The Time of Their Lives

by Maeve Haran

  ‘Yes, obviously I do.’

  ‘But not enough to give up this . . . Suki. What kind of a stupid name is that anyway?’

  At that moment the phone he had left on the table began to vibrate.

  Bella grabbed it. ‘It’s her, isn’t it? Making sure you don’t change your mind and start behaving like a decent human being!’

  A sudden inspiration came to Bella. ‘I bet she’s outside!’ She threw the phone down and ran out of the front door into the night. It had started raining but the night was clear with a hint of mist over the new moon. At the end of the road a car flashed its lights. She’d been right.

  Bella ran down the road, her black Victorian skirt, with its lace fishtail, dragging in the puddles.

  A young woman sat in the driving seat watching Bella’s approach with growing apprehension. Bella wrenched open the door just as the woman turned on the ignition to try and drive off.

  ‘I’m sure this is all down to my father, but I wanted you to know that I blame you too!’ Bella screamed at her. And then she spat. She hadn’t meant to or planned to. It just happened.

  Which is when the red-haired home-wrecker in her father’s Audi turned on the car alarm.

  Everywhere along the street curtains twitched as the neighbours, all hoping it wasn’t their own car, witnessed Bella burst into tears, while Simon and Laura shouted at each other that all this was the other’s fault.

  Ella decided there was a small chance that the delinquent cat might somehow have got into her car and come with her to the allotment. It was definitely a long shot but she was getting desperate. She couldn’t lose Laura’s cat. Not ever. But especially not when the rest of her friend’s life was disintegrating around her.

  If it had been a hamster or a goldfish she could have just replaced it, but ginger toms were different and TomTom had a distinct personality. He was probably hanging around some restaurant being fed by the owners like bloody Top Cat.

  At least at the allotment there were plenty of willing helpers when she explained her predicament. They searched the rows of runner bean canes, their crop long dead, behind the manure heap and in the water tanks, as well as in all the sheds that were open, but there was no cat to be found.

  ‘Pity it wasn’t a dog,’ Stevie opined. ‘Dogs are easy. Someone takes it to the pound. But cats do what they fancy. We had one disappear for months then wander back in as if it had never been away. We’d all but given away his cat bowl.’

  ‘If I were you, I’d go and buy some tasty fish and leave it at the back door and watch out for it like Bill does with dog food for hedgehogs,’ Les suggested.

  ‘Do you get hedgehogs here?’ Ella couldn’t help being fascinated. ‘Right under the flight path to Heathrow? I thought they were such shy creatures.’

  Since there was no sign of TomTom at the allotment she decided to follow Les’s advice and get some fish. She had just bought half a pound of haddock when her phone rang. It was Laura.

  Ella knew at once that it was serious. Laura could hardly speak. ‘Can you come round? I don’t think I can bear being alone. I’m worried about Bella, and Sam’s barricaded himself into his room and won’t let me in.’

  ‘I’ll just nip home, then come at once.’

  ‘Ella?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Bring a bottle of wine.’

  ‘White or red?’

  ‘I don’t care as long as it’s alcohol.’

  Ella rushed up her front steps, unlocked the door and turned off the burglar alarm. She was about to put the fish outside the back door when she felt something wrap itself round her legs, almost knocking her over.

  ‘TomTom!’ she squealed with relief. The bloody animal had been at home all the time. ‘Come here, you stupid sodding animal. You don’t even know how you’ve made me suffer! I bloody hate you!’ He purred furiously in her ear. ‘You like being insulted, hey? TomTom the ginger masochist. Where the hell did you get to?’ She picked him up and stroked him.

  TomTom stretched in her arms and yawned happily. He was a beautiful specimen, the glowing picture of unthinking masculinity. ‘Your mistress would have been heartbroken. She’s had one man ruining her life, she doesn’t need to be abandoned by another.’ With ruthless efficiency she forced the still-purring cat into his cat carrier. ‘You’re a cat. You can at least plead that you’re following your natural instincts. And don’t tell me it’s the same for Simon or I’ll drop you in the Grand Union Canal.’

