by Anna Jacobs
‘My wife?’
‘She’s had a sort of seizure, I’m afraid, and is unconscious. It happened just as we were going to take her to a secure ward at a nearby psychiatric hospital.’
‘Oh, dear.’
‘We’re not sure exactly what happened and she’s still being assessed. She’s in the best place here to get whatever help she needs, believe me.’
‘She’s been acting strangely for a while and I couldn’t persuade her to see anyone. She always said she was all right, but I could see she was getting worse.’
‘She’ll be carefully looked after, I promise. It’s you we have to worry about at the moment. You’re in desperate need of a good long rest. At your age, there’s a limit to how much you can or should do.’
They didn’t let him go home till the following day, by which time they’d run tests, put him on blood pressure pills and made him promise to take it easy. It was a promise he’d find easy to keep. He was still feeling exhausted.
The man who had driven him home in a sort of minibus helped him into the house, then left him on his own.
Phil could feel that Kath wasn’t around. She always seemed to generate an air of tension. At the moment the terraced house he’d worked so hard to buy was just a quiet little house in a quiet street. And that was what he needed most of all, peace and quiet.
He couldn’t go back to living with Kath, just … couldn’t do it any longer. Even if she did recover. Only, they weren’t sure she would. They’d told him not to make any alternative plans for her till they’d found out what was wrong.
What would Mara say about all that? Would she despise him for abandoning his wife? She had a new father now, a rich man by Phil’s standards. Would she choose him over the adopted father who’d raised her and loved her so very dearly?
No. He didn’t think his Mara would do that.
He was too tired to contact her now. He was going to follow instructions from the doctor to the letter: eat healthily, maybe watch a little television, do a few crosswords, read a book or two and have a good long rest. Most of all, avoid stress.
Tomorrow he’d think about the future. Or the next day. Whenever his brain resurfaced properly from a very dark abyss.
The house was cold so he turned up the central heating.
Someone knocked on the door and with a sigh he went to answer it, relaxing a little when he saw it was Sally from next door.
She held out a covered dish. ‘I won’t disturb you, Phil, but I brought you a casserole.’
He shivered. ‘That’s so kind of you. Why don’t you come in for a moment? We don’t want to let out all the warm air.’
‘I’ll make you a nice cup of tea, shall I?’
‘Make one for both of us. Um – was it you who called the ambulance?’
‘Yes. How’s Kath?’
So he said it out loud, to make it seem more real. ‘She’s had a sort of seizure. They were going to take her into the psychiatric hospital but she’s unconscious so they don’t want to move her till they find out why.’
‘She’s been a lot worse lately, hasn’t she?’
Her tone was so understanding, he nodded. ‘I coped for as long as I could, truly I did, but I’m not a young man and she – well, she needs more help than I can give her.’
‘You were wonderful with her,’ Sally said. ‘I don’t know how you managed to do it for so long.’
That made him feel slightly better because Sally couldn’t lie to save her life.
She stirred the tea in the little brown teapot. ‘Have you heard from Mara lately?’
‘Not for a day or two.’
‘Give her my regards next time you speak to her.’ She poured them mugs of tea and sat down near him, chatting of this and that.
As he finished his tea, he said something he’d wanted to tell her for years. ‘Eh, you’re a kind woman, Sally. I wish I’d had a wife like you, I do that.’
‘Well, you’ve still got a friend and neighbour like me. I get a bit lonely at times since my Donny died, I must admit, and you’ve helped fill that lack.’
‘I’ve been lonely for years. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’
She stood up and patted his hand. ‘I’ll leave you in peace now, my dear friend. You look like you could do with a nap.’
‘Yes. But it was nice seeing you.’
She moved towards the door, and he’d normally have stood up and escorted her out, but today he felt too tired to move.
She turned at the door to say, ‘I nearly forgot. I’m going shopping tomorrow morning so if you need anything just let me know before ten o’clock. I can easily pick up a few things for you.’
‘Thanks. I’ll have to check what’s in the fridge.’
‘You can buy some ice cream now. Goodness knows why she took against it.’
‘Said it made her head ache.’
‘Well, you make a list. Tell me what your favourite flavour is.’
‘Plain vanilla. Like me. I’m a very ordinary sort of chap.’
‘No, you’re not. You’re interesting to talk to, always have been.’
He stayed where he was after she’d left, feeling weak and tired, but her kindness had helped. Yes, it definitely had. It’d reminded him that there were kind people in the world and he didn’t have to struggle on his own. Not any longer.
The beef and vegetable casserole was still warm so he ate some of it, suddenly hungry. Then he put the rest in the fridge and sat on his big recliner armchair watching the local TV news.
When he woke it was nearly teatime and a different woman was talking on the TV. He switched the sound off, because she had one of those croaky voices that seemed to be fashionable among the younger generation. It made his throat ache to listen to them and he and Mara had joked about sending one particularly croaky young woman a packet of throat lozenges as a ‘present from a viewer’.
He was starting to feel he could cope. He would cope – with whatever happened. He wasn’t having Mara rushing home before she needed to and if a miracle occurred and Kath recovered, he wasn’t having his lass give up her life for a woman who was incapable of being anything else but selfish. Nor was he giving up any more of his own life.
