by Vivien Brown
‘Oh, how lovely to see you both,’ she said, beckoning them in. ‘Business is quiet today and I was just about to put the kettle on. Do come and join me. I could do with the company.’
‘We’ll have to carry on our little chat later, Madi,’ Faith muttered under her breath, as they followed Patty into the shop. ‘Patty can be terribly nosey.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Nothing, Patty dear. A cup of tea will be just the job. Do you have any bikkies?’
Patty turned and gave her friend a look of sheer disdain. ‘Faith Harris, this is a grocery shop. We have biscuits galore, in any flavour you care to mention. But we’ll let Madi choose, shall we?’
‘Oh, you two have met then, have you?’ Faith said, looking a little peeved.
‘We have. Now, come through to the back and I’ll pop the Closed sign up for half an hour. The customers can always rap on the glass if it’s important.’
The back room was small but cosy, with two shabby armchairs, which Patty insisted her visitors sit on while she took the wooden chair at a desk piled high with papers. She reached up and took three cups and a large brown teapot down from a cupboard above the sink in the corner and put the kettle on to boil.
‘So, how are you enjoying life in our little village?’ she said, turning her attention to Madi.
‘It’s lovely. So peaceful. Charming, in fact.’
‘Well, that’s nice to hear. Charming … I like that. Are you planning on staying long?’
Madi heard Faith sigh beside her. ‘Just a few weeks. I shall be off back to London when Prue returns.’
‘Ah, yes, Prue … Poor soul. How that Joe could humiliate her like that, and in public too, I just don’t know. Idiot man doesn’t know a good thing when he sees it.’
‘Patty!’ Faith leant forward in her chair and put a restraining hand on Patty’s arm. ‘Madi doesn’t need to know about all that. And it’s my Prue’s business, not ours.’
‘It’s hardly something you can expect to keep a secret, dear. Not when half the village witnessed it. It’s leap year, you see, Madi, and there are, of course, certain age-old traditions attached. Come the 29th of Feb, in the middle of a busy Saturday night in the local pub, young Prue got it into her head to propose, with absolutely no guarantee, or even the teeniest hint, that the young man in question would say yes. Took a bit of a leap of faith, or more like a leap in the dark, if you’ll excuse the terrible puns, seeing as we’re talking leap year here, but unfortunately landed flat on her face.’
‘Ah, I see.’ Madi could feel the tension stretching out between her two companions, and thought it might be time to steer the talk in another direction. ‘It’s a shame it didn’t go well, but as Faith says, it’s not really anyone’s business but theirs, is it? Now, what was it you said about biscuits, Patty? I must admit I have a fondness for a nice custard cream.’
Patty got to her feet. ‘I’ll go and see if we have any. Won’t be a tick.’
As soon as she had disappeared behind the beaded curtain that separated them from the shop, Faith shook her head and whispered, ‘It would never have worked out anyway. I’m glad he turned her down. She can do so much better. I’m sorry it seems to have upset her so much, though she’ll get over it soon enough. Hurt pride, I think, more than anything. Do you know where it is she’s gone? I know you said you didn’t but …’
‘No. I’m sorry. Why don’t you just phone her? I’m sure if she wants to speak to you, she will.’
Faith sat back in her chair, frowning. ‘Don’t you think I’ve tried?’ she said, just as Patty arrived back, brandishing an extra-large pack of custard creams, and poured the tea.
‘Do you remember,’ Patty said, beaming at Madi and clearly unaware of what she had walked back into, ‘when we last met I told you I thought I knew you from somewhere?’
‘Aha!’ said Faith, eager to take over the conversation again. ‘There we are, Madi. Patty recognises you. You have a fan!’
‘A fan?’ Patty looked bemused. ‘I only meant that I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Madi in the big supermarket in town. Do you work there, dear? On the tills, or one of the counters?’
Faith laughed. ‘I hardly think so, Patty. Madi doesn’t spend her days slicing bacon in Tesco’s. She’s an actress. She’s done Shakespeare, you know.’
