A Place to Call Home

by Carole Matthews

  Sabina holds out her tiny fingernails for me to examine with a proud smile. They’re painted with the palest of iridescent pinks, which makes her nails look like mother-of-pearl. ‘Very pretty. Do they remind you of the shells on the beach?’

  She nods and a lone tear slides out of her eye to run down her cheek.

  ‘Tell me how you’re feeling, my child,’ I urge her. ‘Please.’

  But I know that she cannot or will not.

  Chapter Fifty-nine

  I tuck Sabina into the big bed and then decide to get in next to her. It’s still quite early in the evening, barely eight o’clock, but I’m weary to my bones.

  Next to me Sabina is hot and restless. Her legs fidget and she throws the covers back and forth as she tosses and turns in troubled sleep. I stroke her hair and offer soothing words. Eventually her breathing changes and she falls deeper into slumber.

  Lying on my back, I stare out of the window. I’ve not closed the curtains and I watch the trees as the summer breeze wafts branches gently across the street lamp outside to make the shadows shift in our room.

  I like this place and I don’t wish to move on. I’m frightened to move on. I like being here with Crystal and Joy and, more particularly, Hayden. What will I do if my whereabouts are exposed in the national press? Is that really possible? If it is, surely word will then get back to Suresh? In my heart I know his stubborn pride will mean that he’ll not let me get away from him.

  Resting my head on the cool pillow, I try to think of what I’ll do, but no cohesive thoughts will come. They’re all a jumble and make no sense to me. I don’t want to spend my life running from Suresh, always having to look over my shoulder. It’s been so easy to forget his presence while I’ve been cosseted here, while my life has been changing so much. I could pretend that he didn’t exist. Yet he’s a lurking presence to me, as much as the photographers are to Hayden. We’re both people who are pursued, hunted. All we both want is to be left alone in peace. Is that too much to ask?

  When I fall asleep my dream isn’t pleasant. In it I’m chased by a dark figure, through dense and unfriendly woods with trees that catch and scratch at the shalwar kameez that covers my arms, ripping it away from me, exposing my skin. I’m trying to hold my clothes to me and run for my life when a hand reaches out from the blackness and clutches my hair with steel fingers. It stops me in my tracks and then I’m pulled to the ground. I feel the hair tearing from my scalp and I cry out but there’s no one to hear me.

  A noise drags me from my dream and I sit up, panting heavily. My body is drenched with sweat. The lamp from the street shifts the shadows again and there, in the corner of my room, a man is standing. I want to scream, but my voice is knotted in my throat and won’t come.

  He moves towards me, and finally I manage to call out. A scream starts in my throat.

  ‘Hush, hush.’ It’s Hayden’s voice. Relief floods through me. ‘It’s only me. You scared the life out of me. I heard you shouting and thought something was wrong.’

  He comes to sit next to me on the bed and I put my hand on his arm, glad to feel the solid reality of his body.

  ‘You must have been having a bad dream.’

  ‘I was,’ I say. ‘Someone was chasing me through the woods.’

  ‘Did he have a camera?’ he asks, trying to make light of it.

  I laugh softly at that. ‘No. He didn’t.’

  ‘Do you want me to go downstairs and make you a cup of tea?’

  I shake my head. ‘Stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone.’ My body gives an involuntary shudder.

  ‘You’re cold.’

  I don’t know if I’m cold or if I’m hot, but tenderly he wraps the cover round me, as I do to Sabina.

  ‘I’m frightened,’ I tell him.

  ‘Do you want to come up to my room?’ he asks. ‘We can talk without disturbing Sabina.’

  ‘I wouldn’t like to leave her. She was having troubled sleep too.’

  ‘Poor love.’ Hayden reaches across and strokes her hair. He gazes at her as a father would at his child. ‘I want to protect you both, and yet all I’ve done is make your situation worse.’

  ‘We don’t know that yet,’ I remind him.

  ‘We’ll find out soon enough,’ he says, ‘and then we can decide what the damage limitation needs to be.’

  ‘I can face anything with you.’ I run my fingers along the contours of his cheek. He’s a very beautiful man.

