Staverton (3 page)

The cottage appeared far larger from the inside, probably because it was so sparsely furnished. There were two old-fashioned armchairs and a small two-seater sofa arranged around the fireplace. There was no TV.

We heard the dog before we saw it. It whined pitifully.

“Sorry about that,” Freddie said. “It’s Bert. I put him in my bedroom because I wasn’t sure you were keen on dogs, and I thought Bert jumping up and slobbering all over you would be the last thing you’d want.”

“It’s fine. I like dogs.”

Freddie brought Bert, a black Labrador, into the living room to meet us. Despite Freddie’s warnings, the dog behaved impeccably, allowing Miss Richards and me to pet him and make a fuss over him before he settled down on the floor next to my feet.

Freddie moved over to the kitchen area, which was pretty small, consisting of two worktops with the oven, fridge and washing machine fitted underneath. I couldn’t see a microwave or dishwasher.

Freddie opened the cupboard in front of him and pulled out three mugs. “Tea? Coffee?”

Both Miss Richards and I said we’d like tea, and Miss Richards asked if she could use Freddie’s bathroom.

After telling Miss Richards where to find the bathroom, Freddie lined up the mugs on the counter, and turned them so all the handles faced the same way. Then he turned to look at me and leaned back against the kitchen counter.

I smiled at him and tried to think of something to say. “I’m sorry about this. I guess the last thing you want is a teenager hanging around.”

Freddie’s bushy eyebrows shot up, and he tilted his head as if he were trying to read me, but I stood up and moved toward the window.

“Look,” Freddie said. “I know this isn’t easy for you, but I’m glad to have you here. I wish I’d made more of an effort to keep in touch.”

I folded my arms and peered out of the window. “Not much around. No shops?”

“It’s about a thirty-minute walk to the village.”

The kettle clicked off as it came to the boil, and Freddie busied himself, making the tea. Unobserved, I took another look around the room. I thought the house could do with a woman’s touch. I couldn’t see so much as a rug or cushion to brighten the place up, but it wasn’t a typical bachelor’s pad either. It was too clean and tidy for that.

I pulled off my raincoat and laid it on one of the armchairs. While I looked out of the rain-splattered window, Freddie walked over from the kitchen, picked up my coat and hung it up on a hook by the front door, muttering something about “keeping things shipshape.”

I flushed and looked down at my wet footprints on the floor.

When Miss Richards came back into the room, Freddie and I were sitting down sipping our hot cups of tea. Miss Richards sat on the sofa next to me. “I see you two are getting on already.”

I nodded and took another sip of tea.

“Now, you had some questions earlier, Lucy. If your uncle doesn’t mind, I think it is a good idea if we try to answer them now.”

Freddie looked up from his tea. “I don’t mind.”

“Lucy?” Miss Richards prompted.

“I wanted to go back home...” I began, and then my voice wobbled.

Freddie reached across and patted me on the shoulder. “Ah, I see. It is perfectly understandable. Trouble is, the house has been repossessed by the bank. Apparently, the mortgage was in arrears.”

“Will it be sold?”

“Aye. It will. They’ll sell the house, but it was heavily mortgaged, and I don’t think there will be much left once the bills have been paid.”

“So I don’t have any money? What about all my stuff I left at home?”

“It will be put in storage. Your belongings and your parents’. We can have it sent up here when you’re ready.”

I nodded. My life had changed so much in the last twelve hours. I had thought to ask Uncle Freddie if he would pay my school fees for my last year at St. Catherine’s if I promised to pay him back after I’d been to university. But I could see now there was no point, he wouldn’t have that kind of money to spare. I wouldn’t be going back to school.

It was getting dark when Miss Richards left in her mud-covered car. I watched from the window and saw Miss Richards wave as she drove off down the hill. I raised my hand to wave. I felt like running after her, but I just watched the car’s brake-lights get smaller and smaller until they disappeared.

Freddie collected the mugs and carried them to the kitchen. “Fancy another cup?”

I shook my head. I sat on the edge of the sofa as Freddie washed the mugs, wondering whether I should bring up the matter of the funeral.

