59 Memory Lane

by Celia Anderson

  ‘Did you come over for anything in particular or are you just one of Emily’s policemen, keeping an eye on the elderly and infirm of the parish?’

  He laughs. ‘She can be pretty fierce when it comes to you, can’t she? That’s love for you, though. You’re very precious.’

  ‘Hmm. Anyway, how did last night go?

  ‘On a scale of one to ten? I’d say minus two. Take a potentially relaxing evening, add a vomiting child and what’ve you got? An extra load of washing and a guest who legs it at the first sign of sick.’

  ‘Emily just didn’t want to step on your toes, I expect. She seemed to think you wanted to sort things out yourself.’

  ‘I handled it all wrong. I just didn’t want to look as if I couldn’t cope, and Tamsin’s no good at night if she gets too excited about visitors. I was fed up because we were … anyway, I’d better apologise.’

  ‘There’s no harm done, love. You can always ask her to come over again.’

  ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘Worth a try.’

  ‘OK. Anyway, I have something else to ask you. May’s been reading more of the letters. She rang me this morning to see if I was coming to see you because she wants to find out more about some argument or other that keeps being hinted at in the later ones.’

  ‘But why phone you? Couldn’t she have asked me herself? I’ve only just spoken to her, actually. She didn’t mention the row.’

  ‘I think Emily’s been talking to May about how worried she is about your health. May was afraid of bothering you when you were feeling under the weather.’

  ‘But there’s nothing wrong with me.’

  Andy looks hard at Julia. She pulls a face. ‘Well, yes, I have been feeling a bit shaky … and I can’t always seem to quite remember things I’ve only just done … but it’s probably nothing. Go on then, tell me what May wants to know.’

  Julia listens to Andy’s deep voice bringing up that old family feud with a heavy heart. She shudders at the memory of all the fuss it caused at the time. She wanted to bang all their heads together.

  ‘… and so I thought there must be some other letters stashed away somewhere, with more details about it. May says they come to a sudden halt and then jump forward many years.’

  ‘Why do you want to bother with all that? It was a stupid waste of time and energy, and it upset Don terribly.’

  ‘I’m just being nosy, I guess. It’s just the idea of a family at odds with each other that fascinates me. My parents and my sister have always been really boring. They never argue. They don’t even bicker.’

  ‘But you hardly ever see them since they moved up to Yorkshire. They could be fighting away like crazy and you’d never know.’

  ‘Nah, they’re much too easy-going to do anything like that. Lovely, but set in their ways. I was just thinking that if this book based on the letters ever gets written, a nice meaty feud might make a good focus.’

  Julia thinks for a minute and then gets up, holding onto the arm of the garden bench to steady herself. She’s still not feeling right after the experience with May. It’s shaken her even more than she realised at the time.

  ‘There’s one place I haven’t looked,’ she says, ‘and I’ve only just remembered about it. There’s a drawer in the bottom of the wardrobe that’s still full of old bank statements from way back and receipts for just about everything we ever bought. I suppose Don might have put any missing letters there. But it could be that we just haven’t found that batch yet. Perhaps they’re mixed up with all the others.’

  ‘Were there many letters about the feud then?’

  ‘Yes, the two girls wrote to him for weeks, wanting Don to pull a magic solution to the problem out of his hat somehow. Will had taken himself off to Ireland by that time, so he was safely out of the firing line. I told Don to burn those letters. He read and reread them until they made him half crazy.’

  ‘But what was the big problem?’

  ‘Let me go and see if I can find the missing ones and then I’ll explain. I’m sure they’re not with the rest or I’d have found them by now. I won’t be long.’

  ‘OK, I’ll just go and check Tam’s still asleep and then be right back.’

  Julia returns to the living room just as Andy comes in again. His eyes light up when he sees the large brown envelope in her hand. ‘They were at the very back of the drawer,’ she says. ‘I reckon they’re all here in this packet. And there’s something else here, too.’