  Hayden lies down beside me and I curl into his arms. He plants soft kisses on my hair. Sabina sighs in her sleep and nestles in towards me. And, despite all our troubles, we’re all soon asleep.

  Chapter Sixty

  We wait and wait. Two weeks spent on tenterhooks, scouring the internet and the tabloids each day, and all to no avail. There’s no picture in the newspapers or the gossip magazines.

  ‘Perhaps he didn’t manage to get the shot,’ is Hayden’s conclusion. ‘Or it was too blurry.’

  ‘Maybe we turned quickly enough and all he saw was your back?’

  He shrugs. ‘Could be.’

  Whatever the cause of its absence, I’m very pleased. Hayden, on the other hand, seems both more relieved and more anxious.

  ‘One thing this has shown me is that I don’t want to spend all my days cooped up here,’ he adds. ‘I have a right to a life as much as anyone else does. But if I’m going to venture out into the world again, I’ll have to put more security measures back in place. This guy might not have been able to sell his photograph, but once they get a whiff of the scent they’ll be back at the door, as sure as eggs is eggs. I’m only amazed they’re not camped outside already.’

  That brings my skin out in gooseflesh. I don’t like the sound of that at all.

  Today we’re going back for our third visit to Joy’s day centre and, as she promised, Crystal has bought us both a pink polo shirt to wear as a uniform. They’re very pretty, in the palest of pinks. Mine is loose-fitting and buttoned up to my neck and she’s bought me a long-sleeved white T-shirt to go beneath it. Crystal’s is very tight and is opened as far as it will allow, to show off her impressive cleavage. I hope that none of the elderly gentlemen in her fan club has a heart condition.

  We load up Hayden’s car again. Yesterday evening I baked a few batches of samosas and some pakoras for the day-centre visitors to try. Joy, to my great surprise, has been telling them what a marvellous cook I am. Wonders will never cease!

  I hate to leave Hayden behind. In the fortnight since our trip to Lulworth Cove and Lyme Regis, our relationship has grown. Since the night he came to wake me from my nightmare, he’s been sleeping in our room. When Sabina is asleep, he comes to our bed and curls up beside us. Every morning I have a blissful moment when I wake and find myself in Hayden’s arms. I watch him, his face relaxed in sleep, until his eyes open.

  Then we kiss quietly, shyly, and Hayden slips away before I have to wake Sabina. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind finding him there, but the less she knows of these things the better. We’ve told neither Joy nor Crystal of our growing fondness, but I’m sure that they can tell from the warm looks and glances we exchange.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ he says as he sees me hovering.

  ‘We’ll collect Sabina on the way back,’ I tell him.

  He nods and then stands back to wave us away. I watch as he turns back into the vast house alone. Crystal swings the car out of the gates and I see the security camera swivel after us.

  I’m sure there’s a change of atmosphere at Constance Fields. There seems to be more of a spring in the step of some of the regulars. The ladies look like they’ve dressed up a little and I’m sure that the men, too, are looking more spry. Some of the windows are thrown open to let in fresh air, and it makes me happy to see it.

  When we’re setting up our stations, Joy comes over. ‘Can I introduce you to the new manager, ladies?’ she says. ‘This is Edgar Janson.’

  Crystal and I look up. Standing beside us is a tall, dark and very handsome ma
n. My friend’s smile brightens instantly and I do believe that her eyelashes actually flutter.

  ‘Well, hello,’ she says.

  Edgar Janson takes her hand and shakes it. ‘Thank you for coming in to our centre,’ he says in heavily accented English. ‘Our clients are enjoying it very much.’ Then he grins at her. ‘Now I can see why.’

  Crystal flushes and giggles girlishly.

  ‘I’m Ayesha,’ I say. He takes my hand too, but he doesn’t hold it for a long time, as he did with Crystal.

  ‘I hope I will have a chance to talk to you later,’ he says. ‘Perhaps over a cup of tea.’

  Crystal watches with open admiration as he walks away down the corridor. ‘Phwoar,’ she says to Joy. ‘Where did he come from?’

  ‘Latvia,’ Joy says, ever practical.