  Laura fell into Ella’s arms the moment she opened the front door. Ella hardly even had time to put down the cat carrier.

  ‘Oh, God, it’s all been so horrible,’ Laura blurted. ‘I wanted to yell at Simon, call him a selfish bastard, demand how he could do this to us, but I couldn’t, I had to try and make it civilized for Sam and Bella. And then Bella does it instead. Calls him everything she can think of, while poor Sam runs out of the room. It’s almost worse for Sam because he’s close to his dad, he needs to respect him, and now he finds he can’t. He has to face the fact that he isn’t as important as this stupid Suki. You can see how awful that must be.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I do.’

  ‘And then she rings him. Of course he’s got the phone on vibrate so it doesn’t actually ring, but Bella grabs it and works out that she’s only outside in the car, come to fetch him. So Bella goes out there and has a go at her.’

  ‘Good for Bella.’ Ella had always admired Laura’s spirited daughter. Despite her outrageous appearance Bella had always struck her as far more sensible and down-to-earth than either of her own daughters.

  Laura smiled sadly. ‘Yes, I think it probably helped her deal with it all. I would have loved to do it myself. And then the car alarm goes off and all our neighbours are watching! And Bella spat at her!’

  Ella couldn’t suppress a giggle. ‘Sorry. C’m here.’ She opened her arms to her friend and hugged her.

  Laura couldn’t help laughing through her tears. ‘Yes, it was quite funny, I suppose. If it wasn’t so bloody sad.’

  ‘And I haven’t even told you about the cat yet.’

  ‘TomTom! Is he still in his basket? Poor old thing.’

  ‘He can stay there as far as I’m concerned. Let’s get you a drink.’

  ‘I’ll just take him up to Sam. He won’t open the door to me but he might to the cat.’

  Laura knocked softly on her son’s door. There was no reply but then she hadn’t expected one. ‘I’ve brought TomTom up. He’s outside your door.’

  She then retreated to the far end of the landing and hid. Five minutes passed and she was about to go downstairs when the door opened and Sam picked up the cat carrier and took it into his room.

  Thank God for that.

  Downstairs Ella had lit the fire and poured them both a large glass of wine.

  ‘Bella won’t come back. She’ll stay with the tattooed boyfriend.’

  ‘She’ll be all right. She’s a fighter, that one.’

  ‘Oh, God, Ella. Bloody life. It’s not what you expect, is it?’

  ‘No, indeed,’ agreed Ella, thinking of Laurence catching that train to Birmingham. ‘You can say that again.’

  CHAPTER 7

  ‘Did the doctor say what the problem was?’

  ‘No.’ Claudia struggled to keep calm. ‘That was what was so odd. He didn’t mention anything about a fall or a heart attack or anything like that. Just asked me to come in.’

  ‘Come on, then, that’s good,’ Don reassured. ‘If it were really serious, he would have mentioned it.’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  They found a parking space in the street behind the hospital. Don’s phone rang and Claudia guessed it was the estate agent. Diplomatically, he didn’t answer it.

  It took a long time to track down Dr Davies. While they were waiting Claudia asked Don to go and see her father. ‘Don’t worry him with questions about Mum. Just ask him how he is. He’ll tell you if he knows anything.’

  She could see he was about to flash back at
her that he was sensitive enough to work that out, but stopped himself, which brought it home to Claudia what a kind and thoughtful person he was. She should remember that.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t handle. I’ll go and see your dad now.’

  ‘Don . . .’

  ‘Yes?’

  She smiled at him wanly. ‘Thanks. It’s much easier with you here.’

  ‘Good.’ He smiled back. ‘Sometimes I wonder.’

  A few seconds later, Dr Davies appeared. ‘Mrs Warren? Come this way.’ He led her into a small room crowded with medical supplies. ‘I just wondered if your mother had been behaving differently at all?’

  ‘What kind of thing do you mean?’ Claudia asked, bemused.

  ‘Does she talk faster than usual? Experience restlessness or have an unusual amount of energy?’

  ‘My mother’s always been like that.’

  ‘Do you ever get the sense that your mother feels only she sees the world as it really is?’

