by Nancy Barone
‘It’s beautiful,’ Connor said, squeezing my hand as if to pull me out of it. ‘Honey, are you okay?’
And I realised that my cheeks were wet.
‘Now that is the reaction I’ve dreamed of my entire career,’ the agent said with a smile. ‘Thank you, Mrs Pentire.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, eyeing Connor. ‘But I have a confession to make. It’s all my doing. We’re not the Pentires.’
‘Oh?’
‘I’m sorry. My mum lives next door. I lived here my entire life and hadn’t seen it since Mrs Pendennis died ten years ago.’
Her face fell. ‘Oh.’
‘But I really am interested in buying this cottage!’ I assured her. ‘And I have a large period property to sell.’
Her eyes shone with interest again. ‘Oh? Where?’
‘It’s above the cove. It’s called Smuggler’s Rest.’
She gasped. ‘You mean the five-bed detached at the end of Abbot’s Lane?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘I’ve always wanted to have a look inside! And it’s yours?’ She wanted to make sure.
‘Yes. Sorry for lying earlier, but when I realised someone else was coming to view Lavender Cottage, I panicked. I’m sorry,’ I said both to her and then turned to Connor, whose eyes shone with forgiveness as they caressed my face.
It took all my effort to drag my eyes away from him and back to her. ‘I do want this house. Truly I do. I just need to sell mine first.’
She studied me, confused. ‘You have a five-bed detached above Wyllow Cove and you want a three-bed cottage that needs work?’
I couldn’t blame her. If I didn’t know me, I’d have struggled to understand as well. But continuing to stay where I’d lived with Neil was not an option. I wanted somewhere I could call my own. And what better place than my old, secret haven, the place I’d always run to for protection?
‘Downsizing and rebuilding a new life,’ I explained cheerily.
She reached into her bag and gave us a card each. ‘Okay, then, call me and we’ll set a date for next week.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, then stopped. ‘What if the Pentires reschedule?’
She shrugged. ‘You’ll just have to make an offer the estate can’t refuse.’
Easier said than done. ‘Okay. Thank you.’
After we said our goodbyes and watched her drive off practically singing ‘We’re in the Money’, Connor stood in silence, staring at what to him could only look like a ramshackle dump.
‘Oh, all right,’ I said. ‘I apologise. I should have never passed you off as my husband. I could see it in her eyes that she didn’t believe me for one minute.’
‘Of course she did. Why wouldn’t she?’
For the simple reason that you’re almost seven years younger? I wanted to say, but kept my mouth shut.
He chuckled, shaking his head. ‘Hell, even I almost believed you for a minute. Although, I have to say I can see why you love it so much.’
‘Fat lot it does me,’ I mumbled sadly. ‘If the Pentires offer before I can, I’ll have lost it forever.’
‘Nat, if this is what you want, you should go for it.’
‘How? I need the space for Sarah and the girls and my mother now, too. I don’t know that I can sell the bloody place anymore.’
‘Nat,’ he said softly. ‘I don’t know a lot of people who would have shouldered the burden of taking three generations under their roof. Isn’t it time to start thinking about yourself, too?’
‘But they’re my family.’
‘And that’s great that you could do that. But what about you? I keep asking you, what do you want?’
I shrugged. ‘It’s not that simple, Connor. Too many things have to happen.’
‘Like what?’
I eyed him. ‘Well, my sister needs to sort herself out with her work. She’s always away and I’m not leaving the girls in the hands of some nanny who slags my sister off for being rich.’
His face softened. ‘Maybe she will sort herself out.’
‘And Sarah – she needs me right now.’
‘The cottage has three bedrooms; there’s room for her. And the minute you put the house up for sale, it’ll fly off the shelf.’
‘Really, you think so?’
‘Of course! Now that you’ve got rid of every Tam… what’s your ex’s surname again?’
I grinned. ‘Tamblynn-Lobb.’
‘That’s it. Without all that crap the house really shines. I’ll help you with anything that needs DIYing, and Bob’s your uncle.’
