Rise and Fall of a Domestic Diva (14 page)

As Kate drove between No. 236 Prendergast Road and No. 22, she was unable to get the image of Miles and Jessica standing together in the Burgesses’ kitchen out of her mind and was suddenly desperate to see Robert in a way she hadn’t been for a long timelonger than she could remember.

Her post-PRC migraine vanished; even the fact that Findlay hadn’t got into St Anthony’s became nothing more than a dimly lit feature at the back of her mind as she accelerated down the badly lit street, past the front garden where a schoolboy had been raped in August the year before.

Parking badly outside their house, she ran through the rain to the front door, a sense of urgency making it difficult to get the right key in the lock.

The hall light had been left on.

She made her way upstairs and as she passed the lounge door heard Margery, who must have been dreaming, mumbling, ‘Not now Tom.’ Then Margery started giggling. It was unsettling, this unconscious stream of giggles coming from an elderly woman.

Kate carried on upstairs and into their bedroom.

Robert was slumped awkwardly against the pillows, his
head flopping over a book Ros had given her
How to Eliminate Life’s Toxins
.

She sat down and gently pulled the book away from him and a few seconds later he jerked suddenly awake, snorting loudly before lying down and pulling the duvet up over him.

Smiling, Kate kicked off her shoes and curled up next to him, stroking his ears. She carried on stroking them, absently, unconsciously inhaling the familiar smells rising from his warm bodyand was on the verge of falling asleep herself, fully clothed, when he turned round suddenly, his eyes wide open, large and helpless, staring at her.

‘Hey,’ he said sleepily, ‘it’s you.’

He eased himself contentedly onto his back, then turned his head to look at her.

‘Where’ve you been?’ He moved his head from side to side on the pillow and yawned. ‘I haven’t seen you in ages,’ he said, pulling the duvet back and propping himself up on his elbow. ‘You just sort of vanished some time back and since then I’ve been living with the other Kate.’

‘I did?’

He nodded with mock seriousness. ‘Where did you go?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Where do you go when you vanish like that?’ He leant down and kissed her suddenly.

‘I don’t know,’ she said again, running her hand over his chest. She looked up at him. ‘What do you dowhen I vanish like that?’

‘I waitand hope that each time you come back to me, you stay a little longer.’

He brushed her hair from her face and ran his finger round the edges of it.

After a while, she said, ‘Do you ever get scared that I won’t come back?’

‘I get scared that…’ He paused. ‘I get scared. But in the end you always come back.’

‘What if I don’t?’ she insisted. ‘What if one time…I just don’t.’

‘You will.’

‘What if I vanish and never come back?’

This time there was no response; they just stared at each other in silence.

‘What ifwhat if you stop caring whether I come back or not?’ She could hear the panic in her voice now and her hands were on the top of his arms. ‘What if you decide that you’ve had enough?’

‘I won’t.’

‘What if I’m just all wrong for you?’

He sighed. ‘I don’t know the answer to that any more, Kate.’ He broke off, putting his hand on her forehead. ‘You’ve got a temperatureyou’re shaking.’

‘It’s all the rain today. I don’t care. Robert…’

She hadn’t sought comfort like this for a lot of years. She hadn’t let him comfort her for even longer; she hadn’t admitted to needing his comfort for even longer than that; and they hadn’t made lovemade love properlyfor even longer than that again. An absurd thought passed briefly through her mindthis was the last time they were ever going to make lovethen it passed.

Afterwards he started to fall asleep on top of her, and was pushed gently off.

She felt for his hand under the duvet and kept hold of it, squeezing tightly until at last her grip loosened, her breathing changed and she fell into a deep sleep.

Robert walked into the kitchen and there was Kate in a pair of Marigolds, scrubbing furiously at something on the fridge door.

There were eight cakes, all different sizes, lined up along the bench.

Then he noticed the flashcards. Everything in the kitchen that could be labelled, was labelled.

‘Kate?’

Kate stood up straight and stared at him, distant. She followed his eyes round the room. ‘Ohyeah, I did that just now. Findlay needs to improve on his word recognition.’ She went back to the FRIDGE door, mumbling, ‘Fucking thing won’t come out.’

‘How did you sleep?’

‘I didn’t.’

‘Bad dreams?’

She shrugged, and carried on scrubbing.

‘What time were you up?’

‘I don’t know…four?’

‘Four?’

‘I told youI couldn’t sleep.’

‘So, what have you been doing since four?’

‘Baking. Cakes.’

His eyes ran nervously over the line-up on the bench again.

‘It’s for the street partyI have to start now. I’m meant to be supplying the entire stall’s worth in less than six weeks.’

He got himself a bowl of cereal and stood eating it, watching her. From the lounge, he heard Findlay and Margery arguing.

