by Lisa Hill
Louise could easily get lost in those fields today.
Jude placed the tissues in front of Louise.
‘Thank you,’ Louise said, taking one.
Both women looked on at her sympathetically but said nothing. The silence was horrible.
‘Have you two had some lessons in counselling,’ Louise said, finally unable to bear the silence any longer.
‘I guess we know from experience that you’ll speak when you’re ready,’ Jude said, cocking her head sympathetically.
Louise shook her head. ‘Knowing everything you went through with Phil, I really have nothing to complain about, Jude.’ She closed her eyes and allowed warm tears to finally escape her eyelids and spill over her cheeks. She wiped them away with her tissue.
‘Getting up before the lark every morning, serving moaning biddies all day and raising a family on top of that, I’d say you’d have every right to complain.’
Louise opened her eyes to see Lottie leaning forward, arms crossed, looking ready to give her a rousing lecture on feminism.
Louise found herself shaking her head again. ‘It’s not like that, really. Johnnie is as busy as me.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Lottie leaned back in her chair and crossed her denim clad legs. ‘I’ve seen him, shooting the breeze with customers, filling up a few shelves, finishing the crossword when it’s quiet; I don’t think I’ve ever seen him pick up as much as a tea towel in your tearooms.’
‘You’ll have to forgive Lottie,’ Jude chipped in. ‘It’s as if she fell out of the feminist tree last year and hit her head on every branch on the way down. Before then she didn’t know the meaning of the word, did you Lottie?’
Louise watched Jude shoot Lottie a warning look.
‘I’m not suggesting Louise leaves Johnnie; I am merely suggesting a redress of responsibilities, installing some equilibrium to the work/life balance, shall we say.’
‘Or put that another way, what she’s politely trying to tell you is that, you need to tell Johnnie to buck his ideas up,’ said Jude.
Louise began to laugh. Tears of frustration turning to tears of joy that someone actually got how she was feeling; she wasn’t going mad, she was just feeling used and neglected and she wasn’t the first woman in the world to feel like it!
All three women started laughing and Louise realised that this was another aspect of her life that was missing; friendship. Socialising, getting out from the four walls of the stores.
‘Oh, I’m so glad I came to see you now, I thought I was losing the plot! Since this whole new development thing has blown up, Johnnie’s been so involved with VOCAB and he was driving me mad before that. He gets so engrossed with his own projects, like catering for weddings, he forgets that we still have a thriving business to run.’
‘So, do you think starting up your own cake decorating business is a good idea?’ Jude asked, almost wincing.
‘Don’t listen to her!’ Lottie boomed.
Jude scowled at Lottie.
‘Look,’ Lottie spoke to Jude as if Louise wasn’t there. ‘Johnnie’s busy doing his own thing, why shouldn’t Louise?’
‘Because they’ve got a business to run?’
‘Okay, did anyone say to you last year, when Phil lost his job, “Oh, better give up the midwife training, Jude, you need to focus on earning more money.”? Or did we encourage you to do both and help you with childcare and school runs?’
‘You have an answer for everything, Lottie Hardwicke!’
Louise laughed. ‘You two are like sisters.’
Jude and Lottie started giggling.
‘We are,’ said Jude, ‘she’s definitely the big sister and invariably right, although I hate to admit it.’
‘Well, that settles that then,’ said Lottie, picking up her pen. ‘We’ll put you down for a stall.’
‘How much will that be?’ Louise asked.
‘Nothing to you, not when the stores are providing ice creams.’
‘Are we?’
Lottie looked up. ‘Yes, Johnnie agreed it, you always do.’
Louise nodded, feeling deflated. ‘I know, but it would have been nice of him to have mentioned it to me.’ Louise swallowed hard, trying to push back down the feeling of resentment creeping back up in her again. ‘Can I ask you something, Lottie?’
‘Go on.’
Louise breathed in deeply, not really wanting to vocalise her thoughts. ‘What made you throw Drew out?’
