Summer at the Lake (29 page)

His ears thrumming with noise and his boredom threshold severely breached, he did the only thing he could: he took out his mobile pretending that it had just rung. ‘Sorry,’ he said, waving the phone at the two girls and then at Steve who had made contact with a young lad behind the bar and was communicating by sign language.

Grabbing his coat, he climbed the stairs fast, dodging incoming punters, and ducked onto the street. Outside on the pavement, he negotiated the huddle of smokers and the beefy guy in the ill-fitting suit with an FBI-style earpiece standing guard over the ridiculous red carpet – his job to ensure the club’s ‘fair door policy’ wasn’t compromised.

Away from the noise, Adam breathed in the cool night air. What the hell was he doing here? This wasn’t his scene. It never had been. Even in his twenties he’d been too old for this kind of place. A car with a something-to-prove exhaust and check-me-out music blasting from its four lowered windows drove slowly by. It was the final nail in the coffin of his evening and without a backward glance, he strode off down the street, thinking that all it had taken was one phone call from a friend he hadn’t seen in ages, and
bam!
he’d agreed to a night from hell. Oh please! Had he really been so desperate to kick-start his social life?

He thought back to this time last week when he and Floriana had gone for dinner at the Trout in Wolvercote. Granted it had become something of a tourist trap, thanks to
Morse
and
Lewis
, but it was still a safe bet in a mad and crazy world full of elitist malarkey. Smiling, he remembered how he and Floriana had experienced a moment of being star-struck when they’d spotted Thom Yorke and his family having a meal together. They were there just like any other ordinary family having a quiet night out; there was nobody hassling them. Driving home afterwards Floriana had burst into song with a surprisingly good rendition of ‘I’m a Creep’. Caught up in her enthusiasm he’d joined in with her and they followed it up with ‘Karma Police’, though not necessarily with all the right words or right notes.

Thinking of Floriana, and acting on impulse, he sent her a text. He knew that if she were able to reply she would. What was more, she would say something that would cheer him up. She usually did.
Hope you’re having a better Saturday night than me
, he texted.

Ten seconds later his mobile rang. ‘I trump your shitty Saturday, Mr Strong, with a squally nephew and niece and a sister who can give the US a run for its money when it comes to policing the world.’

‘Not even close, Miss Day,’ he said, pleased to hear from her. ‘I’ve been holed up in a club with two girls who wouldn’t know where to place the US on a map.’

‘But are they cute?’

‘No.’

‘Not even a little bit?’

‘You’re not hearing me, are you? I’m in dire need of immunisation from catching stupid sickness, so for the love of God say something intelligent to save me. Give me one of your amazingly obscure facts.’

There was a small pause and then: ‘Did you know that Mozart had a pet starling that would mimic the music Mozart played on the piano?’

‘Did he?’

‘He surely did. Mozart kept the bird as a pet for three years and when it died, he wrote a poem for it and put on a lavish memorial dinner in its honour.’

‘How extraordinary.’

‘More extraordinary still, the bird did something that nobody could understand because, despite being able to mimic perfectly the notes Mozart played, there was one piece of music that contained a note that should have been G-major, but the bird always sang it as G-sharp.’

‘Now that’s one impressive starling. Almost as impressive as you.’

‘Why thank you. Feeling better now?’

‘Infinitely.’

‘In that case, get back into that club, Mr Strong. You have a duty to perform.’

‘What duty?’

‘To dazzle and impress the two hotties. Go throw some moves on the dance floor.’

‘Not a chance. I’ve had enough, I’m heading for home.’

‘Wuss!’

‘And a goodnight to you too!’

Smiling happily to himself, he picked up his pace and set off down the road, turning left onto St Giles where he’d left his car.

He was unlocking it when he remembered Steve. Hastily he sent him a text –
Sorry, emergency problem I had to deal with, speak to you tomorrow
. He then drove on to Summertown humming to himself.

He was letting himself in at home when he realised what he’d been humming – the overture from
The Marriage of Figaro
. Could the starling sing that? he wondered. And would Floriana and her whirring database of a mind ever cease to surprise him?

It was a beautiful morning in March, the softly blue sky was clear and beguiling and from her bed Esme could see the daffodils down in the garden heralding the true start of spring, taking over from where the hellebores and snowdrops had hinted at what was to come.

