Everything in the Garden

by Jo Verity

  It was like a game of chess, in which she was attempting to anticipate the response of an invisible opponent. It was all too much so she pushed the wires through her ears and fastened the necklace around her throat. In Machiavellian mode now, she went to her underwear drawer, took a pair of navy blue French knickers, the only item that could be thought even slightly provocative, folded them neatly and placed them at the back of the drawer, behind her sensible M&S briefs. The only time she’d worn them she had felt distinctly unsafe, but now they might help ascertain whether anyone was interfering with her underwear.

  She ran downstairs, the earrings swinging heavily from her ears and the beads bouncing on her chest. On her way past Tom’s office, she pushed open the door. He wasn’t there. There was no one in the kitchen either, but an empty wine bottle stood in the middle of the table. She should start thinking about supper. How many would she be feeding? The three of them, Luke and there was Brendan of course. And they couldn’t leave Bill out. If she made plenty of stuffing and added a few sausages, the small chicken should just about go round.

  She prepared it quickly and put it in the oven, then went to look for everyone. As soon as she set foot outside she could hear the sound of raised voices and laughter. Disgruntled at being left out, she was about to go back into the house to sulk when Judith ran across the yard, carrying a guitar. ‘Come on, Auntie Anna. You’re missing the fun.’

  In the summerhouse Brendan, cross-legged on the table, was playing his flute, surrounded by his handmaidens. Flora was strumming a guitar and humming. Celia was singing. Jenny, legs curled up, glass in hand, sat on the sofa. Judith was tuning her guitar. The room throbbed with adulation.

  Anna knelt close to Jenny and put her mouth to her ear. ‘Where are the others? The men.’

  Jenny shrugged. ‘I think they’re in the field. Something to do with grass.’

  The song finished and they applauded themselves, gathering around for Brendan’s approval. He dropped down from the table and came towards her, raising his glass in her direction. ‘Thanks, Anna, for your gracious hospitality.’ She blushed. Furious with herself, a second flush coloured her burning cheeks.

  The party continued and she watched Brendan apply himself to charming them all. Flora and Judith were behaving like schoolgirls. Jenny flirted. Even Celia became quite skittish. At one point Luke peered through the window and went away again. She was the only one to notice him. She, herself, stuck to water and kept her distance.

  Later, Tom came to find her. ‘There’s an awful smell of burnt chicken in our kitchen.’

  19

  They were on their own for breakfast. Brendan had slept in the garden room. Luke was with Bill. And Flora was still upstairs.

  Anna talked at the top of Tom’s head whilst he read a two-day-old newspaper. ‘Flora looks well, doesn’t she?’ Nothing. ‘I didn’t realise Judith had such a lovely singing voice.’ Still nothing. ‘How d’you think Bill’s doing?’ But he wasn’t having any of it.

  He was right. Brendan was trouble. She’d watched the lad wheedle his way into each female heart, abetted by a liberal supply of white wine. The effect he had on the men was equally marked. As their women succumbed, they slunk off to talk about cars and cricket without even putting up a fight.

  ‘We should get rid of him before Madeleine arrives,’ said Tom, when her small talk had petered out. ‘I can guarantee, if we tell him she’s seven months pregnant we won’t see him for dust.’

  ‘That’s a horrid thing to say. Anyway, we mustn’t organise her life for her.’

  ‘It’s never bothered you before.’

  To divert him and without much thought of the consequences, she shook her head violently, causing the earrings to bounce off her cheeks. ‘Notice anything?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course. You were wearing them yesterday. I assumed you would inform me as to the circumstances of their discovery, when you saw fit.’

  Why was he being so pompous? She longed slap him across the face but to suddenly start behaving like that, after thirty years of restraint, could have serious repercussions. But despite her irritation she now knew that Tom had nothing to do with the reappearance of the earrings.

  ‘They turned up in our bedroom, when I tidying up,’ she said, which was perfectly true.

  ‘I’m surprised more things don’t go missing in that chaos.’

  Flora was subdued and aimless. She spent a long time tidying up the pinboard. Anna knew she was waiting until they were alone and, at last, Tom went outside. ‘Everything OK?’ she asked.

