Tread Softly (33 page)

‘Yes, but it's easier for you, Kathy. You're not married. You've nobody else to consider.'

‘God! We're back to bloody Ralph again! Why should
he
mind? He wanted you to find a job. Well, now you've as good as found one. Surely he'll be pleased.'

‘There's the phone – that might be him.' Lorna took the call in the office, glad of a chance to be on her own and digest all that Kathy had said. The phone-call was fortunately brief: the estate agent again, arranging to show more people round.

She rang off and stood by her desk, looking at the framed map on the wall. Each of the coloured pins represented weeks of hard work, and often angst and arguments as well; yet, in spite of all that effort, her heart had never been in Astro-Sport. She
was
good with people – Kathy was right – and working at The Cedars she would be part of a team, part of a community. At Oakfield she'd enjoyed being needed: befriending Frances, counselling Sharon, helping Val with activities.

She leaned against the desk to rest her foot – that was another factor to be taken into account. She could hardly start a new job if she was going ahead with the second operation. But, since there was no guarantee that the second op would be any more successful than the first, she could simply decide to live with the pain and to hell with it. In fact it would make her a more sympathetic administrator, dealing with elderly residents who might themselves be in pain.

She walked slowly back to the kitchen and sat down. ‘I am tempted, Kathy, I must admit. Obviously I'll have to discuss it with Ralph, and you and I will need to talk in more detail.'

‘Yes, and Chris has the final say, of course. But I know you'll like each other. She's very honest and direct, and though profit's her main concern she shares a lot of my ideals. Oh, Lorna, I'm so excited! Shall I ring her now and tell her?'

‘No, wait until tomorrow. Ralph's due back later this afternoon and I'll discuss it with him then. I'll give you a buzz tonight.'

‘OK, but let's drink a toast. To us – a new start for both of us!' ‘It's madness, Lorna,' Ralph said vehemently, getting up from his desk. ‘You can't turn on the radio these days without hearing about another old folks' home going down the tubes. The boom's over – well and truly. This Chris or whatever her name is will be bankrupt before you know it, and
you
'll be left high and dry.'

‘At least get your facts right, Ralph. Most of those homes had to close because the local authorities wouldn't pay enough for their residents. But Chris's aiming at a different market entirely. Her place will be more like a five-star hotel, except people can buy in services as and when they need them, like nursing, or help with bathing and dressing.'

‘Yes, and there's the problem. How does she intend to find halfway-decent staff? You've only got to look at Oakfield House to see how impossible it is.'

‘But that's the point. They're deliberately setting out to avoid abuses, by –'

‘Fine talk in theory. But once the place opens its doors Chris'll realize what she's up against. Hell, we think we have problems with
our
clients, but at least they're not gaga or incontinent.'

‘And nor will most of hers be. I'm sure she knows what she's doing. Kathy says she's had years of experience. She used to run a group of specialist hotels.'

‘That's different altogether. Hotels don't have the government breathing down their neck with endless petty regulations and miles of red tape.'

‘I bet they do,' she said irritably. He was standing right behind her and she was trying to finish a complicated report.

‘Well, they certainly don't have the social services turning up on the doorstep every five minutes to do spot checks.'

‘OK, according to you the venture's doomed before it starts.' Lorna jabbed at the keyboard with unnecessary force. ‘What do you suggest I do instead?'

He leaned over and took her hand. ‘Continue as my partner in the business.'

‘
What?'

‘I've been reconsidering, Lorna. We'd be crazy to wind it up when we need every penny we can get. Last night, when you were showing people round, I rang George at the Sherborne golf club and he said he thinks we'll get the contract.'

Indignantly she shook his hand off. ‘I
told
you that a fortnight ago, and you said you were sick to death of the business and there wasn't a hope of running it without a house.'

