59 Memory Lane

by Celia Anderson

  Emily still looks worried. ‘So you said last night, but she’s had a nasty setback with the heart problem. What do you think, Andy?’

  He leans back against the worktop and folds his arms, accidentally providing an demonstration of rippling biceps, if anyone happens to be looking. ‘I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. Might be a good idea to get in touch with Ida to see if there are any more people we can rope in to call on May?’

  ‘I’ll probably see her at the market. Can you think of anybody?’

  ‘There’s always Pam at number eleven. Mind you, May says she smells of roll-ups and gin, and she can’t stand cats. Or we could ask Frank at number forty. I’m surprised he hasn’t already been collared by Ida for the scheme. He likes a game of whist, does Frank. That’d keep May busy while she’s supposed to be taking it easy.’

  Julia sees Emily checking Andy out, in what she must imagine is a subtle way, as he lounges there. Her granddaughter’s eyes rest on his tanned legs, muscular and strong. He’s wearing faded denim shorts and hefty boots. Julia thinks Andy might have noticed Emily observing him, too. Good. He’s looking particularly handsome this morning. His curly brown hair is damp from the shower, as usual. He never has time to wait for it to dry before he leaves the house. He’s newly shaven, though, and his checked shirt is clean, if well worn. The sleeves are rolled up revealing brown forearms. Julia can see why Emily’s interest is piqued. If I were fifty years younger, she tells herself with a smile.

  ‘What’s so funny, Julia?’ Andy asks.

  ‘Oh … erm … I was just remembering how early Emily used to get up when she came to stay.’

  ‘Emily goes on the beach before breakfast,’ says Tamsin. ‘I saw her with my special telescope.’

  ‘Ah, it was you watching me, was it?’ says Emily, and then looks at Andy and blushes.

  He doesn’t miss a trick. ‘You didn’t think I’d been spying on you, did you?’ he asks, frowning.

  ‘No, of course not.’

  There’s an awkward silence, luckily broken by Tamsin asking for some drawing paper. ‘I want to do a picture of our den before we make it. It’s going to be like a hobbit hole. Then I’ll do another one when it’s done. OK?’ she asks Emily.

  ‘Hobbits are very tidy people, you know,’ says Emily. ‘You’d have to keep it nice inside.’

  ‘I’m tidy, aren’t I, Daddy? Sometimes socks get lost on their own, though. Can we grow grass on the roof?’

  As Emily settles their guest at the table and gets out the battle-scarred box of crayons that has been in the dresser since her own childhood, Julia marvels at how quickly her granddaughter has slipped into this role. As far as she knows, Emily’s never had much to do with children, but she’s sitting down with Tamsin now, and their heads are both bent over the paper, one dark and one fair. Andy’s eyes are on them too, but his expression’s unreadable.

  ‘Give me a hug then, sweetheart. I’ll see you about four o’clock,’ he says, leaning down to Tamsin. She jumps up again and wraps herself around him and he lifts her up so he can kiss her.

  ‘How much do you love me?’ she asks.

  ‘This much,’ he says, putting her down and spreading his arms wide.

  ‘I love you more. I love you THIS much.’ Tamsin flings her arms open, narrowly avoiding demolishing a cut-glass vase on a nearby shelf.

  ‘Tam, be careful. I want Julia’s house to be all in one piece when I get back. I’ve got my phone with me, so call if there’s a problem, Julia. Be good, little ’un? Please.’

  He’s not looked at Emily since the comments about the telescope, and Julia sighs. Why are the young so touchy?

  He hesitates by the door. ‘This is very good of you two ladies,’ he says eventually.

  Emily glances up and grins at him. ‘Any excuse for a den-making session,’ she says. ‘We might even have a paddle first, if we’re quick.’

  He smiles back and Julia relaxes. She really will have to knock both their heads together if the pair of them carry on like this.

  An hour later, Emily and Tamsin return from the beach with Tristram in tow.

  ‘Tristram made us a yummy drink in his café,’ says Tamsin happily. ‘I had a fizzy milkshake with sprinkles. Do you know how to burp, Julia? Shall I show you?’

  ‘No, not just now, dear. It sounds as if you’ve had a good time, though.’

  ‘Shall I show you instead, Tristram?’

  ‘Let’s save that treat for another day, shall we, poppet?’

