“Is that so? I’m an atheist myself, so one flower arrangement is much the same as another to me.”
“You never use the chapel yourself then?”
Jo hesitated. “Well, I do sometimes – if I need to get away from people. The trouble with my job is that you’re never really off duty even when you are off duty... if you know what I mean. Everyone knows where my room is, so I can’t get away from them there.”
“So, the chapel is a kind of refuge for you.”
“It’s certainly the last place anyone would ever look for me.” Jo grinned. “I make no secret of my feelings about religion.”
“If you hated it that much I should have thought you’d avoid the chapel like the plague,” Kate observed. “You’d be afraid of getting contaminated.”
Jo shrugged. “If I ever find myself believing in God, it’ll be time for the funny farm. This religious stuff, it’s all nonsense.”
“I hope not.” Kate glanced at the altar, gleaming gold as the last rays of the dying sun slanted through the window. “Faith to me is what makes life worthwhile. It makes the good times better and the bad times much more bearable.” She gave Jo an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound preachy. Hannah would have told me to shut up by now.”
“I thought Esme said Hannah was a Quaker. That’s how she got to know the family, wasn’t it?”
Kate nodded. “Hannah’s a birthright Quaker – that means her parents were practising Quakers, so she and her brother were born into it. But I think she’s rather off religion at the moment. It’s a bit like having parents who run a pub – if you’re brought up with the smell of beer in your nostrils, it’ll probably turn you teetotal.”
Jo thought of her father, back from one of his benders, staggering in through the kitchen door in search of a fight. If there was a God, he wouldn’t have allowed her mother to be sent sprawling on the floor night after night. Other memories, even more disturbing, crowded into her consciousness. She pushed them away resolutely. Her heart was pounding. Suddenly she couldn’t wait to get out of the chapel.
“We’d better get on. I have to go out to work soon.” She hurried down the corridor.
Kate was puzzled. “I thought you were working. Surely you don’t have another job as well?”
“I do waitressing some evenings. It helps with the cash flow.” Something in Jo’s tone warned Kate not to probe further.
“All the residents’ rooms are on this floor – the names are on the doors.” Jo pointed to a flight of stairs curving upwards from the landing. “There’s nothing up there except for the studio. Leigh Brennan – he’s a local artist – rents it from the settlement. I expect you’ll see him around the place.”
“An artist – how romantic!” Kate was intrigued. “Is he attractive?”
Jo shrugged. “A bit Byronic – all black hair and penetrating eyes. Fine if you like that sort of thing I suppose.”
Kate followed her down the stairs.
“This, rather obviously, is the kitchen. Residents take it in turns to cook breakfast, but the evening meal is provided.” Jo led the way into a large white-painted room with a tiled floor. A vast wooden table stood in the middle of the room and a set of gleaming copper-bottomed saucepans hung on the wall beside the Aga. In the far corner of the room a large marmalade cat snoozed peacefully on a Windsor chair.
“That’s Orlando.” Jo sighed. “When he’s not eating, he’s sleeping, and vice versa of course. He’s quite the most useless cat I’ve ever known.”
“He never catches all those rampant mice on the first floor then?”
Jo looked at her suspiciously. Kate’s eyes were bright with amusement.
“There aren’t any mice – as you no doubt guessed.”
“Nor bedbugs I trust. And I think my clothes might well survive the ravages of mildew.”
Jo leant against the sink, arms folded defensively across her chest. “I didn’t want you to come here. I thought you’d be like Hannah.”
“Hannah may be my closest friend, but we’re totally different people. She, for instance, would see nothing wrong in borrowing a tea bag from someone else’s box, knowing that she would replace it the next day. Nor would she mind anyone else borrowing one of hers. She’s one of the most generous people I know. I, on the other hand, would always ask before borrowing anything – but that doesn’t give me the moral high ground. I’m just terrified of falling out with people, I suppose.”
“But she was so arrogant about it,” Jo complained. “I wouldn’t have minded if she had apologised.”
