‘Oh, I see. Well, if you’d like to wait I’ll be as quick as I can.’
Suddenly filled with new energy, Sally went through to the back room and searched the cupboard for something she had seen weeks ago: a pair of baby’s shoes in white and silver ceramic, resting on a satin cushion. Working quickly and creatively she made up a delicate arrangement of tiny pink and white dianthus, frothy gypsophila and miniature trailing ivy. When the young man saw it he was delighted.
‘Oh, thank you. It’s super. Perfect. Jane will be absolutely thrilled.’
‘It’s a pleasure. I’m a twin, actually.’
He looked up with a smile. ‘Hey, you don’t say. What a coincidence.’
Watching him write the cheque Sally suddenly realised that for the first time she had openly acknowledged the fact that she had a sister. Somehow it seemed to make it official. Very carefully she shrouded the arrangement in tissue paper and found a cardboard box to put it in. When he had gone, wreathed in smiles and thanking her profusely, Mrs Greg came across to her.
‘You did very well there, Sally. It was clever of you to remember the shoes, and the little arrangement was quite exquisite — just right.’
But somehow the compliment was lost on her. Creating the arrangement seemed to have used up the last of her energy and she felt suddenly drained.
‘It’s almost closing time, why don’t you get your things and go home now?’ Mrs Greg was looking at her with concern. ‘You look all in. Try to get some rest over the Christmas break, eh?’
‘Yes, I will. Thank you, Mrs Greg.’ Sally began to move mechanically towards the staff room.
The bus was crowded and she had to stand almost all the way to her stop. Most of the other tenants of the house in Marshall Grove had gone away for the holiday and the place seemed to echo with emptiness as she climbed the stairs. When she opened the door of her room on the top floor it looked depressingly dreary and cheerless, and the cold hit her like a wall of ice. As she waited for the gas fire to warm the room and the kettle to boil she thought of the young man; saw him proudly bearing her flower arrangement to his wife in the hospital. She could imagine the kiss and the loving look they would exchange. She saw him looking down at the two small babies in their identical cots, a tender smile on his face while his wife watched, her eyes full of pride and contentment. When her baby was born there would be no one to bring her flowers. No one to kiss her and tell her how clever she was or how happy she had made him. Suddenly it was more than she could bear and she sank down on the bed overwhelmed by loneliness and longing. Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice was saying, If I can only get through this Christmas everything will be all right. If I can stand this, I can stand anything.
The kettle boiled, spluttering over on to the shelf. Sally sat up. Hiccuping childishly and blowing her nose, she went to make the tea. As she passed the mirror she caught sight of her swollen eyes and blotchy face. How shall I bear it though? she asked herself bleakly. How shall I stop myself from going mad, alone in this place for four whole days — at Christmas?
*
It was on Christmas Eve that the blow fell. Anna had decided to open the restaurant at lunchtime only on that day and when Leah arrived at ten-thirty that morning she found Anna waiting for her alone in the kitchen.
‘Asunta walk out this morning,' she said without preamble. ‘She leave a note, saying she is homesick. Joe …’ She threw up her hands, raising her eyes to the ceiling. ‘I can do nothing with him. It seems he ask Asunta to marry him. She say no.’
‘Oh dear. He’ll get over it, surely?’
Anna shook her head. ‘He don’t take no for an answer. He say he follow her. He is already packing.’
‘What will you do?’ Leah asked, but she already knew.
‘Franco and I, we talk. We make up our minds. We leave too. After Christmas we put the ristorante up for sale and we go back to our country.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Anna. You won’t change your mind?’
She shook her head. ‘We try, Leah. We make good long effort. But London, it get us all down — make us sick. Back home we don’t quarrel and fight like this.’ She sighed and looked around her. ‘We get money for this place — buy a ristorante somewhere nearer home. Cattolica, maybe. Nice holiday place — sunshine and a beach for Paulo. Plenty tourists.’
‘I shall miss you all — and the job,’ Leah said. ‘I’ve been happy here. I’ve learned a lot.’
Anna hugged her. ‘We love you, Leah cara, you are like family. You come to Italy too?’
Leah smiled and shook her head. ‘It’s generous of you to offer, Anna. But I think I might get as homesick as you are.’
