by Jenni Keer
Thinking of women offering Theo sexual services, she said, ‘I’m pleased Ella has started to come out of herself now – largely due to you. I realise now I was too pushy, whereas you had her back the whole time.’
‘I agree, it’s wonderful to see her blossom. I like spending time with her. Plus, she doesn’t try to tidy up my house when she comes round …’
Looking at him across the table, her internal organs still merrily tumble-drying away, there was a poignant pause. Eyes locked, she prepared herself to say something. She wanted to make a comment about how great he looked. It wasn’t exactly top-level flirting but it was a testing dip of the toe in the potentially romantic waters in case the thing with Ella didn’t last. She wasn’t trying to seduce him, just let him know that she found him attractive should he ever come back on the market.
As this flitted around in her conflicted mind, her phone started to ring and shattered her thoughts into a starburst of unspent sexual frustration. It was doubtless her mum updating her on the night out with Dad. She could do without more misguided gushing because she knew her mother had purchased new underwear – the relationship was no longer platonic. Besides, she wanted to give Theo her undivided attention so she ignored it. The teenage yearnings of the middle-aged could wait.
Her courage silently slipped away from the table and didn’t even nod as it left. She knew these growing romantic feelings for Theo were wrong. A relationship with the boss turning sour would be an opportunity for another life-altering double whammy. She needed to pull back now before everything went down the Gareth route – not that Theo was anything like her ex.
An hour later, as they left the soft glow of the courtyard and walked back towards Theo’s car, the tension returned. She looked across at her springy-haired friend, striding into the night and towards the car park. His jaw was resolute and his eyes serious. They stood in front of his battered car and he paused.
‘Maisie?’ he said. ‘I know we said earlier that I should apply the brakes …’
Theo took a step towards her under the street light. The gentle hum of the town traffic filled her ears, and the sweet smell of a late honeysuckle blooming in a nearby tiny edge-of-town garden drifted past. She’d had such a lovely evening and didn’t want to spoil it by handing out further relationship advice to someone when the devil on her shoulder was ready to sabotage the whole damn thing for her own devious ends.
‘Please stop,’ she said. ‘I don’t want—’
‘Maisie!’ A raucous shout cut through her words and Theo immediately took a step back, his shoulders slumping and his eyes dropping. A rumble of footsteps approached. ‘You little minx. What are you doing in Bury? If you’d said, we could have rendezvoused.’
Oliver bounded over, a small crowd of suited men lagging back. He threw a brotherly arm about her bare shoulders and ruffled her long fair waves. If she’d had short hair he might have got away with it, but his vigorous rub gave her a windswept tramp look and she had to sweep the straggly bits from her eyes.
Feeling patronised, she glared at him. ‘Oliver, this is Theo – my boss from the auction house?’
Oliver stuck out his hand and Theo gave a quick sigh and the fakest smile Maisie had ever seen him give. Theo was nothing if not genuine.
‘All right, mate?’ Theo said, and they shook hands.
‘I won’t stop you. I’m out with friends making up for lost time.’
‘Don’t overdo it,’ Maisie warned. ‘You know it doesn’t take much to get you tipsy.’ He was so far removed from the blokey drinking culture he’d need a satnav to find it. One glass of Merlot and Zoe said he was anybody’s.
‘Ha, yeah, I’ll take it steady. And whilst I remember, you left some girlie pink cardie at mine the other week.’ Ah, she’d been missing it and had forgotten she’d worn it to see Oliver on his birthday.
‘It’s not important. Give it to me when I see you next.’
‘Okay,’ Oliver said. ‘Say hi to the wonderful Bev from me and I’ll catch you soon. Better go. We’re hitting a few pubs around town so I’m hoping the house reds are up to par …’ And with that, he disappeared as abruptly as he’d arrived.
‘My mum absolutely adores Olly,’ she explained, as she turned back to Theo. ‘The very first time she met him she had him marked up as suitable son-in-law material. He had her wrapped around his big, manly fingers from the off.’ There was a pause as their unfinished conversation hung in the air. ‘Are we done? Shall we go home?’
