‘My goodness,’ Elsie said, ‘that’s cupboard love, if ever I saw it.’
‘Whatever do you mean?’ Rose asked.
‘Well, she’s after something isn’t she? Sweets I expect.’
‘Sweeties,’ Amy said, helpfully.
‘There you are, what did I say? She knows you spoil her with sweets, that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it, young lady.’
‘I’d thank you not to put words into children’s mouths,’ Rose said, furious. ‘Amy’s never in her life had sweets from me.’
‘Sweets,’ Amy said again.
‘Hasn’t she?’ Elsie said, ‘Doesn’t sound like it I must say. Knows the word well enough.’
‘Of course she knows the word, she’s not stupid, not like some people, nor jealous.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘How’s Dolores? Anything on the way yet?’
‘Give her a chance, it’s only June, they were only married in October.’ Elsie was successfully side-tracked, but not without realizing it. ‘They aren’t properly settled yet. I wouldn’t want them to have a family, not yet, not till they have a house and they’re all set up.’
‘Like you,’ Rose said.
‘Yes, well, we had the sense to wait.’
‘You can call it sense, I’d call it something else.’
‘Oh you would, would you, and what might that be may I ask?’
‘You ended up with just the one. You left it far too late.’
‘That had nothing to do with it.’
‘Hadn’t it? I’d say it had. You were lucky the one you did have wasn’t a mongol. Better to have them when you’re young without all this waiting for washing machines and things, better to have another like Alice’s doing, like I did, before the first’s too old.’
She was always, Elsie thought, so full of herself when she was handing out advice. There was no puncturing her vanity, never had been. Shy, she had said to Stanley many times, shy? Rose didn’t know what shyness was. She could get on to topics that made you blush and you were prevented from arguing, just out of decency. She was blunt and crude, barged on regardless without taking any account of your feelings, but her feelings, that was something else again. Elsie felt a growing desire to get her own back, she didn’t care how. For a time, after Stanley’s illness, Rose had seemed a different person, kind and considerate, not so sharp, but now she was worse than ever, really puffed up with these blessed neighbours of hers, as if nobody else had neighbours, as if there was anything special about them, as if they were anybody.
‘Thank you for the tea,’ she said, putting her cup down, ‘very nice. And the cake.’
‘That was Alice’s,’ Rose said, ‘she made it for me yesterday.’
‘Oh, did she. Very nice too. I wish I had neighbours who made me cakes.’
‘You’d go a long way to find one like my Alice.’
‘Your Alice?’
‘Well, she’s like a daughter to me, like Ellen would have been.’
‘You hope.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Things don’t always turn out as we expect, do they? Look at Frank, never thought he’d leave home, did you? And he did, at eighteen, soon as he could.’ Elsie was frightened the minute she’d said it – glad but frightened. It would be no good pretending there hadn’t been implications in what she’d said – Rose was quick on the uptake. She was glaring at her now fit to terrify anyone. ‘Of course he needed to go for his job,’ she found herself saying. Rose could be violent when roused.
‘Yes, he did. You can’t farm in England, not today, not unless you’re in a farming family. That was the only reason Frank left home.’
‘Yes, of course, Rose.’
‘I’m taking Amy back now, I might get her pushchair and take her to the swings. Do you fancy coming?’
‘To the swings?’
‘That’s what I said, don’t look so shocked.’
‘What would I want with swings?’
‘It’s not what you want, it’s what Amy wants – she likes swings, children do.’
‘Oh. No, thank you. I’ve got better things to do.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’
‘What?’
‘I said I’m glad to hear it. I’ve got nothing more worth doing than helping a friend out by taking her child for a walk. We could all do with helping each other a lot more. Some of us are too wrapped up with ourselves.’
Elsie hated her. ‘Well then I won’t keep you back from your good deed,’ she said, ‘just mind it doesn’t rebound, that’s all. Mind you don’t regret all this coming and going. I only hope it all turns out all right, I only hope you’re not wearing rose-coloured speactacles, that’s all.’