‘OK, I over-reacted. I was very low at the time. But that job's worth a heck of a lot. And it's pretty straightforward stuff. In fact I could do the fitting myself at a push, to save on costs. They want pathways, teetops, cross-overs, a practice putting-green and –'

‘I know exactly what they want, Ralph. But you can't keep chopping and changing like this. I mean, I've more or less accepted this job of Kathy's, and now you say we're back in harness.' She already sensed the heavy straps pressing down again, the bit hurting her mouth as Ralph yanked on the reins. ‘Besides, we need money in hand for a big job like Sherborne. How are we going to pay for the materials?'

‘By juggling things very carefully. We delay paying the suppliers until our cheque from the golf club is safely in the bank. George is a decent enough chap. If I tell him we need payment on the nail I'm sure he'll sort it out.'

‘That's taking an awful risk, though. What if he's off sick or gets the chop? They might not pay up for months.'

‘Now who's being negative?'

‘Ralph, for goodness' sake, we can't
afford
to juggle things, as you put it. We're in enough trouble as it is.'

Dejectedly he returned to his desk. Their chairs were back to back. She had often thought it significant that at work they should face in opposite directions, never meeting each other's eyes. She heard him strike a match.

‘Ralph, please don't smoke. We've got those people coming later.'

‘They won't smell it in here.'

‘Of course they will.'

‘Don't change the subject. What I'd like to know is, if you take this job with Kathy at the princely sum of £8 an hour, how are we meant to live?'

‘You get a job too.'

‘I've told you, no one wants me. Including my own wife it seems.'

‘Oh, Ralph …' He sounded so forlorn. ‘I just can't bear to lose this chance. It's the sort of thing I'd really love to do. And Kathy and I get on so well …'

‘All right, go ahead. It's not fair for me to stop you.'

She swivelled round to look at him: his shoulders were hunched, his head bowed. He had spoken not with bitterness but in a tone of utter desolation. This year he had lost so much: his financial clout, his pride, his self-esteem. And soon he would lose the house, which he had owned for half a lifetime. She went over to his chair and put her arm round him. ‘Can't you run the business without me – get an assistant perhaps?'

‘And how do I pay her? In any case, it's
you
I want. You know the business inside out. You're brilliant at it. I'd never train anyone else to your standard.'

‘You … you've never said that before.'

‘I'm sorry, darling. I've taken you for granted. I realize I haven't been at my best these last few months, what with all the strain and worry. But I love you, Lorna, and it means a tremendous lot to me that we work together. I'd hate that to change.'

‘Ralph, you told me we were finished.' She looked wearily at his cluttered desk. ‘Don't you see how confusing it is if one day you say one thing, and the next you –'

‘I'm sorry,' he repeated. ‘You've every right to be annoyed. But I've come to the conclusion that our only chance of staying solvent is to carry on as we were. We've got one decent-sized contract in hand – two, including Sherborne – and the Salisbury and Lewes tennis-courts in the pipeline, and at least six other jobs we've quoted for.'

‘We can't count on getting more than two of those six – if that. You know how much undercutting goes on. That new team, Art-Grass, can hardly be breaking even at the ridiculous prices they charge, never mind making a profit.'

‘Yes, but they won't survive. And we will. Anyway, if only two of the six come back to us it's something.'

‘And how do we pay for materials?'

‘On credit.'

‘That's risky too.'

‘No more than trying to exist on one piffling wage.'

She sighed in exasperation. ‘I just don't believe you can't get a job of some sort.'

‘Oh, stacking shelves in Tesco's maybe. Except even they probably don't employ the over-fifties. Anyway, that's not the point. We've built up this business between us, darling. It's our child, if you like, and we can't simply give it up after nurturing it all this time.'

Their child, she thought with a shudder. Another miscarriage, another aborted mess flushed down the sluice. ‘I don't think we're very good at children, Ralph. They've cost us too much emotionally.'

‘You're forgetting how well things went in the beginning. We lived comfortably for years.'

