by Cat Hogan
‘I know how much you’d give out if I did!’ Scott said, smiling at him.
He was pleased to see how well Arthur looked. He had persuaded him to come here four months ago after a nasty fall. He had seen that he was struggling on his own and had recognised how his mind had started to fail him – the absentmindedness and the bouts of aggression. His hypertension was becoming too difficult to control, and increased amounts of medication were difficult to manage. He worried about him being in that little house on his own. Eventually Arthur saw sense and agreed to come. He didn’t know that his stay was being subsidised out of Scott’s money, and that was something he would never know. Nobody knew. He had been very clear in his instructions to the management and staff when Arthur arrived.
He was a good old man, and had been a good man to Scott all his life. He had taught him so many things over the years and filled the space that his parents should have occupied time after time. In truth, he loved the old man and visited once a week if he could.
They spoke about the weather and the usual things. Arthur had always loved sports, especially the horses, and he liked to have the odd flutter. He would study the form and place a bet online. Scott had got him an iPad, and given him grinds on how to use it. It had taken quite some time for him to get his head around the idea of WiFi but, once he did, there was no stopping him. Not bad for a 76-year-old. He also had mastered the art of texting, and Scott was able to keep in contact with him. Cherry House had a great reputation, but you could never be sure.
On a good day, Arthur was quite the storyteller. Today he regaled Scott with the tale of the latest romance between the residents of 5A and 9D, hilarious stuff. The last visit hadn’t been so good, and it was distressing for Scott to see him that way. His suspicions about the onset of dementia had been confirmed. Days like this were a bonus.
It was time for Arthur’s tea, the nurse informed them. Arthur got up from his bed, put his iPad back in the locker and then hugged Scott.
‘See you next week, son.’
Scott watched him as he walked in the same direction as many of the other residents, and sighed. He always felt sad leaving him here in this institution. It was the safest place for him, and he knew he was happy but he also knew that his home was the gardens of Weybridge, a place he might never see again.
Chapter 10
‘Now you be a good boy for Daddy and don’t stay up too late,’ she said.
Danny was excited and nearly fell over Butch as they made their way out to Will. A movie night was on the cards, and the dog was going as well.
‘Have a lovely night, Jen. I’ll give you a call tomorrow evening.’ Will started the engine and they both waved from the car.
It was half past six and everyone was arriving for half seven. Jen was excited, and nervous. It had been a long time since she had entertained a group of friends, and if Sal had anything to do with the evening’s proceedings, it was going to be interesting.
The kitchen looked lovely. She and Andy had been cooking all day. He wasn’t joking when he said he could cook. He was in charge of the starter and dessert, and Jen had chosen the main course. The table was laid, the flowers were in the vase and the candles were ready for lighting.
Everything was in order. She glanced at Andy as he washed the last few dishes in the sink. He was a lovely person. They had discussed the menu last night, and had got all the supplies in first thing this morning.
‘I’m running upstairs to get ready, Andy. Have we got everything under control?’
‘Yes, we have, Chef. All we need now is the guests to arrive on time.’
‘Well, Sal will be late, she always is. But Tess and Doc will be here early.’
‘Scott will be early as well. He’s really annoying like that. Now go get ready, woman!’
Jen took her time. There was no rush, and no Danny coming up the stairs every five minutes shouting at her through the bathroom door. She put essential oils in the bath and slipped under the water. She was looking forward to taking her time applying her make-up and blow-drying her hair.
At ten past seven Andy heard the doorbell ring.
It was Sal.
‘Hi, Sal, come on in. It’s not like you to be formal and use the front door!’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘You’re early. We thought you’d be the last to arrive. Jen is upstairs getting ready – she should be down in a bit.’
‘Oh, the place looks lovely, and something smells great. I’ve been starving myself all day for this.’ She plonked herself down at the counter, and handed him a bottle of wine.
‘Would you like a glass now?’ he asked.
‘I’d actually love a coffee now, Andy – that Chablis could do with a few more minutes in the fridge.’
Jen walked through the kitchen door while applying her lipstick. She had heard Sal come in and there was no way she was leaving her on her own with Andy – goodness knows what she would say.
Sal stood up and hugged her friend. ‘You look terrific, Jen. It’s great to see you dressed up as a girl once in a while.’
The doorbell went again and next to arrive was Scott, a huge bunch of flowers in his hand, followed five minutes later by Tess and Doc. Drinks were served, and everyone relaxed into the evening.
Scott was chatting to Doc about music when Jen slipped over to Tess.
‘How are you, Tess? Have you told him yet?’
She looked drawn and stressed, but from texts back and forth during the week Jen knew they were working some stuff out.
‘Shhh, Jen, for goodness’ sake!’
‘I’ll take that as a no then? You have to tell him. He’s going to cotton on to it soon enough.’
Andy came and joined them. ‘We should get some food out to this lot before they start eating those flowers, Jen.’
‘You’re right. OK, everyone, grub’s up! Take a seat at the table and we will start serving up. Scott, would you open a couple of bottles of wine for the table – the corkscrew is there.’
