Hannah was stunned. “But it all looks so professional!”
“Well, I did borrow a few books on interior decoration from the library to give me some ideas,” Kate admitted. “But I wanted to really make my mark on the place. I thought if I carpeted the whole flat in a sort of creamy beige, then I could go a bit wild with the wall colours and jazz it up with some second-hand Turkish rugs.”
“This pale green is gorgeous.” Hannah uncurled herself from the armchair. “And I love the idea of doing one wall in dark green and lining it with bookshelves. It looks wonderful.” She crossed over to the far wall and examined the books. “My God, you’ve even got them in proper sections and in alphabetical order. Don’t tell me, you’re a frustrated librarian!”
“No, but I’m not like you. I do like a bit of order in my life, and besides, it was incredibly therapeutic to do.”
“Like making these, I imagine.” Hannah fingered the floor-length green and white striped curtains admiringly. “And you lined them!”
“If a job’s worth doing... as Miss Ellis used to say.”
“She’d have liked those pelargoniums on your windowsill too. Do you remember how much time she used to spend in that rose garden of hers? The gardeners weren’t allowed near it.”
“I expect she needed some form of therapy to help her cope with us lot. Especially the likes of you!”
“I was a bit of a so-and-so, wasn’t I?” Hannah grinned. “Though I did like the old place. Just think, if I hadn’t gone on and on to my parents about wanting to go to boarding school, I’d have gone to the local grammar school and then I’d never have met you!”
“And my schooldays would have been considerably more peaceful,” Kate reminded her. “Though what I’d have done without all those holidays with your family, I can’t imagine. Spending every summer with my parents in Surrey would have been unbearable.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh God, I’m sorry, that sounds so disloyal.”
Hannah hugged her. “It isn’t disloyal at all. You were an only child – it was natural for you to want to spend some time with your friends during the holidays. Though why you always thought my family was so wonderful I can’t imagine. I admit Devon does come as a bit of a welcome relief after Surrey, but a bunch of Quakers isn’t everyone’s idea of a good time!”
“But they’re such fun!” Kate felt her usual exasperation whenever Hannah criticised her parents. “They’re not all holier than thou, they just live their lives according to their principles and give a lot of happiness to a good many people in the process. They’re the only well-off people I know who really use their money to make the world a better place.”
“The house is always full, that’s for sure,” Hannah agreed. “Sometimes I used to long for a bit of space – there always seemed to be some deprived child from somewhere or other camping out on my bedroom floor. And as for Aidan, he could be a real pain sometimes.”
“Aidan’s wonderful! I used to be terrified of boys until I met him – he made me feel they really were part of the human race after all. Most eighteen-year-old boys wouldn’t go out of their way to welcome their kid sister’s friends.”
Hannah snorted rudely. “You’ve always had a soft spot for my brother. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you didn’t end up marrying him one day.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Feeling the colour rise to her cheeks, Kate leapt up. “Come on, let me show you the rest of the flat.” She led Hannah down the corridor to her bedroom. “I’m really pleased with the way this turned out. I wanted a blue bedroom, but I couldn’t make up my mind which shade, so I used all sorts – pale blue on the walls, dark blue for the cupboards and patterned blue curtains.”
Hannah’s approval was gratifying. “It’s fantastic!” She fingered the patchwork quilt, a riot of multi-patterned blue materials, which covered Kate’s bed. “How on earth did you manage to find this?”
“My aunt made it; she does quilting for a hobby. I searched out materials from jumble sales and so on and she put it all together.”
“And she didn’t mind making it for a double bed?” Hannah’s eyes were bright with amusement. “Or was she hoping you’d finally succumb to Jeremy’s charms?”
“She may have been, but she’s doomed to disappointment I can assure you. Jeremy’s a lovely cousin, and I’ll be eternally grateful to him for all that he’s done for me since my parents died, but as a romantic prospect – forget it. The chemistry’s just not there... on my side at least. I sometimes wish it was – it’d make my life a lot simpler.”
