Revenge of the Middle-Aged Woman

‘You’re contradicting yourself, Mum. Admit.’

Defeated, she shrugged. ‘I can’t explain.’

This year I had not exhumed the chairs from the garden shed, so I fetched a couple from the kitchen. Ianthe sat down heavily in hers.

Macaroni cheese is comforting, and we ate in silence. Afterwards, Ianthe said, ‘Your father was a wonderfully secure person to live with, and he made people around him feel secure. That’s why I could never get over the will business. It was so unlike him.’

To my horror, her eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Mum, don’t. Please don’t.’

Ianthe extracted a neatly ironed handkerchief from her cardigan sleeve and pressed it to her eyes. ‘It’s nothing… I’m all right… Actually, there is something. It’s just that I have to have some tests and I haven’t been sleeping that well.’ Her pause was more alarming than anything she said. ‘Nothing serious, you know’

I pulled my chair closer to hers. ‘No, I don’t know, Mum. You’d better tell me.’

Ianthe gave the irritating laugh she reserved for social occasions when she felt out of depth. ‘Just a lump. The doctor says it’s more likely than not to be a cyst.’ She tapped her chest.

I thought rapidly. ‘When are the tests and where?’

‘That’s just it. There’s a bit of a wait.’

I started up. ‘I’ll ring Nathan. You’re on his insurance.’

Minty’s phone number was still stored on the phone’s menu in the sitting room and, with the flick of a button, I was talking to Nathan. ‘Nathan, Ianthe has to have some urgent tests. I wanted to check it’s OK to go ahead and use the insurance.’

Nathan cleared his throat. Always a bad sign. ‘I’ve been meaning to get in touch about this. I’ve had to take both your names off.’

‘I see.’ Pause. ‘Or, rather, I don’t.’ But I did. ‘Is this because you had to put Minty on instead?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Couldn’t you have told me?’

‘I should have done, but it slipped my mind. I’ll explain why one day, but it was necessary. Don’t worry, I haven’t made any other alterations.’

‘Let me get this straight. Ianthe can’t use the insurance for urgent tests, but we can summon the gasman to mend the boiler. We can die safely in a heated house.’ I struggled to keep calm. After all, what else should I expect? I said, more to myself than to Nathan, ‘What am I going to do about Ianthe?’

‘I…’ I heard Minty make a comment in the background and Nathan covered the receiver with his hand. There was a muffled and, judging by Minty’s tone, rather heated exchange. ‘Rose,’ Nathan came back on the line, ‘if you want some help…’

‘It’s fine, Nathan, don’t bother.’

I put down the phone and looked at my feet. Ianthe always said that she could not go on for ever but I expected her to. The room grew chilly, and I with it. I shook a little, whether from anger or fear I wasn’t sure. One thing was certain, however: I was on my own.

I lied, and told Ianthe that everything was arranged, and she was to have the bill sent to Lakey Street so that I could check it out before forwarding it to Nathan.

She seemed reassured and insisted in her quiet way that she wished to look at the garden and led me down the path, stopping frequently to assess a plant. I followed reluctantly. ‘You’ve been neglecting it,’ she scolded. ‘What a shame.’

‘I haven’t been out in it much.’

‘You should.’ She bent down to examine a clematis and her flowered dress made a graceful waterfall. ‘This has got wilt, Rose. If you cut it right back, you might save it.’ She looked at me severely, questioningly. ‘You’ve been letting things go. Whatever has happened, you must not give up. Others depend on you, and you must set an example to the children, and to me. We all depend on you.’ Lecture delivered, she pinched an olive leaf between her fingers. ‘I never thought you’d grow,’ she told it.

Smarting as I was, I laughed all the same. ‘I never thought I’d see you talking to it. Give it a few more years and you won’t recognize it.’

Ianthe turned away. I could almost taste her fear and anxiety and I could have bitten out my tongue. Maybe I don’t have any more years hung unspoken between us.

‘Mum…’ I thought rapidly. ‘Mum, I was going to ask you to help with the fountain. I need an extra hand.’

At once her face cleared. ‘Of course.’

I fetched the trug, the trowel and the bucket, and began to clear the debris that had accumulated. Even in water, leaves do not rot very quickly and those I extracted from it retained their shapes. We worked together, not saying much. Ianthe peeled back the wire covering the motor and held it, while I inserted my finger into the mechanism and scooped out the body of a dead tadpole and clods of mud. ‘OK, Mum,’ and she eased the wire back into place. I switched on the mechanism and the water dribbled, then flowed down into the cleansed pool. I made a few extra adjustments to the larger stones Poppy, Sam and I had collected years ago at Hastings, and stood back to admire our handiwork.

Ianthe brushed down the front of her dress, which was spattered by stagnant water. ‘I’m glad we did that.’

When Nathan’s mother died he said he wanted to remember her as she had once been, before the illness took a grip, and that I should too. It was a good, helpful thought, and typical of Nathan. There 0and then, I resolved that that was how I would think of him when I went back over the memories. The man who took trouble with his mother-in-law and spent time helping her with tax and pensions. Not, perhaps, how he wished to occupy his spare time, but he did it. The man who had told me privately that some people were damn ignorant about how the world functioned, but did his utmost to help all the same.

*

The following evening the doorbell went unexpectedly. It was Vee, flushed and panting. ‘Transport’s terrible round here,’ she said.

‘Always was,’ I said.

I kissed her, and took her into the sitting room. ‘I’ve just come to check I haven’t a suicide on my hands.’ Vee plumped down in the blue chair, and I knew she must have been talking to Mazarine. The knowledge that they were watching over me made me feel better.

‘Children OK?’

‘Sam comes up a lot and Poppy writes me postcards telling me not to worry.’

Vee smiled. ‘They’re the best.’

Hearing my children praised never failed. Vee leant back in the chair and closed her eyes. ‘I am absolutely exhausted. Completely, utterly drained. Why did I do it?’

I handed her a glass of white wine. I did not need to ask what she meant. ‘Drink this.’

‘All I dream about is being alone, completely alone. And sleeping.’ As she spoke, her features slackened, her skin paled, and Vee fell asleep, just like that. Sipping my wine, I sat and looked peacefully out of the window. After ten minutes or so, she woke. ‘Oh, God, Rose. Why did you let me do that? It’s dreadful. I do it all over the place. I’m terrified I’ll fall asleep in a meeting.’

As long as you’re not speaking, no one will notice.’

‘Beast.’

We laughed comfortably. She poked at her bag, her book bag. ‘Apart from the pleasure of seeing you, I want to use you. One of my reviewers has become temperamental so I sacked him yesterday, which leaves me without my round-up of travel books for the summer.’ Vee’s eyes opened wide. ‘Knowing your histoire, knowing you had plenty of time, I thought of you. You haven’t been gagged by the heavies? It’s not full-time employment. I’ll pay top whack… The thing is, you have only two days.’ She swallowed. ‘And one of the books is…’

I said it for her. ‘By Hal.’