‘You come for holiday then. On us — on house.’
‘When will you go? Will you stay until the place is sold?’
But Anna was shaking her head. ‘We leave after Christmas. As soon as we can pack and book a flight. We pay you instead of notice, of course.’
‘So soon?’ Leah tried to hide her dismay. As from midday she was out of a job. It had come sooner than she expected.
At three o’clock, after they had cleared up and washed the last of the dishes, Franco gave Leah an envelope. It contained the wages she was owed, plus two weeks’ money and a generous Christmas present. He opened a bottle of champagne and the four of them toasted each other’s future. They hugged each other and said tearful emotional goodbyes all round, promising faithfully to write and keep in touch. After that Leah walked home to Melbury Street with a heavy heart. Once again she was just another member of the army of unemployed.
Bill was fixing the lights for the enormous Christmas tree he had brought home with him the previous day and erected in the corner of the kitchen. He turned, screwdriver in hand, as she came in.
‘There, how about that then?’ he said, switching on the lights with a flourish. ‘Ta-raah. I declare this Christmas officially open.’
‘It’s great, Bill.’ Leah said flatly. She threw down her handbag and began to take off her coat.
‘Oh dear. What’s up?’
‘It’s happened,’ she said. ‘Just as I was afraid it would. The Andrettis are throwing in the towel. I’m out of a job as from this moment.’
Bill stood up, his face concerned. ‘You mean they didn’t even give you notice?’
‘They couldn’t,’ Leah told him. ‘They plan to leave for Italy right after Christmas.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry, kid.’ He took both her hands. ‘There’s always plan B.’
She smiled. ‘Your mobile catering idea? I don’t know, Bill. It needs a lot of careful thinking.’
‘So — we’ll carefully think.’
‘Not now. Let’s have Christmas first. Let’s not think of anything at all until after Christmas.’
‘What a good idea.’
‘I’ve bought the turkey. I got it at cost from Anna’s butcher. If we go to the supermarket now we can buy the rest of the stuff. Then I’ll come back here and make a start on the cooking.’
‘Tonight?’
‘Of course. There are mince pies to make, stuffing and brandy sauce, vegetables to prepare.’ She prodded his chest, laughing up into his eyes in the way that turned his knees to water. ‘That’s where you come in, you lazy slob. You needn’t think you’re going to sit there and watch me do all the work.’
‘No, Ma’am — certainly, Ma’am.’ He stood to attention and saluted. ‘I’ll get the car right away. Your word is my command.’ He turned in the doorway. ‘On one condition though.’
‘What’s that?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘That you let me take you out to dinner when it’s all done. Strikes me we’re both going to have bloody well deserved it if you get your way.’
‘Right, you’re on.’
Bill took her to a wine bar in the Strand that was a favourite among journalists. The lighting was dim and they sat at a corner table illuminated by a candle in a bottle. Leah didn’t think much of the food, though she didn’t say so. Bill s
eemed to be enjoying himself. He introduced her to several of his colleagues who eyed her with everything from admiration to speculation. She had the distinct impression that he was showing her off to them, but she didn’t mention this either. They finished the bottle of wine Bill had ordered with the meal and then he insisted on ordering a second. He waved away her protests that they had had enough, reminding her that it was Christmas and that they had left the car at home.
When they came up into the street again the sky was clear and frosty. The lights of the street decorations were twinkling merrily and somewhere in the distance the sound of church bells could be heard. Leah looked at her watch.
‘It’s almost midnight.’
‘So it is.’ Bill drew her into a shop doorway and kissed her lingeringly. ‘Happy Christmas, Leah, my love.’
‘Happy Christmas, Bill.’
He smiled at her with eyes that were slightly unfocused and pulled her hand through the crook of his elbow. ‘Come on, let’s see if we can find a cruising taxi.’
In the taxi Bill was amorous and as she stood on the pavement waiting while he paid the driver she felt distinctly uncomfortable, knowing what was in his mind. He was expecting her to go to bed with him and she racked her brain in vain for an excuse that wouldn’t wound his manly pride. As she followed him down the area steps she began:
‘Look, Bill, I …’ But he turned at the bottom and pulled her into his arms, his voice quivering with alcohol-enhanced emotion.
