Right now, as I stood beneath the shower along the landing, not wanting to disturb my mother and Gerald by running a bath in my en suite, I only wanted to get to bed.
I didn’t even recognise the tapping on the door at first. I was in the kitchen, making camomile tea to take out to the conservatory, and thought it was a noise from the street. Then, as the sound became more persistent, I realised it was someone quietly but repeatedly rapping the knocker. I tied my dressing-gown cord and went through to the front, sighing. It wasn’t like Jinni to be so restrained. Not more dramas, surely.
It was Gabriel. Looking pale and anxious. ‘Tess, I’m sorry,’ he said, taking in my attire. ‘But I’ve got to talk to you.’
‘Oh, Gabriel.’
‘Please. It won’t take long. I’ve got to tell you something.’
‘Malcolm told me.’
‘What?’ Gabriel stared at me shocked. I watched him as the kettle boiled, sitting at my small kitchen table, his hands moving nervously, remembering the relaxed, smiley young man I’d first met at the quiz night. Now he looked anguished.
‘Oh, Gabriel,’ I said again, feeling desperate for him. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about your mum?’
‘Oh.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t talk about it.’
‘But that’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You were in a bad place and you–’
He leant towards me. ‘I never did any lasting damage. I always put it right afterwards–’
‘You keep saying that,’ I interrupted. ‘But the police wouldn’t see it that way. It was still criminal damage.’
He nodded.
‘Why did you do it to me?’
Gabriel looked at the table. Then past me to a corner of the kitchen.
‘I wanted to show Malcolm I could do a meaty story. I was hoping more things would happen after those tyres were slashed and that woman got the poisonous letter and when they didn’t …’
‘So who did do that?’ I looked at him suspiciously. ‘Are you sure that wasn’t you too?’
Gabriel shook his head again. ‘It was the husband’s girlfriend. The wife called me later when she found out – she wanted me to expose her.’ He sighed. ‘Of course, I couldn’t have done that.’
‘But you did the spray paint and eggs. And the graffiti at the station.’
‘I didn’t do all of it,’ Gabriel said quickly. ‘There’s been more added by someone else.’
‘Maybe. But you started it.’
Gabriel looked down at his mug. ‘I didn’t want you to be worried it was just you.’
‘Why did you do it to me at all? I thought we were friends …’
Gabriel still didn’t look at me.
‘And how could you send that vile note to Jinni? She’s your friend too–’
‘I didn’t!’ Gabriel said immediately. ‘I promise you, Tess. I wouldn’t do something like that.’
‘Really? What about her window? I defended you to Malcolm but I don’t really see how those boys could have done it by mistake. And they didn’t seem the type to do it deliberately–’
‘They were messing about, and a couple of them took another one’s trainer off and threw it over the hedge.’ Again, he looked at me pleadingly. ‘They panicked and ran away. I went and picked the shoe up and I was going to tell Jinni and then I suddenly thought–’
‘And you just happened to be passing?’
Now Gabriel blushed. ‘I was walking behind you,’ he said. ‘I was going to catch you up and talk to you, and then I saw Tilly come along. Well, I didn’t know it was Tilly then, obviously …’
‘Malcolm’s going to fire you.’
Gabriel nodded, eyes down. ‘He phoned and said I was the most stupid, dim-witted and deluded reporter he’d ever had the misfortune to employ and he’d go into more detail on Monday.’ Gabriel gave a feeble smile. ‘I’ll get my official sacking then.’
‘Well, you can’t really blame him,’ I said, having gone over and over our awful argument and realising that Malcolm had a point about cracking down on fake news. I took a sip of tea. ‘What will you do?’
‘I don’t know. I thought I wanted a big job in London and I wanted to impress everyone with my by-lines. But now–’ He stopped. ‘Over the last few weeks–’ he stopped again. ‘I want to stay in Northstone.’
‘You still haven’t said why you did it to me?’ There was a pause while Gabriel continued to stare at the table. ‘I was worried, it scared me.’
