Lola's Secret (23 page)

“Lola, it was so easy. I couldn’t believe it. It was almost a disappointment. Once I got going, it only took me a few hours. Everything’s easy these days. All the newspapers are online, service clubs have websites, even people your age have Facebook pages.”

Lola had heard about Facebook in some detail from Ellen. She’d listened attentively enough but had frankly been none the wiser afterward. All she knew was that it was a very modern way of keeping in touch, and it sounded very complicated. “Alex is on Facebook?”

“No. That was just an example. I found him through his local Italian-Australian Association. It took a bit of digging—his is a pretty common name—but I came across two photos, one from five years ago, the other a year ago, and I would have sworn it was him. But I didn’t want to show you unless I knew for sure. So I rang the association. And they gave me a number for him.” Luke was smiling, so proud of all he had achieved.

Lola, however, was horrified. “You spoke to him? You spoke to Alex himself?”

“Not to him. His daughter. He lives with her.”

“His daughter?” Why was her heart beating faster? Why did she suddenly feel a mixture of nerves and excitement. “Not his wife? You’re sure it was his daughter?”

“I’m sure, Lola. He’s widowed. His wife died nearly fifteen years ago. His daughter told me everything, once I explained who I was and why I was calling.”

“Who did you say you were?”

“I lied a bit. I’m sorry, Lola. I got caught off guard a bit.”

“Luke, what did you say?”

“I said I was your grandson.” He hurriedly continued. “I said that you had gone into a nursing home and had started to go a bit funny in the head and go down memory lane, and you kept talking about this Alex as if he was really important to you, and how you’d met years ago and there was something you wanted to say to him before you died, and that I’d promised you I’d do whatever I could to find him …” Luke trailed off. “I’m really sorry, Lola. I got a bit carried away.”

Lola was doing her best to stay calm. “Can I please get this straight? You told Alex I’d gone funny in my head and was in a nursing home?”

“Not Alex, his daughter. She was very nice, but she did say she hadn’t ever heard of you.”

Why did that hurt Lola, even a tiny bit?

“But she verified all the other facts you’d told me. That her father had lived in Melbourne in the 1950s and ‘60s. That he’d gone back to Italy, for about thirty years. She also told me that she’d been born there, and that he’d moved back here about ten years ago, after his wife died. He lived on his own for a bit, but for the past four years he hasn’t been well, so he’s been living with her and her family. In Moonee Ponds.”

“He’s an invalid?”

“Not from what she said. I asked if it was possible to speak to him and she said he was out playing bridge, or maybe it was bowls, but if I left my number she’d ask him to call me. So he must be fairly fit if he can do that. I mean, I know bowls isn’t exactly windsurfing and bridge isn’t bungee jumping, but—”

“I get your point, Luke. Has he rung you back?”

“No, not yet. But I left your number as well as mine. And he’d ring you, not me, wouldn’t he? Once he got the message from his daughter?”

Lola suddenly dropped her phone on the floor. Luke laughed. “Lola, isn’t that what you wanted? Me to track him down so you could talk to him?”

“No. Yes. I just—”

“Didn’t think I’d be able to find him this quickly? Lola Quinlan, you’re talking to a computer whiz kid here. Anyone else you need tracked down? Shergar?”

“The kidnapped Irish racehorse? How do you know about him?”

“Wikipedia,” Luke said.

“Luke, thank you so much. And this might sound silly, I know, but can I please ask you to—”

“Keep all of this to myself too? Of course, Lola. My lips are sealed.”

Lola’s phone rang. They both stared down at it on the floor.

“Lola, answer it!”

She seemed to be frozen on the spot.

Luke picked it up and read the display. “It’s Bett.”

Lola took it and answered. “Bett, I can’t talk now. I’ll call you back. Sorry. Bye.”

Luke bit back a smile. “I’d better go. I’ll leave you to it. Good night, Lola. Good luck. Happy talking.”

“Thank you, Luke. For everything.”

It was only after he’d driven off that she realized she still hadn’t asked him about Emily.

