by Ivan B
“I think she enjoyed that.”
Mary laughed.
“Enjoy hardly covers it, total delight may be better. What have you got planned next?”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Wondered about the waxworks next door, but she didn’t seem keen.”
Mary grimaced, waxworks were not her cup of tea either.
“I wouldn’t mind going to the Tate, they’ve got a special showing of paintings by Lowry.”
A look of horror crossed his face and Mary almost burst out laughing, but instead made an offer.
“Look, why don’t I take Josie to the Tate and you go off and do whatever men do.”
His face brightened up.
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Of course not.”
Josie suddenly appeared with a star-map for the Northern Hemisphere; Robert looked at the price and winced. Josie smiled.
“If I had this poster to cover up my old wallpaper you wouldn’t have to decorate my bedroom.”
Robert rolled his eyes and muttered.
“Wherever does she get it from” and took the poster to the cash desk. Josie grinned at Mary and whispered.
“Don’t remind him he’s already bought the wallpaper,” causing Mary to almost have a choking attack.
One lemonade and cream-puff later Josie and Mary walked into the exhibition of Lowry’s paintings. Mary and Josie strolled around the first gallery until Mary sat down and patted the bench beside her, Josie sat down. Mary said quietly.
“Now we’ve had a quick look, we need to seriously look at one or two; let’s try this one, remember every picture tells a story.”
Josie puckered up her nose.
“But everyone in this painting looks so sad.”
Mary pointed to two little match-stick figures.
“Those boys seem happy enough.”
Josie scoffed.
“That’s ‘cause they don’t know what’s going on.”
Mary smiled.
“So what is going on? Come on, you look at the painting and tell me the story.”
Josie stared at the painting.
“Well there’s lots of smoke and dirt and …”
They arrived back at the flat to be greeted by the smell of cooking, Robert appeared from the kitchen and Josie ran up to him and unrolled a poster.
“Mary bought me a Lowry poster; see.”
Robert gave her a hug and looked at the poster.
“Lancashire Fair; do you like it?”
She nodded.
“We’re going back later this week.”
She skipped off into her bedroom and Robert gave Mary a quizzical look. She grinned.
“Every picture tells a story, she liked that story.”
He pointed to the piece of modern art on the TV screen.
“So what does that say?”
Mary’s face cracked into a dazzling smile.
“It says ‘I belong to a high-tech flat and if you don’t understand me you’re not cool.’”
Robert burst into laughter and made for the kitchen.
“Dinner in five minutes and Jake’s brought up a million shopping bags, they’re in your room.”
He suddenly stopped and returned to the lounge, he said quietly.
“I bumped into Stephen in a computer shop, his practice owns this flat, he’s invited me out for a drink tonight, but…”
Mary repeated her dazzling smile.
“That’s fine by me, there’s plenty of DVDs to work through.”
He hesitated.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.
“You go and spend some time with your friend.”
He relaxed and she asked.
“Known him for long?” more out of politeness than curiosity.
He nodded meaningfully.
“We were at university together, originally we were going into partnership together, until…”
Josie came out of her bedroom and finished the sentence for him, Mary began to realise for the first time just what Robert had sacrificed for his daughter.
The dinner of pizza, chips and peas was not a culinary experience to be repeated; even the normally ravenous Josie gave up half way through. Mary picked up the frozen pizza box and surveyed the cooking instructions, she said nothing and put the box in the refuse bin. Josie looked at her father.
“Can I have a shower?”
He nodded and she tripped out. Robert looked at Mary.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Well what did I do wrong with the pizza?”
She shrugged.
“Nothing as far as I could see. Defrost for ten minutes in the microwave and then twenty minutes in the oven at full bore.”
Robert slapped his forehead.
“Defrost? I never saw anything about defrosting!”
They both laughed and he stood up.
“Coffee?”
“Tea, if you don’t mind.”
He put the kettle on and turned round.
“She obviously enjoyed today.”
Mary smiled.
“She’s bright, full of life and wonderfully secure with you, why shouldn’t she enjoy life?”
Robert looked startled.
“You really think that? That she’s secure.”
Mary grinned.
“If she says ‘daddy says’ to me one more time I might just scream.”
He sighed.
“That’s nice to know, not that you’ll scream, but that she’s secure.”
Mary was curious.
“What makes you uncertain?”
He shrugged.
“She’s always on about Aruna’s mother and the mothers of other girls at school.”
Mary watched his face, angst was not far away.
“What about their father’s, I bet a good few have single mums?”
He looked out of the window.
“But she’s a girl and I’m never sure if it’s the same thing.”
Mary said quietly.
“Believe me she’s got a stable home and she’s quite quite happy, you’re doing a really good job with her.”
Robert looked at her.
“Thanks, it’s nice to hear it from someone else.”