I put my hands to my face. ‘You’d do that for me?’
‘Nat, who wouldn’t? You’re a lovely girl and it’s time you had your share of freedom.’
What a gem this man was. And now for the painful part. Oh, my aching heart! ‘And… you wouldn’t mind cutting the lease short, in case?’
‘Nat, of course not. You deserve Lavender Cottage.’
I thought about it. Sad that he was all too happy to see the back of me, because I knew that I would miss having him around, with those twinkling eyes and that hearty laugh that warmed me from my toes up, not excluding some very particular areas. Ah, if he only knew!
But one thing was sure. ‘You know what, Connor? You’re right. After what I’ve put up with from Neil all these years, I do deserve to be happy in my own little place that doesn’t reek of old money and snobbery.’
‘That’s my girl! You go for it. I’ll help you any way I can.’
‘Oh, Connor, thank you, I can’t thank you enough for giving me a push,’ I said and began to fumble in my bag for the key to Mum’s front door. If only I really was his girl.
Inside Mum’s cottage, if at first glance it looked exactly like the last time I was there, after about two minutes of opening drawers and cupboards, the alarm bells began to go off as I soon discovered that behind the apparently normal home, behind cabinet doors were items that didn’t belong there. Stockings in the cutlery drawer, shoes in the fridge along with what was once food, newspapers and flyers. In the microwave there was a tub of melted ice cream and a pair of bed socks, and on the windowsill she had neatly stacked her underwear, which I snatched and stuffed into my bag before Connor could see them.
What the heck was going on? Mum had always run a very tight and squeaky-clean ship, making us leave our coats and shoes in the porch so as not to bring street dirt inside. Everything in the house had to be in its place, and every time a mug was used it would have to be washed, dried and put away immediately.
Dad would have to shower in the bathroom in the cellar where she kept his clean clothes, and only then would he be allowed up inside the house.
And so this? This was not my mother’s usual behaviour. Every room was screaming that something was definitely wrong with her and that it hadn’t just been a side effect or a mere isolated moment. What did it mean? Had she just given up? Or worse, had she forgotten she’d left it like this? Or had squatters taken her home over in her absence? That would have been the best-case scenario, but deep down, I knew what was most probable. Mum’s mental health was failing her.
Fingers of fear licked at my insides, spreading up into my lungs as shock kicked in immediately, and all I could do was lean against the counter for support, perfectly still and useless, in the middle of the home I’d grown up in and that had always been spotless.
‘Nat? What is it?’ Connor said as he came into the kitchen.
My knees shaking, I sat down. ‘Connor, would you mind? I need you to have a good look around.’
‘Of course. What am I looking for?’
I lifted my hands helplessly, trying not to shake. ‘Whatever you want. You won’t find it where it should be. How did I not notice this before?’
He climbed the stairs as, with a huge sigh, I turned to make some tea and scrubbed two mugs, all the while wondering what I was going to do about this. When Connor returned from his recon, he sat opposite me and took a sip of his tea, his eyes never leaving mine.
‘I’m so sorry, Nat…’
‘It’s not just old age, is it? Oh, Connor, she has always been super neat, and now this?’
He pursed his lips. ‘You should have her run some tests.’
‘What do you think it could be?’
‘It could be anything. I’d rule out depression, though. She’s pretty much always chipper. Maybe something neurological?’
I put my head in my hands. ‘But she’s only seventy. And fit!’
Connor put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Let’s not jump the gun, Nat. Just take her in tomorrow morning. It could be something much less serious. My mum had a mini-stroke.’
‘Oh, Connor, I’m sorry.’
He shrugged. ‘After a couple of days in hospital she was up and at ’em again.’
And then a thought. ‘Oh God, what if it’s dementia? Or Alzheimer’s?’ I dropped my head in my hands, already seeing a dismal future for us. ‘She’s only got me. Yolanda hardly has time for her own children. How am I going to tell her? How am I going to be enough for my mum?’