Jen had decided to make an effort with Scott. He couldn’t be that bad if he was such good pals with Andy. He seemed to be happy and relaxed around everyone and was fitting in well. Maybe she was wrong about him after all.
There was a wonderful selection of wines to choose from. Everyone had brought a couple of bottles.
‘Something smells amazing, Jen. I hope you haven’t been cooking all day?’ Doc slathered butter over a slice of brown bread.
‘Well, I knew you were coming, Doc – the bar had to be raised. We all know you fancy yourself as a Jamie Oliver. I can’t take the credit on the starter though – it was all Andy, and even the brown soda bread to go with the seafood chowder is homemade. I’m impressed.’
‘I’m no Jamie Oliver, Jen – I’m better!’ Doc replied with a laugh.
The seafood chowder went down a treat. Andy had made the base the night before, and collected all the fresh fish – cod, salmon, prawns and mussels – that morning. It was beautiful, and fresh as fresh could be. Tess only toyed with her chowder, and the wine in her glass lay untouched. Jen noticed, but she seemed to be the only one to do so.
Scott turned his attention to Sal. He was really interested in her news about the Oscar Gallery.
‘It’s quite the prestigious place to be exhibited, Sal. Your work must be of an extremely high standard. Where did you study?’
‘I went to NCAD, the National College of Art and Design. I loved it there, and it was a combination of talent and pure luck to have got the exhibition in Oscar. They have taken me on for representation, which is really exciting.’
Sal was so excited and proud of the latest developments in her career, but she really had no idea how gifted she was.
‘That’s a wonderful opportunity for you. Congratulations. I have a couple of friends on the Arts Council, and in the NMAG. I would be glad to pass your portfolio on to them – on the quiet of course.’
Sal nearly fell off the chair with delight. The National Modern Art Gallery! She couldn’t thank Scott e
nough for offering to do that for her. She knew better than anyone how hard it was to get an audience with any of those high up the ladder in the art world.
As the soup bowls were cleared from the table, light began to fade outside and the candles threw shapes up onto the walls. Conversation was flowing and Doc seemed to be hanging on Tess’s every word. Jen knew he loved her and hoped that things would get back on track for the two of them.
‘Are you having a nice time, Jen?’
‘Andy, I really am. It’s been so long since I have spent the evening in adult company, I have almost forgotten how to behave. I’ll be trying to get you up to bed for nine o’clock!’
They laughed together. Andy liked her. He tried to deny it but, as the wine went down as quick as the evening light, he was beginning to see more and more things about her that appealed to him. It was a shame in one way he was leaving – she wouldn’t be the type to get into something just for a fling, and he wasn’t either. There hadn’t been anyone really since Sharon, and no one that made him laugh like Jen did.
Sal saw the looks pass between them. It was just good luck they were sitting on the end of the table together, close to the kitchen. Aunty Pat, she thought, we are on track here.
The main course of pulled pork, Asian salad and sweet potato wedges was as good as the chowder. The pork was delicious. Slow-roasted all day, Jen informed them, as she put the platter and serving spoons in the centre of the table. She loved the idea of everyone sharing from the same big plate. They could take as much or as little as they wanted, and it always looked better presented in that way.
There wasn’t a scrap left twenty minutes later, and Jen and Andy were delighted at how well the food had been received.
‘Jen, my duck, if you ever want to come work for me, I’ll fire that bitch of a cook,’ Tess said. ‘Andy, you can come too. Compliments to you both, you make a good team.’ She couldn’t resist the last remark, and she could have sworn it made both of them blush. ‘I forgot to tell you, guys – the damn band cancelled on me last minute this evening so there’s no music tonight. Doc was going to fill in, but we wanted the night together.’
‘I’m sure you two aren’t too keen about going down there on your night off,’ Sal said, ‘so I’m happy to chill out here if no one else has a burning desire to go and sit in the Gale?’
And so it was decided. Everyone was happy to relax in Jen’s kitchen. There was plenty of wine, and dessert was yet to be served. Maybe Doc might even give them a song or two later, someone suggested.
Soon Doc and Scott had the table cleared of main-course dishes and Tess was doing the rounds topping up the wineglasses. Sal was out the back smoking a cigarette, and Andy was bent over the vinyl collection trying to choose.
‘No pressure now, Andy,’ Jen said, ‘but choose wisely, the party depends on it. Maybe you should supervise, Scott? Anyone for an Irish Coffee?’
Everyone was in great form at this stage. Everyone except for Tess was merry. Jen was no exception – she was also feeling the effects of the wine, but she didn’t care.
‘So five Irish coffees after I bring out the dessert.’
‘I’ll help you, Jen.’ Sal materialised at her side. It wasn’t hard to chat privately in the open-plan kitchen at this stage – the music had gone up a decibel or two. Jen knew there was no point in suggesting they should move next door into the front room. The group was more than comfortable where they were.
‘Wohoo, the sparks are flying between you and the lodger tonight, hon,’ Sal murmured. ‘He wants to kiss you, for sure. I have been observing his body language all evening.’
‘Sal, will you stop with the matchmaking! We are housemates and friends – nothing else. He’s leaving in a few months. Even if I did fancy him it would be a pointless exercise.’
