Summer at 23 the Strand

by Linda Mitchelmore

  ‘Fred?’

  ‘He’s the owner. So you’ll have the cake, yes? For your daughters?’ Ana waved an arm towards a rather large man who was walking along behind the counter with a bit of a limp, Belle noticed.

  ‘Thank you,’ Belle said. ‘And thank Fred for me.’

  She’d come here again. She’d have to portion out her spending money to be able to do it but it felt good in here. And what was more, Ana and Fred’s kindness had stopped the cold feeling she’d got from Fiona’s rebuff earlier.

  Full of coffee, and milk and cake, Belle and the girls walked back along the prom, the girls walking on the low wall, or rather wobbling, because the huge red stones it was made of were all different shapes and sizes. When they got to the dead end where all the chalets were, the girls jumped from the wall and began to swing on the railings, like monkeys. At the beginning of the holiday Belle might have yelled at them not to do that as it was dangerous, but she had, at last, begun to relax a little. She’d made herself stop worrying the girls would split their heads open swinging from the railings. She’d stopped worrying they’d drown when they stepped into three inches of seawater at low tide. She’d stopped worrying they might swallow the sand on their fingers when they ate their picnic lunches. The weather had been warm and sunny apart from one day when there’d been a bit of cloud.

  ‘Belle!’

  Fiona. As Belle and the girls neared their chalet, Fiona came out of hers, Cooper in her arms. She walked carefully down the steps with her precious cargo.

  ‘Hi,’ Belle said.

  ‘Hi. Gosh, you all look as though you’ve had a lovely day.’

  ‘We have. You?’

  Fiona made a so-so gesture with her head.

  ‘I’ve come to apologise,’ she said. ‘I was really short with you the other day and I didn’t mean to be. I was having a bit of a moment.’

  ‘A bit of a moment,’ Belle repeated. ‘Some of my moments last for days!’

  ‘I thought you’d say something like that,’ Fiona said. ‘I don’t know I’ve ever met anyone like you. But anyway, I’m sorry.’

  ‘No need to be,’ Belle said. ‘Want to talk about it? Your “bit of a moment”, I mean.’

  ‘Your place or mine?’ Fiona said.

  Belle felt a tug on her T-shirt then. It was Chloe.

  ‘Can we go on the beach, Mummy? Please. We don’t want to do colouring again.’

  ‘Oh, bless her,’ Fiona said. ‘She remembers the last time we had a chat, she and Emily did colouring.’

  ‘Got a memory like an elephant, that one,’ Belle said. She reached down and ruffled the top of Chloe’s head. ‘No, you don’t have to do colouring. Fiona and I can chat on the beach, can’t we?’

  ‘We certainly can. I’ll just go and lock up, and I’ll be with you.’

  A retaining wall was uncovered at low tide, so Belle and Fiona sat on that while the girls ran to and from the water’s edge, or stopped to pick up shells and pebbles to add to the vast quantity they’d brought back from the beach after each visit and left in a pile in the corner of the deck. Somehow, Belle was going to have to spirit those back onto the beach when the girls weren’t looking before they went home.

  Now she was sitting there and, having instigated the meeting, Belle thought Fiona looked decidedly uneasy.

  ‘So,’ Belle said. ‘The “bit of a moment”?’

  Fiona had put Cooper in a carrying chair beside her on the wall, and she shrugged, her shoulders going almost to her ears.

  ‘I was having a sort of panic attack. Breathing fast, feeling faint, that sort of thing. I’ve never experienced anything like it before but I’ve had a few since Cooper was born, always when I’m on my own. They seem to be getting worse, not better. Sam was out running so, although I was feeling jittery, I thought I’d test myself and take Cooper out. I walked to the harbour easily enough but on the way back my legs just turned to jelly and it was as much as I could do to keep upright. Did you ever feel like that?’

  Oh dear, what to say here? Belle had felt a million things as a new mum, but with no Mark around after Emily was born she’d had no option but to do a lot of things that made her jittery.

  ‘No,’ Belle said. ‘But my situation was different. It was either go out or turn into Miss Havisham, so out it was.’

  ‘Oh!’ Fiona clapped both hands over her mouth. ‘Sam said that! That I’d turn into Miss Havisham if I stayed indoors all the time. He just doesn’t understand.’

