Belinda felt only slightly reassured. She didn’t think that Mitch would be Elliot’s partner of choice. ‘Oh, yes, fine Simon,’ she said, distractedly, reaching preserves down from a cupboard. ‘Thank you, that top oven on the left. Well, he does enjoy golf. But he was up very late working on some figures. And then Granny gave him rather a shock.’ Everyone smothered laughter. Granny’s nocturnal meanderings had caused quite a furore in the night. ‘So as far as I know he’s still in bed.’
‘Well, there’s no rush, I don’t suppose; it’s early.’
Belinda placed small plates and knives on the table. Heather was right - she did feel like a mother hen. Her inclusive instinct was not to be suppressed. ‘What about Ruth? And what about poor Rachel?’ she asked James.
He reached for the toast-rack. ‘Rachel’s still feeling a bit fragile. A day at home on the settee with her quilt and a good book will be just the ticket for her,’ He spread his toast thickly with butter. ‘Ruth is much improved, I believe. Slept well. She’s rather fancying a trip to the pottery I think, if there’s room in the car.’ He left the question hanging. Belinda tried to imagine herself abandoning Ellie at such a time, but said nothing.
James however, read her thoughts and after chewing thoughtfully for a while said in a low voice, ‘Sometimes, between Rachel and Ruth, less is more.’
The question of Ruth’s inclusion remained in the air. ‘Well,’ Miriam sighed, closed the supplement and picked it up like a metaphorical hot potato. ‘It would be just lovely if Ruth came with us, wouldn’t it Heather? Are those croissants warm yet, Simon darling?’
He opened the Aga door and placed his hand on the pastries. ‘Not quite. Will Rob enjoy some outdoor activity? I don’t think he’s stepped out of doors since he arrived on Friday. I do worry about him...’
‘So do I,’ Belinda sighed, ‘but Elliot did say that he had to get his course work finished today.’
‘Oh yes. Well. That’s a shame. But I suppose it will be a good thing all round to get that computer off the scene. Maybe tomorrow...’
Heather cut toast into postage stamp sized squares for Starlight. ‘Rob’s chi is in melt-down. He’s screaming, that young man, just screaming for attention,’ she mused, almost to herself, and then to the room at large, ‘The baby slept through!’ Her pride could not have been greater if Starlight had been awarded a Nobel Prize.
‘I’ve lost my baby,’ lamented Granny from the doorway where she stood between Muriel and Les, ‘but it might have been Arnold’s little brother.’ She shook her head sadly.
‘June will be down presently,’ Les said quickly. Lost babies was a tricky area on a variety of levels.
Simon brought the croissants to the table. ‘Careful Todd,’ he said. ‘They’re hot. And don’t snatch.’
‘Ooh lovely,’ Muriel cooed. ‘Like being abroad.’
Miriam tore open her croissant. ‘I hope June didn’t mind us waking her in the night,’ she said with a mischievous twinkle. June had seemed to mind very much at the time. It had taken her a long time to open her door and they had waited on the landing for what seemed like an age while she fussed and flapped and shouted. ‘I’m coming, just a minute, don’t come in.’
‘Why would she!’ Simon cried with ironical bluster, ‘everyone else was awake, in all conscience, and someone had to put Granny back to bed!’ He looked around the table where people were nodding enthusiastically, even Les.
Simon showed Todd how to eat his croissant, tearing mouth-sized pieces off and loading them with butter and jam. ‘Is this the last of the butter, Belinda?’ he asked.
‘I prefer the unsalted brand that we brought, anyway, Simon. It’s in the fridge I think, if you could pass it,’ Miriam said.
‘Oh!’ Belinda clapped her hand to her forehead. ‘I’ve just remembered something. I’ll have to stay home today, after all.’
‘What? Why?’ Simon and James threw each other looks.
‘Tesco are delivering some groceries. I’ll have to be here to put them all away.’
‘That was a clever thing to arrange,’ said Miriam, genuinely impressed. ‘I had the grim foreboding that a mass shopping expedition might be on the cards.’
‘I like shopping, I’ll come,’ said Granny, brightening.
James and Simon looked at Les, who came in right on cue. ‘June and I can see to the shopping. You go out Belinda, and don’t worry about a thing.’
By eleven o’clock James, Belinda, Mary and Muriel had departed in Belinda’s car, James at the wheel.
