by Nicola Slade
‘But you did love her?’ Finn steeled herself to put the question, biting her lips not to follow it with “Did you love her more than me?”
‘I suppose so,’ he shook his head in bewilderment. ‘I must have done, mustn’t I? I mean, I’m not the kind of guy who goes round proposing; I worked abroad a lot, remember, and the girls you met weren’t the kind you marry. I met Amanda not long after I settled back in this country. I remember I was a bit surprised when she decided she wanted us to get married straight away, I suppose … Oh, I don’t know, I remember thinking there was no desperate hurry, but Amanda kept saying things like, how much Mum would like it, how she’d want to be reassured that I would be happily settled, that Pa would have both of us to lean on. My mother had just been given three months to live, you see, but even though I listened to Amanda, I knew, really, that there was no way Mum would put any pressure on me – the pressure was all from Amanda. Mum did tell me, eventually, that she thought we ought to wait a while – till after she died, she meant – before rushing into anything. After all we’d only known each other a few months.
‘I don’t know, all I remember is being crazed with lust about Amanda and worried sick about Mum. What I didn’t know till later was that Amanda had recently been dumped by her long-term boyfriend and got engaged to me on the rebound, hence the need, presumably, for a big splashy wedding, just to show. I suppose she was regretting it even as she finalised the arrangements. But she did know how ill Mum was, Pa wrote to me in Newcastle and told me what Amanda had said, but it’s all a load of bull. I mean, what did she think Mum was doing in a hospice, for goodness’ sake?’
‘Let it go,’ Finn said gently. ‘Delia’s put the curse of the Muncasters on her so she’s doomed for ever more.’ She leaned over and kissed him very lovingly. ‘I wish I’d known your mother, she sounds lovely; I hope she knows about us.’
****
‘So when do you think the wedding will be?’ Ursula and Bobbie were ecstatic and their faces fell when Julia looked blank.
‘No idea,’ she told them. ‘I doubt if they know themselves yet and I wouldn’t dream of interfering. I’m not giving Charlie any scope for in-law jokes.’
The gang had adjourned to Daisy Cottage so that Delia could do what she called “some serious celebrating”, which appeared to consist of abandoning her customary gin in favour of very large measures of brandy, champagne and sugar lumps as she dished out champagne cocktails all round.
‘Champagne’s the drink for a party,’ she informed Jamie as he raised his glass to her. ‘But when it comes to real celebrating you need a bit more oomph, in my opinion. Here’s to the happy couple.’ And when they had toasted Finn and Charlie she raised her glass again. ‘And here’s to dear old Margot, bless her. May she find a heaven where she can dance around naked all day and roger every husky young man she meets.’
Subdued but smiling, they drank to Margot and to Rosemary, then Delia called for refills.
‘No need to be miserable about the old girl,’ she said, briskness failing to disguise how moved she was. ‘Best thing for her in the end, and for Rosemary. Drink up, chums, drink to our jaunt to the sun!’
Jonathan was looking longingly at the television and she nodded when he asked if he might watch the news, so he sat quietly while the others laughed and talked.
Suddenly he shouted to them to be quiet. ‘Listen!’
‘… island in the Caribbean, nineteen of the Japanese tourists taken ill in an outbreak of E-coli in the early hours of this morning, are now on the critical list. Fifty-four other guests at the hotel, mostly Germans and Japanese, were allowed to leave hospital after treatment. The management of the hotel, which only opened in August, issued an assurance that the problem has been traced to one supplier and that stringent hygiene measures are in place. A spokesman said that guests with reservations for next week should have no cause for alarm.’
They listened in silence to the rest of the news bulletin then Delia pressed the button on the remote. There was a collective sigh as they all let out the breath they scarcely realised they had been holding.
‘Ooh-er,’ said Sue, breaking the tension.
‘That’s torn it,’ Jonathan fretted and Marek nodded, his black brows drawn into a fierce frown.
Ursula was fussing and Bobbie’s face was twitching with nerves, as Ursula turned wide blue eyes to Delia for guidance.
‘You don’t think, oh dear … You don’t think we shall have to cancel our holiday, do you, Delia?’
