Second Thyme Around (11 page)
Perdita hesitated for a second. ‘Lucas came and fetched me.’
Kitty frowned. ‘Oh, my goodness. Why?’
Had Kitty really forgotten that she’d given Lucas’s name as a contact? Perhaps she’d lost a bit of her memory. ‘Because you – because he heard you were ill, and I hadn’t left a telephone number.’
‘Oh dear. I know I suggested they asked him how to get in touch with you, but I never dreamt he’d go all that way to fetch you. I hope it wasn’t awkward for you.’
Relief that Kitty’s memory was as sound as ever made Perdita lie gaily. ‘Not at all. He was very kind. He’s being given turkey sandwiches in the kitchen. He drives extremely fast.’
‘Since he got you here safely, I won’t grumble about that. They say I might have to give up my pipe.’ Kitty frowned. ‘I don’t think it’s worth it, at my age.’
‘Oh, Kitty,’ Perdita said helplessly. She wanted to order her old friend to give up her pipe, and do anything else which might prolong her life, but was it fair? ‘We’ll talk about that another time.’
‘We’ve spoken to Kitty’s doctor,’ said Mrs Ledham-Gold. ‘He wants to see her the minute she gets back home, and she’s not to go home unless there’s someone there.’
‘I’ll be there.’
‘I thought you would be, though of course Kitty grumbled like anything …’ Kitty made a sound confirming this. ‘And he also wants to see you, to discuss Kitty’s aftercare.’
‘I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself!’ Kitty’s firm assertion cheered Perdita, although she knew there would be lively arguments ahead.
‘Now, my dear, would you like to stay the night? You must be tired after all that travelling?’ Mrs Ledham-Gold was very solicitous. ‘There’s the little back bedroom free, though it’s only got a three-quarter-size bed in it …’
‘It’s so kind of you to offer, Mrs—’
‘Call me Veronica, dear.’
‘—but I’m sure Lucas will want to get back. He has to work in the morning.’
Perdita eventually kissed Kitty good night, promising to collect her in a few days. She then spent a long time thanking the Ledham-Golds and Veronica’s sister, who had spent a thoroughly enjoyable time with Lucas in the kitchen. Lucas had obviously decided to rustle up a little charm in the same way he might have rustled up a gourmet snack out of the contents of his fridge.
‘You’ve looked after Kitty so well. I am so grateful to you.’
‘She really needs someone living in, in case it happens again,’ said Veronica. ‘Has she got any relations who might oblige?’
‘I’m all she’s got and we’re not related, but I’ll live with Kitty.’
‘But, my dear, haven’t you got other commitments?’ She glanced at Lucas.
‘Only my business and I can run that just as well from Kitty’s house as mine. We live very close.’
‘Well, that is a weight off my mind, I must say. Because although it’s perfectly possible to recover totally from a TIA there is always the danger of another one occurring. Or even a major stroke.’ She smiled at Perdita’s surprise at her technical knowledge. ‘It’s quite a common thing among people of our generation.’
Perdita kissed her firmly on the cheek. ‘You’ve been wonderful.’
‘Not at all. Kitty’s very lucky to have a lovely girl like you to keep an eye on her.’
Lucas coughed in the background, obviously itching to leave. ‘And I’m very lucky to have a friend like Lucas to fetch me,’ said Perdita.
‘Friend? Oh, I thought you were married.’ Veronica sounded disappointed.
‘That was years ago,’ growled Lucas. ‘Now, I don’t want to hurry you, but could we please get on?’
‘What time do you have to be at work in the morning?’ They were in the village now, and Perdita tried not to sound as guilty as she felt.
‘Eleven.’
‘But if you’ve got people staying at the hotel, who cooks their breakfasts?’
‘We’ve taken on a breakfast chef who supervises Greg and Janey doing the prep. And if they don’t know how I like things done by now they can look elsewhere for a job.’
‘That’s terrible! Talking like that, when Janey had you for Christmas!’
‘Janey did not “have” me for Christmas. Much as she might have liked to. But actually, Janey is shaping up very well.’
‘I hope you tell her so. People do far better on praise than on criticism, you know.’
Lucas thought this highly amusing. ‘That’s not how things work in restaurant kitchens.’
‘There’s no earthly reason why they shouldn’t.’
