by Penny Feeny
‘I have to bath now,’ she said. ‘Or I’ll ferment.’
He followed her down the landing. ‘I’ll join you.’
‘I’m not sure there’s room for two. It’s a poky little tub.’
‘There’s always room for two. There’s also the matter of our business with the helmet. Shall I fetch it?’
‘No, leave it!’ she ordered, as the water trickled, then spurted from the taps and gathered force. ‘I was only joking.’
‘Helena, you disappoint me.’
‘Your trouble,’ she said, testing the temperature, ‘is you spend too much time clowning around with your students. I’m way past all that now.’
He let her get into the bath first, then sloshed in behind her. ‘I’m not interested in callow students,’ he said. ‘I’ve always preferred older women.’
‘It’s five years, Simon! I’m not your granny.’
He laughed and picked up the cake of soap. His hands skimmed over her skin, tiny translucent bubbles formed and exploded. She squirmed in an effort to avoid his tickling.
‘Keep still now. Raise your leg.’
He was soaping the back of her calf when the ringing started again. She cocked her head to listen. ‘I don’t believe it! What’s up with that goddam phone?’
‘Someone must be very eager to get hold of you.’
‘But there’s nobody . . . Oh my God! Perhaps it’s Allie. Perhaps something’s happened.’ She leapt up and nearly lost her balance. Water splashed over the sides and on to the cork tiles.
‘Whoa there,’ he said, steadying her. ‘Wouldn’t she be more likely to ring your mobile?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll have to check.’ She wrapped herself in Allie’s robe again and went downstairs to dial call-back, but the number was withheld. In her bedroom, after taking some time to unearth her mobile, she scrolled through recent calls and texts: none new, none from Allie.
Simon joined her. ‘It’s obviously a wrong number.’
‘I suppose so, but if it happens again you mustn’t stop me answering it.’ She felt agitated for no clear reason. She crossed to the window and peered out. ‘Switch off the light. I think someone’s outside.’
‘What?’ But he obeyed and came to stand beside her. Among the overgrown shrubs in the front garden there was distinct and sometimes violent movement. ‘It’s only a dog,’ he said.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure. A person would be twice the height.’
‘Not if they were crawling through undergrowth.’
‘Look, you can see its tail.’
The dog bounded to the gate, then turned and headed back towards the house. They lost sight of it as it entered the open porch but they could hear claws skittering at the door.
‘Bloody hell!’ exclaimed Helena.
‘Do you want me to chase it off?’
‘No, I will.’ She pushed her feet into an old pair of espadrilles. ‘And I shall enjoy it.’
Liddy’s first thought, when she saw the shape of the helmet in Helena’s window, was that the police were already there. She was impressed by the speed at which news travelled, until she realized she was looking not at the body of a person but at some kind of pole with one of Helena’s more eccentric hats on top. As she opened the car door she was knocked sideways by Rolo’s sprint for freedom. She hadn’t intended to bring him with her, but Rolo had a way of circumventing other people’s plans. She’d thought he might try and vault the railings into the formal gardens or bound over to the grassy foreshore, sniffing out chip papers. She’d forgotten his attachment to Allie or his likely recognition of her house.
The evening sky wore a faint hue, a silky lilac she associated with summer. Street lamps cast a butterscotch glow. Rolo wriggled through the partly open gate and started ferreting about in the bushes. Liddy had been relieved in a way when the phone rang into a void. She didn’t relish explaining why Allie had gone to Ischia and whether she might have met with an accident there. She had written a brief note outlining the situation and driven over to drop it off, duty discharged. What Helena chose to do next was her own affair.
She assumed Helena was out and the police helmet a bizarre decoy. Then her eye travelled up to the bedroom she’d known so well in her teenage years and she saw the faint light abruptly extinguished. Keeping close to the warm protective bulk of her car, she hissed: ‘Come here Rolo! Here boy. Now!’ He barked joyfully from the porch. With his lead in one hand and a slim ivory envelope in the other, she entered the front garden. In one quick manoeuvre she could post her note, clip on the lead and tear him away. A minute was all she needed.
