Galvanised into action, she jumped up and called over to Pip and Cissy. ‘I’ve got news,’ she said. ‘Can you get everyone together?’ They might as well all hear it at once.
Frank reached her side and said, ‘What’s up?’
‘I’ve got some news,’ she told him. ‘From my colleague at work. It’s not good, Gramps.’
‘Should I get your gran?’
She shook her head. ‘Leave her for now.’ Did Frank know his wife talked to an invisible man when he popped out for milk? Evie couldn’t think about that right now.
Zac arrived looking artfully dishevelled. His jeans were covered in orange dust but his T-shirt was pristine white. ‘What’s going on?’ he said. Evie didn’t answer. She waited for Sarah, who said she was texting Tim, and for the Peacocks to pile out of their triple-fronted house. Freda had her hair in curlers and Bob was wearing his pyjamas. Even Rolo Peacock came outside, grey and grubby in an ancient suit jacket that looked like he lived and slept in it. Evie realised it was still early. She felt like she’d been up for an entire day.
Frank cleared his throat and tapped a stick on the metal gate post. ‘Evie’s got something to tell us. She’s got some news …’ He looked at her with raised eyebrows and she nodded. ‘About Cupid’s Way. Over to you, Evie.’
She stood up, aware that her legs felt shaky but aware too that she didn’t care. This wasn’t like speaking to a bunch of delegates at a conference – this was about people’s lives. This mattered. Her nerves were irrelevant.
‘I just had a call from Manchester,’ she told them. Sarah nodded encouragingly; Zac hadn’t taken his eyes off her. ‘I asked a colleague of mine to look into the plans for Cupid’s Way. He’s a real veteran, knows everyone. He spoke to someone who works for Bristol council, and this source of his asked around the people she knows in the planning department.’ She was trying to establish Harry’s integrity, hoping they wouldn’t want to shoot the messenger, but then she realised they didn’t care about him. Or her. They just wanted to hear her news.
‘It’s not good, I’m afraid. The long and short of it is, Dynamite Construction have already struck a deal with the council. They’re building two hundred new homes on a site outside the city, but this medical centre is their sweetener. Their loss-leader, if you like.’
Confused faces stared back at her. Someone coughed. Evie sighed and racked her brain for the best way to explain it. A few words from Harry and she got the picture – but she was familiar with the industry terms. She clenched her teeth as another wave of anger swelled inside her. She was familiar with the back-handed, devious, under-the-table deals as well. But she’d thought better of Michael. She really had.
‘It’s like this,’ she said, sitting down on the bench again. As one, they all moved a step closer. ‘Say a big company wanted to build some new houses. Lots of houses. The council needs the houses – whatever you feel about the rights and wrongs of it, councils do need new housing to be built, and they want developers to build it. But – and here’s where it gets complicated – the council don’t want to just say “Go ahead and build” because there’s nothing in it for them. The builders know the council want the houses, and the council knows the builders know it, but they have the power to say yes or no. So they pretend they’ll say no unless the builders – in this case, Dynamite Construction – do something for them. Are you following me?’
Zac, Sarah and Tim nodded, but the others continued to stare at her blankly. Evie carried on.
‘Suppose the council have been under pressure to build essential resources to keep up with the growing population? They could build them themselves, but this costs money. Money they probably don’t have, to be fair.’
‘Essential resources like a medical centre?’
Evie looked up at Tim and nodded. ‘Exactly. I think you know where this is going? The council say to the builder – Dynamite, for example – you can build your houses but you also have to build this new medical centre for us. And the builder says yes because they know they won’t get through planning otherwise. Whatever it’s going to cost to build the medical centre is offset against the millions they are going to make on the new housing. It’s simple, and it’s very common.’ She sat back and clasped her hands together to stop them shaking. ‘It’s also completely disgusting.’
She allowed the silence to settle, knowing they needed time to take it in. Bob Peacock was scratching his belly, which pushed against the fabric of his stripy pyjamas in a way Evie would have found comical at any other time. Frank had turned white. Zac’s expression had turned thunderous. Evie figured he would have a clearer grasp of the ramifications than any of the other residents.
Sure enough, he was the first to explode into action.
‘The underhanded bastards,’ he said, clenching his fists and looking around as though Michael Andrews might be near enough to punch.