“With a bedroom like this,” Hannah teased, “you’ll have them queuing up to seduce you. Moody blue Kate... I can see it all now!”
“Get out of here.” Kate thumped her over the head with a cushion. “You can finish the tour without me – I’m going to make the tea.”
o0o
“So, tell me, what’s so awful about Harrison House?” Kate pushed the plate of flapjacks across the table. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating as usual.”
“It’s worse than awful.” Hannah took a gulp of tea. “It’s totally abysmal.”
“But I thought your parents were friends of the warden; isn’t that why they suggested you stayed there in the first place?”
“Oh, there’s nothing wrong with Esme – she’s the warden – except that she’s a Quaker of course, and I had hoped to have a break from all that... but she wasn’t there when I arrived yesterday. And there was this simply dreadful woman – well, girl, really, who claimed to be the deputy warden...” Hannah bit into a flapjack and chewed furiously. “And I really fell out with her in a big way... and all over a tea bag!”
“A tea bag!” Kate struggled to keep a straight face.
“Yes, a sodding tea bag! She said I’d used one of hers and she couldn’t afford to subsidise the eating habits of half a dozen residents, and if I hadn’t got any of my own perhaps I wouldn’t mind walking around the corner to the shop and buying some. She was so sarcastic I felt like pouring the blasted tea over her stupid head.”
“But if she was so fussy about other people using her tea bags why didn’t she keep them in a box with her name on?”
There was a moment’s silence.
“Well, her name was on the box – but I didn’t think she’d mind one wretched tea bag after I’d come all the way from Devon – and I was going to put one back as soon as I’d got some of my own.” Hannah’s face was suffused with righteous indignation. “She made me feel like a thief!”
“She does sound a bit unreasonable, I agree. But I suppose it must be infuriating if everyone in the house keeps taking things which you’ve bought for yourself. Maybe she’s really badly off.”
“Hey, who’s side are you on?” Hannah reached for her third flapjack. “I came here hoping for tea and sympathy. All I’m getting is fat!”
“Just trying to put the other point of view. You do tend to fly off the deep end sometimes as you well know.”
“Well, it was a lousy introduction to the place anyway,” Hannah grumbled. “And then she had the cheek to give me a form to fill in saying what type of voluntary work I intended to do while I was there. She might have given me the chance to unpack first.”
“What’s all this about voluntary work?” Kate was intrigued. “I thought it was just an ordinary hostel.”
“No such luck,” Hannah groaned. “Harrison House is what’s called a settlement. It’s where spoiled middle-class brats like me go to see how the other half live. At least, that’s what that awful deputy warden, Jo, made me feel.”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean to.” Kate poured a second cup of tea. “So, does everyone who lives there have to do some voluntary work in their spare time?”
Hannah nodded. “There’s all sorts of schemes – a Saturday playgroup for local kids, a literacy scheme, a law centre – you know the sort of
thing.”
“Actually, I don’t. I’ve never come across anywhere like that before. It sounds fascinating.”
“I suppose it is in a way,” Hannah agreed reluctantly. “I mean, if I do end up training to do social work, it’ll be useful to have had some sort of practical experience. A sociology degree might be interesting, but it’s all a bit academic.”
Kate smiled. “Somehow, I can’t really visualise you as a social worker; it’s just not exotic enough for you. And you do need a lot of patience!”
“To be absolutely one hundred per cent honest, the thought appals me.” Hannah lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I just haven’t a clue what I want to do. I knew my parents wouldn’t be over-keen on my coming to London anyway, and I thought a sociology degree sounded worthy without being boring, so I sort of hinted that I might end up doing social work.”
“You never told me you had to be so devious.” Kate was indignant.