  She pushes her hand into the envelope and brings out a small leather box. ‘Oh, heavens! Andy, it’s the ring … it must be.’ Julia fumbles with the catch so much that she drops the box on the floor, and Andy picks it up, flicking it open for her. A wave of disappointment crashes over her. The box is empty. There’s just a ridge where a ring must have once sat, nestled in red velvet.

  Julia drops the box back into the envelope in disgust. ‘You can give these to May,’ she says, ‘and tell her I don’t want to read them.’

  ‘But what was it all about? Can’t you just give me an idea?’

  She folds her hands in her lap and sighs. ‘Very well, if you insist. It was when their mother died that everything got nasty. Will was in Ireland at the time, pretty much incommunicado, busy being holy in the depths of the countryside. Don had managed to get home to see the old lady just before she passed away, but it wasn’t until the will was read that the trouble started.’

  ‘Why? What was the problem?’

  ‘Well, it seemed that their mother had been so disgusted with all the arguments about the ring that she left everything she owned to a cousin in Scotland, who’d always kept in touch by mail but was something of a recluse. The only thing mentioned separately was the opal ring itself. She’d stated that if it was ever found, it was to come to me.’

  ‘Wow! Toxic stuff.’

  ‘Yes, indeed. The sisters were livid. They tried to make the cousin refuse to accept the legacy but human nature being what it is, the man said the money was his, fair and square. They had to sell the family home, which left Elsie without a roof over her head and Kathryn with a huge chip on her shoulder because she’d hoped to buy a house with her new husband instead of renting a rather rundown flat with a view of the pipeworks.’

  ‘Hmm. So how did that affect Don? Was he angry about not getting a share? And Will?’

  Julia smiles. ‘Don wasn’t in the least bothered for himself. He’d have liked me to have a bit of spare cash, but otherwise he wanted them all to shut up and move on. Will was less forgiving but he couldn’t really make a fuss in his situation. He already had a home and a housekeeper that came with the job, and very few expenses.’

  ‘What happened next?’

  ‘Oh, they contested the will but there was nothing they could do. We didn’t see the sisters for a couple of years. They never really got back on speaking terms with each other and they eventually started coming down here at different times. All very sad and awkward.’

  She picks up the box again. ‘But you do see what this means, don’t you? If this is its box, the ring must have been here too, at some point.’

  ‘True.’ Andy takes the package from Julia as the back door opens. ‘Emily’s here,’ he says, jumping up.

  ‘Don’t you go sneaking out the front. Stay and talk to her,’ says Julia. ‘I’m going to make a salad.’

  She passes Emily in the doorway and sees her granddaughter’s shoulders set as she notices Andy. Leave them to it, she says to herself, let them sort themselves out. They’re grown-ups, for goodness’ sake. Although to be fair, that theory hadn’t worked with the sisters and Will.

  Half listening to the mumble of voices, she sets about getting tea ready and hopes Emily is more flexible and open to apologies than her father, Felix. Julia’s only son is the most unforgiving person you could imagine. Julia just hopes he stays out of the way until she can get Emily settled with Andy and Tamsin once and for all. She’s got a feeling her social-climbing son would prefer the successful charm
er Max rather than a jobbing gardener with a child in tow for his daughter.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The little house is cosy when May’s finished switching on table lamps and drawing the curtains. It’s early yet, but tonight she’s in the mood to be alone and undisturbed because Andy’s dropped off the new packet of letters for her to read, with promises to come back as soon as he can to go through them with her. He’s also shown her the ring box and told her how terribly sad Julia was to be so close to finding the opals and then to discover the ring was still missing.

  Before she opens the bulging envelope, May pulls another letter from the small parcel entrusted to her by Julia. They are full of information about Don’s preparations for Julia to come and be with him in Cornwall now they’re safely married so they’re not too dangerous to read, but every now and again, Don’s desperate yearning for his young wife overwhelms him and May has to stop and catch her breath. How wonderful to be consumed with love like that. Regret for all she’s never experienced floods her mind, combined with heady echoes of long-ago passion.

