The Wishing Well

by Anna Jacobs

  When he’d left, Sue turned round and scowled at the kitchen, which she’d already tidied up after their meal. “It’s filthy!” she said out loud. “I can’t bear to live in such filth.”

  She was still cleaning it, wiping the surface again and again, when Trev came home and an hour later, Angie.

  Each of them peeped into the kitchen, saw what was happening and went quietly to bed. Trev lay awake for a long time trying to figure out how he could persuade Sue to see the doctor, but he found no magic arguments, only the same old reasons she’d rejected out of hand several times lately. Tiredness finally overcame him.

  Angie was exhausted after a busy shift serving at the pub. She wedged a chair under her door handle so that her mother couldn’t erupt into the room and start scolding her about her untidiness, which had happened more than once lately in the middle of the night. Her mother might not need much sleep, but she did.

  Her father had begged her to keep their problems in the family, but Angie didn’t think she could keep silent much longer. She needed to talk to someone about this.

  Pop had enough on his plate but perhaps she could talk to her aunt? That would keep the problem in the family, wouldn’t it? She’d give Auntie Laura a day or two to settle into her new job, then go and see her.

  She couldn’t continue like this, she just couldn’t!

  * * * *

  Kit arrived at his new home as most people were heading off to work. The taxi driver obligingly carried his luggage inside, after which Kit stood in the hall and simply soaked up the feel of the house. Something inside him seemed to settle and change, and a warmth feeling rose in every part of him. Home. He had a home of his own, hadn’t realised how much he’d needed that.

  “Alf, you old devil, how did you know to leave me the house and Joe the money?” he whispered and could have sworn he felt gleeful laughter swirling round him.

  He began a slow tour of the ground floor, delighted to find his bed already made up and a vase of flowers on his sitting room table, which smelled faintly of polish. How had Laura managed to do so much so quickly?

  In the kitchen he found basic food supplies in the pantry, fresh food in the fridge and a coffee plunger set out temptingly on the surface near the sink together with a packet of ground coffee and one of the new mugs. He hadn’t felt hungry before but suddenly felt ravenous, so made himself a mug of real coffee, closing his eyes in bliss as he took his first sip.

  After that he prepared two slices of toast and honey, putting them on the little serving trolley she’d unearthed from somewhere and set ready. How had she known he’d need it to carry his food and drink across to the table? Oh yes, her son had broken his leg once. He ate the toast with relish, licking the honey drips off his fingers. Strange how simple things could please you.

  When he heard a key in the front door he called, “I’m in the kitchen.”

  Laura poked her head through the doorway. “Hi. Won’t be a minute. I’ll just unload my car.”

  He put the kettle on and got out another mug, but didn’t know whether to make tea or coffee for her, so left it at that.

  She came and went a couple of times, then the front door closed and she took her luggage upstairs. It irritated the hell out of him that he couldn’t help her do that, but he knew she wouldn’t mind. He’d offered her the job out of sheer instinct, the same instinct that had saved his life once or twice, and he already suspected he’d found a treasure in Laura Wells - or even a friend.

  When she joined him, he waved a hand towards the beaker. “I don’t know your preferences, so I didn’t make you a cuppa.”

  “I like coffee too.” Laura made herself some and joined him at the table. “What do you want me to do first?” She watched him look at her blankly for a moment and hid a smile as he frowned and ran a hand through his hair, making it even more untidy than before.

  “Hell, I haven’t a clue what you should do. Do you need daily orders? Can’t I just leave you to get on with things?”

  “You can once I’m settled, but I’ll have to keep checking with you until I know how you like things done. Some starting information would be helpful, though. Food for instance - what sort of meals do you prefer.”

  “Interesting or spicy food, preferably not plain cooking, but I’m not a fussy eater. Apart from regular meals, what I mostly want is to make this place feel like a home.” He tried to gather his thoughts which seemed to be flying in every direction. “I’d like to use the dining room as my office. I - um, have a publisher interested in a book I’m writing.”