“Hannah’s always arrogant when she knows she’s in the wrong,” Kate explained. “It’s not that she thinks she’s better than the other person: it’s just her way of defending herself.”
“I’ll take your word for it. But I’ll be steering clear of her in future. It’s just a relief to know that there won’t be two Hannahs staying at Harrison House.”
“Does that mean I can move into room 10?”
Jo grinned. “I’m sure Esme will be as pleased as I am to have you here.”
“Did I hear my name mentioned?” Esme Connors appeared in the doorway. “You must be Hannah’s friend, Kate.” She grasped Kate’s hand warmly. “Did you like the room?”
“I loved it,” Kate assured her. “And I’m looking forward to getting involved in some of the voluntary work you do here. It’ll help me to keep my mind off my own problems.”
“I think that’s why most people do it,” Esme observed. “At least, that’s why they usually get involved in the first place. And once they begin to understand the value of what they are doing, they carry on doing it for its own sake.” She turned to Jo. “It’s time you were off to the restaurant, isn’t it?”
Jo nodded. “I’m due there in fifteen minutes; I’ve just got time to get changed.”
Outside in the hallway the front door slammed and they heard feet running down the corridor.
“I’m out of here.” Jo headed for the door. “See you again, Kate.”
“Thanks for the tour.”
Hannah burst into the kitchen and stood watching them breathlessly. “Is it all right then? Did you like the room? Are you going to be coming here?”
“Yes, in triplicate,” Kate assured her. “If it’s all right with Esme that is.”
“Fine, dear, fine. I spoke to Hannah’s parents about you last night, as you suggested. They gave you a glowing reference.”
“Have you been friends with them for long?”
“More years than I care to remember. What with them living in Devon and me in London, I don’t see them that often. But we bump into each other at Friends House from time to time – generally at some committee meeting or other.”
Kate smiled. “They’ve been like second parents to me since I was twelve. Some holidays I hardly spent any time in my own home at all.”
“You were obviously a welcome guest – they spoke very highly of you.” Esme looked thoughtful. “I must say, they seemed inordinately keen for you to come to Harrison House. Maybe they thought Hannah might be lonely, this being her first time in London.”
“Absolutely.” Hannah winked at Kate. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s loneliness. So, the sooner you move in, the better.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Jeremy, you’ve been an absolute angel – I don’t know how I’d have managed without you.” Kate reached up and planted a warm kiss on her gangly cousin’s cheek. She watched with amusement as Jeremy’s normally pale complexion took on a rosy hue. “If I’d had to bring all my stuff over in Sooty, I’d have been driving back and forth all day.”
“Nothing to it, Kate old thing, glad to be of service. What’s an estate car for if not to move young cousins around the metropolis?” A young fogey of twenty-four, Jeremy’s paternalistic ma
nner had become intensified since the death of her parents. In a way, she found it comforting. Jeremy in his role as paterfamilias was infinitely preferable to Jeremy the romantic hero.
They surveyed the room in silence. A large trunk containing Kate’s clothes stood against one wall and four hefty boxes of books against another. Scattered in between were suitcases of various sizes, and a miscellany of plastic carrier bags.
“It’s just as well I had the room decorated and the shelves put up before I moved in,” Kate observed ruefully. “Can you imagine me trying to paint the walls with all this stuff around?”
“Lord no,” Jeremy agreed. “I hope you won’t be too cramped in here. Trying to fit all your personal possessions into one room – even if it is a big one – is a bit of a nightmare after having a whole flat to yourself.”
“It’ll be fine once I’ve unpacked everything,” Kate told him firmly. Jeremy had a habit of fussing around her like an old mother hen if he was in the least concerned about her welfare. It was kindly meant but somewhat wearing on the nerves. “I think Harrison House is just what I need for a year or two. It’ll be great to have Hannah around and getting involved in some voluntary work will take my mind off myself for a change.”
“Just as long as you don’t overdo it.” Jeremy’s forehead creased with anxiety. “You’ve always had a tendency to overwork: I’m just worried you’ll take on too much.”