Under strict doctor’s orders – orders that bordered on the draconian – she was feeling wretched and confined to bed for the foreseeable future, yet the sight of those simple yellow flowers cheered her immensely. She loved daffodils; they were such valiant, no-nonsense flowers with their perfectly formed trumpets serenading a song of optimism after the long dark months of winter. A humble flower in so many ways, it symbolised friendship, which was something Esme had come to value again since Adam and Floriana had come into her life. It wasn’t that she had been antisocial before she’d met them, it was simply that her previous friendships had dwindled as, one by one, her friends had died. She had known Adam and Floriana for a scant three months but had become extremely fond of them; she would hate to lose their companionship now.

On the bed with her, Euridice was kneading the coverlet with her paws, getting herself comfortable. In front of the cat was the toy mouse Floriana had made for her. She was so attached to it, she often carried it round with her in her mouth; it was like a kitten to her. ‘You’re in hiding, aren’t you?’ Esme said in a voice little more than a raspy whisper. ‘You’re scared to be alone with Krysta.’

Settled now, the cat blinked back at Esme, but flinched at the sound of the vacuum cleaner starting up on the landing and bumping against anything that got in its way – skirting boards, tables, chair legs, and a small cat if it should happen to make the mistake of getting in Krysta’s formidable path.

Closing her eyes, Esme leant back tiredly, sinking gratefully into the softness of the pillows. She hated to be confined like this, but the terror of her health worsening and being hauled off to hospital, as she’d been threatened with, was enough to make her do exactly what the doctor had instructed so that she would recover from an infuriating chest infection which, to her dismay, had turned into pneumonia. Rest, warmth, plenty of liquids and regular nourishing food were the orders she had been given. Bless them, both Adam and Floriana were doing sterling work keeping an eye on her, as well as trying to amuse her and lift her spirits. How would she ever repay their kindness?

Adam was now living next door – though perhaps camping was a better way to describe the basic manner of his existence amongst the rubble and chaos of the rebuilding work that was going on – but as busy as he was, he had still found time to install a television and a mini hi-fi system with a radio and CD player in her bedroom, both items he said he had going spare. The television was the biggest revelation to her, not just because she had always considered it disgracefully decadent having one in the bedroom, but because she hadn’t bothered with a set in years.

‘But I don’t have a licence,’ she had said to Adam.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ he’d assured her, ‘I’ll get one sorted for you.’

After she’d insisted on paying Adam to organise it, she hoped he had, as otherwise it might not be the hospital she was taken away to, but prison!

It was good of him to provide her with something to keep the boredom at bay and once she’d had the energy to stay awake long enough, she had begun to watch a selection of programmes during the day, which left her thinking that the world was currently obsessed with buying and selling property and antiques, and when they weren’t doing that they were cooking.

From beyond the bedroom door the roar of the vacuum cleaner stopped and then came the sound of voices. Opening her eyes, Esme recognised Floriana’s voice. Some sort of discussion appeared to be taking place, then light footsteps hurried up the stairs. At the sound of a knock on the bedroom door, Esme managed a feeble, ‘If that’s you, Floriana, come in.’

‘And if it isn’t me,’ the girl asked, stepping in, ‘what should I do?’

‘I’ll decide that later,’ Esme said with a smile as Euridice went over to the edge of the bed to say hello – no longer did she spurn the girl in the way she used to. But Adam was still her favourite; her special one.

‘How are you today?’ Floriana asked, removing her coat and hanging it on the back of the chair next to the bed. ‘Feeling any better?’

‘A little.’

‘Bit by bit, then.’ She sat down and at once Euridice sprang onto her lap. ‘I bought you some chicken soup from Buddy Joe’s,’ she said. ‘I’ll reheat it when you’re ready for your lunch. Oh, and Buddy and Joe say hi and want to know if there’s anything they can deliver.’

‘Oh dear, you’re all being so sweet; I feel I’m putting everyone to so much trouble. Shouldn’t you be at work?’

‘I’m on my way there next; Tony’s got a group of children lined up for me.’

‘What is it today, the Potter tour?’

‘Not specifically, this is one for deprived children; it’s to give them a taste of something inspiring, not to say aspirational. They have a tour round Brasenose, a quick look in the Ashmolean and then we end up at Christ Church for Evensong.’