  ‘You know what I mean, Joy,’ Crystal says crossly. ‘You’re not that dried up that you can’t spot a looker. Why didn’t you tell us about him before now? Is he not as fit as you’d like?’

  ‘He’s very attractive,’ I agree.

  ‘Hands off. You’ve got your own,’ Crystal says. ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed those longing glances between you and Hayd. He’s had puppy-dog eyes since the day you moved in.’

  I flush and she winks at me.

  ‘Don’t rule out getting a new hat before too long, Joy,’ Crystal says, flicking her head in my direction.

  ‘I am actually already married,’ I point out.

  ‘Details,’ she counters with a dismissive wave. ‘Right, we’d better get started. If this lot all want to look like Joan Collins before teatime we’ve got our work cut out.’

  Joy rolls her eyes at me, but Crystal does make me laugh.

  At lunchtime Crystal and I sit in the garden to eat a sandwich, as has become our custom. I’ve handed round my samosas to the ladies and gentlemen and they seem to be enjoying them. Our clients are divided into two camps and they’re instantly identifiable. All of Crystal’s ladies are sporting little rainbow-coloured faces with matching rainbow-coloured nails. My customers, on the other hand, have pale pink or peach polish with the barest shimmer of matching lipstick. My massages are very popular too. A number of men with arthritic fingers have joined my appointments list – though I’m sure they’d be happier if I wore my polo shirt like Crystal. Despite their advancing years and failing eyesight, they’re very taken with her.

  ‘Don’t know quite how to tell you this,’ she says, when she’s finished her sandwich. ‘Don’t be mad.’

  ‘Of course not.’

  She chews her lip anxiously. ‘I’ve got myself a full-time job.’

  My heart plunges to my boots. ‘Not back at the club?’

  ‘No, you dozy woman! What do you take me for?’

  My smile comes back.

  ‘At the nail bar on Rosslyn Hill.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Start next week.’ She studies me closely. ‘You are OK about it?’

  ‘I’m delighted,’ I tell her. ‘Of course you must do this.’

  ‘My day off is probably going to be Monday, so we can still come along and do this together if you want to.’

  ‘You mustn’t think of that, Crystal. You’ll need some time for yourself. I can carry on here.’

  ‘I’ll ask them if there are any more jobs coming up for you as well. If you want me to. We can work at Highly Polished together.’

  I shake my head. ‘I don’t think it’s the right place for me.’ Looking around at the garden, at the lovely people who come here, I feel at home. There’s a calmness in the atmosphere that soothes me, and I like listening to the wisdom of the older people as they chat to me. I wouldn’t like to give this up now. ‘This place suits me. I think I’d like to do more massage, more caring rather than just nails.’

  ‘I want to keep coming here because I fancy that manager,’ Crystal intimates.

  ‘Edgar?’

  ‘He’s gorgeous.’

  ‘He is.’

  ‘I’ve never been able to keep a man,’ Crystal says quietly. ‘Well, not a nice one. When I had my job at the club no one was interested. They all wanted to get a good look at my noo-noo, sure enough, but they didn’t want to take me home.’ The hope in her eyes tears at my heart. ‘Perhaps it will be different now.’

  We lean together and Crystal puts her head on my shoulder. Together we enjoy the sun on our faces. ‘I hope so, my friend,’ I say to her. ‘I do hope so.’

  Chapter Sixty-one

  Later in the afternoon, before we leave, Joy comes to sit at my nail station. I soak my cotton-wool pad in varnish remover and gently take the polish off her nails.

  ‘Although we live in the same house, we don’t get very much time to sit and talk, do we?’ I say to her. ‘There’s always so much to do. This is nice.’

  ‘I feel you’re fighting a losing battle with my nails,’ she notes. ‘I should wear gardening gloves.’

  Every week there’s soil beneath her nails and her cuticles are torn. ‘You are a lady who likes to feel the earth beneath her fingers.’ I smile up at her. ‘Your garden is all the better for it. Besides, I like a challenge.’

  Joy offers a smile too, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

  ‘There’s something wrong?’

  ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind,’ Joy admits. ‘I didn’t sleep very well last night.’