‘Am I insured?’ he had asked, doubtfully, when Belinda handed him the keys.
‘Oh yes. The company pays for comprehensive cover for any driver appointed by a director. I’m a director, and I’m appointing you.’ Catching a glimpse of herself on the edge was what was almost a flirtatious giggle, she reigned herself back with a business-like, ‘It’s handy really, you can imagine how much it would have cost us to insure Rob in this car, with only a provisional licence?’
James viewed the sleek lines of the high-powered BMW. ‘I shudder to think,’ he said.
Muriel had been persuaded to leave Roger behind in Les’ care. ‘I really don’t think they’ll allow him inside the house and it’s cruel to leave dogs locked in cars, isn’t it?’ Belinda had said briskly, wishing to avoid having the dog in her car – Elliot wouldn’t have approved – and in any case an hour spent in any enclosed space with Roger was to be circumvented if possible. He was such a smelly dog.
‘Oh well, yes, of course. I’d never do that. You see them sometimes, don’t you, locked in cars outside shops and things? Heart rendering.’
James and Belinda shared a smile over her head.
‘I can’t think of the last time I went out without Robert to worry about.’ Mary had on her best coat and good gloves and sensible shoes. She was really looking forward to the outing.
‘Just relax and enjoy yourself Mary. Robert will be fine. With any luck, and if the weather holds, we’ll be able to do the grounds as well as the house. The leaflet says that Hunting-in-the-Forest has the national salvia collection and now’s just the time to see that.’
Mary sighed. ‘Lovely.’
Not long after they had driven away Heather followed in Jude’s jeep.
‘Poor Rachel. I’m sorry she isn’t well enough to come.’ Tansy said from her place next to Starlight. Starlight’s car seat had innumerable rattles and toys attached to it. Tansy placed one into the baby’s chubby fist.
‘To be honest she isn’t very good at art,’ Ruth replied over her shoulder. After some polite manoeuvring she had secured the front seat. Miriam had climbed good-naturedly into the back, onto the bench seat, surrounded by baby paraphernalia. ‘It would have been a waste of money. I wish you’d let me make some sandwiches, Heather. The cafés in these places are always extortionately expensive.’
‘Are they? I wouldn’t know. You’ve got the map? I don’t mind driving but I’m hopeless at navigating.’
‘Yes, don’t worry. I’ve marked the pottery here, with a cross, look.’
Ellie put in, ‘I’m not very good at art either. Although I am doing it for GCSE. But Mrs Goddard says I’ll get a D, if I’m lucky.’
‘You ought to be able to get at least a C on coursework alone!’ Ruth exclaimed.
‘Mmm. Well. Coursework proved a bit tricky, in the end.’
‘I hope to do art,’ said Tansy.’
‘But you probably won’t,’ Miriam said. ‘You’ll do proper, academic subjects; sciences, languages and so on. You can do art anytime.’
‘I don’t suppose Starlight’s going to produce anything very good,’ mused Heather, 'but she will enjoy the experience.’
Ruth was incredulous. ‘Surely, you’re not going to pay for Starlight to throw a pot are you? At her age?’
‘Certainly I am. Which way at this junction, Ruth? Left?’
Simon and Jude remained at the house and attempted to get the boys organised.
‘A change of clothes
, towel, dry footwear, waterproofs. Come on boys we have to be prepared for anything.’
‘Ice-picks, parachutes, scuba-gear...’ Jude added wryly, ticking them off on his fingers.
‘Has everyone been to the toilet?’
‘Oh, no, Uncle Simon, I haven’t.’
‘Off you go then Ben, quick as you can.’
‘Why can’t Rob come?’ Toby asked sulkily.
‘His dad said he has to finish his homework.’
‘It’s a shame. I could have been his canoe-buddy. Now we’ll have an odd man out.’
‘Why?’ Todd turned to him.
Toby sneered down at his brother. ‘Everyone knows that canoes are for two people, silly. There are five of us. Duh?’
‘Don’t talk to your brother like that Toby,’ Simon frowned.
‘I can go in a kayak,’ said Jude. ‘I’m used to being the odd man out.’
‘I want to be with you Daddy,’ said Todd, suddenly rather afraid.
‘I want to be with you, Daddy,’ Toby echoed, under his breath.