“You’re so close to my parents, I thought you might give the game away.” Hannah gave a wry grin. “Anyway, I didn’t actually tell them I wanted to be a social worker – I just sort of hinted at it. I only hope that by the time I’ve finished my degree, some other more suitable career will have suggested itself to me. In the meantime,” her face brightened visibly, “I intend to enjoy myself.”
“I doubt you’ll have time to relax much, what with all the studying and voluntary work you’ll have to do,” Kate teased.
Hannah’s green eyes narrowed. “Just watch me. And anyway, what about you? What do you do for relaxation now that you’ve decorated the flat and made the curtains?”
“Nothing really, that’s the trouble.” Tears pricked at the back of Kate’s eyes and she blinked them back impatiently. “I’m fine at work and I was fine at home while I had all the painting and things to do, but now it’s all finished – I don’t know, I feel empty somehow. Too much time to think, I suppose.”
“And that’s when you get depressed?”
Kate nodded. “I know it’s perfectly normal to grieve and go through all sorts of guilt feelings and depression and all that, and I know that one day, sooner or later, I’ll wake up and feel normal again. But knowing that doesn’t seem to make the present any more bearable.”
Hannah reached for another flapjack but changed her mind with obvious reluctance. Kate watched the inner struggle with amusement; one of the things she loved about her friend was the transparency of her emotions. Suddenly she saw her face brighten.
“I have just had the most brilliant idea!”
“Oh yes?” Kate had learned to be wary of Hannah’s brilliant ideas.
“It’s an idea that could make life better for both of us.” Hannah’s enthusiasm was always hard to resist. “What you need is something to interest you and make you feel useful – what I need is a friendly face to make life at Harrison House more bearable. Why don’t you let out your flat to some reliable businessman, who will no doubt pay handsomely for the privilege, and come and live at the hostel with me? It’s really cheap and you’d probably be able to save enough to treat yourself to a really exotic holiday. Come to that, you could take me with you since it was all my idea in the first place!” Bowled over by her own brilliance, Hannah forgot her good intentions and reached for another flapjack.
Kate was stunned. She had put so much work into making the flat her very own that it seemed almost wilfully stupid to suddenly abandon it. On the other hand, the prospect of returning to a lively hostel every evening, where she could have a laugh with Hannah and throw herself into as much voluntary work as was necessary to keep her depression at bay, was decidedly appealing.
Hannah was watching her closely. “The room next door to mine is free and it’s lovely and big and airy and you’d have room for all your books... and you’d simply love Esme Connors – she’s very like Mum... but even more vague, if that’s possible, in a Quakerly sort of way, of course.”
That decided her. “You’re right! It’s an absolutely brilliant idea – probably the best you’ve ever had. And most important of all, I’ll be able to protect that unfortunate deputy warden from any more of your unreasonable tirades!”
o0o
Jo slammed the stapler through the umpteenth set of forms which lay on the desk in front of her. If there was one thing she didn’t need it was yet another toffee-nosed idiot coming to live at Harrison House. Worse still, as Esme had told her in that infuriatingly gentle way of hers, she was Hannah Matheson’s best friend. Well, anyone who was best friend to that arrogant, red-haired, la-di-da madam was going to be one big pain, that was for sure.
The stapler jammed. Infuriated, Jo hurled it at the wall.
“Oh, it’s got stuck again, has it? It’s always doing that.” Esme’s smiling face appeared around the door. She retrieved the stapler, fiddled absent-mindedly with it for a few moments, and put it back on Jo’s desk. “I think you’ll find it works all right now.”
“Sorry, Esme, I shouldn’t have lost my temper with it.” Jo found herself giving the warden her usual apologetic smile. Somehow, she always seemed to be apologising to Esme. The woman was almost unnaturally pleasant – normal human emotions such as anger or impatience didn’t seem to be part of her make-up.
“No apology needed,” Esme beamed. “You work so hard and sleep so little, you wouldn’t be normal if you didn’t lose your temper occasionally.” She gazed absently around the room. “Now, what did I come in here for, I wonder?”
