Meanwhile Gardens (21 page)

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Authors: Charles Caselton

BOOK: Meanwhile Gardens
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Auntie Em sighed, “So we’ve heard sweetness.”

“Besides it’s Lloyd Webber, not Pinter or anything difficult – he’s hardly going to drift off during the pauses – and it’s a musical. I think Wayne can handle a couple of songs for heaven’s sake.”

“Of course he can angel,” Auntie Em gave him a peck on the cheek. “You go and enjoy yourself. Don’t worry about Hum, he’ll be fine with us.”

Rion screamed when she saw Jake. She couldn’t stop herself. Her friend was barely coherent, his lips had a scary bluish tinge and she was sure she could see specks of white at the corner of his mouth.

He was also incredibly pale.

“Jake!” she shook him by the shoulders but Jake had lost control of his muscles and flopped around like a rag doll.

It didn’t take Florence Nightingale to realise he needed medical help.

Rion grabbed Jake’s mobile phone and dialled 999. The emergency services answered promptly.

“Police, Fire or Ambulance?” the efficient voice at the other end enquired.

“Ambulance!” Rion choked.

“Where to Madam?”

Rion wailed, “The cemetery!”

The voice at the other end turned cold, “I suppose you’ll be telling me next that it’s for a dead friend?”

“I’m not sure, I think he might be – how did you know?” Rion gasped with relief.

There was an icy silence from the operator.

“We don’t appreciate these hoax calls Madam. You’re blocking the lines for people that might really need us.”

“But I do!”

“I could report you for wasting our time and I will do if you call again,” the emergency operator clicked off the phone. It was the fourth joke call since his shift had started.

“This is not a hoax!” Rion protested before realising she had been cut off.

Remembering what they did in films Rion lightly slapped Jake on the face but it seemed to do no good. She looked in his eyes and saw they were almost fully glazed over.

What else did they do?

Quelling her rising panic she remembered they always made people walk – but how would she do that?

“You’ve got to help me Jake,” Rion put her arms around his waist and tried to help him up. “We’re going to go and get help you and I,” she spoke slowly and clearly.

Jake lolled his head in what Rion took for a nod. He tried to speak but all it did was increase the foam building at the corners of his mouth.

Jake appeared to switch on autopilot as they half-clung, slid and fell down the vast tree trunk. Rion was grateful it wasn’t Senora Padilla’s day for visiting her dead husband. Seeing a young girl and a ghostly white dribbling figure fall out of the tree above her would no doubt have speeded the Cuban widow’s entrance into the spirit world.

With Jake lurching semi-conscious against her Rion struggled along the small path adjoining the canal. She
looked around frantically for a cemetery guard but, in the manner of law enforcement officers everywhere, there wasn’t one around when needed. After what seemed an age they were through the gates of the Dissenters Chapel and on the bridge at the top of Ladbroke Grove.

“Help me!” she pleaded with the first people she saw.

The couple glared at Jake and Rion before hurrying past.

The few other people coming their way crossed to the other side to avoid them. Rion tried to flag down a lone taxi that slowed down, then sped up, upon seeing the state they were in.

With Jake getting heavier and heavier against her, Rion decided the only thing to do was to head down the towpath for Meanwhile Gardens Mews.

But didn’t Auntie Em say she had to be somewhere for tea? And what if – oh God, please no – what if the volume on the radio had been turned up?

Praying for someone to be there – and not having sex – Rion staggered down the canal. She was acutely aware that Jake’s breath was getting slower and slower.

Auntie Em looked forward to these chaste romantic assignments. They made her feel so girlish, a quality she had never sought for herself, and normally abhorred in others, but at the moment it felt, well, it felt just delicious.

Slipping her hand into Doctor Gidwani’s she felt a pleasant tingle as his thumb caressed hers.

“You know Kanwar,” she said to the handsome Indian, “if we continued walking, and walking, and walking,” Emma dreamily gestured up the canal, “perhaps for several days, we would end up somewhere in the middle of England.”

Auntie Em felt her knees buckle slightly as the doctor turned to look at her with those deep brown eyes.

“It would be Heaven to spend several days alone with you, my love,” Kanwar Gidwani smiled, “but if we finished up in Birmingham my cousins and aunts wouldn’t give us a moment’s peace.”

Auntie Em was silent at the thought of a break spent alone with the strikingly handsome, gentle-mannered doctor.