  ‘Burping aside, I had the best cappuccino I’ve ever tasted,’ Emily says. ‘I’m definitely putting The Shack on my list of favourite places to eat. We had some gorgeous almond biscuits, too. Tamsin ate five.’

  ‘They were very little, though. I would’ve had ten if you hadn’t hidden them.’

  ‘You won’t want any lunch,’ says Julia, laughing at Tamsin’s scowl, ‘and it’s going to be posh nosh from the market today.’

  ‘I bet I will.’

  ‘Go and wash your hands ready to go out, sweetheart, while I talk to Tristram,’ says Julia.

  They sit down around the kitchen table and Emily tells Julia that she’s already updated Tristram about May’s sudden illness but that he was calling to see her anyway today.

  ‘She rang me when she got home,’ he says. ‘She said to come as soon as possible. This is the first chance I’ve had. I’ve left the dogs behind because they always want to eat May’s cat.’

  ‘What could have been so urgent?’ Julia wonders.

  ‘Search me.’

  ‘Didn’t she even give you a hint?’

  ‘Nope. I’ll go and find out now – it’ll save you two a trip – then you can pop over later. Oh … ah … Julia, I was wondering if you fancied coming out with me for dinner one night? It’s just that I want to check out the competition, and George gets edgy if I go to Cockleshell Bay on my own.’

  Julia’s face is pink as she nods her agreement. ‘That’d be lovely,’ she says, not looking at Emily.

  Tristram heads across the road, and Emily kicks off her old trainers and finds sandals ready for the walk up the lane. ‘It’s odd, May phoning Tristram, isn’t it?’ she asks. ‘You’d think she’d ask you or me if there was something she needed.’

  Julia doesn’t reply. She has a feeling there’s a lot she doesn’t know about May. Perhaps it’s just as well.

  Tamsin, chattering all the way, walks between Julia and Emily, holding each of them by the hand, as they wander up Memory Lane a little later.

  ‘Please can we have a cake with chocolate icing on it, Aunty Jules?’ she says. ‘May likes chocolate. I can take her a piece later. I don’t like May being poorly. She keeps going to sleep, doesn’t she? Going to sleep’s boring. Do you like going to bed, Em? I don’t.’

  By this time they’re amongst the throng of visitors on The Level. The pub car park is full and cars line the pavement as people of all ages jostle their way to the village green.

  ‘We’ve never had this many here before,’ says Julia, feeling slightly dizzy as they make their way towards the bouncy castle.

  Just as they reach the edge of the green, Julia hears Emily’s name being called, very loudly. Her granddaughter freezes, rooted to the spot.

  ‘Emileeeeee! Wait up, honey, I’m over here.’

  She turns slowly, and Julia sees a look of horror on Emily’s face.

  ‘Hi, babe,’ shouts Max, pushing his way through the crowd towards them. He’s wearing a very loud Hawaiian shirt and baggy shorts. They don’t suit him. Julia watches with plummeting spirits as a large, florid man follows Max. A very smart, excessively thin woman in spiky heels brings up the rear, with two sulky-looking teenage girls.

  ‘I told Ned about this market of yours. He was mad keen to see some traditional village life, weren’t you, dude?’

  Ned nods to Emily, ignores Julia and Tamsin and makes his way to the loaded cheese stall, eyes shining. His family drift off after him.

  ‘So, how the hell have you gi
rls been?’ asks Max, giving them all the benefit of his most charming smile. ‘I’ve missed you, honey.’ He gives Emily a hug and kisses her on both cheeks. ‘Do you like the holiday gear? I borrowed it from Ned.’

  ‘Can I go on the bouncy castle now?’ asks Tamsin, pulling at Emily’s shirt.

  Emily looks down at the eager little face and to Julia’s relief, nods. ‘Of course. That’s what we came for. Have a lovely day, Max. Enjoy the market and try not to patronise the locals.’

  ‘But aren’t you going to show me around?’ asks Max. ‘Grandmama can look after the kid, can’t you?’ he appeals to Julia.

  Julia turns to Emily. ‘Pass me my cardigan,’ she says.

  Max is totally lost now, as Emily starts to laugh.

  ‘Silly, you’re wearing your cardi,’ says Tamsin, joining in.

  ‘She means her fighting cardigan,’ says Emily, between giggles. ‘You’ve really upset her now, Max.’

  ‘Huh?’

