You had to hand it to Celia. When she sold a sucker on an idea, they stayed sold.
Once inside, we discovered the house was bigger than it looked. It would have to be. The rooms were spacious and the building made up in length what it lacked in breadth. I was relieved to see that the long wide downstairs hallway ran along the inner side, against the other half of the house. From the position of the two front doors, I assumed that the Sandgates’ hallway ran parallel, for which I was duly grateful. The kids can get noisy at times and that would cut down the nuisance factor. We’d never lived in such close proximity to other people before; I was not at all sure how it was going to work out.
‘Well ...’ Arnold set down the suitcases and looked around. ‘Well ... this is fine. Just fine ... great ...’ He looked at his watch and shook his head sadly. I could see the thought moving through his mind as clearly as if it had been flashing across his forehead in neon lights: An early night and the first train in the morning back to London and the libraries.
‘Well,’ Arnold said brightly as though the idea had just occurred to him, ‘why don’t we get to bed and we can get off to a good start bright and early in the morning?’
‘We can’t go to bed now,’ Donald said indignantly. ‘It’s still light out.’
‘That’s right,’ I agreed. ‘Furthermore, it’s only eleven o’clock in the morning back home. We may be jet-lagged, but our interior clocks are going to take a few days to adjust. We’re wide awake, even if we are exhausted. Apart from which, we want to do some shopping. Food shopping –’ I cut Arnold off in midwince. ‘We don’t know what sort of emergency provisions Rosemary may have left for us.’ If she was anything like Celia, I was prepared to mistrust any arrangements she might have made.
That's a thought. Why don’t we go and look?’ When you got on to the subject of food, you hit Arnold where he lived. He headed in the probable direction of the kitchen with nearly as much animation as if it were a reference library. The rest of us trailed after him.
It was an ordinary kitchen, and yet there was something different about it. I stood in the doorway trying to spot the difference while Arnold strode straight to the refrigerator, threw open the door and stooped to examine the contents. The twins crowded behind him.
‘There’s a lot of cream in here,’ Arnold reported over his shoulder. ‘Someone must think Americans live on coffee and cream.’
‘It isn’t cream –’ Donna had snatched up one of the small cartons and was reading the information printed on it. ‘It’s milk! Those dinky little things are what they put the milk in!’ She whooped with laughter. ‘Donald can drink more than that all by himself.’
‘The eggs are smaller, too,’ Donald said accusingly.
‘Everything is smaller here.’ I had recognized the major difference about the kitchen; the minor one was that everything appeared to be about ten years behind the times, although obviously fairly new. ‘We’ll get used to it. Meanwhile, I suggest we go into town and get something to eat there, because I sure as hell am not going to do any cooking tonight.’
‘Sure, honey, sure,’ Arnold said quickly, recognizing the dangerous note in my voice. ‘We didn’t mean to imply that you should. We were just looking to see what was around. We’ll go get a real English meal, then we’ll find a supermarket and pick up some groceries, and then –’ a major concession – ‘we’ll get a taxi back here.’
By the time we got back, I was in a worse mood. My feet were wet, my head was aching and my stomach had begun a pitched battle with the food I had just sent down to it. To make matters worse, the twins had reached the whining stage.
‘I didn’t come three thousand miles,’ I complained, while Arnold fumbled for the key, ‘to eat hamburgers and French fries in a fast food outlet that would have been closed down by any right-thinking Board of Health in the States.’
‘They were pretty funny-tasting hamburgers,’ Donald said.
‘That’s because they were half lamb,’ I said. ‘Or maybe fat pork. And those French fries were almost solid lumps of grease – and stale grease, at that.’
‘Mom, I think I’m going to be sick.’ Donna had turned an unhealthy colour and was breathing heavily through her mouth.
‘Be reasonable, Nancy –’ Arnold was getting his beleaguered look. ‘It was the only place open. You saw that for yourself. What else could we do?’
‘And that’s another thing. Who ever heard of half-day closing? Shutting up everything at one o’clock in the middle of the week? Even the taxis disappeared!’
‘All right, all right,’ Arnold said. ‘I’ll hire a car first thing in the morning.’
‘Damn right, you will!’ So far as I was concerned, the gloves were off. ‘Are they all crazy over here?’
