‘She hasn’t heard us sing,’ I commented.
‘True,’ said Fleur.
‘Shh,’ said Rose.
‘Followed by a writing exercise,’ said Mum. ‘Remember when you all used to keep diaries when you were teenagers? Have you still got them? I think they’re a great idea. A private place to let out all your secret thoughts and feelings. I remember you used to keep yours locked, Rose. Well, no one will have to read what you write tomorrow if you don’t want them to. Daniel will explain it all to you.’
Martha looked at her watch. ‘Time for tea, ladies.’
‘Is it?’ asked Mum and looked at hers. ‘So it is. OK. See you next time.’
The screen went blank and, though I’d felt the room was crowded earlier, now it seemed empty. Mum had been there with us and now she was gone.
‘Is that it?’ I asked.
Daniel appeared to be sending a text and, a moment later, three mobiles pinged.
I reached into my bag for my phone at the same time Fleur and Rose found theirs. Fleur and I laughed when we saw the message, and even Rose smiled as we read the text from Mum. ‘There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea.’ Henry James (1843–1916).
‘Martha was a stickler for tea at four,’ said Daniel, ‘and that day when we were recording, it was four o’clock.’
‘Mum liked her routines too,’ I said. ‘Morning tea at eight a.m., coffee at eleven.’
‘G and T, slice of lime not lemon at six,’ said Fleur. ‘Remember she used to call it a sundowner?’
‘I do,’ said Rose.
‘I could do with one now,’ said Fleur.
‘In the morning?’ asked Rose.
Fleur gave her a bored look.
‘So, any questions?’ asked Daniel.
‘Are you going to join us on the hike?’ asked Fleur.
‘I’d love to, but I’m only PA on this journey, not participant,’ he said, then handed us a bag and box each. ‘Trainers, fleeces for the walk. I trust I got the right sizes.’
I took my items and looked away from him. If I wasn’t careful, I’d go into perky mode. Men I fancied had that effect. I knew the signs – like suddenly the world seemed to buzz and be brighter and full of possibilities. I felt alive. I didn’t want Fleur or Rose to see it happen. They’d tease the hell out of me, so instead I went into my ‘I am so not interested in Daniel’ act. So cool. Who was I fooling? And anyway, it was a waste of time. He didn’t fancy me. Fleur was watching me carefully. I looked straight back at her. ‘You ready for this?’ I knew she hated exercising, or used to.
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Bring it on.’
‘What was the plan if it was pouring with rain?’ I asked Daniel as we put on our trainers, fleeces and scarves.
Daniel smiled. ‘She told me to find a gym and take you all there for a session on the running machine.’ He handed me three twenty-pound notes. ‘For your pub lunches, from the fund.’
‘Right, come on Dee, lead the way,’ said Fleur. ‘Compared to the first weekend with its colonics, this will be a walk in the park.’
‘Arf arf,’ I said, falling back into the familiar language of our childhood when someone made a joke.
Rose was already out the door, so we went to join her, then waved goodbye to Daniel, who headed off down towards the bay and Bell and Anchor. We took the route through the narrow lanes, past a small square with three-storey houses on the right and the Golden Sun pub on the left, then up towards the field to cross into the park and to get to Cremyll.
Luckily, the sky was blue and, though cold, it was dry. We climbed over the stile at the top of the village, and on to the path that crossed the sloped field leading to the woods. Rose marched ahead like she was on a mission.
‘What’s the hurry?’ Fleur called after her.
Rose turned back. ‘If we’re to get the most out of it, we need to speed up, as Martha said – get the heart and lungs going.’
‘Or we could amble and have a catch-up,’ said Fleur.
‘Or a bit of both,’ I added.
‘Thanks, but I’m going to walk on,’ Rose called back, and set off again at a pace.
Fleur smiled. ‘And there you have us,’ she said. ‘Rose forging ahead busy busy, me a lazy arse always looking for the easy way out, and you somewhere in the middle.’
We hurried to keep up with Rose. ‘Maybe. But I agree with Fleur, Rose. There are no rules to this.’