‘Stop bullshitting, Jen. You can’t hide the truth from Sally Pally Pee. Bullshitter! Bullshitter!’
‘Who’s a bullshitter?’ Andy asked as the girls roared laughing. He had come over to check on the progress of the dessert.
‘Jen is a bullshitter, Andy, and I suppose you have come over here now to supervise us plating up your dessert. Did you really make that from scratch?’
She pointed at the masterpiece, and Andy was in his element with the praise.
‘Yes, ladies, I have come to supervise. I saw the little wobbles as you two walked across the floor, and I would have to give Jen a good whipping if she dropped my chocolate torte.’
‘Oh, behave!’ Sal added, trying to do her best Austin Powers impression. It was brutal.
Doc piped up with his version and it was brilliant. This of course started a whole new round of laughing and prompts from the girls. Doc’s impressions, down to the ones of the dinner-party guests, had them all in fits laughing.
Jen was still thinking about the whipping comment as she ate her chocolate torte, daydreaming about Andy and cream. Jeepers tonight, she thought, get a hold of yourself, Jen.
Scott had taken up residence beside the record player and he was doing a stellar job. The conversation turned inevitably to music, a love they all shared.
Scott then said that he was going to choose a collection of songs that he felt perfectly represented each of the guests. This was greeted with enthusiastic applause. After some thought, he rapped loudly on the table and made his announcement.
‘OK, here goes, ladies and gents. If you think I’m going to include any of the current crap in the charts that makes my ears bleed, you are mistaken. First up is the lovely Sal – for you, it has to be “Tiny Dancer” by Elton John.’
‘Scott, I love that song. Good choice.’ Sal was delighted.
‘For you, Andy – “With a Little Help from My Friends” – the Joe Cocker version.’
Andy grinned as the others clapped.
‘Tess, for you I choose “To Ramona” – the Sinéad Lohan version – much better than Bob’s.’
Doc nearly had a conniption because he chose Sinéad over his hero, Bob, but let it go after a brief protest.
‘I shall continue now that Doc has got back in his box. For you, Doc, and how apt – “The Devil’s in the Jukebox” by Ray Lamontagne.’
That got a laugh out of everyone.
‘And finally for you, Jen. Well, it has to be a Donovan number, doesn’t it? So for you it’s “Sunshine Superman”.’
‘And for yourself, Scott?’ Jen asked.
‘It could only be “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon.’
That ensured more laughter from everyone, including Jen.
‘Now, Doc, here’s a challenge,’ Scott said. ‘How about you sing each of these songs for us?’
Everyone applauded, whistled and drummed their heels.
‘Yes, Doc!’ Sal called. ‘Time to warm up those vocal cords and see how many of them you know – or, more to the point, can sing!’
‘Ah, come on, lads – Scott is doing a right job here, and it’s my night off,’ he protested in vain.
Scott quit the record player, and left Doc with little choice.
‘Ah, he doesn’t know any of them at all!’ Andy said, laughing.
‘As a matter of fact, smart arse, I know all bar one, that Ray Lamontagne one. Never heard of it, Scott.’
‘No excuses, Doc, my lovely,’ Tess said as she gathered up the dessert plates. ‘The guitar is in the car. Why don’t you go get it?’
‘Oh, please do, Doc,’ Jen said. ‘I’d love a sing-song now.’
He got up and went out to the car.
‘Oh feck,’ Jen said, ‘with all this music talk, I completely forgot about the Irish Coffees!’ She made her way over to the kitchen.
The footed mugs were laid out and ready, cream was whipped and sugar and coffee were there too. But where was the Jameson? She rooted around in the kitchen cupboards until she remembered that it was, in fact, in the locked drinks cabinet in the front room – hard liquor needed to be locked away from curious children.
She darted into the front room and over to the ca
binet under the bay window. Noticing that one of the windows was open a bit, she reached out to pull it shut and saw that Doc was outside with his back to her. He was on the phone, telling the person on the other end not to cry and that he would see them tomorrow. It must be Hugh, she thought, poor kid!
‘You know I miss you too,’ Doc went on, ‘and if I could be there with you tonight I would be – but we need to talk. Things have changed now.’
Jen felt the hair rise on the back of her neck.
‘Yeah – Dublin tomorrow. Just book the hotel, and I’ll see you there. I’m looking forward to it. We can sort it all out then.’
Jen left the window open, grabbed the Jameson, and hurried back to her station in the kitchen.
She waited for the kettle to boil, going over and over what she had just heard. It wasn’t his son on the phone, obviously. It was his mistress.
‘Jen?’
‘What? Oh, sorry, Andy, I was miles away,’
‘What’s wrong, Jen? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
‘I’ll tell you later.’
Tess followed Doc outside. She was uneasy. It doesn’t take that long to get a guitar, she thought. What is he up to? When she got outside he was fishing around in the boot for a capo.
‘There you are, pet – I thought you had got lost.’ She was relieved he had a valid reason for the delay.
The capo found, they went back into the kitchen and he started to tune up the guitar.