  ‘Not really. I’ve had a row with Luke.’

  ‘About Brendan?’

  ‘I’m not sure what it was about. Brendan was in there somewhere.’

  ‘There’ll be lots of rows about Brendan this morning. I’ve already had mine.’

  ‘With Dad? You two never row.’

  ‘He thinks Brendan is going to upset Maddy in some way.’

  Right on cue, the phone rang. It was Madeleine. She was at the bus station in Ludlow.

  ‘Shall I go and pick her up, Mum? It may be the only chance we get for a proper chat.’

  Anna handed over the car keys. ‘Drive carefully,’ she called out, unable to stop herself.

  Absorbed in removing any edible meat from yesterday’s burnt chicken, she didn’t hear Luke come in and jumped when he spoke.

  ‘Sorry,’ he apologised. ‘I thought Flora was here.’

  Anna told him where she’d gone.

  ‘Did she go … on her own?’

  Luke looked like Sally but today she detected Bill in his solemn face. ‘Yes. She wanted Maddy to herself for a bit.’ He stood, hands in his pockets, tall and troubled. ‘How d’you think your Dad’s making out? We’re not sure what to do. He does know we all want to help?’

  ‘I don’t think he realises that he needs help. He thinks Mum’s coming back at any moment.’

  ‘And what do you think?’

  ‘I saw her on Friday. That’s why we came up. Well, partly why we came up.’

  Anna missed Sally and wanted to ask him how and where his mother was. Sally’s companionship was one of the main reasons that she’d thought the move here would work but the Davis family was in disarray and it was selfish to consider her own needs.

  Luke, like a lighthouse in the centre of the kitchen, revolved to watch her as she bobbed around him. In the end she thrust a handful of cutlery towards him and pointed at the table.

  ‘How did she seem this morning?’ he asked.

  ‘Flora? Miserable. She said you’d fallen out. If it’s over Brendan, I wouldn’t worry.’

  ‘I’ve never seen her like that. All girlie and flirty.’

  ‘And why should that bother you?’

  He slumped down at the table, as if his legs had buckled beneath him. ‘Everything’s a mess. Mum’s gone. Em’s gone. Dad’s being weird. I thought I could count on Flo.’

  ‘Count on her for what, exactly?’ she coaxed, laying her hand on his.

  ‘She’ll murder me for telling you. We’re going to get married. But I don’t know if she still wants to go ahead.’

  ‘You don’t imagine she’s going to marry Brendan, do you? You must know her better than that. If you don’t, you shouldn’t even be contemplating marriage. And another thing. You were very silly not to put up a fight, yesterday. Perhaps she thinks you aren’t that bothered, if you just walk away when you see another man chatting her up.’ She tried to lighten things. ‘Forget Brendan. It’s Tom you should be worrying about. He thinks he should be the only man in his daughters’ lives.’

  Luke didn’t look at all encouraged by this. ‘How would you feel about it, Anna? If we got married?’ he asked.

  ‘Luke, I love you dearly but it’s nothing to do with me. You two must sort it out, but I promise I’ll be suitably surprised when you make your announcement.’ She leant across and kissed him.

  He gave her a mournful smile and wandered off to look for his father.

  Her stomach
was fluttery with anticipation and misgivings. They would all be together soon and the pile of unresolved issues was mounting. She hadn’t seen Brendan so far today but she no longer felt obliged to play hostess. He already had enough women running around after him.

  Judith’s car was still parked outside and Mark was cleaning the windscreen with a chamois leather. He waved. ‘That what’s-his-name’s got the gift of the gab, hasn’t he? Judith’s phoned in sick. Never known her do that before.’

  ‘Brendan,’ she supplied the name. ‘Is she not well?’

  ‘She’s well enough to swan off for a walk with young Brendan.’

