When You Walked Back Into My Life (30 page)

‘A year! That’s ridiculous.’ Her voice was shrill and tinny. ‘It was a couple of times over the summer, that’s all.’

That’s all? Flora thought.
All?
She didn’t believe her anyway. Fin, in his entirely selfish way, had seemed to be the one telling the truth. She wondered why she needed to know the details. They were hardly relevant, but they seemed all she could grasp onto in this unbelievable scenario.

Prue sighed. ‘I’m so sorry you had to find out. But please, I beg you, don’t wreck your child’s future because of a stupid infidelity over three years ago.’

Flora didn’t reply at once, her thoughts with the baby growing inside her. What sort of future will I be able to give her? she wondered.

At last, she said, ‘Me and Fin … it’s not just about what happened with you. That’s just the icing on the cake, if you like.’

Her sister continued to gaze at her, an irritating look of concern on her face, as if Flora were the one at fault here, for caring so much.

‘Umm … about Philip and Bel …’

‘Don’t worry,’ Flora cut in, ‘your secret’s safe with me. I wouldn’t put either of them through that. Not that you deserve it … or them.’

‘Oh, come on, Flora. Don’t be pious. I’m sorry, really, really
sorry. It’s horrible to see you so upset and know that I’m to blame. And I agree it was a bad mistake. But in the end it was just sex.’

Flora gasped at Prue’s nonchalance, even knowing her cavalier attitude to sexual relationships in general. ‘You don’t seem to think it’s important at all! My sister fucks the man I love and he leaves me, and you think I should just roll over and forget about it?’

‘I didn’t say that. But that’s exactly my point, it
wasn’t
important.’ She gave a frustrated sigh. ‘You can’t blame me for him leaving. That was entirely his decision.’

Flora suddenly had a moment of blind fury.

‘Go, please … just go away.’

Prue looked shocked. ‘Alright … OK … but I did warn you about that man. I told you not to get involved with him again, that you’d never be able to trust him. But you wouldn’t listen, and now look what’s happened.’

Flora turned away. She could no longer look at her sister. Prue seemed almost baffled by her distress. And worse, she seemed to blame her, Flora, for the whole thing.

*

As she worked through the week, mostly on a sort of numb autopilot, Flora wondered what she should do. She hadn’t spoken to Prue since their talk, and she didn’t want to, refusing to reply to her sister’s many attempts to call her.
Her problem was how she could go on being normal in front of Bel and Philip. And how could she continue living in the flat and taking her sister’s patronage? She wanted to pack her things and move out. But she had nowhere to go, and no money to rent anything more than a room in a flat-share on the outskirts of London, miles away from work.

Her predicament created a permanent state of anxiety, gnawing away at her gut day in, day out, with no appreciable let-up. Her current job would end soon and she wouldn’t be able to work for many more months anyway, because of the lifting involved. She would have maternity pay from the agency – she’d checked that – but it wouldn’t be enough to be independent of Prue. She had no savings, and Fin wouldn’t be much help. But the worst aspect of it all was not the practical one. It was that she felt terrifyingly alone. The two people she most depended on had disappeared from her life almost overnight. How would she cope through the long months of pregnancy, the birth, the first weeks of her baby’s life, without the support of her sister and Fin? Or anyone else?

*

‘I’m going to get you out while I do the bed.’ She began lifting Dorothea’s now feather-light frame until the old lady was sitting upright, then swung her legs over the edge of

the bed. She was still in her nightdress and her legs were exposed, thin as matchsticks and mottled a purplish-pink in places.

‘Dominic is coming today,’ Flora told her.

‘I’m glad … it’s him,’ she said. There had been a flurry of visitors that week. People from her past who must have been informed by Rene that the old lady was fading, and whose conscience required they see her one more time: the old man from down the hall who was almost completely deaf; a couple from her church; the woman who used to clean for her before the nurses took over; Reverend Jackson, the bumptious vicar. The visits had been awkward. Most people didn’t really know how to be with a dying person, Flora had long ago discovered. They either sat mute and anxious, eyes swishing in search of potential help. Or they talked and talked about their own lives with determined jollity, but with scant reference to Dorothea lying in the bed beside them. Dominic, with his self-important but familiar bluster, would be a relief to them both.

