by Liz Eeles
Chapter 31
‘Big bloke’ Roger is as good as his word, bless him, and finds me a bed for the night in a box room at The Whistling Wave. A bit of mountaineering is involved in getting to the bed because the room is jam-packed with Mrs Johnson’s furniture, but it’s worth it as I sink into the fat mattress, all drowsy after a hot bath. At first all I see on closing my eyes are me and Alice clinging together and sinking under murky water, like Leonardo in Titanic. But I’m exhausted after the day’s traumas and slide quickly into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I have absolutely no idea where I am when I wake the next morning in a strange bed, but the dramatic events of yesterday soon come flooding back. Though ‘flooding’ probably isn’t the best word in the circumstances. Rolling across the mattress, I stretch out like a starfish and take stock: Alice is in hospital, Tregavara House is under water, Toby is a lying toe-rag, and Josh… heroic Josh, whose brow furrows into a cute line between his eyebrows when he’s concentrating…
‘Pack it in, Annie,’ I say out loud, throwing back the duvet and contemplating whether my best route to the bathroom is over Mrs Johnson’s occasional tables or TV cabinet. Definitely the tables because the finely balanced cabinet looks dead dodgy. After making it to the bathroom with no broken bones, I stand under the shower for ages letting the hot water stream down my body and pool round my feet. And I wonder how, after being so careful not to need anyone or anything, I’ve ended up in a no man’s land – I don’t fully belong in Salt Bay or London either. What a mess!
It’s little wonder that Josh thinks badly of the Trebarwith family with its secrets and lies and appalling behaviour. God knows I’m pretty gutted that I share DNA with treacherous Toby, though I’ve grown very fond of Alice. I stretch my neck back and water pours over my face like cleansing rain.
Ten minutes later I’ve made up my mind. I’ll tell Alice that she’s loaded and thank Charlie for being such a hero yesterday. Then I’ll head back to London and hope that eventually these inconvenient feelings about Josh and my family roots will fade.
Back in the bedroom, I delve into the carrier bag of clothes for something to wear. My suitcase was left on the doorstep of Tregavara House when Toby pulled me into the garden and I haven’t seen it since. It’s probably halfway to France by now. At the bottom of the bag there’s a pair of donated pants. They’re white – I give them a quick sniff – clean and almost come up to my boobs, but they’ll do. There’s a pleated brown skirt that almost fits, and the orange blouse will do another day.
As I’m leaving the bedroom, I catch sight of myself in Mrs Johnson’s mirror and wince. Today, Gok, my look can best be described as elderly fashion victim meets make-up-free trauma survivor. Yuk. But at least I’m alive and well, though I’m not so sure about Alice. It’s only half past eight so too early to call the hospital and check on her. Poor Alice and her wrecked home. What will happen to her now?
Downstairs, Roger grunts a greeting and stops sliding wine glasses into the wooden rack above the bar. ‘Do you want some breakfast? Kayla’s not back from her sleepover at Sarah’s but I can rustle up cornflakes.’
He disappears into the kitchen and reappears a few minutes later with the cornflakes box and a milk carton on a tray, and he keeps an eye on me while I’m crunching my way through half a bowlful. I’m not hungry and have just pushed the cereal to one side when Kayla hurtles into the pub looking like she’s shoved her fingers into an electric socket.
‘Flaming heck,’ she yells, bright red cheeks matching the hair frizzed out round her face. ‘Are you all right? Nothing happens in Salt Bay for ages until I go to Penzance for one night and then all hell is let loose.’ She puffs over and engulfs me in a bear hug. ‘I met Jennifer down the road and she told me you were back and almost drowned. What the hell happened and why didn’t you tell me you were coming, and oh my God’ – she pulls back and puts her hands on her hips – ‘what on earth are you wearing? You look like an ancient bag lady.’
Giggling, I gesture for her to sit down. ‘Don’t worry Kayla, I’m fine. I was paying a flying visit to see Aunt Alice and got caught in the flood. Everyone’s safe but my clothes smell like the bottom of a pond so I’ve borrowed the blouse from Jennifer and the skirt’s been lent to me by someone called Margery Hailsham, according to Roger.’ I finger the tight pleats fanning out round my stomach that are giving me a fetching pregnancy look.