Lottie laughed. ‘It was silly really, it was lots of things culminating at once, but the final straw was when he didn’t bother to buy me any flowers for Valentines and when I got into the office I found Rebecca, one of the girls that works at Hardwickes, surrounded by what looked like a florists. I hit rock bottom. I just felt so neglected. It’s changed a lot since then. Drew’s changed, I’ve changed, all for the better.’
‘That’s exactly how I feel,’ Louise whispered, her voice croaky as she strained not to dissolve into tears. ‘Neglected.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Audrey purposely strode up the incline of Mount Parade, smiling like the cat who had got the cream. No-one could have fathomed – least of all her – that nearly eighteen months after being incarcerated in that home for old codgers, she would be strolling free as a bird towards the front door of the people who had abandoned her there. If she was perfectly honest, as she approached eighty-two, she had to concede she was lucky to still have all her faculties and full use of her mobility, especially when she thought of some of her fellow inmates at the home, who had been younger than her but had fallen into ill health. She had Brian to thank for that, for his vision to run a small holding after he had retired from managing the bank. All those years of fresh country air, the physical exercise which had come with caring for the animals and farming their small amount of land, had kept her agile, physically and mentally. What luck it was that with Pammie now back in her life, she was still capable enough to join in with all the goings-on and enjoy her great-grandchildren. She realised now, she had been broken, mentally speaking anyway, when she had agreed to enter Countryside at the beginning of last year. And, if she must concede it, the residents and staff at Countryside had allowed her to grow in confidence. As she turned into the ostentatious pillared driveway of fifty-seven Mount Parade, she reminded herself that she must thank Jean and Mike for that. She had become a recluse in the years since Brian had passed away, comfortable in her own company, not lonely but alone. In fact, she had never felt lonelier than when she’d gone to live at Countryside, but Jude had soon helped her come out of her shell. Now, who would have believed she would be living independently again and have her own little job! She was loving the new shifts Johnnie had given her at the stores, it was certainly helping her meet new villagers and it gave her some purpose; a reason to walk with her head held high. Which was very important to her as she climbed the steep, stone steps of number fifty-seven and rang the doorbell. She waited momentarily, noting that Jean and Mike had made a good job of their hanging baskets this year, when the black door swung open.
‘I knew you wouldn’t stay away forever,’ Mike said, chuckling from under his several chins, whilst pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. ‘I’ve been telling her for months to respond to you, but you know what’s she’s like; a dog with a bone, just can’t let it go.’
‘Well, one of us needed to make the first move and seeing Jean is ever so like her father, I thought it would have to be me.’
Mike laughed again. ‘Come in,’ he said, opening the door wider.
‘Thank you,’ she said, crossing the threshold onto the creaky, once varnished oak floor boards, into the vacuous entrance hall which was like an atrium going up through the three-storey house. She’d visited this house so many times in the past thirty years, but today she felt like a stranger.
The thundering footsteps on the stairs heralded Jean’s arrival.
‘Mother!’ she boomed.
‘Jean.’ Audrey focused on the task in hand an
d mentally reminded herself why it was she had come here today.
‘Finally found your way back from the sticks again, have you?’
Audrey took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, Jeannie, will you get over yourself! So, it didn’t work out living at Countryside; I still sold Oak Acre. I’m living independently, not a burden to you anymore; I really don’t know what your problem is.’
‘You’re living in the same village as Pamela.’ Jean almost spat Pammie’s name out.
‘Next door to your grandson,’ Mike chipped in.
Audrey frowned, knocked off kilter that they knew so much.
‘We went into Hardwickes and enquired about you,’ Jean said, evidently interpreting the puzzled expression on Audrey’s face.
‘Yes, Jack has moved in with Pammie, so I’ve taken on his cottage.’
‘She doesn’t muck about, does she?’ Mike chuckled again. ‘Fast mover that one; always was.’
Jean laughed too. ‘Ha! Yes, always was impulsive.’
Audrey clenched her teeth together and counted to ten. She looked from daughter to son-in-law, both looking like a pair of weebles; short and dumpy. Neither of them took any pride in their appearance, they could both do with a good haircut and a trip around the shops for some new clothes which preferably fitted properly.
‘You know nothing about Pamela,’ Audrey finally said, regretting her words almost instantaneously.
