Emily blushes. ‘I haven’t been here before,’ she says, ‘but if you carry on ladling out the soft soap like that, I’ll definitely be back for more. I’m loving all this Galadriel stuff.’
‘This is Don and Julia’s granddaughter, Emily,’ says Andy.
‘Of course it is. Now I know why those eyes seemed familiar.’
George escorts them to the best table, overlooking the beach, and brings them ice-cold water in a carafe. The evening light is at its most perfect at this time, Andy thinks, seeing that they’re going to have a fabulous view of the sunset very shortly. It’s a romantic place. Is he wrong to be thinking like this? Emily doesn’t seem to have any idea what she’s doing to him. Surely Allie wouldn’t mind him having designs on another woman after all this time? It’s been over six years, for goodness’ sake. Well, apart from that one night with Candice …
‘It’s so good to stop dashing around and relax for a little while,’ says Emily, raising her water glass to Andy and gazing out over the bay.
‘Yes, I guess your world’s pretty frantic compared to the pace here, isn’t it?’
‘I’m very busy at work, it’s true.’
‘And … and in your private life? I don’t want to sound nosy, but are you … involved with anyone at the moment?’
Emily opens her mouth to speak just as her phone buzzes to show a text coming in. She takes it from her bag and glances at it. ‘Sorry, Andy, just making sure it’s not Gran.’
He watches her mouth tighten as she reads the message. Probably not Julia then – if it was an emergency she’d have rung, wouldn’t she, not written an essay? Andy waits, his heart sinking. Emily puts her phone back into her bag and stares out of the window, oblivious to the wonderful colours that are now starting to streak the sky.
‘Emily?’
She sighs, and brings her attention back to him with an effort. ‘I’m sorry, that was really rude of me. I just wondered if she was OK. But it wasn’t Gran.’
‘No, I didn’t think it was.’ George appears with menus and a complementary glass of prosecco for each of them, but Andy’s lost interest in the food and wine for the moment. ‘Was it a message from someone special, then?’
‘Not any more. His name’s Max. He’s in the States at the moment but apparently he’s coming here to see me. A surprise visit. He lands tomorrow.’
The evening rolls on as they eat an amazing paella and drink a very fine chablis. The sky continues to paint its stripes of gold, amber and deep blue, but the sunset’s wasted on Andy tonight. So some guy called Max is coming. Terrific. Just when everything was starting to fall into place.
Back at Shangri-La, May is even more preoccupied than Andy. Seeing those two young people going off to enjoy themselves has stirred her up. She settles herself on the veranda to watch the sun perform its tricks with the colour palette and hopes fervently that Andy and Emily are on the brink of finding that they’re interested in each other as more than friends. It’s time that lovely man had some fun, and Emily seems like just the right sort of girl to jolly him out of his sadness. Her mind jumps forward to thoughts of weddings, and she laughs at herself when she realises she’s planning the next fifty years for them.
Looking back on her own nuptials, May pulls a face. That day dawned mistily and there was a chill in the air, even though it was late July. May and Charles had decided on a mid-week, very small affair – they’d walk along the road to church together, and afterwards would eat fish and chips on the beach with Charles’s close friend Cyril and May’s elderly and utterly charming aunt Barbara, who was travelling from Exeter especially to see her niece ‘properly wed’.
In the event, as she prepared for the day May was overtaken by a desperate longing for her parents, and for the much more extravagant celebrations they would have wanted. Her hands shook as she tried to make her hair look decent.
This isn’t unusual, she told herself firmly as she took deep breaths. Many brides and grooms must resort to artificial means to steady their nerves, but all of a sudden she knew she couldn’t go through with it, unless … She certainly didn’t want to have a shot of brandy and smell boozy when she faced the vicar, or fall up the church steps. There was only one way. Reaching into a drawer in her dressing table, she pulled out a roll of fabric. Aunt Barbara, worried at the lack of pomp, had insisted that even at a low-key wedding the bride must follow the tradition of ‘something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue’. May’s dress was new and also blue, her shoes were last year’s summer sandals and the something borrowed lay deep inside the bundle now on her lap.
