‘Let the men have a chat,’ she said, smiling. ‘I don’t think they get much of a chance outside the office to talk about stuff. Mike’s just been telling me how he has agonized about things but he has to think of Monique first. She’s going to be sorry to move and she hates to leave you but they would be daft not to go.’
‘I know that.’ Christine waved a hand in frustration.
‘He’s been telling me about his new job. It’s not just a restaurant, apparently; there is a hotel attached and Mike’s going to be helping to run that.’
‘Good heavens, he has no experience whatsoever. How the hell is that going to work?’
‘Give him a chance.’ Amy tugged at her fluffy cream beret. It had been a so-called stocking present together with some matching mittens and scarf and she was gamely wearing the whole caboodle, although Christine suspected she might never wear them again. She looked pretty today, even happy, and Christine wondered what had gone on last night in the kitchen.‘We’ve given him enough chances,’ she said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice and not quite succeeding. ‘And I’ve had to fight him every inch of the way to stop him losing patience.’
‘It might be the making of him, Mum. He was never interested in our business.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it any more just now.’
The snow was soft underfoot with occasional slippery patches and they took care, she and Amy allowing some distance to develop between them and the men. Frank seemed to be taking it better than she was and she needed to give him time to talk to his son in a sensible manner. Perhaps it would be the best thing for Mike, an opportunity indeed to prove to his father that he was capable of making a success of something on his own. Even so, the news lay like a solid block of ice in her stomach and just now she did not feel capable of ever eating again. Pity, because she had a big buffet lined up for later where the Christmas cake would take centre stage.
There were few people about as most of the villagers were huddled indoors but it felt good, the familiarity a comfort as they trudged through the village street, over the stone bridge then over the stile that would take them along the narrow public footpath up to the top of the hill. There was usually a wonderful view from up there and today it would be exceptional. They would need to get the walk over quite quickly, though, before the daylight dwindled. Hot toddies when they got back, she thought, and she hoped to goodness that Monique and Brian had kept the fire topped up. She was just a little concerned at leaving the two of them together because, although she trusted Monique completely she was not so sure of Brian. He had a robust earthy look about him and looking back she supposed that when he was young Frank’s demeanour had been similar.
‘Brian should have come along,’ she said, deciding, on reflection, that in fact it was better he had not because she must grasp this heaven-sent opportunity for a mother/ daughter chat.
‘He’s not into country walks,’ Amy said.
‘But he lives in the country, doesn’t he?’
‘Yes but he’s only fifteen minutes away from civilization. I think he’ll sell up before long and move back to the city. He misses that buzz.’
‘From what he says it’s much too big for him, anyway. Unless he’s intending to get married and start a family and wanted a house ready made for them.’ She shot Amy a quick glance. ‘Is it serious between the two of you?’
Amy sighed. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘You don’t think so? Don’t you know?’
‘How sure were you when Dad asked you to marry him? Did you say yes straight off?’
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I made him wait a while. Your grandma and grandpa didn’t really like him that much and that didn’t help. You always want other people to like the man you choose, don’t you? Has he asked you to marry him?’
‘Not yet but I think he might.’
‘I see. And will you say yes?’
‘You don’t like him, do you?’
‘Oh come on, we’ve only just met him.’ Christine sighed and tucked her arm into Amy’s. ‘It’s up to you, love, and we won’t interfere. If he’s what you want then that’s fine with us but can I offer you some advice?’
Amy smiled a little. ‘You’re going to whether I like it or not.’
‘Yes, well, don’t dawdle too much. It’s so easy to talk yourself out of something, something that might be right for you. Just think about that.’
‘Thanks. At least you haven’t said that I’m not getting any younger and no, Mum, I’m not desperate yet. I can still have children if I want. I’m not shutting that door completely.’
Christine glanced at her in surprise. That was the very first time she had said anything like that, a little softening in that tough-nut exterior, and she welcomed it cautiously. Who knows? She would grow used to Brian in time and that might be enough. It was a crumb of comfort, anyway.
Frank and Mike had picked up the pace and were forging ahead. At least they were talking, which was something. Amy noticed it, too, and pointed it out.
‘This is the best thing to happen, Mum. It was a big mistake the two of them working together,’ she said. ‘That’s why I turned down the chance because I just knew it wouldn’t work out. Dad would never treat me as an equal because I’m still his little girl and to the staff I would always be the boss’s daughter who didn’t quite deserve the job. It’s not many families that can work together without a few big bust ups and it might have been better if Mike had stuck up for himself a bit more.’
‘Of course it would but he’s not like that. He’s not as argumentative as you, not by a long chalk.’
‘Arguments are good. They can be positive and they clear the air. If you don’t have it out then it all festers and that’s no good for anybody. Do you and Dad argue much?’
‘No. You know we don’t. I sulk and that’s much more effective,’ she said with a small smile.
At this point the path narrowed even more and forked to the right. It was the hardest part of the whole climb, which on the whole was gentle enough. The hill the village clustered beneath was an easily accessible affair, child’s play for anybody of average fitness. The snow was making the path slippery, though, and even with suitable footwear it was tiring trudging through it.
