‘Off to get the papers?’ Archie said. ‘I wouldn’t bother if I were you.’
I plastered on a smile and said, ‘I’m sure you’re right but I still like to see what’s going on in the world.’
‘Did you hear all that kerfuffle yesterday?’ Archie’s mouth was turned down at the corners in a show of disapproval but his small deep-set eyes shone as he nodded in the direction of Number 12.
‘I did hear something, yes.’
‘I would ask you in for a cup of tea but my kettle’s given up the ghost and I haven’t had the opportunity to replace it.’
‘Oh. Well, why don’t we have tea here.’ I stifled a sigh and unlocked the door again. ‘Come in.’
Archie bustled past me into the hall. ‘Well, if you’re sure?’ He looked around him. ‘My goodness, the place is a mess, isn’t it?’
‘Better than it was.’
One of the builders had put back an empty carton in the fridge, fooling me into thinking I didn’t need to buy milk. I apologised to Archie, saying we’d have to drink our tea black, but he waved away my concern with an air of someone who had more pressing things on his mind than milk. ‘I must say I wasn’t expecting such goings on from the household of a hospital consultant.’
‘I didn’t know he was a doctor. What’s his name again? Maybe my ex-husband knows him?’
‘Dr Bauer. Jacob Bauer. Well he’s Mr really I suppose, being a surgeon. Anyway, you might expect that type of behaviour over at the estate.’ He lowered his voice when he spoke the world ‘estate’ as if uttering a swear word. ‘But not here. Not in the square.’
Remembering the night I tipped the contents of Gabriel’s underwear drawer out on to the street I felt unable to say anything much on the subject other than to ask if Mr Bauer made a habit of that kind of thing.
‘I can’t say that he does,’ Archie admitted with evident regret. ‘But I can’t say that he is very neighbourly either. He’s been here the best part of three years and he hasn’t turned up to a single residents’ association meeting. She came along once but he, never. As for that car he drives . . .’
‘Big,’ I said.
‘A gas-guzzler.’
‘Oh well,’ I said.
‘And I must say I was surprised to hear such language from her. She’s always been very friendly to me but I suppose working in television you get inured to that kind of thing.’
I felt the morning slipping away from me and I thought of all the things I would like to be doing, none of which included sitting on a paint-speckled stool in my half-finished kitchen gossiping about people I’d never even met. Then again, Archie Fuller was obviously lonely. I was lonely too sometimes but it was easier to remedy that condition when you were young and didn’t smell of mothballs.
‘Of course I was just a baby when the war ended,’ he said and I realised that I had missed a part of the conversation. ‘Not many people know this but the bombing of Coventry was the inspiration for a very famous piece of music by Pink Floyd.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, indeed. Which one was it now?’ He began humming something that sounded nothing like Pink Floyd. After a while he gave up. ‘Speaking of the entertainment business,’ he said instead, ‘That actress’s died. Cass Cassidy.’
I looked blank.
‘You know the one? She played Beth Howard in Our Street.’
‘I never watched it,’ I said. ‘Still, that’s sad. Poor old thing.’
‘Oh no, not old at all, no, no. Cass was your age, I’d say, or thereabouts. Which reminds me, they said on the news last night that house prices are down again.’ He studied me, his head tilted to one side.
‘Oh dear,’ I said. I knew I should offer him more tea but I was beginning to worry that the newspapers might all be gone by the time I got to the shop. Archie drained his mug then looked expectantly at the pot. ‘Lovely tea.’
‘I’m sorry about the milk.’
‘Didn’t miss it at all.’
‘Would you like another cup, Archie?’
He glanced at his watch. ‘No, no, I must let you get on.’
I was halfway out of my chair when he picked his mug up.
‘Well, if you’re sure.’ He helped himself to a teaspoon of sugar then sat back, mug in hand. ‘So where were we?’
I smiled brightly. ‘Papers.’ I realised I was sitting so far forward on my chair I might slide off so I pushed back on the seat, leaning back and crossing my legs in an attempt to look relaxed.
