Paradise Fields (9 page)

‘Oh yeah, Nel's going to take me to where someone makes beauty products in their own home. I love that idea. By the way, thank you for the other night, Jake. It was so fun.'

Jake acknowledged this gracefully, and Nel suddenly felt slightly sick.

‘Well, must get on,' said Nel, not looking at Jake, ‘Lots to do.'

‘You will take me to your friend's place?' said Kerry Anne.

‘If you really want to. Give me a ring. Now I must go!'

At the bottom of the high street, she nearly bumped into Simon.

‘Nel! Hi! You look very—'

‘What?' Nel snapped, feeling extra sensitive. ‘How do I look?'

‘Pretty, actually. You look pretty.'

Nel smiled warmly, patted his coat and moved on. ‘Sorry, must dash,' she called as she went on down the High Street. ‘I must see Fleur. I'll see you tonight.'

She reached her car, only ten minutes after its ticket expired, and realised Simon had never said she was pretty before. What on earth had come over him? Why was he saying it now?

FLEUR WAS SITTING
at the kitchen table, a mug of tea in front of her, propping herself up on her hands.

‘Hi, darling,' said Nel as she came in from the back door. ‘Have you had breakfast? I bought some croissants.'

When she first had children, Nel had resolved always to make the first thing she said to them each day positive. While she had found it quite hard, particularly when her boys refused to get out of bed in time for school, it did mean the rows didn't start until a good ten minutes into the day. Fleur had definitely been a bit jumpy at Christmas, but with the house full of the children's friends, there had been no opportunity to talk to her about it. Thus it was very nice to have this time alone together.

‘Mm, thanks, Mum.'

This didn't look like a good moment. Fleur was not a morning person, but she seemed less so than ever today.

‘Tired?'

Fleur nodded.

Nel bit her lip. She often wondered if, being a single parent, she worried for two, but she couldn't help herself. ‘But you will get that essay done?'

‘Mum! I told you! Don't worry. I'm going to see Jamie,
but I will do it, although I don't think it's fair them giving us one so near the beginning of term.'

‘Your exams are coming up, and Jamie lives in London.'

‘I know that. I do have his address, you know,' she added irritably. ‘In case you've forgotten, I stay there practically every weekend.'

Nel turned away from her daughter's sarcasm and put the kettle on. She had not forgotten that Fleur spent all her weekends in London, and she hoped that Fleur had not forgotten that she had promised Nel faithfully that she wouldn't leave the house until the essay was done. Nel had never been the sort of parent who could now have said, ‘You're not leaving this house until that essay is written, young lady! And don't you smart-mouth me!' She had relied on good sense and explanation from a very early age, telling her more critical friends that you can only be the sort of parent you are. You can't pretend to be strict and decisive if you're not. Simon found this particularly hard to grasp.

‘Sweetheart,' she began. ‘You did agree—'

‘Yes! And I'll do it! Now stop nagging . . .!'

‘If you think that's nagging . . .!'

‘No, I know it's not nagging, but it is early in the morning and I'm not a morning person.'

‘It's not that early. I've seen the printer about getting leaflets and petition forms printed, shopped and walked the dogs.'

‘But you're a lark. I'm an owl. No, Villette, you can't get up. I'm too tired to cuddle you. And you, Shirley.' The dogs retreated to their bed, where they arranged themselves in layers.

Nel kissed her daughter's cheek before releasing the
croissants from their wrapper and putting them in the oven. ‘Shall I clear the table for you to work on? Or will you do it in your room?'

‘It's all right, Mum, I'll do it in the sitting room.'

‘While watching television, I presume.'

Fleur smiled. ‘That's right. Have we got any cherry jam?'

Nel searched the fridge for the appropriate jar, aware that it was not Fleur's homework she was worrying about. She always did get it in on time, somehow. Nor was Nel concerned about Jamie. Although she had yet to meet him (‘Like he'd want to come down here, Mum!'), she felt moderately happy with the relationship, having spoken to his mother on the phone once when Fleur had left her mobile at home. It was what Simon had said about young women taking drugs that was forming a knot of anxiety in her subconscious.