No, she hadn't forgotten – nor ever would. When she had moved here as Ms Maguire she was skint and also in debt. She had brought nothing to the marriage except depression, insecurity and panic. Yet a few months later, as Mrs Pearson, she owned a joint share in a substantial house and a potentially profitable business, a snazzy little car, a wardrobe full of clothes, and private health insurance.

‘Let's give it one more try. We'll find out soon enough if it's going to work.
Please
, Lorna.' He squeezed her hand. ‘You don't know how much it means to me.'

Never before had he pleaded with her – he was too proud. His pride was part of the problem. If, as he feared, he didn't manage to get a job, how would he feel queueing at the dole office – the once successful engineer and company director?

‘Remember on our honeymoon we promised to stand by each other, whatever happened?'

She nodded, thinking of her previous relationships: brief, reckless couplings, desperate, ill-advised. But Ralph was completely different: a man who valued fidelity and trust, and who would neither hurt nor leave her. It was
she
who had ruined the honeymoon, with her nightly panics, her fear of drowning and shipwreck. Yet Ralph had talked her through them, steadied her, consoled her.

She glanced down at his hand, clamped over hers. It was all very well for Kathy to say leave him to rot. No outsider could ever be privy to the intimate balance sheet of a marriage. Besides, when you married someone you took on the child as well as the adult, and how could she abandon that vulnerable boy? She had seen photos of him at school: a thin, pale child with frightened eyes.

In the ensuing silence the pressure of his fingers increased – a form of wordless plea. Then suddenly he cleared his throat and said with an embarrassed air, ‘There's something I want to tell you, Lorna.'

Oh, God, she thought, what now?

‘I've … decided to stop drinking.'

‘Ralph, surely you don't expect me to believe –'

‘I mean it. Last night I poured every drop of Scotch in the house down the sink.'

‘Down the sink?' she echoed.

‘Yes. As a gesture. To prove that you can trust me.'

‘But, Ralph, don't you think that's rather extreme – giving up altogether?' He'd be restless, sleepless, impossibly bad-tempered. ‘Why not just cut down?'

‘No, I want to do it properly. For your sake.'

She was touched, despite herself. He must value her more than she'd realized if he was willing to make such a sacrifice – or at least value her help in the business.

‘Don't fall for it, Lorna,' Kathy's voice warned. ‘How long do you think he'll last? A couple of days? Remember when he tried to give up smoking? He's just using every trick in the book to stop you taking the job with us.'

Lorna looked at his dead pipe. Normally if she asked him not to smoke he ignored her. Might he genuinely want a new start? There was a side of Ralph that Kathy didn't know: he was stoical, and loyal; he took flowers to Naomi's grave every year, on her birthday. And every year he sent cheques to various multiple-sclerosis charities, even when money was tight. Nor did he bear grudges. Indeed, he had supported his mother financially after she was widowed, despite her former neglect of him.

‘I … I think I'll make a cup of tea.' She needed a moment to herself. She was being pulled in all directions and hardly knew what to think any longer, except that Oshoba was somehow the key. If she hadn't betrayed Ralph she would feel morally justified in taking the job at The Cedars. But to betray him twice …

She stood by the hob, twisting her wedding-ring round and round on her finger. For better or worse, she had vowed. Forsaking all other …

Forlornly she walked back to the office, hearing the four cedartrees crash headlong to the ground. ‘OK, Ralph, we'll give it one last go. And I'll do my utmost to make it work.'

He said nothing, simply took her in his arms. Pressed close to him, it was Oshoba she could feel, the hardness and heat of his body, the polished gleam of his skin.

‘Let's start again,' Ralph murmured. ‘I'll never touch another drink, I promise.'

‘It won't be easy.' Any more than giving up Oshoba would be easy. Or The Cedars.

‘Doesn't matter. I owe it to you. I know I've been a disappointment.'

‘Don't say that, Ralph.'

‘It's true. I wanted to give you everything. I couldn't even give you a child, and now –'

‘I didn't know you minded about … the child.'

‘Well, more for your sake than mine. But I still feel that I failed you.'

‘We both failed. It was me as much as you.'