‘Oh, get on with you,’ Rose said, quite good-humouredly.
‘My conscience is clear.’
Rose laughed. ‘That’s nice for you,’ she said.
Afterwards, she tried to tell Stanley what Elsie had said, how silly she’d been, but to her surprise Stanley’s reaction wasn’t quite what she had expected.
‘She might have a point,’ he said, warming his feet in front of the fire the way she had told him not to.
‘What point?’ Rose was so amazed she let him go on doing it.
‘Well, you think the world of Alice.’
‘Certainly I do – and with cause. You might not be sitting there tonight doing that dangerous thing if it hadn’t been for her.’
‘Yes, well.’
‘You’re not getting out of it that easy – yes, well. I’ll yes well – what are you getting at? What’s that sister of yours been saying? Out with it, I’m waiting.’
‘She hasn’t been saying anything. She said it to you. I’m only saying she might have a point.’
‘What point?’
‘Well, the girl’s only human after all.’
‘Whatever are you getting at now –’
‘She’s only human,’ Stanley repeated, ‘that’s the point. You expect too much of her maybe with liking her so much. She isn’t perfect, that’s the point.’
‘I never thought,’ Rose announced, at last taking a swipe at his slippered feet, ‘I never thought I’d live to see the day, I didn’t. You’re as wicked as that sister of yours, both of you are wicked, you can’t see good when it stares you in the face without wanting to spoil it. I’m disgusted, that’s what.’
‘I didn’t mean that. I like Alice as much as you do. It’s only –’
‘You’re jealous.’
‘Now don’t be silly –’
‘It’s not silly. I can see it plain as plain. You like to be cock of the walk, that’s what it is. It was the same with Frank, you couldn’t bear me to do anything for him, you wanted me all to yourself and now it’s Alice you’ve taken against in just the same way.’
‘Nonsense.’
‘Nonsense is it? We’ll see. And we’re letting those rooms to that nurse. That’s final.’
Stanley wondered, not for the first time, if Rose’s brain was differently constructed from other people’s. He had been all for letting the rooms to the nurse, she must know he had. It was Rose who had hummed and hawed and first said yes and then said no. He’d just let her twitter on without interrupting, agreeing with what her final verdict of each day was. Yet now she was pretending that he had somehow been against it. Perhaps Alice understood her better than he did. He hoped so. Since his illness he didn’t seem to be able to cope the way he had once done, which was strange because he knew he hadn’t so much to cope with.
‘I’ll tell her tomorrow,’ Rose said, ‘I’ll get her to bring that girl round and we’ll fix it up.’
‘You do that,’ Stanley said.
‘Yes, I shall. I shall. It’s a scandal having those rooms empty. One thing, it’ll leave somebody in the house when we’re away. I didn’t ever like the idea of leaving it empty all that time.’ Stanley kept very quiet. ‘Have you fixed it up yet?’ He knew she would say that, he had been waiting.
‘No,’ he said, straight out.
‘Why not?’
‘It’s complicated. They’re always so busy down there. But there’s plenty of time, not as if we’re emigrating.’
‘That’s what you always say. Just don’t you go letting me down that’s all. I only hope Alice’s has her baby before we go. I shouldn’t like to be away then. There’ll be a lot to do.’
‘I expect she’d manage.’
‘Of course she’d manage.’ She was angry with him for pointing this out. ‘We all manage if we have to, but there’s no need just to manage.’ Stanley was silent. ‘She isn’t looking well, you know.’
‘Who?’
‘Alice. She looks peaky. She needs a holiday.’
‘Maybe she’ll have one. Maybe she’ll go and stay with her mother.’
‘Her mother’s dead,’ Rose said, scathing.
‘I didn’t know,’ said Stanley, huffed.
