A Little Love (16 page)

Pru ignored him; she didn’t feel very remarkable. ‘We decided to take a risk and leave home. We figured that if we left Blondin Street, got out of Bow and got different jobs, we could become different, better, reinvent ourselves a bit – and it worked. We moved up to Earls Court and shared a flat with a wonderful woman called Trudy.’ Pru’s eyes shone at the memory of her friend. ‘I’d never met anyone like her, Chris. All the women I knew were downtrodden, grubby and old before their years, with too many kids hanging off their skirts and nails bitten to the quick with nerves. But not Trudy; she was phenomenal. Tall and confident and beautiful – like a model or an actress – and so glamorous in her glossy red lipstick and high heels. But she’d always laugh when I complimented her, saying it was all just “smoke and mirrors”. Then one day she showed me how. She brushed my hair till it shone – not this thinning barnet, no, in those days it was a deep auburn, long and wavy. And she made up my face and put me in her high heels and one of her fur coats. I can still remember how I shrieked when I saw myself in the full-length mirror. I looked like a painted doll, I felt like a different person.’

‘I bet you looked stunning.’

Pru shrugged, but her hand was shaking and a tear was trickling down her cheek. Her voice was quiet now. ‘I don’t know if I did, but I felt like a film star. It was the first time in my whole life that I felt beautiful.’

Chris didn’t look at his watch. Whether allowed or not, these tears were coming thick and fast.

‘What happened next, after you’d moved? Or did you just jump straight from wearing Trudy’s borrowed clothes to owning one of Mayfair’s finest establishments?’ He was teasing, but Pru could see that he was genuinely curious.

‘Oh, you know, life happened!’ Pru tried to smile. She sniffed. ‘It’s getting late, Chris, we’ve got a bit of a drive, haven’t we?’

He stood and dusted the sand from his trousers. ‘You’re right. Come on, Miss Plum, let’s get you back to the big smoke.’

The car purred along the lanes, heading to the motorway and back to the complications of life in London.

‘I’ve had such a lovely day, thank you, Chris.’

Christopher glanced to his left and studied her face. ‘That’s what your mouth is saying, but you look a little sad.’

Pru stared out of the window. ‘I must admit, I feel a bit guilty. Selfish, even.’ She thought of Bobby jumping with excitement in the wedding shop, her whole life mapped out. ‘I feel guilty that I have a future and she doesn’t.’

‘Pru, you have just opened up your home to a complete stranger in need. You are anything but selfish.’

‘I don’t think Milly would agree with you.’ Pru gazed into the middle distance and for the first time in as long as she could remember, she dreaded going home.

Pru wandered down to the bakery. She had to dig deep to find a smile. Saturday had been wonderful and the Salcombe air still flowed through her veins. She had lain awake wondering about the exact nature of her relationship with Christopher. At first it had felt like the beginnings of a heady love affair, but more and more he seemed to treat her as a friend. Maybe she had misread the situation, or maybe the accident had altered the course that fate had intended. This idea saddened her greatly.

She tested the bottom stair and was happy to see it repaired and creak-free. Pushing open the swing door, she found the team working frantically on a corporate order of fat cookies that had to go out boxed and ribboned by 8 a.m. On one counter, giant pretzels flavoured with fresh chilli, smoked salt flakes and mixed seeds were being turned and shaped by hand. She watched the skilful fingers that stretched and plaited the elastic dough, pulling it wide before sprinkling each portion with the right spice mix. A second batch of
boules de pain
crusted in the oven and trays and trays of muffins and scones were cooling in the racks.

Guy saw her enter and rushed forward. Reaching into a tray, he knocked on the bottom of one of the cooling loaves as he turned his ear to hear the dull thud against the thick, dark-brown crust. ‘
Parfait!
’

‘Delish!’ Pru, like him, admired nothing more than a perfectly turned-out loaf.

‘Oh, Guy, you have been busy. What did they choose in the end?’ She nodded towards the cookie boxes for their corporate client.

He extended his finger and addressed her as though she were a potential purchaser. ‘Good morning, Madame. Today we have a divine selection of hand-made cookies. Hazelnut and milk chocolate, dark chocolate and bitter orange, cranberry and white chocolate, and honey and oat. They are guaranteed to melt in your mouth and have been blended using the finest organic ingredients and soft-baked to perfection!’

