by Maeve Haran
Douglas nodded.
‘And what will happen to the hotel building?’ Rose enquired. ‘Will there still be a bar and a restaurant?’
Douglas laughed. He really liked Rose. Maybe it was the colonial in them both, she originally from Canada, he from Australia. ‘I’m not sure you could have an official bar. More one of those honesty bars you have on holiday. Food is something you’d have to discuss.’
‘Food is pretty damn important,’ Rose commented.
‘Which brings us to staff,’ Bella threw in. ‘You’d definitely need staff.’
‘And a get-out clause,’ muttered Don. ‘When you all realize you actually hate each other.’
‘And do you think you can achieve all this for the sum we can raise between us?’
Douglas shrugged. ‘You’ve put your finger on it, Rose. The next issue is to see how much we can raise of the sum Murdo’s asking.’
Bella looked round at the assembled group. ‘It seems to me that the really big question isn’t about the money, or the accommodation, which can be sorted, or staffing, or even whether there’s a bar, but something pretty fundamental. Do you think you could actually live together and make it fun and happy and a million miles better than living on your own?’
Before any of them could answer, the door opened and they looked round. Claudia thought it might be Hiro, eager to be included.
Instead it was Ella.
‘Ella! What on earth are you doing here?’
‘What do you think? I’ve decided to throw in my lot with you bunch of superannuated hippies.’
‘But why on earth?’ Sal protested. ‘You’ve just bought a little cottage on the river.’
‘It’s a long story.’ Ella grinned at them all, still glowing with relief that she didn’t have bloody dementia. ‘Suffice it to say that living with you lot is probably my only escape from a granny flat in my daughter Julia’s garage. Paid for by me.’
Sal burst out laughing. ‘You’d better sit down then and join the crew.’
After another hour they were beginning to flag. ‘I think we’ve all got enough to think about,’ Claudia announced. ‘But first I’d really like to thank Douglas and Bella for all their amazing kindness.’
Bella laughed, a lovely throaty mischievous sound. ‘We’re not quite as saintly as you make us out to be,’ she pointed out. ‘There is just a sliver of self-interest. Nigel loathes renting in Guildford. He and Noah and I are longing for somewhere beautiful but reasonable to live and Douglas and Gaby are hoping for a little plot of land they could develop.’
‘One of those outbuildings you’ve got so many of might make an amazing living and working unit,’ Douglas seconded. He waited a beat of a second. ‘You did say you wanted young blood, Claudia.’
At this point Len, Claudia’s dad, who hadn’t seemed to be taking much in, sat up. ‘Excellent idea,’ he insisted with a twinkle. ‘Douglas can organize the croquet tournaments.’
Douglas laughed and started to hand round copies of his sketches. ‘I’d like you all to take a proper look at these and try and decide what sort of accommodation would suit you.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Don murmured, ‘the asylum’s really opening, isn’t it?’
Claudia studiously ignored him.
Having Bella on board, Claudia told her proud mother Laura, was changing everything. Suddenly things were happening. She and Douglas had not only got a meeting with the planners but Bella had somehow charmed the authorities into putting their application in for the next planning committee meeting, so they needed to make decisions fast.
The inevitable arguments would now ensue about how much each person paid, who wanted which cottage, and who deserved the more substantial coach house.
Claudia had expected the stiffest opposition to come from her parents, or rather her mother Olivia. They had, after all, lived in their home for thirty years. Her father would be happy with anywhere as long as there was some kind of shed nearby, but Olivia had always had delusions of grandeur.
What Claudia didn’t know, because Olivia had kept it from her, was that her strong, obstinate, proud mother was beginning to be scared herself.
It all came to a head when they got back from Igden Manor and Olivia found that Len, without Hiro to nag him as he had been borrowed for the afternoon by Lou Maynard, had messed himself, and then on top of that there was a note from Mrs O’Brien that the washing machine had packed up.
For one terrible moment she thought she might hit her husband.