If he had been, Evie would have been cheering Zac on. She felt sucker-punched herself, and the knowledge that Michael had intimated that something like this might be going on, and had admitted he couldn’t talk about it to her, didn’t help one bit.
‘They can’t do this,’ Zac said. He looked as though he was going to cry. Evie remembered how she’d questioned his attachment to Cupid’s Way. It seemed he was just as attached as anyone.
‘Evie?’ Frank moved closer, and Evie reached out and took his arm. ‘What does this mean?’
‘Do you understand what’s happening?’ she asked. He looked so shell-shocked she wasn’t sure he’d taken any of it in.
He nodded. ‘I think so. But what does it mean for us? We can still fight it, can’t we?’
‘I don’t know, Gramps. Nothing’s certain until planning approval has been officially granted, but Harry said this deal has been thrashed out over the past six months, and that it’s unlikely it will fall through now.’ She rubbed her eyes, but only succeeded in making them sting even more. ‘The council knew this would be a controversial site, which is why they had the surveyor’s report done. Their line, according to Harry, is that Cupid’s Way is bordering on derelict and would need to be demolished in a few years anyway. The fact that there’s a developer willing to buy the residents out is a bonus for everyone, they say.’
This was, of course, Michael’s line too. Evie thought back to his phone call – if only she had agreed to meet him, to go along to Horizon House with him. Then when Harry’s call came through she could have done something satisfying like throw a drink over him.
Way to go, Evie. Throwing a drink over someone. Absolutely terrifying. You’re a real force to be reckoned with.
Evie told the little voice in her head to shut the hell up and turned back to Frank.
‘So that’s it then?’ he was saying. ‘They’re going to force us to sell and there’s nothing we can do about it.’
‘Well, we mustn’t–’
Evie didn’t get any further. She heard a strangled sort of cry behind her granddad and then saw Mavis falling. Bob Peacock managed to grab her before she hit the ground, and then chaos erupted. As she tried to reach her gran, people crowded in on her from all sides.
‘Evie, what did your friend say about–’
‘Evie, is Mavis alright? What do you think we should–’
‘Gran? Gran, are you okay?’ Evie helped the older woman to her feet, then shifted so they were facing away from the other residents. She started to walk towards the door to number eleven. When had her gran come outside and started listening? If only she’d noticed in time. ‘I’ll have you home soon,’ she told her. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll be okay. I promise.’
Making promises you couldn’t keep to your own grandmother. She was sinking lower and lower. Harry was right about one thing – her lovely holiday certainly was turning into a nightmare.
*
On the walls of the living room in her grandparents’ house, framed photographs and prints competed for space and attention, relegating the leaf-patterned wallpaper to a mere backdrop. A few years ago, Mavis had taken up cross stitch, and now at least ten of her creations were plonked haphazardly among the pictures. There were photos of Evie – at school, graduating, winning the Young Environmentalist of the Year competition, staring gloomily at the camera in an attempt to look sultry – and almost as many of Evie’s mother. But it wasn’t these photographs Mavis turned to after Evie had made her a cup of tea and managed to get her to stop crying. She’d gone to the very back of the wooden cabinet with the sliding slatted door and pulled out a cardboard shoe box. Evie hadn’t got a glimpse of the contents, but she could see the photograph Mavis clutched in her hand clearly enough. A young boy, no more than a toddler, dated by his clothing and smiling at the camera. She had a feeling this was Tommy. She also had a strange urge to run out of the living room and up the stairs. To pack her bag and head back to Manchester and leave Cupid’s Way and all this madness behind her – go back to occasional phone calls and even rarer visits.
She stayed where she was and waited. Mavis was gazing at the photograph. Every so often she would lift her forefinger and stroke the boy’s face. The clock on the wall, with a cross-stitched church on one side of it and a print of a bug-eyed dog on the other, ticked in a manner Evie thought particularly laborious. She let out a faint sigh. Mavis looked up.
‘You’re wondering what the hell’s going on, I bet? I saw you earlier, escaping out the back gate. I guessed you’d seen me in the kitchen. No, it’s okay. You don’t have to deny it. And last weekend, when you came downstairs early doors. I wanted to talk to you about it, Evie. Really I did. It’s just … when you haven’t talked about something for such a long time, for so many years, it’s hard to find the words.’