‘Easy, Nat. There’s no point in worrying yourself sick with all sorts of horrible thoughts. Tomorrow I’ll keep the girls while you bring her in for some tests. And then you can give your sister more information. How does that sound?’
Not removing my face from my hands, I nodded, mumbling a muffled ‘Okay.’
‘Here, chin up,’ he said, taking my wrists and looking into my eyes. ‘Everything’s gonna be all right, okay? I’m here.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, knowing it had been just words, and that he couldn’t make the problem go away, but still.
I sat at the table, staring out the window into the front garden and, beyond it, the sea. I was utterly unable to think anymore. And then, feeling like I was a hundred years old, I dragged myself to my feet, reaching for a sponge.
Connor, too, rolled up his sleeves. ‘Right. I think I’ve still got a roll of bin liners in my Jeep from when I moved out of my own place. Be right back.’
Bin liners? We needed a skip. How could she live like this? Did no part of her scream out in protest? Or, my God, was that part of her disappearing? Would she never be the same again?
When Connor came back inside, he helped me dispose of all that shouldn’t have been there, including stacks and stacks of TV magazines and old newspapers, not to mention boxes of biscuits and porridge that were at least six months old. Was that when it had all started? Because Mum would constantly check her cupboards for something that was nearing its sell-by date and chuck it out.
Connor held the bag open as I stood on tiptoe, and in went pretty much all of the contents of the food cupboards, while I retrieved rotting items of clothing from inside the washing machine, refrigerator and oven, and at every new quaking discovery, I forced myself not to shake my head in dismay, but inside I was panicking. And chastising myself.
How could I have not seen what was going on? Granted, Mum was fit and she had her own life with all her friends coming around. But none of us had delved into her life and home enough to see the horror that was happening under the surface of afternoon mugs of tea and biscuits. If I had deigned to have a closer look and delve under the surface of All is Well, I’d have seen that, alas, it was anything but that.
And I’d been so easily fooled with a smile or one of her usual wisecracks about minding my own business, and the likes of now that I was divorced, was I actually that bored that I had to go through her cupboards for amusement?
So I’d maintained a certain distance, or a certain discretion if you will. She had always hated me going through her cupboards or the refrigerator even when I lived there as a child, so no surprise that it annoyed her particularly after I’d moved out. But this… I had no idea.
I went upstairs to go through the bedrooms and removed the coverlets to find that she had no sheets on the bed, despite having an entire wardrobe full of new and unused ones. I stripped all three beds of their covers and pillows and divided the bin liners between a Wash pile and a Toss pile, feeling like the whole world was sitting on my shoulders.
After that, I left the mattresses bare and the drawers and cupboards ajar to air, leaving the bathroom for another day. We even swept and washed the floors and I sprinkled what was left of the baking soda before I hoovered the carpets.
After Connor and I cleaned as much as we could of the house, we moved down the narrow staircase and back to the living room, which looked a lot better.
‘Thank you, Connor, for letting yourself get sucked into this. You could’ve just dropped me off but instead you stayed and—’
‘It’s okay, Nat. It’s been a long afternoon. Let’s go home now.’
I nodded and with a last, longing look, closed the front door and turned the key. The rest would have to wait. What was supposed to have been any other day had turned out to be pretty rubbish, and I appreciated having someone by my side, even though I knew that my troubles were only just starting.
When we got home, I apologised to Neil for taking so long and explained about the mess in the cottage, and he shook his head.
‘The evidence is there. I’m so sorry, Nat, but it’s going to be an uphill battle from here on, whatever it is.’
Didn’t I know it.
*
The next day Sarah and Connor stayed with the girls while Neil drove Mum and me to Truro to see his friend Dr Simpson, a specialist in neurological disorders of the elderly.
Mum sat in the front, and I reached forward to hold her shoulder in a gesture of comfort.
‘Will you stop poking me, Nat?’ she suddenly said, then turned to Neil. ‘Your wife is always so clingy, so needy. Why don’ you give her a good—’
‘Mum!’ I groaned.