‘Shhh!’ Arnold looked around nervously as my voice rose. It was true that several people had suddenly appeared on the street, but they appeared to be going about their own business, or rather, coming home from their place of business, and paying no attention to us whatsoever. They might at least have smiled or nodded.
‘We’re not at home, honey, we’re guests in this country. You’ve got to be more careful.’ Arnold frowned censoriously. ‘And I don’t think you should have used that language to the bus conductor –’
‘Arnold, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think!’
At least the passers-by weren’t deaf. Heads turned in our direction and turned away again swiftly.
‘Shhh, please, Nancy.’ Arnold had gone a dull crimson.
‘A-ahem —’ The throat-clearing sound came from our offside. We whirled to discover a tall elegant blonde smiling through a gap in the hedge between the two front doors and trying to look as though she had just appeared there and hadn’t heard a word of our previous conversation.
‘You must be the Harpers,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here to meet you, but I wasn’t sure when you were arriving and it’s half-day closing. I’m Lania – Lania Sandgate.’ She stepped through the gap, obviously a well-used short cut, and extended her hand.
‘Oh, sure –’ Arnold grabbed for her hand, dropping the key. ‘I’m Arnold, this is Nancy – and these are the twins: Donna and Donald.’
‘How nice to meet you.’ She turned to me as Arnold bent and groped for the key. ‘I’ve been looking forward to having you here. If there’s anything you need or want to know, you mustn’t hesitate to call on me.’
‘How kind of you.’ I matched her tooth for tooth, reserving judgement. My first impression was that she was too soignée but, after the twenty-four hours I’d just put in, even Apple Annie would have seemed like a Riviera sophisticate.
‘In fact, perhaps you’d like to come over now and have a cup of tea?’
‘Not just now,’ I said quickly. ‘I’m afraid Donna isn’t feeling very well.’
‘I’m okay, Mom.’ Donna suddenly perked up, eyes sparkling, and beamed at our new neighbour.
‘Then perhaps you’d like to come to dinner tomorrow?’ Lania Sandgate’s smile stiffened, her voice lost a shade of its cordiality.
‘We’d love to.’ I tried to retrieve the situation. ‘We’ll all be a bit less jet-lagged by tomorrow. The kids don’t know how they’re feeling right now –’
‘Ooooh!’ Donald suddenly stepped over to the side of the path and threw up all over a rose bush. '
They kept doing that to me! And it still took me by surprise. I never knew where I was with them. I wondered if I’d ever be able to cope satisfactorily with the peculiarities of twinship. It was eerie when one twin produced the symptoms of an illness and the other one produced the effects. My sole consolation was that they weren’t single-cell same-sex twins and the problem was bound to improve as they gained adulthood. I wasn’t sure that they’d grow out of it – but at least I’d know which one was going to produce the baby.
‘I mustn’t keep you any longer –’ Lania backed hastily through the gap in the hedge. ‘I’ll expect you at about seven tomorrow then.’
&
nbsp; I put the twins to bed and stayed with them until they went to sleep, still protesting that they weren’t tired. It didn’t take long.
When I went back downstairs, I found Arnold had already taken over the small study. His portable typewriter was open on the desk, as was a bottle of duty-free bourbon. At least he had provided two glasses.
‘Some day, huh, honey?’ He poured a drink and handed it to me.
‘I don’t want to face another like this in a hurry,’ I agreed, blanking out the thought that I’d have to for the return trip. That was almost three months away and we’d have a good rest before then.
I leaned back in the easy chair while Arnold roamed around the room peering at the bookshelves. From where I sat, I could see a couple of shelves of novels, which cheered me immensely. I’d been afraid they were all textbooks and technical books.
‘Hey – !’ Arnold beamed with delight. There’s a whole shelf of do-it-yourself books here. All English ones I’ve never seen before. Maybe I’ll find some new ideas.’
‘Oh, no!’ I groaned as he began pulling out books and piling them on the desk. ‘You can’t fool around with that here, you know. This isn’t our house.’
‘I know it. I just want to read them – What’s this?’ He stretched his arm behind the remaining books and retrieved a photograph in a silver frame.