‘Ah yes, the papers. Nothing in them. Apart from the sad news of Cass Cassidy’s untimely passing away, of course. You can have a little read of my paper. Save you the bother of buying your own. I’ll bring it over later.’ He turned his head on its thin neck hither and thither like a telescope.
‘And they’re not cheap these days, the papers, are they. Yes, you must be feeling pretty dark about buying that house when you did. We none of us could believe you paid the asking price. I suppose you didn’t realise the relatives were desperate to sell?’
‘No, no, I didn’t know that. Still, if they were desperate I’m glad they achieved a good price.’
This caught Archie on the back foot but he recovered fast and countered with, ‘Julie, my daughter, and her husband, you haven’t met them, have you? No, I didn’t think you had. Well, Julie and Malcolm, Malcolm being her husband, you understand, sold their old property last autumn. They’re renting for now, biding their time, waiting to snap up a bargain. There’re repossession sales most weeks around where they live. She’s very clever like that, Julie. She had a good old chuckle when I told her about you.’
‘I bet she did.’
‘Oh yes.’ He laughed heartily himself.
‘Well, bully for Julie, I say. But I’m still glad I didn’t have to take advantage of someone in desperate circumstances.’
Archie frowned. ‘Not everyone can afford to have scruples like that. Not if they want a fourth bedroom and a utility, that is.’
Now I felt bad. ‘I’m sorry, that wasn’t meant as a criticism of . . . well, of anyone wanting a fourth bedroom and a utility. And you’re quite right. It’s easy to have scruples when you can afford to.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ He turned towards the window. ‘You wouldn’t believe it was April, would you? I knew yesterday was too good to last.’
I looked out at the darkening sky. ‘Oh, I don’t know; it’s quite mild. And at least it’s not raining. I don’t mind as long as it’s not raining.’
Archie gave me a reproachful look. ‘You’re always very cheerful, aren’t you? Very positive.’
‘Do you think? Perhaps I am.’ Unaccustomed as I was to accusations of excess cheerfulness I began to warm to the whole concept. ‘I think it’s a duty to anyone in this harsh and unforgiving world who is in reasonable health and not suffering from a recent loss or severe financial difficulties to try to be reasonably cheerful,’ I said. It sounded good and I wished Uncle Ian had heard me.
But Archie was not that easily discouraged, and rising to the challenge he informed me that ‘Malc’s got a dreadful cough. Had it for months.’
‘Has he seen a doctor?’
‘He has.’ He shook his head.
‘Oh dear. Bad news?’
‘No. Fellow insisted it was just a cough. But what do they know?’
‘Quite a lot, actually.’
‘Of course, you were married to one, you just said. Raking it in, these GPs.’
‘Not all of them. Anyway, Gabriel isn’t a GP.’
Archie winked. ‘Earns enough to buy you a nice house, though.’
I was about to take exception to his blithe assumption that I had had to have some man buy me my home when I remembered that in fact I had. Archie had simply picked the wrong man.
So I simply told him, ‘Actually, no. My ex-husband had nothing to do with it.’
It was obviously none of Archie Fuller’s business how I had got the money to buy the house so I don’t know why I went on but I d
id. Maybe it was those blinking bullfrog eyes eternally on the lookout for some new and juicy information. Maybe he lived on gossip, quite literally. I mean, had I ever seen him eat? No. Instead he was always around, by his window or on his doorstep or out and about on the streets, whether it were breakfast, lunch or suppertime. So I told him, ‘The house is actually a gift from my godfather.’ Archie’s cheeks puffed up and I only narrowly resisted the temptation to add, ‘My godfather from the Ukraine,’ just to make the information a bit more gossip-worthy.
‘A gift? He gave you a house? Generous, is he?’
‘Very. He’s not very well so he doesn’t spend much on himself.’
Archie sucked his teeth. ‘Cancer, is it? On the increase, you know. Of course they’re trying to tell us that it’s not an actual increase as such but more that we don’t die of the things we used to die of, but that’s just what they’d like us to think. No, it’s the toxins, the toxins and the rays.’