Unrolling it carefully, she lifted the necklace up to catch the light from the dim overhead bulb. It glittered quietly to itself, several rows of stunning amethysts strung on gold chains. As she placed it around her neck and fumbled with the clasp, May cried out loud, so overwhelming were the waves of joy emanating from the jewels. Effervescent bubbles of delight brought her to her feet, and she caught sight of herself in the mirror on the wall. Her eyes were shining now. Gone was the look of apprehension. Even her hair looked more alive, crackling with static electricity and curling in just the right way for once.
May’s wedding day stands out in her mind as a snapshot of giddy happiness, thanks to Aunt Barbara’s necklace. It’s a pity the same can’t be said for the rest of her marriage.
Chapter Sixteen
The bad weather arrives a day earlier than forecast. May gazes out of the window at the dripping trees and wonders whether the rain will stop Julia coming across the road for their daily fix of letter sorting. They’re getting on with the job quickly now, and they’ve got an efficient system going. Gusts of wind are battering the windows every few seconds, making her feel as if she’s under siege, and the waves are crashing against the rocks and the harbour walls, sending up explosions of spray.
As she watches the road, May sees Andy come out of his house with Tamsin, both bundled up in waterproofs and wearing wellies. The rain water is pouring down the hill, making rivulets that are perfect for a little girl to jump in. Tamsin holds onto her dad’s hand as she hops and skips her way up the lane, but Andy’s shoulders are slumped. May heard him come home the evening before. It couldn’t have been much after nine o’clock. Not a successful night by anyone’s standards, she thinks. What a shame.
May feels restless today. Maybe it’s the weather, or perhaps she needs a quick burst of energy. She picks up a letter at random from the next pile waiting for sorting and holds it gently in both hands. As she lets the tingling of the incoming memories enter her body, May feels herself begin to relax. At first she has no need to read the words – the images tumbling into her mind are enough. This one’s from Kathryn, and that lively young woman is an ideal candidate for May’s harvesting. Even at this distance in time, Kathryn’s personality is strong enough to bridge the intervening years. After a while, soothed and happy, May begins to read Kathryn’s news and is soon totally absorbed.
I’m sorry to tell you that Mother is frailer than ever. The ring has preyed on her mind more than I can say over these last months, and she seems to be blaming her ill health on its loss. She says she should never even have considered giving it to Julia, and I think she’s right, to be honest. I would have loved it and would have taken good care of it. Joe and I are engaged now, and if I have a little daughter of my own in the future, she would be the perfect person to have the ring after me. You only have Felix, after all, and what will he want with an opal ring?
Elsie shows no signs of settling down, and Will, of course, is now in Ireland for good. A priest in the family – who’d have thought it, Don? Mother doesn’t know whether to be proud he’s become so devout or scandalised that he’s been totally absorbed into Catholicism …
May takes a deep breath and stands up carefully. She’s overdone it now. The buzz is taking over. To calm herself, she grabs her stick and walks over to the window, taking tiny steps so as not to overbalance. As her head stops spinning and her vision righ
ts itself, May sees the front door opposite open. Julia emerges, looking up at the sky in disgust. She puts up her umbrella and sallies forth across the road, trying to avoid the worst of the little streams flowing down towards the beach.
‘Come in, dear, and get warm,’ shouts May, as Julia bursts in, shaking her umbrella under the porch before she drips all over the lino.
‘Ugh. It’s horrible out there. Shall I put the kettle on?’
‘Good idea. I’ve got the electric fire going, so it’s cosy in here. Let’s have some of that new gingerbread Ida dropped round for me. She’s not a bad soul, for all her gossiping.’
They settle down in front of the fake flickering flames, tea tray and cake tin between them, and Julia sighs contentedly. ‘I’d have gone stir crazy if I’d stayed in the house a minute longer,’ she says.
‘Really? Is Emily not in a good mood this morning?’