  May is fearful now. As long as she can remember she’s been able to control the effects of the treasures she’s used to get her fix of memories but everything’s changing and she doesn’t know why. It’s as if the break when she wasn’t able to recharge her batteries at all has made her greedy and out of control. Even more terrifying is the thought that the new feelings might just be because she’s getting older. Her father never had the chance to test the long-term effects of memory harvesting, and neither did her grandmother. Their premature deaths give no guidelines. May has nobody to reassure her about what might come next. Increasing forgetfulness? Bones riddled with arthritis? The future looms, making her painfully aware of her own mortality.

  It’s easy to sense when she’s at risk of overdosing on the letters, but May can’t seem to stop herself. She needs more and more memories all the time but how is this going to impact on Julia? If the other woman becomes weaker and weaker as May’s energy grows, how can May justify the sacrifice of her new friend’s health? Why should May’s welfare come before Julia’s? Round and round her thoughts go, with her conscience pricking more painfully each time she considers Julia’s future happiness, or lack of it.

  The more she thinks about the effects of her memory harvesting on Julia, the worse she feels. Whatever happened in the past to make Julia so resentful (and May hasn’t given up on finding out about that business with Charles, oh no), the fact is that their friendship is now more important to May than she can explain. Although she was gregarious as a child and then a young woman growing up in the village, her years of solitary travels have made her self-sufficient. She can keep her own counsel – she’s had to, on more than one occasion. Friends have been less and less necessary. But now, the thought of Julia’s bewilderment at losing her sharp grasp of everything is disturbing.

  Unfolding the delicate paper from long ago, May takes a few seconds to breathe deeply and stabilise. She makes a huge effort to steady herself and begins to read.

  Darling – today being my rest day, I’ve been over from Falmouth to see Mrs Peters and have fixed everything up for us. To make sure you get the following instructions, I’m going to send the letter by express post. Send me a telegram in reply please to the above address.

  So far, so good. The memories flowing in make her heart beat faster but they’re not damaging, just full of pent-up excitement. She carries on.

  It’s an eleven-roomed house and all the rooms I think can be classed as outsized. You’ll fall in love with it, I’m sure, as I did straight away. We’re to have our own sitting room and bedroom and the use of the dining room and kitchen and the ‘usual offices’ for thirty shillings per week. The bedroom is massive and even the bathroom is twice the size of ours at home, and there’s a nice big garden and a grand view from our bedroom window. The bedroom will swallow our big carpet (I’m going to send for it). Unfortunately, the cooking is done on an oil stove.

  Will you come either Friday or Saturday to please yourself best, darling? I can’t wait to see those opals on your finger. I’ve waited a long time to see that ring where it belongs. Mother’s happy for you to have it. I just need to find out where the girls have put it for safety. They’re all being rather vague about the whole thing. Surely they can’t have lost it?

  This is fine. May’s back in control. There’s no reason to open the brown parcel from Andy tonight. She’s brimming with memories and she needs to sit back and let them ebb from fizzing ecstasy to a warm glow.

  She goes into the kitchen and makes a milky drink to take her mind off the other letters but there’s no escape from the lure of the envelope. As far back as she can remember there has never been an object that has had the power to appeal to May at this distance. She tries going outside into the garden to get further away from it but the urge to touch the packet is just as fierce. She can almost hear its siren call and her heart is beating much too quickly in response.

  Taking a deep breath, May comes back inside and begins to assemble a snack to distract herself, eventually flopping down in her chair in the living room. As she sips her cocoa, she ponders again what on earth could be in these particular letters to have such an extreme effect on her mind and body.