“Perhaps we could?”

“Spend a few days in Birmingham?” the doctor flashed a smile of unrivalled brilliance at her.

Emma laughed gently, “Spend a few days alone.”

Kanwar pulled her to him and nuzzled her face, “There would be nothing I would like more,” he murmured, placing an elegant finger under her chin. Auntie Em was sure he was about to kiss her for the very first time when he froze.

“Kanwar?”

“Isn’t that – ”

Doctor Gidwani looked up the canal where it appeared a man had his arms around a young girl and was refusing to let go.

“Isn’t that Rion?”

Even though the body of the man obscured the girl’s face Emma knew immediately who it was.

“Yes. Yes. It is, and it looks like she needs help.”

Auntie Em began hurrying up the canal towards the couple. “Get off her!” she shouted in her most authoritative of voices.

But the man didn’t pay any attention.

“Auntie Em!” Rion shrieked. “It’s Jake. I think he’s dying!”

Doctor Gidwani was first on the scene, “Has he taken any drugs?”

“No!”

“Rion you can tell me.”

“You won’t get into trouble,” Auntie Em said slightly out of breath.

Doctor Gidwani began muttering as he looked into Jake’s drooping eyes, going through all the conditions that could bring the young man to such a state.

“Jake’s not a druggie,” Rion said almost crying. “He may smoke an awful lot of grass but – ”

Auntie Em turned to Kanwar. “That couldn’t do – ” she gestured to Jake’s crumpled body, “ – this, could it?”

“No,” Doctor Gidwani rummaged in his jacket pocket for his mobile phone, “not unless it was laced with paraquat.” He pulled Jake roughly to his feet, “Keep him standing.”

Jake had now lost all control of his muscles and was slipping in and out of consciousness. Whilst Auntie Em and Rion struggled to keep him upright the doctor barked instructions into his phone. As soon as he had finished he rushed to take Jake’s weight from the woman and young girl. “Help me walk him to Ha’penny Steps, that’s where they’re meeting us.” Although Kanwar’s voice was calm Em could tell he was growing very concerned.

With Jake propped between Doctor Gidwani and Auntie Em, they made their way the short distance back to the old tollbridge.

“Will he be alright?” Rion asked, skittishly following the ungainly trio.

Doctor Gidwani looked at his watch. He was beginning to get more flustered. “I’ve informed St Mary’s and if we can get him there in time he’ll probably be ok.”

“Probably?” Rion said, unable to envisage the ‘probably not’. “Probably?” she choked again, horrified.

Kanwar looked at his watch again and strained to hear the ambulance but there were no sirens to be heard.

“There’s no way it can be called the unlucky house now,” Ollie surveyed the work they had done in lA.

Wayne called through from the bathroom, “Unlucky what?”

“It’s Auntie Em’s name for the house,” Ollie explained walking over to the small room which, apart from having no door, was almost finished. “The reason why – ” Ollie stopped himself as he entered and just looked. He never got tired of the sight of Wayne.

The builder, shirtless, flecked with paint, was busy adjusting the thermostat on the shower. “The reason why?” he looked up questioningly.

“It’s – er – a long story and not important.”

With a final twist of the screwdriver Wayne wiped his forehead and stepped out of the cubicle, “It should work now.” He turned on the tap and leapt out of the way as a stream of water burst from the showerhead.

Ollie gingerly tested the water with his hand, “And it’s warm!” He grinned at the builder, “Should we christen it?”

Wayne answered by simply slipping the belt from his work trousers and letting them fall to the floor.

They didn’t bother turning up the radio.

Nicky hurried down the stairs hoping it would be Auntie Em. There was an element of the plan that concerned her.

“About time,” she said as she opened the door but instead of Emma Nelson she found Wayne.

“Am I late?” the builder looked at his watch. “Auntie Em said to come over at six.”

Auntie Em? It grated almost as much as him calling her Nicks.

“Sorry. Come in,” she said, taking in how presentable he looked in one of Ollie’s shirts over black jeans.

“Best leave it on the latch,” Wayne said before she could shut the door. “Ollie’ll be over in a minute.”

Following him up the stairs Nicky caught a whiff of a familiar lemony smell. She was sure it was from the bottle of Issey Miyake she had given Ollie for his birthday.

“What needs doing then?”

In an effort to make sure Wayne stayed until everything was in place Auntie Em and Nicky had decided to tempt him with more work.