‘Oh, don’t I?’ Jean stepped off the bottom stair and rounded on Audrey.
Audrey stood stock still, holding her handbag in both hands in front of her, like some sort of old-lady-defence-shield.
‘I know she’s wheedled her way, good and proper, back into your life and now, there you are, living in Clunderton, playing happy families, but let me just ask you one thing—’
Audrey continued to look up through the empty space of the hallway to where the faux-chandelier hung at the top of the second floor. Her eyes traced down the winding staircase and she couldn’t help but notice how dusty the banisters were. Jean and Mike were far too tight too pay for a cleaner and far too lazy to regularly clean their own home.
‘—who was it who had to pick up the pieces when she left? Hmmm?’
Audrey continued to look up, like a dog who knew it was in trouble but under no circumstances was going to maintain eye contact with its owner for fear of making them even angrier. ‘Who was it,’ Jean continued, ‘who remained in your life all these years? Who was there when Daddy died, to help you and pick up the pieces?’
Audrey almost sniggered. Audrey and Brian had rarely seen Jean and Mike when Brian was alive; Christmas, Easter, birthdays, the occasional Sunday lunch. Once Brian passed away, Audrey felt that Jean and Mike were moving in on her to protect their inheritance. Weekly visits, and when that became too laborious, they bullied her into moving to the retirement home.
Something she could never forgive them for.
And that was the dangerous thing, really, about people who had nothing to lose; there were no consequences. If Audrey turned around and walked out of that front door, right now, she would be losing nothing. Pammie’s return to Yorkshire had brought about two grandsons, three great-grandchildren and an olive branch of independence. If she never saw Jean and Mike again it wouldn’t matter one jot. Of course, Jean was her daughter and she loved her, but she wasn’t prepared to be bullied by her and Mike anymore. It might disappoint Pammie not to have resolved relations, but as far as Audrey was concerned, she was prepared to take or leave Jean from now on. So, what Jean decided to do next was very much her fate and her fate alone.
‘Okay, well, I can see that this is everything I expected it to be,’ Audrey said breezily. ‘It was a mistake me coming here Jean. I was just trying to build bridges. I think you forget that you tried to get your hands on your inheritance early by selling Oak Acre and encouraging me to end my days in God’s waiting room.’ Audrey turned on her heel and opened the front door. She looked back. ‘I’ll tell Pammie this was all futile. It’ll probably be music to her ears that I’ve fallen out with you permanently; she’s got a lengthy divorce battle with Edward coming up, she’ll be glad to know there’ll be a generous amount of inheritance from me one day, especially as her and Jack are so kind that they don’t expect me to pay rent on my little cottage. It’s—’
‘Wait!’ Mike spluttered, closing in on Audrey and trying to shut the door before she could bolt. ‘I think this is all getting a little out of hand. Jean doesn’t want to fall out with you, Audrey!’
‘I think I do!’ Jean said, incredulously. ‘I’ve spent four decades being Mum’s emotional crutch; what’s Pammie done in that time? Been totally absent, that’s what!’
A pang of remorse hit Audrey’s stomach. She was prepared to walk away, but if she stepped inside Jean’s world for even one moment, she could see where the resentment towards Pamela came from.
‘Don’t listen to her,’ Mike pleaded.
Audrey knew full well that Mike’s interest in this catastrophic clashing of opinion was financial but perhaps he was the unexpected, coercive force she needed to turn the situation around.
Jean folded her arms. ‘Yes, you should listen to me.’ Her bottom lip jutted out, like when she was five and Pammie got to stay up and read at bedtime and she didn’t.
‘Well, I want to listen to what you’ve come to say,’ Mike said, now ignoring Jean.
Audrey took her hand away from the door latch and smiled. It was underhand to use potential inheritance to pressure her daughters into speaking to each other again but needs must; the situation couldn’t go on.
‘Well, I don’t,’ Jean muttered. ‘You should put me first, Mum, not her.’
Audrey swallowed hard. ‘The problem is with both you girls, is that you haven’t grown up together. In your heads you’re still sixteen and fourteen and fighting over the latest copy of Jackie magazine.’
