by Kate Field
Bea took two folding chairs from the boot of the car and insisted that Mim sat on one. Mim felt like the Queen as baskets of delicacies were brought forward for her delight: sandwiches, quiche, mini-pasties, fruit… Mrs Dennis had excelled herself, as Bea was first to admit. There was even a bottle of Champagne to wash it all down. Mim lolled in her chair, feeling pleasantly drowsy after the food and drink, breathing in the sea air, and she thanked all of her lucky stars for bringing her here.
‘Time for cake,’ Lia said, clapping her hands and waking everyone up after the feast. She dashed to the car and came back carrying a large white cake box. She grinned at Mim. ‘Are you ready for this? Ta da!’
She pulled away the lid and the sides of the box, and Mim laughed. It was the best cake she’d ever seen. It had been decorated with blue-green icing, rising in peaks to look like waves, and in the centre, there was a figure of a mermaid with coils of auburn hair spreading across the cake.
‘You do love it, don’t you?’ Lia asked.
‘It’s perfect.’ Mim leant across and gave Lia a hug – a tentative, awkward one, because she still wasn’t used to positive gestures like that, but it felt absolutely the right thing to do.
‘Let me light the candles and you can make a wish.’ Lia produced a box of matches. ‘Are you ready? You’ll need to be quick before the wind blows the candles out for you.’
Mim nodded. ‘I’m ready.’
Lia lit the candles and Mim took a deep breath and blew them all out. Her wish hadn’t needed any thought at all. She had somewhere to live, a job, and a group of friends. What more could she possibly want? Her only wish was that her present situation would last forever.
The cake was delicious, but it wasn’t the last surprise of the day. While Bea poured out tea, Lia went to the car again and came back with two gift-wrapped parcels.
‘It’s time for presents,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry there are only two. I suggested lots of other ideas but Mummy said you were too stubborn to accept them.’
‘Oh Lia,’ Bea said, shaking her head. ‘You weren’t supposed to repeat that.’ She smiled at Mim. ‘It was meant in the kindest way, my dear. It’s true, though, isn’t it?’
‘Yes it is, and I’m not sure I should even accept these. You really shouldn’t have.’
‘Oh pooh, never mind that nonsense. You’ll soon see it isn’t much, and is more for our benefit than yours.’ Mim knew better than to believe that. Bea’s idea of ‘not much’ was very different to hers. ‘Open the small one first. That’s a joint present from all of us.’
Bea passed over a rectangular shaped parcel. Mim pulled off the bows, ribbons and foil wrapping paper to reveal a box containing a mobile telephone. Bea held up her hand to silence Mim.
‘I won’t hear a word of objection, so don’t even contemplate it,’ Bea said. ‘We were frugal and didn’t buy the top of the range model. The phone is registered to you and all the charges are taken care of for the next twelve months while you get yourself back on your feet.’
‘You really shouldn’t have,’ Mim said again, but already she was opening the box and feeling the weight of the phone in her hand. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed having one over the last few months. She felt normal again, like she’d taken a step towards civilisation and away from being the homeless woman in the car. ‘Thank you. I don’t see how this benefits you, though.’
‘Now we can get in touch with you whenever we like. It’s highly inconvenient having to trail down here if we need you, or risk life and limb leaping in front of your car.’
‘You never need me,’ Mim protested. ‘You’re not keeping up your end of the bargain at all.’
‘That will change now, and you can begin by driving me back to the house once you’ve opened Corin’s present. He sends his apologies for missing the day, but he’s leading a Duke of Edinburgh expedition this week and couldn’t get away.’
Bea held out the other parcel. It was also rectangular, but larger and looked as if it had been wrapped in a hurry. There were no bows and ribbons, and bits of Sellotape were peeling off. It definitely had a Corin look about it.
‘Do you think Dickens wrapped it for him?’ Lia asked, inspecting the parcel critically. ‘It’s hard to imagine he could have done a worse job.’
‘I thought the phone was from all of you?’ Mim said. ‘I didn’t need a second present as well.’
