by Rachel Ennis
Viv got out and tipped her seat forward. Once out, Jess went round to the passenger’s side, opened the door, tipped the seat forward and offered Frances her hand. ‘You’re home, Frances. Let’s go inside.’
Bleary-eyed, still fogged with sleep, Frances struggled out and would have fallen but for Jess’s steadying grip.
‘Keys, Viv?’
Grabbing Frances’s shopping bag, Viv rummaged in the front zipped packet as she hurried to the front door. The first key didn’t fit. The second did. She opened the door, recoiling from stale air tainted with the scent of rotting food, and looked over her shoulder. ‘We got trouble.’
Jess steered Frances through the front door and into the hallway where she and Viv stared at an untidy jumble of old newspapers and magazines, cardboard boxes full of empty jars, bottles and tins. Two bulging black bin bags sagged against a wall.
‘Bleddy hell!’ Viv breathed.
‘We need Annie,’ said Jess.
‘It’ll take her ages to walk up. I’ll go and fetch her. Manage all right can you?’
‘Just don’t be long. I’m way out of my depth here.’ As the front door closed on Viv, Jess turned to Frances, who swayed slightly, her gaze unfocused. ‘Come on, let’s get you sat down and I’ll make some tea.’
Frances didn’t resist as Jess guided her down the crowded passage. Passing the open door into the sitting room, Jess saw clothes heaped in an armchair and draped over the sofa back.
In the kitchen the worktops were covered in clutter. The sink was full of dirty dishes. More were piled on the draining board along with three pans stacked unevenly inside each other. The vinyl floor was tacky with a border of dust, fluff and crumbs.
Pulling the single chair from under a small beechwood table marked with tea stains and spillages that had dried, Jess gently pressed Frances down onto it. She sat with slumped shoulders, hands loose in her lap, her gaze unfocused.
Jess filled the kettle and switched it on then opened the wall cupboard above and found a small box of teabags with four left. She took out two and dropped them beside the kettle. Shrugging off her fleece she hung it on a peg inside the front door and returned to the kitchen.
Gathering the dishes on the draining board into a neat stack, she lifted others, crusted with various flavours of soup, out of the sink and stacked them as well. She turned on the tap and held her hand under it, willing the water to run hot, relieved when it did. Under the sink she found an unopened pack of scrubbing pads and a bottle of cream cleanser.
With the sink thoroughly clean and rinsed, she filled it with hot water, added washing-up liquid from the nearly-empty bottle then washed and rinsed four mugs, leaving them to drain while she put the rest of the dishes in to soak. She emptied the teapot and warmed it with boiling water. Opening the fridge door, grimacing at the smell, she took out the half-full bottle of milk one day past its sell-by date. As a sniff told her it was still drinkable, the front door opened.
‘We’re back,’ Viv called.
Jess turned, relieved to see Annie. ‘Thanks for coming.’
‘Viv said it was urgent.’ After a quick glance around the kitchen, Annie’s gaze settled on Frances.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Viv whispered as Annie nudged her out of the way.
‘Give us a chance, bird. I’ve only just got here.’
‘She went to sleep in the car,’ said Viv. ‘What you looking for?’
‘Another chair?’ Annie peered under the table. ‘A kitchen stool?’
‘There isn’t one,’ Jess said.
‘Oh well.’ Annie knelt down in front of Frances.
Jess thought of her cottage and visualised Gill, Mor, Claire, Viv and Annie crammed onto her sofa and chairs, the coffee table covered with plates of homemade goodies while they shared worries and celebrations along with the food. She recalled all the people who had sat and talked over coffee in her kitchen: Elsie, Tegan, Rob, Harry, Linda Trewern and her son Scott. And Tom. She couldn’t think about him now.
Like most women, she needed – relished - occasional solitude: time to think, work things out, enjoy a lazy bath or a tear-jerker movie, to hit pause in a busy, fulfilling life. But a kitchen with a single chair said no one dropped in for coffee, there were no heart-to-hearts over cups of tea. A single chair wasn’t solitude, it was loneliness.
‘Frances? Look at me, bird.’ Annie’s tone was kind as Frances blinked heavy eyes. ‘Where does it hurt?’
