by Vivien Brown
‘It’s not snobbish to know what you’re good at, to know your own worth. I just wish you’d remember that when it comes to your photography.’
‘I’ve been thinking about that, as it happens. About taking it further.’
‘About bloody time!’
It wasn’t often Prue heard her mother swear. ‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ she said. ‘But for now I’m off to see Flo, and then to call on Madi.’
‘If she’s not in, try Tom’s place.’
‘Stop it, Mum. It’s not our business.’
‘No, you’re right. I’ll say no more about it. Are you sure I can’t tempt you to try the cake? You haven’t eaten properly for hours.’
‘I had some crisps and a lump of cheese when I got in last night.’
‘Oh, that was you, was it? When I saw the crumbs all over the worktop I thought we’d had mice in the night!’
‘We’d best hope Flo recovers quickly then, so she can come and chase them away. But, go on then. I’ll have your last slice of carrot cake, and another cuppa before I go.’
It felt strange knocking on her own front door, but it would not have seemed quite right to use her key. For the time being, she had to regard this as Madi’s home, not hers. And she should really move her car off the drive too, maybe start it up to make sure it hadn’t given up the ghost, having been abandoned for so long. She hadn’t given a thought to Madi’s parking arrangements, not having been sure whether she would have come down by car or on the train, but that had to be Madi’s little blue car parked in the road. She’d drive her own down to her parents’ when she left here, and perhaps run the hose over it to shake off the mud and dust.
As she waited on the step, she couldn’t help noticing the last of the tulips bent over in the front garden, and the long-dead remains of the daffodils in the tubs. The grass was slowly coming back to life after a dry winter spell, and would soon be in need of its first cut of the season. It might only be small, but she had missed her own garden, both front and back. Perhaps that was why she had been so instantly aware of the lack of one at the flats. Or one pleasant enough to relax in, anyway. There really was nothing quite like fresh air and flowers, and the tranquillity of dozing peacefully in a chair under a tree.
The woman who opened the door was nothing like she had imagined her. She was shorter than Prue, and a good forty years older, but the flamboyant theatricality she had expected was nowhere in evidence. She looked ordinary somehow, in her loose shirt and jeans, her face make-up free and her feet bare.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi. You must be Madi.’
‘I am, and you are …’
‘Oh, sorry, I’m Prue.’
‘Prue? As in Prue who lives here?’
Prue nodded. ‘Yep, that’s me. I’m so sorry to drop in out of the blue like this, but …’
‘But you’re back in the village … and you want your house back?’ Madi looked suddenly crestfallen.
‘Oh, God, no. We had a deal. It’s just that …’
‘Flo!’ Madi’s hand came up and cupped her mouth. ‘How silly of me. You’re back for Flo. Of course, you are. Look, come on in, please. Not that you need me to invite you into your own home, but we do need to talk, don’t we?’
Prue followed Madi into the lounge. Apart from a cardigan draped over a chair and a box of chocolates open on the rug, nothing looked any different. But then, why should it? Madi didn’t look the type to hold wild parties and trash the place.
‘About Flo. I am so sorry. I was supposed to be looking after her, and I feel absolutely terrible about what happened. Tell me, is she okay this morning? Has there been any change? I didn’t like to go down to the surgery hassling them, when I know how busy they must be. Especially when it was me in the car …’
‘She’s as well as anyone can expect. Better than that, in fact.’
‘I’m glad. You don’t know what a relief it is to hear that. I thought we’d killed her, I honestly did.’ Madi wiped a tear from her cheek. ‘Now, Prue, can I get you anything? A coffee? A biscuit?’ They walked through to the kitchen. ‘I’m not much of a cook, so I can’t offer you anything more substantial, I’m afraid.’
‘Coffee would be good, and Mum’s already fed me up, thanks.’ Prue shivered, looking back through the open doorway into the lounge. ‘You haven’t lit the fire, I see.’
‘Never could quite get the hang of it. And the weather’s on the up now. A thick woolly jumper and that lovely cosy duvet of yours are all I need.’
‘Are you sure? I can light it now, if you like, and show you how.’