‘Leah — I don’t know what I’d have done without you this Christmas.’
‘It’s the same for me, Bill, but we mustn’t get carried away. Please remember what we said we’d be for each other.’
But he wasn’t listening. ‘You’re a lovely kid,’ he murmured, burying his face in her neck. ‘You make me feel so …’
‘No, Bill.’ She pushed him gently. ‘Look, you’ve had a bit too much to drink and …’
‘Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re going to …’
‘Excuse me.’
The hesitant voice from the top of the steps made them both turn and look up in surprise. Peering down at them was a figure muffled in a voluminous coat, a scarf tied over her fair hair.
‘I’m sorry to intrude, Leah, but Hannah Brown told me you’d very kindly invited me for Christmas. I know it’s a bit late in the day but I’ve come to see if the invitation still stands.’
Leah went up the steps, her hands outstretched. She welcomed the diversion, but she welcomed her sister even more.
‘Sally, how nice. Of course it still stands. We’ve got plenty of room and enough food to feed an army. You’re welcome, isn’t she, Bill?’
Looking acutely disappointed and slightly hangdog, he nodded, fumbling in his pocket for his latchkey.
‘Of course. Come on in. Like Leah says, it’s Liberty bloody Hall here.’
Chapter 17
‘The Ocean’ wore all its Christmas finery. The reception hall was decorated in romantic blue and silver, the centrepiece being a twelve-foot tree dripping with silver icicles and lit with blue and white lights to simulate moonlight. The dining room was bright with traditional evergreens and Christmas roses, and on the menu were some exciting new dishes as well as all the old favourites.
Marie had thrown herself into the preparations with extra energy this year. She had scoured the shops for special lighting effects and ideas on decoration; bought most of the food herself and encouraged the chef to try out new recipes. The small gifts that were to be found on each dressing table had all been chosen and wrapped by Marie herself. It had been hard work but she had enjoyed every minute of it. It had helped a little to make up for the crushing disappointment she had suffered in being forced to miss the meeting with Leah which she had looked forward to so much.
It also helped her to forget, just for a while, her increasing anxiety over the mess Ralph was getting them into over his inept running of the business. Keeping their position from David was a constant strain and she knew that her impossible situation could not go on for much longer. Very soon now she was going to have to face Ralph with the unpaid bills and threatening letters that now arrived with almost every post.
Philip Hodges had booked himself into a room on the first floor of ‘The Ocean’ for Christmas some weeks before. He had no close relatives, and since he’d moved to the Dorset practice he’d had little time for socialising or making friends outside his immediate circle.
‘There’s nothing nicer I can think of than spending the festive season with all of you at “The Ocean”,’ he said with a smile when he made the booking. ‘The atmosphere is always so friendly and warm. Hardly like a hotel at all.’
But although Marie was pleased that he would be with them and flattered by his complimentary remarks she was also apprehensive. Ralph had taken a violent dislike to Philip. He had accused her, quite without grounds, of seeing him illicitly. He objected to David leaving his previous GP in favour of Philip too, and seized every opportunity to make snide remarks about everything from his appearance to the way he spoke.
Ralph had announced his intention of arriving late on Christmas Eve and remaining till Boxing Day, when he would move on to ‘The Marina’ in Norfolk which he had now made his headquarters. He told Marie that he was to go through the books with an accountant, but when she pressed him for more details he waved her questions away irritably, telling her as always that he had everything in hand and that it was not her province.
Philip checked in on the day before Christmas Eve. It happened to be his day off and he expressed his intention of having as many days as possible with his friends. Marie had asked the receptionist on duty to let her know when he arrived and to send him up to join them for a drink.
When the girl rang to say that Philip was on his way up Marie felt a little thrill of anticipation. She replaced the receiver and turned to David with a smile.
‘Philip has arrived. He’s on his way up to have a drink with us.’
‘Good.’ David returned her smile. ‘I haven’t seen him since my last check-up. It’ll be good to talk to him without a desk between us for once.’ He looked at his daughter-in-law with a frown. ‘You’re looking tired, Marie. You work much too hard, you know. You have a good staff. You should delegate more.’
Marie, who had taken a long time over her appearance, smiled wryly. ‘Thank you, David. There’s nothing like telling a girl she looks tired for making her feel her best.’