  Julia smiles at him serenely. ‘It’s a bit of Olde English family folklore, passed down through the years, dear,’ she explains. ‘Apparently, so they tell me (although I think they’re exaggerating), on a caravan holiday, years ago, Felix was ticked off for making a noise by some rather arrogant campers who’d chosen to pitch up near the play area. He came back in floods of tears and I set off to fight his corner, uttering the immortal lines as I left …’

  ‘PASS ME MY CARDIGAN,’ Julia and Emily chorus, in unison.

  Max still looks puzzled.

  ‘So whenever I got really cross, Don would say those words. It’s good to air them again. Because, Max, you have seriously annoyed me. I suggest you get out of our way, leave my granddaughter alone and find someone else to take advantage of. I pity your poor wife and family.’

  Tamsin’s been listening to all this, wide-eyed. ‘Now can we please go to the bouncy castle?’ she says loudly. ‘I don’t like this man, do you, Em?’

  Emily’s controlled her giggles now, and she looks Max straight in the eye.

  ‘No, I don’t, sweetie – not one bit. Let’s go. Castles to bounce on, cakes to buy and dens to make. See you, Max. Have a nice life.’

  Max’s jaw drops as Emily leads the way to where small children are flinging themselves onto a brightly coloured creation with flags on the top. Julia gives Max a little wave as she goes. My work here is done, she thinks, rather smugly. He had it coming to him.

  The rest of the morning passes peacefully. Max and Ned avoid them, and they buy an enormous crusty loaf and a whole basketful of delicious cakes, pasties, olives and cheeses. Julia even has time to spend a few minutes at Ida’s information station, updating her about May and giving advice to a couple of new recruits for the Adopt-a-Granny scheme. They bump into Cassie with one set of very lively twin boys – the others are still at school – and Emily meets George and Cliff, shopping for unusually flavoured olives for Cockleshell Bay.

  ‘Who’s that lady with the orange fringe?’ asks Tamsin, as they wend their way home for lunch. Julia looks round to see Angelina waving madly from the pub window. She raises a brimming glass to them and mimes ‘chin-chin’, but Julia shakes her head.

  ‘If we go for drinks with Angelina, we won’t be back in time for tea, let alone lunch and den-making,’ she says. ‘But I’d like you to meet her one day, Em. Tristram says he nearly married her once.’

  ‘Well, I hope he’s given up on that idea now,’ says Emily. ‘She looks as if she’s a bit of party animal. He should find someone to keep him company at home, not drag him to the pub and get him legless. Can you think of anyone, Gran?’ She widens her eyes as she looks across at Julia.

  ‘Legless? I don’t want nice Tristram’s legs to drop off,’ says Tamsin. ‘Do you, Em? Hey, Aunty Jules, maybe Tristram needs a girlfriend to stop his legs falling off? I’m Robbie Partridge’s girlfriend, did I tell you that? He asked me to play kiss-chase once but I said no. I wonder if Tristram knows how to play kiss-chase.’

  ‘I think it’s time we got ourselves home,’ says Emily.

  The den building is a great success. The garden looks like a bohemian festival site when they’ve finished. Julia prepares a jug of iced juice and a plate of assorted goodies.

  ‘I’ll take it out to the hobbit hole,’ Emily says, hugging Julia. ‘I’d forgotten how much fun it is making dens and then having picnics in them.’

  After that, all is peaceful. When Julia goes out to look what’s happening, peeping into the entrance of the den complex, she sees the two of them flat out on their backs with cushions under their heads and drowsing happily.

  Emily sits up when she sees Julia, eyes wide. ‘Oh, no, we fell asleep and I was supposed to go and check on Stripey,’ she says, crawling out of the den. ‘Andy left us a key so we could make sure she hadn’t had her kittens.’

  ‘Wait for me!’ Tamsin’s right behind her. ‘I want to see.’

  Julia watches them go across the road hand in hand, and her heart melts. This is just what Emily needs, Julia is sure, and Tamsin’s blossomed this afternoon. She’s lost her slightly anxious look for a little while. If only Emily and Andy weren’t so prickly.

  If Emily and Andy’s friendship’s ever going to get off the ground and be something more, Julia’s going to have to take some serious action to make it happen. She goes inside again, thinking hard.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Tamsin rushes into her house and straight upstairs. ‘Come on, Emily!’ she yells. ‘Stripey likes to be in Daddy’s wardrobe usually.’

