by Jean Hill
Robbie squared his shoulders and braced himself. ‘Not long,’ he said, hoping that was the case but fearing the worst. ‘Just until Mrs Brown can find somewhere suitable to stay.’
‘Well, I needs to get on, lot to do in a short time. I ’ope she’s not going to get in my way.’ She grabbed a mop and some dusters from the hall cupboard and, sniffing loudly, made an effort to get on with her chores.
The days slipped by and Felicity made herself comfortable.
‘Have you made any plans yet Felicity?’ Robbie ventured at the end of the first week. His voice sounded dead. Hope for a swift departure of his unwanted guest was fast fading.
‘No, Robbie, I cannot find anywhere. Marianne does not want to let me have a room.’ She had not asked her and did not intend to.
Felicity turned her face towards him, her small eyes expanding with fear for the future, mirroring his own. He wondered if he was verging on madness. It was a like a nightmare from which he hoped he would be able to wake up soon and she would be gone. His spirits at times rose for a second or two then plummeted once again. He was kidding himself. She was digging in for the long haul. He found himself waking up in the middle of the night tossing and turning in his bed whilst a deep feeling of disquiet gripped his body ensuring restful sleep was impossible. His mouth felt dry most mornings when he woke up and his neck stiff with tension as he gazed around his comfortable masculine bedroom that he had chosen with such care when he first moved in. There were antique pine cupboards and a dressing table to match with cream bedcovers and curtains, plain and simple. He had had a new shower cubicle installed in one corner, now proving to be quite a boon as he was able to leave Felicity to use the bathroom, which she soon made her own and cluttered with bottles of scented bath foam and various creams and soaps which were alien to him and quite objectionable. Thick green fluffy bath towels were crammed onto his recently installed chrome heated bath rail and a luxurious towelling bathrobe, also green, hung with dogged prominence on the hook on the bathroom door.
After several weeks they settled into an uneasy routine. They had most of their meals, paid for by Robbie, in the Green Man, and if they did not play bridge would return to the cottage and sip a cherry liquor or make a cup of coffee and chat, or rather Felicity babbled on and he more often than not just listened. They discovered that their London background was similar and an uneasy truce settled upon them. Robbie’s home that had been bombed in the war was only two streets away from the house that Anne and Richard had moved into when they had first married. An odd companionship started to develop. Some afternoons when it was sunny they would sit out in Robbie’s small garden and sip a cup of fine Indian tea. There were no sandwiches but Felicity decided that she did not miss them. Her waistline was trimmer and she felt healthier. Robbie began to relax and his sleep patterns improved. Acceptance of a no-win situation settled upon him.
He woke up one morning a month after she had moved in to discover that the smell of fresh toast and coffee was filling the cottage. The small pine table in the kitchen diner had been set for two. He smelled the hard-boiled eggs, just the way he liked them; his daily newspaper was folded carefully and placed next to his plate. Until that day they had helped themselves to breakfast and tried to ignore each other in the mornings.
‘I must pull my weight.’ Felicity hesitated. ‘I’ll get the breakfast for us in future Robbie, it will be much more companionable.’ She looked at him and waited.
‘Well, yes ... well ... um, good idea,’ he stammered. He felt like a fly caught in a spider’s web but admitted to himself that it was good to be waited on for a change.
Breakfast together became the norm and conversation became easier. They discussed the latest news from the bridge club and various village activities, for example the local fete and the possible fate of Enderly Post Office which had been under threat of closure for some time.
Felicity was looking more refreshed and relaxed. She dressed carefully in neat navy or black trousers and fine pastel-coloured jumpers most days. The strain of moving from Primrose House had, it seemed, almost disappeared. They did not mention Janet or her daughter. It was as though the whole affair had been brushed under a carpet and although Robbie continued to make plans to get rid of Felicity as the days passed his ideas became nebulous.
