Homes and Hearths in Little Woodford

by Catherine Jones

  ‘He’s said, right from the get-go, the flat would get snapped up.’

  ‘Yes, well… But he was really positive about our chances if we do as he says now. Seriously, it’s a great plan.’

  The pair set off along the pavement again.

  ‘But there’s no guarantee we will sell. We might end up paying two mortgages and the storage costs.’

  ‘Ah, I’ve thought about that.’

  Marcus’s frown returned. ‘And?’

  ‘And…’ She paused for dramatic effect. ‘You know that ridiculous studio Mum’s got in the garden.’

  ‘Of course, and it’s not really rid—’

  Abi cut him off mid-sentence. ‘We could shove all our stuff in there. I mean why does she need all that space just to paint some third-rate watercolours? It isn’t as if she makes any money out of them. David Hockney, she ain’t.’

  ‘I think you’re being a bit harsh, Abi. And your mum is pretty serious about painting – she’s started that art club in town which, from what she was telling us, sounds pretty popular.’

  ‘Says her.’

  ‘And I rather like some of your mum’s pictures.’

  ‘Really?’ Abi gave a snort of incredulity. ‘Anyway, it’s almost summer – she can paint outside, and that shed is heaps big enough to put our stuff into. Let’s face it, it’s only our bed, a couple of sofas and some pots and pans.’

  ‘I think it’s a bit more than that.’

  ‘Hardly.’ Abi looked sharply up at Marcus. ‘And even if it is, we could put anything that won’t fit in, in their house. Just look at all that space they never use.’

  Marcus didn’t respond.

  ‘Are you suggesting it’s not a good idea?’ said Abi.

  ‘No… well… I mean it’s a bit of an imposition on your folks, don’t you think?’

  ‘Come off it, Marcus, it’ll only be for a few weeks. We’re hardly moving in for good.’ Abi exhaled an exasperated sigh. ‘The clock is ticking, we have to relocate, we’ve found a house we both love – well, we will once it’s properly sorted out – and we need to sell the flat.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  Abi ignored the scepticism in Marcus’s voice. ‘Good, that’s sorted. I’ll ring Mum as soon as we get home.’

  *

  Maxine put down the phone and sank slowly onto the saggy old armchair in the kitchen. On the face of it everything Abi said made sense, except… except fundamentally she felt she was being bounced into something she didn’t want, hadn’t asked for but could hardly refuse.

  Gordon bumbled into the kitchen. ‘Have you seen my…?’ He stopped. ‘What’s up, love? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

  Maxine looked up at him, her lips pursed. ‘Not a ghost. I’ve just had Abi on the phone.’

  ‘Oh, yes. And?’ Gordon spotted the glasses he’d been looking for and picked them up. ‘Why do I get the feeling what you’re about to tell me isn’t unalloyed good news.’

  ‘They still haven’t had much interest in their flat. Abi wants to move out so it’s on the market as vacant possession.’

  Gordon considered this. ‘She might have a point. People are wary of getting stuck in a chain. Worse in London, I’d imagine.’

  ‘Quite possibly. But she wants to use my studio as a storage depot.’ She gazed bleakly at Gordon. ‘Apparently, as,’ she raised both hands and drew quotation marks in the air, ‘it’s nearly summer, I can paint outside, and anyway I don’t make any money from my paintings so it isn’t as if it’s important.’

  ‘Abi said that?’

  ‘Pretty much.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘To be honest, I was so taken aback I didn’t really say anything.’

  ‘I suppose,’ mused Gordon, ‘it’s big enough for all their kit.’

  He didn’t get it, thought Maxine, still feeling raw at her daughter’s less than veiled insult about her art. ‘But it’s my studio.’

  ‘I know, but it won’t be for long. And you managed without it before you got it.’

  Which was true.

  ‘When’s all this going to happen,’ he added.

  ‘In a few weeks, maybe less. Abi says they’re going to ask the company if they can take a bit of gardening leave between jobs, move up here and then they’ll be on hand to keep an eye on the work being done on the new house.’

  ‘So they’ll be living here too.’

