by Susan Lewis
One of the first things Angie had done with the thousands of pounds she’d received in refunded rent was rush to the pawnbrokers to redeem her wedding ring and Steve’s mother’s necklace. In a rash moment while there she’d redeemed other items too, all of them belonging to strangers, and had trusted the broker to make sure they were returned to their owners – or hocked again if it was what they wanted. She only wished she could have bought back Steve’s piano and the treasured rocking horse, and the many other precious items the children had given up when times had been really tough, but she had to accept that they’d all gone now. This was a new start, she reminded herself, and what really mattered was the fact that they were together and safe in the house that Steve’s friendship and loyalty to Hari had earned for them.
Of course her debts hadn’t gone anywhere yet, but thankfully the total had almost halved once the outstanding rent had been removed. So she now owed just over fifteen and a half thousand pounds to various creditors, with eleven thousand of it due to the local authority for council tax arrears and ‘other agency’ fees. She’d heard on the radio, only a few days ago, about a man who’d ended up taking his life as a way out of the same situation. It had just about broken her heart to listen to his family explaining how impossible it had been for him to meet this debt; it had to be paid because there was absolutely no forgiveness from the local authority or from the recovery organizations it employed.
Dealing with creditors was very different for Angie now that she had proof of property ownership to show to the bank, backed up with an estate agent’s contract to market Amy Cutler’s house.
‘You’re kidding me?’ Amy Cutler had snarled when Angie had broken the news of their new relationship. ‘I’d have thought, after what happened to you, the last thing you’d want is to make someone homeless.’
‘If I can find an investor who’s happy for you to stay,’ Angie replied coolly, ‘I’ll be fine with it. If I can’t, you’ll still have plenty of time to sort out somewhere else to live.’
The hatred that blazed from Amy Cutler’s fierce little eyes might have felt more alarming if Angie hadn’t been enjoying her satisfaction so much. Shallow, she knew, but hey, the woman had been an absolute bitch to her, and there really wasn’t any chance of her being homeless when she had a good job and plenty of family in town.
‘And as soon as you get the proceeds from Amy’s house,’ Emma had declared later, randomly throwing a bundle of twenties in the air like it was confetti, ‘you’ll be free and clear of all that wretched debt and you’ll have the rental income from mine to live on.’
‘I’m not charging you rent,’ Angie protested hotly. ‘You’re my sister.’
‘Ben pays it,’ Emma reminded her, ‘and think of it this way, it might make up for the loss of wages if there’s no more BtG.’
This was true, it would, but Angie wasn’t going to get worked up about BtG and the uncertainty there until she had to, which would be when the houses went on the market, and that still hadn’t happened yet.
It was during their second week back at the house, with all the boxes mostly unpacked by now, that Grace had the brilliant idea of celebrating their return with a party. Almost immediately they set about inviting everyone they needed to thank for helping them during their difficult time, up to fifty people, and later they drove over to M&S to order the food. Feeling uncomfortable about buying so much when there were so many who were barely able to afford a sandwich, never mind a feast, she’d ordered a dozen platters to be sent to the night shelter, and a large box of tinned and dried goods for the food bank.
Martha was the first to RSVP on behalf of Martin.
My dear, the whole family is going to a wedding on Saturday – Andee included. Martin’s nephew is getting married in the church at Westleigh. I’m just off to collect Alayna from the station because himself is tied up this morning. However, Darth and I would love to come.
Darth was what she called her husband after Darth Vader – his name was Derek – and Angie had to admit she was looking forward to meeting him. At the same time she was beyond disappointed that Andee couldn’t make it, which was nothing to how crushed she felt that Martin couldn’t either. Still, at least it spared them the awkwardness of having to turn her down if they’d wanted to, for they had the perfect excuse.