‘Wow! I’ll take them all. They smell wonderful.’

‘And they
look
wonderful,
non
?’

Pru laughed. She had taken a risk, employing Guy. He had a reputation for being brilliant but difficult, getting through six employers in as many years. She had learned that all he needed was freedom – freedom to express his creativity and space in which to vent his wide range of emotions; which he did, daily and loudly. They both had a deep respect for the other’s ability and their friendship proved to be the glue that saw them through any turbulence.

She eyed the cooling cookies. ‘Yes, they really do look wonderful.’

Guy’s mouth twitched. He had something on his mind. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how is that little girl today, the one who is
enceinte
.’ He drew the outline of a bump on his stomach with his cupped palm.

‘Meg? I haven’t seen her yet today. But she’s good, I think. Why?’

‘Oh! I didn’t know if I should mention it, but on Saturday, when you were out all day, she was in the street, crying. In fact, screaming! I felt very sad for her. Milly went off to The Dorchester and I didn’t know what to do for the best. Eventually I coaxed her inside and gave her hot chocolate – there is nothing it won’t cure. But my heart bled at her distress. It bleeds for you all.’ He placed his hand on his breastbone as if to emphasise the point.

‘Well, thank you for looking after her. I don’t know what that was all about, but I’m sure something and nothing.’ She swept her eyes over the counters. ‘Everything seems fine down here, will you excuse me?’

‘But of course!’ He gave an elaborate bow, as he did on occasion.

What on earth had gone on? Pru climbed the stairs to the top floor and knocked on the door of Bobby’s flat. It would always be Bobby’s flat to her. There was no answer. She used her key to let herself in and listened. It was silent. She hesitated at Bobby’s door, resting her face against the cool wood. How she wanted to knock and walk in, like she used to. Sit on the edge of her bed and stroke the blonde hair away from her niece’s forehead; even without make-up and in the middle of the night, she was always so beautiful. ‘How’s my girl?’ she’d ask. ‘I’m okay,’ Bobby would answer drowsily from under her duvet.

Pru felt a sudden pang for Meg, just as she had all those years ago when Bobby had first come into her life – worried and motherly and with a need to check on her. She popped her head into the kitchen, which was immaculate. Further down the hallway, she hesitated at Meg’s door before rapping quietly. She heard the bounce of the mattress springs, then Meg cracked the door a fraction and peered through.

‘Morning, Meg. Can I come in?’ Pru tried to sound bright and cheerful.

Meg nodded and opened the door. The window was thrown wide to allow the morning sunshine and a slight breeze to stir the room. The pillows on her bed were stacked on top of each other and held the imprint of her body. She was wearing sweatpants, part of the haul of clothes that Pru had ordered for her. They would have dwarfed her tiny frame had they not been filled at the front by her ever-expanding bump. Her skin looked almost translucent, her eyes dull. The duvet was pulled back in a neat triangle and the television was on but muted. She was watching a programme about interior design.

Meg sat back down on the bed and looked out of the window. She knew what Pru had come to say. ‘Don’t worry; I’m not staying here, Pru. You’ve obviously realised that it hasn’t worked out.’

‘What do you mean, it hasn’t worked out?’

‘Well, it hasn’t, has it? I shouldn’t be here, I should never have come in the first place.’

‘Of course you should! I want you here. Besides, where will you go?’

Meg took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know, but somewhere, anywhere, that isn’t like a prison!’

Pru cocked her head. ‘Like a prison?’ She couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘But I thought you liked it here?’

Meg let her chin drop as her shoulders shook. Pru had to concentrate to hear the words, muffled through her tears. ‘Milly said I mustn’t go in the kitchen when she’s around, and I know that if I see her, then she’ll just go mental at me again and I can’t cope with it.’

Pru felt a rare flush of anger towards her cousin. She left the room without replying, her jaw set determinedly. Meg stared after her with red-rimmed eyes.

Pru stepped purposefully down the stairs, took a deep breath and knocked gently as she entered Milly’s bedroom.

Milly was lying on her bed in floral pyjamas and white socks. She was hugging a pillow into her chest and had the irregular breathing pattern of someone who had only just stopped crying.