‘We don’t need to do the whole hog,’ Christine said. ‘We can turn back anytime you like.’
‘No fear. I haven’t reached the summit for a long time.’
‘The summit? It’s hardly Everest.’
‘It feels like it when you’re not fit.’ She paused, hands on hips. ‘Good grief, Mum, I’m knackered already.’
‘The gym membership Brian gave you should help.’
‘It would if I meant to use it. When have I the time to go to the gym?’
‘You should make the time, darling.’
‘It’s easier said than done, Mum. And I’m just a bit miffed that he thinks I need to get fit. I do need to get fitter but he needn’t have reminded me.’ She changed the subject abruptly as she caught her mother’s smile. ‘Dad seems to be recovering well. What does the doctor say?’
‘Providing he keeps up the medication, watches his blood pressure and stops smoking he should be fine.’ Christine sighed, pausing briefly to catch her own breath and taking a moment to gaze back at the snowy landscape. ‘It was very scary, Amy, especially with the family history. He was checked years ago and all seemed well but he ducked out of future checks, which was ridiculous because they might have picked up a problem. Do you mind if we don’t talk about it? It upsets me.’
Amy nodded, understanding. ‘It upsets me too, Mum. But the operation was a success, wasn’t it?’
‘Oh yes. Provided he does what he’s told he’s good to go, the doctor says, for another twenty years or so.’ Christine managed a smile. ‘So you needn’t worry because we’re stuck with him a while longer.’
‘I’m sorry you had to cope with it on your own, Mum. I would have stayed a while longer when he came out of hospital but I wa
s so busy.’
‘I know. Monique was here. She was such a help.’
‘I’m sure she was.’ The tone had cooled but that always happened when Monique was mentioned. ‘You’re going to miss her.’
‘Yes.’
‘You can visit. She’s quite right. It’s not that far.’
‘Don’t humour me, Amy. It takes me five minutes just now to get to her house and it will take at least two days to get to the one in France,’ Christine said and that put an end to that. ‘If she does have a child I’m going to miss it growing up. And it will be French.’
Amy laughed. ‘So? I think that’s rather sweet.’
‘Yes, of course it is. Tell me I’m being daft.’
‘You are not being daft. You are just upset, that’s all. As for her having a baby, I don’t think she’s keen on that idea, Mum. If she was then she’d have had one by now.’
‘Do you think so?’ Christine asked wistfully, knowing she was right.
They were past the worst bit of the climb now as the path levelled out and they paused to take in the view of the village in the distance. Smoke from chimneys below billowed to join the fluff of the clouds and it looked very much as if there might be more snow.
‘I think your dad’s still smoking on the sly but what can I do about it?’ Christine said. ‘It really is up to him. Would you have a word? He might take some notice of you.’
‘I’ll try but in the end he’ll do what he wants.’
They were interrupted by a shout from above them. Momentarily, Frank and Mike were out of view but suddenly Mike appeared running and skidding down the slope.
‘It’s Dad,’ he cried as he neared them. ‘We have to get help. He’s collapsed.’
Amy whipped her mobile out. ‘Do we need an ambulance?’
‘Of course we need a bloody ambulance.’
‘Fuck. There’s no signal … can you get one on yours?’
‘Shit, no.’
Ignoring her children’s appalling language, Christine was already rushing along the path to where Frank was now sitting on the frozen ground. Her first thought was a ridiculous one; he was wearing the brand new overcoat she had bought him which would be ruined.
He was breathing and trying to smile. Together, somehow, they got him to his feet and managed to get him to a conveniently placed bench, a bench with a little plaque on it in memory of a local man who apparently often sat at this spot to study the view. There was a faint dusting of snow on the bench and Christine brushed at it with her glove before sitting down beside him.
‘What is it, Mum?’ Amy asked anxiously.
‘Don’t panic,’ she said, seeing the fear in her daughter’s eyes. ‘He’ll be fine.’
But, as she caught his gasp, the ashen face, the look in his eyes, she knew in her heart that this time he would not.
‘Hang on, Dad,’ Amy was saying soothingly. ‘They’ll be here soon.’
Helplessly, Christine looked round at the silent scene before them. She could see Mike who had hared along and was very nearly back at the stile. The phone call for help would be made in minutes. Amy was squeezed on the bench now on the other side of her father, holding his hand and offering consoling words. Sitting there looking up at the sky as the first flurry of a fresh snowfall drifted down, Christine’s anxiety was replaced by a sudden ridiculous and totally unfounded exasperation.
‘Oh for God’s sake, it’s so typical of him,’ she wailed, stamping her cold feet in the boots and slapping her gloved hands together in a vain attempt to find some warmth. ‘Would you believe it, today of all days?’
PART TWO
Chapter Ten
Today, for the first time this year there was some warmth in the air. Birdsong accompanied the traffic noise this morning, a perky happy sound that surely heralded the onset of spring.