‘It must be the Blake family.’ I went over to him and we stood looking down at the four smiling faces. I felt a lump in my throat. They all looked so happy and confident, so unsuspecting of the tragedy ahead of them.
‘What do you suppose it was doing back there?’
‘It must have been on the desk originally,’ I guessed. ‘After the accident, Rosemary probably couldn’t bear to look at it and she must have just put it behind the books to get it out of the way for the time being.’
‘Then she either forgot it,’ Arnold pieced the rest of the story together, ‘or decided it didn’t matter if it stayed there a while longer.’
‘It’s as good a place as any. Put it back. We wouldn’t want her to think we’d been snooping.’
‘It’s too bad.’ Arnold sighed, replacing the photograph. ‘They were a nice couple. It’s a damn shame.’ For once, I was in complete accord with Arnold. They were a nice couple and it was a damned shame. I only hoped Rosemary would find some peace and maybe a little happiness in our house in Cranberry Lane.
Three
‘Oh no you don’t!’ I caught Arnold by his pyjama shirt-tail as he tried to slide out of bed in the morning.
‘Gee, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I thought I’d leave you and the lads to catch up on some sleep and just get an early train to London and have breakfast there.’
“That’s what I thought you thought. Nice try, but it isn’t going to work. You’re not going to leave me and the kids here alone until we’ve had a chance to look around and get settled. There’s still the shopping to do — provided they decide to open any stores today — and I’m not going to lug heavy bundles all by myself.’
‘Oh, yeah, I forgot that.’ He tugged experimentally at his shirt-tail, but I held fast.
‘Just a couple of days,’ I coaxed encouragingly, ‘and we should be all sorted out.’ I hauled myself upright, ignoring a slight tearing sound, and offered a compromise. ‘You can have first go at the bathroom.’
We managed toast and two cups of coffee each before the twins came down to join us. They were hot to be fobbed off with cereal, so I had to cook some bacon and eggs I had discovered lurking at the back of the refrigerator.
On second thoughts, it smelled so good frying, I added a few more rashers and eggs for Arnold and myself.
‘Mmrr-hrrm?’ The faint apologetic throat-clearing sound spun me round to glare indignantly at the back door. Surely Lania wouldn’t have the nerve to break in on strangers at the breakfast table? But there was no one there.
‘Mrr-hrrmm?’ The sound came again, from somewhere down around my ankles, I realized belatedly. I looked down.
An orange marmalade cat with big green eyes stared up at me in uncertain pleading. One front paw was lifted delicately off the floor as though about to wave a disclaimer that he intended to be any trouble.
‘Oh, good heavens! We’ve forgotten Esmond. You poor darling, you must be starving!’
‘Prr-yah,’ he agreed. He moved a tentative step nearer and blinked hopefully. The message was clear: he didn’t mean to intrude, but he would appreciate a bit of breakfast. He was the politest cat I’d ever seen.
‘Oh, poor Esmond!’ Donna pushed back her chair and swooped at him. He retreated behind the stove.
‘He’s not much like Errol,’ Donald said.
‘He’s shy, and we’re strangers. You shouldn’t jump at him like that, Donna. You’ve got to give him time to get acquainted.’
‘Errol isn’t shy’ Donna said. ‘Errol isn’t afraid of anybody.’
‘Errol is different. He grew up with you hooligans. Esmond has obviously been more gently reared. Come on, Esmond,’ I put down a saucer of milk by the edge of the stove to encourage him.
After a long moment, a delicate pink nose appeared and, when we seemed to be paying no attention, Esmond emerged and settled down to his milk. He wrapped his tail neatly around his paws, closed his eyes, and took dainty appreciative licks.
‘Is Esmond a tom cat?’ Donald asked doubtfully.
‘Well ...’ I didn’t really want to go into that right now. ‘More or less.’
‘Less.’ Arnold snickered coarsely.
If you’ve finished your breakfast –’ I gave him a filthy look – ‘why don’t you get dressed? Let’s get our shopping done early. God knows what hour they’ll decide to roll up the sidewalks today.’
‘Sure, honey, sure.’ Arnold heaved himself to his feet and lumbered towards the door. ‘And I’ll tell you what –’ He paused and looked back at me. ‘We’ll hire a car this morning, too. Then we’ll be mobile again.’