‘I dare say. Now,’ he slowed the car and drew up outside Perdita’s house, ‘do you want me to stay for what’s left of the night, or will you be all right?’ He pulled on the handbrake. ‘I’m not inviting myself into your bed, Perdita, just offering to stay with you if you feel you need company.’
Perdita was shocked, mostly because she did need company, and the thought of sharing her bed with Lucas was far from unpleasant. ‘No, no, I’ll be fine. I’m perfectly used to living on my own, you know,’ she added sharply.
‘I hope you’ll get just as used to living with Kitty, because someone’s going to have to. If not now, sometime in the future.’
‘Of course.’
‘It will cramp your style a bit, won’t it? If you’re going to find yourself a lover?’
‘You don’t know Kitty very well if you think that.’
She opened the car door and clambered out. He got out his side and went round to the boot.
‘You take the odd carrier bags, I’ll take this,’ he said. He waited while she found her key, and then followed her indoors. The house was very cold and smelt of wood ash. ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own?’
‘Oh yes. I’ll have a hot-water bottle and some hot milk with brandy in it, and I’ll be asleep in minutes.’ He studied her carefully, obviously not convinced. ‘Really, Lucas. I’ll be fine.’
‘Very well,’ he said eventually. ‘I’ll take your word for it. Not because I believe you, but because I don’t think you want me to stay.’
‘No, really, really, I’ll be fine.’ And she did want him to stay, though she’d die before she’d admit it.
‘I’ll be off then.’
Perdita put down her carrier bags. ‘I really can’t thank you enough, Lucas …’
‘And please don’t thank me any more, or I’ll die of boredom. Give me a hug instead.’
It wasn’t hard to go to him and put her arms round his tall figure, made bulky by his overcoat. His arms round her were very strong, he held her very tightly for a very long time. She felt some of the stresses leach out of her body into the warmth of his. Eventually she dragged herself away.
He bent forward and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Good night, Perdita. I’ll be seeing you. And please, for everybody’s sake, get a mobile phone.’
She watched him get into his car as she stood at her window, before drawing her curtains. The hug, she knew, had been for her benefit, not for his. And it had helped.
It took Perdita ages to get to sleep that night. She had left her hot-water bottle in Shropshire and there hadn’t been any heat in the house for days, so she was very, very cold. And although she had long-life milk, she didn’t have enough brandy to do more than give it a very slight taste.
She wrapped her feet in a mohair shawl and eventually warmed up, but it was the knowledge that she was by no means indifferent to Lucas that made it so difficult to drift off. Of course, she wasn’t in love with him, she didn’t even have a crush, like poor Janey, but she had been grateful for his presence, and his arms around her had been more than
just comforting. They had felt right, as if no other arms would do.
just comforting. They had felt right, as if no other arms would do.
Which of course was rubbish. It was only because she hadn’t had a man for so long – she pushed the words ‘since Lucas’ firmly out of her thoughts – and because she had just been through a very worrying time, that she felt in need of companionship so badly. And although she did her best to avoid thinking about it, she was only too aware that although Kitty was better, she was very old, and would die, possibly quite soon.
She had always faced this, if not with equanimity, at least with acceptance. After all, there was nothing very much she could do about it. But having Lucas’s arms around her showed her how very comforting a companion – a male companion, who you could hug and be hugged by at will – could be.
But she would no more give her heart to Lucas to shred, like her returned cheque, than she would spray weedkiller on her salads. She had done it at eighteen, and the heart had taken a long time to piece together – too long for her to do it again at twenty-nine. Lucas had indeed been very kind to fetch her from Shropshire, but he was basically cruel. Only a true masochist would let him ever get close again.
No, she wanted someone who would always be kind. She’d have to sacrifice things like looks, sex-appeal and dynamism, of course, but it was gentle companionship she wanted, not the nausea-inducing free fall of passion. Definitely not.
As sleep approached her mind escaped the confines of sense and she wondered about Lucas’s provocative hints, his implication that he still wanted her. Why would he do that? Pure cruelty? Somehow, that no longer seemed so likely. Probably, she thought, a second before she slept, because he really wants Janey, knows he shouldn’t, and I’m an older version.
These thoughts came back to her in the morning, while she was brushing her teeth. She blushed in the mirror at her complete idiocy. Lucas didn’t want her or Janey, he just wanted three gold stars, or whatever it was, for his cooking. She chuckled, and then spat. Perhaps she should buy him a packet of them. They sold them in the post office.