Robbie had installed a fairly large fish pond in one corner of the garden shortly after he moved in to his cottage. He had planted a lilac tree a short distance from the pond and the bright purple blooms in the springtime reminded him of his early childhood in London. Several cherished goldfish shimmered in the pool and, unlike his one pet when he was a child, enjoyed space and numerous pond plants to shelter under. The fish grew large, multiplied, were well fed and admired by visitors. A metal heron was placed on guard at one side of the pond in an effort to deter predators and wire netting fixed with care over the top. Robbie sometimes closed his eyes and attempted to visualise the small backyard, the Anderson shelter and the minute fish pond with his one small pet fish swimming manically round and round. One day in an unguarded moment he told Felicity about the London fish pond. He expected that she would scoff but to his surprise her face expressed genuine interest and she smiled in a way that was almost sympathetic.
‘I like fish,’ she said. ‘I always wanted some when I was a child, but I was not allowed to keep any. My mother hated them. I enjoy watching these, it is quite soothing.’
A few weeks after moving in to Robbie’s cottage she bought some good quality Indian tea and several packets of Robbie’s favourite biscuits, using some of her savings, and offered to pay for some of their bar meals. Robbie felt wary about her motives.
Primrose House was put up for sale. Felicity was not so disturbed about the prospect of strangers living there as Robbie had expected.
‘Good,’ she had said. ‘I will soon get my £10,000. Things are moving. I will be able to pay my way then.’
Pay her way, Robbie thought. That can only mean one thing, she means to stay here for some time. His mind once again became embroiled in turmoil. He must think of a way to solve the problem and soon. As a confirmed bachelor he had grown to value his own company. There was no place for any female who wished to organize and meddle in his life. At least that was what he told himself but he was in fact beginning to have doubts. He was developing a taste for being waited upon at breakfast and teatime.
Felicity continued to be impressed when she looked at Robbie’s academic books that were crammed into the bookshelves, hundreds of them pushed close together. She lifted one or two down when Robbie had gone out one day to visit old Pat who had not been well, and perused them with genuine interest. Some he had written; Professor Robert Barker was printed clearly on the covers. She felt in awe. She had obtained very few paper qualifications except those for typing and cookery. Her restless and turbulent nature as a child had not allowed her to follow any academic course of study. She had once thought that in some ways she was quite clever but self-doubts and sobering truths had lately crept into her mind. Ronald’s attempt to kill her had been a shattering experience. She had been an awful person, she now understood. She had knifed that boyfriend in Canada, though she consoled herself that act had been one of self-defence, drifted from one job to another and eventually let Matthew Mace die. Yes, she could have helped him, and a glimmer of conscience and remorse pierced her once tough hide. She told herself there was no way she could have saved him, after all she could not swim. But the fact remained that she could have gone to seek help. She vowed to mend her ways and try to make up for some of the evil she had strewn around in the past. Robbie, dear Robbie, would be the first beneficiary. What a kind man he was and he deserved some pampering. He had worked as a humble handyman in order to look after Aunt Janet, even if, as she strongly believed, his motives had been misplaced, and now he himself needed care. She would look after him. It would be a pleasure and her mission in life. A new set of dreams took over.
Chapter 27
&nbs
p; Settling In
The weeks continued to slip by and turned into months. Felicity made excuses when the subject of finding accommodation of her own was broached. Robbie did not bring the subject up so often but continued to be concerned about her obvious reluctance to leave his cottage. She was procrastinating and he was weak and lazy, he told himself. Yes, he was far too weak. That interfering vicar had a lot to answer for.
‘Marianne would have me, she has offered,’ Felicity lied, ‘but her spare room is so small, there is not enough room for all my belongings.’
She persuaded Robbie to allow her to cook their evening meal at least twice a week.
