‘I’ll need the puncture repair kit, the pump and a bowl of water,’ he said.
‘Yes, doctor,’ she said.
He looked at her uncertainly. Was she teasing him? But her face was smiling as though she had some secret she wasn’t going to tell.
‘Just kidding,’ she said. ‘A bowl of water?’
‘Yes, a big bowl, like a washing up bowl. About three quarters full.’
‘Really?’ she said, grinning.
‘No, really,’ he said, realising that she thought he was joking. ‘You’ll see.’
And then. ‘Trust me.’
It felt good to say that. She disappeared and returned almost immediately with the bowl of water. She had taken off her hat. The colour of her hair made him think of honey and gold and wheat fields towards sunset. Her face and throat were tanned. She went inside again, he heard some drawers being opened and shut and then she was back with the puncture repair kit in a little tin box. Finally she went in a third time and brought back two glasses of lemonade on a tray and the bicycle pump under her arm.
‘Do you mind if I watch?’ she said.
‘Not at all,’ he said with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. He took the lemonade and almost emptied the glass. He was very thirsty.
He got the tyre off easily and extracted the tube. He pumped it up and then put it into the bowl of water, squeezing it while running it through his hands a piece at a time.
‘Why are you doing that?’ she asked.
With perfect timing he saw the tiny stream of tell-tale bubbles.
‘See,’ he said. ‘In the water. The bubbles mean there’s air coming out. That’s where the hole is.’
She squatted down beside him. She smelt of flowers.
‘Yes, I see it,’ she said. ‘That’s so clever’.
‘It is, isn’t it? My dad showed me how to do it,’ he said, turning to look at her.
What perfect skin she had. He noticed the tiny lines on her lips. He wanted to keep looking. He wanted to study her face – the straight nose, the curve of her jaw. He wanted to reach out and touch her cheekbones. He felt a mad urge to kiss her.
Instead he took the tube from the water, holding his thumb on the punctured spot. Then, bending the tube around his forefinger, he blew on it until it dried. He marked the area around the hole with chalk from the repair kit. Rummaging in the little box, he found a small piece of sandpaper and sanded the area he was going to patch. Finally, he applied the glue and pressed down the patch. He stood up.
‘Now we have to wait a few minutes,’ he explained. ‘For it to dry.’
‘More lemonade, Lewis?’ she asked.
It was the first time she had said his name.
‘Yes please.’
‘Are you on holiday?’ he called as she disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few moments later with a jug.
‘A sort of long holiday.’
He wasn’t quite sure what she meant by this but before he had a chance to think about it, she said, ‘So they packed you off here by yourself?’
‘That’s right. I’ll be going away in November anyway. My Dad thought it would be a good idea for me to do this. Get used to being on my own, fending for myself, that sort of thing.’
‘You probably won’t be on your own much once they get you in the Army,’ she said.
‘No, I suppose not,’ he agreed.
He didn’t know what to say next, so he said. ‘It doesn’t take long for the glue to dry.’
‘That’s good.’
‘Oh, and I’ll need two spoons.’
She cocked her head slightly and looked at him.
‘Spoons.’
It was a statement rather than a question.
‘Yes, big ones. Not teaspoons. Dessert spoons or soup spoons.’
‘Whatever you say,’ she said, as she went back into the house, returning with the spoons.
‘Now this is the tricky bit. You have to get the tube back in without pinching it between the tyre and the wheel. That could just puncture it again.’
He repositioned the tube on the rim and then, using the handles of the spoons, levered the tyre back on. He was sweating by the time he’d finished but he wasn’t sure whether this was from the heat of the day or the exertion or the fear that he’d messed it up. He pumped up the tyre, squeezing it from time to time between thumb and forefinger. Finally, he was happy with it.
‘You’d better test it. We should take it back out on the road.’
‘Oh, we don’t want to do that now,’ she said. ‘It’s time for tea. I’ll try it here.’