She had only taken a couple of steps along the path when the door opened. An exposed bulb swung in the hallway illuminating the tall female figure in her rich aubergine gown. For a split second she thought Allie had miraculously flown home. Then the figure spoke: ‘Beat it!’ she shouted. ‘What the fuck d’you think you’re doing, you fucking tramp?’
She’s been drinking, thought Liddy, as Helena flapped her hands and tried to chase Rolo away. He thought this a marvellous game and ran rings around her. She lunged a couple of times for his collar and failed. Liddy bent forward and succeeded. ‘He didn’t mean any harm,’ she said. ‘He’s playful, that’s all.’
Helena bunched her gaping lapels together in her fist. Her face was damp and wild and there was no colour in it. The garden with its phlox and its peeling silver birch, the parked cars, the street itself – all were monochrome. ‘Liddy? Is it you?’
‘Yes.’ That gesture of Helena’s: tilting her head to one side, sweeping her hair around the back of her neck so her ear was exposed, was so immediately familiar it was like hurtling back in time.
‘Is that your dog?’
‘Yes.’
‘What the hell does he think he’s doing?’
‘I think he might be looking for Allie.’
‘Oh.’ Helena gazed down at her feet in the middle of what had once been a flower bed and moved gingerly on to the path. Her canvas espadrilles were rimmed with moisture from the dank weeds. ‘I’m not dressed for this,’ she muttered, heading back to the porch.
‘Helena?’
‘What?’
‘I need to speak to you.’
Helena folded her arms. Lack of make-up gave her face an aura of youth and uncertainty. ‘This isn’t really a good time. It’s quite late and . . .’
‘I’m sorry about Rolo,’ said Liddy. ‘I’m sorry he disturbed you. He wasn’t meant to come but he sneaked into the car before I could stop him. We’re not out walking the block for a last pee before bed. I’ve been trying to ring you.’
‘Oh . . .’ Her eyes cleared, danced a little. ‘It was you.’
‘It’s quite urgent or I wouldn’t have bothered you.’
‘Urgent?’
‘It’s about Allie.’
She caught it at once, the snap in Helena’s features, the sudden tension in her stance, as if she were shielding herself behind toughened glass. This is what it’s like if you have a child, thought Liddy. Love on another plane.
‘Has something happened to her?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You must know something or you wouldn’t be here.’ She’d retreated to the threshold. Liddy hesitated, Rolo’s lead wrapped around her hand like a bandage. ‘Oh for God’s sake,’ said Helena. ‘Come in.’
So after more than twenty years they were face to face again: Liddy and the person whose life she messed up. They were standing, inches apart, at the table where they’d cribbed each other’s homework and customized their clothes on Mrs Ashbourne’s sewing machine, where they’d shared their hopes and fantasies and listed the qualities of the men they were looking for. And Helena didn’t seem any different: still fiery, still unpredictable, still beautiful in an untamed way.
A smell of burning permeated the kitchen. A pan was plunged into soapy water in the sink. Flaccid banana peel lay on the counter top, along with a salt and pepper mill, a Worceste
r sauce bottle, a butter knife freckled with toast crumbs, a corkscrew. Liddy was convinced she could hear movement elsewhere in the house, the pad of bare feet, heavy male breathing. She was nonplussed when a police officer entered the room.
‘Everything okay?’ he said to Helena.
Liddy’s mind lost its focus. Could Allie’s faraway dilemma possibly have been conveyed by satellite to the local nick?
‘Simon, this is Liddy,’ said Helena. ‘We used to know each other.’
It was an accurate statement, but carried a sting in the tail: the unspoken message that nothing would change, affection would not be resumed.
‘Is it your dog then?’ said Simon.
‘He hasn’t done any damage,’ she said defensively and wondered why he laughed.