‘Yeah, we’re done,’ huffed Theo. His mood became darker and he was quiet for the entire journey home. And because she didn’t feel like talking any more either, that suited her just fine.
‘What time do you call this – you dirty stop-out?’ Lisa asked, lounging across the sofa with a glass of sparkly white in her hand.
Maisie slumped into the nearest armchair, not even bothering to move Lisa’s scrunched-up laundry to the side. She was too tired to answer. And anyway, she assumed it was a rhetorical question.
Lisa tried again. ‘You’ll never guess where I’ve been?’ So Maisie, still feeling flat, didn’t try. ‘I’ve spent the day at Willow Tree House. That Irene’s a character but, bloody hell, the stories she can tell. She partied with some big names in the Sixties. Not sure about the boyfriend though. He kept winking at me. Didn’t help that I was staring at his face the whole time, but then, where do you look?’
Maisie shuffled up the seat. ‘I told you they were a great bunch. I enjoy volunteering and I know Mum appreciates extra visitors.’
‘Yeah, it was more fun than I expected. So, did you get laid tonight, Mrs Neatly-Pressed-Knickers?’ Lisa returned to one of her favourite subjects; Maisie’s lack of love life. Her other hot topic was herself and it seemed that had been dealt with satisfactorily for the time being.
‘Actually, I’ve had an amazing day,’ and she told her sister about acquiring the last of Verity’s set.
‘Whoopie-do. Perhaps you can stop rabbiting on about the damn thing now.’ Lisa drained her glass and reached for the bottle. ‘This’ll cheer you up; I’m heading back to York after your family thing. Time to face up to some things. Irene was a big help, actually. Old people know some surprising stuff.’
‘I’ll miss you,’ Maisie said, because she genuinely would. ‘And if the meal is a success, perhaps you’ll consider coming back for Christmas? I know it seems a long way off but I’d like to sort something. It will be fun. We can play games and have a good giggle. Just like old times.’
‘Maybe,’ said Lisa, clearly not over-keen to commit.
‘Great. It’s a shame Ben can’t make the meal. I’d linked it all to Meredith’s teapot in my head – as if reuniting the set would bring us back together, but nothing happened when I got Joanie’s pieces, and now I have Cynthia’s plates and we’re still scattered …’
Lisa frowned. ‘You mean he didn’t get you?’
‘Who?’
‘Ben. He rang this afternoon and I suggested he tried your mobile. Mum pulled out all the emotional stops and all but threatened to hire an assassin apparently, so he’s flying back for the weekend of your blasted meal.’
Chapter 44
Finding herself in Essie’s neighbourhood the following Saturday, Maisie stopped by to let her know that against all odds she’d gathered Verity’s set together and to thank her for her help.
‘Such wonderful news – I know Gamma would be pleased. I was going to contact you soon to say I’d been digging through our family tree but there was no Verity – not that I could uncover anyway.’
‘Don’t worry, I don’t expect to solve that mystery. The important thing is it’s reunited. It was quite a moment when I assembled it on my tiny kitchen table. Please come over and use it with me soon. I don’t want it to spend its life on a shelf.’
‘I’d love to. I would ask you in but I’m just in the middle of icing a birthday cake and it needs to set before my guests arrive.’
‘Ooh, someone’s birthday?’
/> ‘Mine, actually. A few friends and family are coming over shortly. Can’t believe I’ll be seventy.’
‘Seventy is hardly old,’ Maisie assured her. ‘Many congratulations.’
‘Thank you, my dear. And do wish Arthur the same when you see him. He’s still not been in contact but I guess he’s busy.’ She shrugged her slender shoulders. ‘Fancy still working at his age. You’d think he’d be content to put his feet up and watch the world go by.’
‘It’s Arthur’s birthday?’ An uncomfortable feeling flooded her body. Why hadn’t he mentioned it when they’d visited him that day with the flowers for Pam? Or said something at work? Maisie felt she’d let him down enough by not realising he was a widower and now she hadn’t even acknowledged his birthday. Theo should have told her.