‘Oh, Tom’s already tried showing me, but I’m hopeless at technical things. I’ll just forget again. And my memory’s not at its best right now.’ Madi filled the kettle and switched it on. ‘You’ve probably heard about my illness and my op, not that it’s a state secret. My mind’s been a bit fuzzy for a while, all over the place. That’s what’s worried me the most, even more than the physical changes to be honest, but I’m getting there. Since I’ve been here I’ve even started finding my keys exactly where I last left them! Must be the country life doing its thing. De-stressing.’
‘That’s good. I’m glad you’ve settled in. And made friends, I hear.’
‘Well, yes, I suppose so. Your mother’s been kind, and Patty at the shop. Don’t know where I’d be without her constant supply of frozen ready-meals! And Tom, of course. He took me to meet his wife, you know, which I thought might be awful but it really wasn’t. So sad …’
‘Yes, it is.’ Prue took the mug of coffee from Madi’s hands and they sat down at the small kitchen table.
‘So, are you back to stay? I can always head home early myself, if that helps.’
‘That hardly seems fair, especially if being here is proving good for your health. And I hear you’re up to something with young Donny?’
‘Hah, yes! The boy was keen to put on a show in the village hall and thought I might be able to help, but I won’t be around as it comes to fruition, will I? No, I’ve been happy to start things off, but I’ve already passed the reins to Tom. The poor man needed a project, something to do …’
‘Funny you should say that, because I’ve sort of started something back in London too, and it looks like I’ll have to hand it over to someone else if it’s ever likely to get finished.’
‘Oh? Now I am intrigued.’
‘It’s the garden at the back. If you can call it that.’
‘Oh, yes, it is a bit of a mess, isn’t it?’
‘Exactly. So I had this idea to make it into something more …’
‘More like this?’ Madi said, gesturing towards the garden through the kitchen window.
‘Well, yes, I suppose so. A decent lawn, a paved area, some flowers, something to be enjoyed and shared rather than just tolerated or used as a place to have a smoke! Perhaps I was being too ambitious. It’s not really my place to start changing anything, is it? I don’t live there, and I won’t be the one living with it in the future, but I do like something to get my teeth into, and I figured you like flowers by the beautiful tulips you left in the bedroom, so it felt like a way of paying you back. A surprise for you when you got back. Not that it will be now. And something with some scents and textures to it, you know, for Suzy downstairs … but I’d hate to step on anyone’s toes, and I already seem to have annoyed the hell out of Stan.’
‘Who hasn’t?’ Madi laughed. ‘There are some people you can never please. Born grumpy, that one.’
‘I suppose so. Anyway, now I’m back here I don’t suppose I’ll see it through. Aaron from downstairs has offered to help, but it’s not really fair to leave him to it.’
‘Ah, so you’ve made friends too! But why not let Aaron do it? If he’s offered? And if you think it might help his mum. He’s a nice lad, from what I’ve seen, and it’ll be them, and the others, who’ll benefit, won’t it? And me too, while I’m still recuperating at home. So many books to catch up on, and a long summer ahead. I’ve spent so mu
ch time away over the years, I hardly ever had time to run the hoover round, do my washing and re-pack, let alone worry about the garden. Yes, I’m all for it, and I can always lend a hand when I get back. Not the actual digging as I’m meant to be going easy on the physical stuff for a while, but if it’s money you need …’
‘Thank you, Madi.’
‘Sounds more like it’s me who should be thanking you. And your garden here is lovely, by the way. The whole village is lovely. I’ll be sorry to leave.’
‘Then don’t! It’s only Friday. We still have …’ She counted on her fingers. ‘Another twelve days of our agreement left, and I’ll be perfectly happy at my parents’ place until then. If Flo recovers enough, I might even go back to yours for a while. So, stay, please. It will be nice to get to know you properly. In fact, that reminds me, Mum wants you to come to dinner tonight. And I’d like that too. You can fill me in about the other residents at Belle Vue Court.’
‘They’re certainly a mixed bunch, aren’t they?’
‘As are the residents of Shelling!’