‘It’s much cheaper than those meals in the pub,’ she said. ‘There is nothing like home-made food, Robbie. The fried food in the pub is too greasy. I have a lovely Italian lasagne recipe, really authentic, which I made for Roberto in Canada,’ and he had to admit that she was right, she was a good cook. Felicity was aware that he still liked to meet Old Pat and a few other acquaintances in the pub and chat over a pint of his favourite cider, but convinced herself that he would soon prefer her company. They were after all only a group of scruffy old yokels who had little in common with the academic Robbie. She was reading a few of his books and expanding her knowledge. She told herself that she would soon develop into a suitable companion for the clever man.
Enderly Bridge Club continued to flourish and Patsy and John Elk were the epitome of the happy couple.
‘It is nice to see such a well-matched pair,’ Felicity said to Robbie. ‘They are perfect together and suit each other so well. It’s good to have such pleasant companionship, I miss the closeness I enjoyed with Roberto and our many friends in Canada.’ She did not in any way miss Roberto or any friends in Canada but hoped to press Robbie into admitting that he enjoyed her company and needed her. Her wheedling was still falling upon barren ground but she was determined to win and would not stop until she got her own way. She was not aware of the tension and conflicting emotions that plagued him.
He would miss me if I left now, she told herself.
An opportunity presented itself a few months after John and Patsy were married. John Elk called at Robbie’s cottage one evening. He looked very sheepish and nervous. He looked down at his hands and large clumsy feet and stuttered.
‘Patsy is going to have a baby ... er ... we thought it was too late, we’re no longer young, but it’s just been confirmed.’
‘Congratulations,’ Robbie said, beaming. ‘I am really happy for you both.’
‘It does mean,’ John continued, one side of his face twitching nervously, ‘that she wants to give up the post of secretary of the Enderly club, as soon as possible, after all she did say that she would only do it for one year. She has not felt too well and we don’t want to take any chances. She will be an older mother, you know.’
‘Of course, I’ll ask around,’ Robbie replied, his heart sinking. Good secretaries were hard to find; the job could prove more onerous than many members realised. A person would have to be keen to take undertake the position.
‘She’d also like to play with me in Little Brinton club, if you wouldn’t mind. She would try and find you another partner ...’
Felicity had been listening. She had been pottering in the kitchen, feigning tact whilst preparing some coffee and sandwiches for the visitor. She emerged quickly.
‘I couldn’t help overhearing,’ she said. ‘Robbie could play with me. I’d love to join Little Brinton Bridge Club.’
Robbie was so alarmed that he couldn’t speak for a moment but John Elk responded with alacrity.
‘That would be marvellous,’ he said. ‘Would that be all right with you Robbie?’
Robbie blanched. He felt stiff and cold and gave them a quelling look but neither noticed. They were too busy congratulating themselves on the solution which would suit them both.
‘Oh, well ... if you are sure Felicity ...’ ‘Wonderful,’ Felicity gushed. ‘It’s so satisfying to be able to help my good friends. Robbie and I will play well together. It will be a really good partnership.’ She placed an arm with a possessive gesture around Robbie’s shoulders. He cringed as she gave him an affectionate squeeze. He bit back a rejoinder and remained silent. She didn’t notice that his bearing was stiff, almost rigid.
‘I don’t doubt it,’ he mumbled. She reached into Robbie’s bureau drawer for some convention cards. ‘Now tell me what you play,’ she continued with obvious mounting excitement.
He was caught in her net. This really was the final straw - the nail in his coffin! Resentment reared its ugly head and he found it difficult to speak.
She was right, she told herself. What a wonderful opportunity. We are both experienced players. We will grow closer and be able to put any past misunderstandings behind us. She was like an excited child.
‘I would be happy to be Secretary of Enderly Bridge Club too,’ she continued. ‘I would like to help you in any way I can, dear Robbie. You’ve been so kind to me, taking me in when my inheritance went against me and letting me make my home in your lovely little cottage.’