‘She most certainly is not. Apparently, she had a message from a friend last night. A gentleman friend, by all accounts, name of Max, and he’s arriving today – from America, mind you – to see her.’
‘No! But …’
‘I know. There she was, having a lovely night out with Andy, and he has to go and spoil it all.’
‘Did you know about this Max person, then?’
‘I had my suspicions there had been somebody fairly recently but she was playing her cards very close to her chest so I guessed it was a situation I wouldn’t approve of, if you get my drift, May?’
May purses her lips. ‘Married?’
‘As it turns out, yes – with three children and a very unstable wife, so Emily tells me.’
‘Oh dear.’
They sit in silence for a while, drinking their tea. Eventually May says, ‘So what about Andy?’
‘I don’t think Andy comes into it. Emily’s got to go off to Newquay airport in hideous weather to fetch this … this person who’s messed up her night out and now clicks his fingers and she jumps. I’d have told him where to get off. She says it’s all over between them but it seems he has other ideas and she feels honour bound to at least talk to him when he’s come all this way to see her.’
‘Where will he stay?’
‘He’s booked a suite at the most expensive hotel in Penzance. You know the one I mean? With the chandeliers?’
‘Not short of a bob or two then?’
‘Just what I thought. Anyway, I feel so sorry for Andy. I think he had hopes of his own. He’s not really looked at another woman since Allie died. Well, not one you’d class as a lady, anyway. It’s time he had some fun.’
‘I agree. So terribly sad for them both.’
Julia looks as if she’s on the point of bursting into tears and May hastily takes steps to change the subject.
‘Shall we do a bit more sorting?’ she asks. ‘If we can arrange a few more of the early letters into the right piles Andy could make a start on cataloguing them. He won’t be able to work outside today.’
‘Have you done some without me?’
‘Only a few. This one was interesting. It’s all about Don’s mother regretting saying you could have the ring.’
‘Let me see.’
Julia reads the letter in silence, becoming paler by the minute. Eventually she looks up.
‘Is it true, do you think? Is the ring a lucky charm? Because if it is, I want to find it. I need that ring, May, and quickly.’
‘Give me the letter back, Julia – I’ll file it. You don’t need to think about it now. Maybe we can solve the mystery if we carry on reading. I would love to get the ring back for you, wherever it’s ended up. Don’t worry yourself.’
Julia hesitates for a moment and then hands the envelope over. As May takes it, a rush of energy floods her body and mind. Julia blinks, as if she’s just woken up from a deep sleep.
‘Worry about what? You’ll have to remind me what we were just talking about, May,’ she asks, her voice fainter than usual. ‘I don’t know why, but my memory’s like a sieve these days.’
May shivers, torn between delight at the rush of sparkly wellbeing from the letter and a painful stab of guilt that she’s depriving Julia of something valuable. It’s unexpectedly rewarding having a friend, and the more she sees Julia, the more she wants to get to know her even better. May can’t understand why she didn’t realise what she was missing by being so independent. Julia’s sense of humour is surfacing now as she begins to really relax in May’s company, and giggling together over some of the crazier letters has been fun. But what if the other woman never gets her memories back? She gives herself a little shake. It doesn’t matter, surely? When Julia has all the letters in her possession again she can dip into the stories of the past any old time. Hopefully this is only a temporary problem.
‘Come on, love, we’ve got work to do,’ she says, reaching for the next envelope.
They rummage through their respective heaps companionably for an hour or so, exchanging the odd comment when something particularly interesting comes to light. Mid-morning, the kitchen door opens and Andy comes in. His expression is grim.
‘Emily’s phoned to say her hire car’s broken down on the way to the airport,’ he says, ‘so I’m going to rescue her.’
‘Oh, no! Is she safe?’ asks Julia. ‘That’s not a good road to break down on. Too many bad bends, and it’s very narrow in places. Have you told her to get out of the car?’
‘Yes, don’t worry. She’s near a pub so they’ve let her go inside to keep dry. She’s on her second coffee already.’