Mike rooted his hands deep in his baggy corduroys and laughed. ‘You did used to argue a lot, love.’
‘Yes, which is why we still are.’ Jean’s arms were still folded as she looked down at her bare feet.
‘There is only one reason you two are still at loggerheads,’ Audrey said, her voice full of vehemence for the person she really blamed for this entire debacle.
‘Edward Hardwicke,’ all three of them chorused in unison before bursting out laughing.
‘See?’ Audrey said meekly, trying to catch Jean’s eye. ‘Perhaps now is the time to try and become friends with Pammie, before it really is too late?’
‘Aye, perhaps.’ Jean’s Yorkshire accent was thick, as if she was holding back her emotions. ‘C’mon,’ she said, beckoning Audrey to follow her through to their kitchen. ‘I’ll put the kettle on, and you can tell us what you’ve been up to these past few months.’
Audrey smiled, finally reunited with both her daughters. She put her best foot forward, following Jean, Mike trotting behind her. A fizz of excitement ran through her. She wasn’t one to boast but she couldn’t wait to tell Jean and Mike about her new-found independence in the tearooms. Although there was still a trace of anxiety that while she might have broken the ice with Jean, Pammie doing the same was going to be an even bigger hurdle to jump.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Johnnie looked around at the number of faces he recognised from the village and smiled. All the canvassing had really paid off; so many villagers had turned out for the consultation meeting he and Hilary had organised with the planning department at Harrogate Borough Council. It had taken up so much of his time but as the girls’ exams were drawing to an end they had taken over from him behind the till on a few evenings and now, with Audrey regularly working Friday and Saturdays to cover the busy periods in the tearooms, Louise had all the support she needed. Johnnie wasn’t entirely sure she saw it that way. She’d been distant and snappy of late but, as he kept reminding her, this was their livelihood. What were they going to do if a budget minimart started up in the village and the residents chose che
ap alternatives over their better quality, but higher priced alternatives? It could bankrupt them. Admittedly, the tearooms made up the lion’s share of profits for the stores, but that wasn’t the point. His eyes narrowed as his gaze came to settle on James and Drew Hardwicke schmoozing the planning officer, Martin Greening.
‘Oh, you’ve spotted them too,’ Hilary said, sidling up next to Johnnie.
Johnnie turned around to see Hilary, formally dressed in her trouser suit with her trademark leather brown handbag hooked in the crook of her arm.
‘It’s a public meeting, we could hardly stop them.’ Johnnie whispered.
‘Yes, but no-one invited them to have a platform to talk.’
When James Hardwicke had found out about the consultation, he’d insisted on being present, to answer questions, alongside the planning officer.
‘Oh, let him have his five minutes of fame; over half the village is here to protest against his proposals, that’s got to count for something.’
‘I couldn’t agree more. Shall I make a start?’ she asked, sidling past him towards the little stage at the front.
‘Um, I—’
‘No problem, I’m happy to do it.’ Hilary said, quickening her pace up the stage steps.
And he’d prepared a speech to get the meeting off to a rousing start. Bloody Hilary; she was such a bossy boots.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming along this evening,’ Hilary began. The gathering came to a hush.
‘Have I missed anything?’
Johnnie turned to see Tom Thorpe, squeezing in next to him at the side of the seated villagers.
‘Hilary’s just kicking off,’ Johnnie whispered.
‘Good,’ Tom said, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. ‘I reckon this’ll be more entertaining than watching Sheffield Blades give Leeds a kicking in the FA cup.’
‘The order of the evening will be for Mr Hardwicke here,’ Hilary stabbed an accusing finger at James Hardwicke, ‘to explain why he has put in planning permission at the land adjacent to Rosefields and Clunderton Hall, and after that the floor will be open to questions for Mr Hardwicke to be answerable to and Mr Greening here, to clarify from a planning perspective. Mr Greening will be taking notes on points raised to feedback to the councillors at the council, prior to any final decision being taken. So, please, welcome—’ Hilary sounded particularly sarcastic ‘—James Hardwicke.’