‘Oh, really? I’ve never seen any Shakespeare. But now you come to mention it, you could be right, Faith. That could well be where I’ve seen her. In something.’
Madi took a sip from her tea and watched them discussing her as if they’d forgotten she was even in the room.
‘I know!’ Patty squealed, almost sloshing her tea into her lap. ‘It was that soap opera on the telly a few years ago. Now, what was it called? The one set in a coffee shop by the sea. It was only on a few weeks and they stopped showing it. You were a bit chubbier then, weren’t you, dear? And your hair was a different colour, but I’m sure it was you.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Patty,’ Faith butted in. ‘Madi does plays. Proper plays, on the stage. She wasn’t in any soap.’
‘Actually, I was.’
Four eyes swivelled her way.
‘Oh, how thrilling. A real TV star in our midst.’ Patty piled the biscuits onto a flowery plate and held it out towards Madi, her hand shaking with excitement. ‘Please, take two. Oh, isn’t that what they say when they’re filming? With one of those little clapperboard things. Lights, camera, action. Take two!’
They all laughed.
‘Oh, do let me do your hair while you’re here, Madi. I can put a sign above the door then. Hairdresser to the stars. Like having a royal warrant! I could do you a nice perm or add a few highlights. It’s looking a bit dull, if you don’t mind me saying. In fact, let me take a look at it now.’
Before Madi could stop her, Patty stood up and whipped the scarf from her head. ‘Oh,’ she said, the dismay obvious in her voice, as she knocked the wig a little too vigorously and it tilted off centre. ‘It’s not your own.’
There was a stunned silence as Madi adjusted her headwear and tried not to cry.
‘Oh, Patty, we all know that actresses wear wigs, don’t we?’ Faith said, coming quickly to her rescue. ‘Stage names, make-up, costumes. Why not wigs? All part of the mystery, eh? I bet these superstars hardly ever go out as themselves. Helps protect them from being recognised and pestered.’ She chuckled. ‘Autographs another time, eh? Now, come on, Madi, let’s be on our way before it gets dark.’
‘Thank you,’ Madi said, as the two of them made their escape and turned back towards home, their planned walk forgotten.
‘No problem. Is it cancer?’
Madi nodded. ‘Breast.’
‘My father had it. Cancer, that is. His was in the lungs. Smoked all his life, so not surprising really. This was nearly ten years ago, and treatments probably weren’t as good as they are nowadays. He went quickly though. Didn’t suffer too long. Yours?’
‘I had surgery, lost a breast, then chemo. The cancer’s all gone though, or they hope so anyway.’
‘That’s good. Losing a breast must be hard, but at our age you have to wonder why we still need them.’ She shrugged, then put a hand on Madi’s arm and patted it. ‘At least you’re still alive, and that’s what counts, eh? To me … well, I often think losing your hair must be the most upsetting part. Not a problem for my old dad as he was bald as a badger anyway, but it’s different for us girls, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. It is.’
‘In your line of work, too. It will grow back though, good as ever. Don’t let it get you down, not now you’re over the worst of it all. Still, I feel for you. It must have been tough … and I won’t be gossiping about you, rest assured.’
‘Thank you.’
They had reached Madi’s gate.
‘See you again soon, I hope. The offer’s still open, for tea at mine. I can’t promise custard creams, but I do make a mean Victoria sponge.’ Faith took a pen from her handbag and scribbled something on a tiny scrap
of paper, which she tore off the corner of a used envelope. ‘My number,’ she said, hovering long enough to make it obvious she expected to receive Madi’s number in return. As soon as Madi had, reluctantly, supplied it and Faith had written it down, Faith gave a little wave over her shoulder and wandered away, leaving Madi alone on the path. ‘Just let me know when you’re coming, and I’ll have that sponge rustled up and in the oven toot sweet!’