‘Tomorrow – the day after mine. That’s the only reason I remember. We used to joke about it growing up, how we were practically twins like Irene and Joanie. It’s the big one for him as well. Can’t think of him as a man of seventy. He’ll always be in his twenties to me, but then I haven’t seen him properly for such a long time. We sort of lost touch after I got married. You know how it is.’
‘Perhaps you should be the one to break the ice? I think he feels equally awkward getting back in contact after all this time. The number seven bus stops at the end of his road,’ she added, helpfully.
‘Oh no, I wouldn’t want to turn up without giving Pam notice.’
Maisie was once again shocked how the death of Arthur’s wife had gone unnoticed by so many people. Tattlesham was hardly a throbbing metropolis of nameless thousands.
‘Didn’t you know? He lost her twenty years ago.’
‘Twenty years? How sad. And he never remarried?’
Maisie shook her head.
‘The job makes sense now. Never was any good with his own company, even as a young man. Said it gave him too much time to dwell on things. He didn’t have a nice childhood but then things were different in them days. You could whack your kids and get away with it. Always put on a brave face though.’
Not able to make any comment about Arthur’s dreadful childhood without the possibility of unleashing emotion, Maisie summoned up a smile.
‘I’ll let you get on with your icing,’ she said. ‘Have a wonderful day.’ The tragedy of Arthur’s life just got worse and worse.
‘Thank you. Both my sisters are coming – if you can believe that? Someone from Willow Tree is kindly dropping Irene off – oxygen tanks and all. Don’t think they’ve been together in a room for thirty years. Strange to see them reconnecting out of the blue like this.’
Was it? Because to Maisie the explanation was black and white.
‘Happy birthday!’ Maisie sung, as Arthur pulled back his front door.
‘Well now, what a lovely surprise. Come in, come in,’ he pleaded and Maisie followed him into a disorderly living room that was in a bit of a time warp.
It was as if the house had stood still for a couple of decades and Maisie guessed that would coincide with Pamela’s death; lace antimacassars on the backs of chairs, a dado rail running around the living room with green stripy wallpaper above and mint green emulsion below. But more poignant was a half-finished cross-stitch embroidery on the side table and a pair of beige fluffy slippers paired together under the sideboard – dusty and unworn for decades.
As Maisie handed over her gift, she noticed a large framed photograph propped up next to the television. Pam – she presumed. A pale, freckle-faced lady with a long nose, offset by two charming dimples either side of a wide smile. She looked friendly and fun.
‘It’s terribly kind of you to come out this way to see me.’ He took the proffered parcel – a little something she’d picked up after speaking to Esther the previous day. ‘How did you know? I don’t advertise my birthday. Look, Pam,’ he said, turning to the photograph. ‘Young Maisie has brought me a gift. Isn’t that thoughtful? After all, we’re only work colleagues and I’m nothing to her outside of the auction house.’ His eyes were watery and his voice cracked slightly as he spoke to his long-departed wife.
Maisie felt a lump rise in her chest. This dear old man, who was so keen to make friends he sometimes overwhelmed people, had been living alone all this time, unable to let his wife go and, looking around at the clutter, struggling to manage. Arthur followed her eyes.
‘Don’t look sad, love. These things happen. And I don’t mind so much as I used to. It was hard at first. I didn’t even know how to work the washing machine – her domain, see? And I’m not rightly sure I’m properly on top of everything even now. We had separate roles but I expect that’s old-fashioned nowadays. She did all the home-making and I did the garden, and the fixing and mending.’ He cast his eyes around the room, looking at things as if through Maisie’s eyes. ‘I know them curtains are shabby but the truth is, even if I bought new, I wouldn’t rightly know how to hang them …’
‘Oh, Arthur. I can always help with anything like that. All you have to do is ask.’ She gave him an encouraging smile, determined he shouldn’t feel maudlin on his birthday. ‘Come on, open your present.’
His bony fingers tugged at the pretty paper to reveal a book of British wild flowers, the primroses on the cover had caught her eye, and a small box of chocolates.
‘How thoughtful, although I’m not sure I want to be thinking about turning seventy. Everything is slowing down, wearing out and dropping off. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be useful at Gildersleeve’s.’