‘Here,’ he said, picking a cloth out of the SINK, ‘Let me have a go.’

Frustrated, Kate went into the lounge to see what all the noise was about.

There was nothing on the FRIDGE door apart from an early morning patch of sunlight. Robert stared at it for a while then followed Kate through to the lounge.

‘Did it come off?’ she said.

He nodded, ‘You okay, Finn?’

Findlay nodded morosely.

‘He’s bleeding all over the sofa…’

‘I said it doesn’t matter,’ Kate said.

‘It’s his eczema,’ Margery carried on. ‘He sits there picking at it, then it bleeds. If he put the cream on, it would stop itching.’

‘The cream stings me.’

‘It’s that Spiderman suitI told you it would bring on his eczema.’

‘I’ve got to go,’ Robert said.

‘At least you’ve got somewhere else to go to,’ Kate called out after him.

Ignoring this, he left the house, banging the DOOR shut behind him.

She listened to him leave the house then went into the kitchen, trying to remember what she’d gone in there for.
She went over to the WINDOW, looking out at the tattered leaves of a date palm planted by the previous owners of No. 22 Prendergast Road. She hated the date palm; hated the entire garden, in fact.

A bumblebee grazed the WINDOW, trying to get in.

Then the phone started to ring.

‘Kate? Kateyou
are
a dark horse.’ Evie’s voice came jabbering down the line accompanied by low, rapid breathing. ‘Putting your house on the market and not saying anything to anybody.’

Evie’s was the first of many phone calls Kate had been anticipating that morning. ‘I know,’ she said.

‘But you haven’t said anything—’

‘I know.’

‘To anybody—’

‘I know.’

‘Not a thing.’

‘I knowI know.’ Kate coughed.

‘SoWHAT’S GOING ON?’

‘Well, we’re thinking of moving.’

‘Thinking? Your house is on the market.’

‘Well, we’ve seen this place…’ Kate paused. ‘Near Lot in France?’ She’d been rehearsing this all weekend, but Evie was the first person she’d actually tried it out on.

‘You’re emigrating?’ Evie screamed.

‘Not emigratingit would be more of a second home. Robert gets so much holiday being a teacher…’

‘So?’

‘So, we were thinking of downscaling here in Londonreleasing a bit of capital and putting it towards a second home.’

‘But why didn’t you say?’

‘I don’t knowwe’ve only just started talking about it to each other. It still seems strange.’

‘Well, Ros phoned me—’

‘How did Ros find out about it?’

‘She saw it on the Internet and whoever took the pictures has made it look HUGE…’ Evie broke off.

‘Why didn’t Ros phone me?’

‘I’m not meant to say anything, but Ros has just put her house on the market as well. What’s going on with everybody?’

‘Ros has?’ Kate didn’t know what to say.

‘With Foxtons. They reckon they can get over eight hundred and twenty-five thousand for it.’ When Kate didn’t respond to this, Evie said, ‘Soyou’re not leaving us altogether, then? I mean, you’re looking locally.’

‘Locally?’

‘Because of school?’

‘School?’ Kate tried not to panic. Did Evie
know
?

‘You don’t want to lose Findlay’s place at St Anthony’s.’

‘No, I’ve been looking in the catchment areaat that place on Beulah Hill, actually.’

‘Beulah Hill? Well, you’ll need to start lookingyours will go in no time, Kate. I had a friend on Derwent Street who put hers on the market on a Friday morning; by the afternoon she had three offers and it went out to bids. She got sixty more than the asking.’

Kate didn’t respond to this; she was too busy wondering why Ros had phoned Evierather than herwhen she saw the house on the Internet.

‘Have you had anybody round yet?’

‘We’ve got some people coming this afternoon.’

‘Well, keep me updated, and listenanother reason I phoned is…I’m having a chickenpox party. I’ve been stuck in for four days and now Ingrid’s gone and got it, which means more quarantine…. I’m going completely bloody stir crazy. Come on, Kate, everybody’s coming. I’ve made
gallons of Pimms…I mean, it’s not like we haven’t done our bit lately.’

The primary reason for the chickenpox party wasn’t in fact chickenpox. Chickenpox was the excuse to gather together as large an audience as possible in order to break the news that Aggie had been diagnosed dyspraxic.

‘But Jessica’s taking Findlay and Margery down to the coast with her todayand Flo hasn’t got chickenpox.’

‘Well, it’s much better if they have it youngmy mother put me in the bath with my sister when she had it.’ Evie broke off. ‘God, is Margery still there? How many weeks is it now?’

‘Don’t talk about it.’

‘Well, Jessica owes you: you’re forever having Arthur for her.’

The idea that Jessica was abusing Kate’s generosity was a very popular one among PRC members.