I am trapped he thought. He no longer had the strength to fight. The woman will never leave now unless I lift her up bodily and shove her outside onto the pavement with her bulging cases of clothes and lock the door after her, but I no longer have the willpower or strength to do that.
Following his meeting with Alistair Anderson Robbie had promised himself that he would read some books about Attention Deficit Disorder and at long last he made the effort to scan the internet for information about the latest theories and ideas about ADD. It was something about which he, together with many other people, knew little. He began to understand Felicity’s unpredictable behaviour through reading extensively on the subject but still had no clear idea how he could help her or perhaps himself. It did seem to him that she might suffer from the condition, though he realized that he was not qualified to decide that with certainty. ADD was hereditary, he read, and, although a professional opinion was desirable, he doubted whether she would agree to visit a psychiatrist and he did not want to suggest that she should. Felicity appeared to be happier than when he first met her; indeed she did not appear to be the same person. He concluded that it was probably best now to let sleeping dogs lie. He was surprised that she had been able to play bridge so well. The game needed concentration, which in many aspects Felicity had demonstrated was for her limited, but it was a competitive game and no doubt enabled her to use a little of her excess energy to her advantage. Some understanding on his part was, however, a start. It could make living with her more tolerable. He regretted not reading more about ADD before though was intelligent enough to realise that a little knowledge, especially of amateur psychology, was often a dangerous thing and his interpretation of her condition required caution.
Felicity rearranged some of the cottage furniture, though she was careful to make the changes without haste, and the cottage began to acquire a feminine touch which Robbie had to admit he liked. He longed for a peaceful life and, although he found it difficult to admit, he discovered that he was beginning to enjoy having her around. He thought, in the same way that Janet had, that she was quite reasonable company, perhaps better than none, although he had been happy on his own and he found it difficult to acknowledge that his dependency upon her was deepening. She not only made his breakfast and tea and cooked the odd evening meal but also cleared away the crockery, and washed up or filled his dishwasher with an expert hand. He acknowledged that they had both changed their attitude towards each other. Even Mrs Connolly had come to accept her and acknowledged that Felicity had made her cleaning job easier. Robbie feared that Felicity now had her eye on his money but that was currently willed in a way that would surprise her even more than Janet’s will.
‘She’s not a bad woman that one,’ Mrs Connolly pronounced after Felicity had been in the cottage for a few months. ‘Is she here for the long haul, Mr Barker?’
‘I’m
not sure,’ Robbie stuttered, amazed at Mrs Connolly’s acceptance of Felicity. She was more often than not choosy and difficult with regard to the people she liked.
Felicity could not understand why she felt so protective towards Robbie, the man she had tried to hunt down when she was looking for Tom Hands in what she now acknowledged was a futile effort to eliminate him from Auntie’s will. His share of the legacy was small anyway. It had been foolish. She had for the first time in her life grown fond of someone. She had depended on Roberto when she was down on her luck in Canada but it was not quite the same thing. Felicity became aware that something had happened to change her personality when her brother had tried to murder her. The result was that she had made an effort to change and although that was difficult she felt that she was making some progress. She still had no conscience about the fact that she had used Janet’s credit card with indiscriminate abandon; in her view her actions were justifiable at the time and were now entrenched in the past. She had a capacity for forgetting things that were unpleasant, burying them in her subconscious, a habit developed over many years, and she did not think about them again unless absolutely essential. She tried to convince herself that her brother had exaggerated her bad behaviour. The revelations, however, still surfaced in a few unguarded moments and were tinged with a fresh element of surprise and disbelief. She remembered what she wanted to, for example the few happy moments they had shared as very young children before their mother died. When he told her that she had been so cruel to him it had been devastating and she told herself that he was mentally unstable and was not responsible for his actions, though she knew in her heart that what he had said held elements of unpalatable truth.
Felicity partnered Robbie in Little Brinton Bridge Club and to his surprise they played together without any friction.
‘We suit each other very well, came top two weeks running,’ she said with pride after they had played together several times.