‘Don’t worry, little man,’ said Simon.
Elliot made his appearance at last, resplendent in golfing regalia. Mitch, in jeans and a sweatshirt, was waiting for him.
‘I’m so sorry if I have kept you waiting Mitch,’ Elliot gushed, knowing that he had. ‘I had some important figures to email through and the dial-up here seems very unreliable. I’ve been trying to get them done since Saturday but everything and everyone has conspired against me.’ Secretly, he had hoped that Mitch might have given up on him and gone out with the others. It would have suited Elliot to have had a genuine source of umbrage, today. He badly needed to re-establish himself in a position of authority. People were making plans without him, posturing in a ridiculously clannish way, exuding family solidarity from every hypocritical pore. It seemed to him that everyone was secretly laughing at him, even the old crone who had scared him almost witless last night, wandering into his room and poking him awake with her gnarled old fingers and leaning over him so closely that he had been able to feel her whiskers on his face.
At the sound of his father’s voice in the hall Rob appeared at the door to the study. He looked flushed and pained.
‘Dad,’ he said, ‘this is just crap. I can’t do my coursework here. The internet keeps dropping off and the printer’s almost out of ink. It all just stinks. I just can’t do it. Please won’t you take me home?’
‘No.’ Elliot squared up to him. ‘You’ll get back in there and get your nose back on that grindstone. Finished or not that computer’s going away tomorrow.’ Before Rob had time to remonstrate Elliot turned away, dismissing him. ‘Sorry, Mitch,’ he said, without much conviction. He didn’t know how to treat this young man. What was he anyway? An employee? If so, what was he doing here? Or with a handicap of seven, for that matter?
‘It’s OK,’ Mitch replied, opening the door. ‘We don’t tee off until one anyway. I put my clubs in your car.’
Elliot cringed and threw an angry retort over his shoulder. ‘I suppose I’ll have to hire. There was no room for mine once we’d packed that bloody computer. Alright then. Let’s go.’
When they had gone Rachel brought her quilt down to the games room and snuggled onto one of the settees. The tablets left by Dr Gardner had made her sleep deeply but her face felt sore and monstrous with a wide blue bruise. Her hair was sticky - Grandma had not let her wash it. Down below she ached and throbbed.
Ruth had been up to see her, brisk and bossy, to show her what to do. ‘Just like you, Rachel,’ she had said, her mouth a hard line, ‘to choose the most inconvenient moment for this. I was practically dead yesterday. Your father went out and left me. This was the last thing I needed.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Rachel had mumbled, ashamed. ‘Are you feeling better today?’
‘Yes. And I’m going to get out of here for a few hours. I’m beginning to feel institutionalised. Give yourself a good wash night and morning, warm water, soap, rinse and dry yourself properly, but don’t make a mess of the towels.’
‘Alright. Yes, Grandma told me.’
‘Now look, here’s what you do with this. See? And then wash your hands. But they’re expensive. Don’t go wasting them; you don’t need to be changing every verse end.’
‘No. OK.’
‘Have you got tummy ache?’
‘Yes, a bit.’
‘Mmm. Well, you can have a couple of paracetamols but really Rachel the fact is that we all just have to get on with it. You’re not ill. It’s normal and most women just soldier on. Heaven knows if I surrendered to every ache and pain I’d be permanently bed-ridden!’
‘Is everyone going out?’ Rachel pulled her pyjamas back on.
‘I have no idea. Nearly everyone, I should think. But you’ll be alright, won’t you?’
‘Oh yes. Dad said I could take my quilt downstairs.’
‘Mmm. Well. I suppose you can. It is cold today. But don’t get in anyone’s way. People haven’t got time to be running around after you.’
‘No. I know. You have a nice time.’
‘Yes, I’ll try.’ Ruth regarded the pyjamas critically before saying, ‘Those are quite nice, very practical. You needed some new ones. I’m sorry, I should have thought to buy you some.’ She gave Rachel a brief hug and they smiled at each other, feebly.
Now Rachel settled herself down with Bridget Jones. She was aware of voices in one of the back rooms but avoided them. Whoever remained in the house Rachel didn’t want to be accused of getting in their way. She would be quite happy here with her quilt and her book and she rather hoped she would be left entirely alone.