  ‘Well, he wouldn’t, would he?’ Belle said. ‘His hormones haven’t been hit by a ten-ton truck as a result of having a baby, have they? Not that I’m dissing him. I’m sure he’s a great bloke.’

  And then, as though her thoughts were being controlled by some other being, Aaron popped into Belle’s head… he understood how it was for her on her own with two little ones, and no cash, and not a lot of company, didn’t he? Why was she thinking of him now, when Fiona needed her?

  ‘Oh he is. Really,’ Fiona said.

  ‘Just asking then, and don’t shoot, but why the running all the time? Is he like that at home?’

  ‘He runs, yes,’ Fiona said, ‘but not all the time. He says he’s taking advantage of the fact we’re computer-free here. He spends a lot of time online when we’re home. That was my choice, to have the lowest level of communication we could have on this holiday. Just simple phones.’

  ‘We’ve got something in common then, with simple phones. I knew there had to be something. I went for the least expensive option available and I text mostly because that’s the cheapest. And that’s not a cue for you to get the violin out.’

  Fiona stuffed the muslin cloth back in Cooper’s carry chair.

  ‘I feel better already, talking to you,’ Fiona said. ‘But joking apart, I do seriously question my ability to be a mother, even though it was my choice. Sam wasn’t so sure, but I’m not getting any younger, so we went for it.’

  ‘Spare me the details!’ Belle laughed. ‘And talking of the love of your life, because something tells me he is, here he is now, like someone out of Chariots of Fire, haring along the beach.’

  ‘Oh,’ Fiona said. ‘I’ll get back now.’ She stood and picked up Cooper’s carry chair, hooking it into the V of her arm. ‘Thanks, you know, for the chat. I feel heaps better. Not going as mad as I thought I might be.’

  And then Fiona skedaddled back to her chalet with almost indecent haste, and Belle was left wondering if she’d ever feel that joy at seeing someone again. Even Aaron. Given time.

  It had been a long day. But with the girls now in bed and asleep, Belle rang Anne on her mobile.

  ‘Anne? It’s me, Belle.’

  ‘Oh, that stranger,’ Anne said, but there was a little laugh in her voice. ‘Thought you’d been whisked off by a tall, handsome fisherman and we’d see you no more.’

  ‘Ha ha,’ Belle said. ‘I should have rung before and I’m sorry about that.’

  ‘And so you should be,’ Anne admonished. ‘And there was me worrying you’d all drowned or something.’

  ‘Well, worry no more. The girls and I are having a great time. They’re as brown as nuts, and in danger of going feral they’re spending that much time outdoors.’

  ‘Good. That’s how it should be.’

  ‘So, what I’m trying to say, Anne, is thanks for the gift of this holiday. I didn’t know it but it’s just what I needed.’

  ‘Ah, but I knew it was just what you needed, didn’t I?’

  ‘Seems you did. Is my flat still standing?’

  Suddenly Belle was flooded with a wave of homesickness.

  ‘It is. But better bring your sunglasses back with you. You’ve got a yellow front door now.’

  ‘Yellow?’

  ‘As in bananas and buttercups. Glossy like the latter. That maintenance bloke did it. I don’t suppose you asked him to, did you?’

  No. Belle hadn’t asked him to but she remembered Chloe dancing around him when he’d been painting railings outside and telling
him yellow was her favourite colour and did he have any yellow paint. What a kind thing to do.

  ‘Aaron,’ Belle said. ‘He’s called Aaron.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Anne said. ‘Anyway, bring me a stick of rock, and get off that phone. I know you’re pay-as-you-go. I’ll sleep easy tonight now I know you’re alive and kicking. Night night, sleep tight.’

  ‘Hope the bugs don’t bite,’ Belle finished, her voice hoarse with emotion at her old friend’s kindness and love, but the signal had broken up.

  She’d take a stick of rock for Aaron too. Just as a little joke, but he’d know she’d been thinking about him by the gesture, wouldn’t he?

  Belle took her book out onto the deck to read. There was enough natural light to read by still, and when that went she’d open the door a little and read by the light from the chalet. She hadn’t read much, just a couple of chapters, but she was enjoying it.

  And then she heard crying. Loud female crying. Coming from 24 The Strand. Fiona? Belle hadn’t heard the baby cry much, if at all. But she had just seen Fiona’s man – about half an hour ago – in running gear, jumping down onto the beach before running off in the direction of the harbour. Again.

