‘You’re hardly the dregs,’ Lorna observed. And nor was Oshoba. He was continually on her mind – the kick of desire countered by the brake of guilt. That was one thing she couldn’t tell Kathy, dared not even tell Clare. He had phoned again last week and begged to …
‘Well, some of us do try. But the general apathy is terribly frustrating. I’ve hated it for the last eighteen months, so when Chris offered me the job I was over the moon!’
Lorna dragged her thoughts from grey blankets, black fingers on white breasts. ‘You must feel rather daunted, though. It sounds a pretty big undertaking.’
‘Yes, but Chris has done the donkey-work. She started ages ago, as soon as probate was cleared. All the building work’s completed. We’ve got thirty en-suite rooms in the main house and ten assisted-living apartments in a new block in the grounds. And the health spa’s finished. And they’ve converted the old stables and the coach-house to make staff living-quarters.’
‘Oh, the staff will live in?’
‘Some of us. I’ll be in the coach-house. I fell in love with it at first sight. It’s got such character. And you know how boringly fifties my flat is.’
‘When are you moving?’
‘Four weeks from today.’
‘So soon?’
‘Yes, I’ll be free of Oakfield by then. The Cedars isn’t opening until June, but Chris wants me on hand to help interview staff and do various bits and bobs. She’s planning a swanky launch party to publicize the place – inviting local dignitaries and GPs and what have you. It’ll be a kind of open day, with food and wine and tours of the house. Anyway, enough of me and my news! Let me show you the bumf for Agnes.’
‘We’ll look at it over lunch, shall we? I’ve made some carrot-and-orange soup. And beef Wellington to follow.’ Yes, Ms Unflappable had pulled out all the stops – quite a contrast with her own efforts in the past, when part of her job had been to entertain business clients. (Was the menu right? Suppose the cream sauce curdled? Would Mr A and wife get on with Mr B and mistress?) It was easy for her to blame their current peculiar eating habits on Ralph’s anti-social temperament, but in fact his suggestion that she stop cooking hadn’t been entirely selfish. True he hated long, elaborate meals, but he also wanted to reduce the stress on her.
‘You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble,’ Kathy said, as Lorna led the way into the kitchen. ‘Just a sandwich would’ve done.’
‘No, I wanted to make something special,’ Ms U responded airily. ‘I don’t often get the chance to cook.’ Well, that was true at least. In the last few weeks Ralph seemed to be surviving on whisky and tobacco, while she grabbed an apple or a hunk of cheese when time allowed. It certainly made a change to sit down to a proper meal.
‘The table looks pretty.’ Kathy unfolded her gingham napkin. ‘Those tulips are gorgeous.’
‘It’s another house-selling ploy – flowers everywhere, to create a good impression. But these I bought for us.’
Kathy took a spoonful of soup. ‘Mm, delicious. Bit different from the Oakfield variety!’
‘Yes, I remember the lumps!’
‘You must have found Oakfield awfully noisy compared to this place. I can’t hear a sound. Don’t you get lonely, though, stuck here on your own?’
‘Not now, with all the comings and goings. But I used to, yes. When Ralph was away, sometimes I didn’t speak to a soul for days.’
‘Well, you’ll soon be able to change all that. Have you thought about what sort of job you want?’
‘Not really.’ She’d hardly had time to job-hunt and anyway would need to enlist the help of Ms Unflappable to combat the apprehension she felt about working for an unknown boss and possibly having to deal with office bitchiness. To say nothing of having to travel on public transport. There’d be more choice of jobs in London, but that would mean being wedged chin to chest in claustrophobic trains and, worse, descending to the dreaded tube, fearing she might never reemerge. ‘Let me have a look through this stuff,’ she said, purposely changing the subject. ‘What I’d like to arrange for Agnes is – Damn! There’s the doorbell again. It must be the toner this time. Excuse me a second.’
‘We’ve made an appointment – eight o’clock tonight. But Kylie here’s busting for a pee. Can she use your toilet?’