She stepped through the frame of the bike, her skirt fluttering. She put a foot on one of the pedals and hoisted herself onto the saddle. Wobbling crazily, she began to pedal. Terrified that he had made a mess of it, Lewis stared at the front tyre, trying to see if it held its sausage-like shape. Helen reached the corner and disappeared round it. He heard her squeal and laugh and he went to the corner. But when he reached it she had already disappeared. He turned back and a few moments later she came round the other corner of the cottage. She was beaming.
‘Is it holding up?’ he asked, anxiously.
‘Perfect,’ she said. ‘You’re wonderful, Lewis. Thank you.’
He felt a surge of pride and happiness. She wobbled to a halt and as the bike toppled over, she put a foot down to brace herself. She stumbled and he held out his arms to catch her and the bike. He caught it with one hand but then realised he was going to need both hands to catch her. He let the bike go just as she fell into his arms. He smelt her perfume and her hair tickled his face. He could feel her soft shape against him. For an instant he felt the soft mounds of her breasts on his chest.
She stepped back, still laughing, and he picked up the bike. They stood facing each other, the bike between them. He marvelled at her soft green eyes and the arches of her eyebrows.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You’ve been so kind.’
And then after a pause, ‘And now, we must have tea. You’ll stay, of course.’
It was more than he could have hoped for. But now he realised that he wouldn’t be able to. He hadn’t told Mrs Middleton that he wouldn’t be back. Helen must have seen his hesitation. Her smile faded.
‘Is that alright? Tea, I mean. You will stay, won’t you?’
Bugger it – he would worry about Mrs Middleton later. But when he spoke, he found himself saying, ‘‘I’d love to. It’s just that well, I’m afraid I can’t. You see, the place where I’m staying – I have to tell them if I won’t be back for dinner. And I never told them.’
He thought he sounded like a little boy. He was stupid. He should have said nothing and just accepted and got to spend all that extra time with her. He could have dealt with Mrs Middleton later.
But Helen said, ‘Oh, is that all? Well, don’t worry about that. I thought you didn’t want to stay.’
‘No,’ he blurted out. ‘I’d love to. I‘d love to have stayed. Could we … could we do it some other day?’
He thought he was being incredibly presumptuous. She shrugged.
‘How about tomorrow, then?
‘That would be wonderful.’
‘Very well then, it’s all agreed. And now I’d better let you go so that you’ll be back in time. We don’t want to keep your landlady waiting, do we?’
He wondered if this was more teasing but there didn’t appear to be any trace of it on her face.
‘Will you be down on the beach?’ he asked eagerly. ‘Tomorrow, I mean?’
She thought for a moment.
‘No, I don’t think so – not tomorrow. I’ve got lots to do around here. Washing, tidying, that sort of thing. But never mind that. Just come up when you’re finished. You know the way.’
They shook hands when he left. Lewis walked back to Mrs Middleton’s in a daze of delight. He had always hoped to meet a girl when he came down here. Insofar as he had imagined her, she had probably been just finished school like him, slim with blonde hair and a pret
ty face. He had seen them having lots of interests in common, going for long walks around Fowey, talking endlessly, lingering in little coffee shops or watching the sun set.
But this? This was so much more than he could have hoped for – and so much better than meeting some silly girl his own age. Here was a woman who had experience of the world. She was someone from whom he could learn things and – maybe, he hoped – talk to about his innermost fears, especially the fear of what lay ahead in November. She could become his friend. They could write to each other when he was in the Army. He would probably get ragged for it, he thought with a smile. Other men would think he was writing to his girlfriend or getting letters from her. Little would they know. She could give him advice and he could talk or write to her about his problems. When he came home on leave they could see each other. He found himself wondering again who else was in her life, but he put that thought away for the moment, as he floated back to Mrs Middleton’s. He wondered if he would dare, at some stage before the summer was over, ask Helen for a photograph of herself.