He sounded perfectly happy about this, quite comfortable, as if the Toxins and the Rays were personal friends of his.
‘Not that old is he then, your godfather?’ he went on.
‘In his eighties.’ I looked at my watch and this time I made it obvious that I was. ‘Oh well,’ I said.
‘Ah right.’ Archie stood up. ‘I’d better be off. Got a busy day.’
‘I’ll come out with you,’ I said.
Out on the street a gust of wind, so wild and chill it seemed to belong to autumn, swept leaves and blossoms hurtling round our feet. Archie waved his stick at the clouds. ‘I told you it was going to rain. If you were going out you’ve missed the best part of the day.’
I fled.
As I hurried down the street Jacob Bauer drove past in his anti-social car, slowing down just enough to allow me to jump up on to the narrow pavement.
Twenty-one
Sandra/Cassandra
He was playing the piano, concentrating, looking down at his hands, his dark fringe falling over his forehead. I paused in the doorway, simply taking in the sight of him. He was only playing chopsticks and it made me smile that he still managed to mess it up. I loved him. I had decided I loved him that day out on the ice when he said I was amazing. I had only seen him a few times since then and never on my own. Then I heard Portia say he was coming over on Wednesday after games – he’d wait for her in the common room – and because I had stubbed my toe quite badly on a fence post (the idea just came to me as I was running after the ball) I’d been allowed off the field. But instead of going to the San I had gone straight to the common room, hoping he’d be there already.
Standing there watching him, everything having gone according to plan, I felt like this powerful being, able to arrange the world just as I liked it.
I waited another couple of minutes and then I went up to the piano. My toe was throbbing but it didn’t feel like pain, at least not in a bad way. If there was something like good pain this was it because it had helped me get to where I wanted to be, alone with Julian Dennis.
I leant over his shoulder and put my hands on the lower keys and began playing the other part. Julian muddled up the notes and then he stopped so I stopped too.
‘You’re quite good,’ he said.
‘I’m OK.’
‘What grade are you on?’
‘Oh, I’m not doing any of that. I passed grade eight ages ago. I’m on to the certificates now.’
‘Oh right. Cool.’ His fingers wandered back to the piano keyboard. ‘I’m waiting for Portia Dennis. I’m her brother.’
‘I know who you are.’
It must have come out snappy because he looked up, surprised. ‘Right. Anyway, I was told it was OK for me to wait in here.’
‘Sure.’ I smiled at him. ‘We met skating. You thought I was quite good. At that too.’ I didn’t mind sounding cocky. Boys liked confident girls.
‘Ah right.’ He started jabbing at the keys in a tuneless manner.
‘Shall I play something?’ I asked him.
He stopped his jabbing and got up from the stool. ‘Sure.’
As I took his place I felt the warmth left behind by his body against the back of my thighs. I pressed down further on the threadbare plush seat and struck the opening notes of the Moonlight Sonata. I was bored by that piece myself but everyone always seemed to really like it. As I played I noticed he was wandering round the room, hands in his pockets, looking at the paintings. We had put up a whole load of Eliza’s cartoons on the bit of wall above the lockers. Then he wandered off and looked out of the French windows towards the playing field.
‘It’s pretty pathetic you’ve only got one,’ he said.
I stopped playing. ‘One what?’
‘Playing field. Your fees are just as high as ours.’
‘We have the theatre,’ I said. ‘And more music rooms.’
Julian shrugged. ‘I suppose.’ He seemed bored. He mustn’t be bored. My toe was hurting. ‘Music is really important to me,’ I said. ‘It runs in the family, actually. Music, I mean. My grandmother was a . . .’
‘How long do you reckon they’ll be?’
‘Oh. Not too long, I shouldn’t think.’
I was right because just a few minutes later the door burst open and the princesses exploded into the room, followed by a whole group of other girls. Suddenly everything was chatter and giggles and movement and Julian was encircled and I started banging out Rhapsody in Blue.
