When You Walked Back Into My Life (19 page)

Prue pouted at him. ‘Meanie. No one sees a key-ring.’

‘I’ll have your Ralph Lauren one then, Mum.’ Bel giggled as she sucked her Coke through a straw.

‘In your dreams.’ Prue looked at Fin. ‘But I see Mr McCrea has upped his game and gone for a touch of Ralph himself this evening.’

Fin looked down at his shirt. ‘Like it? Cost a fortune.’

‘Yes. Suits you. You look quite handsome.’

Is she flirting with him? Flora caught the look that passed between Prue and Fin with disbelief.

‘The climbing industry must be doing well,’ her sister added.

‘That, or the charity shop business,’ Fin replied, and they all laughed.

‘So far, so good,’ Bel said, as she and Flora made their way to the Ladies’ later.

‘I know. Not quite what I expected.’

‘Mum’s drunk.’

‘That doesn’t always make her so benign.’

‘True. And it may not last.’

Bel was right, it didn’t. When they got back to the table, the three were sitting in total silence. And it wasn’t a companionable silence; each face was rigid and constrained.

‘Pudding anyone?’ Philip asked, waving the dessert menu at his daughter. ‘Bel?’

‘Er … I’m OK Dad.’

‘What? Not even an ice cream?’ her father cajoled her, but she shook her head.

‘Couldn’t.’

Prue wasn’t even looking at the menu, just fiddling with her BlackBerry – a rudeness at table that Flora knew she abhorred, and was always nagging Bel and Philip about.

Fin suddenly got up. ‘I think we should get going Flo.’

But before she had a chance to respond, a waiter appeared, phalanxed by three more, bearing a plate with an exquisite meringue cake, decorated with delicate sprays of fruit, candles lit in a circle around the centre. As he placed the cake in front of Prue, all four waiters began to sing ‘Happy Birthday’.

Flora wished the floor would swallow them all up, but she’d underestimated her sister. Prue’s expression was instantly transformed to one of surprised delight. She held her hands clasped before her like a child, her eyes sparkled, she beamed at the waiter and his pals, at the family round the table, as if this was the most thrilling moment of her life. The rest of them joined in weakly, sheepishly – even Fin, who had no option but to sit down again. Flora kicked him under the table to get his attention, but he just shot her a blank look.

Prue blew the candles out and handed the cake back to the waiter to cut up.

‘Thank you so much. How wonderful. It looks completely delicious,’ she crooned. But as soon as the table staff had moved away, her face shut down again.

‘Lucky we didn’t order pudding,’ Philip said.

‘Well, presumably you knew they were bringing a cake.’

Philip looked at his wife, raising his eyebrows just a fraction. ‘I didn’t, actually. Darcy booked.’

‘Who’s Darcy?’ Bel asked.

‘The woman whose house your mother’s doing up. She’s friends with the owner of Nobu and got us the table at the last minute. Normally you have to book months in advance,’ Philip told her.

The cake was served. They ate in silence. Prue didn’t even
touch hers. Flora struggled with a few mouthfuls, but the atmosphere turned the feather-light meringue to dust in her mouth.

Prue suddenly pushed her chair back, gathered her bag from the floor. ‘I’ll meet you downstairs,’ she said, and swept out of the room.

Once they were out on the pavement, Fin offered an abrupt thank you to Philip, nodded good night to Bel, and, grabbing Flora’s arm, dragged her off down the street towards Piccadilly.

‘Bitch,’ Fin muttered, still clutching her arm. ‘She waited till you and Bel weren’t there, then just laid into me.’

‘What did she say?’

‘Usual snippy bollocks … “Why can’t you just leave my sister alone … you’re just using her because it’s convenient … as soon as your bloody leg is OK, you’ll be off, breaking her heart again … she’s totally in thrall to you, you realise that, don’t you, so it has to be me who speaks out … she never will.” That’s what she said.’

Flora, appalled, digested this for a moment. ‘That’s … horrible,’ she said, subdued.

‘Flo, we should just get away. Bugger your sodding job, I can’t stay another night under that woman’s roof. She sees me as some ligger, taking advantage of you, and you’re my poor abused victim. I just can’t stand the sight of her.’

‘Calm down, please, Fin. We can’t just leave—’

He interrupted her. ‘Why not? Why can’t we? The old lady will be fine. If you were ill she’d have to find another nurse. Say you’re ill, just leave. We could get an early morning train and be out of here for ever. Sod your fucking sister.’

Flora pulled him to a standstill. They were outside the RAF Club on Piccadilly, in amongst the tourists milling round the Hard Rock Café on the corner. She pushed him to the side, against the railings.

