When You Walked Back Into My Life (18 page)

*

The following morning, Mary and Flora stood leaning against the work surface in the kitchen, drinking their tea.

‘Tell me, then. Which man did you go for in the end? A or B?’

Flora laughed. ‘“A” I suppose … the old boyfriend.’

‘So what was it made him “old” in the first place?’

‘Oh, you know … just the usual. We were together eight years before we … split up. Anyway, he’s just moved in. Last week.’

Mary’s eyes widened. ‘Whoa, fast worker, you!’

‘Not really … sort of taking up where we left off.’

‘And this fella’s the one is he?’

‘I hope so,’ Flora heard the hesitation in her voice. Even now that Fin had moved in, it seemed unreal, almost like a game.

‘Where’s the rest of your stuff?’ Flora had asked him, as she surveyed the small pile on the sitting-room floor – including one backpack, one medium holdall and a
cardboard box containing his boots and some climbing gear – that represented Fin’s possessions.

‘That’s it,’ Fin had grinned. ‘You know me, always travel light.’

They had stood, then, just looking at each other. She thought his eyes seemed to be gauging her mood, checking perhaps if he was really welcome. She had moved towards him, put her arms around him. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’ She had almost said I love you, but the words, which she had yet to speak out loud, seemed too weighted, too significant.

That was over a week ago now, and he had settled in as if he’d never been away. When she went off to work every morning, he walked her to the bus stop. When she came home at night, he had cooked supper. She looked forward to seeing him when she left work, anticipating the evening ahead like an excited child. But it was also true that his presence seemed very big in the small space, almost caged, as if he were waiting to burst out. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long before they could make other arrangements.

‘Well, I’m dead jealous. But you never know, perhaps we’ll make a double wedding of it. You with yer man A, me and the dishy Dr Kent.’

Flora laughed. ‘Yeah, why not? Look forward to it.’

*

‘What did you do today?’ she asked when she got home a couple of evenings later.

‘Oh, you know. Nothing much.’ He looked tired.

This was always what Fin said when she asked, but this time she didn’t let it go.

‘What, though?’

He looked up from the map he’d been studying.

‘Why the third degree? Are you worried I’m becoming a layabout?’ His smile seemed forced.

‘No, of course not.’

He bent his head to the map again.

‘Fin? What’s the matter?’

For a moment he seemed to ignore her, then he raised his head. ‘If you really want to know, I don’t do a damn thing. Absolutely fucking nothing. I watch crap TV, I go to the shops, I doze on the sofa. I sometimes walk, but mostly my fucking leg hurts like hell if I go too far. I wait. For you.’ His tone was verging on the desperate, the expression in his eyes pained.

She sat down beside him. ‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to needle you.’

‘OK …’

‘Your leg’s getting better, isn’t it?’

He sighed. ‘I don’t know any more. Some days I think it is, then I have days when it hurts more than it did before.
And they keep changing their minds about what the problem is and what they should do about it.’

She put her arm round him. He didn’t shake her off, but he didn’t respond, and for a moment they just sat there in silence. She realised her heart was beating fast.

‘Say something, Fin.’

Still he was silent. She felt his body tense beneath her touch. Then he turned to her.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you, Flo. But I hate hate
hate
being cooped up like this. I’m going mad.’

‘What did they say at the hospital?’

‘Nothing. As usual. Now they just want me to be patient while they monitor the pins. They say it’s inflammation which’ll settle down eventually.’

‘Should you see someone else? Get a second opinion?’

‘No point. Listen, Flo … I’m thinking of going up to Scotland for a few days … check on Dad’s house. Will you come with me?’

Flora was just about to say that she couldn’t, when she stopped herself. She hadn’t had a holiday for months.

‘OK,’ she said slowly. ‘OK, why not? I’ll talk to Mary.’

Fin’s face lifted. ‘Brilliant! That’s wonderful. We could drive up.’

‘Except we don’t have a car.’

‘Good point.’

‘We could take the train, hire something up there.’

‘Dad had an old Vauxhall that I left with Jimmy, the neighbour. We could use that.’

‘It’ll be freezing,’ she said, a broad smile on her face.

‘Brass monkeys,’ he agreed, laughing as he gathered her to him. ‘It’ll be brilliant … just to get out of London, get away from here.’ He bent to kiss her. ‘Scotland, just the two of us. Bliss. When can we go?’