Amy chose to walk through the little park to the bus stop just for the joy of it. As parks go it wasn’t great but the spring flowers, bless them, were not allowing the slightly grim surroundings to disturb them. They were out in abundance, a riot of blues and yellows, and her pace quickened as she headed along the path. She was wearing her work heels and making a clicking sound as she walked thinking that now that spring was approaching she needed to get some new clothes; a couple of lighter-weight suits and some paler tights, for she considered it unprofessional to go bare-legged to the office, but nor did she feel entirely comfortable wearing trousers for work. Spring brought out the best and the worst of the English and she had just caught a glimpse of the worst; a middle-aged man wearing a vest, shorts, black socks and sandals, his legs painfully pale. She could not avoid a passing horrified glance at him.
‘Good morning.’ A woman smiled at her in passing but then morning sunshine and the promise of a lovely day did that to people. It made them aware of others suddenly in a way that was not always apparent in the depths of winter. What a buttoned-up race we are, she thought, with our heads constantly bowed in the rain and wind. It had turned out to be a warmer than average winter but that had meant rain and dull miserable grey days, clear crisp cold ones in short supply.
Amy had felt guilty that she was not able to spend more time with her mother and with that in mind she had applied for an admin job in a Preston department store and had what she thought was a good second interview. She had not mentioned it yet to her mother because she did not want to get her hopes up.
Christmas Day and the following morning keeping vigil by her father’s bedside had been desperately difficult for everybody but somehow they all pulled together and got through it. It killed the romance with Brian, though; just when she had started to have hopes of him, just when she had started to envisage a lifetime together, just when she had started to dare to make plans and more importantly just when she needed him the most, he let her down. It often took a crisis for people to reveal their true selves, although her own take on it had been to lose all semblance of the business-like exterior she normally presented to the world and in its place she became a blubbering wreck. Monique, on the contrary, lost her default helpless look and became a surprising tower of strength. In fact, just briefly, as Monique offered her a comforting little cuddle she felt a surprising affection towards her that she had never before experienced.
‘Sorry, I can’t cope with all this,’ Brian had said as they walked down the hospital corridor late on Christmas Day. Her father, his condition having worsened, had been moved to a small high-intensity ward hooked up to machines whilst the doctors did their bit. Her mother was being looked after by Mike and Monique and Amy had felt the desperate need to escape for a while. Christmas or no Christmas, life and sometimes death went along just the same in this place. There was a brightly decorated Christmas tree by the café and a surprising number of people milling around but as had just been proved, illness makes no allowance for special dates.
Her father had been brought in by ambulance and they had followed by car, hanging round for ages whilst he was processed and eventually being allowed up to the ward on the seventh floor.
‘Oh look, he’s got a lovely view,’ her mother said and they all nodded in agreement. The shock seemed to have deprived them of sensible conversation and on the journey in through treacherous roads covered in slushy snow they had talked a load of utter nonsense, none of which she could remember. Her father was now lying there quietly. On the way to hospital something had left him and Amy could not put her finger on what – it might have been hope. She was glad to escape the vigil for a while and in any case there were too many of them to sit round the bed; a nurse had kindly but firmly indicated as much.
‘I’m not good with hospitals,’ Brian went on, looking pale himself although she could only hazard a guess as to how she herself looked.
‘Neither am I,’ she said, the question answered as she caught a glimpse of herself in the hospital shop window. She looked a fright. Mike had rallied around and taken charge, dealing with everything, liaising with the medical staff and passing on the news gently to
them in a way that surprised her. The doctor, a very nice woman, had instinctively looked to him, which at any other time would have irritated the pants off her.
Mike was her brother and as she had explained to Brian they hadn’t always got on but just now, as with Monique, she felt an overwhelming fondness for him, a sisterly love that comforted her. She tried to tell him that but was too embarrassed to say it. It was not enough, though, for she needed the support of Brian, too. She was scared, afraid that her father was not going to make it and she needed this man beside her but she knew from his expression that he was going to desert her. It was just a question of when and she could not believe that he would be so crass as to do it now.
‘Cup of coffee or tea?’ he suggested nudging her towards the café. ‘You should eat something.’
She felt guilty at leaving her mother even if it was only for fifteen minutes but she needed the break and she sat down on an orange plastic chair as he went to get the coffee.
He came back with that and two mince pies. The coffee was scalding hot and the mince pies were cold, dusted with icing sugar.
‘Didn’t they offer to warm them up?’ she asked, a ridiculous question, for what the hell did it matter. They were inedible in any case but just now she would have been hard pressed to eat one of her mother’s delicious home-made ones. Her Christmas dinner was still sitting heavily in her stomach so, ignoring the mince pie, she took a tentative sip of the coffee.
‘I have things to do,’ Brian said, sipping his own and not even looking properly at her. He was wearing the sweater she had bought him, his leather jacket discarded over the back of the chair and she had a sudden desperate need to cuddle up to him, to be held firmly in his arms, to be told, true or not, that everything was going to be just fine. ‘If you don’t mind I’ll get myself back home. I feel a bit in the way here as if I’m intruding.’
Best Laid Plans Page 10