Evie sipped her tea. She had no idea how to respond. She figured she’d just let her gran get there in her own time.
‘This,’ said Mavis, holding up the photo, ‘is Tommy. The day I got pregnant with him was the happiest day of my life. Frank and I, we had no money. We were living here with his mum, and you know what she was like, the old dragon. My folks had sold up to the Peacocks by then and gone to live over the river, but I didn’t really miss them. I had Frank, and now I had my baby.’
Even though it was what Evie had expected to hear, it was still a shock to hear the words spoken out loud. Her fingers tingled with the urge to hold her gran’s hand, as much for her own comfort as anything. But she didn’t move. It was as though a barrier existed between them, like Evie was watching through glass. Mavis’s expression was relaxed, almost serene. She’d never been a beauty, but Evie could see the young girl she’d once been and she could see remnants of the sparkling eyes and the lively personality that had attracted the strapping youth next door.
‘He wasn’t like other babies,’ Mavis said, stroking the photograph again. ‘Whenever I met up with my friends I’d look at their babies, all colicky and crying, demanding attention, and then I’d look at my Tommy and think, “I’m so lucky.” They struggled and didn’t sleep and were frazzled right through to the bone, whereas I had it easy. Tommy was an angel. Of course, later we realised it wasn’t in fact a good thing that he never cried.’
Evie felt her eyes start to blur with tears. Mavis took a deep, shuddering breath and sat up a little straighter, as though gathering courage to go on.
‘He wasn’t quite two years old when he died. It was three weeks before his birthday. I was planning a party for him, planning the cake I’d make, who we’d invite. Frank’s mum was interfering and getting on my nerves, and Tommy was just lying there on the mat snoozing. He’d only started walking a month before, but he wasn’t into everything the way other kids were. We weren’t worried though, Frank and me. I guess … I guess we didn’t have any experience to compare it with.’
Evie nodded, barely able to swallow over the lump in her throat, but Mavis must have taken her silence the wrong way, because she said, ‘You wouldn’t understand – your generation has information just shoved at them from all sides. We were innocent. Frank’s mum used to say I was lucky – even she didn’t think there was anything wrong.’
‘I do,’ Evie said, forcing out the words. Her voice was choked. ‘I do understand.’
Mavis didn’t seem to hear her. She was back behind her glass wall. ‘I baked a cake for him, just as a practice. I wanted everything to be perfect on the day. My parents were coming over for the party, and I’d invited that woman from the church who had those five little blonde-haired girls. Dorothy she was called. I felt the need to impress her. Can’t remember why now for the life of me. I made a Victoria sponge, Tommy’s favourite. I took him a slice, and laid it on the mat. I tried to wake him up. I tried and tried to wake him. I said, “Tommy, my love, wake up. I’ve got some cake for you. Come on, sweetheart, wake up now.”’ She stared into space, her eyes wide and confused. ‘I couldn’t understand it. He’d been fine that morning. Running about, laughing. Playing with his blocks. But now … nothing. He was just gone. Like someone had come into the house and stolen him, but left his body behind.’
Evie couldn’t bear it any longer. She couldn’t hold the tears in. They spilled out of her eyes and flowed down her cheeks, and when she thought distractedly about wiping her face her hands seemed disconnected from her body. She stared at them, wondering why they were so dirty. The clock ticked on and Mavis stroked her photo and Evie’s heart was breaking. How did a person carry on after something like that? How did you breathe, wash, eat, drink? It was impossible. Unthinkable.
She pictured the little boy lying on a mat in this very room and let out a sob, unable to stop herself. Mavis looked up and regarded Evie, as though only just remembering she was there.
‘Oh, my lovely. I’m so sorry.’ She dropped to her knees and threw her thin arms around Evie’s neck. ‘I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you this. It’s not fair.’
‘You shouldn’t be apologising to me,’ Evie said, shaking her head and trying to wipe her face on her sleeve. ‘It didn’t happen to me.’
‘But I shouldn’t have burdened you with it, Evie. It’s not right. You’re young and you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.’ Mavis was crying now, her face crumpled up like a scrunched tissue. ‘I should have known better. I know how it feels to have this in your heart, and now you’ve got to live with it too. I’ll never forgive myself, never.’