  Claudia almost laughed out loud. The truth was, Olivia had always believed herself to be in the right and that most of her fellow human beings, Claudia and her father included, were somewhat paltry beings who lacked her understanding of the universe.

  ‘You could say that, yes.’

  ‘How old is she?’

  ‘Eighty-one. What exactly is the issue here, doctor?’

  ‘Your mother has been going round the wards persuading people to sign up for highly unsuitable activities. She talked one of our patients with a broken leg into booking a course of paragliding. His wife was really quite upset.’

  If it hadn’t been so serious, Claudia would have smiled. ‘Oh dear, I’m sure she means well. She’s got a mania for these Internet vouchers where you get things cheaply. She’s become quite evangelical. She probably thought it would cheer the poor thing up.’

  ‘Your use of language is very interesting, Mrs Warren. Mania and evangelical seem particularly apt. Has she become more evangelical lately, would you say?’

  Claudia considered this. She remembered the slight look of anxiety in her father’s eyes at the idea of being dragged to Reykjavik and other proposed jaunts. ‘Now that you mention it, I think she has gone a bit crazy over these offers. I just put it down to discovering the Internet.’

  ‘I think it may be more than that. Has she experienced other mood swings, becoming down and depressed or such?’

  ‘Not that I’ve detected.’ She wished Don were here, to see what he thought.

  ‘We think you should keep quite a close eye on her for a while. These can be signs of bi-polar disorder. Has she taken on any serious financial commitments, do you know?’

  ‘Financial commitments? At eighty-one?’

  ‘It’s very common in the manic phase. People take out loans, splurge on unnecessary items. It’s part of the hyper condition. It could calm down. Possibly it’s anxiety at your father’s fall. And if it continues, there is therapy or medication. We aren’t talking about Alzheimer’s or anything degenerative but it can lead to quite erratic behaviour. I do think you should take her home for now, and try to keep an eye on her. Keep her calm, try and get her to sleep properly.’

  ‘I see. The thing is I live in London.’

  ‘And do you have any other relatives nearby?’

  Claudia shook her head. ‘Where is my mother at the moment?’

  ‘I’ll ask someone to take you to her.’ He pressed a buzzer on his desk and a young woman’s head popped round the door.

  ‘Can you take Mrs Warren to find her mother?’

  ‘The older lady with the lovely hair?’

  That would be her mother with her new Brazilian blow-dry. Suddenly it didn’t seem so funny.

  Claudia went to look for her mother, wondering what to make of the interview with Dr Davies. Keeping an eye on her mother would be no mean feat, and her father being laid up made it even harder.

  Eventually they found her in the patient’s day room. In fact, they could hear her all down the corridor.

  ‘But you’ll love the hotel,’ Olivia boomed with all the insistence of a timeshare saleswoman about to hit her bonus, ‘it’s only ninety-nine pounds for two nights in an “area of outstanding natural beauty” just near the Devil’s Punchbowl. That’s fifty-six per cent off the usual price.’

  ‘But I don’t think Bill’s really well enough,’ pleaded a mousy-looking middle-aged woman who was clearly no match for Claudia’s mother.

  ‘How about two tickets for “a taste of Christmas with lovely Jamie Oliver”, then? You’d get to ride on the Docklands Light Railway.’

  ‘Mum,’ Claudia tried to intervene, ‘I don’t think—’

  ‘Or this great golf package?’ Olivia was brandishing the offer at them on her iPhone. Sixty balls per person for only twenty-nine pounds! You’d be saving seventy-one pounds!’

  ‘Mum . . . Mum!’ Claudia put her arm round her mother.

  Olivia turned round at last and smiled at her brightly. ‘Hello, dear. Maybe you and Don would like the golf package?’

  She and Don both loathed golf and her mother knew it. Oh God, the doctor was right, this was more than a mild eccentricity. It had become such a crazy obsession that she didn’t even notice the effect it was having on other people. In fact, other people didn’t seem to exist.