‘Whatever for?’ Delia was bracing. ‘Food poisoning at the end of November isn’t going to affect our holiday in the first week of July. Get a grip, Ursula, have another drink to wash the blues away. I’ve never suffered from food poisoning anyway, it’s all a question of stamina,’ she maintained stoutly. ‘Here, put this inside you, old girl.’ She pushed a refill into Ursula’s protesting hand and stood over the other woman while she drank it. ‘More to the point, you know, talking of our trip, what are you planning to do about Henrietta? Won’t she kick up a stink if you take off for two weeks?’
Two lethal champagne cocktails on top of a couple of glasses of Delia’s favourite Moët in the pub strengthened Ursula’s nerve and she managed not to collapse into an abject heap.
‘It’s all taken care of,’ she said carefully, wondering why Delia couldn’t keep still. Most inconsiderate of her, all that swaying made one begin to feel sick. ‘Henrietta will be taken care of. Since she had that second stroke she’s been much eashier to handle.’ And sho she hash, Ursula thought guiltily. That’sh becaushe she’sh down in the air-raid shelter, that’sh why.
****
Finn woke early next morning and wondered for a moment why she felt so heavenly, then Charlie bent over and kissed her.
‘About time you woke up,’ he teased. ‘I’ve been watching you by the light of the luminous hands on my alarm clock. I was just about to wake you.’
‘You and whose army?’ she laughed at him, kissing his nose with enthusiasm.
‘Don’t need an army,’ he boasted and proceeded to show her. ‘This is how I planned to wake you up.’
‘Wow,’ she said some time later. ‘I have to agree, that would certainly have woken me up.’
They lay wrapped in each other’s arms until Finn wriggled round to look at him, her blue eyes serious. ‘I was thinking about your father,’ she told him. ‘And about Julia. I couldn’t bear it if you died, like your mother, or if you just took off, like Julia’s husband. Promise me we’ll always be together?’
His eyes laughed at her but he said nothing until he had kissed her soundly.
‘I solemnly promise,’ he said affectionately. ‘I solemnly promise that we’ll live happily ever after and die when we’re in our nineties.’ At a protesting wriggle from her, he added, ‘We’ll die in our nineties at the exact same moment, just after we’ve made love for the umpteen millionth time and our children and grandchildren will be absolutely mortified when the report of the inquest is published in The Daily Planet or whatever the hottest tabloid is then!’
Chapter 14
Next day the news from the West Indies was worse. The day after that it was horrific.
‘Sixteen people dead.’
Delia and Julia were having an emergency meeting in the kitchen at Rosemary’s house where Rosemary was making lists, sending letters to relatives and phoning in the notice of Margot’s death to the Telegraph while her two friends kept her going with strong coffee and Danish pastries from the village shop.
‘I know,’ Delia looked up as Julia googled the casualty figures, ‘I thought I was a tough old bird but I must admit that even I feel a bit queasy at the thought. All knocking on a bit, weren’t they?’
‘Uh-huh, sixties, seventies, that sort of age.’ Julia was frowning. ‘Makes you think, doesn’t it? Getting bumped off en masse isn’t what we had in mind when we dreamed up this scheme. I hope they’ll have sorted out their hygiene by next summer.’
‘Safest place
to be, if you ask me,’ suggested Rosemary, taking a break from her telephoning. ‘Oof, I’m bushed, any coffee left, Delia? Thanks.’ She took a long, grateful swig from the mug Delia held out to her. ‘You know? They’ll be paranoid about cleanliness after this, probably hose us all down before they let us in.’
‘Glad to see you’re perking up,’ commented Delia, observing Rosemary’s saddened but relaxed face, all the tension of the last few weeks – months, even – erased at last. ‘How are you getting on with the arrangements for this “green” funeral of Margot’s?’
‘It’s surprisingly uncomplicated.’ Rosemary dropped into a chair and sat with her hands cupping her mug. ‘All you need is authorisation – and Hugh’s a golfing buddy of the coroner, who’s quite happily given his consent. As long as you don’t pollute a watercourse and you register the burial place, the law’s apparently fairly flexible.’