“I promise I won’t. Besides, I’m sure Hannah will insist on dragging me off to have some fun now and then.”
“Golf is an excellent form of relaxation. I strongly recommend it.” Jeremy looked at her hopefully.
“For you, Jeremy, but not for me. I’m hopeless at ball games.” Kate gave him an apologetic smile. “I’d probably end up killing someone, and that wouldn’t do your reputation at the club any good.”
She rummaged in one of the boxes and brought out a jar of instant coffee. “Why don’t you come down to the kitchen with me and I’ll make us a drink before you go?”
Jeremy clattered down the stairs after her.
In the kitchen they found Jo, seated at the large wooden table, her dark head bent over a notepad. She looked up and smiled as Kate introduced her cousin. “You find me compiling the weekly shopping list – one of my least favourite jobs. You’d never believe how much food eight women get through in seven days and I always manage to forget something crucial.”
“There are only eight of you here altogether then, are there?” Jeremy perched on the edge of the table as Kate set about making the drinks. “Somehow I imagined there would be more of you in such a large house.”
“Most of the downstairs rooms are let out to various community groups during the week,” Jo explained. “But there are only eight of us who actually live here. There’s Esme Connors – she’s the warden – and myself; then there’s Barbara, who’s a teacher; Rose, who works as an assistant down at the night shelter; Veronica and Debbie, who are both music students; and Kate and her friend.”
Jo’s reluctance to even mention Hannah’s name didn’t escape Kate’s notice. She leaned against the sink watching them. Petite Jo, with her elfin face and boyish haircut, her black jeans and tee shirt presented such a contrast to her tall, tweedy cousin that she almost laughed out loud.
And yet, she reflected later, as they sat around the table drinking coffee, Jeremy might be old-fashioned, but he was infinitely kind and generous and had never been known to utter a cruel word to anybody. If only she could have found it in her heart to love him, how much simpler life would be. Her aunt would be thrilled, Jeremy would be delighted and as for herself – she would never have to worry about anything ever again. They would buy an executive-style house somewhere in the suburbs, raise 2.5 children, and Jeremy would commute each day to his job in the City. On Sundays, they would have his mother over to lunch and Jeremy would play golf in the afternoon. For holidays, they would bundle the kids into the immaculate estate car which sat in their drive and depart for Bournemouth or Weston-Super-Mare which Jeremy and his mother had always visited on alternate years. His mother, of course, would still accompany them.
Kate’s jaw cracked into a yawn.
Jeremy leapt to his feet. “I must be off, Kate. I can see you’re exhausted and I know you want to get on with unpacking. Nice to meet you, Jo. See you again sometime.”
“Likewise.” Jo turned her attention to her shopping list as Kate showed her cousin to the door.
o0o
“Don’t tell me – he still lives with his mother and she makes him wear vests in winter!” Jo’s eyes were bright with amusement when Kate returned to the kitchen.
“Pretty much,” Kate agreed. “But as a cousin he’s a godsend and I can’t imagine how I’d have got through the past nine months without him.”
Jo nodded. “I imagine he’s a man who can be relied upon. And there aren’t many of those around.”
The bitterness in her tone stirred Kate’s curiosity. Something in Jo’s past had hurt her badly, that much was obvious. A warm and loving childhood would have been unlikely to generate such a sharp-tongued, abrasive character. One day, she hoped, Jo would come to trust her enough to confide in her, but she had seen how abruptly she could bring down the shutters on her private life and had no intention of prying.
“Hannah does a very accurate imitation of Jeremy. You must ask her to show you sometime.” Jo’s expression told Kate that she was unlikely to take her up on the invitation. “Do you know where she is, by the way? I thought she might be here as it’s Saturday.”
Jo shrugged. “Out boozing with her mates, I expect. It’s what she seems to spend most of her time doing.”
“Hmm.” Kate lacked the energy to take up the baton on Hannah’s behalf. “I expect I’ll catch up with her later. Right now, I’d better do something about the chaos in my room.”