  I wait to hear what’s troubling her, but she volunteers no more. So I pick up my file and move on to shaping her nails. They’re dry and cracked, her fingers quite raw and red. She also, I think, has some arthritis in her hands. The joints of her fingers are gnarled and twisted like the roots of a tree. I’m sure that she likes the massage part of her treatment more than her nails looking nice and, as she’s my last client today, I’ll spend a little extra time on them. I use the lavender cream that I bought in Lyme Regis to gently rub them. Her hands are tight with tension.

  Joy’s not getting any younger and I wonder who’ll look after her when she’s older. She seems to have a lot of acquaintances here, but not one close friend. Will Crystal and I still be at Hayden’s home when she starts to need our care? Would she even be happy with us doing it? She’s a woman who likes her privacy, and it’s a worrying thought.

  When I look up, I see that her eyes are filled with tears. I stop my massage and simply hold her hand, waiting until she feels able to speak.

  ‘My son phoned me last night, after dinner,’ she says, wiping her eyes. I hand her a tissue. ‘Stephen, the one in Singapore.’

  ‘That’s nice.’

  ‘He was on the phone for an awfully long time. I felt quite exhausted by the time he hung up.’ She lets out a ragged breath. ‘They’ve asked me to go and live with them. My other son, Malcolm, and his family will be moving there next year too and they’re going to look to settle near Stephen. It’s a chance for us all to be together again.’

  ‘Oh, Joy. Won’t that be lovely?’

  ‘I’m frightened,’ she admits. ‘I’ve always had my independence. They’ve said they’ll build a separate annexe for me in their garden, but I don’t know if I like the sound of that. I’ll have my own bedroom, my own living room. But they won’t really be my own, will they?’

  ‘Your family will be right on your doorstep. Surely you like the sound of that?’

  ‘What if they get fed up of me?’ she says. ‘They’re young. They have their lives to live. What happens if I become ill? I’ll be in a foreign land, in a foreign hospital, and they’ll be stuck with me.’ Joy lowers her voice although there’s no one near us. ‘I had years and years of looking after my husband when he was ill and housebound, I know what it’s like. It blighted the boys’ lives when they were growing up too. I know that when they went to university they couldn’t wait to escape it. They don’t need any more sickness. I couldn’t burden them with that.’

  ‘They’re older men now, not impetuous youths,’ I point out. ‘Now that they have children of their own, they’ll appreciate more what family means.’

>   She gazes round her, at the other people of her age gathering together, chatting, in this room. ‘I’d have to leave everything I know. I don’t suppose any of this lot would miss me. Not really. But I’d miss them. I don’t make friends easily, Ayesha. Here I’m busy. I have lots to do. The garden to look after. In Singapore what would I do with myself all day?’

  ‘There’ll be a garden there too. Think of it as an adventure, Joy. How many people get a chance in their life to do that?’

  She doesn’t look convinced. ‘Then there’s you and Sabina. And Hayden. Even Crystal. We’re a funny old bunch all thrown together, but it works, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Everything changes, Joy. I wouldn’t want you to pass up this chance because of us.’ I don’t like to tell her of Hayden’s yearning for a quieter life by the sea.

  ‘I’ve only met Stephen’s wife, Ling, a couple of times. She seems very nice, of course, but will she really want me under her feet?’

  ‘You should talk to her about that, Joy. It might make you feel better if you get all of these things out in the open.’

  Slowly, I continue to rub the nourishing cream into her hands, working on each finger individually, taking care to massage each ageing knuckle, each tired joint. Joy sighs with relief.

  ‘They’re really aching today,’ she admits. She watches as I work my thumbs across the back of her hand. ‘That feels very nice.’ Joy sighs again. ‘What would you do? In my situation.’

  ‘I would go,’ I tell her honestly. ‘It won’t all be plain sailing, I won’t pretend that.’ I remember when I set out on my own journey to a strange land, leaving all that I loved behind. How hopeful I was then.

  ‘It didn’t work out well for you,’ Joy notes.

  That makes me smile. Trust Joy not to miss a trick. ‘That’s true, but I was leaving my family to come and live with a husband I didn’t really know. I put my trust in him and I was wrong to do so. You’ll be going to people who love you very much and want you to be with them.’