  ‘Ssshhh, you’ll scare her.’ Emily follows more slowly, remembering when she was up here before and how uncomfortable she’d felt to be intruding on Andy and Tamsin’s relationship. There are framed photographs hanging all the way up the stairs, of Tamsin at every stage of her development. Emily noticed them last time but didn’t stop to look properly. At the top is one of a very frail-looking woman with dreadlocks tied back in a blue ribbon. She’s cradling a tiny baby in her arms. The baby’s face can’t be seen because it’s wrapped in a filmy woollen shawl but the look on the woman’s face takes Emily’s breath away.

  Love, longing, joy and despair are all mingled together. Is Emily looking at the picture with hindsight and imagining these things? No, it’s there for anyone to see. Allie must have only known her daughter for a short time but there can be no doubt that she was delighted to be a mum. Emily’s heart aches for Allie, and for herself a little, too.

  ‘I can’t find Stripey, Em,’ Tamsin calls. ‘What are we going to do now?’

  Emily goes into Andy’s bedroom, feeling like some sort of Peeping Tom. Tamsin is kneeling by the wardrobe with the door open but there’s no sign of the cat.

  ‘Don’t worry, sometimes mummy cats change their minds about where they want to have their babies,’ Emily says soothingly. ‘We’ll look everywhere. She might even have gone round to see May. You search really carefully up here – check under all the beds and in all the corners and hidey-holes – and I’ll go and search downstairs.’

  Emily retraces her steps, averting her gaze from the picture of Allie and her baby. There’s no sign of Stripey in any of the rooms. It’s a cosy little house, and Emily feels as if she could settle down here quite happily. Stop it, she tells herself, you’ve got a perfectly good flat, and you wouldn’t want to be surrounded by a dead woman’s belongings, even if anything did happen with Andy.

  Tamsin clatters into the kitchen just as Emily’s trying to drag her gaze away from the collage of family photographs above the sink. ‘I still can’t see Stripey anywhere,’ she says, her voice wobbling. ‘What if she’s run away?’

  ‘Let’s go and see May before we panic. Come on, you go first and I’ll lock the door behind us.’

  ‘Do you want to see Daddy’s best picture first? I forgot to get it to show you. I’ll go back.’

  ‘But …’

  Emily hears Tamsin bounding up the stairs again, singing as she goes. She’s back in less than a minute, clutching an ornate, jewelled fr
ame. The picture in it hurts Emily’s heart even more than the one of Allie and her baby. This is Andy’s wife on what must be their wedding day. Her hair is long and loose, backlit by the sunshine, and her smile is terrifyingly happy, with no shadow of what’s to come. She’s already pregnant, and one hand rests protectively on her rounded stomach.

  ‘Me and Daddy kiss my mummy every night before he puts me to bed,’ says Tamsin, sending another stiletto of pain right into Emily’s soul. ‘He says he likes her to watch him when he goes to sleep, that’s why she lives by his bed. I’d better put her back.’

  Emily wraps her arms around herself as Tamsin returns the precious photograph to its home, suddenly cold. May said that Emily might not be ready for Andy yet, but this proves Andy is in no way ready for any woman to take Allie’s place. The thought is deeply depressing. She takes one last look around the bright, sunshiny kitchen, thinking of Allie in there, bustling around and preparing for her baby to be born, full of plans for the future. By the time Emily’s pulled herself together and reached May’s back door, Tamsin’s inside.

  May is in her favourite chair with Fossil on her knee. She’s dozing, chin on her chest, and looks up with a start as Tamsin leans against her knee and wraps her arms around May’s middle. Emily’s startled to see that the old lady looks even more delicate than she did this morning, her cheeks slightly sunken and her hands on the rug more blue-veined than usual.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ she asks. ‘Are you ready for a cuppa? We’re looking for the mum-to-be. Is Stripey here, by any chance?’

  ‘Yes and yes,’ says May, smiling. ‘A cup of tea is just what my heart desires. And your cat has made a nest under the table on some old newspapers. I must have nodded off. I heard her come in through the cat flap but I haven’t looked at her lately.’

  Tamsin drops to her knees and crawls under the table. ‘Emily,’ she breathes, ‘Stripey’s got her babies. They must have fallen out of her bottom while we were making our den. They’re here!’

  Emily joins Tamsin on the floor. Sure enough, there is the happy little cat, purring proudly, and curled up next to her are three tiny kittens, two tabby and one black. As they watch, the biggest one wriggles blindly towards its mother and begins to suck enthusiastically. The black one stirs too and does the same.