‘Ah, but that’s what the world’s about. Variety. All part of life’s rich tapestry …’ Madi closed her eyes and tilted her head back, just enough for Prue to spot the join where her wig didn’t quite sit squarely against her forehead. She sat upright again and smiled. ‘Yes, I would love to come to dinner. And no, before you ask, there really is no need to invite Tom as well, just in case your mum has any ideas on that score. We are friends, and that’s all.’
‘And you can’t have too many of those.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you can. Very pleased to meet you at last, Prue my darling. And to add another friend to my list.’
Chapter 27
So, she’s gone. The interloper. Full of crazy ideas, begging everyone for help, and then running off into the night before so much as a spade’s hit the ground. Not to be trusted, that one, pretty much as I suspected all along. Garden, indeed! It might have been all right, I suppose, to help to create something soothing in an otherwise harsh and ugly world, but I’m not going to miss something I never had. Even so, promises should be kept. People should finish what they’ve started, see things through to the end. I certainly intend to.
I should be pleased really, that she’s gone. Excited that I can carry on where I left off, free to poke about again, to roam where I please. I found some trousers today. Left out on the bed. Leather! Well, well, I had her down as a goody two-shoes, but it seems Miss Buttercups and Daisies has a secret side. Leather! Who’d have thought it? Hidden depths, after all. But she didn’t take them with her, did she? Leaving that side of herself in the big bad city, draped sluttishly over someone else’s bed.
But it’s not the same. Since she left – the so-called actress – the edge has gone off it, the thrill nowhere near the same if she isn’t here for me to torment. Visiting an empty flat, without the scent of her, the echo of her, does nothing, fulfils nothing … It’s just curiosity, and that’s not what this is supposed to be about.
I await her return with … anticipation, is that the right word? Or expectation. Of the games to come. Of knowing there can be only one winner this time around. Me.
But there are only so many tricks I can play, only so many objects I can move, or steal. I’m getting bored. I’ve toyed with her long enough, but it’s not working. I thought she’d be so scared by now, terrified even, but cancer’s hard to compete with when it comes to fear.
She doesn’t know about me. I’m sure about that. That solicitor came, but he didn’t see her. He won’t have told her anyway. Confidentiality, and all that. It’s not as if he actually told me. Not all of it. Not about her. Well, not intentionally anyway. And he’s long gone. Job done. Back to his gazumping and his divorce cases, spreading his misery and charging the earth for the privilege. If she’d figured it out, I’d know. But she hasn’t. Not a clue.
So, if the cancer wasn’t able to do it for me – and where would be the satisfaction in that? – perhaps it’s time I did it myself. Finished it. Finished her.
I could do it, couldn’t I? Finish this thing properly. An eye for an eye. Or is that just a fantasy scenario? One I can take pleasure from, but could never really do? Still, what’s the worst that could happen? They could catch me. Unlikely, but possible. But who’s going to suspect me? No one, that’s who.
It’s a risk, but it could be worth it. After all, I don’t have much of a life left to lose. But she does.
Chapter 28
MADI
Faith’s old oak dining table had been extended, its central section brought into play to accommodate the many dishes of food and to make room for the extra chairs. Sian and Ralph, along with his dad Ken, had been invited to join Madi and the family for dinner, and from the moment Faith had manoeuvred her into the chair next to Ken, it had become more and more obvious that there was more than a hint of matchmaking going on.
Madi liked Ken. She had enjoyed his company the night they’d first met in the pub, but she was absolutely not in the market for a man, no matter how amenable he might be.
‘No Tom tonight?’ Ralph said, between mouthfuls of cauliflower cheese. Whether he really believed that she and Tom were linked in some way other than simply as next-door neighbours, or whether he was just trying to help her throw Ken off the scent, she could not be sure. Either way, it certainly made Ken pull back a little as he poured her a second glass of the over-sweet apple wine he had brought with him.
‘I didn’t think to ask him,’ Faith cut in. ‘I didn’t want to overwhelm Madi with too big a crowd, so I thought we should stick to family and close friends tonight, and you know that always includes you, Ralph. I’m just sorry you can’t stay for long.’