Madi slid the scrap of paper into her pocket, the edge of her scarf slipping out as she withdrew her hand. It hadn’t seemed worth the charade of tying it on again, now that the cat was out of the bag. She didn’t believe for a minute that her health, or her dubious celebrity status as an ex-soap actress, would remain secret for long. But did it really matter? She was who she was, wig and all, and if people couldn’t deal with that they probably weren’t worth knowing.
Chapter 9
PRUE
For the second time in a week, Aaron was coming in just as Prue was going out, Madi’s letters in her hand, her own address in Shelling now written across the front, ready to post on to her. This time she held the door for him and they stopped for a few moments to chat.
‘We seem to be making a habit of this,’ he joked.
‘Ships that pass in the night.’
‘I don’t know about that.’ He looked at the time on his phone, which was wired direct to his ears as usual, and switched off whatever it was he had been listening to. ‘It’s quarter past nine in the morning.’
‘Just an expression. So, what gets you up and about so early?’
‘Early?’ He laughed. ‘I’ve been up and about for hours. This is bedtime for me. I work nights at a supermarket. You know, stacking shelves, sweeping up, all the things that have to go on before the shop opens up again in the mornings. I finish at eight, stop for a bit of brekkie, then get the train home. You?’
‘Oh, I’m on a month’s leave. Free as a bird, just looking forward to exploring. No plans, just wanting to get out early and make the most of the day. I work for a newspaper when I’m at home. Just a little local one, but it keeps me busy. I’m a photographer.’
‘Cool.’
‘Well, I won’t keep you from your sleep. At least I’ll be out most of the day so you won’t have me stamping about making noise through your ceiling.’
‘Wouldn’t bother me if you did. There’s always noise in a place like this. Traffic and stuff. But I can sleep pretty much anywhere, and earplugs are a wonderful thing.’
She watched him lope up the stairs, his long skinny legs taking them two at a time, then she stepped outside and closed the front door behind her.
Despite the building being split into nine flats, Aaron was still the only other resident she had spoken to. She could only assume that everyone else either kept themselves to themselves or went out to work, probably long gone by the time she surfaced each day, and not back until after she’d settled herself back in for the evening. Perhaps it would be different at the weekend.
She spent a pleasant Friday morning wandering around the Science Museum, particularly enjoying the photography exhibits. She tried to imagine how hard her job would be if she had to lug those huge old-fashioned cameras around the countryside now, fiddling about with boxes and curtains and plates, or putting reels of film into the camera and taking them out again in the dark, mixing up chemicals and waiting for hours before she got to see the results of her labours. She had loved developing her own photos when, as a kid, she’d first started experimenting and learning, and the little shed in Gran and Granddad’s cottage garden had provided the perfect darkroom in which to do it – so much more fun than taking the film to be developed at the chemists’ – but she rarely used it nowadays. The arrival of digital photography and all the amazing software that enabled her to crop and filter and enhance her pictures had changed things beyond all recognition, even in the few years since she had first shown a flair for her craft.
The Natural History Museum was just around the corner so, after a sandwich and an ice-cream eaten out on the grass, she went inside and lost herself in the magical world of stuffed animals and dinosaur bones and the internal workings of the human body for a few hours, before buying herself a souvenir wooden pen, and a silly T-Rex T-shirt she had picked up on an impulse and would probably only ever wear to sleep in, and heading back towards the tube.
Cooking for one was never a particularly appealing prospect so she stopped at the takeaway place along the road from the flat and treated herself to a kebab and a can of Diet Coke, hurrying back before the food had a chance to go cold.
Much as she had wanted some time alone, it occurred to her as she munched her way through the greasy slices of lamb and mound of shredded lettuce that she was starting to feel a bit lonely. If not for Aaron and a few random strangers she’d spoken to briefly when she was being served in various shops, she really hadn’t had any kind of interaction with anyone since she’d left Norfolk and the thought of going out at night in the city by herself was still too scary to contemplate.
She picked up her phone and switched it on. It still had a couple of bars of power before she needed to recharge it. She had told herself she would only use it at bedtimes, and even then only for emergencies and to check for important messages, but now she’d eaten and, with nothing to do but read or watch TV before going to sleep, she could do with hearing a friendly voice. Before she could change her mind, she ran through her most recent contacts and pressed Sian’s number.