✽✽✽
‘You needn’t think I’m staying in all day. You can take us all out to lunch, Leslie. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Mother?’ June was furious. By the time she had got down to breakfast everything had been decided. She had been entirely out-manoeuvred, stranded and left holding the most cumbersome of babies. They were in the drawing room. Les had lit the fire but the wood was damp and it was smoking badly.
‘Stuff lunch!’ Granny spat. ‘You said you’d take me to Turkey and I’m still waiting!’ She was knitting something that looked like a string vest.
Les, June and Robert all ignored her. ‘We’ll see,’ Les said evasively. ‘We have to wait in for the shopping.’
‘I want to go shopping. Woolworths. Mrs Pellin’s green grocers. I need some new suspenders.’
‘That lad of theirs can see to it,’ cried June. ‘I see he’s been left behind and that girl. Wouldn’t you just know it? All the weak-minded invalids have been left to our care. But it’s only a matter of signing a receipt. Surely they’re up that that between them?’
‘It’ll all need putting away. She isn’t well.’
‘Stuff and nonsense. Silly indulgence. It isn’t rocket science Leslie.’
‘Where’s Mary gone?’ Robert asked timorously. ‘We usually have the television on. Can we have the television on? I like Cash in the Attic.’
‘There isn’t one in here Robert,’ June snapped. ‘Mary’s out. She’s gone out. They all have,’ June folded her arms crossly. ‘But we can go out as well, if we want,’ her voice switched from sulk to silk, ‘a nice pub lunch. You’d like that, Robert, wouldn’t you? A nice steak? A pint of bitter?’
‘I don’t know. What does Mary think?’
June sighed. ‘Quite plainly she thinks she can dump on me from a great height. Well, we’ll see about that.’
‘Don’t you blame Mary! This is your mess, fair and square.’ Les turned the page of his newspaper. ‘City are playing Spurs on Tuesday. Should be an interesting match,’ he commented to no one in particular.
‘I don’t think I could manage turkey after all. I haven’t got my teeth in. Fish, maybe. They taste funny. And my bottom stings.’ Granny wriggled petulantly in her seat in a way that was not very lady-like.
‘Mother! Please!’ June snapped. She got up from her seat and approached the fire. ‘Oh
really Leslie. Can’t you do something with this fire? This is intolerable.’
Roger, on the hearth rug, curled his lip, revealing yellow teeth and black gums.
Les did not lower his paper. ‘Anyway, there’s the dog. I told Muriel I’d look after him.’
‘It would be just like you to put her and that smelly old cur of hers before your own wife! I’m sure he’s dangerous. We ought to lock him away.’
‘Don’t lock me away!’ Robert said tremulously. He looked like he might cry.
‘I need the toilet,’ Granny announced. ‘I think it might be too late. I told you I’d need one of those pads.’
‘Oh for God’s sake!’
✽✽✽
‘Uncle Jude? I was going to ask you...’ Jude was helping Ben put on his life-jacket. Jude was squatting in front of him, one knee on the ground, a cigarette dangling from his bottom lip.
‘Mmm?’
‘What’s it like, you know, being famous?’
Jude’s arrival at the outdoor pursuits centre had caused something of a stir. The receptionist had done a classic double-take as they had entered the foyer. A pack of scouts had hardly been able to contain their excitement as the news that Jude Dewar, the actual Jude Dewar, was here, at the centre. The instructor assigned to their little party had struggled to behave as normal, giving them their safety instructions, talking them through the equipment, demonstrating correct paddle-handling, but he was plainly thrilled to have been given their group. Two women had asked for Jude’s autograph. One of them said she had every WillyNilly album and had been to see them perform fourteen times in her younger days. ‘I’m absolutely your biggest fan,’ she had giggled.
‘Well,’ Jude zipped up Ben’s jacket and snapped the clips into place. ‘It’s hard to say. Famous is only on the outside, you know.’ He stood up. ‘There, that’s you done. Will you help me with mine now?’
‘Yes.’ Ben gave serious attention to Jude’s jacket zip. ‘I was wondering... can I play you my Mazurka later? And will you show me how to write music?’
‘Sure. We can write something together, if you like. I’ve had a few bars in my brain cell for a day or two, now.’ He peeled the damp cigarette from his lip. ‘It goes like this.’ He whistled, quietly.
Relative Strangers Page 33