‘Fine,’ said Rose as we caught up with her. ‘You do it your way and I’ll do it mine.’
‘Do you ever chill out, Rose?’ Fleur asked.
‘Course I do. Actually, this is a treat for me – to get out in the country in the fresh air. Being in the city, I’m either at home, on the tube, in a taxi or at work, so I don’t mind this a bit. Also, I’m a naturally active person.’
‘I think you also need to take time to stand and stare, to take in the scenery,’ I said as Rose forged ahead again. I got the feeling that she wanted to be alone. Fleur and I let her go and fell into a comfortable pace of our own. I’d done the walk hundreds of times since I’d lived in the area, but the landscape never failed to lift my spirits. Down below, to our right, we could see the village of Kingsand, with its painted cottages, nestling in the bay. To our left and up the hill were fields, and straight in front were the woods leading to Mount Edgcumbe Park.
‘The sea will be on our right for the whole walk,’ I said as I indicated the view and coastline.
Fleur stopped and looked around. ‘It’s beautiful. I can see why you like this area so much, Dee. I’d forgotten how lovely it was.’
‘That’s why I don’t want to leave,’ I said, and I filled her in on what was happening with the house.
‘The market probably won’t pick up until the spring now,’ she said.
‘That’s what the estate agent said.’
Fleur knew a lot about property. It was how she’d made her money. Although flaky and unreliable on many levels, she had a good business head on her shoulders, and had got on the property ladder early after her first divorce had left her with a tidy sum. She’d bought two houses in London, done them up, sold them, and carried on that way for the best part of twenty years until now she had a handsome portfolio, her own management company, as well as a house in California and flat in Knightsbridge. She’d managed things well, so that someone else ran the office and did what she called the boring stuff, leaving her free to come and go as she pleased.
She hadn’t been so lucky when it came to men. Her first husband was a control freak who’d left her for a younger and more malleable woman; her second was an alcoholic playboy, Harvey, who almost destroyed her. She’d got into drugs, mainly cocaine, and drink. It was during those years that Rose and I had got the late-night phone calls, when she was out of her head and neither of us could reason with her. Dark days for her and for us. She spent time in the Priory drying out, getting clean, then she’d go back to Harvey like he was an addiction too, and the whole sad process would start again. Mum didn’t know the half of it, and Rose and I did our best to keep it that way. In the end, Harvey left her for a rich heiress and went to live in Miami. Fleur went to pieces and back to the Priory. Finally she did clean up, her nostrils were still intact, and she’d been single – as far as I knew – for the best part of eight years.
‘I’d lend you the money to buy your house if I had it in cash,’ said Fleur. ‘I know you’re good for it with our inheritance coming at the end of Mum’s list, but everything I’ve got is tied up in my properties or in bonds, and I doubt I could lay my hands on the amount you need without having to sell something.’
‘Oh, you mustn’t do that. I’ll see what the New Year brings … but thank you, that’s so kind. Even if you did have it to lend me, though, I wouldn’t want to borrow it, in case I couldn’t repay you.’ I looked ahead at Rose. ‘Until this year is over, nothing is guaranteed. We’re only on weekend two.’
I was touch
ed by her offer, but then Fleur had been more than generous since she’d become wealthy. At Christmas and birthdays before our fall-out, she’d sent me lavish presents: gorgeous jewellery, French perfumes, cashmere gloves and scarves. They were lovely presents to receive but I’d found it hard to know what to get her in return. On my low income, I often felt indebted, and that my presents were inadequate. She could buy what she wanted and had it all.
‘What could possibly stop us?’ asked Fleur. ‘I’m in for the duration of this. I’m loving having this extended time with Mum, even if it is on a recording, and I think Rose is committed for the same reason. But seriously, Dee, if it looks like you might lose your home, let me know and I’ll see if there’s anything I can do. If the worst comes to the worst, I could see if I could buy your house as an investment and you could pay me rent.’
I gave her arm a squeeze. I knew she meant well, but having my younger sister as my landlady wasn’t an option that I’d choose. I’d feel obliged to her. Hopefully it won’t come to that, I thought as we reached the woods. ‘So what about you? How’s the love life?’