‘Prue!’ Sian’s voice squealed down the line with excitement.
‘Yep, it’s me.’
‘I thought you’d disappeared off the face of the earth! Your mum’s been pestering me day and night to tell her where you are. Not that I have any idea. She’s even been badgering the lady staying at yours. Who seems very nice, by the way.’
‘Does she? I’m glad.’
‘Does she? You mean you don’t know? Prue, she has the run of your cottage. I thought she must be a friend or something.’
‘Nope. Never met her in my life.’
‘Now I am curious. I must say, I did wonder how you might know someone like her. Not that she isn’t lovely, because she is, apparently, or so Mum tells me. I thought maybe you’d met her through work, taken her picture or something. She’s not … well, not like us, is she?’
‘Isn’t she?’
‘Oh, stop it. You know what I mean. She’s kind of … poised, I suppose is the word for her. Posh, even. An actress, so I hear. And she must be at least sixty.’
‘She’s just looking after the cottage for me, Sian. It’s an arrangement that works for both of us. We don’t have to be bosom buddies.’
‘Well, according to Mum, this friend of yours – or not, as the case may be – has had breast cancer. Like, recently, I mean. Mum reckons that’s why she’s here, getting over it.’
‘Ah, that explains a lot, I suppose.’
‘Does it? If you say so. So, go on, tell me then. Where are you? And who are you with? I know you haven’t eloped with Joe because I saw him just yesterday. Looking even more grumpy than usual, I might add.’
Prue swallowed hard. ‘How is he?’
‘To be honest, I didn’t stop to ask. Stupid man. How could he treat you like that? You’re meant to be his girlfriend. Okay, so maybe he’s not ready to get married yet …’
‘If ever.’
‘Well, yes, you could be right, but he still could have been a bit kinder with his answer. Asked for time to think about it or something …’
‘He obviously didn’t need time to think about it. He doesn’t want to get married. Or not to me anyway.’
‘His loss, babe. Rest assured, I shall make it clear just what I think about him at every opportunity.’
‘And how long can you keep that up, what with him being practically family? You know, I quite liked the idea of us marrying brothers, becoming sisters-in-law. I think I got a bit carried away with the old “gang of four” thing, but that’s not a good enough reason to
do it, is it?’
‘Probably not. Nice idea though. We could have had matching dresses and bouquets and had babies on the same day and everything. But what’s done is done, and I’m not going to say any more about it, except that if he doesn’t love you, he should have just said so and let you go long before now. He’s been keeping you dangling on a string for way too long. Years! Just makes me even more glad I was lucky enough to get the nice brother … who’s just come into the room and says hello, by the way. Now, tell me all. Where are you staying, and how long for?’ She giggled down the line. ‘And if it’s somewhere brill, can I come and stay too?’
Prue gave her friend a quick rundown of the flat, the area, how she’d agreed to swap homes with Madi, and her plans to chill out for a few more weeks and take lots of fantastic photos.
‘And your mum? Can I tell her any of this? You know I’m bloody hopeless at keeping secrets. She’ll see through me in a heartbeat if I try to lie to her.’
‘I’ll tell her myself if that makes it easier. Just the basics, mind. Not the actual address. I really do need to put a bit of space between me and Shelling at the moment. I need some time to think, and her turning up would ruin all that.’
‘To think about what?’
‘Oh, you know. Life, the universe and everything. Where I really want to be, what I really want to do. If I don’t have Joe tying me to the village, I can start looking at my own future now, instead of a joint one, can’t I? The world’s a big place, and I can’t see myself taking photos for the Gazette for ever.’
‘I’ve always said your talent is wasted there. Not that I want you to leave. The village wouldn’t be the same without you.’
‘Living just up the lane from Joe? Trying to just be friends? Watching him take up with someone else, as he’s bound to eventually? I might even get asked to photograph his wedding one day. It’ll be hard. Well, weird anyway.’