Richer Ground (5 page)

Tim allowed her to swap her Tuesday off for the Thursday. So now she was free for her potential lovefest. Shame she had to work on Friday, but that wasn't till three, so they had a lot of time to recover.

On Monday afternoon she wandered round to The Chase to see mum in action. She was outside working on the front when she arrived, weeding out the final stragglers from between the bricks on the drive.

“
Hi Mum,” she said, walking up behind her.

“
What d'you think so far?” She stood up and swept her arm around to display her efforts.

“
It looks great... a little bare maybe, now that you've removed everything living,” Alista said, looking around in some surprise. “You've dug up the big bushes already, so I see.”

“
It was a struggle, but they were past rescue. I'm going to whip over the lawn with the mower and after that I'm going out garden shopping. Fancy a trip to The Old Walled Garden?”

“
Oh I'd love to. I can get some more of their mimosa candles.”

They wandered around with a trolley, each picking out zinc planters, clipped buxus, and bay and small ornamental firs. Alista found a winter flowering, white blossomed cherry tree, and a miniature weeping pear. Ivy and a lot of autumn and evergreen plants made their way in the trolleys, along with compost and a few tall glass ornaments. Her mum was going for white, black, silver and green... in terms of a color scheme. To match the black front and garage doors, and of course, the silver of his car... she laughed.

Very manly, smart and sophisticated, just like he was...

They bought a very long, silver grey stone bench which would be delivered the next day as it was too heavy for their car. Eight hundred pounds later they were on their way back, with foliage threatening to burst through the roof of the car.

They drew up the driveway and she helped her mum get it all out again, ready for her planting party.

“I'll let you be. I know you love all this,” she said, sweating in the heat of the August sun.

“
Yeah, thanks love. I'd like to do it myself. It's a dream come true. Oh, can you get me the drill, hammer, plugs and screws, for the wall thingy before you go?”

“
I'll do my best...” She went in the garage and looked around. It was all tidy, of course... Mum had been busy in there too.

Three large black dustbins occupied the middle of the floor full of Richer's rubbish. Six bags of recycling trash sat alongside it. She gathered the necessary drilling gear and returned to her mum who was floating away in planting heaven by the look on her face.

She was about to leave when a dark blue Jaguar drew up the driveway. She stood next to her mum who was kneeling on the floor, stuffing compost in a pot, with her back to the car, oblivious to its arrival. A tall grey haired man got out. She'd put him at fifty or fifty five. He was good looking in a familiar way, slim and distinguished, wearing smart black jeans and a white polo shirt. This was daddy Robertson, if she wasn't mistaken.

She walked up to him in greeting.

“Hello, Mr Robertson senior, I presume?”

“
Who are you?” he asked sharply.

“
Alista Lewis and that is my mother Claudine.” She pointed behind her. “She's the new gardener and housekeeper, for your son.”

“
Really? Well it's about time he hired some staff,” he replied haughtily. “Where is he, d'you know?”

“
Not exactly... He's en route to De Beers. His flight was at one from Heathrow.”

“
Damn... Well at least that explains why he isn't answering my calls. I've an urgent problem, you see. I was hoping he could help.”

“
Anything I can help you with?” she offered.

“
I don't think so...” he said, pursing his lips at the absurdity of her suggestion.

“
Try me anyway,” she persisted, despite being annoyed at his tone.

“
My daughter is unwell, she's mentally unbalanced and I can't find her. What can you do about that, hmmm?”

“
Oh no... Debra's run away?”

“
You know her?” he asked in surprise.

“
I've met her, once. At the country club.”

“
You're a member?”

“
No, I work there.”

“
Oh, I see... You're a waitress,” he added in a dismissive tone.

“
I'm trainee management actually,” she lied. “I can look for Debra with you, if you like... I'm not busy. I'd like to help Rick's family in any way I can.”

“
I'm sure you would,” he said, eyeing her suspiciously.

“
Oh for God's sake... drop the sarcastic upper class snobbery and whatever. This isn't the time for all that crap!” She finally lost her cool and exploded in a loud blast of annoyance.

“
Well really!” he replied loudly with a derisive snort.

Her mother turned around at the raised voices, finally remembering other people existed on the planet. She approached them with a disarming smile.

“Alista... Who's this...?”

“
I'm Jasper Robertson. Richard’s father.” His tone changed immediately and he dripped charm as he held out his hand to my rather beautiful and somewhat undressed mother. She flushed prettily and took his hand in her compost covered one.

“
Claudine Lewis. Pleased to meet you. You have a very strong likeness to your son, don't you?”

“
So people say. How's it going here?... My son's such a slob. I must apologise for his dreadful standards.”

“
I've seen worse, believe me... If you have time, I'll show you the much improved inside.”

“
Mr Robertson... What about Debra....?” Alista reminded him.

“
She can wait another five minutes, wherever she is. It's not the first time she's run off.”

He followed her mother up to the front door and Alista couldn't fail to see they were chit-chatty and chummy by the time they'd stepped inside and closed it. It appeared he didn't like Alista very much, but he seemed quite taken with her mother. Particularly taken with her tanned body openly displayed in her shorts and low cut vest top, she'd noticed.

Lecherous bastard.

They went inside and she waited impatiently, leaning against his car. Ten minutes later they reappeared. She couldn't believe it... they were actually giggling together like a pair of teenagers.