“Stamps? Envelopes? A message for me?” Jo hazarded.
“Ah yes,” Esme brightened, “it was indeed a message for you. I’ve got to pop out for an hour or so, and I wondered if you could possibly show Hannah’s friend Kate Deveraux around if she shows up before I’m back. She was going to call in after work, but I’m not sure what time that’ll be.”
“Sure – no problem,” Jo assumed her most reassuring expression.
“Excellent, excellent.” Esme tucked a strand of greying hair back into her wayward bun. “I knew I could rely on you. Finances are rather tight at the moment, as the management committee keep telling me, so I’m anxious to fill the room if I can.” She drifted out of the room.
Jo slumped back in her chair. Now what was she going to do? The prospect of having to be pleasant to Hannah’s best friend and encourage her to come and live at Harrison House filled her with horror. On the other hand, she was fond of Esme and eternally grateful to her for giving her the job of deputy warden. And if there weren’t enough residents living at the hostel there was always the possibility that the management committee would insist on doing away with her job altogether. It was a moral dilemma and one she didn’t feel up to coping with on a Monday afternoon.
Ten minutes later the doorbell rang. A slender, pale-faced girl with blonde hair stood on the doorstep. She extended her hand shyly.
“Hello, I’m Kate Deveraux – a friend of Hannah’s. I think Esme Connors is expecting me.” She gave Jo a hesitant smile.
“Esme’s out.” Jo took the proffered hand reluctantly. “She told me to show you around instead.” Her lips refused to return the smile.
“You must be Jo.” Kate’s smile widened. “Hannah told me that you worked with Esme.”
Jo grunted. Whatever Hannah had told her friend she certainly wasn’t giving anything away. She stood back for Kate to enter. “If you follow me, I’ll show you the room.” She marched upstairs without turning around. Kate followed her down the winding corridor to room 10. Jo flung open the door.
“But it’s lovely!” There was no mistaking the delight in Kate’s voice and Jo’s heart sank. “It’s much bigger than I thought it would be – and I love that view over the gardens.” She leaned on the windowsill and looked out across the square.
“It’s full of drunks at night. You’d probably have trouble sleeping.”
“I’ll buy some earplugs.�
�� Kate opened the wardrobe door and peered inside. “Good. It’s got shelves as well as hanging space – I won’t need to bring my chest of drawers.”
“The damp often gets in. I’d be careful not to put any expensive clothes in there – you might suffer with mildew. And then, of course, there are the mice.” She left a pregnant pause.
“Any other defects I should know about?” The irony in Kate’s voice was unmistakable. She sat down on the bed and bounced gently. “It feels comfortable enough, but I expect I’ll have to watch out for the bedbugs.”
“It might be a good idea,” Jo agreed weakly.
Kate stopped bouncing. “I’d really like to take the room.” She gave Jo a candid look from a pair of startling blue eyes. “I don’t know if Hannah mentioned it, but my parents were killed in a car crash earlier this year. I’m finding it rather hard to adjust to living on my own.”
“No, she didn’t.” Jo’s hostility vanished. “I’m so sorry; I lost my mother this year too.” Their eyes met and there was no mistaking the sympathy in Kate’s smile.
“You still have a father?”
“He’s not around.” Jo heard the abruptness in her voice and hated herself for it. Quickly she changed the subject. “Can I show you around the rest of the building?”
“Thanks. I’d like that.”
Kate followed her back down the corridor.
“This is the chapel. It’s for all denominations to use, though not many do.” Jo pushed open a pair of swing doors to reveal a small room containing a dozen chairs and a simple altar. A bunch of wild flowers and a bible stood on a small wooden table to one side of the room.
“I can see Esme uses this,” Kate observed.
“She does – but how do you know?”
Kate smiled. “The wild flowers and the bible on the table – they’re a very Quakerish touch. Anglicans tend to go for a more formal floral arrangement.”
Onwards Flows the River Page 2