Lavender Lane

by Christina Jones

  She joined the queue for taxis. Even she blanched at the thought of travelling alone on the tube in the evening. She shook her head sadly. So many things had changed.

  The queue moved quickly, and she settled back into her seat after giving the driver her destination.

  Bob and Amy would have kittens if they knew she had come to London without telling them. She only hoped they wouldn’t ring until tomorrow night, when she’d be safely back home.

  The driver stopped outside the small West London hotel and opened the door.

  ‘Mind how you go, love. The paths are a bit slushy. We’ll be getting more snow before morning, I reckon.’

  Cicely paid him, tipping handsomely as she always did, and he carried her bag into the hotel foyer.

  ‘Mrs Phillips,’ she told the receptionist. ‘I’ve booked a room for tonight. I’m not too late for the dining room, am I? I did reserve a table and my guests may have arrived before me.’

  The receptionist assured her with a smile that they would be delighted to see her in the dining room at any time up to ten thirty, that her guests had not yet arrived, and did she want assistance with her luggage?

  Cicely looked down at her one bag.

  ‘No, thank you, dear,’ she said with a smile.

  She was still smiling as she unlocked the door of her room. What a nice place! So friendly!

  It hadn’t taken a great deal of sleuthing to discover where Matt and Sally were staying, and it was so convenient – their hotel was close enough for them to join her for dinner.

  In normal circumstances, she would have preferred not to have any of the family around on this very special evening, but Matt and Sally – and dear little Kim – were very important to her. It was her duty to try to pour oil on the troubled waters of Lavender Cabs and heal this rift in the Phillips family.

  Of course, she thought as she removed her hat and coat, Sally and Matt had been very surprised to receive her telephone call telling them that she would be in town, and even more intrigued when she’d told them she wouldn’t be alone. She chuckled to herself, wondering what their reaction would be. The youngsters weren’t the only ones who could spring surprises!

  She just had time to freshen up before she went down to the restaurant to meet her real reason for visiting London …

  ‘I gather Gran arrived about an hour ago,’ Matt told Sally as she settled Kimberley in her high-chair at the table. ‘The head waiter says she’ll be with us shortly. I wonder who she’s got with her?’

  Sally smiled as she sank into her own seat. ‘She’s so amazing, it could be anyone! But I don’t care as long as it’s no one from home hell-bent on giving us a lecture on family responsibilities! She must have used a private detective to find us so quickly! I thought we’d been really discreet.’

  Mark grinned. ‘Never underestimate Gran Phillips. I learned that from childhood. She always knew absolutely everything that was going on, and we never knew how. All the same, I’m pleased she’s here, whoever she’s brought with her. It might soften the blow a bit once we get back home.’

  Cicely, elegant in dark green wool dress, sat in the hotel’s small bar and glanced at her watch. She knew Matt and Sally were waiting in the dining room, and she was waiting, too.

  The door opened, Cicely looked up – and the years fell away.

  ‘Sam!’ She rose to her feet. ‘Oh, Sam! You haven’t changed a bit!’

  ‘Neither have you!’ The tall, sun-tanned man with silver hair clasped her hands tightly. ‘I can’t believe it! After all these years!’

  Smiling, tears glistening, they hugged each other.

  ‘Oh, goodness.’ Cicely scrabbled for her handkerchief. ‘I’m crying! I never cry …’

  ‘You did once,’ Sam said softly, in an accent that still had traces of West Country overlaid with American. ‘So did I.’

  ‘We were just children then.’ Cicely dabbed at her eyes. ‘And foolish.’

  ‘And very much in love.’ Sam steered her towards the bar. ‘Have we got time for a drink before we go in to dinner? I really need some time to get used to being with you again before I start meeting your family.’

  ‘Yes – yes.’ Cicely smiled at the barman. ‘My grandchildren are waiting for me in the dining room. I wonder – could you let them know that I won’t be long?’

  ‘Of course.’ The barman nodded. ‘And can I get you a drink?’

  ‘Whisky for me,’ Sam said and then looked gently at Cicely. ‘And unless my memory is fading, a gin and tonic for the lady.’

  They took their drinks to a corner table.