‘Is it okay if I come in?’ Pru tried to keep the edge from her voice.

‘If you like.’ Milly didn’t look up, sounding like a miffed teen.

‘Actually, I would like. I think we need to have a talk. I know this is a difficult situation, but we need to do the right thing. You know how things operate: we do what’s right, Mills, we always have. There is no room for hatred in this little space, there’s enough of that beyond the door. We’ve always said that, haven’t we?’

An image from Kenway Road flew into Pru’s head just then: the two of them sitting on the wide bed, Pru gingerly patting at her bruised jaw and sobbing,
‘I didn’t see it coming, it took me by surprise.’
And Milly’s voice, soothing, with her arm across her shoulders, ‘
It’s okay, Pru, we just need to stick together and make sure that the bad stuff stays on the other side of the door. As long as we stick together, we will always be all right.’

Milly raised her head. ‘Yes we have, but it’s not me that’s forgotten that one golden rule, about keeping the bad things on the other side of the door. It’s not me that’s let that girl come and move in among Bobby’s things, trying to live her life.’

‘Trying to live her life? Are you serious? Is this what that was all about on Saturday?’ Pru was astounded.

‘What has she said?’ Milly sat up.

‘She said that she feels she can’t leave her bedroom. She thought you might have told her to stay in there, which I doubt, because that would be cruel and hateful and I know you are many things, Mills, but not that.’

Milly propped herself up against her pillows. ‘I don’t trust her, Pru! Don’t you think it’s just a little bit odd that she came out of the woodwork when she did? We don’t even know if she is carrying William’s baby, she could be some floozy who’s trying her luck!’

‘Did you really just call her a
floozy
?’ Pru felt anger bubbling in her throat. ‘Mills, I love you very much and you know that if I could have Bobby back by trading places with her, I would, I’d do it in a heartbeat! But I can’t and neither can you and neither can Meg. All we can do is deal with what is left behind and that means Meg. She is what’s left behind and she’s our guest and she needs some kindness. I am asking you to show it to her. I want you to take a good look at her and without too much imagination you should be able to see that she could
be
Bobby! If we hadn’t stepped in when Bobby was little and taken her in, who knows? She might have become just like Meg and I for one would have been very grateful that someone was helping her.’

Both of them were silent for a moment, remembering how helpless Bobby had once been, how fierce as she howled, and how Alfie had peeled her skinny little arms from his legs before hugging his sister and kissing his daughter one final time.

‘Do you think I don’t know that? Of course I do!’ Milly banged her palm against the mattress.

The two fell silent, mentally reloading.

‘I blame myself actually.’ Milly looked down, her voice much quieter now. ‘I should have stopped her driving; she was too excitable before she left, distracted. I should have stopped her driving.’

‘Oh, Mills. She wasn’t even driving, William was.’

‘I know that. But she might have distracted him, being fidgety, you know how she got.’

Pru gave a wistful smile at the image of Bobby in her wedding dress on the podium in Spitalfields, jumping all over the place. Yes, she knew how she got.

‘But putting Bobby aside, what I don’t understand is why
we
have to fix Meg’s problems, why she has to live in our flat. She’s nothing to do with us!’

Pru rubbed her temples. She felt too old for this fight. ‘I’ve done many things I’m not proud of, Mills. We both have.’ She let this linger. ‘But in my whole life, I have never, ever turned anyone away that needed my help and I am not about to start now!’

Pru stamped back up the stairs, intending to go in and comfort Meg, but first she stopped at Bobby’s door. She listened, as she always did, before slowly turning the handle. The first thing that she noticed was the smell. It smelled of her, a heady combination of her perfume, shampoo and the scented candles that she liked to light when William stayed over. The room was neat; she had cleaned and tidied in readiness for her special evening. Pru picked up a water glass that sat on her bedside table and held it up to the window; she could see the faintest smudge of lip balm against the rim. She pressed it to her cheek, like a final kiss. It brought her unimaginable happiness.

Running her fingers over the pillows, her hand touched against a piece of paper, a heart-shaped notelet that Bobby had stuck to the pillow with a blob of Sellotape. Pru pulled it from its sticky anchor and held it up to her face, reading slowly.