‘Shut up!’ said Helena in a tone both ferocious and tender, so that Liddy understood at once they were lovers. She found this surprising from the woman who had such a distrust of authority, but he didn’t look like a typical member of the force: there was something slapdash and random about his attire.
‘So tell me, what’s up with Allie?’
‘I’m not really sure. She rang me and then we were cut off.’
‘It’s not exactly normal,’ mused Helena, ‘to go rushing round to someone’s house in the middle of the night just because you lost telephone contact.’
‘It was the way it happened. We were speaking and I heard her mumble something but when I asked her to repeat it because the line was poor, there were various background noises and then silence.’
‘What does that mean? Various background noises? Music? Traffic? A Tannoy? Was she in a restaurant, or a taxi? Waiting at the station?’
‘I don’t know where. But she sounded upset and I thought I heard a scuffle and then a scream. I tried ringing back right away, but her phone was off. I’m here, Helena, because I’m afraid she might be in danger.’
There was the soft plop of a cork being pulled. A bottle appeared on the table along with three glasses. The man called Simon drew out a chair for Helena and guided her into it. He passed her a glass of Merlot and filled two others.
‘I’m driving,’ said Liddy, nervous that she’d already exceeded the limit at home. She wouldn’t have taken the car in the first place, she’d assured herself, if she hadn’t been so concerned. ‘And I didn’t think you were supposed to drink on duty.’
‘Touché.’ He nodded. ‘Too right. But I’m not on duty.’
‘You heard Allie scream?’ said Helena.
‘Well, I’m not absolutely certain . . . it was more of a cry of alarm. It was hard to work out what was going on.’
‘How well do you know my daughter?’
‘Well, I . . . didn’t she tell you? We met, um, some weeks ago and until she went away she walked Rolo for me. Every day. I think, you know, she liked the routine of it, in between all the other things she was trying to set up. He became very fond of her, got wildly excited when he saw her. I’m afraid that’s why he was rampaging around your garden.’
‘That doesn’t explain to me,’ said Helena, ‘why she would ring you up from wherever she and her friends are now.’
‘Italy. She’s in Italy. Apparently the other girls went east but she stayed on.’
Helena was frowning, twirling the stem of her wineglass. ‘Why then?’
‘Why did she ring me?’
‘Jesus, Liddy, why do you need to have everything spelt out for you, etched in four-foot-high letters?’ The flash of anger was almost welcome; at least she was no longer being treated with the cold formality of a stranger. ‘What’s so special about your relationship with Allie that she feels such an overwhelming need to touch base?’
‘She’s on Ischia.’
‘She’s where?’
Simon showed surprise at the shock in her voice. He doesn’t know about any of this, thought Liddy. But then, who does? Not even Allie. Since meeting the girl she’d spent hours agonizing over her right to tell, and Allie’s right to know, the truth. Helena pretending none of it had happened was neither healthy nor honest.
‘She didn’t know anything,’ she said. ‘You’d never told her.’
‘I just didn’t go into detail,’ Helena said with mute rage.
‘I mean, I don’t blame you for wanting to put it behind you.’
‘Just as I don’t blame you for setting the charabanc in motion?’
Simon’s chair squeaked as he scraped it away from the table. ‘I get the impression three’s a crowd here,’ he said. ‘I can call a cab and pick up my car in the morning.’
‘No,’ said Helena, not moving her eyes from Liddy’s face. ‘We’re used to threesomes.’
Liddy knew she was blushing, that every reminder of Jake – even one so tangential – could colour her responses.
‘Anyway, we’re off the point,’ Helena continued. ‘What’s Allie doing on Ischia and why did she ring you?’
‘She met Bobo Baldini.’
‘She what? Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Bobo was a little terror,’ she said to Simon, who’d come to stand beside her with his hand on her shoulder, his polyester policeman’s jacket hanging open. ‘I can’t imagine him as an adult.’