  Maxine nodded. ‘She says it’ll only be for a couple of weeks.’

  ‘That’s all right then. We’ll manage.’

  Maxine shrugged. She was fairly certain she’d be the one who’d be doing the managing – not Gordon.

  ‘Have they done anything about getting quotes for the building work yet?’ asked Gordon.

  ‘I didn’t ask. I imagine they have. You know how organised Abi is. She’ll probably have a spreadsheet with it all worked out.’

  ‘More than likely.’

  ‘She was telling me her plan; they’re going to hire a van, pick it up after work on a Friday, pack it that evening, bring it here first thing on the Saturday, unload, and then race back to London to clean, paint, tidy, sort… And would we like to follow them in the car to help?’

  ‘It’ll be a quicker job if we do.’

  ‘They say we’ll just need to lend a hand with some cosmetic stuff. Many hands make light work and all that. Abi says it’ll be done and dusted in a few hours and we’ll all be back here the same day.’

  ‘In my experience,’ said Gordon, ‘once you start doing a bit of decorating you have to paint everything, otherwise anything you haven’t done looks terribly shabby in comparison.’

  Maxine tried to look on the bright side. ‘It’s only a tiny flat.’

  ‘Just wait till you start renewing all the white gloss – it’ll seem blooming massive then.’

  8

  A few days later, Maxine stood at the front of the Community Centre and looked at the semi-circle of chairs that were grouped around her. Fifteen expectant faces smiled at her.

  ‘Good evening, everyone. And welcome to another session of the art club. I thought today we’d try our hands at some abstract painting.’ She moved to the table at her side and switched on the projector which was connected to a small laptop. On the screen behind her appeared a series of dots in various shades of black, white and grey.

  ‘This is called Hesitate and it was painted by Bridget Riley. Now, whether it makes you feel giddy or confused, whether you love it, loathe it or are indifferent, I don’t think any of us could dispute that it’s a very clever bit of graphic design.’ There was a murmur of assent. Maxine clicked the touch pad and the picture changed to a rectangle of multi-coloured splatters. ‘And this is a Pollock.’

  ‘It’s a load of…’ said a wise-cracker.

  There’s always one, thought Maxine.

  The image changed to big rectangular blocks of colour separated by stark black lines. ‘Mondrian,’ said Maxine. She tapped the touch pad at intervals of several seconds. ‘Klimt, Klee, Matisse…’ She showed her class about twenty paintings in all. ‘So, as you can see there are as many styles of abstract painting as there are modern artists. Well, almost. There is no right or wrong and whether you like something or not is all a matter of taste. If you need inspiration, I’ve some books of modern art here and you are welcome to flick through them but let’s all have a go and see what we come up with.’

  Behind the ring of chairs Maxine had put out half a dozen large tables so some of the group moved over to sit at these and immediately opened their big A3 sketch pads and got busy with pencils while others began to gather round the books. A hum of conversation filled the room.

  Olivia stayed put and stared into space.

  ‘Looking for inspiration?’ asked Maxine.

  ‘Kind of. I think I’d like to have a go at something a bit like some of Bridget Riley’s stuff but I suspect that it’ll be harder than it looks.’

  ‘Give it a go – it’s the only way to find out. Somet
imes the prospect is worse than the reality.’

  ‘So very true.’

  ‘There’s a whole raft of Bridget Riley’s pictures in one of those books. They don’t all involve circles – some are swirls, some are zig-zags. Some look deceptively simple.’ Maxine moved towards the table at the front and picked up one of the glossy publications. She flicked through the pages. ‘Ah, here we go.’ She showed Olivia the pages. ‘And while I’ve got your undivided attention can I ask for some advice.’

  ‘Ask away,’ said Olivia as she studied the pictures. ‘I’m not sure how much use I’ll be.’

  ‘When Jade moved back to yours, before she moved out to the vicarage, how did you cope? I mean, did you set down ground rules from the get-go or did you work out how to rub along as time passed.’