  Nothing else required her immediate attention and she went into her studio, hoping for some peace and quiet. As her eyes adapted to the gloom, she noticed a shard of pottery on the floor. Then another. She could see better now, and it became apparent that the shelf in the alcove had collapsed, spilling its load onto the floor and the shelf beneath. Crouching, she could see chunks of plates and mugs, scattered all over Tom’s beautiful brick flooring. One of the bowls, Jenny’s she thought, must have bounced and a section of it lay against the wall on the far side of the room. Every item was broken or chipped, except for two plates which had slipped onto the lower shelf and been wedged against the wall by the falling plank. She picked them up, frightened to inspect them too closely, but they were intact and she hugged them to her chest.

  She sat on the clay-spattered stool, sobbing.

  Tom, hearing her, rushed in from his workshop, dropping the tools he was carrying. ‘Oh, Christ.’ Picking his way carefully through the wreckage, as if it were important not to damage it further, he lifted the dangling shelf and inspected the fixings. One of the supporting wooden battens which he had screwed into the return of the alcove had come adrift. The screws were still there, thrust into the red plastic rawlplugs, like tiny swords in their scabbards.

  ‘There’s no way this could have come loose,’ he said. ‘The shelf might have tipped forwards, but the plugs couldn’t have come out like this. It doesn’t make sense.’

  She didn’t want an explanation, she wanted to be comforted. The shelf had collapsed and all her pots were broken. What more did she need to know?

  But Tom wouldn’t let it go. He lifted the shelf and took it to the window. ‘Ahhaaa. Look. See these marks? The shelf’s been prised away from the wall with a screwdriver or something.’

  Did he think that the conclusion that someone had maliciously destroyed her handiwork would make it better? She set the two undamaged plates on the sill and began collecting up the shards, laying them gently in a black plastic bucket as if she were gathering mushrooms for breakfast. Celia’s mug, handle gone, rim chipped. Peter’s bowl, now in three pieces. Sally’s plate, shattered. She inspected the unbroken pieces. They were the plates she’d made for Tom and herself and they’d been stacked, one on top of the other. His black, hers purple, both decorated with dark red lettering.

  ‘It’ll be quicker when you make them next time, now you’ve worked out the designs.’ He smiled encouragement.

  She raised the plates high above her head, as if they were trophies, and waited until he turned around before she dropped them.

  ‘What on earth …?’

  ‘It was a stupid idea. How can a mug embody a person? I don’t know what I thought I was doing.’ She tipped the contents of the bucket back on to the floor.

  Car tyres crunched on the gravel outside.

  ‘Please don’t say anything to the girls about this,’ she pleaded.

  It was six weeks since she had seen Maddy. As well as the obvious bulge, she’d put weight on her face and arms. She’d always worn loose clothes, smocks and swirling skirts, but now she filled them. Standing next to her, Flora appeared slight and boyish in jeans and white t-shirt.

  ‘Don’t say anything. I hate it. It’ll go away afterwards, won’t it?’ They hugged and Anna was surprised how solid the bump dividing them felt. ‘Hi, Dad.’

  They walked to the house, Tom carrying Madeleine’s bags. Either the girls didn’t notice, or chose to ignore their mother’s tear-stained face and she was slightly disappointed. As they went in she caught a glimpse of someone at the landing window of Number One, watching them.

  ‘Where’s Brendan?’ asked Maddy, ‘Is he upstairs? I’ll pop up and see him.’

  ‘Hang on a minute. I think we need to clear something up straight away. Just what is your relationship with him?’ said Tom.

  ‘Tom, please don’t.’ Anna shook her head.

  ‘What did you say?’ said Maddy. ‘I can’t believe you’re going to start this, before I’ve even had a chance to sit down.’ Her voice quavered.

  ‘It’s quite simple. All I want to know is, what is this Brendan to you? A friend? A boyfriend? What? He must be pretty important. You’ve dropped everything and rushed here to see him. You never seem that keen to come and see us.’

  ‘That’s not fair, Dad. How often does Flora come? You never criticise her. Think about it and maybe you’ll understand why I don’t visit more often.’ She hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

  Flora hugged her mother and, shaking her head, went to find Luke.

  Tom began to eat his lunch.

  Anna stood at the sink and looked out of the window. A light breeze scarcely stirred the washing on the line

  About an hour later Flora reappeared. ‘You OK, Mum?’

  Anna nodded her head. ‘Have you had something to eat?’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘Have you and Luke made it up? He was very unhappy this morning.’