T
HAT NIGHT
she didn’t move more than three meters from her phone at any stage. She took it with her into dinner, despite her own rule about no mobile phones at the table. She carried it as she sat on the park bench talking to Jim after dinner, reassuring him once again that she was happy to stay in Clare, that it had been her own free will and choice and that he wasn’t to give her a second’s thought. She retired to her room earlier than usual, ostensibly to watch the news. What she did was watch her phone. It still didn’t ring.

She rang Luke from the bedside phone. Yes, he assured her. He’d given Alex’s daughter the right number. Yes, her mobile phone number would work from Melbourne. Yes, he had been clear that Lola was an old friend, and yes, Alex’s daughter had sounded like she was sober and reliable and knew how to take down phone numbers.

“I could always give you his number,” Luke said. “You could ring him.”

Lola hit her palm against her forehead. How could she have been so stupid? “Yes please, Luke.” Her hand was trembling as she wrote down the number.

For the next fifteen minutes she stared at the row of figures. She stared at her phone. The number. The phone. What had happened to her? Where had the “Act and act now” impulse gone, now that she really needed it? Why didn’t she just ring him? What was she afraid of?

She knew. She was afraid that he wouldn’t want to talk to her.

This was ridiculous. She was an old, old woman, behaving like a silly, silly teenager. She was worse than Emily, carrying a torch for Luke for all these years and yet not doing anything about it, waiting for the planets to align or the moonbeams to shine or something to happen to bring her dreams to life without any effort on her part. The real world wasn’t like that. Lola knew that better than anyone. If you wanted something to happen, you had to help make it happen.

She had Alex’s number. She could ring him this minute, rather than sit here waiting for him to ring her.

So why didn’t she?

The phone was still in her hand when she fell asleep that night.

She was woken by a call the next morning. “Alex?”

“Lola? It’s Bett. What did you call me? Ali?”

“I was saying hello. Hello, Bett.”

“You’re chirpy this morning. I thought you were going to ring me back last night?”

“Sorry, darling. I had an early night. I was tired. All those packages, you know—”

“Of course. I was just ringing to say thanks. And also to ask if I could come and talk to you about something. An idea I’ve had.”

“You’re not leaving Daniel again, are you?”

Bett laughed. “Not today, no. My marriage is back on steady ground, thanks to you. You and your friends, more to the point. That’s what I wanted to come and talk to you about. My neighbor’s babysitting the twins this morning. Can I be there in ten minutes?”

She’d hung up before Lola had a chance to say yes or no.

Lola couldn’t risk Alex ringing while Bett was there. It wasn’t a conversation she could have in front of another person, even a beloved granddaughter. So she turned the phone off, but not before checking her voicemail was working. Perhaps this might be better—he would ring, leave a message, and she’d be able to gauge from what he said and how he sounded how things might be between them.

As soon as Bett came in, she kissed her grandmother on the cheek and launched into the reason for her visit. “Lola, I want to say thanks and I also want to say sorry. I know you think Carrie and I should have behaved much better than this, but you helped us a lot, more than you realized. Everything has felt so much easier and clearer since you and your friends came to our houses.”

“I’m so glad, darling. So what have you decided to do?”

“I’m still going to try working one day a week next year. For sanity and to get me out of the house. But going part-time in January isn’t going to work for Daniel, we’ve both realized that. He’s spoken to his boss again and he’s going to stay full-time.”

“So what will you do with the babies when you’re both at work? Bring them into the office with you?”

“Our bosses are relaxed, but not that relaxed. Lola, is it true there’s been a rush of new volunteers for the charity shop since you launched the Christmas care package appeal?”

“Dozens, yes.”

“Do you and Patricia and Kay and Margaret feel it’s time to move on, in terms of your charitable deeds?”

Lola’s lips twitched. “Go on.”

Bett gave her a sheepish smile. “Lola, I’ve told all my friends about that day in my house. Carrie’s told all her friends too. You saved our lives. If we go to the cupboard, there are clean clothes. To the freezer, there’s dinner. It’s nice to look out at our gardens, not guilt-inducing.”

“I’m so glad,” Lola said, smiling. She knew exactly where this was headed.

“Did you all enjoy it too?”