  Olivia snorted. ‘Huh.’ She rested the book on the table. ‘It was ghastly. We nearly came to blows and we had the mother and father of all rows. Honestly, she might have been twenty-three when she moved in, used to independent living and earning a wage but the instant she stepped over the threshold she reverted to being a small child. She couldn’t even put her own stuff in the dishwasher and as for helping around the house…’

  ‘Oh lordy. That bad?’

  Olivia nodded. ‘And when she moved down to Heather and Brian’s she wasn’t much better. I felt ashamed of what I’d dumped on them. In the end, even their Christianity was tried to the limit. They had to read her the riot act to make her realise that leaving a trail of chaos and mess behind her was unacceptable.’ Olivia stared bleakly at Maxine. ‘It really made me question my parenting skills. Again.’ She didn’t have to explain to Maxine that she’d first had to question them when it transpired that her youngest, Zac, had got himself heavily caught up in the local drug scene. She exhaled a deep, heartfelt sigh. ‘Anyway, why do you ask?’

  Maxine told Olivia about Abi and Marcus’s plan. ‘Of course, they’ve promised it’ll only be a couple of weeks.’

  ‘For a complete refurb of a house?’

  ‘So they say.’

  ‘I hope they’re right.’ Olivia sounded incredibly doubtful which exacerbated Maxine’s concerns. ‘Have you seen what needs doing?’

  Maxine nodded. ‘Gordon and I went over a few days back. It’s horribly dated but a new kitchen and bathroom and a lot of fresh paint will make it really nice. Maybe they’re right about it only taking a few weeks.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Olivia, ‘good luck. But regardless of the length of time I’d get some ground rules in place before they move in; like when they’re going to cook, when they can use the washing machine, who unloads the dishwasher. I know it sounds prescriptive but it’ll be easier in the long run, believe me.’

  Maxine felt her heart sink. Everything that Olivia said mirrored her fears about having a grown-up child return to the house. And worse, she knew that Olivia was right about laying down some rules but she could imagine Abi’s reaction. And if things got as bad as Olivia had intimated things had with Jade, she couldn’t see Gordon taking things sitting down – even his patience would be tested. It wasn’t going to be for long, she reassured herself. Abi and Marcus’s circumstances were very different from Jade’s, who had returned because she’d broken up with her boyfriend and was homeless and jobless. And Abi wasn’t like Jade in that she was a bit of a control freak who couldn’t bear mess and muddle so at least Maxine’s house was unlikely to be reduced to chaos like Olivia’s had.

  ‘Look,’ said Olivia, as she put the book down, ‘I’m off this weekend and I still haven’t had the guided tour of your studio. How about I pop over for coffee on Saturday and give you some of my considered thoughts on how to handle boomerang children.’

  ‘Olivia! Would you? I won’t lie to you – I am dreading having Abi back and, I know Gordon is much more forgiving, but even so...’

  ‘He probably won’t handle it any worse than Nigel did and we survived.’ Olivia smiled. ‘I still have flashbacks to the day Jade called Nigel and I emotionally retarded fuck-wits.’

  Maxine boggled. ‘What?’

  Olivia nodded. ‘Nigel, as you can imagine, didn’t take it well.’

  Even Gordon, thought Maxine, who indulged his daughter in almost every way, would find that unforgivable. Olivia was right – that sort of scenario was to be avoided at all costs and if ground rules were the answer, so be it. But, she had a horrible feeling that no matter how diplomatic and sensitive she was in suggesting them, Abi might find grounds to take offence. She resolved to discuss the matter with Gordon in the morning and shoved the problem to the back of her mind. The trouble was, the problem refused to be shoved and she woke up several times in the night worrying about the issue.

  *

  Judith sat on her white leather sofa with her feet up and pressed the button on her phone to ring her ex-husband. She was shocked when a woman’s voice answered it. That bloody little trollop, she thought. She almost disconnected there and then but she needed to talk to Mike and the sooner the better.

  ‘Can I speak to my husband?’

  ‘He’s on the toilet.’

  ‘Well, when he’s off the lavatory—’ God, toilet. How common. ‘—please tell him I rang.’

  ‘Certainly. Can I tell him what it’s about?’