  “How wonderful!”

  “It will be if I ever get it finished. It’s very dark and gloomy in there, though, so if you can think of any way of brightening it up, let me know. And that suite in my sitting room is hard and uncomfortable, always was, so I need better seating for the evenings. Do you know anything about choosing furniture?”

  “Quite a bit, actually.”

  “And thank you for the flowers. They were a lovely thought.”

  “I like flowers. Let’s go and look at the rooms properly.” She led the way out, holding doors open for him, but otherwise leaving him to fend for himself.

  As they stood in the living room he grimaced. “Look at those chairs. They just about bristle at you!”

  “How about a recliner rocker? Then you can put your feet up if you need it?”

  “Great idea. You’re on. But you must get something similar for your sitting room too. My uncle had plenty of money, but he didn’t spend much on the house, did he? He left the money to my brother and told him to go out and do something more adventurous, but he left me the house because he thought it was time I settled down. I’m beginning to suspect he was right.”

  He eyed her sideways. “And once it’s all set up, can we visit one another sometimes in the evenings? Just for a bit of company? I won’t pester you and of course you’re welcome to have your family come and visit, and I won’t intrude then, but I don’t want to spend every evening sitting in solitary state in one room while you do the same in another.”

  “Don’t you think we’d better - keep our interactions businesslike?”

  “Nope. I don’t have a formal bone in my body and I’m incurably friendly. I like to be around people.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s fine by me. And as soon as you feel up to going shopping, let me know and I’ll drive you into town. There’s a rather nice furniture shop in that new shopping centre. Quality but not ridiculously priced.”

  His voice was wistful. “I’d go shopping today, but I think it’d be too much for me. I still need the odd nap in the afternoon, so if I’m in my bedroom with the door closed after lunch, leave me be - though I’m a lot better than I was about that.”

  “It’d be too much for me today as well. Angie’s coming over to lend me a hand, if that’s OK. She’s not getting on with her mother and needs to get out of the house. My sister can be very - ” she searched for a word to describe Sue and could only come up with, “ - difficult.”

  “If Angie’s helping you, I’d prefer to pay her.”

  “There’s no need.”

  “Oh, but there is! I’m a firm believer in the labourer being worthy of her hire. And if Angie’s coming speeds up our settling in period, I’ll be delighted. You can hire her for as many days as you like.” He studied her face and said gently, “I’m not short of money, you know.”

  “Very well.” She could see that he was looking tired. “Let’s sit down while we talk.” She didn’t wait for an answer but walked through into the kitchen.

  There he lowered himself carefully into what she was coming to think of as his chair, cocked his head on one side, as if considering, then said, “I’ll be out three times a week at physiotherapy - ”

  “Do you want me to drive you there?”

  “I usually take a taxi.”

  “Waste of money. I can drop you, do the shopping nearby and pick you up afterwards.” She saw his look of surprise and realised what she’d said. “Oh,
sorry, didn’t mean to order you around.”

  “I don’t mind. You’re right, of course. Anyway, it’s only for a short time. I hope to be driving myself within a month or so, which will be a great relief.” He heaved himself to his feet. “I think I need to lie down for half an hour.”

  He stopped in the doorway as another thought occurred to him. “I wouldn’t mind getting in a few bottles of wine and spirits. I’m not a drunk, but I do like a drink occasionally. Maybe we can visit a supermarket together tomorrow? If you drop me near the door, I can manage a few circuits of the shelves with you pushing the trolley. I’m not totally incapacitated now.”

  “You should get yourself a temporary disabled sticker for the car.”

  His expression became icy, his voice cut like a knife. “Never!”

  Before she could say anything, he’d gone into his room and she didn’t hear a sound from him for over an hour. She was nonetheless very conscious of his presence in the house as she sorted out the kitchen, making a list of the cooking equipment she needed.