Because Christmas fell at the weekend, the day after Boxing Day, when Perdita was foodless, hot-water bottle-less, and lonely, was a bank holiday. Fortunately her van got her to the nearest town, and after much searching of empty streets, she found an emergency chemist. She bought herself a new hot-water bottle, one with a furry cover, because it was Christmas, and she was alone.
Later she drove to Kitty’s house, let herself in, then stole a bottle of brandy and had a rummage through the fridge. This was not only to save her from having to eat the pulses she intended to sprout and sell, but so she could throw away some of the more ancient packets and pots inhabiting Kitty’s refrigerator. Kitty’s cleaning lady wasn’t allowed near it because of her justifiable objection to food so well past its sell-by date. Perdita was firmly on the side of the cleaning lady, but as Kitty had never had a stomach upset in her life, she wouldn’t listen to their mutterings about salmonella, ptomaine or any other fell disease, and Perdita had to do good by stealth, removing the more elderly foodstuffs when she had the opportunity.
Then she checked the house plants and saw that Kitty’s amaryllis was about to flower. She allowed herself a few seconds’ sadness that Kitty might not be home in time to see it, and then went from room to room, checking the seed trays on the windowsills, thinking how empty the house was, and yet still so full of Kitty. Would it feel like that when Kitty was dead, and not just away? For how long would the essence of a person be trapped in their
possessions? Kitty’s death was no longer something Perdita could just put out of her mind. She must face it.
possessions? Kitty’s death was no longer something Perdita could just put out of her mind. She must face it.
Worse than death, from Kitty’s point of view, was becoming an invalid, dependent on others. And the ultimate misery would be an old people’s home. Kitty had often told Perdita that if that fate seemed likely, Perdita was to obtain the necessary amount and type of drugs so Kitty could make her own arrangements. Perdita, knowing she could not possibly do this, usually changed the subject rapidly.
But there was another option. If Kitty were to become bedridden, there was nothing to stop her living at home. The drawing room would easily convert into an invalid’s bedsit. Perdita might not be able to help Kitty commit suicide, but she could move heaven and earth and a lot of furniture to make sure Kitty could be in her own house, with her own things, her garden just beyond the window.
Perdita felt the soil round some orange-scented geraniums and decided they needed water. While she filled a jug she noted, as she always did, the china holder for hard squares of lavatory paper which hung above the more conventional roll for soft paper. It had been there ever since Perdita had first come into the house, apparently because Kitty’s husband preferred it. Perdita always wondered whether in the unlikely event that the packet was ever emptied, it would be replaced. She must remember to ask Kitty when she got home, she thought, as she wrote her a note, telling her that her fridge and her drinks cupboard had been raided.
At home, Perdita lit her wood burner, waited until it could be safely left, and then went out to inspect her polythene tunnels. Once she was in the green-tinged, pungent atmosphere, life took on a more sensible perspective. Without Kitty, without a man, she still had her business, continually challenging, profitable (almost), infinitely
satisfying, and giving her a sense of fulfilment nothing else could provide. She glanced towards the pot in which she had buried the crosnes Lucas had given her to grow. She had found a book which told her how to grow it, and was waiting until March to plant it. Until then, it had to be kept safe, not allowed to rot or dry up. She decided not to spoil her improved mood by inspecting it. Mice were fond of crosnes, and a lot could go wrong, before she’d even planted it, and if it had, it would seem symbolic. Why spoil her quasi-contentment by bringing Lucas into her day?
satisfying, and giving her a sense of fulfilment nothing else could provide. She glanced towards the pot in which she had buried the crosnes Lucas had given her to grow. She had found a book which told her how to grow it, and was waiting until March to plant it. Until then, it had to be kept safe, not allowed to rot or dry up. She decided not to spoil her improved mood by inspecting it. Mice were fond of crosnes, and a lot could go wrong, before she’d even planted it, and if it had, it would seem symbolic. Why spoil her quasi-contentment by bringing Lucas into her day?
She picked a selection of salads to go with a baked potato and went back into the house to ring Janey. Telling Lucas she had lied about the boyfriend had been easy in the circumstances. With Kitty ill, a little sacrifice of pride seemed like nothing. But how could she explain it all to Janey? Janey knew that Lucas and Perdita had known each other many years before, but could that supposedly fleeting acquaintance reasonably be seen as a motive for such a lot of lying? It might have to.