  ‘Nothing that concerns you.’ She ended the call.

  A couple of minutes later Mike phoned back. ‘And there was no need to be rude to Trina, like that,’ he said after they’d exchanged perfunctory greetings.

  ‘I wasn’t.’

  ‘Have it your way. What is it you want to talk to me about?’

  ‘I’ve sold the house.’

  ‘Already?’

  ‘It barely made it onto the market. And I got the full asking price so as soon as it goes through, I’ll send you your half, less the fees.’

  ‘I’m paying the fees, am I?’

  ‘As I did all the work selling the blasted place, I think that’s only fair.’

  There was a sigh. ‘If you think so.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Have you found somewhere to live?’

  Judith thought he didn’t sound terribly interested but then why should he be? He was all right, shacked up with his bimbo. ‘Not yet, but with the best part of a million to play with I think I’ll be able to find a very nice flat.’

  ‘Are you staying in West Myring?’

  ‘No. I’m moving closer to Max, not that it’s any of your business.’

  ‘Have you told her?’

  ‘Of course I have,’ lied Judith. ‘She and Gordon are delighted.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure they are.’

  Bastard. She was certain he was laughing at her. ‘I’ll let you know when the money’s on its way. After that we probably won’t ever have to have anything to do with each other.’

  ‘Suits me.’

  ‘And me. Goodbye.’ But Judith was lying again, this time to herself and she felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She blew her nose and sniffed. Twenty-five years of marriage down the Swanee. What a waste. All that love and attention she’d lavished on Mike, and what had she got to show for it? She didn’t stop to think that she had a wardrobe full of designer outfits, a lot of good jewellery and half the proceeds of a house that had sold for almost two million quid.

  She picked up her phone again and called her sister.

  ‘Ah, Maxie. Is this a good time, I mean you’re not dashing out are you because I need to have a chat – I’ve got a favour to ask.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. What’s the favour?’

  ‘No need to sound so wary, it’s nothing terribly onerous.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘I want to come and stay for a few nights. I’ve taken your advice, sold this place and I’m going to move nearer to you. Won’t that be lovely?’

  ‘What?’ Maxine’s outcry was so loud Judith flinched.

  ‘It was your idea. You suggested it.’

  ‘Yes… yes… I never expected you to take my advice. You don’t usually.’

&nb
sp; ‘Because, usually, it isn’t worth taking.’

  There was a silence of several seconds before Maxine said, ‘You want a favour. You may not be going the right way about getting it. There’s a very nice hotel down the road.’

  ‘No, you’re right, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.’

  ‘And wrong.’

  God, she was going to have to eat humble pie. ‘Yes, yes, it was an off-the-cuff remark and I was out of order making it. Forgiven?’

  ‘I suppose. So, when are you planning on coming to stay? Only I’ve got Abi and Marcus wanting to do the same thing and it looks like this house is about to become very crowded.’

  ‘How lovely, that’ll be nice,’ said Judith.

  ‘Given they may be staying with us for some weeks, I think the loveliness might wear off rather quickly.’

  ‘Goodness, Max, you’re grumpy today. You really sound as if you got out of bed the wrong side this morning.’

  ‘To be honest I had such a rubbish night’s sleep I’m quite surprised I managed to get out of bed this morning at all; right side or wrong side.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. But never mind that; back to me coming to stay… I won’t be staying with you for long. I want to have a look round the area, see what’s on offer – you can help me. You know where’s desirable and where isn’t, if a property is close to local amenities, that sort of thing. It’ll be fun.’ The silence from Maxine stretched a bit too long for Judith’s liking. ‘Won’t it?’ she prompted.

  ‘Wonderful.’

  ‘Good. So, given you’ve got Abi and Marcus planning on moving in, maybe it’d be better if I come sooner rather than later. I’ll come over, tomorrow – does that suit? – and we can go house-hunting together.’

  ‘Tomorrow? But that’s Saturday… yes, I suppose so but make it after lunch – I’ve got things planned for the morning.’ Maxine’s lack of enthusiasm was almost palpable but Judith wasn’t going to be put off by it.