  ‘I didn’t think this would ever happen.’ Cicely’s fingers trembled on her glass. ‘All these years of writing to each other since we’ve been widowed … how long is it? Ten years now?’

  ‘Nearer twelve.’ Sam drank his whisky with relish. ‘And I thought I’d never see you again. I never thought I’d be flying back across the Atlantic, not at my age … And your family? They know nothing about me?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Cicely agreed. ‘After all, what could I tell them?’

  ‘Not the truth, that’s for sure!’ Sam laughed. ‘After all, it was pretty shocking … At least I know all about them, thanks to your letters.’ He paused, drained his glass and held out his hand. ‘I never stopped loving you, Cicely, not even after I married Margie. Oh, we had a happy marriage – but you were always tucked away in a corner of my heart.’

  ‘We have – a once-in-a-lifetime love.’ Cicely swallowed. ‘That’s what you called it. A love that caused a scandal at the time …’

  Sam moved closer, still holding her hand.

  ‘Yes. I was considered totally unacceptable by everyone – and you were engaged to be married to the vicar! Fairly meaty stuff by anyone’s standards – let alone for a small Oxfordshire village in those days. Still, we did the decent thing … and I’ve regretted it ever since.’ He smiled down gently at her. ‘But there must still be some people around Appleford who remember what happened between us?’

  ‘Not many. I married David and became a very good, if slightly unconventional, vicar’s wife. David was a wonderful man – he put it all down to youthful high spirits. We were probably a seven-day wonder.’

  ‘And now look at us.’ Sam laughed. ‘We look like Darby and Joan! No one would ever suspect.’

  ‘Especially not the family! My grandchildren take part in some pretty hair-raising activities, but I think what we got up to would make even them think twice.’

  Sam nodded. ‘You were the best wing-walker in the business! Nerves of steel. I fell in love with you on that first trip – you were never frightened.’

  ‘I trusted you – and the plane, of course. Anyway, it was the most exhilarating moment of my life, that first flight.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I really think we ought …’

  ‘Of course,’ Sam agreed. ‘We shouldn’t keep your grandchildren waiting. How are you going to introduce me?’

  ‘As an old friend from more than fifty years ago.’ Cicely chuckled. ‘They’ll just have to let their imaginations fill in the gaps.’

  ‘You haven’t changed a bit, have you?’ Sam slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. ‘You’re still mischievous. Still daring and unconventional. Still beautiful. Still utterly heartbreaking.’

  ‘And still in love with you,’ Cicely whispered as they left the bar. ‘Some things never change.’

  ‘Our lives are going to, though.’ Sam squeezed her hand as they walked towards the restaurant. ‘That is, as long as you haven’t changed your mind.’

  ‘Not this time.’ Cicely returned the squeeze. ‘But how they’ll take it, I really don’t know.’

  Chapter Seven

  Disillusioned

  ‘I’ve had enough of this!’ Judith’s strident tones echoed from the cab radio. ‘I’m calling it a day!’

  Amy flicked the switch on the intercom.

  ‘Sorry, but you’re not. There are two more fares waiting at the supermarket, and I’ve got three
customers here in the office to go to Oxford. Sorry, Judith. It’s going to be a long evening.’

  ‘But it’s snowing!’ Judith’s voice wailed. ‘And everyone’s wet and grumbling and –’

  ‘That’s what Lavender Cabs is all about,’ Amy said firmly. ‘You wanted to be part of it, and now you are. When you’ve finished at the supermarket and taken these people to Oxford, you can have a break.’

  As she decisively flicked the radio switch off, Debbie, sitting beside her at the desk, looked at her with wide eyes.

  ‘Goodness! No one ever speaks to Mum like that!’

  ‘She’ll have to get used to it,’ Amy returned tersely. ‘She and your dad wanted to be part of this business. Now’s an ideal opportunity for them to learn that it’s not all wine and roses.’

  Debbie giggled, and Amy found herself warming to her. She and her brother weren’t so bad. It wasn’t their fault they had been spoiled rotten.

  ‘Would you like to have a go on the radio now? All the taxis have their own numbers so you know who you’re speaking to. The booking sheet is here with the diary, and it’s all backed up on the screen. You can keep track of where they all are with this street map.’