Just in time, the sound of wheels behind her on the tiled passage made her whip round. ‘I see Leonard has had an accident,’ announced Hiro without any inflection of criticism in his metallic voice.
‘He hasn’t had an accident!’ Olivia shouted, lowering her face to his level. ‘He’s messed in his pants!’
Hiro took the bewildered Len’s hand in his artificial one.
‘Come, Leonard,’ he announced patiently, ‘let’s get you cleaned up.’
When they’d gone Olivia half collapsed at the kitchen table, feeling guilty. At least in this Igden Manor community, Len wouldn’t be her sole responsibility. Of all Hiro’s skills the ability to clean up her husband had been one of the most astonishing in fact. Frankly, she hadn’t believed it until Lou had showed her a robot demonstrating it on YouTube.
With her daughter Bella suddenly so in demand, Laura offered to take on her baby grandson Noah at least part of every day.
‘Hello, baby.’ She looked into Noah’s mysterious deep blue eyes, which seemed to have the wisdom of ages in their inky depths. ‘You and I are going to really get to know each other.’
Noah’s answer was a long slow smile, as if he already found the game of life a very funny and slightly ridiculous one.
‘What do you think?’ she asked him very seriously. ‘Should I give up London and come and live here with my friends? I could see more of you, which would be wonderful, but do you know what, Noah, I don’t feel old enough? Is that ridiculous and vain? Am I still looking for love even though I ought to know better?’
Noah offered her the sweetest of smiles and filled his nappy noisily.
‘You’re quite right,’ Laura conceded. ‘That’s what I ought to think about love too. A heap of poo. And nothing like as sweet-smelling as yours is.’
Bella and Douglas managed to get the meeting to discuss their plans much sooner than they’d expected. It was only when they were sitting opposite the planners and Douglas began to outline the scheme they realized they were benefiting from a triple whammy: the authorities were worried that if Igden Manor went bust it would look bad for business locally; the leader of the council personally disliked Lord Binns – no doubt due to the historic enmity between posh aristos and local government officials – but didn’t want to offend the largest landowner in the county; and lastly because social care was the buzzword of the moment and the Tory council knew it didn’t provide enough of it.
‘Tell you what,’ Bella grinned as they came out of an hour-long meeting when almost everything they’d asked for had been okayed in principle, ‘I’ll bet you twenty quid they’ll be calling Igden Manor a “community of the future” or some such thing, not to mention showing people round it, even though they haven’t put a penny into it.’
She stopped, her eyes widening with mischief. ‘You don’t think they actually would put some money into it, do you?’
Douglas laughed out loud. ‘They might if you were in charge of negotiations. You’re quite an operator, Miss Bella Minchin.’
‘Ms Bella Minchin, if you don’t mind. How about nipping into the pub for a swift half to celebrate?’
Douglas nodded and ten minutes later they were sitting in the snug of The Laden Ox, clinking glasses.
‘So what do we do next?’ Bella enquired.
‘We get people to opt for the accommodation they want and then the tricky bit – get them to prise the cash out of the socks under their beds and lay it on the table.’
‘Okay, my me
tal mate, how have things been down here with Leonard?’ Lou asked Hiro, putting his arm round the manikin as if he were indeed an old friend.
For once Lou didn’t get the usual response to his charismatic personality. Hiro shook him off.
‘I am not a spy,’ he announced tersely.
‘No, but you are designed to be a carer and carers report back on their clients. For their own sake.’
‘Things are going as well as expected,’ Hiro conceded haughtily. ‘His wife does not like me and neither does the woman who was hired to care and neglected her duties.’
‘Why doesn’t Leonard’s wife like you?’
‘I think she is jealous. Yet she has no desire to do the caring herself.’
‘Perhaps you should try and win her over. From what I’ve heard you’re a very winning little chap.’
‘Perhaps you are right. I will go now if that is all right.’
He disappeared out of the door on his soundless wheels.
Sal shook her head. ‘What a weird modern world we live in. I can’t even cope with Siri on my smartphone.’