“Why don’t I show you your room? Then you can get settled,” Freddie said as he dried his hands on a tea towel. He flung the towel over his shoulder. “It’s just through here.”

The room was small and spotless. The walls were painted white, like the rest of the cottage, and the furniture consisted of a bed, a small pine wardrobe, a chest of drawers and an old rocking chair.

Freddie pointed to the chair. “I got this cleaned up, thought you might like it. I wanted to make it comfy for you, but...” Freddie shrugged. “I’m not really sure what it is girls like to have in their bedrooms these days.”

“No, it’s great.” I turned a slow circle. “Really. I appreciate you doing all this.”

“Well, I thought maybe we could get some pictures or something. You know, to brighten it up a bit, make you feel more at home?”

“Yeah. That would be nice,” I said.

“Are you hungry? I’ve made some stew for dinner. There’s enough for two.”

“Actually, Freddie, I really... I really want to have an early night, if that’s okay?”

“Oh, of course it is, sure. Is there anything else you need? I put towels in the bottom drawer of the chest, and the bathroom is the room next to yours.”

“Thanks.”

Freddie hovered by the door. “Well, if there’s nothing else you need, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Um, Freddie, there is something I should probably tell you.” I looked up and saw Freddie waiting for me to explain. I took a deep breath.

“I sleepwalk sometimes. I mean hardly ever, but usually it is when I’m stressed, or worried about something, so I thought I should tell you in case...”

“In case I find you wandering around in the middle of the night?”

“Yes,” I said and gave a half-hearted smile.

Freddie looked out of the bedroom window, toward the cliffs and the black, churning sea. “Have you ever gone outside when you’ve been sleepwalking?”

“Not that I remember.”

“I’ll put the top bolt across the front door just in case.”

After Freddie left me, I put my pyjamas on and slipped under the covers without bothering to wash my face or clean my teeth, and alone at last, I cried into my pillow.

***

Freddie, sitting at the table with a bowl of beef stew and a thick slice of bread in front of him, heard Lucy’s muffled sobs. He didn’t know if he should go and comfort her, or let her cry. She made it clear she wanted to be alone, but the sound of her sobbing was heart-breaking.

He had no appetite for the stew now. He took one last bite and took the bowl to the kitchen. He switched the radio on while he washed up the dishes. He couldn’t hear her crying anymore, but that didn’t make him feel any better. He sighed, and for the millionth time in the last couple of days, he wished he’d been better at keeping in touch with his brother.

They hadn’t had any big falling out, no argument. They just had nothing in common, no common thread to hold them together after their mother passed away ten years ago. If only he’d made more of an effort, gotten to know his brother again, he would have seen Lucy growing up and been a part of her life. Or at least she wouldn’t have seen him as a complete stranger.

Freddie left the dishes drying on the rack and reached in the cupboard for the dog food. “Hey, dinner time, Bert,” Freddie said, emptying the can into Bert’s red bowl.

As the dog nuzzled his leg, Freddie scratched the dog’s ears. “It’s not just me and you anymore, Bert. Now we’ve got to look out for her, too.”

Chapter 3

The following morning, I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and cringed. I looked awful. I splashed cold water on my red, sore eyes, but it didn’t help much. I could hear Freddie moving about in the kitchen and guessed he had been up for a while.

I rested my head against the wall for a moment, trying to collect myself before I saw him. We needed to talk about the funeral today.

When I entered the room, he didn’t notice me at first. He was too busy stirring a pot, containing something that looked suspiciously like porridge.

“Morning.”

“Good morning. Did you sleep all right?” he asked.

“Fine, thanks,” I said and stuffed my hands in the pockets of my jeans.

“I was about to have breakfast,” he said. “Pull up a chair.” He nodded at the small table, where he had laid out two bowls and two spoons.

I took a seat and thanked him as he ladled out a hefty portion of the grey porridge into the bowl in front of me.

Freddie sat opposite me and started to eat the porridge with relish. It took him a minute until he realised I was not as keen as he was.

“You’re not a fan of porridge?”

I moved the grey, lumpy liquid around the bowl with my spoon. “Not really.”

I didn’t like porridge, but with sugar added, I could have forced it down, but this was worse than I’d expected: it was salty.