‘How did she –?’ Viv whispered, breaking off as Jess put a finger to her lips.
‘Legs – pins and needles,’ Frances mumbled then lifted her head and pointed to her open mouth.
‘Stick your tongue out for me?’
Viv’s indrawn breath hissed and Jess was horrified at the sight of Frances’s red, cracked and sore-looking tongue.
Gently cupping Frances’s face, Annie turned it towards the light streaming in through the kitchen window. ‘Can you open your mouth wider?’ Wincing, Frances obeyed. ‘You got some nasty ulcers. Painful to eat, is it?’ As Annie released her face, Frances nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks.
‘So that’s how she couldn’t talk proper,’ Viv whispered.
‘Give us a hand, Jess,’ Annie reached out and Jess helped her up. ‘Any tea is there?’ She glanced at the wall clock. ‘I’m going to ring the surgery and ask the doctor to come up. I s’pose she went in town on the early bus then got confused.’
‘Why didn’t she just go down the shop?’ asked Viv.
Jess spoke softly. ‘She wouldn’t want people she knows seeing her like this.’
‘‘Tidn laziness, Viv,’ Annie said from the door, ‘The woman’s in a bad way.’ She went out.
‘I dunno which doctor is on today.’ Viv regarded Frances. ‘But whoever it is will be here dreckly. They got no chance against Annie.’
Frances laid her arms on the table and rested her head on them. Her eyes were closed.
Jess flicked the switch to re-boil the kettle. ‘Frances? Is it all right if I look in the drawers for a clean tea towel?’
‘You’re wasting your breath, Jess. Poor soul’s away with the fairies.’
Jess nodded. ‘I know, but we’re in her house so it’s only polite to ask.’ The third drawer down produced four.
‘Well,’ Viv moved closer as Jess made the tea. ‘I don’t like her and never did. But I couldn’t face myself if I went home and left the place like this.’ She took off her quilted orange jacket, revealing a canary-yellow T-shirt over the lime-green leggings that clung to her short plump figure. ‘I’ll just hang this up.’
‘You took the thought out of my head.’
Jess poured tea into all four mugs and added milk.
Viv came back from the hall. ‘I just looked in the bathroom.’
‘And?’ Jess handed her a mug.
‘A bucket of bleach and a hand grenade should do it.’
Annie came back. ‘He’s on his way.’
‘Your tea, Annie,’ Jess pointed. ‘And one for Frances.’
Viv drained her mug in quick swallows. ‘I needed that. Right, better get on.’
‘Scrubbing pads and cleaner over there,’ Jess pointed to the worktop. ‘Have a look in the airing cupboard and see if there are a couple of old towels we can tear up.’
While Viv started on the bathroom and Annie coaxed Frances to drink, Jess tackled the washing up.
Chapter Four
Leaving Annie with Frances, Jess went into the bedroom. The bed was unmade. Clothes heaped on a chair had slid off and puddled on a carpet in desperate need of vacuuming. Dust dulled the untidy dressing table. She had just stripped off sheets and pillowcases that hadn’t been changed in far too long when Viv joined her.
‘Look at my hands,’ she held them up. ‘Got more wrinkles than a raisin. Still, the bath, loo, and basin are all gleaming. D’you know what I think?’ She picked up a folded sheet and shook it out.
‘I’m sure you’ll tell me.’
‘I reck’n thi
s all go back to her father.’ Viv went to the other side of the bed to help Jess re-make it.
‘That was a very long time ago, Viv. Frances would only have been two or three when he went to jail.’
‘I’m not saying she’d remember. But her mother – Mollie Roberts she was before she married Frank Nichols – must have suffered awful for what he done. Frances would have grown up with the shame of it. Bad enough him stealing money raised for soldiers wounded in the war. But I remember my nan saying the whole village had worked for weeks to put on that fete. They must have felt like he’d stolen from every one of them.’
‘I know Mollie and Frances lost their home and had to leave the village.’ Jess pulled the coverlet over the plumped-up duvet.
Viv nodded. ‘Didn’t Mollie’s brother take Mollie and Frances in after Frank went to prison? I’ll ask Jimmy when I get home. He’ll know.’