It was a question Liddy often asked herself. At what point did you achieve adulthood? Was it passing your driving test or starting your first job? Buying a property or taking charge of a hefty budget? Being the boss of two, four, or twenty people? She’d always supposed that it happened when you became a parent, that until you’d produced another generation you were in essence still juvenile. Which was patently ridiculous – you only had to look at half the feckless youth of the neighbourhood. You only had to look at Helena, for Christ’s sake, who, while her daughter was in danger, was shagging some weird bloke in fancy dress.
‘Bobo,’ she repeated, ‘and Mimmo too.’
Helena had been resting her chin on her hands; they collapsed to the table top as her elbows gave way. The Merlot gave a giddy jump in its glass. Rolo whined in the porch. She half turned so she was looking up into Simon’s face, speaking with care as if she were assessing the weight of each word. ‘Many years ago, Liddy and I were nannies to two little boys. My daughter appears to have met them by coincidence. Incredible, wouldn’t you say?’
‘He doesn’t call himself Mimmo any more,’ said Liddy. ‘That’s what she was ringing to ask me. I explained that his real name was Massimo, but we didn’t get any further because of . . . whatever happened next.’
‘Is this what we have to deal with?’ asked Simon. ‘What happened next? Do you know how to get in touch with anybody out there?’
‘We could try the Baldinis’ number,’ said Liddy. ‘The villa would have a landline. But at this stage I thought it best if Helena was the one to investigate. I didn’t think it was my place . . .’
‘So it’s not your place to do anything now you’ve thrown the poor girl to the wolves, but it was when you thought you could mess with her head?’ Helena rubbed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as if she were trying to wake from a bad dream. ‘And how do you know the Baldinis still own their villa? She could have met Mimmo and Bobo in a club or something. It wouldn’t be any more outlandish than what you’ve told me so far.’
‘Because I . . . um . . . gave her the address.’
‘What on earth did you do that for?’
‘Well, I didn’t think they’d actually be there. But Allie was interested and, after all, everyone has a right to know their origins.’
‘Ischia was a blip,’ said Helena, ‘in Allegra’s origins.’
‘But Fabrizio –’
‘What exactly have you told her about Fabrizio?’
‘Well . . . hardly anything,’ said Liddy in desperation.
‘You know what I think? It’s your road trip you’ve sent my daughter on. Not hers. Not mine. What are you looking for, Liddy? A chance to turn back the clock?’
‘This is not about me,’ Liddy insisted. Her hand rose to her collar to check her top button.
At least she was fully clothed, contained. She didn’t have bits of her escaping all over the place like Helena. ‘Please can’t we be civilized and sensible about this? I came because Allie seemed distressed about Mimmo. I was worried when I couldn’t get back in contact with her and I thought you should know.’
‘I’m a thousand miles away. What the hell can I do?’ After a moment’s thought, she said, ‘Simon can you fetch my phone from upstairs? I could try Jess or Nita.’
‘Won’t they be a thousand miles away, too?’
‘I don’t believe this. Allie always travels in a gang. I can’t imagine why she didn’t stay with them.’
‘Maybe they fell out?’ Helena gave him a sharp look. He went on, ‘She’ll get in touch again, won’t she? From a call-box or something. And if she doesn’t . . . well . . . would you consider flying over there?’
‘I couldn’t possibly do that,’ Helena said. ‘I don’t fly.’
Liddy remembered Allie had told her something of the sort. Simon looked puzzled: there was plainly a lot about Helena he didn’t know. Liddy said, ‘Look, if there’s anything I can do. I mean, I can’t just drop everything, but we’re in down time at the moment, so with a bit of notice I’d be happy to –’
‘Happy to what? Ride a white horse to her rescue? You’re acting like you think she’s been kidnapped.’
Liddy was surprised she could spit the word out so easily. ‘No, of course not . . .’
‘She can look after herself. That’s the one thing I made sure of, right from the beginning. I may have been a crap parent, but I was the only parent and she needed to learn independence. She overcame a whole load of hurdles and I’m proud of her for it, but I wasn’t standing by to wipe her nose every five minutes.’