  ‘I can’t!’ Debbie shook her head. ‘I’ll make a mess of it!’

  ‘Nonsense. All you have to do is speak as if you’re on the phone. You’ll soon get the hang of it …’

  Amy watched as Debbie tentatively consulted the sheets.

  ‘I’ll go and make us some coffee. Oh, and at the same time, you’ll have to answer the phone and take the book-ins.’

  ‘What?’ Debbie blinked in amazement. ‘I’ll need four pairs of hands and three mouths! I thought Mum and Dad said this was a doddle. Money for old rope. Dad said –’

  ‘Did he indeed?’ Amy’s face was grim. ‘No doubt he’s thinking differently now.’

  While she was making the coffee, Amy kept an eye on Debbie. Dressed all in black, her hair a profusion of rainbow spikes, and with a diamond stud in her nose, she certainly didn’t look suited to office life.

  However, despite her appearance, Amy found her niece gentle and unworldly, with a dreamy nature better suited to creativity than commerce.

  ‘Thanks.’ Debbie took the coffee gratefully. ‘I’ve spoken to two of the drivers and it was all right – I think. Well, one of them was Uncle Bob, so he was very patient. And I’ve taken a phone call from Denchworth Drive. I’ve written it here …’

  ‘That’s fine. You’re doing very well. Now, would you like to call up your father and find out his position?’

  ‘No!’ she retorted sharply. ‘I mean, I’d rather you did it. They were furious about this, you know.’

  Laughing, Amy punched out Paul’s call sign. He didn’t answer for ages.

  ‘Were you out of the cab?’ she asked briskly when he responded.

  ‘No. Trying to get some sleep.’

  ‘Sleep! Where on earth are you?’

  ‘On the taxi rank outside the station, though I don’t see any need for me to be here. There are plenty of other cabs …’

  ‘Mostly from other companies!’ Amy snapped. ‘All waiting to meet the trains from London and Oxford! For goodness’ sake, Paul! This is your livelihood now. Those passengers are Lavender’s bread and butter – especially in this foul weather. Now, wake up and start to do some work!’

  ‘You can’t speak to me like that!’ Paul spat. ‘How dare you!’

  ‘Because Bob and I own Lavender,’ Amy said softly. ‘And because although you own shares, you are not an equal partner. You’ve bought your way into this business, Paul, so you must pull your weight like the rest of us. I’ll call you again in five minutes – and I’ll expect to find you with a fare!’

  When Amy turned from the console, Debbie was staring at her with saucer eyes.

  ‘No one’s ever spoken to Dad like that, Aunt Amy. I wish Dean could have heard you! You were wonderful!’

  Amy grinned. She and Bob had run a tight ship all their lives, and she certainly wasn’t going to carry any dead wood now – family or not.

  The office door opened, and Judith, looking extremely angry, stomped in.

  ‘I heard you talking to Paul,’ she said icily, ‘as did everyone else, and I’ll thank you to have more respect! Is that how you treat your workforce, Amy? Because if it is –’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ Amy broke in. ‘I never speak to any of the drivers like that, because I never have any need to. They’re not only our employees but also our friends. That’s how Lavender has always been run. We all work very hard, all of us, Judith. And that now includes you and Paul.’

  Judith was quivering with anger.

  ‘I’m going to speak to Mum and Dad tomorrow. This isn’t what we expected, you know. We thought –’

  ‘You thought you could buy your way in and change Lavender into something completely different. But Appleford doesn’t need a service station with a restaurant and a shop and a car showroom. Appleford needs a friendly, family-run garage and taxi firm – which is what they’ve got. And what they’re always going to have. Now –’ she smiled at her furious sister ‘– there’s a Mr and Mrs Winterton and a Miss Higgins in the waiting area. They need to go to Oxford. When you’ve finished that, pop back in and have a cuppa. You look frozen.’

  Amy and Debbie waited until Judith had stormed out of the office before looking at each other and exploding with laughter.

  ‘Oh, Aunt Amy!’ Debbie threw her arms round her neck. ‘I do love you! Do you think you could adopt us? I haven’t laughed so much for ages!’