‘I was just trying to–’ He looked at me now, fear and embarrassment on his face. ‘Look, Tess, the thing is … I’ve been wanting to tell you … and I waited till you’d be on your own. Ben’s been so great to me but–’ His words were coming fast and jumbled now. ‘And I couldn’t come till I knew Tilly had gone. I know she’s really angry with me–’
Suddenly the penny dropped. I leant across the table and patted his hand. ‘Oh, Gabriel, it was just such a shock to her,’ I explained. ‘I know how much you like her, and she’ll be okay, honestly. Tilly flies off the handle but then she calms down again. The reason she was so upset is because she does like you too. I’m sure she’ll come round. Just give her time and then you–’
I stopped as Gabriel pulled his hands away from me and threw them up in gesture of frustration. ‘No, Tess!’ he burst out, emotionally. ‘I do like Tilly, of course. She’s a great friend, and she’s funny and pretty.’ He stared at me wide-eyed.
‘But don’t you see? The one I can’t stop thinking about … is you …’
Chapter 38
‘Respect!’ Caroline gave another long peal of laughter. ‘All these men to choose from. Goodness, darling, you’re doing better than me!’
‘Hardly,’ I said morosely. ‘David called right after Gabriel dropped his bombshell – I just let it ring.’
‘Poor darling boy. And from what I recall, he’s gorgeous. Could you really not–’
‘NO!’ I could feel my stress levels rising. ‘Not least because my daughter clearly adores him. And I’m about to be 48. Gabriel is the same age as Oliver! How could I even contemplate–?’
‘Well, quite easily, actually,’ said Caroline smoothly. ‘When I see young men of that age smiling at me I quite often think, well, yes please–’
‘And I think – I bet your mother’s proud of you,’ I interrupted sharply, my insides twisting at the thought of Gabriel’s poor mother, who, Gabriel had eventually and haltingly told me, had died suddenly from a brain tumour. ‘So no, there’s only David and he–’
‘I was including Malcolm and my dickhead brother,’ Caroline laughed again, unfazed by my bad mood. ‘Believe me, “are you happy?” is his idea of a major chat-up line. He’s beginning to realise what he let slip through his hands now Fiona is kicking off big-time. That’s what I was going to tell you.’ I could hear her glee rippling down the phone line. ‘Mind you, darling, you were always much too good for him. I was forever amazed you lasted as long as you did and managed to produce those adorable children. Are you sure you didn’t get a sperm-donor? Or ravage the gardener?’ She dissolved into more joyous giggles, clearly finding my tortured lack of love life entirely hilarious.
‘It isn’t funny!’ I could feel myself growing hot and upset. ‘Malcolm and I aren’t speaking, I feel awful about Gabriel, Rob drives me insane and I’ve made a complete fool of myself over David.’
I swallowed hard. ‘My children have all got issues, I’m behind on my work, and tomorrow I’ve got to go to Canterbury to find out exactly what’s wrong with my mother. I don’t know how we’re going to cope if she gets any worse because Gerald has angina and the strain is–’ I made a big snorting, gulping sound as I tried not to cry.
‘And it’s all very well for my sister Alice sitting over there on the other side of the Atlantic, issuing instructions, but if she sends me one more email telling me what to say to the consultant I shall scream … And now!’ I screeched, pulling the fridge door open with my free hand. ‘Bloody Ben has finished all the bloody mi
lk. Again! And I need to make Gerald a cup of tea …’ At which point I gave up all semblance of self-control, kicked the fridge door shut again and began to sob with frustration.
Caroline had stopped laughing. ‘Darling–’ I heard her say with concern, as Ben appeared in the kitchen doorway.
‘What’s happened?’ he asked, startled.
I thrust an empty carton towards him. ‘Get some fucking more!’
What indeed had happened, I wondered, as I shoved sheets in the washing machine. I was used to being a calm person, known for my serenity in the face of crisis, not a squawking, weeping harridan teetering on the edge of a breakdown because we’d run out of groceries.
‘You’re exhausted,’ said Caroline, when she rang back to see if I had been carted off in a straitjacket. ‘The excitement has been too much for you.’
‘I do need sleep,’ I said, ashamed of my earlier outburst. ‘I woke up every hour last night.’