‘I haven’t done that in a long while,’ Esme said wistfully. ‘I used to love going to Evensong at Christ Church; it was always the best in my opinion.’

‘When you’re well enough, we could go together, if you want. Better still, we’ll rope Adam in and he can drive us there in his flashy new Mercedes.’

Unable to imagine having the strength or energy to go downstairs, never mind get across town to Christ Church, Esme said, ‘He didn’t tell me he’d bought a new car.’

Floriana smiled and rolled her eyes. ‘You know what he’s like, you have to wrench things out of him.’

And you’re just the person to do that, thought Esme with a half smile.

‘Is the doctor calling in today?’ Floriana asked, stroking Euridice’s back and making her purr.

‘I fear he will be. He has the coldest hands of any person I’ve ever known.’

Laughing, Floriana bent down to her bag on the floor. ‘I’ve brought you something else,’ she said. ‘It’s not a present, per se, but something Adam and I thought would be useful to you, maybe even fun.’

‘You really shouldn’t, you’ve spoilt me too much already.’

‘Don’t get too excited, it’s only a mobile phone. It’s an old pay-as-you-go one I had knocking around at home. I’ve topped it up for you. If you’re feeling well enough, I’ll give you a crash course in how to use it, if you like.’

Esme stared at the device doubtfully. ‘But I have a phone, right here,’ she said, indicating the one on the bedside table.

‘True. But this mobile will give you the convenience of being able to contact Adam or me with a text when we’re unable to answer a call from you.’

‘But I can leave a message on your phones as it is.’

‘Yes, but this way we can text you.’

‘Would you want to?’

Floriana laughed. ‘Why don’t you give it a try? Most people think they won’t benefit from a mobile initially, but they soon discover the convenience and fun of it. Here, let me show you how to send a text. We’ll send one to Adam, shall we?’

‘I don’t want to bother him,’ Esme said apprehensively.

‘Trust me, he’ll be delighted to hear from you. Then when we’ve done that, I’ll heat up your soup for lunch.’

To Esme’s profound surprise, not only did she manage to follow Floriana’s patient instructions, but within a few seconds the mobile trilled in her hand and a message appeared on the screen. ‘Look!’ she said excitedly, putting her reading glasses back on. ‘Is it from Adam?’

‘Touch the icon for MESSAGE and see. That’s it. What does it say?’

‘
Hi Esme, I see Floriana’s talked you into the mobile. Well done!
’ Feeling absurdly thrilled, she said, ‘How do I reply to him?’

‘See, one text and you’re hooked already!’

Following Floriana’s instructions, Esme painstakingly tapped out a reply –
Awaiting Dr Death and his cold hands
– then tapped SEND.

A loud knock at the door made them both jump.

It was Krysta, looking as unsmiling as ever. ‘I finished. I go now.’

‘Thank you, Krysta,’ Esme said, ‘I’ll see you next week.’

When the front door banged shut downstairs, Floriana said, ‘She’s a bit scary, isn’t she?’

‘She’s a good worker, if a little brusque. Oh, what’s this?’ Esme held up the trilling mobile for Floriana to see.

‘Looks like another message from Adam.’

Esme tapped the MESSAGE icon as before. ‘It’s more than a message, I think.’

Putting Euridice on the floor and leaning over to get a better look, Floriana said, ‘He’s sent you a photo. Tap there and you’ll see it in a bigger format.’

‘Oh, how clever, it’s a picture of him at a desk. It must be his office.’

‘What does his message say?’

‘
Welcome to the technological age
,’ Esme read. ‘
Next stop, the internet!
Now that,’ she said with a weary shake of her head, ‘I can promise you will most certainly not happen.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ Floriana said with a smile. ‘Now while I leave you to reply to Adam on your own, I’ll get your lunch ready. Does Euridice need feeding?’

‘No, Adam saw to her first thing this morning before he set off for work.’

‘What a minxy little thing you are,’ Floriana said to the cat, ‘you’ve got Adam completely wrapped around your little paw, haven’t you?’

Down in the kitchen, she tipped the soup into a pan, found the orange juice and wholemeal bread she bought yesterday, buttered a slice and laid a tray to take back upstairs.