When he had first brought the subject up, she had dismissed it as one of Simon's things. But although at the time she'd sworn she'd know if her daughter took drugs, in her heart she wasn't so certain. How would she know? How would she recognise the signs if she didn't know what the signs were? If only there was some sort of sensor you could tape to their foreheads which would flash if they took anything untoward. Failing that, she wished her eldest son was at home. He and Fleur were very close and she might tell him things she wouldn't tell her mother. Although she and Fleur had an intimate and loving relationship, her children did protect Nel from things they thought would worry her.

‘No cherry. What about raspberry?' Nel said eventually, having collected a little clutch of jars, the contents
of which would have looked very interesting under a microscope.

‘As long as it's red.' Fleur got up. ‘Can you bring them in when they're ready? I'll get my school bag.'

‘I spoil you, you know that?'

‘I know. But you like it, really.'

Later, once Fleur had written, but not typed the essay, Nel drove her to the bus station.

‘You won't miss the bus back on Sunday, will you? You can't miss school now.'

‘Mum, have I ever missed the bus?'

‘Not yet, I'm just making sure you don't. I'm a bit worried about you seeing so much of Jamie when I haven't met him.'

‘You'd like him, Mum, really you would. It's just there's nothing to do down here.'

Nel refrained from mentioning beautiful countryside to ramble in, ancient buildings to admire, and the general calming effect of nature. After all, it was still winter.

‘Well, ask him if he'll come and stay with you. It's not right that it's always you schlepping up to London all the time. He should spend a few hours on a bus and spend all his allowance!'

‘I'll suggest it, but I don't expect he'll want to come. There are no good clubs here.'

‘There are clubs in Bristol!' Nel remembered only too well her anxiety when her sons had started going to them.

‘Not like London clubs. Now don't worry, Mum, I'll be fine. I do know how to look after myself.'

‘I rather hoped that Jamie was looking after you.'

‘Mum! You're so old-fashioned! How's your love life, by the way?'

‘You mean Simon?' Nel deliberately misunderstood her daughter.

‘No. I mean the man who kissed you under the mistletoe.'

‘He's not my love life, he was suffering from a momentary aberration, and I've since discovered that he's the spawn of the devil. Now, what time is your bus?'

It was only on her way home that Nel realised yet again that Fleur had changed the subject to get her mother off her case. She decided to ring Sam at university, something she didn't often do.

‘Hi, Mum, what's up?' he said, after he had been fetched, leaving Nel listening to several sorts of music for a good five minutes.

‘It's Fleur, have you seen her lately? In London, I mean?'

‘Well, she and I don't like the same music, so no, basically.'

‘But do you know which clubs she and Jamie go to?'

‘Not really. Why?'

‘I'm just a bit worried about her. There's something not quite right. I'm worried she might be taking drugs or something.'

‘Oh Mum!'

‘It's a perfectly legitimate concern. She spends all that time in London, and I've never met Jamie.'

‘He's a perfectly nice guy,' Sam said soothingly.

‘I'm sure. I just don't know anything about him, and you know me, I worry.'

‘At Olympic standard, Mum.'

‘No one's offering me a medal. But that's not the point. What I'm asking is, can you find out where she and Jamie go, and then if they're the sorts of places where you can get drugs.'

‘You can get drugs everywhere.'

‘Don't tell me that! But some places must be worse than others, don't you think?'

‘I suppose so. Actually, Mum, while you're on, you couldn't send me a cheque, could you? The electricity bill's come in, and it's mega.'

Nel sighed. ‘All right.'

‘I'll pay you back in the holidays, when I'm working.'

‘That's OK. Just find out where Fleur goes, will you?'

Although she usually avoided telling Simon about any problems she had with her children, when he took her to a local pub for a meal that night, she found herself discussing Fleur.

‘I know I said I'd know if she was taking drugs, but then I realised that I probably wouldn't. The parents never do, in these cases you read about in the paper.'