‘Nonsense. You’re in the prime of your life and a valued member of staff – we’d be foolish to part with our Twitter megastar.’
The old man’s eyes began to look suspiciously watery again so she moved the conversation on. ‘I won’t hold you up on your special day. I expect you’ve got things planned?’
‘Not exactly. Although I’ve got a smashing piece of fish for my supper, and there’s some good things on the telly later …’
‘Arthur, please don’t tell me you’re spending your birthday alone?’
He looked abashed and started to mumble about people with busy lives and not having the time to sit around with a silly old bugger on such a glorious day, so Maisie decided to take things into her own hands.
‘Are you about this afternoon?’ she asked.
‘Well, yes, I’ve got lots to catch up on; there’s several episodes of Gardeners’ World on iPlayer and I told Theo I’d have a go at mending the dodgy wheel on one of the sack barrows. He asked if I could have it done for Monday, so plenty to keep me busy. In fact I’ll be so rushed off my feet, I won’t have time to feel sorry for myself.’
He was a proud man, and she understood he didn’t want sympathy, but a bit of gentle intervention wouldn’t do any harm. She could nip to Theo’s and see if he was free to help make Arthur’s day a bit more special.
‘If you’re happy to dig out some cups and plates, and you don’t mind me inviting myself, I think we should have a little celebratory afternoon tea. I’ll be back in an hour.’ After I’ve reprimanded Theo for keeping me in the dark, she thought.
‘Fancy giving Arthur a sack barrow to mend on his birthday weekend,’ Maisie said, hands on hips, to a dishevelled Theo, as he opened his door.
‘It’s his birthday?’ He sounded genuinely surprised.
‘Seventy today.’
‘I had no idea.’ He tugged at his faded Rolling Stones T-shirt, and she noticed for the first time that he was in boxer shorts. Her cheeks grew warmer and she focused intently on the Jagger lips logo to avoid her eyes dropping to his bare legs.
‘How can you have known him all this time and not know when his birthday is?’
‘He never said.’ Theo sounded defensive. ‘And if you knew, why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I only found out yesterday,’ she said. ‘I bumped into Essie again and it came up in conversation. I’ve just dropped him off a present but it would appear he’s spending the day alone.’
‘Then we need to remedy that. No on
e should be alone for their birthday, least of all a lovely old fella like Arthur.’ Maisie’s heart lifted. She loved that Theo was on the same page. Laid-back and underdressed he might be, but he was also incredibly thoughtful and compassionate.
‘Actually …’ Her thoughts turned to Essie and despite learning the salutary lesson from Jane Austen that interfering in other people’s love lives never ended well, she toyed with an idea. ‘I might rope Essie in. He keeps talking about going over to see her but still hasn’t made it. I could call by on my way to the supermarket for party supplies. It’s about time the two childhood friends were reunited.’
‘I’ll throw on some jeans and join you,’ he said, and she felt relieved that he wasn’t quite laid-back enough to hit Tesco in underwear.
Ten minutes later, she was wandering around the supermarket with Theo, tossing assorted cakes, sausage rolls and even pre-made sandwiches, into the trolley. As much as she’d enjoy rustling up some home-made goodies, there simply wasn’t time. Especially as a frantic phone call meant they were now collecting Essie in half an hour.
‘As I live and breathe – Essie Mayhew.’
Arthur could hardly get her name out, he was so overcome with emotion. Perhaps Maisie had been mean not warning him she was bringing a former sweetheart into his home, especially as she suspected he’d spent the last few years ducking into doorways and behind postboxes to avoid her. Because the more she thought about it, the more she decided the excuses he gave for not calling had been his way of putting off a reunion that was too scary. After all, halcyon memories have a way of disappointing when confronted in later life.
‘Happy birthday, Arthur, you old devil. It’s been a while.’ The pair locked eyes and seemed to have a whole conversation telepathically.
Maisie knew, for that brief moment, that she and Theo were totally superfluous to the proceedings. Two pairs of wrinkled hands reached out to each other, both slightly trembling as they gripped fingers. They bent forward to exchange a tentative kiss and then Essie rallied.