“I suppose I'd better go,” he said to her mother, opening the door of the Jaguar. “Duty calls... You're doing a first class job Claudine... I'll pick you up at 8 as arranged... Oh... It's cocktail dress by the way.” Then he turned to Alista, who was standing agape at the cocktail date shocker. “Right, let's go shall we Miss. Hop in then.”

She got inside the front of the car with him and sat awkwardly and stiff backed as he reversed down the driveway. She waved at her mum and her mum waved back.

“What a beautiful mother you have,” he gushed.  “I can see where you get your looks from.”

Well, well, Jasper was full of flattery all of a sudden.

She was warming to him though. She put the earlier nastiness down to anxiety about Debra. Although there was no sign of any worry going on right now.

“Where d'you think Debra might be?”

“
She doesn't usually leave the grounds, because she doesn't drive, or have the use of a car. I keep the keys on me, just in case she's ever tempted.  But she has called a taxi before and once she walked off, for ten miles in fact...”

“
Right... Well I'll search the house with you first, to make sure she's not there.”

They sat quietly as he left town and headed off into the countryside.

“How long have you and my son been seeing each other?” he asked as they passed through the village of Morden.

“
Only a few days. We met in the bar at the club.”

“
And how are things progressing, can I ask?”

“
That's our business, I think,” she said, quite offended by his nosy intrusion.

“
I'm sorry to pry Alista. But after the Cesca business, I'm concerned about him. Maybe I'm too protective. But he was in such a bad way for a while.”

“
He told me all about it Mr Robertson. The engagement and the baby, I mean. Look, don't worry, I'm a nice girl, with an even nicer mother and I'm no gold digger. You can rest assured he's quite safe with me.”

He laughed loudly. “Well I'm glad we sorted that all out. I like straight talkers.”

“That's me all over,” she grinned.

A few minutes later he turned off the road and into a large gravelled parking area. She looked at the house before her in awe.

This was a real mansion. The size the Beckham's lived in.

He parked his car under the four car port and they got out and made their way to the house.

She gazed around as they walked inside the imposing entrance hall. It was a typical older house, with a white marble floor, chandeliers and deep red walls. Masses of oil paintings of serious looking men with distinguished grey beards hung upon them. Grandad and Great Grandad Robertson, no doubt.

The living room appeared to be similarly dark and gloomy, what she could see of it. Deep green wallpaper wasn't very uplifting. It could do with her mother's touch, she thought. Some lightening up and a vase of flowers here and there. Her mum had a way with colour schemes that made things come alive.

“Nice pad... A bit on the dark side though... I'd think about magnolia, if I were you,” she suggested jokily.

“
Ha ha...” he chortled. “You're a funny little stick, aren't you?”

“
Not intentionally,” she replied.

“
I'll show you her room. Debra's I mean.”

He led the way up the stairs to the galleried landing. A dozen doors led off it and he opened one and gestured for her to go inside.

She slowly took stock... pale lilac, florals, large grey Tatty Teddies holding age 18 and 21 keys, make up and hair things... clothes, shoes, and handbags scattered around the floor. Piles of books and magazines. A typical young woman's room...

“
How old is she?” she asked.

“
Twenty four.”

“
How long has she been unwell?”

“
Umm, just over a year...”

“
And what happened, exactly. Why is she like this?”

“
She was out in London, with Mercedes, her best friend from childhood. Debra was driving them home and they were both misbehaving apparently, and she was taking little notice of the road. They had an accident as a result. She hit another car and then veered across the lanes and broke through the central reservation. Mercedes died, instantly, at least we think so. Debra was in a coma for a month, and she's never been the same since. And she blames herself for it all. She's depressed, introverted, listless, you name it. I've tried everything to help her, from new age therapy to electric shocks. She just keeps getting worse and worse.”

“
It's a lot to come to terms with. Thinking you've killed your best friend. It's the guilt.”

“
I understand all that. Really I do. But enough is enough. I'm still struggling with Elizabeth's cancer, let alone this on top.”

“
Jasper... Can I call you that?” she asked softly and he nodded and 'mmmm'ed'. “We all have crosses to bear. But right now, Debra's is the most pressing. She is obviously in mental agony.”

“
There's a little more to it than the accident as well. She drank heavily and took a lot of drugs for a while. I had to lock her up to stop her from killing herself. I don't expect that helped.”

“
Jesus.
.. It sounds a complete nightmare... For everyone. So let's start our search for her, shall we? Leave no stone unturned.”

“
I'll go downstairs, feel free to look wherever you like. Only my bedroom's in use upstairs... other than this.”  He walked to the landing and turned.

“
Thanks so much for helping Alista, sometimes I'm overwhelmed by it all. Seeing your child deteriorate before your eyes, when you had such high hopes for them is too much to bear.”

“
I'm happy to help, honestly... I like to be useful.” 

He smiled at her and walked off down the stairs. She realised just how nice he was. Not at all stuck up really. Just a worried and concerned father.

She opened Debra's wardrobe and looked inside... Not to be nosy... but just to get a feel for her. She looked at her photos, stuck on the dressing table mirror. One was Debra and the other Mercedes, she guessed. She picked up her teddies and her make up and looked in her dressing table drawers.