Janey, extremely surprised to hear that Perdita was not still in Shropshire, was off duty unexpectedly, without plans, and more than willing to come and visit.
‘Tell me everything,’ she demanded, before the first glass of wine was even poured, let alone drunk. ‘Why did you come back so early? Did you have a row with your boyfriend? I want to know everything.’
‘You tell me about how you got on with Lucas first,’ said Perdita cravenly. ‘You know I’ve been worrying about it.’
‘There’s nothing to tell, really. He was very sweet to Mum and Dad, took over the carving because Dad had had one too many, but he didn’t do anything when we were alone, watching telly.’ Janey sighed with disappointment. ‘He didn’t even so much as put his arm round me, although that settee is small, and he had to rest his arm along the back of it.’ She took a determined slug of her wine. ‘But I’ll get him somehow. I’ll dazzle him with my
cooking, and one day he’ll look up and see what a jewel I am, and pounce.’
cooking, and one day he’ll look up and see what a jewel I am, and pounce.’
‘Ooh. Very romantic.’ Perdita was relieved. It didn’t look as if Lucas was likely to take Janey up on what she offered.
‘So? What about you then?’ Janey looked expectantly at Perdita, hopeful that she could come up with a more salacious tale.
Perdita decided to just tell the truth – everything except the closeness of her relationship with Lucas. ‘Well, to be honest with you, Janey, I haven’t got a boyfriend. The man who took me up to stay with my friend at Christmas was just her brother-in-law. I came back early because Kitty was ill.’ She blushed, although there was no reason why Janey should ask how Perdita got back.
‘Oh. I’m really sorry about Kitty, of course.’
‘She’s not that bad, really. She should be home quite soon.’
Relieved that she could get back to the subject really of interest to her, Janey went on, ‘But why did you – you know – pretend to have a boyfriend?’
‘Well, it’s terribly silly I know, but it’s because of Lucas. You know we knew each other, years and years ago?’
‘Yes?’
‘Well, he always made me feel sort of inferior. I didn’t want to seem on the shelf, or available or anything.’
‘Oh.’ Janey seemed more disappointed than shocked. ‘And I was so thrilled for you. But I do understand. Lucas is so blissful he’d make anyone feel inferior. Though I’m a bit surprised he had that effect on you.’
‘I’m sorry. It was sort of a fantasy, I suppose. You know, being whisked away to a glamorous location for Christmas, in a fast car.’
‘And was it glamorous, where you went?’
‘Not at all. It was very primitive. They’d only just moved in and nothing was unpacked, and it was freezing cold.’
‘No opportunities to dress up, then?’
‘Only in layers and layers of jumpers. Just as well I’d packed my thermal vest.’
‘Thermal vest!’ Janey was suddenly aware that Perdita was pushing thirty. ‘Oh,’ she sighed, ‘I sort of pine for the sort of Christmas you read about in magazines, where everyone dresses for dinner and don’t just put on their jumpers with reindeers on.’
Perdita chuckled. ‘That was the sort of Christmas Lucy wanted – a perfect magazine one. I think she was suffering from that “addiction-to-make-Christmas-perfect” thing, when everything has to be home-made and decorated beautifully. It’s a syndrome. I read about it. Poor old Lucy. It wasn’t at all like that, but I think she had a nice time in the end. Her kids did, anyway.’
‘Christmas is for children really.’ Janey sighed. ‘It’s not quite the same when everyone’s grown-up, is it?’ Her moment of nostalgia lasted about a second before she went back to Perdita’s love life, or lack of. ‘So, what was the brother-in-law like, then? Still married?’
‘Separated, but not fanciable, and too broken-hearted, even if he was.’
‘Oh.’ Janey drained her glass and helped them both to more wine. ‘We’re both a couple of silly cows – you for pretending you had a boyfriend, and me for having a crush on a man who’ll never want me.’ They clashed glasses. ‘Cheers!’
‘Cheers,’ agreed Perdita glumly. Then came another tricky moment for her. Did Janey and Greg know why Lucas left them so suddenly on Boxing Day? Would Lucas have said that he was going to get her home because Kitty was ill? Or could she depend on him having a ‘never apologise, never explain’ philosophy? ‘So did you have to work on Boxing Day or were you free then?’
‘Had to work, which is why I’m off now. It was rather good actually. Lucas had to go flying-off somewhere for
some reason, which left me and Greg in charge. Well, me, really. Everyone was very pleased with what I did.’
some reason, which left me and Greg in charge. Well, me, really. Everyone was very pleased with what I did.’