The sofa bed wasn’t really uncomfortable but it felt different from my own bed and there’d been one noise after another – someone flushing a loo, cats or foxes fighting outside – culminating in Tilly’s back-up travel alarm going off at 5 a.m.
By the time I’d located it from the bottom of the pile of stuff she’d left behind – stuffed into a cosmetics bag with a squashed tube of toothpaste and some dental floss – the dawn chorus was in full swing and there seemed little point in trying to doze off.
Especially since my mother was up before six, chinking cutlery as she bizarrely rearranged my kitchen.
It was with relief that I’d waved her off, Gerald assuring me he wouldn’t let her out of his sight till I met them in Canterbury the next day.
‘And when are you at the office?’ enquired Caroline.
‘Thursday,’ I said, wondering if I would ever again get a blissful day at home alone.
‘Take a bag with you.’ she instructed. ‘You’re coming to stay with me.’
I didn’t want to. After the grimness of the hospital appointment and a hot day at work, with Paul in overdrive – the uber-clients were fair racing their way down the alphabet now and had acquired a site in Paddock Wood – I needed to collapse at home.
But Caroline had insisted and now we were spread out on her sumptuous sofa, in our pyjamas – mine striped cotton with a t-shirt top, hers ivory silk with trimmings – a glass of very cold champagne at my elbow, delicious-looking nibbles on the low table in front of us, I had to admit I felt more relaxed than I had for weeks.
‘You needed a change of scene,’ said Caroline firmly. ‘And a rest from everyone hanging off you.’
‘They’re not really–’ I protested, but she swept on.
‘They are. You need a break.’ She paused to take another sip from the crystal flute in her hand. ‘I tried to book you a Kayla facial massage but she’s over at the Dorchester doing Beyoncé. Oh, my God, the girl looks like an angel – a simply divine creature, cheekbones to die for – but fingers of iron. It’s two Nurofen and a large Chablis as a bare minimum.’
I winced. ‘It actually hurts?
‘Agony, darling, but my God it works. Botox, fillers and a non-surgical lift rolled into one. Look at me!’
Caroline thrust her right cheek towards me. Her skin did look remarkably smooth and firm, but then it always did. ‘She gets right inside the mouth and pushes your cheek muscles up from behind your teeth. Terrifying, but gets results. I’ll buy you one for your birthday …’
‘Thank you,’ I said doubtfully.
‘You’ve got to keep as gorgeous as you possibly can. I got you here so I can sort out your sex life.’
‘That’s the least of my worries.’
‘Oh darling, sorry. Tell me about your mother.’
‘It’s definitely not Alzheimer’s.’
‘Thank God.’
‘But it doesn’t sound too good …’
I told her as briefly as I could. I’d been up till midnight writing it all down in an email for my sister, trying to pre-empt every question Alice could possibly ask and ending THIS IS ALL I KNOW, aware this wouldn’t stop her demanding more.
‘… there’s deterioration in frontal lobes, she’s going to see someone else – a specialist in that type of dementia. Or the type they think it is. Only a post-mortem will finally tell.’ I was silent for a moment. Remembering the look on the consultant’s face as he told me that. Compassion laced with a searching look – as if he wanted to be sure I understood the gravity of what we were looking at, as he pointed out the areas of damage on the brain scan.
‘Drugs may help,’ I went on briskly. ‘The condition can cause hallucinations and her sort of waking dreams where she thinks she has to go somewhere – she’s fairly text book so far – dipping in and out and appearing almost normal one minute and out of it the next, is all part of the pattern …’
Caroline wriggled down the sofa and gave me a hug. ‘I’m really sorry, darling.’
‘Mum and Gerald seemed almost cheered by it,’ I told her. ‘Mum was relieved it “wasn’t worse”. Gerald was pinning hope on the idea of medication and the consultant saying it could be very slow.’
‘Well, perhaps it will be.’
‘Perhaps.’
We sat in silence for a moment, Caroline continuing to look at me with sympathy. I smiled at her and took another swig of champagne. ‘Let’s not talk about it,’ I said, trying to push down the knot of fear in my stomach. ‘Alice will be on the phone soon and, believe me, I’ll be discussing it for hours …’
‘But it’s someone to share the burden with.’