Nicky moved to the mantelpiece where Merlijnche de Poortje cast her sad gaze over the room.

“A complete overhaul really. Repainting for starters.”

“Where?”

As Nicky gestured to the whole of the space she made sure to run her fingers along the gilt-framed miniature, but Wayne still hadn’t noticed. “Everywhere.”

“Woodwork too?”

Nicky nodded. “And varnishing the floors in the kitchen and bathroom.”

“The works then?”

Unable to wait for him to spot Merlijnche de Poortje Nicky knocked the small painting from the mantelpiece.

“Whoops!” she said catching the miniature with great relief before it hit the floor, “Ollie would have killed me.” With great exaggeration Nicky placed Merlijnche de Poortje back on the mantelpiece. “Apparently it’s quite valuable.”

Wayne turned to see Nicky pointing to the picture of the girl in the white fur stole.

“Didn’t Ollie show this to you?” Nicky asked.

The builder’s attention had most certainly been captured. He moved closer to the miniature and looked at it curiously.

“Funny. He said you were into Dutch painting.”

“Some,” the builder grunted.

“Do you like Vermeer?”

Wayne was still fixated by Merlijnche de Poortje. “Sorry Nicks, I’ve just had a shower,” he shook his head as if to clear excess water from his ears. “Do what for you?”

That settles it Nicky thought.

“Nothing,” she murmured.

At the rattle of the letterbox Nicky shouted down, “It’s open.”

The sound of the stairs being taken two by two preceded Ollie’s arrival in their midst. He burst into the sitting room looking freshly washed and scrubbed.

“Are you ready?” he asked Wayne before going to greet Nicky with a kiss on the cheek.

She tilted her head to one side and looked at him admiringly. “Where are you off to looking so dapper?”

“To see
Love Never Dies
.”

Nicky couldn’t hide her disappointment.

“I thought we were going to go and see that Ol,” she said crossly. “I could do with an up night in the West End, especially after the last few days.”

Wayne snuck another quick look at the miniature. There was no doubt this was the one in the picture Candida had given him.

“I could make a start on those quotes if you really want to go Nicks.”

I bet you could Nicky thought.

Wayne put his arm around Ollie’s shoulders. “Nicks might want me to do some work for her.”

“Tonight?” Ollie asked incredulously.

“No. No. You go to the theatre,” she said quickly. Things weren’t set up yet anyway. “Maybe tomorrow night – we’ll all be at the fireworks on Primrose Hill.”

“So will Wayne!” Ollie protested.

It would be better tomorrow night, Wayne thought, when no one was around. “Let’s see how things turn out.” He picked up the miniature and turned to Ollie, “You never told me about this.”

“Ah Merlijnche,” Ollie’s face lit up upon seeing the miniature. “She looks good here doesn’t she? I’ve borrowed her for a few days from Auntie Em.”

Wayne turned to Ollie. “Has she been looking after it for you?”

“Yes, Auntie Em thinks someone is – ”

“You’d better be going O1,” Nicky hurriedly shooed them from the room, “you don’t want to be late.”

As Wayne went down the stairs Ollie hugged the photographer, “Sorry about tonight Nicks, I’ll make it up to you I promise. And thanks,” he gave her a resounding kiss on the cheek, “for keeping Wayne here.”

“It’s not sure yet,” Nicky said cautiously.

“I know you’re doing it for me.”

Nicky guiltily returned his hug. “I hope you’ll thank me for it later,” she managed to mutter.

Ollie blew her a kiss and left.

Wayne was able to make the call during the interval of the hit show. An answerphone clicked on immediately but it was unmistakably Candida’s voice on the message.

The builder kept it short. “I’ve eyeballed what you’re looking for. It’ll be in your hands before too long.” Through the crush he could see Ollie approaching with the drinks, “Call me tomorrow.”

Wayne clicked off the phone. He would miss Ollie but the bonus would make it worthwhile.

18
A HOMECOMING

O
llie and Rion sat on Auntie Em’s sofa anxiously listening in to her phone conversation. They could hear a steady stream of soothing tones that obviously belonged to Doctor Gidwani, followed by a voiced breath signifying Auntie Em’s digesting of the information. This carried on for several minutes before Auntie Em thanked Kanwar and put down the phone.

“Well?” Ollie and Rion asked in unison.

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