*

That Saturday, as Flora was coming up the steps onto the pavement, Philip and Bel were standing beside their car, a black Audi. Bel, who looked unusually subdued, came up to Flora at once and gave her a hug.

‘Hi Flora,’ Philip said. ‘You haven’t forgotten it’s Prue’s birthday next weekend?’ he asked.

‘No … no, I haven’t forgotten.’

The three of them looked at each other in silence, none of them wanting to be the one to mention the problem.

‘She didn’t want a big drama this year,’ Philip went on. ‘So we’re just doing Nobu. Eight on Saturday.’

‘Great.’

Bel was silent, scuffing her boots on the pavement.

‘Should be fun.’ Philip’s voice was leaden, more as if he were selling tickets to a public hanging than dinner at one of the most up-market restaurants in London. He must have
heard himself, because he laughed and added, ‘No, really. It should be. Food’s fabulous.’

‘Is Fin asked?’ Flora finally put the question, speaking softly, worried that Prue might overhear in the building behind; Fin was out at physio.

Bel pulled a face. ‘Dad?’

‘Well …’ Philip puffed his cheeks out, exhaling his breath in a sharp burst of air. ‘Let’s look at it from both angles.’ He pushed them down the street a way, until they were out of earshot. ‘If he comes and they behave as they did the other night, it will be hell for everyone. However, if we don’t ask him, are we setting a precedent?’

‘Perhaps we could ask him next time? Just not for Mum’s birthday?’ Bel looked apologetically at Flora. ‘Sort of start the precedent later.’

Flora didn’t know how to respond. She was with the other two, in that she had no desire to struggle through an evening of phoney civility, covert jibes, tension – and expensive tension at that; Nobu’s prices were extortionate in her opinion. But Fin, as her partner, had a right to be asked.

‘God make me good but not yet, you mean.’ Philip was smiling at his daughter. ‘I don’t know. I think, on balance, we probably should ask him. If we don’t, things will never have a chance to get any better between them.’

‘Or between me and Prue.’

Her brother-in-law nodded. ‘Yes, there’s that too.’

‘Mum’s not angry with you, Flora. Just Fin, for coming back.’

Philip raised an eyebrow. ‘Not quite true, darling. I think Mum
is
angry with Flora for taking him back, as much as she is about him being here.’

Flora threw her arms in the air. ‘But what can I do? Short of breaking off with the man I love, I can’t see how to pacify her.’

They both looked at her sympathetically, but neither came up with any suggestions.

‘And don’t say she’ll come round. I’m sick of hearing that.’ Her voice rose in frustration.

‘I’m sure you are. But the truth is she probably will.’

‘Whatever.’ Flora knew she sounded like a sulky teenager. ‘So … your professional advice is to ask him and hope for a light sentence?’

‘Yup,’ Philip replied with an encouraging grin. ‘That’ll be two thousand pounds please.’

‘Cheque’s in the post.’

*

‘I’m not bloody coming to your sister’s birthday just to be her whipping boy. Forget it. Not going to happen.’

Flora had met up with Fin at the supermarket after his physio appointment. He looked flushed and exhausted, gulping from a bottle of water as they walked along the aisles.

‘So you want to be left out of all family gatherings, despite the fact that we live together now?’

Fin twisted his mouth, wiping his hand back over his unruly hair, still damp with sweat.

‘No, but what’s in it for me? She’ll just give me the ice-queen treatment; Philip will make jolly conversation about suicidal sopranos while treating me like one of his defective clients; Bel will look tortured. What’s the point? They all loathe me.’

Flora stopped pushing the trolley and turned to face him. ‘The point is that they’re my family … for better or worse. And at some stage you and Prue are going to have to make it up.’

‘Tell
her
that. I have no problem with any of them. It’s her who’s digging her heels in.’

They stood looking at each other for a moment.

‘Anyway,’ Fin went on, ‘I don’t have any clothes to wear. You can’t go to some poncey gaff in a ten-year-old T-shirt and frayed jeans.’

Flora laughed. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Nobu’s kind of rich international blingy types: Russian oligarchs, Saudi princes … they often wear jeans.’

‘Yeah, designer ones, with a naff crease down the front and a pink sweater tied over their shoulders.’

‘Can’t wait to see you dressed like that!’

They both began to laugh.