‘Sweet old-fashioned gal. You ain’t seen nothing yet. It won’t be long before every home has a Hiro.’ He laughed and reached out for her, pulling her towards the bed. She wanted to talk about his children, all eight of them, and what they would think of his decision, and whether he could really give up his life in Brooklyn for Surrey, but she knew better than to protest. Being handed this happiness so late in life had taught her one thing.
Enjoy it while you can.
She did let herself ask one little question. ‘Whereabouts do you want to live in our free-spirited non-retirement community?’
‘The cottage at the end,’ he announced with his usual instant certainty. ‘Next to the pool. It’ll be nice and quiet and I can get up and swim seventy lengths then come back and make passionate love to you.’
‘After seventy lengths?’ she teased. ‘Are you sure you’re not boasting?’
‘Want to try me out?’ He moved towards her threateningly.
Laughing, she fell back onto the bed. If he wanted to make passionate love to a one-breasted sexagenarian, who was she to object?
One thing she knew for sure. Growing old with Lou certainly wasn’t going to be dull.
In the end Claudia and Don opted for the coach house themselves. ‘I’ll agree to this crackpot scheme provided I get some independence from the Coven,’ he insisted. ‘Otherwise I’m out.’
Claudia didn’t actually believe this but she could see the appeal of the coach house. It was rather a handsome flint-built building with its own walled garden at a small distance from the hotel at the rear, quite near the road, which Claudia was about to protest about, but seeing her husband’s mutinous expression, she wisely kept her mouth shut. It was almost opposite a Harvester and two minutes from a rather scuzzy pub. She could see that both these might hold an attraction for Don. He could cross the road and complain to sympathetic ears in the public bar about his harpy of a wife and her loony friends. He’d had high hopes of signing Lou up to his camp at the start of the negotiations, but despite his overwhelmingly masculine demeanour, Lou seemed to be a secret feminist. Weird people, Americans.
Ella chose a two-bedroom cottage at the other end of the U-shaped block, quite near a small duck pond. After the river, she announced happily, she’d got used to the sound of water and ducks quacking was the kind of peaceful sound that would get her to sleep. She actually hoped to carve out a bit of private garden of her own but decided to try and negotiate that later. There was enough to fall out over already.
Rose had opted for the main hotel building. ‘It reminds me of a chateau I once had a fling in near Bordeaux. Plus I want to be near the lift and the bar,’ she announced firmly.
The staff, once they decided how many they would need and could afford, could be accommodated in the small block near the hotel car park where the current waiters and chambermaids, all friendly and unfailingly polite young people, were currently billeted.
Bella had called a meeting this afternoon for final bids to be made and for everyone to announce how much they could afford to pay, which they would do via sealed bids to avoid embarrassment. Tension crackled over the tea and scones as they gathered in the large chintzy lounge.
‘Lord Binns has hinted he would settle for a million,’ Douglas announced. ‘It’s a ludicrously low sum, but he owns half the county and I think he’s bored with all the problems.’
‘Plus he wants to see more of Rose,’ Sal teased.
Rose simply raised a thin pencilled eyebrow, making Sal think of Edith Piaf at her most outrageous.
‘There would also be the conversion costs and we need to consider the question of staff,’ Bella announced brightly. ‘I have researched this and staff would be £12 an hour at least plus National Insurance and pension contributions, so a minimum of £15. Claudia has asked me to stay on and manage, which I’m happy to do. Especially if we get that dear little cottage with the creeper growing up it, two along from the end.’
‘You’ll be next to us,’ Sal smiled. ‘That’d be lovely.’
‘And of course there’s the chef,’ insisted Rose. ‘I’m not in unless he is.’
Bella almost dropped her head into her hands but decided it would be unprofessional. Finally she turned to her mother. ‘What about you, Mum? Are you throwing in your lot with us wild frontierspeople?’
Laura felt herself blushing. How ridiculous. Yet she did feel a bit of a traitor. This was such an important venture to her friends.
‘Not me, I’m afraid. Too much of a city girl.’
‘In Twickenham?’ Bella pointed out.