‘Jesus, Sandra,’ Portia shouted. ‘What has that poor piano ever done to you?’
Everyone laughed. But he, Julian, said, ‘You’re only jealous because you haven’t got past grade three.’ And then everything changed and now they were laughing at Portia. I didn’t speak or look up, I just stayed where I was, playing, thinking if he told me to jump off a roof I would. I wouldn’t even stop and ask why. I’d just do it.
‘I need a ciggie,’ Portia said, getting up from the saggy armchair. My mother would have a fit if she saw that chair. Its covers were filthy; I mean, you could only guess at some of the stains. The princesses never seemed to worry, though. Actually, they were quite unhygienic.
‘I haven’t got any left,’ Rose said, but she too had got to her feet.
‘Me neither,’ Eliza said.
‘Julian?’
Now I looked round. He shook his head. ‘Nup.’
I swung round completely. ‘I’ve got some. They’re menthols, though.’
‘That’s fine,’ Portia said. ‘Beggars can’t be choosers and all that.’
We went to the back of the tennis courts, behind the changing rooms. I pulled out the packet of cigarettes. As she took one Portia turned to the others and said, ‘Sandra’s the only person I know who has enough money to buy twenty.’ The way she said it made me feel as if I’d stuffed up.
‘I don’t always,’ I said. ‘Anyway, you buy Philip Morris, for Christ’s sake. In fact I clearly remember you buying a pack of twenty Philip Morris.’
Portia shrugged. ‘Like it’s important.’
‘You started it,’ I muttered.
Eliza smiled at me. ‘Either way, thanks for sharing.’
I smiled back at her. We smoked for a while. I kept looking at Julian. I was reading this book where the heroine did that with the hero; just kept looking straight at him, not trying to get his attention in any other way, just this thing of calmly gazing at him until he got completely intrigued by her and asked her out.
Portia had smoked her cigarette right down to the filter and now she stubbed it out on the sole of her shoe before putting it in her pocket. No one was stupid enough to leave cigarette butts lying around to be found by members of staff. She looked at Julian then she looked at Rose. She had this little smile on her face and she said, ‘Damn, I forgot, but I have to finish this essay.’
‘Right, yeah, me too,’ Eliza said. ‘I have to finish a drawing for Grandmother Eva. Are you coming, Cassandra?’
I was still looking at Julian.
‘Cassandra?’
&n
bsp; I turned round slowly. ‘No. No, you go.’
‘And off we go,’ Eliza said, and she took me by the arm and pulled me with her.
I looked behind me. Julian was saying something to Rose, who laughed.
‘What about Rose?’ I said to Eliza. ‘Isn’t Rose coming?’
Eliza gave my arm a little squeeze. ‘For someone so bright you can be a bit dense sometimes.’ She said it in a friendly way.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I see.’ That’s all I said.
About an hour later, as I lay on my bed, writing my diary, I heard Rose scream.
Miss Philips said it was no laughing matter. It didn’t stop everyone from thinking it was quite funny, though, Rose coming back to her cubicle to find her teddy hanged by her dressing-gown cord, a black plastic bag over his head.
Twenty-two
Because of the end of term play the boys were over at least once a week for rehearsals. And guess who got the part of Little Dorrit? Rose, of course. Then when Portia said she had persuaded Julian to audition for the part of Arthur I got really worried. But I ended up having the last laugh because he fluffed up his lines, twice apparently, and we both ended up working backstage; him on lighting and me on sound effects. Then I saw him in town. He was at the counter at Wimpy digging around in his pockets for enough money for the Coke he had ordered. I’d seen him through the window. Now I walked right up to him and just handed the cashier a pound. ‘I’ll take care of that,’ I said.
He had smiled up at me under his long fringe. I thought he was actually quite shy. Portia thought she knew everything about him just because she was his sister but she didn’t really. None of them did.
We had walked back towards the bus stop together. ‘Why are you always staring at me?’ he asked suddenly.
I thought I’d get all flustered and red in the face but I remained really calm. ‘Why shouldn’t I?’
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