She laughed. ‘What love life? Been there, done that. I find men either boring or they want too much or want to control me. I like being my own boss, no one telling me what to do, how to dress or behave.’
‘So, no men at all?’
‘I didn’t say that, just no one special.’ She looked wistful for a moment. ‘Truth be told, I don’t know what I want any more. All that romanticism about finding The One seems to have faded away in the light of experience.’
‘I know what you mean.’
‘But what about you? Any interesting men in the area lurking up on the cliffs?’
I shook my head. ‘Either too young, too stoned, too needy or too old.’
‘What about the chap who owns your house?’ asked Fleur.
‘Precisely. He owns my house, therefore has the potential to make me homeless. Not a great starting point for any relationship, is it?’
‘OK, then what about Daniel for you? He’s a handsome man,’ Fleur persisted.
I shrugged and wondered whether to confide just how attractive I found him. Past experience of Fleur not being trustworthy won, so I hesitated then said, ‘He is, but I want more than handsome … I’d have to get to know him better. We know hardly anything about him.’
‘So why don’t you do that? Find out who he is. Go for it. I think he’s just your type.’
‘Not really, no more than yours. Are you really not interested? As you say, he is a handsome man.’ I wanted to be doubly sure that I wasn’t going to have to compete with her, because I knew there would be no contest.
She shook her head. ‘All yours. You know me, I go for the bad boys, the ones with an edge and sense of danger. He seems to be a nice man. I’d get bored.’
‘Hey! What does that say about me then?’
‘No. Sorry! I didn’t mean you’re boring. He’s just not my type, but I could see him being yours. Look, I don’t know what I want. Sometimes I think it would be nice to meet someone, but I know I choose badly.’
‘So why not go for Daniel if you want a change from the bad boys?’
‘Give it up, Dee. I don’t feel the chemistry. And if it ain’t there, it ain’t there.’
I was reassured and relaxed into enjoying our walk. It felt good to be strolling along, catching up on our lost years. Fleur seemed to have calmed down since I’d last spent time with her, and was listening as well as talking. In previous years, she was a classic case of, ‘OK, enough about me. What about you? What do you think about me?’ I began to feel that maybe Mum’s grand plan wasn’t such a bad one after all. If only Rose would thaw a little. I could see her in the distance. She’d turned and was jogging back to us.
‘Here comes Miss Goody Two-Shoes,’ said Fleur.
‘Oh yes, we’re supposed to jog the last bit. Come on. Be fun. Last one to the pub has to get the first round in.’
*
‘So how’s it going for you so far?’ I asked Rose. We were in the pub at Cremyll, where Fleur and I were tucking into a ploughman’s lunch with a glass of wine. Rose had gone for grilled salmon, salad and water.
‘How’s what going for me?’ asked Rose, as she cut up a piece of tomato.
‘The quest. Weekend two.’
Rose pulled a face. ‘Different. At least no more sessions with Beverly.’
‘I’m enjoying it,’ said Fleur. ‘Sea, sky, my sisters’ company.’
Rose ignored her. ‘Dee, about your situation. I called Hugh on the walk this morning. How long ago did you move to Cornwall?’
‘Oh. About twenty-eight years ago.’
‘What year exactly?’
‘What does it matter?’
‘It might. Hugh said he thinks you might have an assured tenancy on your property.’
‘Meaning?’
‘That you’re a sitting tenant. This chap who wants to boot you out, can’t.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Hell, I should have thought of that!’ said Fleur. ‘Where’s my brain? Of course. You’ve been there so long, you must have rights.’
‘Would you like me to look into it?’ Rose asked.
‘Or I could,’ said Fleur. ‘I know more about property than you do, Rose.’
‘It doesn’t matter who knows what, or who’s the expert, the thing is, it’s worth looking into,’ said Rose. ‘And I am sure I know just as much about property as you do, Fleur – or at least Hugh does.’
Fleur looked put out. ‘Why do you always do that, Rose?’
‘Do what?’