13
They moved house. Lewis was four or five at the time. It happened all of a sudden. Nobody said anything to him. But suddenly they weren’t in the old house any more and they were living in the house in which his grandmother – Dad’s mother – lived.
The new house was much bigger and on a wide street. In the front a low wall with green railings mounted on it, enclosed a hedge and then a small patch of grass. The house had two bay windows and a door with a round arch over it. Three wide steps led up to the door with a stained glass window in it. On the roof was what Dad called a dormer window.
Lewis quickly got the lie of the land. The dining room was in the back of the house with the kitchen. The living room was in the downstairs front room while Grandma slept in the corresponding room upstairs. His parent’s room was at the back of the house over a reasonably sized garden. Lewis had the room at the top of the house with the dormer window.
Lewis only met this grandma once. He thought it funny that she spent all her time in bed. Dad went with him, knocking gently on the door and opening it timidly when a croaky voice called, ‘Come in’. It was summer with lots of summer sounds outside. Inside the room was very warm and the curtains were closed. The room smelt dusty and old. Lewis was reminded of the Captain’s chest in Treasure Island. The air felt thick like breathing in soup. It was a tiny bit frightening, except Dad was there. The old woman in the bed said, ‘Hello Lewis. Give your grandmother a kiss, there’s a good boy.’
Dad picked him up, the heavy smell got stronger and he felt a froggy kiss on his cheek. Lewis thought it was all a bit peculiar. He didn’t see his grandmother again after that. In time he would learn that she had died.
That night, curled up in his old bed but in a strange new room, he could hardly sleep with excitement. New sounds came up from the street below. Several times he crept over to the curtains and looked out. On one occasion, a man and a girl walked hand in hand on the other side of the street. The man stopped and swung around the gaslight. When he swung back onto the pavement, he happened to glance up. His eyes met Lewis’ and the man smiled and waved. The girl looked up too and laughed. Lewis waved back.
Next morning, Mum went out with Lewis to do some food shopping. The little porch with its curved arch was irradiated with sunlight as they stepped out into the heat of late morning. Mum wore a fawn skirt and a white blouse and her dark hair fell below her shoulders from a straw hat with a cornflower blue ribbon. They crossed to the far side of the street where the trees gave some shade.
The shade was gone by the time they got to the shops and it was a relief to walk into the cool saw dusted interior of the grocers, with the name ‘Barton & Son’ painted in copper on the large plate glass window. The shop smelled of bacon. A man with large moustaches smiled at them from behind a marble counter.
‘Morning Ma’m, lovely morning again. Can I be of any assistance?’
‘Yes please, I have quite a long list of things.’
‘Never fear Ma’m, we’ll take care of all that and have it delivered to you.’
‘Thank you, that’s very kind of you.’
She began to run down her list.
‘My, you are stocking up, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, we’ve just moved in – in Shalimar Terrace.’
‘And who is this little gentleman?’
Lewis gave his name to the tall figure in a blue apron with white stripes.
‘Well, here we are young sir, this is for you,’ said the man offering him a large red apple.
When she had finished, the man asked if she would like to pay or open an account.
‘Oh, I’ll pay,’ said Mum enthusiastically, taking some banknotes from her purse. The groceries would be delivered in the next hour or so. They left the shop and walked back home.
‘What do you think of the new house, Lewis?’ asked Mum.
‘I like it. I like my room. I like where it is on the top of the house.’
Then he said, ‘Do you like it, Mum?’
‘Do I like it?’ she mused. ‘Well, I loved our other house. I really loved that. And there’s a lot of extra work now having to take care of your grandma. But yes, it’s nice I suppose. And we have some extra money now, so that’s good.’
They walked on in silence until she said, ‘But I miss the old house. I really loved that house. I felt that that house was my house.’
Lewis looked up at her. She looked very sad and her eyes were wet.
‘Are you alright, Mum?’ he asked.
She sniffed and reached into her bag for a hankie. She looked down at him, and said, ‘Yes, I’m fine, darling. I’m fine.’