Simon picked a mussel out of its shell. ‘It would be easier if you didn't let her spend so much time in London.'

‘I know it would, but Jamie's there, and although I keep suggesting he comes to stay with us, she says there's nothing to do down here. And I suppose there isn't much, for young people.'

‘You could ground her.'

‘No, I couldn't. I've never been that kind of parent, I can't start now. Besides, I've never known how you do grounding – I mean, you tell children they can't go
out, but if they decide to disobey you, how do you prevent them?'

‘You stop their allowance or something. Other parents seem to manage it.'

‘Yes, but it's different for us.' By now she was thoroughly regretting bringing up the subject of Fleur and her love life. ‘Good mussels?'

‘Excellent. How's your salad?'

‘That's very nice, too. Have you got any news about the development, how the plans are going? You realise I want you to tell me that it's all going pear-shaped, and no council on earth would allow people to build on those meadows.'

‘Can't oblige, I'm afraid,' said Simon, his mouth full of French bread. ‘Although, to be fair, I haven't heard information to the contrary, either. These things take time, even after outline permission has been granted.'

‘That's a relief.' Nel folded a leaf of lollo rosso and pushed it into her mouth. ‘It'll give me plenty of time to galvanise people.'

‘You may not get as much support as you think, and it's unlikely to do any good anyway. Councils have targets for new housing they have to meet. They're not going to turn down anything they can possibly accept.'

‘I'm not against houses, just houses there! Apart from the hospice, it's such a wonderful local resource. And there's the wildlife.'

‘That may be so, but people need houses, and ultimately people are more important than newts and frogs.'

‘We don't know that,' said Nel, who had had a couple of glasses of wine. ‘We don't know that newts and frogs might not be all that stands between us and total decimation.'

Simon raised an eyebrow. ‘I think we do, Nel.'

‘Even so, I can't just stand by and let it happen. Even if I fail, I've got to give it my best shot, otherwise every time I saw them, I'd feel guilty.'

‘You feel guilty about too many things, you know.'

‘Women do. It's to do with having oestrogen.'

‘You're a funny little thing sometimes, Nelly.'

There were times when Nel quite liked being a funny little thing, but now, probably because she was worried, she'd have preferred Simon to tell her she was strong and independent, and could move mountains if she put her mind to it.

‘Are you going to have pudding?' she asked.

‘What, after my steak? I shouldn't think so. Why?'

‘I just wanted to have a bit of it, that's all.'

‘Why not have one of your own?'

‘Because I don't want a whole one.' Nel suddenly wished she hadn't chosen her meal with her diet in mind. She yearned for a spoonful of sticky toffee pudding, or banoffie pie. In some ways Simon was an unsatisfactory eating companion. He just didn't like food enough.

It was a week later and Nel had just come in from taking her dogs for their pre-bedtime walk, when Sam phoned. ‘I've done that bit of espionage you wanted, Mum.'

‘Espionage? I thought you were doing media studies?'

‘Twit. No, I've found out where Fleur and Jamie hang out. It's a club called Chill. Not my sort of music at all.'

‘I don't care about the music, what about the drugs?'

‘I told you, the drugs are the same all over, pretty much.'

‘Wretched child! I mean, is it particularly bad for
them? Does everyone who goes there take them?'

‘Mum, if you think Fleur's taking drugs, why don't you just ask her?'

‘She'd be so insulted if she isn't, and I'd be so devastated if she is. Besides, she might not tell me. I'd rather find out first, and then decide how to deal with it.'

‘It's up to you. Let me know if you want me to come with you, or anything,' Sam said patiently.

‘Come with me where?'

‘To the club. If you need to go there, you don't want to go by yourself.'

‘Oh, God! I'd never thought of that!'

‘I really think you're worrying unnecessarily, Mum.'

‘But you always do think that.'

‘And ninety-nine times out of a hundred, I'm right. But I'll tell you what, I'll ask around and if I hear anything I think you need to know, I'll tell you. OK?'