It turned out to be market day in St Anselm. From having no shops open at all, we were suddenly on overkill. Fresh fruit and vegetables were piled high on trestle tables under striped awnings in the central Square. Around the perimeter, other stalls had been set up where they were selling household goods, old books, bits of junk and antiques all mixed together.
‘This –’ I breathed a sigh of happiness – ‘is more like it!’ We plunged into the midst of the fray. We needed everything, so it didn’t matter where we stopped.
We had collected about eight small bags before I noticed that most of the other shoppers had brought their own sturdy shopping bags, or else those baskets on wheels. I wasn’t keen on them, but I could see that they were a necessary adjunct to life over here. Fortunately, there was a stall selling bags and carts of all descriptions. I bought one, dumped everything into it, and let the twins fight over who was going to wheel it.
‘Tomatoes –’ I eyed the varieties offered and found little placards uniformly describing them as either ‘Rock Hard’ or ‘Little Balls of Sugar’. Neither attribute was what I desired in a tomato.
‘How about some more bacon, honey?’ Arnold broke in on my deliberations. And some cheese? They’ve got both at that stall over there.’
We had used most of the bacon left for us, so I allowed him to steer us over to the stall — where I found more food for thought. Bacon is bacon – or so I had always presumed. But here were neat piles of strange-looking slices of cuts I had never heard of. The piles were labelled with odd names: back, oyster, collar, green, gammon, middle ... The only one resembling bacon as I had always known it was labelled ‘streaky’ – and even that was partially unfamiliar, since it was sliced with the rind still on it and complete with gristle. A larger piece – if I’d had to put a name to it, I would have called it an unsmoked flitch of bacon – was disgustingly identified as ‘Belly of Pork’.
‘Arnold –’ I swallowed and turned to him. ‘Arnold, I think culture shock is setting in. Things are different here.’
‘They sure are, honey.’ With a beatific smile, Arnold began buying cheese like there was no tomorrow.
‘I’ll have half a pound of Blue Cheshire,’ he began, happily reading off the exotic names. ‘Also half a pound of Sage Derby ... and Red Windsor ... and Stilton ... and Ilchester ... and Red Leicester ... and Wensleydale ... and —’
‘That’s an awful lot of cheese,’ Donna pointed out in a worried tone.
‘And Double Gloucester ...’ Arnold continued unheedingly. ‘And Farmhouse Cheddar ... and –’
‘Like every large rodent,’ I told Donna, ‘your father could exist indefinitely on cheese alone. Arnold –’ I gave him a sharp poke in the ribs – ‘that’s enough!’
‘And Curd!’ Arnold finished triumphantly. ‘“Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet, eating her curds and whey.” I’ve always wondered what that was. We’ll have some tonight.’
The stall-holder was whacking off hunks of cheese with alarming rapidity, as though he wished to serve this maniac and get his money before the men in white coats arrived and dropped the butterfly net over him.
‘Oh, uhh –’ Arnold came out of his happy trance as the pile of wrapped wedges mounted on the counter before him. He glanced at me guiltily. ‘Er, did you want some bacon, honey?’
‘Not right now,’ I said sweetly. ‘I think we’ll live on cheese soufflés for the next few weeks.’
‘We can use it all,’ Arnold argued unconvincingly. ‘Maybe we can give a party.’
‘We don’t know anyone here to invite to a party,’ I reminded him. ‘Although I do agree that five pounds of cheese would be plenty for a party – if we were giving one.’
‘Is it really –’ Arnold winced – ‘five pounds?’
Three pounds, seventy, actually, Guv,’ the stallholder said briskly. ‘If that’ll be all, that is.’
‘That’s all.’ Arnold passed over a ten-pound note and waited for change, avoiding my eyes.
‘Maybe Esmond likes cheese, too.’ Donna tried to cheer me.
‘Lovely lot of English cheeses you’ve got there.’ The stall-holder handed over Arnold’s change. ‘You won’t regret it. But –’ he tempted slyly – ‘how about some of these French cheeses? This Brie, now, ripe and ready for eating. So’s the Camembert, and the Roule, and –’
Paws for Alarm Page 2