  When she’s eaten three crackers with some cheese and a pickled onion and tidied the kitchen, May finally gives in. It’s no good, she can’t resist whatever is inside that envelope. Returning to her favourite chair, she settles down with the package on her lap. Even through the thick paper she can tell she shouldn’t be doing this. The vibrations from the old memories are dangerous in their intensity. Put it down, May, she tells herself firmly. But the temptation is too strong. Cursing her own weakness, she lifts the flap and draws out the letters.

  Most of them are blue, written on Basildon Bond paper. The writing is similar on them all, but even at a glance, May can tell that the same person hasn’t written these.

  The first one is a single sheet. May’s head begins to spin as she reads the opening paragraph.

  I know the others will have written to you, but I want you to read this carefully, Don. The family is in turmoil. There’s so much hate. I never thought we’d come to this, after all we’ve been to each other. The lies that have been told, and the bitterness and venom – you wouldn’t believe it.

  The other thing you need to know is something Will told me over the phone when we were talking about the will. It was about when that nasty little man Charles drowned. He hinted all wasn’t as it seemed and that on the night he was lost at sea, Charles seemed really odd and unsteady. It’s bothered Will ever since, he says. I think he panicked and just ran for home. I’ll tell you more next time. I must go now, my head’s pounding …

  Horror engulfs May as she stares at the next letter in the stack. Is this it? Her nemesis at last? She doesn’t even have time to open it before a crashing wave of emotion engulfs her. May clutches at her chest, trying to let the envelopes slide to the floor and out of her reach, but her other hand just won’t seem to let go. Her knuckles whiten as she gasps for breath. Bitterness and anger from the past surge through her body and, helpless to resist, she falls forward.

  Now May is swaying alarmingly, waves of nausea coming one after the other. She plummets forwards and her head hits the edge of the coffee table. Her eyes roll upwards as she slumps onto the carpet, face down in the swirling turquoise and gold patterns of the Wilton. The last thing she hears is the clock striking ten. Bed time. May closes her eyes and lets the pain take over.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Andy is itching to get back to May’s to have a look at the new letters but Tamsin can’t go to her dancing class tonight because of the sickness ban, so he has to content himself with calling May to see if there’s anything interesting to report. The phone rings for ages with no answer. Maybe she’s gone to bed early? No, that’s not likely, especially when she’s got something to do that keeps her interested.

  ‘Who are you ri
nging, Daddy? Is it Aunty Julia?’ Tamsin says, looking up from her colouring book. She’s got a streak of blue felt-tip pen down one cheek and her hair bobble has come out.

  ‘No, I was just wondering how May is,’ he replies, frowning.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, erm … no reason really.’

  He peers out of the side window. There’s a light on in the kitchen. The second call brings no reply either.

  ‘Tam, I just need to go round to May’s very quickly to check she’s OK. I’ll be back so fast you won’t even know I’ve gone,’ he says.

  ‘I can’t stay here on my own. It’s not allowed. You said so. You said—’

  ‘Yes, I know I did, but this is only for a minute. She’s not answering her phone.’

  ‘Oh. Maybe she did a sick like me?’

  ‘Maybe. So will you be all right just while I go and check?’

  She thinks for a moment. ‘No.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Why don’t I come too?’

  Andy ponders this as his anxiety levels rise. May’s most likely in the shower or something. But if she’s not … if something’s wrong …

  ‘I’ll be super-quick,’ he says, ignoring Tamsin’s wail. ‘Just stay here, OK?’

  As he goes across the short gap between the houses he looks back to see Tamsin’s small pointed face, her eyes wide. He waves to her and she waves back but she’s not smiling.

  ‘I’ll be as fast as … as Buster when he smells chicken, sweetheart,’ he shouts, giving her a thumbs up signal. She turns her head away in disgust. The perpetual worry of all this child nurturing being solely down to Andy threatens to swamp him, and a wave of unreasonable anger at Allie for leaving them makes him breathless as he enters May’s kitchen, shouting her name as he comes in. There’s no answer and very soon Andy sees why.