‘Huh,’ snorts Kayla, ‘Margery is at least ninety!’
‘That figures,’ I laugh, before whispering, ‘You should see the pants I’m wearing. A homeless family could use them as a tent.’
‘Only Tregavara House and Enid Johnson’s cottage were flooded out,’ calls Roger from the bar. ‘The water’s gone down now but it’s a bit of a mess out there. Some of the men have made the properties secure. I don’t suppose we’d get looters round here but you can never be too careful, ‘specially at this time of year with emmets starting to appear.’
‘Thank you, Roger, you’ve all been absolutely brilliant.’
Roger harrumphs but looks pleased.
‘Now tell me exactly what happened and how you managed to get out,’ demands Kayla. ‘Jennifer said the flood was up to the ceiling and you had to swim underwater with Alice holding on to your legs.’
‘Hardly, seeing as I can’t swim.’
‘I can see that would be a disadvantage. Tell me what really happened then while I was missing all the excitement in boring old Penzance.’
So I go through the whole thing again, keeping it as light as possible and not mentioning the painting. But I still end up shaking when I describe the water getting higher and my legs going numb. Kayla gently strokes my arm and doesn’t say anything. But when I get to the bit about Josh and Charlie appearing like the aquatic cavalry, she gasps, ‘That is amazing.’
‘It was totally amazing.’
‘And terribly romantic.’ She nudges my arm and winks.
‘Only if being immersed in filthy, freezing water turns you on.’ I don’t mention Josh’s muscles and overall hotness because it would only encourage Kayla, who can’t ever know the full story.
‘Hey Kayla,’ yells Roger from the kitchen. ‘I was very kind and gave you the night off but that didn’t include the morning. Now you’ve seen that Annie isn’t dead, can you finish your chinwag and start doing some of the work you get paid for.’
Kayla scrunches up her nose and flicks a V-sign towards the kitchen. ‘We can catch up properly later but it all sounds very exciting. Now get yourself into my bedroom and choose some clothes. You can’t go out looking like that or you’ll be arrested by the style police. And give my best wishes to Alice when you see her.’
After she’s gone into the kitchen, I sit with my eyes closed for a few moments and focus on my breathing. In, out, in, out, just like they advise in the meditation apps, but I’m too agitated to sit still for long. Instead, I use the pub landline to call the hospital and check on Alice.
‘She’s doing quite well,’ says a nurse on Alice’s ward. He sounds busy and distracted. ‘But in light of her other medical issues, the doctors want to keep her in for a day or two to keep an eye on her.’
‘But she is going to be all right, isn’t she?’
‘She’s an elderly lady and she’s had a nasty shock but you can visit this afternoon if you like and see how she is for yourself. We’re hopeful she should be able to go home later in the week.’ Wherever home might be.
After the call, I go through Kayla’s wardrobe to find myself a new outfit suitable for hospital visiting. Flicking past the hoodies and T-shirts in vivid shades – Kayla’s far braver than me when it comes to colour – I choose a pair of soft grey trousers and a navy-blue sweatshirt which kind of fit. My feet are bigger than Kayla’s but Roger, top bloke, has managed to dry out my shoes on a radiator. And though there’s a faint waft of river water about them, it does feel good to be wearing something that’s mine.
While Kayla and Roger are busy in the kitchen, I slip out
of the pub and wander down the road. Early spring sunshine is trying to burn through high cloud and a few people are out and about, talking about the traumas of yesterday. The stream is more full than usual but the waters have retreated to within its muddy banks which are strewn with plant debris. I follow the debris trail towards Tregavara House with a sense of dread but the house is still standing and looks the same, apart from the swampy garden and a tide mark just below the ground-floor windows.
‘Don’t worry, old house,’ I mutter, blinking hard to ward off the tears that are prickling. ‘You’ll dry out and Alice will soon be back.’