Poor Kath. She’d been dealt a bad hand in life and had got slowly worse as the years passed. He’d had a hard time of it, too.
One day they’d probably be able to cure people like her but at least they didn’t lock them away or chain them up as they had in the past.
He watched what he wanted on TV, feeling guilty when he laughed aloud at a comedy show. It felt good to be able to do everything at his own pace, leave his mug on the small table beside his chair till the next time he got up.
He’d choose when to eat his meals, go out for strolls, just relax.
He slept like a log, not stirring all night. Wonderful, it was, to wake up and not have to get up straight away and make the bed.
Chapter Thirteen
The following morning Mara checked her emails and frowned. Nothing from her dad again. She hadn’t heard from him for a few days. Something must be wrong. She sent him another email straight away asking if he was all right.
Usually he’d have replied quite quickly but once again she didn’t hear back. If her mother had got worse, he’d have let her know, surely? So it couldn’t be desperate. Could it?
She decided to set her mind at rest by phoning just before she went out this evening. It’d be morning in the UK and he’d surely be around then. Since coming here she’d found out that the time differences between the two countries could be a nuisance, slowing down communication when one or the other of you was asleep.
She really needed to reassure herself that things were all right with her dad.
In the meantime, there was this evening to look forward to. And that thought made her realise that she hadn’t told Emma she’d been invited out for a meal by Hal Kendrell. She finished the last of her late breakfast and told her.
Her kind hostess beamed a
t the news. ‘How nice for you! Have you read any of his mother’s poetry? I keep meaning to but then I don’t get round to it.’
‘I own copies of all her books and I read her poems regularly. I even know a few of them by heart. I love how simple they can seem and yet she somehow gets to the heart of Life with a capital L. Real life I mean, not just writing about raving beauties, battles or pushy over-achievers.’
‘Wow. I must get round to buying one of her books if they light you up like that.’
Mara didn’t think Emma would buy one, or if she did, she wouldn’t read most of it. The older woman was what Mara thought of as a do-er, someone always busy doing something, not sitting around reading books. And the world needed them as well as poets. ‘Um, has Peggy got up yet?’
‘Got up and left before we even stirred.’ She sighed. ‘Didn’t leave us a message. There’s nothing we can do about that.’
The words were out before Mara could stop herself. ‘That’s so selfish. She must know how worried you are.’
Emma blinked her eyes a few times in a vain attempt to hold back tears, then gave up trying to conceal how upset she was. ‘She hasn’t been the same since she met that horrible man.’
Aaron came across the room, gave his wife a quick hug and began making a cup of coffee, hovering nearby protectively as he waited for the kettle to boil.
After a few moments, he asked casually, ‘Had any luck getting hold of your father, Mara? Well, keep trying. Don’t worry about using the phone.’
‘Thanks. How’s the business crisis going?’
‘We’ve drawn up the adverts for the job and my deputy will go through the applicants and make arrangements for me to see anyone suitable. Fortunately the woman isn’t leaving straight away.’
Later, when Mara was ready, she tried to phone her dad and got that disembodied automatic voice. Her mother was probably at home, but if she was still angry she’d not be answering, could even be deleting the messages from Australia. Mara would have to try again later.
She went downstairs to wait for six o’clock and her rendezvous with Hal. She’d put on one of the two skirts she’d brought with her, a full-skirted maxi in a flowery print, together with a matching top in a subtle dusky pink, one of her particular favourites.
Aaron whistled softly and held up his thumb to show his approval of her appearance.
Rufus came home from work just before she left.
‘Did you have a good time last night?’ his mother asked.
He beamed at her. ‘Yes. Jenn’s such good company, so easy to be with.’
‘You keep saying that.’
‘Well, this time it was as a prelude to telling you that I’m going to move in with her, Mum, so you won’t have to put up with me any longer.’
His mother gaped at this announcement. ‘Wow! That’s a first for you.’
‘What’s a first?’
Mara turned to see Peggy, who must have come into the house quietly while they were chatting.
‘Oh, hello, love.’
Rufus turned to his sister. ‘I’m moving in with Jenn. Doing it tonight, actually, if you don’t mind, Mum.’
‘I shall miss you but I do hope you’ll be happy.’
‘Heaven help the poor woman living with you,’ Peggy scoffed.
Rufus stiffened and scowled at her. ‘Fond sister you are not!’
She shrugged, caught her mother’s eye and said quickly, ‘I was just joking.’
‘Come and sit down,’ Emma said quietly.
She shook her head. ‘I’ve got something to do. And before you ask, I’ll get my own meal later, thanks.’
Emma opened her mouth, looking about to protest, but when Aaron gave her a quick poke in the side, she shut her mouth again.
Mara couldn’t help envying Rufus his happiness. Then she glanced at her watch and felt cheerful anticipation welling up. ‘Time for me to go. See you later.’
‘Just a minute.’ Aaron handed her a key. ‘In case we’re in bed when you get back. After what you saw yesterday we’re not leaving any doors unlocked.’