‘You didn’t know because you don’t listen, you don’t care what people are telling you. You’ve been told umpteen times her parents are both dead, killed in a car crash, dreadful. She’s only got that sister of hers, Laura.’
‘Oh. Well, maybe she’ll go and stay with her.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Rose vehemently. ‘I’m going to tell her she needs a holiday. I am.’
But there was no need. Alice told her the very next day that she and Tony were going off for a week to Rye in Sussex while Laura looked after Amy – told her with apprehension in case she disapproved but Rose was emphatically encouraging. It was just what she needed. Amy would be quite happy with her cousins, it would be good practice for when the baby was born, the weather was lovely, Rye was lovely, everything was lovely. Rose glowed with approval and became quite excited herself. Of course she would come in and water the plants, of course she would let the window cleaner in, of course she would open the windows now and again, of course she would check they’d put things off, of course, of course, of course . . .
When she left the house, with Alice already packing, Rose remembered she hadn’t mentioned the nurse. But it didn’t matter, there was plenty of time. Her own relief made her feel guilty, but she tried to ignore it. She must concentrate now on the job in hand. As soon as she got in she laboriously wrote down a list of everything she had to do for Alice. Stanley asked her what she was doing but she shushed him at once, and said it was private. Well, she knew it wasn’t private but Stanley was such a gossip and Alice didn’t want the whole road knowing about her business. He would tell everyone, not honouring the implicit trust in the job. These days it took him half an hour getting along the street with all the people he talked to. That Charlotte was his boon companion – hours and hours he spent at her gate droning on about his blessed operation. It was a wonder she could put up with it. Stanley, of course, could never see when someone was being patronizing, just humouring you, just letting you fill in time. It was the greatest of his many failings.
So Stanley was excluded. Rose went next door on her own every day and did all the necessary things. She loved it. The very first morning when she went in the house was full of sunshine and the colours everywhere dazzled her. She stood with her back against the hall door and a great feeling of peace and sweetness seemed to flood from every corner towards her. Slowly, she toured the rooms and the sun played like music everywhere she went, rippling in giant scales from one end to another. She was careful to touch nothing but she noticed everything and sometimes longed to pick up this or that. Alice was clean but not tidy. She herself could never have gone away leaving clothes festooned everywhere and drawers and cupboards open. But she didn’t condemn Alice for that – it was right, she had her priorities right. Now Elsie wouldn’t have seen that, she would have been horrified, she had no imagination at all and Dolores was the same. You wouldn’t catch either of them having less than an immaculate house and not a scrap of enterprise between them.
The day the window cleaner came Rose went from room to room with him, never leaving him alone. It annoyed him but she didn’t care about that. She wanted to do her job properly and all he had to do was do his. He was a cheeky young fellow, told her Alice – yes he called her that – Alice usually gave him a cup of coffee, but she told him smartly that what Mrs Oram did in her own house was one thing but what she did in somebody else’s was another. He also said Alice just left him to it and he pulled the door behind him when he’d finished. She told him she’d wait and see him out, though she didn’t disbelieve him. Alice was very casual. She left the key in the door all the time, that’s if it wasn’t wide open anyway, and her shopping lay in the car with the boot open to the world for everyone to see till she had time to bring it in. All very well, but she was putting temptation in people’s way and that wasn’t right.
The best morning was Thursday when Alice had said Mother-care would be delivering a parcel of things for Amy and for the new baby and would she – if she had time – unpack it and check off the items and – if she had time – put them in the airing cupboard. The parcel duly came and Rose unpacked it in the bedroom where she could spread things out on the bed and keep them clean. She’d put her spectacles on and brought a pencil and she ticked all the items off – all correct – and unwrapped them. The prices fascinated her and she wished she had somebody with her to exclaim to. Putting the goods in the airing cupboard was fun too – such beautiful sheets there, such beautiful towels. She had to move some of them to make room and did so reverently, tidying them without realizing as she did.