  ‘Yes. It was a silly misunderstanding. We’re fine now. Where’s Maddy?’

  ‘Talking to Brendan, upstairs in the living room. And your father’s digging.’ She hoped that, by sticking to hard facts, she might avoid taking sides.

  ‘What was all that about? Dad’s always pretty blunt but you’d think he’d be a bit more considerate. Maddy’s blood pressure must be sky-high.’

  ‘You’ll have to ask him yourself, love. I’m too tired for all this.’

  Tom was the only one who had eaten any lunch and Flora helped her clear the food from the table. Her throat was starting to ache with the strain of not crying. She felt both sick and hungry at the same time and her eyes were sore.

  Anna had read page fifty-six of her book at least four times. Above she could hear Maddy and Brendan talking, their voices rising and falling. Twice she had crept to the bottom of the stairs but could infer nothing from the tone of their conversation. Eventually she’d poured a cup of tea for Tom but he wasn’t in any of his usual bolt-holes and she’d ended up emptying it onto the grass.

  She began doodling on a piece of scrap paper. Apart from the abortive search for Tom, she’d been hanging about in the kitchen now for almost three hours and achieved very little. She had failed to make any headway with her library book. She had washed every dirty dish she could lay her hands on and had wiped down all the work surfaces, twice. She’d designated the kitchen as a buffer zone and it was her duty to remain there in order to prevent them all from attacking each other. Tom was her main concern. He was hiding somewhere, wound up and ticking away like a time bomb, but it might be all right if only she could keep him away from Brendan, and probably Maddy too. There was a sound coming from upstairs which could have been crying or laughing. Maddy had already spent hours rattling about on a bus, then been subjected to Tom’s outburst. Yes, they needed to know how Brendan figured in all this but there had to be better ways of finding out. Tension wasn’t good for a pregnancy.

  There was a tap on the back door and Judith appeared. ‘Is Brendan ready?’ she asked.

  ‘Ready?’

  ‘Didn’t he tell you? I’m giving him a lift back to Nottingham. If you see him, can you tell him I’m rarin’ to go?’ She waved as she left. ‘Catch you next time.’ She didn’t mention Maddy.

  Had she been dreaming or had Luke told her that he and Flora were getting married? How could such a momentous
announcement have drifted, unnoticed, through the kitchen, like thistledown caught on the breeze?

  When Brendan eventually left, she had deserted her post to use the downstairs cloakroom, emerging in time to see him toss his rucksack into the back of Judith’s car before it headed off down the drive.

  Madeleine was lying on her bed, eyes closed, her hand stroking the bedspread. From the day she was born this was the sign that she was about to fall asleep.

  ‘OK, love?’ Anna whispered.

  ‘He’s gone. Dad should be pleased, anyway.’ Maddy spoke without opening her eyes.

  ‘You know that Dad behaves this way because he loves you so much.’

  ‘How come I’m supposed to understand that, but he can’t see that it makes me feel like shit? I can never live up to his expectations. Can you imagine how that feels?’

  ‘Is Brendan very important to you?’

  ‘He’s the father of this baby, if you call that important.’ Maddy had always savoured the moment when she dropped her bombshells. She heaved herself up in the bed. ‘When I first realised that I was pregnant, I tried to persuade Brendan that what we had was more than a casual thing. And it was. It really was. But I didn’t tell him about the baby because I didn’t want to use it to blackmail him into staying with me. I wanted him to stay because he wanted to stay, not because I was carrying his child. He didn’t see it like that and he took off to Ireland.’

  ‘You poor…’

  ‘Let me finish Mum, or I’ll lose my nerve. I didn’t know what to do. Taliesin could see the state I was in. He was very sweet. I told him that I’d decided to have a termination. That’s when he said he’d stand by me, if I wanted to carry on with the pregnancy. He offered to support me and my baby. He didn’t hassle me. I went over and over it and in the end I said yes.’

  ‘Dad and I assumed …’

  ‘Most people did. Tal’s taken all the flak.’

  ‘Does his father know the whole story?’

  ‘No. It’s got nothing to do with him.’