Jeez, now I’m talking to a house. It’s either delayed shock, or there’s something seriously wrong with my mental health. Maybe that’s why I’ve not felt right for weeks. Anxiety and dissatisfaction are always with me these days and I’ve started craving the great outdoors. I want to see grass and trees and wide-open spaces rather than bricks and concrete. During my lunch breaks, I’ve been going for walks along the Regent’s Canal towpath, just to see some water and greenery. I’ve even started agreeing with people who say that the Barbican is ugly.
‘It’s not fair,’ I mutter, scuffing up gravel on the path. There I was, minding my own business and getting along just fine on my own, with no family complications and no responsibilities. And now I can’t stop worrying about Alice or thinking about Josh or talking to inanimate objects. Thank you so much, Cornwall. I kick at a stone, which sails over Alice’s garden gate and plops into a massive puddle in her garden. Ripples spread out around the palm tree.
The splash distracts a couple of men with clipboards who are checking the harbour wall for damage and they give me a weird look. They must think I’m the local nutter. Putting my head down, I hurry back towards the pub so I can help Roger and Kayla get the place ready for opening time. It’s the least I can do after they’ve both been so kind.
Then I’ll head to the hospital and see what help Alice needs before I leave Salt Bay. And I’d better have a word with Emily, because she can hardly move into a waterlogged house. And what has Toby done with Alice’s valuable painting? I wouldn’t put it past him to flog it on the quiet.
So much to do, and so many complications.
Chapter 32
I get horribly lost in the hospital. Heaven knows how when I’m used to finding my way round a massive city but, by the time I puff into Alice’s ward, I’m hot, bothered, and ten minutes later than I meant to be.
It didn’t help that the handles on my carrier bag gave up the ghost as I came through the hospital entrance and dumped everything on the floor. Scrabbling round picking up old-lady nighties, big pants and tins of talcum powder isn’t the best way to keep to schedule. The talc and pants are now shoved into my bag out of sight, the nighties – donated by Margery – are piled over one arm, and under the other I’ve got various magazines to help Alice pass the time.
At first I can’t see Alice in the ward but then I spot her sitting propped up against her pillows. She’s talking to another patient shuffling past the foot of her bed so I wait and watch her, shocked at how much she’s changed seemingly overnight. At home, Alice is a fabulous advert for the older woman. She’s bright and sassy and gets on with life in spite of her health problems. But here she looks out of place and old and frail, as though her spark has been extinguished. Obviously she’s had a huge shock and anyone her age would take time to recover from being manhandled through a flood. But, I realise with overwhelming sadness, this is how Alice will become if she ever has to leave Tregavara House. It just can’t happen. Whatever it takes, Alice has to go home to Salt Bay and stay there.
‘Annie.’ Alice’s face lights up and she opens her arms wide. ‘How fortunate for me that you happened to be visiting yesterday.’
Dumping nighties and magazines on her bed, I lean over and give her a huge hug. A wave of emotion sweeps over me and, much to my embarrassment, I begin to weep. Alice rocks me like a child and whispers in my ear, ‘My dear girl, you were so brave coming to rescue me. Your mother and grandparents would be proud of you.’ Which just sets me off even more. Finding long-lost family is turning me into a right old cry baby.
‘Ahem.’
When I look up tearfully from Alice’s bosom, Toby is towering over us. His face is obscured by the biggest bouquet of exotic flowers I’ve ever seen but I can tell it’s him by the red trousers and tan leather loafers on sock-less feet. He carefully places the flowers on top of the People’s Friend and Woman’s Weekly and air-kisses Alice on both cheeks.
‘It’s good to see you looking well, Alice.’
Alice settles back in the bed and the cellophane-wrapped flowers rustle. ‘I’m fine, thank you Toby, and not sure why they’re insisting on keeping me in. It’s such a nuisance. Thank you for the beautiful flowers; that’s very kind of you. Now why don’t the two of you sit down and tell me what’s happening back at home.’
Toby and I draw up chairs on opposite sides of Alice’s bed and sit eyeballing one another. He’s got a nerve turning up with flowers after abandoning me and Alice to drown. It’s lucky that Josh – nope. I dig my nails into my palms until it hurts. I’m not going to think about Josh any more because it makes me sad.