Jess bundled up the dirty linen. ‘You’d think if she had friends or family, someone would have seen what was happening. The bungalow didn’t get into this state overnight. And being physically ill can drag a person down mentally as well.’ She placed it on top of the towels from the bathroom.
Viv examined clothes and folded them into two piles. ‘Looks like some of these are clean but not ironed. The rest – I hope she got a big box of washing powder. What with the bedding as well, there’s four loads at least. Here, wasn’t her second husband a con-man or something?’
‘I believe so. Discovering that the man you loved and trusted is a liar and a cheat is shattering. It makes you doubt everything about yourself. You wonder what you did wrong, and instead of blaming him you feel ashamed of being taken in.’ Her smile was wry. ‘Been there, done that.’
‘Aw, bird. See, I never thought of her going through that. I aren’t saying it’s her own fault. No one deserve to be treated like that. Trouble is, she don’t make it easy to feel sorry for her.’
‘True. So she’s probably very lonely. I was lucky. Coming back to where I was born and grew up, in one way it was a fresh start, but at the same time it was familiar, it was home. I bought my ruin and with Fred and Jase’s help made it into a comfy little house and picked up with all of you again. Frances came back, but the only person I’ve ever seen her talk to is Susan Haines.’
‘Yes, and you know why? Because Susan is like a little mouse and Frances can boss her about.’
‘She’s not bossing anyone now. Does she have any close friends?’
‘I shouldn’t think so, not when she spend all her time looking down her nose at everyone. She had no right nor reason to take against you, but that didn’t stop her.’
‘It was because of my genealogy business. She was afraid of me finding out about her father. I told her anything I discover is confidential unless I’m given permission to share.’
‘But it wasn’t even a secret, Jess. The whole village knew about her father, and the court case would have been all over the papers. Still, like you say, that was her father, and it was donkey’s years ago. She was only a kiddie.’
‘You know what people can be like. One family still isn’t speaking to another family because of something that happened back in great-grandfather’s time.’
Viv nodded. ‘Tell me about it. The Mafia got nothing on a Cornish feud.’
‘Exactly. Her father was a thief, she lost her husband, then when she thought she’d found happiness again she learned she’d married a liar and a cheat out for what he could get.’ Jess shook her head.
‘You’re sorry for her?’
‘Look at this place, Viv. Look at her. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.’
‘Yes, all right. I feel sorry for her too, all right? But I don’t have to like her.’
Jess gave her a quick hug. ‘No one said you did. OK, what’s next?’
‘We need dusters. There’s an inch of fluff on they skirtings. Then when you finish with the hoover in here, I’ll have it for the sitting room.’
The doctor had arrived and was on the phone to the hospital when Jess emerged, so she simply nodded, received a nod and smile in return, and pushed the vacuum cleaner into the sitting room.
‘He’ve got an amb’lance coming for her,’ Viv whispered as they dusted. ‘I overheard him saying. Couldn’t help it, not with the door part-way open.’
‘Of course you couldn’t,’ Jess agreed.
‘He’s leaving a letter for the paramedics to pass on when she’s admitted.’
A few moments later they heard him talking to Annie then the front door closed. Viv bolted out of the sitting room with Jess close behind. They caught Annie in the hall.
‘What did he say?’ Viv hissed. ‘Is she really bad?’
‘Bad enough. He wants blood tests as soon as she get there. Though she’s confused and got problems with her memory and understanding, he don’t think it’s dementia.’
‘What, then?’
‘Could be vitamin B12 or folate deficiency anaemia.’
Jess saw impatience cross Viv’s features. Annie noticed too.
‘You’re thinking is that all? Thing is, Viv, if it isn’t treated it can lead to permanent nerve damage or heart failure. If the blood tests show that’s what it is, she’ll be given injections straight away, then more tests. When the results show improvement she’ll be allowed home.’
‘Will she be all right then?’ asked Viv.
‘Possibly, with tablets between meals and regular injections for the rest of her life.’
‘Poor soul,’ Viv muttered. ‘I never knew –’
Annie patted her shoulder. ‘That’s all right, bird. You know now. I’m going to give her a shower. She’d hate going in hospital like she is.’