Dorothea perked up when she saw her great-nephew. He employed his usual flattering banter with the old lady, but, although Flora was pretty sure she saw through him, she seemed to enjoy his company. He made a point of entertaining her as she lay propped up regally in her state-of-theart bed; he pranced round the room, cup and saucer in hand,
giving them both chapter and verse on the various antiques dotted about the room.

‘Take this,’ he said, picking up the little silver dish Flora had chosen as the piece she would like to have after Dorothea died. ‘This is such a pretty bit of Arts and Crafts.’ He turned it over and examined the side of the dish, running his finger across the rubbed hallmark. ‘Birmingham 1919 … A.E. Jones. Jones was such a talent, and so little is written about his work.’

He waved the bowl at his great-aunt. ‘This would get a fair old price at auction, Aunt Dot, if you’ve a mind to sell it.’

Dorothea waved her hand. ‘I … think … I have given Flora that one.’

Dominic spun round to where she was packing up the tea tray.

‘Flora?’ He gave her a suspicious stare. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Dorothea insisted I choose something that I liked, to remember her by.’ His expression made her feel almost guilty.

‘I see. And you chose this one. Good choice.’ He raised his eyebrows just a fraction.

‘I had no idea it was valuable. I just liked it,’ she told him in a whisper, while picking up the tray. As she walked
towards the door she addressed the old lady. ‘Please don’t hang onto the silver dish because of me, Dorothea, if you’d like Dominic to sell it.’

But the old lady shook her head firmly. ‘I have … given it to you.’ She waved her hand at him. ‘You can find something else I’m sure.’

Dominic followed her into the kitchen.

‘Flora, I, er … don’t take this the wrong way, but should you be taking presents from Aunt Dot? I’m not being funny, but as you said before, it’d be easy for someone in your position to take advantage … once you cross that line.’

She was about to reply, her face scarlet with indignation, when he rushed on.

‘Of course I know you’d never do that. I just think it looks bad … if you let her give you things, sort of sends the wrong message to the other nurses. You get what I’m saying?’

Flora had to take a deep breath before replying, tempted as she was to say something seriously rude.

‘Your great-aunt begged me to choose something of hers. I said I didn’t think it was appropriate, but she absolutely insisted. It was impossible to refuse, and I think she’d have been hurt if I had. Like I didn’t care about her.’

Dominic nodded his head in his wise-owl manner, pushing his glasses up his nose.

‘Hmm … I see. Yes, perhaps you were put in a tricky position. And of course, it’s not something you have to follow through on when … you know.’

Flora put the cup she was washing down on the draining board and turned to face him full on.

‘I never wanted or asked for anything from Dorothea, but these are her possessions, Dominic. Don’t you think she has the right to give them away if she chooses?’ She could hear the quietly controlled tone of her voice and was proud of herself. ‘She’s still completely compos mentis … and Rene knows.’

Dominic held his hands up, palms towards her. ‘Please, I wasn’t accusing you of anything, Flora. You look upset, but I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick. You’re a very special person doing a brilliant job, no doubt about that. I was just concerned that maybe Aunt Dot was on a bit of a spree … you know, handing out stuff willy-nilly to anyone passing.’ He blinked his eyes as if he were fighting back the tears. ‘I’m like you, I’m just trying to protect that darling woman.’

She nodded. ‘Yes, well, I don’t think you need to worry on that score. The only things belonging to Dorothea that have left this flat have been those you yourself have taken away to sell.’

His pale eyes looked at her, considering her words for a
moment as if he were uncertain as to what she was implying. Then he obviously decided to take her at face value.

‘Good-good. That’s a relief.’ He forced a thin smile to his chubby cheeks. ‘Sorry to have brought up something so unpleasant, but one has to face the fact that old people are hugely vulnerable.’ His tone was so pious and preachy she wanted to smack him.

‘True. Rene and I are very aware of that.’

Dominic moved into the hall muttering to himself. ‘Right then, better be off. Bye, Flora. Glad we had the chat.’

‘Has Dominic gone?’ Dorothea wanted to know. ‘I … thought I heard his voice.’

‘Just now, yes.’

Her eyes looked up at Flora, suddenly beady. ‘He’s a dear boy … but his mother rather spoilt him. He was an only child you see.’ She smiled at Flora, ‘One child, three fools, my mother used to say.’