‘Oh, the phone wasn’t from Corin.’ Bea smiled. ‘He likes to go his own way.’ She sighed as Mim pulled off the wrapping paper. ‘Not always the most appropriate way. I wish he’d asked me. I expect you’d have preferred a juicy novel, wouldn’t you?’
Mim looked at the two brand new books in her hand: one a hardback, the other a paperback, both promising gripping accounts of feats of bravery and endurance. She’d rather have these than a novel any day. She folded the paper over them again to keep them clean.
‘People often ask me why he’s thirty-five and still single,’ Lia said. She pointed at the parcel that Mim was still clutching in her hands. ‘We don’t need any further explanation, do we?’ She picked up the mobile phone that had fallen off Mim’s knee. ‘Do you need any help with this? I could help you set it up and show you how to use it.’
‘You’re all right, thanks,’ Mim said, grinning. ‘I’m thirty-four, not ninety-four. I’ve had a phone before.’
Lia stayed behind to check on progress with the caravans while Mim drove the car back to the house. She helped Bea carry the picnic baskets into the kitchen.
‘Shall I load the dishwasher?’ Mim asked.
‘No, dear, Mrs Dennis can… Actually, Mim, why not? We can have a chat while you’re doing it, as there’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss.’
That sounded ominous. Mim emptied the plates into the bin and started to fill the dishwasher, waiting for Bea to continue.
‘Now, I think you said you’d worked in the hotel for ten years, is that right?’ Bea asked.
‘Yes.’ Mim looked up. She hadn’t been expecting that question. ‘It would have been eleven in May if it had stayed open.’ And if Gordon had still been alive. It was impossible not to miss him today, even with the surprise birthday celebrations.
‘And you were busy there?’
‘The occupancy rate varied but we were trying to get it up.’
‘No, I mean you, not the hotel,’ Bea corrected herself. ‘You had a full-time job, with a decent wage?’
‘Well, yes…’ Mim filled the sink with hot water so she could wash the Champagne glasses.
‘Only, I’m struggling to understand,’ Bea pressed on. ‘You had a good job for ten years and you’re the least extravagant person I know. So how did you come out of it with no savings and no assets other than a battered old car? Not even a mobile phone! Surely you were entitled to a redundancy payment when your employment ended?’
Mim rinsed the glass she was washing and set it down on the draining board. She turned to Bea, soap suds dripping from her hands.
‘I wasn’t entitled to a payment because I never actually had an employment contract.’ She wiped her hands on her jeans. ‘Most of the money I should have received as a wage was ploughed back into the business.’
It sounded stupid when she gave the facts like that, baldly and without any context; she knew that even before seeing the shocked expression on Bea’s face.
‘Oh Mim.’ Bea came over and studied her face. ‘How did that happen? This man – Gordon, did you say? – did he take advantage of you?’
‘No!’ Mim was appalled. Gordon had taken nothing and given her everything. ‘He was the dearest, kindest man I’ve ever met. He saved me. That hotel was the closest thing to a home I’ve known, and I was glad to give every penny and every minute I had to keep it going.’
And now the tears that she’d bottled up for so long poured out of her. She hadn’t cried when Gordon died because she’d had to carry on and put on a front for the guests. She hadn’t cried when she’d locked the door of the h
otel for the last time because she wouldn’t give his daughter the satisfaction of seeing her pain. But now her grief wouldn’t be silenced and when Bea gathered her in her arms, Mim sobbed until she was exhausted.
Chapter Thirteen
Bea didn’t waste any time in proving how useful it was for Mim to have a phone. The day after Mim’s birthday, she sent her a text, booking Mim to take her and Bill to Exeter airport the following week.
‘It’s a last-minute break for our wedding anniversary,’ Bea explained, when Mim called in at Vennhallow to find out the details. ‘Thirty-nine years. Can you believe I’ve put up with the old devil for so long?’ She squeezed Bill’s hand, with obvious devotion. ‘We weren’t going to bother, but it hasn’t been the easiest year and at least we don’t have to worry about what Lia will get up to, now you and Corin are here to look after her.’