She smiled her gratitude as Julia put a plate bearing an apple Danish in front of her.
‘Thanks, my favourite. As I was saying, some people even leave instructions that they want to be buried in their own garden, and that’s quite legal as long as you don’t snarl up the drains, et cetera. The cautionary note there is that it can have a really bad effect on your property value. Out on the edge of the field, where Margot wanted to be, poses no problem, so that’s a relief. It’s all set for Friday at noon, then back here for a bit of a wake.’
‘Very sensible,’ approved Delia. ‘We can use the same rota we had for my conversazione and drop the food in here during the morning, or the night before, then the main dishes can be left in a slow oven during the funeral. One of us can nip back to the house and start hotting up garlic bread and we can all take turns as waiters and waitresses.’ A thought struck her and she flashed her predatory grin. ‘Unless you’d like us to act as professional mourners? Wailing and rending our garments? Ashes on our heads? Margot would have appreciated that.’
‘Indeed she would, what a charming picture.’ Rosemary’s sarcasm simply rolled off Delia who just grinned even more. ‘Seriously though, that’s such a kind thought about the food, it’ll make life so much easier, thank you.’
At lunchtime on Monday Charlie called round at the shop for Finn and patiently submitted to being congratulated by Hedgehog and Bernard who had dropped in after a trip to the feed merchant.
‘She’s a lovely girl,’ Hedgehog told him, his shiny button eyes gleaming with emotion, ignoring Finn’s seven years’ seniority. ‘You look after her, you hear?’ He took hold of Charlie’s sleeve in sudden anxiety. ‘You won’t make her stop working here, will you? I can’t do without her, y’know.’
‘No, of course I won’t,’ soothed Charlie, only to be interrupted by his irate bride.
‘Am I invisible or something?’ Finn snapped indignantly. ‘What is this? I say where I’ll work, not you – either of you. Even if you are my boss,’ she added with a glare at Hedgehog.
‘Atta girl!’ Bunny beamed approval. ‘How about Hedge and me as bridesmaids? Be a bit different, wouldn’t it?’
She calmed down and grinned at him.
‘Brilliant, Bunny! Both of you in tweed kilts, do you think?’
‘As long as I’ve got somewhere to keep a bottle handy,’ he assured her. ‘I don’t care what I wear.’
‘Oh wonderful.’ Charlie rolled his eyes and took Finn by the arm to drag her towards the door. ‘The wedding of my dreams, I can see it now, with Ursula and Delia as flower girls for good measure: grannies, drunks and dopeheads, just how I always pictured it.’
Out in the town square he pulled her into the lee of the statue towering over them.
‘Seriously, Finn,’ he brushed a raindrop off her nose and kissed her gently, ‘are you sure about this? Getting engaged, getting married?’ You haven’t known me very long, are you sure this is what you want?’
‘I’ve known you as long as you’ve known me,’ she countered, then, as she registered anxiety in his brown eyes, she sobered. ‘Yes,’ she told him eagerly. ‘I didn’t know, till you asked me, that this was what I wanted. I just knew there was a gaping void when you weren’t there, but this feels so right. Even when I was so angry, I knew I’d rather be furious with you than peaceful without you. It’s taken me years to find out, but – everything falling into place, everything making sense – I can’t explain it but yes, it’s exactly what I want.’
****
On Wednesday night it stopped raining and by Friday morning it was actually possible to walk across Margot’s field to her funeral without the need for wellington boots.
‘I like the new vicar,’ Sue whispered to Julia as they stood at the grave-side listening to the brief address. ‘She’s speaking like a normal person, sounds as though she’s taken the trouble to find out what Margot was really like. She’s not just rattling it off without thinking.’
‘That’s a woman for you,’ Julia shrugged. ‘Pregnant too. Looks as though she ought to be on maternity leave.’