‘What, even Lucas?’ Perdita could smile now she knew Lucas had been discreet.
‘Well, no. He wasn’t there, was he? But when I went into work this morning, Robert – the new head waiter? – ’ Perdita nodded, ‘told him.’ Janey sighed ecstatically. ‘Well, Lucas looked down into my eyes, took hold of my chin, and sort of smiled. Oh God! I nearly wet myself. Then he said I could have today off because of having to take over yesterday. He can be really kind at times.’
Perdita, who knew this, took refuge in a gulp of wine. ‘Let’s go and see if the spuds are cooked. We need something solid like a baked potato to put our feet back on the ground. You especially.’
‘He’s just so gorgeous. I can’t help being in love with him. Even if he never looks at me.’
‘Come on, Janey!’ said Perdita, not confident that Lucas’s lack of interest in ‘half-fledged ducklings’ would last for ever. She led the way to the kitchen. ‘Lovely girl like you should have a real man, not a fantasy. Leave that to the old birds like me.’
‘You’re not old!’ Janey indignantly followed Perdita into the kitchen. ‘Just mature – I mean, you’re not even thirty yet, even if you do run a business and wear a thermal vest. And you’d be lovely if …’
Perdita turned round with a sigh. ‘Don’t tell me. If I did something about myself. Ronnie says something of the sort every time I see him.’
‘And do you listen?’ Janey’s bright eyes were optimistic.
‘Not very often. He’s surrounded by people who are obsessed with their appearance, who make their living by making people cover themselves in volcanic mud or whatever. Just because I don’t bother with things like that, he sees me as a potential victim.’
‘You don’t have to do the mud thing; but some of the
treatments are lovely, so my mum says. Dad bought her a weekend there once, as a present.’
treatments are lovely, so my mum says. Dad bought her a weekend there once, as a present.’
‘I’d hate it! I mean, I’d have to buy new underwear and everything. I can’t lie there and be tortured in mauvy-grey knickers which won’t stay up unless I’m wearing jeans.’
‘What do you mean? Shall I take the butter?’
Perdita nodded. ‘Oh, you know. Your underwear seems perfectly all right until the summer when you put on a skirt and don’t wear tights. Then you realise you can’t go anywhere in a hurry without your pants falling down.’ Janey, who had settled herself by the stove, was looking bemused. ‘Doesn’t it happen to you, then?’
Janey shook her head. ‘I buy new knickers every summer anyway.’
‘Oh. Well. Perhaps I should. But that’s one of the reasons I don’t want to be made over.’
‘I know!’ said Janey. ‘Promise that if this television thing comes off you’ll get done up? That’s fair enough, isn’t it? After all, if you’re going to be on television you might get fan mail, become a star. Especially if you don’t wear a bra.’
‘What?’
‘Oh, never mind. Just promise me you’ll have a makeover if you’re on telly.’
Perdita sighed. ‘OK. It’s a very long shot, why not?’
Perdita and Mrs Welford, Kitty’s favourite taxi driver, went up to collect Kitty from the Ledham-Golds. Perdita had already made up a bed for herself and was preparing to stay with Kitty until such time as the situation altered. It was only after Mrs Welford, having been given tea and teacakes, and discreetly paid was sent on her way that Kitty and Perdita had a row. It was, as usual, a ladylike row. No one shouted or hurled insults, both parties stated their separate cases with dignity, but Kitty flatly refused to let Perdita move back in with her.
‘You cannot give up your life to look after me,’ Kitty
said, after the battle had gone on for a while and she wanted a drink. ‘It’s not necessary and it would drive me mad, having you hovering round me all day looking to see if I was telling the truth when I said I was perfectly fine.’
said, after the battle had gone on for a while and she wanted a drink. ‘It’s not necessary and it would drive me mad, having you hovering round me all day looking to see if I was telling the truth when I said I was perfectly fine.’
Perdita, who did try and second-guess Kitty, was also tired. She wanted the best for Kitty, but was beginning to doubt that her own constant presence would help if Kitty was so against the idea. ‘Veronica, your friend, with your best interests at heart, told me you wouldn’t be able to live on your own. She asked me if you had any relatives.’
‘Veronica is a fusser. She’s never lived on her own in her life and doesn’t understand that some people prefer it that way.’
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