‘Me? I don’t know what I can do about Lia,’ Mim said. She didn’t mind doing the airport run, but babysitting a twenty-five-year-old seemed unnecessary. She couldn’t imagine anyone stopping Lia once she set her mind on something.
‘Hmm, it will be tricky with you in the caravan,’ Bill said, stroking his moustache. ‘I’ve had an idea. Why don’t you stay here at the house while we’re away? You two girls could keep each other company. That’s more like it, eh?’
Mim gave him a suspicious look. He wasn’t going to win an Oscar for his acting skills.
‘Are you still trying to persuade me to move in here?’ she asked. ‘I really am happy in the caravan. It’s not as bad as you all think. And now the weather is improving, it’s hardly cold at all,’ she added, before Bea could use that argument against her again.
‘Of course you want to stay in the caravan,’ Bea said. ‘It’s your space.’ She sighed. ‘But it would put our mind at rest if you could move in with Lia just while we’re away. It would give Bill one less thing to worry about.’
How could Mim refuse when Bea pulled the health card? And really, it would be as good as a holiday for her to be staying in that gorgeous spare room again.
So, after driving them to the airport the following week, Mim moved her things into Vennhallow.
Any illusion that she was in charge of looking after Lia vanished within an hour. Lia had plans and Mim had no choice but to go along with them. During the day, they continued to work on the caravans, and it was exciting to see the coloured paint being applied to the first one. Bobby showed them what to do, and they all took a turn at spraying the top coat until the old caravan was transformed into a glossy, shell-pink home. In the evening, Lia cooked surprisingly delicious meals, and then they settled down to some pampering. Mim had never experienced anything like it. Her face was scrubbed, polished, and stretched with a mask, her hair was given a deep conditioning treatment, and Lia painted her nails – against Mim’s better judgement, having seen what a mess she had made with the spray paint. Mim had never had the money for indulgences like this and loved every minute of it.
Wednesday would be Mim’s final free evening at the house with Lia before she had to return to work at the Boat. Lia announced that they were having a pyjama party, which was a new concept to Mim but apparently involved the pair of them lying on the sofa wearing pyjamas and watching a film. Wine and chocolate were also mentioned. What was there to dislike about that? Lia lit the fire – to Mim’s horror, as she was terrified the house would burn down on her watch – and brought Mim a fluffy cardigan and slipper boots to compensate for her thin pyjamas. Then they snuggled into the sofa, wrapped in blankets, and watched the film Lia had chosen.
The romantic story wasn’t Mim’s cup of tea, but by the time an hour had passed, and she’d drunk a couple of glasses, she was warming to the story, so it was irritating when the door opened and Corin walked in, followed by Dickens. Lia shrieked and slopped wine all over her blanket.
‘You are such an idiot!’ she said, jumping up and tripping over the blanket, so she landed on her knees on the floor. ‘I thought I was literally going to die of a massive heart attack. What are you doing here? I locked the door. Or I think I did.’
‘You did.’ Corin held out his hand and yanked her back onto her feet. ‘But it doesn’t tend to stop someone who also has a key.’
‘You had no right—’ Lia stopped, and Mim noticed for the first time that Bobby was standing behind Corin. Lia smoothed down her hair. ‘You could have rung the bell.’
‘We did. There was no answer. You were obviously too engrossed in whatever’s going on here.’
‘It’s a pyjama party,’ Mim said, deciding that Lia could do with some support. ‘Isn’t it obvious? You’ve not made much effort, have you?’
Corin was wearing his usual outfit of old jeans and a jumper. He looked Mim up and down, his eyes lingering on her hair, which for once was falling loosely around her shoulders. He smiled.
‘My invitation must have gone missing. We’ll have to stick to our plan to spend the evening in the Boat.’ He put some papers on the coffee table. ‘Olly has sent over the paperwork for the charity. I thought we could all sign it while Bobby’s here to act as a witness.’
Lia signed where he indicated and Corin held out his pen to Mim.
‘Your turn.’
‘To be a witness?’ Mim asked. ‘I thought you said Bobby was doing that.’
‘No, you’re signing as trustee of the charity.’ Corin looked from Mim to Lia. ‘Didn’t you know? Lia was supposed to have asked you.’