‘Well, I …’ Ms Unflappable had chosen just this moment to disappear.
‘Please. It’s urgent. She’s only three and she can’t hold on.’
The child pushed past her father into the hall, a hand clamped over her crotch.
‘It’s through here,’ Lorna said, judging it safer to agree than risk a puddle on the carpet. She opened the cloakroom door for the child, whereupon the rest of the party, including the muddy-pawed Alsatian, trooped into the hall.
Lorna seethed inwardly. It was clearly a ploy to gain entry. Indeed the man was already peering into the sitting-room, while his wife inspected the stair-carpet and the two other women (sisters? friends?) fingered the ornaments on the table. Seeing this invasion of her home by strangers gave her a dismal foretaste of the future: being uprooted, losing all her possessions, having to start again from scratch in some alien little flat. Yes, Ms Unflappable had deserted her completely.
‘If you’re quite finished,’ she snapped, as the man sauntered down the hall, ‘I’ll see you this evening.’
Back in the kitchen with Kathy, she exploded. ‘Honestly! That wretched dog’s tramped mud all over the carpet.’
‘You shouldn’t have let them in. You’re too soft – it’s time you stood up for yourself. Take Ralph. It’s obvious to me he’s losing it, yet you still let him make all the important decisions. What about you, for heaven’s sake? I mean, this new job and everything – you don’t seem to have even considered what you actually want to do.’
‘Well, yes, I … have. As I said, I don’t like being so isolated, so I’d change that if I could. To tell the truth, I rather envy you, working in a community.’
Kathy stared at her for a minute, then clutched her arm in excitement. ‘That’s it, Lorna – of course! You must come and work with us. As it happens, Chris is looking for an administrator. The one she had lined up got pregnant and cried off. You’d be perfect for the job.’
‘Oh, I don’t know … I’ve never done anything remotely like that.’
‘You run your business, don’t you? Do the accounts and bookkeeping?’
‘Yes, but –’
‘Well, that’s what Chris wants – someone to deal with the residents’ fees and staff salaries. And chase debts. And judging by the office here you’re a model of efficiency. You can even design brochures, which would be jolly useful in the future, should Chris need help with marketing.’
‘But ours is the only one I’ve ever done.’
‘Doesn’t matter. It has the professional touch. Also you’re tremendously good with people – I noticed that at Oakfield. You got on well with everyone. A lot of them still miss you. Sharon and Frances, and Val especially. She says whenever you helped with darts or painting you’d get the others interested and bring them out of themselves. That’s a rare talent, Lorna. We want all our staff, even on the admin side, to relate well to the residents. And by the way, I heard about that time you gave Speranza what for.’
‘Gave who what for?’
‘The Kenyan nurse you found carrying on with Sunil in the lounge.’
‘God, I’d forgotten about that. I made an utter fool of myself.’
‘Not at all. It showed you had ideals. And courage. Those are exactly the qualities we need.’
‘But how on earth did you hear about it? It was the middle of the night – you must have left hours before.’
‘Oh, these things get around. And walls have ears, you know. Anyway, I was impressed.’
Was Kathy just being kind? No, she did have courage – she had stood up to Mr Hughes and lived to tell the tale.
Kathy seemed to have forgotten lunch, and Agnes. Her soup sat untouched as she continued eage
rly, ‘You’d be working with me, as manager, and because we’re friends already things would be so much easier. OK, the pay isn’t marvellous, but at least you’d be getting a regular salary without the worry of keeping a business afloat. Besides, staff get lots of perks, and it’s a beautiful place to work. Honestly, Lorna, it’s time you made a new start – like I‘m doing. We’re both coming up to forty, you know. We need to take stock. I’ve been battling on at Oakfield when I knew deep down it wasn’t right for me. Then one day I decided that I must do something about it and that if I didn’t make a move this year I never would.’
‘Yes, but it’s easier for you, Kathy. You’re not married. You’ve nobody else to consider.’
‘God! We’re back to bloody Ralph again! Why should he mind? He wanted you to find a job. Well, now you’ve as good as found one. Surely he’ll be pleased.’