  Tenderness and concern for her mother suddenly overwhelmed Claudia. ‘Come on, Mum, Don’s waiting to take us home.’ She gently eased the iPhone out of her mother’s hand. ‘He’s just been to visit Dad.’

  ‘I’ll just get my coat.’

  Don was outside holding a cup of Costa coffee for her. ‘Your dad is fine, but he didn’t mention your mum, so I didn’t bring up the subject. What’s the news?’

  ‘We need to take her home. She’s been going round the wards signing up patients for endless unsuitable activities. Their families are really upset. Oh, God, Don, they think it’s some kind of mania, that Mum’s really quite ill.’

  ‘But she’s always had mad enthusiasms as long as I’ve known her.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s got worse lately. To be honest, I was beginning to worry about it, and I think Dad is too. They want me to keep an eye on her and try and calm her down.’

  His raised eyebrow said it all. Trying to keep Olivia calm would be like persuading Joan Collins to act her age.

  ‘Right. Will you stay down for a bit, then?’

  ‘Yes. But only till Tuesday. After that I’d have to put in for leave. I wonder how sympathetic Stephen, the head, would be?’

  ‘Do you want to keep the car? I can go back by train.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I can use theirs. Don –’ Claudia hesitated, knowing that once she said the words, there was probably no going back. ‘Why don’t you call the estate agent? See if that house is still available.’

  She saw a sudden light in his eyes, like the first gleam of dawn. ‘You really mean that?’

  ‘I’m beginning to think God’s on your side.’

  He put his arm round her. ‘God wouldn’t give your mother manic depression just to move us down to Minsley.’

  ‘I’d be letting Drooly Dooley win.’

  ‘He’ll burn out by forty. Some younger whizz kid will suggest the French exchange is replaced by video conferencing.’

  ‘I love you, Don.’

  ‘Well, that’s all right, then.’

  Sal sat in her flat with a rug over her knees trying not to freeze. She was a hothouse flower, accustomed to steamy spas, thick-pile carpets, centrally heated cabs and a mean temperature of 24°C at all times. The word economize had not hitherto been in her vocabulary. She was now learning fast that a lifetime of telling herself she would be eternally youthful, not paying into a private or a company pension plan, living up to her income if not beyond it, and renting rather than buying had not been the pattern for a contented old age. And because the reality was now looming over her rather than sad-looking old folks in ads for Age Concern, she was quite extraordinarily angry.
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  Her anger was not helped by having to write up an inter-view with a half-witted anorexic celebrity who’d risen without trace from a TV reality show, but she needed the money and was grateful for the commission.

  Deep down, Sal knew she had no one but herself to blame. And there was no more irritating position to be in than that. Besides, she had made a good living out of blaming other people and she was damned if she was going to stop now.

  She started to wonder who was responsible for the fact that she was sixty-three, single, jobless and alone. Had she sacrificed home and family for the sake of her brilliant career? She was certainly served right if she had. But Sal knew it hadn’t been like that.

  The truth was she had always done what she wanted. She had never married but she had had plenty of lovers. It was just that they usually turned out to be married to someone else. And in those days men didn’t leave their wives like stupid Simon had just left Laura. Why was that, Sal wondered? Back then society condemned them and now society couldn’t give a stuff. Leave your wife and children and have another set? Good plan! And another set again. Why not?

  That was one thing she vaguely prided herself on. She’d never broken up a marriage. She had been happy as a mistress, convinced she got the best deal, the nice restaurants, the flash hotels when she went along on business trips, the flowers, the sexy underwear. A bit shallow and meaningless? Sal hadn’t thought so. Yes, there had been lonely Christmases, but she’d always made a point of getting a freebie and writing it up. Christmas in Thailand. Christmas in the Seychelles. Even, one particularly adventurous year, Christmas up Mount Kilimanjaro. Now that had been a mistake.

  Besides, she hadn’t wanted to marry any of them. She was no tragic figure pining in the wings. She had grabbed life and enjoyed it. She had only been truly in love once. She’d been so young. Had she really known him? If they had stayed together, if he had not left her so painfully in the lurch at Oslo airport, could they have made a solid life together, been a Claudia and Don or an Ella and Laurence?