‘Sorry, darling.’ Lia grimaced at Mim. ’I was caught up in the work at the caravans and forgot about the boring legal bit. You, me, and Corin are the trustees. That’s okay, isn’t it?’
Was it okay? Mim had no idea what it involved and wasn’t keen to sign anything official without being clear what she was committing to. Corin must have sensed her hesitation.
‘Sorry, I thought you’d already agreed,’ he said. ‘We won’t spring this on you. I’ll print out some information for you about what it involves. We need to carry out the police check as well.’
‘Police check?’ Mim stood up and glared at him. ‘What are you suggesting? I’ve never been in trouble with the police. Just because I was brought up in care—’
Corin shook his head.
‘We all need police checks. It’s a legal requirement, not an accusation. There’s a declaration to complete too.’ He stopped talking but didn’t move, other than to rub the back of his neck with his finger, making the ends of his hair stick out even more. Mim watched him suspiciously, wondering what was coming next.
‘Is that everything?’ Lia asked. ‘We’re trying to watch a film.’
‘While we’re here, would you mind looking for the guarantee documents for the ride-on mower for Bobby?’ Corin replied. ‘They should be in the filing cabinet in the study.’
‘Do you need them right this minute?’
‘Tomorrow will be okay,’ Bobby said.
‘Why not now?’ Corin said. ‘Go on. It will only take a minute. Bobby will come with you to check it’s the right thing.’
‘Because I can’t be trusted to read a piece of paper,’ Lia grumbled, but she headed out of the room, Bobby trailing behind.
‘You need to brush up your acting skills,’ Mim said, when she was alone with Corin. She smiled, relieved that his obvious discomfort was only about this and nothing to do with her. ‘That was the most obvious piece of matchmaking I’ve ever seen.’
‘Matchmaking? Between Bobby and Lia?’ He looked astonished at the suggestion. ‘I really don’t think so.’
‘Why not? Is he not good enough for her?’
If anything, Corin looked even more astonished.
‘Quite the opposite. I wouldn’t wish her on him. She’d talk him to death. Literally,’ he added with a smile, which Mim couldn’t help returning. ‘I did send them away on purpose, though. Mum has asked me to speak to you.’
‘Has she?’ Mim sat down again, disturbing Dickens who had settled down on her blanket. ‘Should I be worried? Have I done s
omething wrong?’
‘It’s nothing like that.’ Corin prowled round the room. ‘That would have been an easier conversation.’ He stopped and perched on the arm of a sofa on the other side of the fireplace to Mim. ‘It’s about the hotel you used to work at.’
‘What’s happened?’ Mim leant forward in her seat. ‘Is it bad news? Has it been knocked down? I thought the building was just being converted.’
She dreaded the answer; it would be devastating to hear that the closest thing to a home she’d known no longer existed. Corin shook his head.
‘Nothing like that. That would have been an easier conversation too.’ He picked at a loose thread on the sofa, not looking at Mim while he spoke. ‘You told Mum that you’d contributed towards the running of the hotel, but you didn’t inherit a share on Gordon’s death. Mum asked Olly to look into whether you could challenge that.’
Mim didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. She was too dumbfounded. Why had Bea done that, without even discussing it with her? What if Gordon’s daughter, Yvonne, found out, and started her accusations again? If she thought Mim was challenging the will, it would prove all the horrible things she’d said about her over the last ten years.
Corin ploughed on, rushing through the words as if he couldn’t wait to get rid of them.
‘Apparently, if you can say you were living as husband and wife with Gordon for at least two years, you might be able to contest the will.’
Mim stood up so quickly that Dickens rolled off the sofa.
‘You want me to lie?’ she said, her voice wobbling. She had thought these people were her friends; how could they so wholly misjudge her? ‘Do you all think so badly of me? That I’d do anything for money?’
‘No.’ Corin stood up and walked towards her. ‘No one suggested you should lie. Look, we’re not making any judgement. Your relationships are your own concern. But Mum described how devastated you were the other day talking about Gordon … and it’s not normal to put money into a business that isn’t yours unless there’s a good reason…’