‘There’s the phone – that might be him.’ Lorna took the call in the office, glad of a chance to be on her own and digest all that Kathy had said. The phone-call was fortunately brief: the estate agent again, arranging to show more people round.
She rang off and stood by her desk, looking at the framed map on the wall. Each of the coloured pins represented weeks of hard work, and often angst and arguments as well; yet, in spite of all that effort, her heart had never been in Astro-Sport. She was good with people – Kathy was right – and working at The Cedars she would be part of a team, part of a community. At Oakfield she’d enjoyed being needed: befriending Frances, counselling Sharon, helping Val with activities.
She leaned against the desk to rest her foot – that was another factor to be taken into account. She could hardly start a new job if she was going ahead with the second operation. But, since there was no guarantee that the second op would be any more successful than the first, she could simply decide to live with the pain and to hell with it. In fact it would make her a more sympathetic administrator, dealing with elderly residents who might themselves be in pain.
She walked slowly back to the kitchen and sat down. ‘I am tempted, Kathy, I must admit. Obviously I’ll have to discuss it with Ralph, and you and I will need to talk in more detail.’
‘Yes, and Chris has the final say, of course. But I know you’ll like each other. She’s very honest and direct, and though profit’s her main concern she shares a lot of my ideals. Oh, Lorna, I’m so excited! Shall I ring her now and tell her?’
‘No, wait until tomorrow. Ralph’s due back later this afternoon and I’ll discuss it with him then. I’ll give you a buzz tonight.’
‘OK, but let’s drink a toast. To us – a new start for both of us!’ ‘It’s madness, Lorna,’ Ralph said vehemently, getting up from his desk. ‘You can’t turn on the radio these days without hearing about another old folks’ home going down the tubes. The boom’s over – well and truly. This Chris or whatever her name is will be bankrupt before you know it, and you’ll be left high and dry.’
‘At least get your facts right, Ralph. Most of those homes had to close because the local authorities wouldn’t pay enough for their residents. But Chris’s aiming at a different market entirely. Her place will be more like a five-star hotel, except people can buy in services as and when they need them, like nursing, or help with bathing and dressing.’
‘Yes, and there’s the problem. How does she intend to find halfway-decent staff? You’ve only got to look at Oakfield House to see how impossible it is.’
‘But that’s the point. They’re deliberately setting out to avoid abuses, by –’
‘Fine talk in theory. But once the place opens its doors Chris’ll realize what she’s up against. Hell, we think we have problems with our clients, but at least they’re not gaga or incontinent.’
‘And nor will most of hers be. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing. Kathy says she’s had years of experience. She used to run a group of specialist hotels.’
‘That’s different altogether. Hotels don’t have the government breathing down their neck with endless petty regulations and miles of red tape.’
‘I bet they do,’ she said irritably. He was standing right behind her and she was trying to finish a complicated report.
‘Well, they certainly don’t have the social services turning up on the doorstep every five minutes to do spot checks.’
‘OK, according to you the venture’s doomed before it starts.’ Lorna jabbed at the keyboard with unnecessary force. ‘What do you suggest I do instead?’
He leaned over and took her hand. ‘Continue as my partner in the business.’
‘What?’
‘I’ve been reconsidering, Lorna. We’d be crazy to wind it up when we need every penny we can get. Last night, when you were showing people round, I rang George at the Sherborne golf club and he said he thinks we’ll get the contract.’
Indignantly she shook his hand off. ‘I told you that a fortnight ago, and you said you were sick to death of the business and there wasn’t a hope of running it without a house.’
‘OK, I over-reacted. I was very low at the time. But that job’s worth a heck of a lot. And it’s pretty straightforward stuff. In fact I could do the fitting myself at a push, to save on costs. They want pathways, teetops, cross-overs, a practice putting-green and –’
‘I know exactly what they want, Ralph. But you can’t keep chopping and changing like this. I mean, I’ve more or less accepted this job of Kathy’s, and now you say we’re back in harness.’ She already sensed the heavy straps pressing down again, the bit hurting her mouth as Ralph yanked on the reins. ‘Besides, we need money in hand for a big job like Sherborne. How are we going to pay for the materials?’