When the day came the house filled up so quickly that Angie could hardly keep track of who was coming and going, but to her delight the lawyer and the debt adviser who’d helped her so much these past weeks both turned up along with their partners, as did the team who’d uncovered Roland Shalik’s fraud. Everyone who’d asked her to cover shifts for them was there, most of the neighbours, colleagues from the shelters in town, the food bank and of course from BtG. Sadly Hamish couldn’t make it, he’d gone down with flu. However, he’d caught the bus over yesterday to help with the heavy work, until Melvin had driven him back with strict instructions from Angie to make sure he went straight to bed. It was the first time a resident had been to her home, but she saw no reason to continue adhering to the petty rule of no socializing when, to her mind, it treated them as lesser people.
The biggest hits of the day were, without a doubt, Martha who breezed in dressed as Professor McGonagall, and her husband, who made a very convincing Dumbledore. The kids – and there were at least twenty of them – went wild, especially when they were each presented with a wizard’s wand from Martha’s magic bag.
‘There’s one for you, Grace,’ Martha told her, digging out the last two, ‘and for your friend here.’
‘Awesome,’ Lois beamed, taking hers. ‘I have so many spells I need to make happen, I can’t wait to get started.’
Martha looked interested.
‘They’re teenagers,’ Dumbledore reminded her. ‘They don’t divulge secrets to oldies like you.’
Accepting this, Martha trotted back outside to where Lois’s mother was plying the kids with squash, while Emma circled the adults topping up glasses with the wine Martin had sent over as his contribution to a party he couldn’t attend. Andee had texted her regrets the day before and wished everyone a lovely time, with a PS that said: We’ve located Merino’s sister and hope to see her sometime next week. Will let you know when it happens.
‘Mum! Mum!’ Zac cried, zooming into the kitchen with his wizard’s wand and almost colliding with her. ‘Say a wish and I bet I can make it come true.’
Angie laughed. ‘I think I’ve had enough wishes coming true lately,’ she protested.
‘No, no, you’ve got to do it,’ he insisted.
Obediently, Angie closed her eyes, made a wish and opened them again.
‘What was it?’ he demanded.
‘I’m not telling you.’
‘But I can’t make it come true if I don’t know what it is.’
Grace said, ‘I bet I know what it is.’
Angie regarded her suspiciously. ‘Bet you don’t,’ she countered.
‘If I whisper it, will you tell me if I’m right?’
Angie considered this. ‘No,’ she decided. And to Zac, ‘If you’re a real wizard you’ll be able to read my mind and make it come true anyway.’
‘I’ll tell you my wish,’ Emma offered.
Delighted, Zac spun round, wand at the ready.
‘I wish I had a million quid.’
Zac waved and chanted, waved again and ended with a ‘Pzzazz!’
Emma looked up and around.
‘It doesn’t happen straight away,’ he told her, ‘you have to wait.’
‘OK, just let me know when to expect it. I’m available any time.’
Off he zoomed again. Apparently it was time for a game of quidditch over on the green – and exactly how Martha and her husband were going to pull this off, everyone had to see.
It turned out to be an actual game – no broomsticks required – although to lend some authenticity they’d brought along a quaffle, two bludgers, some hoops and a snitch in a sock. It was hilarious, especially when two teams for
med, Muggles vs Wizards, and as everyone ran and dodged, swooped and screamed, Angie could almost feel Steve smiling down on them.
This was very definitely his kind of party.
It was almost ten o’clock by the time Emma and Melvin, the last to leave, took their kids in separate directions – he a couple of doors down to number 18, Emma over the footbridge back to her semi. Zac had already crashed out on his bed, wizard wand still gripped in his fist, chocolate cake smeared in his hair.
As she gazed down at him, Angie knew that the headiness she was feeling had as much to do with knowing she didn’t have to worry about whether they could afford to run a bath in the morning as it did with the wine. She had enough credit on her meter card now to last at least until the end of the week, and then she’d just top it up again. Her thoughts went, as they always did when she was reflecting on how lucky she was, to the thousands of people out there who remained trapped in the awful spiral of debt and poverty that she’d managed to escape. She could feel their angst and despair as if it were still her own. Who was there to help them? Not the government, she knew that much, for they were all about enforcing cuts that made struggling people’s lives worse.
She was going to try and do something about it. As yet she had no idea what, but there was simply no way she could carry on now as if her experiences with austerity, eviction and debt escalation hadn’t happened. She needed to put them to good use, and she would.