  The sobs from next door got louder. A whole ton of ‘what ifs’ went through Belle’s mind. What if Fiona’s man had thumped her one? Domestic violence was classless, wasn’t it? What if he’d called time on their relationship? Belle knew how that felt. She put her book face down on the table, left the front door of her chalet slightly ajar and went to investigate. She wouldn’t go in. Just stand in the doorway so she could hear if Chloe and Emily woke up needing her. She had a gut feeling that Fiona needed her more right now.

  Belle knocked, quite loudly. The noise sort of echoed in the still of the evening. The moon was just beginning to get up, a hazy half-moon just above the horizon.

  The crying stopped and then the door of 24 The Strand slowly opened and Fiona’s red, blotched, mascara-streaked face peered out.

  ‘Yes?’ she said.

  ‘Um,’ Belle said. She could hardly ask if Fiona was all right because she patently wasn’t, even though she’d been cheerful enough earlier when she’d rushed off so she’d be there when Sam got back. So Belle said the first thing that came into her head. ‘I was just wondering if you could loan me some, er, sugar. Just a screw of it in a bit of paper. For my tea. Please. If you’ve got any.’

  ‘Sugar,’ Fiona said, and seemed to crumple. Belle could see the baby asleep on the couch, tucked in safely with cushions that had sailing boats and seagulls on them just like the ones in her own chalet.

  ‘Yes. But it doesn’t matter if you haven’t got any. I heard crying and…’

  ‘Sorry if I disturbed you.’

  ‘You didn’t. Look, I saw your bloke go out earlier so, if you’re on your own, why don’t you pick up Cooper and come into mine? I’d come in here – if you want me to that is – only I won’t leave my girls.’

  ‘No. Of course not.’ Fiona wiped the sleeve of her linen top across her eyes. ‘Would you mind? If I come in for a bit? Sam’s gone for a run. He’ll be about two hours and… shit, I’m rubbish at this motherhood thing. I’m scared.’

  ‘Then we’ll be scared together,’ Belle said.

  ‘I’ll just leave a note for Sam and be right there. Thanks.’

  Belle ran back to her chalet and checked on the girls who were sleeping with their arms wrapped round one another. She pulled Chloe’s long, fair hair back from her face and plonked a kiss on her daughters’ heads. She grabbed the box of Kleenex she kept beside the bed in case of sniffy noses in the night. She’d seen a film once where someone was pouring their heart out and the person they were pouring it out to did nothing but hand them tissue after tissue.

  And then Fiona was there with Cooper.

  ‘Shall I open the wine?’ Belle said.

  ‘One won’t hurt.’

  ‘I’d say one is flipping essential at the moment.’

  And I probably need it more than you do, seeing as I seem to have taken on the role of shoulder to cry on big time.

  Belle went to the fridge for the wine and came back with the now-half-empty bottle and two glasses.

  ‘The thing is, Belle,’ Fiona said, accepting a glass, ‘you seem so capable. I see you with your girls with their hair all brushed and looking so clean and tidy in their shorts and T-shirts, and when you’re all on the beach, playing, they come back to you all the time for a hug and to be picked up. And I don’t know how to be like that.’

  ‘It’ll come,’ Belle said. ‘Cooper’s a bit small to tell you he loves you to the moon and back yet, but he will.’

  ‘Oh God, I hope so. We had a little bit of a “do” just now, me and Sam. I was moaning that I looked a mess since having Cooper and he said that was nonsense, I looked just fine to him. He said Cooper had to come first at the moment because he’s so helpless. I know he’s right but it’s hard. And I am managing without all the things I usually do, like pedicures, manicures, waxing, the gym, getting my roots done and all that sort of stuff, to stay looking the same Fiona that Sam fell in love with. No, scratch that. I’m not managing at all.’

  ‘Babies don’t care what sort of mess you look. Not that I’m saying you look a mess. You know jimjam days?’

  Fiona nodded.

  ‘Well, I had jimjam weeks. And I’ve never had a manicure or pedicure, been to a gym or been waxed, never mind the cost of expensive hair-dos, but I can see once a woman gets on that particular ride it would be hard to get off.’

  ‘Jimjam weeks?’ Fiona said, struggling to smile.