‘By juggling things very carefully. We delay paying the suppliers until our cheque from the golf club is safely in the bank. George is a decent enough chap. If I tell him we need payment on the nail I’m sure he’ll sort it out.’
‘That’s taking an awful risk, though. What if he’s off sick or gets the chop? They might not pay up for months.’
‘Now who’s being negative?’
‘Ralph, for goodness’ sake, we can’t afford to juggle things, as you put it. We’re in enough trouble as it is.’
Dejectedly he returned to his desk. Their chairs were back to back. She had often thought it significant that at work they should face in opposite directions, never meeting each other’s eyes. She heard him strike a match.
‘Ralph, please don’t smoke. We’ve got those people coming later.’
‘They won’t smell it in here.’
‘Of course they will.’
‘Don’t change the subject. What I’d like to know is, if you take this job with Kathy at the princely sum of £8 an hour, how are we meant to live?’
‘You get a job too.’
‘I’ve told you, no one wants me. Including my own wife it seems.’
‘Oh, Ralph …’ He sounded so forlorn. ‘I just can’t bear to lose this chance. It’s the sort of thing I’d really love to do. And Kathy and I get on so well …’
‘All right, go ahead. It’s not fair for me to stop you.’
She swivelled round to look at him: his shoulders were hunched, his head bowed. He had spoken not with bitterness but in a tone of utter desolation. This year he had lost so much: his financial clout, his pride, his self-esteem. And soon he would lose the house, which he had owned for half a lifetime. She went over to his chair and put her arm round him. ‘Can’t you run the business without me – get an assistant perhaps?’
‘And how do I pay her? In any case, it’s you I want. You know the business inside out. You’re brilliant at it. I’d never train anyone else to your standard.’
‘You … you’ve never said that before.’
‘I’m sorry, darling. I’ve taken you for granted. I realize I haven’t been at my best these last few months, what with all the strain and worry. But I love you, Lorna, and it means a tremendous lot to me that we work together. I’d hate that to change.’
‘Ralph, you told me we were
finished.’ She looked wearily at his cluttered desk. ‘Don’t you see how confusing it is if one day you say one thing, and the next you –’
‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘You’ve every right to be annoyed. But I’ve come to the conclusion that our only chance of staying solvent is to carry on as we were. We’ve got one decent-sized contract in hand – two, including Sherborne – and the Salisbury and Lewes tennis-courts in the pipeline, and at least six other jobs we’ve quoted for.’
‘We can’t count on getting more than two of those six – if that. You know how much undercutting goes on. That new team, Art-Grass, can hardly be breaking even at the ridiculous prices they charge, never mind making a profit.’
‘Yes, but they won’t survive. And we will. Anyway, if only two of the six come back to us it’s something.’
‘And how do we pay for materials?’
‘On credit.’
‘That’s risky too.’
‘No more than trying to exist on one piffling wage.’
She sighed in exasperation. ‘I just don’t believe you can’t get a job of some sort.’
‘Oh, stacking shelves in Tesco’s maybe. Except even they probably don’t employ the over-fifties. Anyway, that’s not the point. We’ve built up this business between us, darling. It’s our child, if you like, and we can’t simply give it up after nurturing it all this time.’
Their child, she thought with a shudder. Another miscarriage, another aborted mess flushed down the sluice. ‘I don’t think we’re very good at children, Ralph. They’ve cost us too much emotionally.’
‘You’re forgetting how well things went in the beginning. We lived comfortably for years.’
No, she hadn’t forgotten – nor ever would. When she had moved here as Ms Maguire she was skint and also in debt. She had brought nothing to the marriage except depression, insecurity and panic. Yet a few months later, as Mrs Pearson, she owned a joint share in a substantial house and a potentially profitable business, a snazzy little car, a wardrobe full of clothes, and private health insurance.
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