‘I don’t think I told you earlier,’ Grace said, putting away clean glasses as Angie returned to the kitchen, ‘but you look amazing in that dress. It really suits you.’
Angie smiled with pleasure. ‘Thank you,’ she said, glancing down at what she could see of it under her apron. It was made from royal blue stretch lace with a deep V back and close-fitting sleeves, and she had to admit she’d felt good when she’d put it on. She wondered if she should tell Grace that the only other time she’d worn it was when she and Steve had been invited to a cocktail party at a boutique hotel he’d worked on, but before she could come to a decision Grace was heading back into the sitting room to see if there was any more to wash up.
A moment or two later Grace called out, ‘Mum? Someone’s just pulled up outside in one of those little Audis and I think she’s … It looks like she’s coming in here.’
Puzzled, Angie removed her hands from the washing up, grabbed a towel and went to investigate.
There was indeed a young, willowy blonde at the end of the path, and a man was walking round the car to join her.
‘Oh my God, it’s Martin,’ Grace declared, excitedly.
To Angie’s astonishment it actually was.
Grace turned to look at her. ‘Did you know he was coming?’ she whispered, as if they might be overheard.
‘No.’
‘But it was your wish, right?’
Angie’s eyes widened. ‘Is that what your guess was?’ she countered.
‘No, not this exactly, but I reckoned it had something to do with him. Who’s that with him?’
Angie started as the doorbell chimed, and quickly whipping off her pinny and shoving it and the towel at Grace she went to answer the door.
‘Hi,’ the blonde said with a sunny smile. ‘Are we too late? We are, aren’t we?’
Recognizing Alayna, Martin’s daughter, Angie said, ‘No, no, of course not.’ She pulled the door wider. ‘There’s still plenty to eat and drink …’
‘Oh, I swear we had enough at the wedding, but we thought we’d just drop in on our way back into town to see if the party was still going.’
‘My designated driver,’ Martin announced, following his daughter inside, white shirt open at the throat, black bow tie hanging loosely from the collar. ‘We’re too late,’ he told her. ‘I said we would be.’
‘No Dad,’ she corrected, ‘you said it would still be happening.’
Martin glanced at Angie and shrugged helplessly.
Laughing, Angie said, ‘Grace, this is Alayna, Martin’s daughter.’
Grace’s eyes were already alight, as if she’d just come face to face with an actual celebrity, maybe even a goddess. ‘I recognize you from the photos in your dad’s flat,’ she told Alayna.
Tucking an arm through Grace’s as if they’d known each other for ever, Alayna walked her through to the kitchen saying, ‘I expect Dad will have a glass of red wine, if there is any. I’ll have a Coke, and if you’d like us to leave after that we will.’
Angie didn’t hear Grace’s response, she only heard herself laugh as Martin sighed with exasperation. ‘I told her about Grace,’ he confessed, ‘I mean, only about her love of acting and theatre, which is right up Alayna’s street, of course.’
Angie smiled as she gestured for him to sit down. ‘I think Grace just experienced a crush at first sight, so I hope they don’t forget our drinks.’
He looked around at the after-party debris scattered over the coffee table, in the fireplace and even over the floor. ‘We really are too late,’ he insisted, ‘but it looks as though everyone had a good time.’
‘Mostly thanks to Martha and Darth – do you actually call him that?’
He laughed. ‘When she’s there I do, and I think he kind of likes it. Did they come in fancy dress?’
‘They did,’ she confirmed, watching him settle into the armchair Steve used to favour for reading the paper. It seemed strange and yet OK to see Martin there instead.
‘They always do if they know there are going to be kids. I’m sure if mine didn’t love their real grandparents so much they’d have traded them in years ago for Martha and Derek.’
Angie smiled, and looked up as Grace and Alayna came in, each carrying a large glass of red wine.
‘Grace is going to show me her room,’ Alayna announced, handing a glass to her father. ‘No rush about leaving, your chauffeur is sober even if you aren’t.’