Lola thought about it before she answered. Yes, they had. It was more fun than being in the charity shop together. More relaxed. There hadn’t been the bother of any customers to serve, for starters. And there was something so satisfying about putting someone else’s messy house to rights. Much more satisfying than doing one’s own housework, they’d all agreed. “It was great fun,” she told Bett. “And your children are delightful company.”

“Lola, I know you know what I’m going to say. You haven’t stopped giving me that smile you give when you know what I’m up to. But here’s our proposition anyway. Come the new year, if you’re all keen, we want to hire the five of you. It wouldn’t be enough, I know, but I’d pay you whatever I’d earn in a day’s work at the paper. Cover all your costs and give you whatever was left over, too. It would be worth every cent of it, to come home and you’d have all been there and worked your magic. Carrie would pay you too, more than me, probably. Other friends of mine said they’d sell their wedding rings to pay for your services.”

“Let me get this straight. From January, you and Carrie—”

“Us for starters, but there’s a long waiting list of others too, if you were all up to it—”

“—want five elderly women to come to your houses once a week—”

“Or once a fortnight. Or once a month. Once a
year
if that’s all you can manage.”

“And mind your babies, fill your freezers, clean and garden, and the rest of it. For a token sum.”

Bett nodded. “I know you can’t speak for the others, but in principle, do you think they might be even a bit interested?”

Lola already knew what her friends’ answers would be. The days were sometimes very long for everyone now that they were all retired and living alone. As for being paid, of course they wouldn’t expect that. Lola herself would secretly cover the cost of ingredients, garden plants, and cleaning products. Any money the girls paid them could go straight into the charity shop fund.

“We’d have to call ourselves something, though,” Lola said. “Give it dignity, a formality …”

“You’d do it? You really think you all would?”

“If we found the right name, yes. I think perhaps we all would.”

Bett smiled. “What about the Merry Widows?”

“How cheery. Let me talk to the others, Bett. Not just about the name, about everything. I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

“I’m going to see Mum and Dad now. Will I come back after that?”

“Good heavens, you are keen.”

“Desperate, not keen. Thank you, Lola. Even if you say no.”

Lola not only had a positive answer for Bett when she came back. She had a name. Kay had coined it.

“We’d be some kind of crack team, is that what you mean? We’d come in, babysit, cook, clean, and conquer? Like some kind of, I don’t know, Baby Squad?”

Bett laughed out loud. “That’s it exactly. You’d be the Baby Squad.” She hugged her grandmother. “Thank you, Lola, so much. I don’t know how you do it, but you always make things better for me.”

Lola hugged her just as tightly. It was like having the old Bett back, happy, relaxed, with time to talk. Lola had missed their talks so much. She suddenly wanted to tell her everything, about Jim and Geraldine selling up, about her secret plans for Christmas, about Ellen’s visit. About finding Alex, most of all.

She patted the small armchair beside her. “Darling, come and sit here with me for a minute, would you? It feels like so long since you and I had one of our good old catch-ups.”

“It feels so long because it
has
been so long. I’d love that.” Bett had just sat down when her mobile rang. “Sorry, Lola. It’s my neighbor, Jane. I won’t be a second.” She answered the call. “Hi, Jane. Oh, no. No, that’s fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She was already standing before she finished the call. “Lola, I’m sorry. Yvette has fallen and cut her lip. It’s not serious but Jane can’t stop her crying and Zach is upset now too. I’d better get back. Was it anything important? Can I ring you later?”

Lola found the brightest smile she could. “It wasn’t important at all, darling. You head home, quick as you can.”

I
F SHE HAD BEEN
a paranoid kind of woman, Lola thought the next day, she would be starting to think the planets were conspiring against her. Alex not ringing. Bett not being able to stay to talk. And now her entire Christmas plans falling like dominoes, one after the other. It had started with two emails, waiting there for her when she logged on to her laptop computer first thing after breakfast.

Dear Ms. Quinlan,

Re: Christmas booking

We regret to inform you that we are no longer able to take up your wonderfully generous offer for a free three-night stay in the Valley View Motel. My husband and I have had the great surprise of our two (overseas-based) children announcing they’re flying home to spend Christmas with us. So we’re staying put and I must confess, so happy to be doing so! We wish you the very best for the festive season and hope to come and stay with you in the Valley View Motel one time soon. It sounds like a wonderful place.