  She’d no experience of working for others, but it seemed to her she’d landed on her feet - as long as she kept away from using the word “disabled”. She really liked Kit Mallinder and his casual approach to her being his housekeeper suited her down to the ground. She didn’t think she could behave in a stiff, formal manner, or act subserviently. She’d been too long in Australia for that.

  Her main worry now was her parents. It hadn’t felt right to ask Kit about time off before she’d even started, but she wanted to do her father’s weekly shopping and maybe cook him some casseroles and other easy to reheat meals. At least that way she’d feel she was helping him.

  She realised that the doorbell had just rung for the second time and rushed off to let Angie in.

  Chapter 14

  Ryan offered to meet Caitlin at a café on Lygon Street, but she suggested one nearer her flat, saying she didn’t like crowds. It was almost fifteen minutes after the time appointed, however, before she came hurrying up, her face glowing with exertion.

  “Sorry I’m late! I couldn’t find a parking place that seemed safe.”

  He pulled a chair out for her, feeling suddenly happy. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now. I should have come and picked you up. Walking the streets at night can be scary for a woman, I know. My mother was mugged once.” He paused as he remembered suddenly how angry his father had been - at her! For letting herself get mugged. His mother had been nervous of going out after dark for a long time after the incident and his father had mocked her for that and told her to get over it, for heaven’s sake.

  He hadn’t liked it, but hadn’t spoken up for his mother, regretted that now. Why hadn’t he defended her? Because his father had had a forceful personality, strong enough to dazzle a girl half his age, and a great deal of charm - when he bothered to use it. Which he hadn’t towards his wife for a long time.

  He saw Caitlin turn her head to look at him in puzzlement and pulled himself together to push her chair in. “Sorry. Just remembering something.” He’d better not share that memory of his father being a prize bastard, so gestured to the menu. “Now you’re here, can I order you a drink?”

  “I’d die for a glass of white wine, just one. People say you’re not supposed to drink while you’re pregnant, but I sometimes have one glass. I’m sure that can’t do any harm.”

  “Of course not.”

  The waiter came back with her wine and she sipped it, closing her eyes and sighing with pleasure as she savoured the taste. “Ah, that’s so good. And it’s lovely to get out. I usually watch television or a movie at night.”

  “It must be hard for you living alone. Are you going to get a job?”

  “No.” She shrugged. “I hated being a secretary, shut up in an office all day. I wanted to go to university, but my parents wouldn’t let me, could only see it as a waste of time and effort when all I’d do was get married and have children.” She grimaced. “They’re stuck in a time warp in that sect of theirs and still believe in chaining women to hearth and home.”

  “You could go to university now. You can afford it.”

  She flushed. “I’m thinking about it, actually. In the meantime I’m reading a lot, watching a DVDs, going for walks. It’s a waiting game, really, having a baby. How about you? Are you making friends in Melbourne?”

  In other words, he thought, change the topic, so he obliged. “It takes time to make real friends, don’t you think? The guys at work are mostly older than me and married, so although we get on OK, they’re not likely to become close friends.”

  It was his turn to grimace. “I was invited to a barbecue at my supervisor’s house, but I was the only unattached male there and they were all watching to see how I’d get on with the woman they’d invited to pair me with. That irritated me so much I vowed to take someone along next time, even if I had to hire a woman.”

  She laughed. “I don’t think you’d have to hire anyone. You’re attractive, intelligent and single. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble getting dates.”

  He was pleased she thought him attractive. “I’m a bit picky. Comes of watching my father chase anything in skirts.” He realised what he’d said. “Oh, hell, sorry! That wasn’t a dig at you.”

  She stared down at her glass. “I knew what Craig was like.”

  “Surely he didn’t - not after you . . . ” He broke off.

  “I don’t think so, but he never stopped studying the market, as he put it.”

  He could see the hurt in her eyes, hear it in her voice, wanted to ask why she’d shacked up with his old man in the first place. Didn’t dare.