“I’ll do you a spot of toast,” Freddie said and started to leave the table.

“No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”

Freddie sat back down and frowned. “I thought porridge was a safe bet. I thought you’d turn your nose up at kippers.”

“Kippers?” I screwed up my face.

Freddie sighed. “So what do you normally have for breakfast?”

I flushed and pushed the bowl of porridge away from me. “Coco Pops.”

“The kid’s cereal?”

“I like them.”

Freddie went to say something, then stopped. He nodded. “I’ll get some next time I go shopping.”

I took the dishes to the kitchen and washed them. I looked out of the kitchen window and wondered how Freddie put up with the isolation.

It wasn’t going well. I wanted to talk to him like an adult, to talk about what we needed to do for the funeral, and more than anything else, I didn’t want to get in the way. But I must be already getting on his nerves.

I couldn’t discuss things with him yet. I needed to clear my head.

“I think I’ll go for a walk, if that’s okay?” I said.

Freddie crouched in front of the washing machine and started to unload it. “If you wait a couple of minutes, I’ll come with you. I need to hang out the washing first.”

“I, um... I really wanted to be on my own for a little while. To clear my head, you know?”

Freddie frowned. “Okay. Well, don’t go too close to the cliffs.” He paused for a moment, then jerked his head towards Bert, who was lying on a rug in front of the sofa. “Why don’t you take Bert? He could do with a walk.”

“Okay.”

“I need to go to work soon, at the garage. Brian is holding the fort for me, but I’ve got an MOT scheduled at eleven. Will you be all right on your own?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said and called Bert over to me.

Bert seemed delighted to be outside. He jumped up and circled around me, making me feel dizzy. After a few minutes, he picked up on my mood and was content to trot along companionably by my side.

As soon as I was out of sight of the house, I sat down on the wet grass and put my head in my hands. At first Bert tried nudging my hands and putting a paw on my knee. When that didn’t get a response, he resigned himself to the fact the walk was over and rested his head on my thigh, gazing up at me with soft brown eyes.

I patted Bert’s head and looked down the hill towards Eversleigh. The weather was brighter today, and the sea was more blue than grey. It might be isolated up here, but maybe Freddie thought the stunning scenery made up for the lack of shops and people.

From here, I could see the harbour and the line of terraced houses clearly, and I could just about make out the pub. I wondered whether I should make my way down there, but then thought better of it. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

***

Four days later, I returned to England for the funeral. I wanted people to come back to my parent’s house after the service, and Freddie tried to arrange it, but the bank legally owned the property now. We ended up booking a reception room in a hotel.

Freddie had been brilliant, he organized the funeral and contacted all the people I suggested might want to attend.

I surveyed the room. I felt my parents would have been pleased with the turnout. A huge number of friends and acquaintances attended the funeral, and many of them came back to the hotel. Most of them, I had never seen before, which reinforced the idea there was a great deal I hadn’t known about my parents’ lives. Everyone had been tactful, and no one mentioned my parents’ financial difficulties.

I did recognize some of the guests. Mr. and Mrs. Prince, who had lived next door to my parents for the past ten years, came to pay their respects. I appreciated their kindness, but when Mrs. Prince’s eyes had watered as she said how unfair it was for me to be robbed of my parents at such a young age, I quickly excused myself.

I had been able to keep my tears under control over the past couple of days, and I could handle it as long as no one was nice to me, which was a problem today. If I saw anyone else getting tearful, it set me off. Everyone was very concerned and asked what I planned to do next. I promptly introduced them to Freddie and let him do the talking.

I watched him tugging at his shirt collar as he stood alone next to the window. He must be hating this. Not that anyone actually enjoyed funerals, but he was used to his own company, and having to talk to people about his brother and act the host obviously didn’t come easily to him. He held a glass of whiskey, but I hadn’t seen him eat anything yet. I picked up a plate and loaded it with sandwiches.

“Lucy!”

I looked up at the sound of Caroline Harrington’s voice. Seeing Caroline walking towards me with her red curls bouncing, I smiled, put down the plate and enveloped my friend in a hug. “It is so good to see you, Caroline.”