*

Arriving home later, she paused in the street a few doors down from the house. She was worried that Prue, who knew exactly when she got home in the evening, would be lying in wait for her. And perhaps it would be better to swallow her pride and make some sort of peace with her sister. As it stood, she was no longer at ease in her own home.

But it was Bel who came bursting through the upstairs
door before Flora had time to take her coat off. She rushed at her aunt and held her in a tight embrace.

‘I’ve been watching out for you,’ Bel said, when she had released Flora. She could see the distress on her niece’s face.

‘What’s happened?’

‘It’s Mum and Dad. They haven’t spoken to each other since Monday when they had this terrible row – I could hear them shouting at each other downstairs after I’d gone to bed. Dad’s moved into the spare room, but they won’t tell me why or anything. It’s really, really horrible.’ The words came in a rush, followed almost immediately by tears. Bel just stood there in her light grey sweat-shirt and black leggings, her arms folded tight across her chest, making no attempt to wipe them away. Flora went to get a piece of kitchen towel and handed it to her.

‘Are they going to get a divorce?’ Bel’s voice was very small.

‘Come and sit down.’ She drew her over to the sofa.

‘You must know what it’s about, Flora. Mum tells you everything. What’s she said? Has Dad done something wrong? Please, please tell me.’

Flora was paralysed. It seemed obvious that the row must be about Fin, but she didn’t know for certain that it was. And why would Prue suddenly confess when Flora had promised she wouldn’t say anything?

‘I haven’t spoken to Prue since the weekend, darling. I honestly don’t know what’s going on between them.’

‘But you’ll find out won’t you? Please. Talk to Mum, you’ve got to. I’m scared Dad will leave.’

Flora tried to still her heartbeat by taking long, slow breaths.

‘I’m not sure … if your mum hasn’t said anything … whether I should interfere.’

Bel looked exasperated. ‘But you and Mum don’t have secrets. Why hasn’t she talked to you?’ She threw her arms up in the air. ‘You see? This is why I’m worried. If Mum can’t even tell you about it …’

‘Alright, I’ll call and ask her to come down.’

‘Now?’

‘Yes. You go back upstairs. She won’t talk if you’re here.’

‘And you’ll get her to tell me what’s going on? I really need to know. It’s driving me crazy.’

‘I’ll ask her to. But I can’t go behind her back, Bel.’

Her niece hung her head. ‘Nothing’s been right in this house since Fin came back.’

Flora held her breath.

‘Did your mum mention Fin’s name in the row?’

‘No … I don’t know, maybe. I couldn’t hear what they were saying – I didn’t really want to – but you know how weird Mum’s been since he pitched up.’

Flora picked up her mobile from the table and brought up her sister’s number. Prue replied almost immediately.

‘Flora?’

‘Can you come down?’

Prue didn’t reply immediately. ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’ Her voice was uncharacteristically subdued.

‘Go on.’ Flora gave her niece a quick hug. ‘I’ll do my best.’

‘Thanks, thanks … I love you.’

‘Love you too.’ Bel scooted up the stairs.

Her sister’s face was drawn and pale, although the makeup was still in place. She threw her phone onto the sofa beside her and gave out a low groan as she leaned back against the cushions. Flora waited, but Prue said nothing. They hadn’t given each other the usual hug, just manoeuvred around the space until they were sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table.

‘How did Philip find out?’

Prue raised her eyebrows, puffed out her cheeks. ‘I … oh, God … it was a stupid row. I mentioned that I’d sponsored Fin’s Nepal trip, and he got angry, said I was really letting you down encouraging him in he-man activities when he was a new father. He wanted to know why I was suddenly being so nice to the man when I’d been slagging him off from here to kingdom come ever since he showed up.’ She
sighed. ‘He said I kept flirting with Fin at Christmas, accused me of fancying him. Said it was embarrassing.’

‘So you told him?’ Flora was incredulous.

‘Not at first. But I can’t stand sexual jealousy. I said … I said Fin was more of a man than Philip would ever be.’ She shrugged. ‘Just to taunt him. And … oh, I don’t know … it all just came out.’ Her sister drew herself up, suddenly proud. ‘Philip doesn’t own me. I don’t ask who he fucks.’

‘I’m sure he doesn’t fuck anyone except you.’

‘Who knows?’ Prue said tiredly.