‘Well, someone has to go back to the surgery and check on Flo and I’m sure Prue would much prefer to have her dad and Sian here to chat to rather than me on her first proper evening back.’
‘Still, seven is an odd number at the table, so maybe I should have invited Tom to join us,’ Faith went on, as if she hadn’t heard a word. ‘But since the business with Flo, I wasn’t sure that …’
‘Oh, Mum, don’t be silly.’ Prue looked quite shocked. ‘I’m not angry with Tom for what happened to Flo. It was an accident. And seven’s fine. There are only so many mouths a chicken can feed, even a big one like this.’
‘All the more for the rest of us,’ Stuart said, patting his wife on the hand. ‘Lovely gravy, as ever, by the way.’
‘So, have you seen that errant son of mine since you got back?’ Ken had half-turned away from Madi now and was talking across the table to Prue. He placed a hand on Ralph’s arm, to the other side of him. ‘The other one, I mean.’
‘No. No, not yet. How is Joe?’
‘How should I know? Since he moved back, I hardly see him. Bloody stupid, if you ask me, when he had a perfectly good home with us. And I’m sure you weren’t the only one to think he’d be moving in with you soon enough.’
Madi couldn’t help looking at Prue, seeing the embarrassment that flooded her face.
‘We never talked about that, Mr Barton. He hadn’t made me any promises.’
‘Oh, I know. Enough said. That boy’s never been one to talk much, has he? To share his feelings, or his plans. Bottles things up, that one. The sensitive type, as his mother used to say. But he’s flown the nest now and I don’t have any say in what he gets up to. Not any more. I’m just his father, after all.’
By the time they had all eaten the pie, finished the wine and downed the coffee, Madi was quite surprised when she glanced at her watch to realise it was almost ten o’clock. Ralph had left earlier, promising to phone if there was anything to report from Flo’s sick bed, but no call had come so she assumed all was well. Still, Prue decided to take a walk down to check on her before bed, and Madi walked along with her as far as the cottage.
‘You’re sure it’s all right me staying on here? Only, your mother has offered to put me up if …’
‘It’s fine, Madi
, really.’ They stood for a few moments at Prue’s gate, the road dark ahead of them where the sparse line of streetlights petered out, and Prue fiddled in her bag for her phone so she could use its inbuilt torch to help her navigate the narrow lane leading up to the surgery.
‘Hello, Prue. Miss Cardew …’ The voice came out of nowhere, making Madi jump. It was followed by a slow-moving figure dressed in jeans and a black jacket, coming along the pavement, heading in the direction from which they had just come.
‘Joe!’ Prue’s voice wobbled, the single word coming out in a strangled kind of croak.
‘Sorry if I startled you. Just on my way back from the pub.’ Madi had left the porch light on when she’d left earlier, so she would be able to see her way up the garden path and find the lock for her key, and the glow just about reached far enough now for her to get an impression of Joe Barton’s pale face as he hovered a couple of feet away, as if unsure of whether to make conversation or hurry on by.
‘We’ve been up at Orchard House for dinner.’ Prue had lifted her head and was staring at him in the dim light. Madi could see she was struggling for something to say. Well, how was a girl meant to talk to the man she had hoped to marry, knowing now that that was never going to happen?
‘That’s nice. Always did put on a good spread, your mum.’
‘Yes.’ Prue hesitated. ‘So, how are you?’
‘Good. You?’
‘Yes, okay, thanks. I’ve been away.’
‘I noticed.’
‘Sorry, Joe. I need to get on. I have to visit Flo.’
‘Yes, I heard about that. Is she all right?’
‘She will be. Thanks to my dad, and Ralph, of course.’
‘Ah, yes. My brother, the miracle worker.’
‘Yes, he is actually. And there’s you, as jealous as ever.’
‘Not jealous, Prue. It was never about jealousy. Just about fairness, that’s all. It’s always been about clever old Ralph and his big career and his wedding plans. But I needed to find my own way, and branch out on my own, just as much as my brother ever did …’