‘That’s a relief. Poor girl,’ says May.
‘The car hire company is coming to fetch it and she’ll get another one later. But she’s worried that she’s meant to be picking up this Max character, and she’s very late now so I said I’d go, and then take her on to fetch him. I’ll phone if there’s anything to report.’
He raises a hand and sets off again, with the air of a man on his way to the gallows.
‘Bother,’ says May. ‘That’s really going to put the cat among the pigeons.’
Julia bites her lip. ‘I know. It’s so annoying. Why did the stupid American man have to turn up and ruin everything?’
May’s picked up another one of the letters again by now and can already feel the tingling sensations back in her fingertips. She sits up straight in her chair, letting the energy flow through her veins. It’s like an instant face-lift, but all over her body. She opens it and begins to skim read. A phrase catches her eye.
I think Will knows more than he’s letting on about the ring.
Julia leans forward to look at her more closely.
‘You look lovely today, May,’ she says. ‘Well, you always do, of course, but there’s something extra …’
May smiles and thanks Julia graciously. She knows her silvery-white hair looks as near perfect as she can make it – the hairdresser came as usual this week and the waves are still smooth and glossy, thanks to a generous coating of hairspray every morning and night. She’s wearing a cherry-red jumper over a tweed skirt – both close-fitting, showing her neat figure. She crosses her legs, displaying shapely ankles. May is proud of the way she looks. She’s always been glad she ‘pays for dressing’, as Charles used to say, but this isn’t anything like the face and body of someone who’s aiming to be a hundred and eleven on her next birthday.
Julia puts her head on one side and observes her friend carefully. ‘You’re one of those people who ages gracefully, I guess.’
‘I suppose I must be. Just lucky, that’s all.’
‘I’ve never known anyone look so good for their age, though.’
May’s keen to carry on reading, but Julia’s still talking. ‘Don loved the way I looked, even up to the day he died. Marriage is a wonderful thing when it works, isn’t it?’
‘If you say so, dear. Julia, this letter from Kathryn. I think it’s important …’
Julia isn’t listening. She reaches into her shopping bag and brings out a package.
‘I nearly d
idn’t bring these over but maybe it’s time to share them. They’re from Don to me, written very early on. We were apart right at the end of the war while I was waiting to be demobbed from the WAAF and he was trying to find us a house here in the village, and then when he was staying with his family in the Midlands, retraining and so on.’
May’s eyes light up and she stretches her hand out, then pulls it back sharply. ‘But these are personal. I don’t think you should give them to me to look at.’
‘It’s fine. Go ahead.’
Nervously, May picks a letter out at random and begins to read, marvelling at the tiny, ultra-neat handwriting; Don used every inch of space to express his longing for his love. The greeting at the top is ‘My own darling,’ and May can visualise the handsome young airman who swept Julia off her feet.
It was so good to see you again at the weekend. I’m sure I didn’t say half of what I meant to. I was tired with work and almost overwhelmed at being with you again.
Julia leans forward. ‘Keep going,’ she says. ‘I want you to know how it was for me and Don. Then you’ll see why I look “fed up” all the time, as you put it. I miss him so much. I’m not just being grumpy.’
‘Have I ever said that? I do understand why you’re grieving. You were loved by your husband, Julia, very much, and you loved him back wholeheartedly. That’s something I have no experience of. None at all.’
May carries on reading, her heart heavy. The buzz from the letters is being eroded by the pain she feels, and the growing regret that when it comes to having had a loving marriage, she’s missed the boat completely.
Chapter Seventeen
Andy knows his driving isn’t up to his own high standard as he heads for the pub where Emily’s waiting. The rain lashes against the windscreen, and even with the wipers going at double speed he can barely see the road ahead. At last, the huge roadside inn comes into view, its car park half full even on a day like this. A waft of chip fat meets Andy’s nostrils as he pushes the door open and he pulls a face. Emily jumps to her feet the minute she spots him.
59 Memory Lane Page 11