Martin cast a pained look Angie’s way as Grace gave her a glass almost without looking, she was so entranced by Alayna.
When they’d gone Angie said, ‘So how was the wedding?’
Martin waved a hand. ‘All the usual stuff, beautiful bride, handsome couple, speeches too long, dad dancing best entertainment, granny love over the top – we’re big on that in our family, because they only have grannies these days, no grandpas.’
‘I’m not getting a great sense of romance here,’ Angie informed him drily.
He laughed. ‘That’s because I’m telling the story. If you asked Alayna or Andee, or the groom’s mother, my sister, they’d probably do a much better job of describing it. But it was a lovely day and I’m very fond of my nephew so I’m happy to see him jetting off into the sunset with the girl of his dreams.’
‘Does that mean they’ve already left on honeymoon?’
‘About an hour ago, which is why we felt OK about leaving when we did. The disco had just got going and, according to Alayna, I’d already embarrassed myself – and her – enough for one day, so it was time for us to leave. The truth of the matter is she was being pestered by some guy she wasn’t interested in, so being the great dad I am I suggested we should pretend I was drunk so she had to take me home – and then we could drop in on you on the way. And here we are. So that’s my day. Tell me about yours. Who came and did you have a good time? I mean you, not everyone else, because I’m sure we can take that as a given.’
Enjoying how relaxed he seemed as much as the fact that he’d thought to drop in, Angie reflected a moment on the day and said, ‘The best part of it was being here in this house, obviously. In some ways it was almost like we’d never left, but I think it’ll take a while for us to recover from the last couple of months.’ She brightened her smile. ‘It was a party Steve would have loved, so I feel we did him proud.’
Martin nodded. ‘I’m sure you did.’ He took a sip of his wine and put the glass down on the small table beside him. ‘I can see why you feel so attached to the place,’ he remarked, looking around, ‘it’s got a great feel to it.’
P
leased he thought so, she said, ‘We loved it right from the start – actually we’re the only ones to have lived in it.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘I expect it’s a little different to your family home.’
He tilted his head to one side. ‘You might be surprised,’ he countered, ‘we didn’t move to where my mother is now until my sister and I were in our teens. Before that we were in a place quite similar to this, over in Northfields.’
Since Northfields was no grander a suburb than the one she’d grown up in, Angie felt glad to know that their backgrounds weren’t so very different after all. However, she couldn’t help wondering what his family home was like these days, up there on Westleigh Heights. ‘Are you pleased to be back in the flat?’ she asked, sipping her wine.
He shrugged. ‘Alayna’s taken it over for the next couple of weeks. She loves it there because it’s in town, Luke too when he’s around, but for me, it’s not ideal living over the office. It means I spend too much time at work and while I don’t have a problem with that, my family are always on my case about it. Now, tell me who else came today, apart from the obvious suspects.’
Glad to be able to say that virtually all the people he’d put her in touch with had made it, she then ran through a list of friends, neighbours and colleagues, ending with the BtG residents. ‘It was a real shame Hamish, our oldest guy, couldn’t make it,’ she sighed. ‘He doesn’t socialize much, but I think he was really looking forward to it – he even came to help with the preparations yesterday, but we could see then that he wasn’t well. I’ll probably drive over there tomorrow to check up on him.’
‘This is the Hamish you’ve been telling Martha about?’ he asked, picking up his glass again. ‘The one you have a particular soft spot for?’
Surprised that Martha had mentioned it, Angie said, ‘That’s him. Did she also tell you that the houses are going up for sale so we have to find alternative accommodation for the residents?’
‘She did. And you’re worried about Hamish because of his age.’
‘And his health. He has a lung condition that makes it difficult for him to work, but try telling the employment people that. They’re forever getting him assessed or cutting his benefits, or even coming up with jobs that are totally unsuitable. It’s why he was made a permanent resident, so he wouldn’t end up back on the streets thanks to all the lack of understanding – and he’s taken such pride in Hill Lodge. He fixes everything he can, from plumbing to electrics to floorboards to actually restoring some of the original features. Finding somewhere else for him is going to be hard, because Hill Lodge really is his home.’