  ‘Yep. Went to bed and got up in the same jimjams more than a few times. But, hell, it didn’t kill us.’

  ‘I’m glad to know that,’ Fiona said. She knocked back her glass of wine. ‘I don’t suppose I could bother you for a cup of tea, could I?’

  ‘No bother.’

  ‘One sugar,’ Fiona said. ‘Oh, you haven’t got any sugar. I’ll…’

  ‘I’m a terrible liar,’ Belle said. ‘I’ve got plenty of sugar. That was just an excuse to come round. I was being nosy about the crying. I saw your Sam go out earlier. I’ll just make the tea.’

  ‘I’m being a drain,’ Fiona said, now with a mug of tea in her hands. ‘Sam wants me to go to the doctor. He thinks I might have post-natal depression. I keep crying. And…’ She stopped talking, looked at Cooper, leaned in as if to kiss him and then jerked her head back to look at Belle. ‘And I don’t think I love Cooper,’ she finished in a whisper.

  Belle had never had post-natal depression but she knew plenty who had. She’d bet her last ten-pence piece that Fiona was suffering too. What to say now? She took a deep breath.

  ‘Motherhood’s a bit like sprouts, Fiona. Well, I think it is. You know, they’re obligatory at Christmas and everyone’s supposed to eat them, especially if your mother or your granny or some aged aunt has cooked them. ‘Oh, you’ll love them,’ they all say. And they add all sorts of things like bacon and chestnuts and lemon and herbs and so on, but still some people would rather love a Tasmanian Devil. Me? I got to love them eventually, sort of like a slow burn.’

  Fiona was staring at her open-mouthed.

  ‘The sprouts or your girls?’

  ‘Both. Although I lucked out not getting the depression.’

  Fiona made a strange, strangled, gurgly sort of sound.

  ‘Oh God, sorry. Not appropriate? My mouth running away with me. Too long on my own with only kiddywinks’ gobbledegook for company.’

  Fiona began to laugh. Belle wondered if she was having some sort of breakdown, going from one emotion to the other so quickly.

  ‘You’re priceless, Belle. You really are. How come you’re here on your own with the girls? Errant husband notwithstanding.’

  Belle told her about Anne Maynard and how she’d won the competition and given the prize to Belle as a present. Some spending money too.

  ‘And you? You don’t look like the sort of woman who holidays in a teen
sy chalet in the summer holidays when the place is heaving with kids.’

  There was so much each of them didn’t know about the other yet, wasn’t there?

  ‘Hmm,’ Fiona said. ‘And that’s not helping. Usually, Sam and I go to Italy or the South of France. Corsica. Sicily. But that would mean having staff to do the cooking and cleaning and work in the grounds, and I didn’t want that. I just wanted it to be Sam, and Cooper, and me. Simple. Just getting to know one another as a family. Sam had booked a villa in Sardinia as a surprise but I begged him to cancel. And then I found this.’ She placed Cooper down on Belle’s couch and tucked the cushions around him. Belle was about to jump in and say she’d swap a chalet for staff in a villa in Sardinia – or anywhere else for that matter – any day, but Fiona took a quick breath and carried on. ‘I used to come here with Nanny. A fortnight every summer. We stopped in a hotel – in a suite – but we spent our days on the beach or taking boat rides, or going to the zoo. It never seemed to rain. I wanted that for Cooper.’

  Boat rides? The zoo? Belle hadn’t done either of those with her girls yet, but it didn’t seem to matter because they’d had a lovely time without them.

  ‘Well, it hasn’t rained since we’ve been here,’ Belle said. ‘Is your grandmother still alive? Mine’s not. I only ever had the one… well, the one I knew about who knew about me… and she died when I was eleven.’

  Fiona ran a tongue along her lips as though they’d suddenly dried, then she pressed them together.

  ‘I didn’t mean it was my grandmother who brought me here. It was my nanny I came with.’

  ‘Like a servant?’ Belle said. She’d never met anyone who’d had servants before – it was a different world to the one she lived in.

  ‘Not exactly. Nanny was part of the family until I was eleven. My parents both worked – they still do, my mother as a GP and my father as a cardiac surgeon. And then, I passed the 11 Plus and my parents decided I could go to grammar school and they’d save all the private-school fees. So Nanny went to another family who needed her.’

  ‘What? Just like that? Cut her off? Separated you? Did you miss her?’