Josie reappeared in the doorway clothed in a huge bath-towel.
“Shower won’t work, it keeps beeping at me.”
Robert grinned and pretended to swipe her across the head.
“That’s because you haven’t got the shower cubicle door closed my girl, but this shower won’t let you get away with it.”
She laughed and scampered away, Mary wondered for the umpteenth time what she was doing with them. Josie was clearly a happy girl and Robert was clearly coping excellently as a single parent, so just why was Robert so keen to have her as Josie’s Godmother? It didn’t quite make sense.
They had coffee and Robert opted for a shower a couple of minutes before the door-bell rang. Mary opened the door and gave her best smile, who said the arch-angel Gabriel was taken. Her angel smiled and proffered his hand.
“Hi, I’m Stephen, you must be Mary.”
Mary shook his hand and he made his way into the flat, declined a drink and sat in an armchair. Mary re-settled herself onto the end of the settee and pressed the button to bring up the leg-support to exactly where she wanted it. Mary waved her right hand.
“This is all your idea?”
He nodded.
“Can’t always get in exactly what we want, but we do the best we can.”
Mary nodded and smiled like a star-struck school-girl. Stephen was tall, dark-haired, handsome faced and had wonderful pale blue eyes, her pulsed raced.
“Obviously your targeting the fabulously over-paid footballer and suchlike.”
He seemed surprised.
“How do you know?”
She laughed.
“I’ve seen the visitor’s book – you could probably sell that for a fortune at auction.”
He leant back and crossed his long Armani clad legs.
“So what do you think?”
She half-smiled.
“Not bad, but I wouldn’t want to live here, it’s too cold and impersonal.”
He chuckled from deep in his sun-tanned throat.
“Neither would I. So any improvements we could make?”
She thought.
“Personally I would like an electric carving knife and a lightweight stool in the kitchen.” She smiled. “I have what is termed as limited mobility and standing still while cooking is not easy.”
He nodded having noticed her gait as she had walked to the settee.
“Polio?”
“Parachuting.”
He pulled out a little notebook and scribbled.
“Anything else?”
She brushed some hair out of her eyes.
“I don’t like the sharp corners on the metal kitchen top, not good when it’s head height for children. And talking of children there’s no toys around.”
He looked dubious, she tried for a winning smile.
“Even famous over-rich footballers have children and they dote on them obscenely if I recall. So some good quality toys and a family of teddy-bears would go down well. You could also put some decent children’s books in the bookcase and throw out the shelf of old classics, they may look impressive, but nobody reads them, least not in your market sector.”
He laughed.
“Wouldn’t know what to buy.”
She gave him a withering look.
“Try asking your staff, surely some of them have children, they can tell you what toys are in vogue. And I could easily give you a list of decent children’s books, it’s my specialism.”
He nodded, writing furiously in his notebook. He gave her a smile that melted her heart.
“So what’s the best thing about the flat?”
She smiled broadly.
“This settee, I’ve never found one so comfortable and the ability to move the leg support in both directions without moving the back is marvellous. I could die for this.”
He chuckled.
“What about the armchairs?”
She shrugged.
“Control is on the left hand side so I haven’t used them.”
He got up, walked across the room and lifted up the seat cushion of one of the armchairs.
“The control is moveable,” he pulled the control out on it’s curly cord. “You can put it either side to reach it down beside the cushion or have it hanging out.”
He gave a big smile.
“And this chair has a boost in the seat to aid the elderly to rise, so.” He pressed a toggle switch and the base of the rose and tilted forward.
“Have to watch it though. Wouldn’t like to shoot the old dears through the wall.”
She laughed and then pointed to the large flat TV screen.
“And this plasma TV screen has a dreadful viewing angle, it’s fine from the settee, but pale from the armchairs.”
He went back and sat down.
“It’s LED technology, not plasma and it’s being changed next week.”
He paused.
“And the worst aspect, the thing you would like improved most?”
She answered without hesitation.
“The bathroom, it's smoothed tiled with an enticing bath, but I know if I got in it I would never get out.”
He looked surprised.
“Why ever not, it‘s a huge bath.”
She made a face.
“You try getting in and out of a bath without bending your knees beyond 90°. You don't need those ghastly white handles, a few firmly fixed sunken soap dishes would at least help.”
She paused.
“And if footballers are your main target, they often have leg injuries don't they?”
He looked surprised and then nodded.
“What do you do at home?”
“I've got a bath-lifter. Its a sort of collapsing seat that fits in the bath. It lowers me gently and I pump myself up at the end. It works on hydraulics and uses the bath-water as it's fluid. But that wouldn't be any good for your bath, it would destroy the whirlpool action,”
He closed his book.
“You've given me more ideas in ten minutes than my best architect.”
She laughed.
“Just send the fee to my agent.”