On her way out she heard a voice shouting, ‘Hello, Mrs Pendlebury,’ and peering along the road saw Charlotte unloading her car.
‘Oh, hello,’ she replied, but distant, cold. She didn’t like calling attention to the fact that she was coming out of Alice’s house. Charlotte had put her bag down and was coming along the pavement. Rose trotted quickly to the gate, preferring to meet her there.
‘I hear you’ve got a caretaking job,’ said Charlotte, with that smile.
‘Oh, yes,’ Rose said, vague, looking over her shoulder.
‘I was wondering whether I could leave the key of our house with you too – we’re going away tomorrow and it would be so nice to know somebody was popping in.’
‘Well I don’t know really,’ Rose said, seething at the impudence.
‘You have enough to do, have you?’
At least she could take a hint.
‘Well, I am a bit busy.’
‘Another time then. Will you come and see Jemimah’s new kittens? She’s had six and they’re adorable.’
‘Oh, yes, yes, I will,’ still very vague.
‘When can I ask you – let me see – how about this afternoon for tea – just a cup of tea, I’m not a good baker like Alice.’
‘I don’t know about this afternoon.’ Immediately Rose heard herself she was sorry. There was no need for her to be like that. Hurriedly she said, ‘Well just for five minutes.’
‘Lovely. About four o’clock?’
‘Yes, that’ll be all right.’
‘Bring Mr Pendlebury with you. He hasn’t seen my garden.’
‘Yes, all right.’
They went dressed in their best clothes, Stanley reflecting that it was a sign of how far Rose had progressed that they no longer wore them to go to Alice’s. He’d been allowed for some time now to go next door with his ordinary trousers on, as long as he put on a tie and jacket with his shirt. But it was the old Rose that afternoon, fussing away, getting herself into a state over nothing, suspicious about the reasons she’d been invited. Stanley was glad when it was all over. Charlotte was very kind but Rose didn’t seem to take to her in the way she did to Alice. The difference, as he saw it, was that Alice was soft, full of anxieties herself, full of worries and self-deprecation which Rose knew about and could respond to. Charlotte was not. Whatever she was really like, she appeared confident and clipped. Her conversation sounded artificial, rehearsed, and there was nothing more likely to make Rose uneasy. She strained
all the time to keep her end up with Charlotte and the strain showed.
‘I’m worn out,’ she said as soon as they were home. ‘That’s done me for today.’
‘Very nice,’ Stanley said, abstracted.
‘Oh, she means well, but she’s not my sort. Oil and water don’t mix, no good trying.’
Stanley sneaked a look at her.
‘What’s up?’
‘I’ve got a headache.’
‘Have a lie down.’
‘Yes, I will’ – but she didn’t move. She felt so depressed she didn’t dare go and lie down. She must distract herself before the ‘What’s-the-use?’ feeling swamped her. Why? Why on this lovely sunny day of all days? She roused herself from the chair and went, a little unsteadily, into the garden. Always better outside. She felt lonely and sad but not so persecuted. There was a newspaper lying on the garden table. Stanley left them any old place. She picked it up and sat down where he had been sitting and tried to read it. Her eye was drawn to a heading:
‘70-Year-Old Woman Dead 6 Weeks.’
That was her age next birthday. She read the line several times, saying the words to herself, before she went any further. The report said:
Mrs Janet Barber was found dead today in her third-floor fiat. Aged 70, Mrs Barber had been ill for many years with chronic arthritis but had refused offers of a ground-floor pensioner’s flat. The medical report stated she died of a heart attack at least six weeks ago. Neighbours in the block said there was nothing to make them suspicious. Mrs Barber spoke to nobody and rarely went out. She had no milk delivered and few letters. Her only living relative was a sister-in-law, herself an invalid, who visited from time to time. It was this relative, Mrs Anne Barber, who found her sister-in-law.
The Seduction of Mrs Pendlebury Page 21