‘I’m glad to have met Margot, even briefly,’ the vicar was saying. ‘Old age takes us all in so many different ways and sometimes the veneer of a lifetime of polite behaviour is stripped away, leaving us curmudgeonly, mean, fearful, some angry, some resigned. Some people are so fundamentally good that this quality shines through and others are blessed by an innate good-heartedness. From the stories I’ve been told Margot seems to have tackled old age and mental inability head-on, with a cheerful courage we could all emulate, though perhaps …’ she gave a roguish smile, ‘… perhaps with a little less of the nudity!’
Back at the house Bobbie and Ursula, whose joint feline foster-motherhood seemed to be turning into a comfortable aunt-niece relationship, formed the advance guard, setting out casserole dishes and platters of goulash, shepherd’s pie, garlic bread and salad, along with crisps and cheese, with apple pie and ice cream to follow.
‘All right, Rosemary?’ Julia paused in passing to give Rosemary a warm but precarious hug, with considerable danger to the tray of glasses she was carrying in her other hand.
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ Rosemary assured her and she looked it, Julia decided, heading towards the hall where Charlie and Finn had been cornered.
A fine diamond,’ Delia pronounced, admiring Finn’s engagement ring. ‘And when do you two propose to be married?’ She looked Charlie up and down, apparently approving what she saw. ‘No qualms about this wedding, then? Not worried about being left in the lurch this time?’
‘Delia!’ Julia hurled herself into the breach. ‘You are the most impossible person I’ve ever met. Charlie, pay no attention to her, it’s none of her business.’ As Charlie’s only reaction was to laugh at the pair of them, she went on, emboldened. ‘It could probably be called my business, though, as big sister of the bride. Have you got round to thinking about dates and places yet?’
She stood waiting with avid curiosity, but Finn shook her head.
‘You and Charlie’s father will be the first to know,’ she said firmly, then giggled. ‘I told you about Bunny wanting to be a bridesmaid, and dragging Hedge into it, didn’t I?’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Julia told her. ‘I should think Hello magazine will be panting to take photos, don’t you? Seriously, though, we’re rather poorly supplied with relatives, you know. Both our parents were only children and apart from Cousin Maeve in Killarney – and she smells– I can’t think of anybody. Very poor breeding stock we are; I couldn’t have children and your biological clock must be getting near its last gasp. Maybe you’d better reconsider, Charlie? I mean, you don’t want to be the last heir of the Stuarts, do you?’
Charlie turned away from watching with an appreciative grin his father initiating the vicar, whose eyes were glazing, into the intricacies of the Stuart dynasty. ‘It needs thinking about,’ he said seriously. ‘I’ve no brothers or sisters, nor did Pa. My mother’s only sister never married and she’s a research scientist in the Antarctic, so apart from a few cousins somewhere down the line, we’re badly off too
. I think we’d better call it off, Finn.’ He turned to her, towering over her in a manner deeply satisfying to his future sister-in-law. ‘I’d better find a girl who’s the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, then we can add some class to the breed. Hey,’ he grinned at Julia again, ‘I’ve just thought, I suppose Finn’s a Catholic?’
‘No,’ she shook her head decidedly. ‘When Finn and I visited Ireland to visit an old aunt, I’d an argument with the priest at the aunt’s church about the evils of divorce and bringing shame onto my good Catholic family. And him a whisky priest, too, and known to be fumble-fingered with the altar boys, so I gave up on religion and Finn never took to it at all.’
They were interrupted by Rosemary who was tapping a spoon against her glass.
‘I just wanted to thank you all for coming,’ she said, the nervous quaver in her voice vanishing in the sympathetic reaction her announcement evoked. ‘Margot would have been surprised and touched at the kindness you’ve all shown and I know she’d have been in seventh heaven to see so many good-looking men in one room.’
Gradually the rest of the company slipped away after speaking very kindly to Rosemary and the only visitors left were the members of the Hope Springs gang. Jonathan Barlow, after several false starts, managed to pluck up courage and talk to Finn.
‘Orchids!’ he said in an explosive whisper and when she looked puzzled, he took a deep breath and got the sentence out. ‘I grow orchids in my greenhouse … your sister might have said?’ When she nodded politely he looked gratified. ‘I thought … at least, I wondered … Your wedding. I wondered if you’d like to have some for your bouquet? It would be my pleasure.’