“And I’d better get on with the shopping.” Jo stuffed the list into her jeans pocket and headed for the door.
“Have you got transport? I’d be happy to give you a lift.”
“Harrison House runs to its own van, thank God. It’s a bit like Esme; somewhat old and battered, but goes like a bomb.” Jo’s grin took the malice out of her words. “Thanks for the offer, Kate. It’s going to be good having you at Harrison House.”
o0o
Pleased by Jo’s gruff compliment, Kate took the stairs two at a time determined to transform her room into a comfortable bedsit. She couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed that Hannah wasn’t around, but no doubt she had made plenty of new friends in her first fortnight at Southbridge Poly and it was only natural for her to want to spend some time with them.
She switched on Radio Three, hoping to find something light and energising and was rewarded with Mozart’s Horn Concerto. By the time the music ended, Kate’s trunk was empty and the wardrobe full of her neatly pressed clothes. She regarded them with complacency. The fact that the wooden hangers were equally spaced and all facing the same way might, she reflected, indicate some degree of neurosis. But her need for a sense of order amongst her personal possessions was paramount. In an uncertain world, they, at least, were something which she could control.
She pushed the empty trunk across the room so that it stood longways against the wall beside the bed. Covered with her tartan rug and a strategically placed Anglepoise lamp, it made a perfect bedside table.
Next came the books. Mozart had given way to Debussy by the time Kate had organised the shelves to her satisfaction. Carefully she eased the elegant walnut desk, which had belonged to her mother, so that it stood facing the window, at right angles to the book-clad wall. A bright blue china mug decorated with leaping dolphins contained her pens and pencils; a stapler, hole-punch and calculator neatly parallel beside it.
Finally, Kate unfolded the old wooden screen which she had acquired only the previous week from a junk shop
around the corner from her flat. It would, she had decided, be the perfect way to divide her new room into a sleeping space and a living space.
The side of the screen which faced her desk was as yet bare, except for a poster from the Tate advertising future exhibitions. But the other side bore testimony to a part of herself which she generally kept well hidden – her artistic side – with a colourful miscellany of family photographs and holiday postcards which she had collected over the years. Lying in bed she would be able to let her gaze wander over this pictorial autobiography and reaffirm her sense of who she was. Her parents were there, smiling obediently at the camera, beer glasses in hand, outside some Surrey pub; a group of friends posed self-consciously in front of the ivy-clad walls of the school library and Jeremy and his mother beamed at her from some long-forgotten dinner party.
Most striking of all, and dotted randomly across the screen so that the eye was constantly drawn to them, were her Devon collection. Hannah’s parents, George and Mary Matheson, smiled at her from the doorway of the red-brick Quaker meeting house at Westermouth. Nearby, Aidan and Daniel, with Hannah giggling in between, lounged casually against the rough white stone wall of Cockle Cottage. There were endless postcards of Cocklecombe itself, its tiny cottages clustered around the creek and boats with myriad bright-hued sails billowing in the wind. Kate had only to look at them to feel herself transported to the balmy warmth of those endless Devon summers.
There was one photo, however, which she would not be pinning on the screen. Kate perched on the bed and took out a red leather wallet from her handbag. From the zipped compartment at the back of the wallet she extracted a small passport photograph of Aidan, looking serious, a lock of auburn hair falling across his forehead. It was a photo she had acquired three years previously when Aidan, Daniel, Hannah and herself had found themselves next to a photo booth in a shopping arcade in Westermouth and decided to capture the moment.
‘I’d frighten the Devil away,’ was Aidan’s only comment when he’d seen the results. Idly he had tossed the strip into a litter bin and the four of them had glided up the escalator to a cafe on the second floor. Kate had excused herself for a few minutes, saying that she had to get a birthday card for Jeremy. She had taken the escalator back down to the ground floor, run to the litter bin, and – somewhat to the surprise of passers-by – rooted around in the rubbish until she found the photos. One picture in the strip remained unsullied and she had torn it off. The tiny snapshot had resided in her wallet ever since.
Onwards Flows the River Page 3