‘But seriously, you could go to the charity shop on Notting Hill Gate and pick up a good shirt for a fiver.’

Fin pulled a face. ‘Loathe charity shops. They smell of old people.’

‘Don’t be cruel. Anyway, there aren’t any old people in Notting Hill, except the rich, scented variety.’

She began pushing the trolley again and they walked in silence.

‘Please … please come. I don’t want a situation where Prue thinks it’s OK to leave you out of everything.’ She picked a couple of tins of plum tomatoes off the shelf. ‘I don’t want to go on my own.’

Fin harrumphed. ‘OK. I’ll come. But I’m warning you that I’m not going to make nice if she starts to pick on me. I don’t care if it’s her birthday, I’ll just get up and leave.’

‘And the shirt? I’ll come with you if you like. We can go after this.’

‘If I must,’ he gave her a grin as he pulled her against him and ran his hand down over her bottom, bending to kiss her on the lips.

‘Stop it,’ she hissed, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, looking to see if anyone had noticed.

‘Relax, Flo. Nobody’s looking.’

He held on tight, kissing her again, a deliberately long and lingering one.

31 October

‘So. I spoke to Dominic. And he says the sewing table had water damage along the back. That’s what made it sell for so little.’

‘Water damage?’

‘Did you notice it? All along the back panel, he said. It was quite badly warped.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t look at it closely. He never mentioned that at the time. But it was crammed by the window, so I suppose, if someone left the window open, it could have got wet. He took it so suddenly …’

She heard Rene give one of her long-suffering sighs on the other end of the phone.

‘I wish you’d stopped him. I could have checked it myself.’

‘I can’t really challenge him,’ Flora replied, stung by the criticism.

‘No, no. Of course not. I didn’t mean to get at you, Flora. I just don’t like him making off with her things like that.’

‘Maybe there
was
water damage?’

‘Maybe. Anyway, there’s not a lot I can do about it.’

‘Unless there’s proof,’ Flora said.

‘Unless, as you say, there’s proof.’ There was another heavy sigh. ‘Tell me about Dorothea. How is she today?’

*

The shirt that they’d found in the charity shop was a Ralph Lauren. It appeared to be almost new: a fine, soft cotton, very pale blue with a button-down collar.

‘You look great,’ she said, as Fin emerged from the bedroom looking self-conscious.

‘Well, I feel a dick,’ he said, pulling at the sleeve to do the cuff button up.

‘Why? It’s just a shirt.’ Flora had also tried to persuade him into a pair of black trousers in the charity shop, but they were way too short for his long legs. He had on his newer pair of jeans now, the bottoms of which were not yet frayed.

He finished doing the button up and suddenly noticed Flora. ‘Wow! You look stunning.’

She smiled shyly. It was only the black dress again, but Fin hadn’t seen it before.

‘Are we sharing a taxi with them?’

‘No, they’ve gone on earlier. Philip’s taking Prue to the new cocktail bar at Brasserie Zédel. I think we’re all hoping if she downs a couple of martinis it’ll grease the wheels.’

When they arrived at the restaurant, the other three were already there. Philip got up when he saw them and pulled out the chair next to him for Flora.

‘Happy Birthday,’ Fin said to Prue as Flora bent to kiss her sister.

‘Thanks.’ Prue eyed them both up and down. ‘You look smart.’ The surprised note in her voice wasn’t entirely flattering.

The swarm of chic, grey-uniformed staff hovered around them, pouring water, swishing napkins onto knees, handing menus.

‘How was the journey?’ Philip asked, a look of concern on his face as if they’d trekked from Outer Mongolia to be there.

‘Fine, we got the bus.’

Silence.

‘Great.’

Bel’s head was buried in the menu.

‘What’ll you both have to drink?’ Philip again.

‘What have you got?’ Flora asked her sister, checking out the pink, fizzy concoction in her tall glass. ‘Looks good.’

Prue waved her glass at her. ‘It’s delicious … have a taste.’

‘Love the necklace,’ Fin smiled charmingly at her sister, who patted her new necklace lovingly.

Prue had obviously had enough alcohol to make her forget she should be cross with him, and she smiled back. ‘Can’t go wrong with Tiffany. I love every single thing in that shop.’

‘Pity I didn’t know that earlier,’ Philip said. ‘I’d have settled on a key-ring and saved myself a whole heap of money.’