  Luckily the waiter brought their order just then and Ryan was able to turn the talk to food. The meal was all right, but nothing special and he noticed she didn’t eat much. “I thought you were supposed to be eating for two?”

  “I don’t feel all that hungry these days.”

  “I always have a good appetite. I’m not the world’s best cook, so I eat out a lot or get take-aways. Actually, I’m thinking of going to cookery classes. It sounds corny but I miss Mum’s cooking. She used to invite me round at least once a week and feed me royally.”

  “They ought to run survival courses for unattached males whose mothers didn’t teach them to cook and wash.”

  He looked at her, frowning as another memory surfaced. “She did try to teach me, but Dad made fun of us - so after a while we both stopped trying. Do you know, I’d forgotten that. Dad said no man needed to learn to cook while there were willing women around. I remember them quarrelling about him saying that.”

  “Well, he certainly never lifted a finger in the house during the one week we lived together.”

  Her tone was so sharp he looked at her in surprise.

  “I wasn’t blind to your father’s faults and if I hadn’t been so stupidly sick and tearful, I’d have put my foot down from the beginning about sharing the housework. Pregnancy plays havoc with your assertiveness as well as your hormones, you know.”

  “I doubt it’d have done much good. Dad always went his own sweet way.”

  “Tell me about it. Have you seen that film they’re all talking about . . . ?”

  He let her change the subject again and they found they had similar tastes in films and television shows, but not so similar that they couldn’t disagree about a few.

  As he was walking her to her car, however, she said hesitantly, “I could teach you to cook a few basic dishes if you like, Ryan. I love cooking. But I shan’t be offended if you - don’t want.”

  But he did want. It saved him the trouble of finding an excuse to see her again. “Would you really? I’d be enormously grateful.”

  “How about next Friday?”

  “Great.” He watched her drive away, then strolled back to his own car.

  He couldn’t stop wondering what Caitlin had seen in his father, given that she seemed well aware of his faults. It was such an unlikely pairing. He’d loved his dad, who had always
made a lot of effort to spend time with him, not to mention going to school cricket matches and functions, but as he grew older, Ryan hadn’t been able to avoid noticing the old man’s faults. Unlike Deb, who could see none.

  And he’d hated the way his dad had been cheating on his mother, making Ryan a sort of accomplice because he had often boasted of his extra-marital triumphs to his son, “man to man talks” he’d called them. Showing off, Ryan thought.

  * * * *

  Deb drummed her fingers on the table as she waited for Ryan to answer her call, but he didn’t seem to be in. She tried again an hour later. “There you are! Where have you been all evening?”

  “Out with friends. Why? Is something wrong?”

  “No. But I’m dying to tell you my news.”

  “Go on, then.”

  “I’m resigning from work and going to England to see Gran.”

  “This is a bit sudden, isn’t it, Deb?”

  “I like acting on impulse and I can afford to now! Anyway, I rang Pop and he was telling me that Gran doesn’t recognise many people now, except for him and Angie, so if I don’t go soon she may never know me again.”

  “Is she that bad already?”

  “Yeah. It makes me feel awful even to think of it.”

  “Where are you going to stay?”

  “With Pop.” She wasn’t sure how that would work out, but she could go there for a week or so then play it by ear.

  “Is there room? I thought Mum was staying there.”

  “She’s just moved out. Apparently Gran has taken a dislike to her and gets agitated if Mum so much as comes into the same room.”

  “There’s no need to sound smug about it.”

  “I’m not.”

  “This is Ryan, not some stranger. I can tell when you’re feeling smug. And actually, I don’t understand why you’ve taken against Mum lately. She had a lot to put up with from Dad and she wasn’t the unfaithful one in this mess.”

  “No, but he wouldn’t have done it if she hadn’t let herself get so fat. That really mattered to Dad. If she’d had any wits at all, she’d have realised she’d lose him.”