  Amy returned her niece’s hug.

  ‘Your brother’s probably turned into a block of ice out in the garage. Go and give him a shout, Deb. Tell him the kettle’s on.’

  The radio crackled and Debbie stretched out a purple-fingernailed hand to answer it, but Amy shook her head.

  ‘I’ll get it. It’s Bob’s call sign. He’s probably coming in for a cup of tea. You run and get Dean, love.’

  As Debbie skipped happily out of the office, Amy grinned. She was so lucky. She and Bob had always been happy, always been content with each other and what they had. They were such good friends.

  Tonight, she thought, as she reached for the microphone, they would get a take-away and a bottle of wine and sit by the fire watching the snow falling and talk and laugh and dream …

  Maybe they would even watch that old film they’d recorded weeks ago. It had been popular during their courting days and they were looking forward to watching it again and reliving the memories. It would be a lovely evening …

  The radio was still beeping insistently and Amy flicked the switch.

  ‘OK, Bob Phillips, I heard you the first time! Your radar’s working well. We’re just putting the kettle on – again. I’ll dig out your mug – oh, and that goes for any of the rest of you who are in the vicinity and can spare a few minutes.’

  ‘Amy!’ The voice crackling into the office wasn’t Bob’s. ‘It’s Dennis. I’m in Bob’s cab. Amy – there’s been an accident. I was passing on the road by the railway cutting when I saw his car … he must have collapsed at the wheel. He’s unconscious. I’ve called an ambulance. They’re on their way but – Amy? Can you still hear me?’

  ‘Yes.’ Amy’s mouth was dry. ‘I can hear you. Dennis … is he …?’

  Tears burned her eyes, and her hands were shaking. Everything was a long way away. Over the microphone she could hear the unearthly wail of the ambulance siren.

  ‘Bob!’ Her lips trembled the word.

  ‘No! Please, no!’

  The revolving blue light of the ambulance found an echo in Amy’s brain. She felt sick with fear. Strong arms held her back from the taxi, but the light showed her all too clearly the shocking sight of Bob slumped over the steering wheel, with paramedics on either side of him.

  Snowflakes fell gently all around the shadowy figures as they rushed backwards and forwards.

  ‘He’ll be all right,’ Dennis, the driver who had f
ound Bob, assured her over and over again. ‘He’s in good hands.’

  ‘But what happened?’ Amy asked numbly for the thousandth time.

  Dennis shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea. There wasn’t another vehicle. Maybe he just skidded … He’ll be able to tell us once they get him out.’

  Would he? He was still unconscious. She had never felt so helpless, so alone.

  ‘Mrs Phillips?’ A young paramedic – he looked no older than Mitch – smiled kindly at her. ‘We’re going to take your husband to the Radcliffe. Would you like to come with us?’

  Amy nodded, and Dennis touched her arm.

  ‘Don’t worry about your car. I’ll get one of the other boys to pick it up. You go with him, Amy, and ring us as soon as there’s news or if you want a lift home or – well, anything …’

  Fresh tears welled in her eyes and wordlessly she squeezed his hand.

  Bob was on a stretcher now, covered with a blanket on which the snowflakes were settling in incongruous beauty. There were wires and an oxygen mask, and everything looked efficient and frightening as they gently lifted him into the back of the ambulance.

  She followed him in, staring as the paramedics checked dials and monitors.

  ‘Sit here.’ The young man indicated a seat beside Bob’s stretcher. ‘You can hold his hand on the journey – but we’ll have to strap you in.’ He gave a gentle smile. ‘We shan’t be observing the speed limit.’

  The journey was something Amy would never forget. Sitting clutching Bob’s frozen hand as the ambulance screamed through the darkness, she would always remember the jolting, the unearthly wail of the siren, the way that all the other traffic pulled over for them.

  ‘We’re going straight into A & E.’

  The paramedics were lifting Bob almost before the ambulance had stopped. ‘If you could go to reception and give them his details, Mrs Phillips? You’ll be able to see him as soon as he’s been examined.’

  The bright lights hurt Amy’s eyes as she pushed her way into the hospital.