In the lounge, Findlay and Margery were still arguing.

She went through the back door and up the side passage into the garden, drawing level with the back of the house, where a
Hydrangea petiolaris
she’d been told would do amazing things to her north-facing wall was struggling to take hold.

The garden was devoid of life, but at least Margery wasn’t there.

She stood staring at the balding lawn Findlay wasn’t allowed to play football on that culminated, beyond the eucalyptus and date palm, in a shed they’d lost the key to, and a climbing frame with a tent on the top that local cats urinated in. Before they’d moved to No. 22, they’d talked about how Findlay would at last have somewhere to play; how they’d be able to barbecue. But when they’d moved in, the garden had seemed much smaller than they’d remembered from the two viewings. After one broken window and countless balls over neighbours’ fences, they’d decided to prohibit ball games.
Robert had admitted that he found barbecues depressing; that the last thing he felt like doing at the weekend was barbecuing meat for semi-strangers.

With an effort, Kate remembered that she was still on the phone to Evie. ‘Listen, I’ve got to go—’

‘Well, don’t forget to keep me updated on the house, and if you change your mind about the chickenpox party just drop init’s open house.’

Kate started to walk slowly back towards the house.

As she went indoors, she heard Margery’s voice shouting at Findlay to stop scratching his eczema, and was about to say something when the doorbell started to ring.

Findlay ran to answer it and there were Jessica and Arthur on the doorstep.

‘Margery!’ Kate yelled, surveying Jessica’s strange attire. Jessica was as much an indicator of what not to wear as Ros was of what
to
wear. ‘I think you’ve seriously saved her life by taking her off my hands today,’ Kate hissed, leaning forwards. ‘And listenI just found out from Evie that Ros put her house on the market as well. I had no idea Ros was thinking of moving.’

‘She rang me Fridayshe’s put it on with Foxtons.’

‘Friday? She hasn’t said anything to me.’

‘Well, from what she said, they’re doing pretty much what you’re doingdownscaling in London and buying somewhere either in Kent or…I can’t remember where else she said. Anyway, she’s keen to stay in the catchment area for St Anthony’s because she doesn’t want Toby to lose his place.’ Jessica smiled. ‘Hi, Margery,’ she said as Margery appeared in the hallway behind Kate. ‘You’ve changed your hair.’

Margery’s hands went to her hair, self-conscious. Then she smiled.

‘The parting’s on the other side and the colourno, it’s not the colour that’s changed. You’ve got curls.’

‘Natural curls,’ Margery said, proudly.

‘I never knew you had curls. Lovely,’ Jessica added.

Kate and Margery, now standing side by side, paused awkwardly, aware that they had never and would never have a conversation like that.

‘Findlay!’ Kate called out, suddenly nervous.

Findlay came rushing through the women and past them into the outside world, a Spiderman rucksack on his back, already wearing his goggles and with a bucket shaped like a castle in his hand, yelling ‘Arthur!’, with no thoughts of anything but what was ahead.

Kate, unsure of herself under Jessica’s frank, smiling gaze, let him go and didn’t insist on the usual parting rituals. ‘Got everything?’ she said to Margery.

Margery nodded, patting the handbag that rarely left her side.

‘We should be back about fiveI’ll give you a ring when we set off. Oh, Kate, I meant to saywe’ve had another offer made on the Beulah Hill house…’ Jessica hesitated. ‘It’s Ros, actually.’

‘Ros?’ Kate yelled.

Jessica paused awkwardly. ‘Ros’s house has only just gone on the market as well. Mr Jackson’s considering both offers.’

‘How much was Ros’s offer?’

‘I can’t sayit’s confidential.’

‘Jessica…’

Jessica was turning to leave with Margery when she stopped suddenly. ‘You don’t know if anybody’s got a dachshund that’s gone missing…?

‘A dachshund?’ Kate said, vaguely.

‘I saw one in the garden last night.

Kate shook her head. ‘A dog kept me awake a few nights ago, but…a dachshund?’

‘What else would it be?’

‘A fox?’ Margery said suddenly. ‘I’ve seen foxes in the garden. The other night I thought I heard somethingopened the curtains and there was this pair of eyes staring in at me through the patio windows. Nearly died, I did.’ Margery paused, going back to the night before and the eyes at the window. At the time, she’d thought it was the rapist next door, Mr Hamilton; that had been her first thought.

Jessica shook her head. ‘It’s much smaller than a fox.’

‘Maybe you’ve got rats then.’

‘It’s not a rat.’

‘You want to watch it’s not ratsI’m sure I saw something near the bins here the other day. Rats can be bigbigger than you think. And this
is
London. I’d get someone to come and have a look,’ she said to Jessica. ‘You might have rats.’