, Annie, I miss you. At least we could be friends – and I want to explain—’

  ‘It’s because you didn’t explain years ago, Tom, that this happened,’ Annie told him. ‘I don’t want to see you.’

  ‘You were so young. How could I tell you—’

  ‘You didn’t tell me then. You didn’t tell me a fortnight ago. None of it matters now, Tom. Just go away and leave me alone—’

  ‘I’m coming over.’

  ‘Please don’t. Where are you?’

  ‘Rutherford Street. Melanie let me in.’ He put the phone down.

  ‘Somebody bothering you?’ enquired Edward. ‘Do you want me to deal with him?’

  ‘No,’ said Annie despondently, slamming the peeled prawns into the refrigerator. She phoned Rutherford Street. Melanie answered. ‘Tell him I can’t stop to talk to him,’ said Annie. ‘Tell him not to come here.’

  The Arcadia was so busy that night that there was even a queue outside the door. They ran out of duck. Edward had to deal with a fight on the pavement, and eject a drunken client whose partner had left him after the first course. Exhausted, Annie and Vanessa tottered home through the dark hot streets. Edward sympathetically went with them because they were too tired to avoid any trouble they might meet. Then he went to a party. Vanessa paid her babysitter, washed up a sinkful of dishes and went to bed.

  Melanie and her boyfriend were still up when Annie came in, her back and legs aching painfully, her face stiff with smiling. Annie was not pleased to see Jack. She hadn’t realised for weeks that the Jackie Melanie constantly went with to a disco or a film was this quick shrimp of a Londo
n boy. She’d thought that he was a girl, and Melanie had done nothing to correct the impression. This Jackie’s influence had got Melanie into a tight white skirt, white high heels and dangling earrings. Annie hadn’t liked the development and had been even less delighted when she came home one evening and caught the supposed Jacqueline drinking Coke and watching a video on the couch wearing only jeans and a back-to-front baseball cap on his blond, spiky hair.

  ‘Jackie, you’d better go home,’ she said. ‘I thought we agreed, eleven o’clock.’

  ‘Tom’s asleep in the spare room,’ Melanie reported.

  Annie sighed. ‘Jack …’ she prompted.

  He caught the tone of a tired and irritable adult, and left.

  Annie went to bed and out like a light. She hardly noticed Tom getting into bed with her, just moaned, and pushed him away. In the morning there was a note on the dressing table. ‘Darling A, I have an early meeting with my bank manager. I’ll come straight back.’

  Downstairs Annie found Jack asleep on the sofa. Unable to get into his house, he claimed tiredly, he’d had to come back. He looked too pathetic and skinny to be told off. Annie persuaded Melanie to take Alec and Joanne by boat to Hampton Court together with Jack. ‘Come down to the snack bar,’ Annie cried as she left. ‘I’ll give you a picnic.’

  Madame Katarina was waiting outside George’s with her suitcase. ‘Sausage, bacon, mushroom, tomato, toast and a cup of tea,’ she called as Annie banged about the kitchen, trying to catch up. ‘I’ve got an emergency consultation at nine. I came from Brighton early. There’s no food in my flat.’

  Annie lit the grill, put on the frying pan and called back, ‘Madame Katarina, this can’t be doing your arteries any good!’

  ‘Annie,’ came the reply, ‘I starved from when I was twelve, I was hungry from when I was fifteen. My arteries can take care of themselves. How are your troubles?’

  Annie thought of Tom’s betrayal and attempted return, if that was what it was. She thought of Abbott’s offer, evidently withdrawn, presumably because of the uncertainty over the Savernake Village plan, the debt on the restaurant. ‘My troubles are increasing,’ she said.