‘Dismiss me like I haven’t got a brain. I’ve made my living from doing property.’
‘But you didn’t bring up the assured tenancy. I did,’ said Rose.
‘Look, it doesn’t matter who brought it up,’ I said. ‘Rose, I’m grateful, and I’ll look into it.’
‘But will you?’
‘What do you mean by that?’ This time, it was me who felt put out. I wasn’t sure if I wanted either of them taking over my affairs.
‘You know what you’re like. Mañana, mañana. Tomorrow, then it doesn’t get done.’
‘That’s not fair. You don’t know me at all. How can you say that?’
Rose sighed. ‘Because here you are at forty-nine and you don’t even own your own property. If you add up what you’ve wasted in rent, you’ve probably paid more than enough for a deposit on your own place.’
‘But I had my own place, or as good as, and the rent was low thanks to Mrs Harris.’
‘You must have always known your landlady was going to die sometime. Why didn’t you have a back-up plan?’
‘I don’t think that’s any of your business.’
‘So why don’t you have savings?’
‘I don’t have to defend my position to you. Maybe I don’t put the same value on possessions as you. There are more important things in life.’
‘I think we should change the subject,’ said Fleur. ‘Dee’s right. It’s her business, not ours.’
‘Yes and I am an adult, Rose. Not one of your children to be told what to do or what I should have done. Stop trying to control me.’
‘I wasn’t. I was trying to help. Don’t be so prickly.’
The cheek of her! I thought. ‘I don’t need your help.’
‘Don’t you?’
‘No. Back off, Rose. I’ll look into it. If it’s true that I have rights as a sitting tenant, then I’m sure I can find out just as well as you could.’
Rose gave a curt nod. ‘I was only trying to help.’
‘Take over, more like. Let me do it.’
‘Make sure you do then. You might find you’re in a stronger position than you thought. You have rights, and this Michael Harris chap can’t get rid of you quite so easily.’
‘I don’t want to fight him, go to court or anything.’
‘Just find out, will you? See what your options are.’
I saluted her. ‘Yes, sir.’
Rose sighed. ‘You don’t have to be like that. I’m just looking out for you.’
‘Well you don’t need to, and you’re being prickly now.’
Fleur popped a bit of cheese into her mouth. ‘Well, this is going well isn’t it?’
Fleur
Saturday 12 December, 2 p.m.
God, it was good to get out in the fresh air, blow some cobwebs away; I wish Rose would lighten up, though. She came down hard on Dee in the pub. Rose probably means well, but I could feel Dee squirming. Rose always was such a control freak, always telling us what we should be doing. I hate that word, ‘should’. OK, Dee could have got herself more sorted property-wise, but being down here, seeing how she lives, I get it. She’s created a real home. I like being there; it reminds me of our old house back in Hampstead. I miss that place, God, I do. Although I hadn’t lived there for years, it was where I grew up and I still felt it was my real home, a place to return to that was safe and familiar, then pff, it was gone, sold, and then pff, Mum gone too. I feel anchorless, lost at sea. What’s left? Uptight Rose and, well, there’s still Dee. I reckon we could be friends again. I hope so anyway.
Dee
Saturday 12 December, 2.30 p.m.
‘I feel more like a snooze than a dance class,’ said Fleur as we headed into the village hall for Zumba.
Looking around, I saw there were about fifteen people plus Rose, Fleur and me.
‘I’m looking forward to it. I like dance.’
‘Me too, after a few drinks. Can we go to the back? In case I can’t keep up.’
‘Good idea,’ I replied, since the other women in the group looked years younger than us and very fit.
Our teacher was a young, slim, dark girl called Phoebe. She was Mike and Bet at the pub’s daughter, so I knew her well. She waved hi to me.
After a few minutes, the music started up. A heady Egyptian track and soon we were gyrating with the rest of them. It felt good. After five minutes, it became Latin, at which Fleur was a natural. This is going to be good, I thought as I glanced over at Rose, who hadn’t quite got the steps but was giving it her all nonetheless.
The Kicking the Bucket List Page 12