He smiled.
“Seriously, send me an e-mail of your children's book recommendations and I'll read it with interest.”
Robert suddenly appeared and Stephen stood up and walked over to her.
“Nice meeting you, enjoy your holiday.”
She smiled.
“And the toaster, it's awful; doesn't go beyond the mildly brown.”
He smiled tolerantly and they left. She thought to herself, ‘toasters! What on earth was I gabbling on about toasters for?’
Robert and Stephen entered the lift to go down to the basement and Robert said.
“Sorry about that, she can be a bit of grouch.’
Stephen laughed.
“Actually I thought she was very respectable. I can see why you brought her.’
Robert shook his head.
“Not my type, too plain, too down to earth, too sensible.’
Stephen patted him on the shoulder.
“I'd forgotten you go for he glamour-puss type, just remember where that got you last time. Sensible is OK in my book.”
Robert gave a treacherous grin.
“Oh and you'd know all about women wouldn't you; wife number three is it now?”
Stephen thumped him on the shoulder.
“And she's very sensible and we're very happy.”
Robert laughed.
“And, of course, she's not the least attractive - I don't think!”
They both laughed and exited the lift.
Just before eleven Robert returned and quietly entered the house, all the lights were out and as he stepped through the door he waved his arm to alert the motion detector. The lights sprang into life in soft mode to reveal Mary and Josie fast asleep on the settee. Mary was languishing on the end seat and Josie was tucked up under her left arm. They looked so peaceful together he was reluctant to wake them up. He stood there looking at the pair of them and remembered her words: ‘every picture tells a story.’ He paused to savour the moment and after a few seconds Mary opened one eye and then the other. She looked at her watch and then at Robert. He went over and scooped up Josie and took her, still seeping, to her bedroom. When he got back to the lounge he said quietly.
“Cup of cocoa?’
She nodded sleepily and he went to the kitchen and after a few minutes returned with the hot drink. He placed he drink on the small table beside her and sat in an armchair.
“Good evening?”
She smiled in recollection.
“We watched the movie Annie, Josie’s not seen it before and I’m sorry to say we'll probably have some of the songs all day tomorrow. You?”
He sipped his drink.
“Yes thanks, haven't had an evening out with him for a long time.”
She moved her footrest slightly.
“Do you regret not being in partnership with him?”
He thought for a moment.
“Not really, he's gone through two divorces and is on his third marriage. You don't get to be a top architect by saying at home, so he's never there and the women he chooses never wait.’
Another little piece of hope inside her died.
“Third wife? He doesn't seem old enough.”
Robert gave a tired smile.
“Looks never tell the whole story.”
He suddenly looked so forlorn she could have hugged him; however, it didn't take much effort of will to resist the temptation. But Stephen’s words flashed through her mind: ‘you do the best you can.
“But you had a good evening.”
“Yes thanks.“ he hesitated. “He's invited me to a computer exhibiti
on on Wednesday
She smiled at his hesitancy.
“Then you go, Josie and I will be OK.”
He seemed uncertain and said carefully.
“You will be able to cope, all day I mean, she can be very tiring.”
She was touched by his concern,
“we'll be fine.”
He flashed a smile.
“Thanks.”
“Where’s the conference?”
He gave a tired grin.
“Amsterdam, we'll fly out from the City Airport.”
She scolded him in a mock manner.
“Well you behave yourself, I know what Amsterdam is like.”
They laughed and he stretched.
“What did you do this morning?”
She considered her answer and decided to tell him of both visits.
“I bought myself a fancy knee brace and went to the Bank of England.”
He looked surprised.
“Why?”
“To talk about the gold coin we found.”
He shook his head.
“I mean the knee brace, I thought you were managing OK?”
She was suddenly touched by his concern.
“My right knee has been getting worse for some time. Susan reckons that the joint is wearing abnormally and I have to prevent lateral knee movement to prolong it's life.”
“Does it help?”
“Amazingly so, I should have done it months ago, perhaps years ago. You don't realise how bad things are getting until you take action.”
He gave her an thoughtful look.
“Can't they give you an artificial joint?”
She visibly winced at the thought.
“Apparently it's quite difficult if you haven't got a kneecap and in any case I've already had two operations on that particular leg and artificial joints have a limited life.”
And the bank?”
“Now that,” she said. “Was very interesting…”
Mary was falling. She was falling when she knew that she should be floating. She tried flapping her arms, but she was still falling. She passed through a cloud and hovered above a greenhouse, she closed her eyes and found herself in the middle of a pile of flower pots. She tried to stand up, but her legs were all bendy. Then, all of a sudden, she felt her legs in a crushing machine and Susan was pulling her about, rocking her backwards and forwards. Mary woke up to find Josie shaking her shoulder and calling her name over and over again. She rolled over to face Josie.