‘She’ll need clean clothes,’ Jess said as Annie led Frances into the bathroom.
Back in the bedroom Jess opened the wardrobe found a pair of navy trousers and a pale blue jumper in fine wool that would be light but warm. A drawer in the chest yielded old but clean underwear and a pair of navy socks.
‘I’ll just take these to Annie.’ Knocking on the bathroom door, Jess passed the clothes in then returned to the bedroom where Viv was wrapping a nightgown and summer housecoat round a pair of slippers.
Half an hour later Annie handed Frances and the doctor’s letter over to the paramedics and Jess removed the first load of washing from the machine.
‘Shall us split the rest, Jess?’ Viv suggested. ‘I can’t be coming and going every couple of hours. I’d sooner do it at home.’
‘I was thinking the same. Are there any more bin bags?’
‘Cupboard under the sink.’ Viv said, dividing the mounds of dirty washing. Jess tore two black plastic sacks off the roll and they began filling them.
‘What about her keys?’ said Jess. ‘I’d rather not –’
‘Nor me,’ Viv added quickly. ‘Annie, you take them. She trust you. Over by the kettle they are.’
While Viv and Annie carried the sacks of rubbish, the high-piled recycling box, bags of paper and cardboard out to the garage where they would stay until Annie put them out for collection, Jess did a quick check to make sure everything was safe.
The fridge had been cleaned out and disinfected but left on. The washing machine door stood open, so air circulation would keep it sweet. Bleach had been poured down every plughole.
She locked the back door, then helped the others load the bags of dirty laundry into the boot of Viv’s little car. The bag of wet washing was propped on the back seat. Wearily Jess climbed in beside it.
‘Dear life!’ Viv exclaimed, and she and Annie got in and slammed the doors. ‘It’s coming on four o’clock. No wonder I’m starving.’ She started the engine.
Jess groaned. ‘I’ll put the bedding on to wash then I’m going to have a long hot soak in the bath.’
‘Fancy fish and chips do you?’ Viv asked. ‘I can ring Jimmy to pick some up before he come home.’
‘Oh, Viv, what a great idea. You sure he won’t mind?’ Jess asked. Imagining crisp golden
batter enclosing steaming-hot succulent fish, and chips tangy with salt and vinegar, her mouth watered.
‘Not if he know what’s good for’n,’ Viv said. ‘No, bird, he won’t mind. Be a treat for him and save me a job. After the day we’ve had I can’t face cooking.’
‘‘Tis ages since I’ve had fish and chips,’ Annie smiled. ‘I’d love some. I’ll pay him when –’
‘Don’t worry ‘bout that now,’ Viv interrupted. ‘We can settle up at Jess’s Tuesday evening.’
Jess was first to be dropped off. Hauling the bag of clean wet washing and two more from the boot onto her path, she waved as the little yellow car shot off down the road. Dropping the first bag inside the front door, she went back for the others.
Scrunched newspaper and a few sticks soon had the fire rekindled. She switched on the kettle, went upstairs to fetch spare hangers then unfolded the clothes airer. Even if Jimmy knocked off early, she reasoned as she hung Frances’s damp washing over the frame and on hangers, it would be at least an hour before he got back with their meal. Unable to face any more tea she made a mug of hot chocolate. She put the bed linen into her washing machine, added detergent and fabric conditioner then pressed the start button.
Chapter Five
Refreshed and relaxed after her bath, Jess rubbed her hair half-dry, hung both towels over the heated rail then padded through to her bedroom. She smoothed moisturiser into her face and neck, pulled on grey jogging pants and a dark green sweatshirt, slipped her feet into moccasins and ran a comb through her cropped curls. Her mirror reflected dark shadowed eyes. Despite glowing cheeks she looked tired which, all things considered, was hardly surprising.
Downstairs she added another log to the fire and switched on the kettle. She set a place mat, knife and fork on the table, and took a plate from the cupboard and set it by the sink ready to be warmed with boiling water.
The washing machine’s cycle still had twenty minutes to run. She had just finished turning the garments on the airer so they would dry evenly when she heard footsteps on her path.