Neil looked at me in the rear-view mirror. ‘I’d be delighted to, Mum, but she won’t have me. Could you maybe put in a good word for me?’
‘I would, Neil, but she’s busy a-shaggin’ someone else these days.’
‘Bloody hell!’ we both swore as he swerved just in time to avoid a bollard.
‘…every night and every day, those two are at it,’ she continued. ‘I hardly ever see them anymore.’
‘That is so not true!’ I said, but stopped. Enough. I didn’t need to justify myself. I was my own woman now, whether these two liked it or not.
When we finally got to the hospital, I helped my mother out of the car and into the wheelchair. At the door, she squeezed my hand with incredible force. To think that she had to go and break her ankle to come and spend some time with us. And that if I hadn’t convinced her to do so, I would have never known, except perhaps for a smarmy Mrs Locke, that my mum was in this shape.
Dr Simpson had a private chat with us first and then with Mum on her own, after which he decided to run a few tests, and all the while I was waiting I couldn’t help but pace up and down the long corridors.
‘Nat, you’re going to bore a trench into the floor. Come and sit down,’ Neil said.
I knew he was right, of course, but couldn’t bring myself to stop. When had all this started? Had it happened before and I’d never noticed? What a terrible, terrible daughter I was. Mrs Locke was right to hate me. God knows I had never had the relationship my mum and Yolanda had, and I resented her for it, but never, ever, had I wanted my mother to be ill. I swallowed and sat down next to Neil. Good old Neil, boring and sturdy. He, too, loved Mum. And I’d also resented the fact that they got along better than I did with either of them. So I guess I was the problem.
Maybe that was it. I was the odd one out. I was the reason that Mum never loved me as much as she loved Yolanda, and I was the reason Neil had cheated on me. I pushed people away. I didn’t mean to. I had merely been trying to stand up for myself after years of getting the slack off everyone. For years I’d practically slaved for him, and when I hoped to have some kindness in return and didn’t get it, I made my stand. I guessed it was time to come off that stand now, for Mum’s sake.
‘So what happens now?’ I asked Dr Simpson as he ush
ered us back in. Mum looked tired and drawn, and I knew she couldn’t wait to get out of there.
‘She’ll stay for the night, and we’ll run some more tests tomorrow.’
I nodded. ‘Thank you, Dr Simpson.’
After a few more helpful tips, he let us out, patting Neil on the back.
When he’d closed the door and we were alone in the corridor, I turned to Neil. ‘I’m going to call Sarah to let her know what to do for the night with the girls. They’ll be worried.’
‘Nat – there’s no need for you to stay. They have top-notch nurses doing the rounds constantly,’ he answered.
‘No, I want to stay. I’ll wait in the visitors’ lounge.’
‘No, Nat, they won’t allow that. Now let me take you home. You’re much more useful to the girls than to Mum right now.’
I wished he’d stop calling her that. But for once, I kept quiet. He did love her. I knew that. It was me he had stopped loving.
‘Nat?’ he asked quietly. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘What?’
‘How are you?’
‘I’m worried sick, of course. And I’m dreading telling Yolanda whatever is wrong with Mum.’
‘No, I meant… how are you? Are you happy? Besides this, I mean?’
‘Happy?’ I echoed.
‘With your life, the way it’s turned out?’
Did he mean was I happy that he’d cheated on me? And he asked me this now? As I was trying to understand where he was going with this, my mobile rang. It was Connor.
‘Sorry, I have to take this,’ I said as I jumped to my feet and began pacing down the hallway again.
‘Nat? How is she?’
‘They’re running some tests. She’ll be here overnight.’
‘Okay. I’ll come and get you then.’
‘No need. Neil is still here; he’ll drive me back.’
‘Okay. I’ll keep your dinner warm for you.’
‘Thanks. How are the girls?’
‘Sarah and I have just put them to bed. You’ve got a really good daughter, Nat.’
I smiled into my mobile. ‘Thank you, Connor. Sarah is an amazing girl. I’ll see you in a bit.’