‘Fin, I am not leaving my job. And I am not just walking out on my family.’

He stared at her coldly. ‘OK. Well, I guess that tells me. Your sister’s never going to accept me, so if they’re more important to you than I am, then I don’t reckon we’ve got much of a future together.’

Flora felt her heart lurch uncomfortably in her chest. ‘Stop it. Don’t say that. You know how I feel about you.’

‘Do I? Do I really? I say I love you a hundred times a day, but you haven’t said it once. Not once. You’ve said you’re “committed” to me, but that’s not the same at all. Do you love me, Flo?
Do
you?’

A couple walked past, the man eyeing them curiously. She stared him down and he turned away.

She swallowed hard. ‘Yes … yes, I do. You know I do.’

‘But? I hear a but.’

‘But nothing. Except I feel … just that it’s all happening so fast.’

‘So you agree with Prue, that I forced you to let me move in? Christ!’

‘No … no, that’s not what I said. I just mean I’m not ready to leave my entire life yet. It’s too soon.’

Fin shook his head. ‘Well, I’ll tell you this for free. I’m not staying in this fucking city a second longer. There’s nothing for me here.’

Flora felt close to tears. His cruel tone bit into her like a physical wound, made her want to run away, just leave him there on the pavement and forget she’d ever seen him again.

‘Can we not do this … please.’

They both stood stiffly, two wooden statues, the solid exterior belying the turmoil throbbing beneath the surface. Then his arms were round her, holding her in a powerful embrace. His mouth was buried in her neck, kissing her skin, whispering in her ear until she was dizzy with it. ‘Oh, Flo, forgive me. Forgive me, darling. I love you so much. I didn’t mean a word of what I just said. I was angry, upset at Prue attacking me like that. Of course I’ll wait, I’ll never leave you. We don’t have to live in Inverness if you don’t want to. We can live anywhere, as long as it’s in the fresh air, where I can breathe. Flo, Flo, say you forgive me.’

She rested wearily in his embrace, the fight gone out of her. ‘Take me home,’ she said.

*

Sunday morning passed without either of them saying much, both of them still shell-shocked from the previous evening. But Flora knew she had to square it with the others before she could have any peace of mind.

‘I’m going up,’ she said, late morning.

Fin raised his eyes from the paper. ‘I’ll come with you.’

‘No … I’d rather do this alone.’

But Fin got up. ‘We’re in this together. I’m coming whether you like it or not. Otherwise Prue will always play one of us off against the other.’

So they both trailed reluctantly up the stairs to the main house.

Prue was alone in the kitchen, reading the
Sunday Times
on the polished worktop, a cup of coffee and her BlackBerry at her side.

‘Hi.’

‘Hi.’ Flora sat down on the opposite side of the island. Fin hovered behind her.

‘Where are Bel and Philip?’

‘They’ve gone swimming.’

‘Can we talk?’

‘Fine.’

Flora detected a slight hesitancy, an uncharacteristic nervousness in her sister’s face. There was no sign of the anger of the previous night. She wondered if Philip had given her a dressing down.

Then Flora realised she had no idea what she was going to say. All sorts of accusations and blame that had been churning about her brain all night sprang to her tongue, but she firmly rejected them. In the end she just blurted out, ‘I love you. I can’t bear this … arguing with you.’

She watched as her tough sister’s eyes filled with tears. ‘And I love you too.’

Flora felt Fin go very still behind her, as if he was holding his breath. Then his hand slowly came to rest on her shoulder.

‘Please, can we talk this through, try to resolve our differences?’

Prue shook her head wearily. ‘There aren’t really any differences, except that I’m terrified you’ll be hurt again. And worrying about it is making me crotchety.’

Flora got up and went to her sister. She put her arms around her, and for a while they just stayed like that. Flora could feel the tension gradually leave Prue’s shoulders.

Fin spoke: ‘I promise, from the bottom of my heart, that I will never do what I did to Flo three years ago. Never. You have my solemn promise.’

Prue looked up at Fin, letting out a long breath.

‘You can trust me,’ he added, leaning earnestly across the marble towards her.

Prue shrugged, gave him a small smile. ‘I certainly hope so.’

‘The last thing I want is to take her away from you all, that was never the intention.’

‘Alright …’ Prue reached for Flora’s hand, clasped it tight. ‘OK. Well … I’m sorry for being a cow, but my sister means everything to me. I was only trying to protect her.’

‘I understand. Really I do.’

‘Phew! All this soul-baring is a bit exhausting, eh?’ Prue got up. ‘Shall we celebrate?’ She opened the fridge door and drew out a bottle of the inevitable Prosecco, waving it at Flora and Fin.