‘What did she see?’ Peggy asked sharply.
Emma waved her hand in a shooing motion. ‘I’ll tell her. You get off and have a lovely time, Mara.’
She turned to her daughter and explained what had happened.
Peggy blinked at her, for once not ready with a snippy answer, then asked, ‘Where’s Mara going? I thought she didn’t know anyone in Australia.’
‘She didn’t when she arrived but she got on well with Hal yesterday, and he must have liked her too, because he’s invited her out for a meal.’
The cloud descended quite visibly on Peggy’s face. ‘Lucky her!’ She swayed a little and grabbed a chair back to steady herself.
‘Are you all right?’ Emma asked.
‘Of course I am.’ She turned to go upstairs, but had only gone a couple of paces when she let out a gasp, crumpled and fell. She lay still, not moving.
Aaron rushed across to kneel by his daughter, feeling her pulse. ‘She’s taking a long time to regain consciousness. Call an ambulance, Emma!’
‘She won’t want that.’
‘She’s not getting a choice. Besides, this is a chance to get her some much-needed medical attention.’
Unaware of what was going on in the house, Mara got outside just as Hal’s garage door rolled upwards. As he reversed the car out another, much larger vehicle drove up behind him, blocking his exit.
A well-dressed woman got out and approached his car. ‘Could you please spare a minute, Mr Kendrell?’
‘No. I’m about to go out.’ He gestured towards Mara.
‘Oh, sorry. It’s just that I have a suggestion to speed matters up for you. I was thinking you’d need to clear the house and I could help you with that. I’ve done it before and can work quickly. It’ll save you time so that you can get on with your own life.’
He glared at her. ‘I am getting on with my life and as I’ve already told you, I don’t want to sell my house at present. What’s more, if I ever do sell it, it won’t be through someone who pesters me. Now, please leave.’
She hesitated, then shrugged and said, ‘Don’t hesitate to call me any time. My client is still very eager to buy this house.’
As she started to get back into her car, she paused for a moment to study Mara, giving her a sneering look as if finding her lacking in something.
Mara moved towards Hal’s car. ‘What’s that about?’
‘Estate agent trying to persuade me to sell the house. Second time she’s turned up out of the blue.’
‘Are you going to sell it?’
‘I don’t think so. I really like living by the water.’
He pressed the button that rolled his garage door down. ‘I’ll wait to see that it goes fully down before we leave. I’m being doubly careful from now on about security.’
‘I should think so, too.’ She looked along the street and saw that the estate agent had stopped to watch them.
As the door clicked into place, he turned to smile at her. ‘Never mind about her. Tonight is for you and me. You look lovely.’
She could feel herself blushing as he set off. ‘Oh. Well, thank you. So do you.’
He chuckled. ‘I’m supposed to give you compliments, not vice versa.’
‘I’m not fishing for praise.’
‘I can’t help complimenting you. You do look lovely, a real woman not a scrawny model type like the person who just left. Did you overhear what she said?’
‘Yes. Her voice is quite, um, penetrating.’
‘Got a horribly shrill edge to it. I don’t like women of that type. You’ve got a nice low voice with a soft timbre.’
He gave Mara another of those approving looks which made her feel flustered. ‘Right. Good. Thank you for your kind words, Hal. Now, enough of the compliments. Where are we going?’
‘You said you liked Indian food so I found a place in town by looking online and booked a table. I don’t know what t
he food will be like but the menu made my mouth water.’
‘Ooh, good.’
When he didn’t give her any more compliments she calmed down and by the time they arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later, she was feeling more herself again.
‘There’s no trouble finding parking when you go out early.’ He locked up the car and offered her his hand.
She took it without thinking and didn’t like to pull away when he kept a firm hold of it. Besides, she loved the warmth of his firm grasp as they strolled together towards the entrance to the restaurant, hand in hand.
They were shown to a table in one corner and an attentive waitress offered them menus, asking if they wanted poppadums and mango chutney to nibble on while they were sorting out what they wanted.
Hal raised one eyebrow at Mara and she nodded. ‘Yes, please.’
‘I’ll go and get them while you look at the menu, sir, madam.’
‘Do we share dishes or do you prefer to get your own, Mara?’ he asked.
‘I’d rather share.’
‘So would I.’
It was fun choosing a range of dishes and by the time they ate the last of the poppadums, their starters were arriving.
The food was excellent, but the conversation was the thing she was enjoying most, she decided as the evening progressed. He’d led a far more interesting life than she had and was happy to talk about the countries he’d lived in. He didn’t gush over what he’d seen like a tourist guide, but commented on the differences in how people lived, both the good and the bad aspects.
When she’d finished sharing a dessert of gulab jamun, she leant back and smiled at him. ‘That was wonderful. I ate too much but I don’t regret a mouthful.’
‘Neither do I. It’s great to see a woman who enjoys her food. I’m going to take the leftovers home. They’re too good to waste.’
‘I don’t like to waste anything, ever.’
‘Me neither.’
He looked at her as if wondering whether to say something.
‘Go on,’ she encouraged.