‘I suppose.’
‘Music!’ cried Caroline, jumping up from the sofa and bounding across her stripped floorboards to the Bose in the corner. ‘Wine, song and a few more breadsticks and then we’ll go through your potential men!’ She grinned as she returned to sit cross-legged beside me, propped against an embroidered cushion, the remote control in her hands.
‘Paolo Nutini or Sam Smith?’
‘Aren’t they both a bit young for me?’
‘Ha ha, you are hilarious, darling.’
The quip cost me another twenty minutes of explaining to Caroline why I couldn’t, under any circumstances, have a fling with Gabriel. ‘Quite aside from Tilly’s feelings, can you imagine Ben’s face? Even if I did find young men attractive, it would feel entirely immoral and wrong. He’s grieving!’
I held out my glass for Caroline to refill it. ‘I was still quite flattered. All these weeks I’ve been thinking he comes around because he misses his mum. Well, he does, of course,’ I added quickly. ‘But he said I was beautiful–’
‘You are!’
‘And Malcolm was right – in the end it was more about me than the story. He threw stuff at my house so he had an excuse to spend time with me–’
‘And you didn’t even notice the lust in his eyes.’
I frowned. ‘I miss Malcolm,’ I said sadly. He used to send me an email most days. Something short and grumpy but … funny. I’d sort of got used to them …’
‘I found him very entertaining,’ said Caroline. ‘When we were waiting for Fran at the hospital. He was good to take us, wasn’t he?’
I nodded reluctantly. ‘But although intellectually I know he was probably right to, I still can’t forgive him, emotionally, for the way he sacked Gabriel. It seems sort of – brutal,’ I swallowed. I’d made it my business to catch Emily leaving the office one lunchtime once I’d calculated Malcolm would be safely stuffing in Rosie’s and she’d confirmed Gabriel had not been back.
She didn’t know where he’d gone and Malcolm had told them nothing. Gabriel hadn’t answered her call. I’d thought about pressing Grace for details but instead I texted Gabriel myself. He didn’t reply to me either.
‘Perhaps you should give Malcolm a call?’ Caroline enquired, tipping the last few frothy drops into her glass and looking disappointedly at the empty bottle. ‘If a man makes you laugh …’
‘No,’ I shook my head. ‘I do �
�� did – like seeing him, but we’re not–’
I remembered how kind and practical he’d been when my mother went missing. How amusing he’d been about his ‘housekeeper’, his caustic humour that had drawn me to him at the quiz night …
‘He’s not my type is he? I finished lamely.
‘Which is? Not that I trust your taste after marrying my brother …
‘Rob looked all right in his day …’
‘Not my sort, darling.
‘Well, I should hope not.’
‘Shall we have another?’ Caroline sprang up again. ‘I got given a case of this stuff so we might as well drink it.’ She disappeared into her small but state-of-the-art kitchen, where I heard her opening the fridge door. ‘So are you telling me you’re still lusting after Dodgy David?’ she called.
‘No, I’m not! Well, yes, I suppose I suppose I do find him attractive but–’ I stopped as Caroline returned with another bottle and a disbelieving expression.
‘But he’s obviously still involved with that Lucia.’ I squirmed at the memory as I took the newly filled glass.
‘Perhaps they have an open relationship or she turns a blind eye.’ Caroline offered. ‘James always maintained his wife knew he had other women but she was prepared to pretend she didn’t, as long as he paid the school fees and she got her quota of shoes.’
I shuddered. ‘I’d hate to live like that.’
Caroline shrugged. ‘I’d hate to be married at all.’ She raised her glass at me. ‘If you’re that keen, you could ask him straight! David – do you want to shag me or not? And if so, what’s the story with this other bint?’
I squirmed. ‘I couldn’t!’
‘No! Quite right.’ Caroline looked serious. ‘He’s not right for you, really darling. A bit too pleased with himself. I thought that as soon as I clapped eyes on him. He was flirting me while you were getting changed – he’s that sort – it’s a reflex action. I knew then he wasn’t going to be any good long-term.’
Mum in the Middle Page 29