‘Love some,’ Fin said.

Flora would have liked to just crawl downstairs and go to sleep for a week, but she smiled and nodded, hugged her sister again and went in search of three glasses.

*

‘I could do Friday … then Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday if you like.’

Mary was checking the pages of her pocket diary.

‘Are you sure?’ Flora counted the days. Six. Alone with Fin. Out of London. She took an excited breath. ‘It would
mean three days and four nights without going home. What will you do with Millie?’

Mary winked. ‘I’ll bring her here. I’ve done it before, remember, and Dorothea adores her.’

Flora frowned. ‘When was that?’

‘When you took that week off at Easter? Rene was fine with it. She knows how much the old lady loved her cats in the past.’

‘Oh, thank you, Mary. Thank you so much. I really appreciate this.’

The night nurse smiled. ‘All in the cause of true love. Give me a chance to have a bit of a tryst with the good doctor too.’

*

‘Dorothea, I’m going away tomorrow for a few days,’ she told the old lady that Thursday morning as she got her dressed.

‘Going away?’ Dorothea stared at her. ‘Where are you going to?’

Flora pulled her patient’s trousers up into place and pushed her back gently so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. She bent down and reached for her shoes.

‘I’m going to Scotland with my boyfriend.’

Dorothea’s eyes lit up with interest. ‘So you have a young
man now. Was there a problem … something not quite right … you were telling me?’

‘I didn’t know, because we’d been apart, how he felt about me.’

‘If he has any sense … he will love you a great deal.’

Flora was touched, Dorothea spoke with such sincerity.

‘He says he does.’

‘But?’ The old lady raised her eyebrows.

‘Nothing really.’

Dorothea didn’t reply at once. Then she smiled, almost a girlish smile. ‘Love is … so marvellous, isn’t it? You feel so … alive.’

For a moment Flora had a glimpse of what she must have been like as a younger woman. Her enthusiasm lit up her face, temporarily masking the drooping lines of old age.

‘It
is
marvellous,’ Flora agreed. But her voice must still have held a noticeable reticence.

The old lady’s eyes were upon her. ‘Although things didn’t work out … as I had hoped … I never doubted him.’

Flora remembered the story of the man ‘falling’ to his death from the bridge. The ultimate betrayal in her eyes, yet Dorothea had never doubted him. And she realised in that minute that it wasn’t Fin she doubted – she really did believe he loved her and meant to do the best by her this time – it was herself she was unsure of.

She finished tying Dorothea’s shoe laces. ‘Mary will be here when I’m away.’

‘Mary …’ Dorothea seemed confused suddenly. ‘Mary?’

‘The night nurse? The Irish lady who looks after you every night?’

Dorothea nodded. ‘Oh yes.’ Flora began easing her to her feet, positioning her frame so she could grasp it easily. ‘I hope you won’t be away for too long,’ the old lady said.

9 November

The terraced house stood just across the road from the River Ness. They had taken a taxi from the station in the pouring rain, and as Flora opened the door of the cab, the wind tore at it, snapping it back. She struggled out, dragging her backpack after her, stiff from being bent up in the short bunk on the sleeper. Fin had insisted on sharing with her and neither of them had got any sleep. She looked over at his late father’s house. From the outside, it was an attractive red-brick terrace, with a white gable window.

No one had lived in it since Angus McCrea had died the year before. Only Jimmy, the man next door, who was using Angus’s ancient Vauxhall, dropped in to check once in a while and remove the piles of junk mail from the mat to the hall
table. As they opened the front door they were met by an overpowering smell of mustiness and damp. Flora shuddered.

‘Better get the heating going,’ Fin said, and went off to the kitchen to light the gas boiler while Flora peered cautiously into the sitting room. As she remembered it from the few occasions she’d visited with Fin, it had been a cosy room, tidy and warm, filled with the reassuring presence of Angus McCrea. She could recall the tea tray and the battered Scottish shortbread tin full of digestive biscuits; the knitted, striped tea cosy over the brown teapot; the pile of local papers, the scattering of yellowing Ordanance Survey maps – collecting them had been his hobby. Now, stripped of Angus’s personality, the room seemed sad – and a little creepy. She wandered in and sat gingerly on the brown sofa, trying to imagine living here with Fin. In her mind she stripped the faded wallpaper and painted the walls a light, clean colour – white, pale blue? – took up the swirly-patterned beige carpet, replaced the furniture with her own … But it wasn’t happening. He said we don’t have to live here, she thought, and prayed he had meant it.