She blew her nose and put the hankie back in her bag. She was silent as though she was thinking about something but as they approached the house and Lewis saw the green railings, she said, ‘So – what would you like to do this afternoon?’
‘I was going to take my fort and soldiers out into the new garden.’
‘That sounds like a good idea,’ she said. ‘Maybe I’ll do some work in the garden myself this afternoon. It could do with a good tidy.’
14
Lewis woke in the middle of the night. He was in his bed in Mrs Middleton’s. Outside the seagulls shrilled as usual and somewhere a lone duck quacked as if to say, ‘I’m here too, you know’. A memory had come back to him – something he had forgotten about completely but now, suddenly, for some reason, it had come back to him with startling clarity. As far as he could place it, it had happened when he was six or seven.
Dad had announced that they would be going to the beach for a summer holiday. So a few days later, at breakfast, Mum said to Lewis that they would have to go into town to get some things. Mum had a bath and got dressed and then they walked the short distance to the bus stop.
It was the beginning of the summer. The morning was already hot so that Mum wore just a white blouse and a long skirt. The material swished as they walked along. She felt so tall with her dark chestnut hair tied up. The sky was already a rich blue and the birds sang. On the bus, the conductor whistled as he went up and down the aisle clicking his ticket machine. ‘Any more fares please?’ In London, they went into a huge shop where Mum began to browse among the swimsuits on a rail. An assistant hovered nearby and smiled at Lewis. Eventually Mum chose a couple from the rail and the assistant showed the way to the changing rooms.
‘Come over here, darling, where I can see you,’ said Mum.
Lewis did as he was told. Mum went into the changing room and left the door ajar. There was a full-length mirror right inside the door and she and Lewis could see each other in it. She unbuttoned her white blouse with its puffy sleeves, took it off and hung it on a hook. Underneath she wore what looked like a vest to Lewis, except that it had lacy pieces that ran over her shoulders. The skin of the lower part of her arms was tanned from working in the garden. Mum put one foot on a chair that stood to one side of the mirror and hitched up her skirt a little
. Beneath the blue skirt was a froth of white. She untied her lace and eased off the shoe, placing it on the floor. She wore white stockings. She took off the other shoe in the same way and placed it beside the first one. One shoe stood up while the other one fell on its side.
Next Mum undid the wide belt she wore around her waist and dropped it onto a chair. She unbuttoned her long blue skirt and stepped out of it, draping it over the back of the chair. Now Lewis could see that the lacy vest was actually part of a single garment with legs that came down below Mum’s knees. The ends of the legs were also lacy and there were lacy looking flowers on the front of the vest part.
Lewis thought she looked very beautiful but also he got a sense that she needed to be taken care of – just like Jim Hawkins did for his mum in Treasure Island. There was something defenceless about her as she stood there. She knew so much about so much and yet, at that moment, Lewis felt stronger than her; older than her, in a strange kind of way. In her normal day-to-day clothes, she was a woman, his mum. But it was as though he was seeing her now as the little girl she had been when she had been his age – dressing as her mum watched over her.
Lying in his bed in the darkened bedroom, Lewis realised that it was the little girl on the beach again. But he remembered clearly how he had felt at the time. He realised that up to that day, it was only Dad who had seen her undressing like this. But now Lewis had seen her too. It was a new bond between them. She was his Mum and he was her little boy and she took care of him. But now he realised that he had to protect her too; in some ways she was a little girl and he was the man. He would do his best to make sure that she was never sad – especially as she was sometimes with Dad.
The first swimsuit was navy blue with white trim on it, so that it looked a bit like a sailor suit. Mum put one leg into the pants of the swimsuit, then the other, pulled it up, over her white lacy thing. Now she put the top on – a sleeveless jacket that wrapped around and tied with a belt. She looked in the mirror, turned to one side and struck a pose. Then she did the same on the other side. She saw him looking at her.
Starlight (The Four Lights Quartet Book 1) Page 7