‘All right, too much of an almost-Londoner. I will come and look after Noah a lot, though.’
Bella opened the envelopes and quickly got the calculator out on her phone.
‘I’m afraid we need someone else to join up,’ she announced evenly.
Everyone tried not to look at Laura, who was acutely aware of the money for her half of the house soon sitting in her bank account.
Claudia caught Sal’s eye. She knew Lou was a rich man and that he was, after all, interested in Igden as a business model for similar places as well as a place to live with Sal.
Sal discreetly shook her head. She was already worried what his children were going to think of this mad idea, and of her for pulling him into it.
Lou the businessman’s mind, however, was running on another track altogether. ‘You could easily borrow it from a bank.’
‘I didn’t think banks were keen to lend to anyone over sixty,’ protested Ella. ‘I’m sure I heard a whole piece about it from Outraged Pensioner from Tunbridge Wells. They won’t lend to wrinklies even if they’re rolling in it.’
‘British banks might not,’ conceded Lou. ‘But Chinese Banks would. And Indian Banks are falling over themselves to lend here.’
A wild outrageous thought sparked in Laura’s brain. She might not be ready to come and live here herself. But she could think of someone who might.
She found herself smiling secretly.
Would it be fair to unleash Mrs Lal on her friends’ fledgling retirement community?
Fifteen
‘So who the hell is she, this Indian woman?’
Claudia flushed with embarrassment at the memsahib tone in which her mother Olivia uttered these words.
‘Her name’s Lalita Lal,’ Laura replied, struggling to find the right diplomatic words to describe the phenomenon that was Mrs Lal. ‘She’s the mother-in-law of the lovely man I’ve been working for in London. She’s quite rich, very well dressed, and back home in India she’s a well-known matchmaker.’
‘How old is she?’ Olivia persisted.
‘I don’t exactly know. Well over seventy, I’d say.’
‘I thought she was the interfering old bat you couldn’t wait to get rid of?’ Ella asked suspiciously. ‘You wouldn’t be trying to dump her on us so you wouldn’t offend your employers?’
> ‘How could you suggest that, Ella?’ Laura was genuinely wounded. If this was an example of them all living together, then she was glad she was out of it. ‘I didn’t get on with her at first but then she was incredibly kind to my son Sam, and actually very kind to me.’ She thought of the Bhangra music and the Dom Perignon and how Mrs Lal had made leaving her home so much easier.
‘And yet you won’t be inviting her to join you in your new abode, I take it?’ The sarcasm was still there.
‘For God’s sake, Ella,’ Laura replied, ‘I don’t even know where I’m going to be living!’
‘Okay,’ she conceded, feeling guilty that the flat Laura wanted so much had fallen through, partly as a result of her own inattention. ‘Why don’t you find out what this lady’s situation is, whether she’d be remotely interested, and whether she could afford to buy a stake in an olde English manor house and live with a bunch of oldies in Surrey? And then we’ll meet her.’
Laura rang Mr A that afternoon. The suppressed excitement in his voice was abundantly clear. ‘Mrs Minchin, you are as the white dove after the flood returning with an olive branch in its mouth. Mrs A and I have been at wits’ end trying to find the solution that would keep her happy. I think that perhaps you are providing it.’
Laura felt panic rising like the very flood waters Mr A had so vividly evoked. This was all moving dangerously quickly. Of course, money had not been mentioned yet.
‘Besides, Mrs Minchin, my mother-in-law has conceived one of her rare affections both for you and your interesting son.’
‘The thing is–’ Laura attempted to damp down his ardour – ‘to buy a share would actually cost a lot. And it would have to be on a trial basis at first.’
‘It would be peanuts to Mrs Lal!’ declared Mr A. ‘She could buy the whole thing if she wanted. Her second husband – not Mrs A’s father, you understand – was a manufacturer of wire needed in the telecommunications industry. I’m sure I need to say no more.’ He must be a brave man who had dared drop Mrs Lal, Laura thought privately, and cause her so much embarrassment that she didn’t want to return home.