He reached out to pat her arm. ‘You know I don’t mean to criticise, love. You still manage to look lovely. In fact, your tiredness adds to that, gives you that fragile air — like a piece of Dresden china.’
Marie laughed. ‘You’re a genius at putting the gilt back on the gingerbread. I’ll forgive you this time.’ She went to the table where she had set out glasses and Philip’s favourite malt whisky as well as mineral water for herself and gin for David. She’d also made up a shaker full of dry Martini and put out plenty of ice and lemon slices. She was opening a jar of olives when there was a tap on the door and Philip walked in.
‘Happy Christmas to both of you,’ he said with a smile. ‘They said in Reception that you wanted me to look in.’
Marie went to him with outstretched hands. ‘Happy Christmas, Philip. We’d like you to have a drink with us before you go off to unpack.’
He drew from behind his back two parcels wrapped in Christmassy paper and handed one to each of them. Marie exclaimed.
‘Philip! We didn’t expect this.’
‘I’ve had a lot of happy times here,’ he said, waving away her protests. ‘It’s nothing — just a small token of my appreciation. Besides, you’re a fine one to protest. When I dropped my things into my room just now I found this on the dressing table.’ He held out the small parcel which Marie had wrapped herself. ‘May I open it now?’
She laughed. ‘Of course.’
Philip exclaimed over the slim gold cuff links nestling in their velvet-lined box. ‘How clever of you to know I need
ed some.’
‘Not really. It was when you stayed here for the medical conference that you lost one,’ Marie reminded him. ‘The first time you came — when David was taken ill. Remember?’
‘I’m not likely to forget.’ He smiled. ‘You really do think of everything, don’t you? No wonder your guests come back time after time.’
David found a smart striped tie in his parcel, but when Marie opened hers she found an exquisite silk Hermès scarf in scarlet and black wrapped around a bottle of Arpege perfume.
‘Oh, Philip,’ she said, breathing in the fragrance. ‘This is lovely — but so extravagant. You really shouldn’t.’
‘Got it at the duty free shop at Heathrow,’ he said dismissiveiy. ‘Last time I flew. I hope it’s what you like.’
‘I love it.’ Marie had already opened the crystal bottle and was dabbing some of the perfume on her wrists. ‘I’d never buy it for myself though. Thank you, Philip.’
He accepted the drink that she handed him and looked at them both. ‘Well — here’s to a happy Christmas. I take it you’ll both join me for dinner this evening?’
David shook his head. ‘I hope you’ll excuse me, Philip. I’m having something up here on a tray. There’s a programme I rather want to see on TV.’
‘Well, of course, but …’Philip looked at Marie.‘I hope you’re not too tied up.’
She smiled. ‘I’d love to have dinner with you, Philip. I want to hear all about how the practice is doing and about your new house.’
Philip had recently bought himself a pretty little cottage in the New Forest and was in the process of having it refurbished.
When Philip had gone off to unpack and change for dinner, David looked at Marie as she collected the glasses on to a tray.
‘I hope Philip didn’t think I was rude,’ he said. ‘But I really don’t feel like socialising this evening.’
‘You’re all right, aren’t you, David?’ Marie put down her tray and went to him. ‘Not feeling poorly?’ He smiled and shook his head. ‘I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.’ He couldn’t tell her that he had used the TV programme as an excuse because he knew quite well that Philip would rather have her to himself. He could hardly help noticing that the good-looking doctor always brought a soft pink flush to her cheeks. God knew the girl deserved a little pleasure. She worked so hard and never went out anywhere. The hotel was her whole world. Although she hadn’t complained to him, David knew that Ralph kept her short of money. He worried a lot about the way he treated her. He often heard him shouting at her when he was at home on one of his rare weekend visits. And he couldn’t help but see the bruises and the tell-tale signs of tears that she tried so touchingly to conceal from him. They made him feel guilty. In a way he had engineered the marriage, thinking it would be good for them all. He felt helpless too, hating to think there was nothing he could do but stand by and witness her unhappiness. The least he could do was to see that she accepted a harmless invitation that would give her pleasure, he told himself.
The Long Way Home: A moving saga of lost family Page 30