‘So tell me, what state is my house in?’ asks Alice, closing her eyes as though she doesn’t really want to know.
‘I went and had a look at it today. The house is fine and the water’s gone down but it’s going to take a while for the old place to dry out.’ I gently squeeze Alice’s bony hand and she squeezes me back. ‘What are you going to do until you can move back in?’
Alice opens her eyes. ‘My friend Penelope rang the ward this morning and said I can move in with her for a while. The real Penelope,’ she adds when I look sceptical. ‘So I won’t be homeless and Tregavara House can be fixed. No one was hurt which is the main thing and I still have my photo of David.’ She smiles at the photo on her bedside table. ‘But I must have lost so many other possessions. I have insurance, of course, but some things can’t be replaced.’
‘There’s one piece of good news. Toby managed to save the painting in your sitting room; the one of the lady on the cliffs with the sea behind her.’
‘Did you? That’s marvellous, you clever thing.’ Alice beams at Toby. ‘I couldn’t bear to think of it being damaged when it’s been a part of Tregavara House for so many decades. That’s the best news I’ve had all day.’
Toby gives a faint smile and starts fidgeting.
‘Toby also has something to tell you about the painting, don’t you Toby?’
‘I suppose I do.’ Toby puffs a few times like women I’ve seen giving birth on TV. ‘I’ve done some research recently and I believe that the painting might be by an artist called Ludo Van Teel. If it is, it could be quite valuable.’ He glances at me across the hospital bed. ‘Very valuable in fact. It could be worth around, um, half a million pounds.’
‘Or even more.’
‘Yes, or even more,’ says Toby, resignedly.
‘Gosh, that is a lot of money,’ gasps Alice, her face more pale than ever. ‘I – I’m not sure what to say. To think that a painting worth that much money has been hanging in the sitting room my entire life and none of the family knew it.’ She slowly shakes her head and breathes out heavily. ‘Good heavens, Toby, it’ll take time for that news to sink in. But it’s so clever of you to find that out. You’ve always been such a good boy to me.’
She pats Toby’s arm and at least he has the good grace to look embarrassed.
The subject of the painting is dropped, much to Toby’s relief, and for the next half an hour we talk mostly about the flood. Alice wants to go over and over what happened as though talking about it will help to make things better, whereas I’d rather forget the whole sorry event. But I let her lead the conversation and she begins to look more like Normal Alice after a while.
After telling us for the fourth time that Charlie is her hero, Alice starts yawning and Toby and I leave so she can take a nap. She
needs to conserve her strength because Jennifer is visiting later – and though beneath her bluster Jennifer is quite kind and caring, her bluster can still be rather draining.
Toby and I kiss Alice’s dry, papery cheek and walk out of the ward together. He’s carrying the huge bouquet because Alice reckons the hospital discourages flowers at the bedside. Something to do with hygiene rules. And we’re almost at the lift when he thrusts the blooms at me.
‘You’d better have these. You deserve them,’ he grunts. ‘What I did’ – he swallows hard – ‘perhaps it wasn’t the best thing in the circumstances. I’m not saying that I regret saving the painting but maybe I should have helped you to get Alice safely out of the house first. I’m sorry.’ Staring straight ahead, he presses the button to summon the lift.
Taking the flowers, I breathe in their heady scent. There are lilies, small buds that look like pale pink orchids, and other exotic, brightly coloured flowers I don’t recognise. They must have cost a fortune.
‘Thank you for your apology, and I guess everything worked out all right in the end. We’re both OK and I’m glad the painting’s not ruined. Whether it’s worth a fortune or not, it’s still a beautiful picture.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’ murmurs Toby, staring at his feet. ‘It would have been a shame to lose it.’
The lift is taking ages to arrive. But at least the delay gives me a chance to tackle the elephant that’s still very much in the room.
I move closer to Toby so that no one can overhear us. ‘I spoke to Josh about the pregnancy thing you mentioned and he said the proper story is that you got his sister Lucy pregnant and you’ve had nothing to do with her or her daughter Freya since.’