The Shortest Journey (4 page)

‘I don’t think Michael wants to work in London. I
think he’d quite like to come back to Taviscombe.’

‘Oh, that would be such a mistake. Of course, he’s
fond of you, but it never works, you know, keeping them tied to
your apron-strings.’

I bit back a furious denial and only said quite
mildly that Michael would doubtless make up his own mind when he’d
finished his two-year course.

Ivy returned with the tea and I was amused to see
that the tray bore a tea-pot and full tea-set, not just the single
cups that usually appeared, also slices of fruit cake and a rather
superior kind of biscuit. I thought I detected the hand of Mrs
Wilmot. Thelma poured.

Over tea Thelma’s monologue continued and I realised
that I was not going to have an opportunity for any sort of
conversation with Mrs Rossiter. When I had had a cup of tea, I got
up to leave. ‘It’s been lovely seeing you, Thelma, and hearing all
about how you’re getting on, but I must leave you to have a chat
with your mother. You’ve come all this way...’

Mrs Rossiter smiled at me and squeezed my hand. ‘The
flowers are really beautiful,’ she said. ‘Come again soon.’

Thelma stood up. ‘I’ll just come with you to your
car.’ As we walked along the corridor and down the stairs she
chatted vivaciously about life in London – the latest musical, the
newest fashionable restaurant, which television actors they were
using in their commercials. In the hall Mrs Wilmot, who was
hovering near the front door, came over.

‘Oh, Mrs Douglas, you’re not going yet, are you?’

‘No, I’m just saying goodbye to Mrs Malory. I’ll have
a word with you before I go.’

She gave a little nod of dismissal and Mrs Wilmot
drifted away, giving me a vague smile of recognition. Outside
Thelma sat down on one of the benches, empty for the moment since
their usual elderly occupants, who spent many long hours watching
for any sort of activity on the sea-front, were all indoors having
tea.

‘Can you spare a minute, Sheila? I just wanted to
have a word about Mummy.’

‘Yes, of course.’ I sat down beside her.

‘How do you think she’s looking?’

‘Well, she’s still not quite herself,’ I said
cautiously, ‘after that bout of flu, but she seems very spry to me.
What do you think?’

‘Well, to be honest, Sheila, I’m really rather
worried about her. You know I always want to do what’s best for
her; that’s why I persuaded her to move out of the Manor. It really
was too much for her. And she seems very happy at West Lodge.’

This was a statement rather than a question and
something impelled me to say, ‘I know she couldn’t stay at the
Manor but it seems a pity, when she’s so active, that she couldn’t
have just taken a flat in Taviscombe or something. I’m sure Annie
Fisher would have been happy to go on looking after her.’

An expression of distaste crossed her face. ‘Oh no,
that wouldn’t have done at all. Annie was getting far too familiar
– a very encroaching type of woman. It simply wouldn’t have
answered. West Lodge is the best place for Mummy now. She’s settled
in beautifully and has made lots of friends.’

I looked at her enquiringly and she said impatiently,
‘Oh, that Polish woman – I can never remember her name – and I’m
sure there are plenty of others. They seem a very jolly crowd
there.’

The inappropriateness of this phrase in relation to
West Lodge stunned me into silence.

‘I worry so much less,’ she continued, ‘now that I
know she is somewhere safe where she can be looked after properly.
Of course, you were so lucky being able to look after your mother
at home. You don’t know how difficult it is, Sheila, to look after
things from a distance. The responsibility is so much greater – one
is always on edge wondering how things are going.’

My mother had been an invalid for many years and I
had indeed been lucky to have a loving husband who insisted that
she made her home with us. I was lucky, too, that I had been able
to have the kind of career (if career it could be called) that
could be pursued from home. Still, I rather resented Thelma’s bland
assumption that it had all been so easy. Also I was pretty sure
that as soon as Thelma was on the train to Paddington (first class,
tax deductible) she dismissed her mother from her mind.

‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘I really am worried about her.
She looks very frail. I’m sure she’s lost a lot of weight, although
I believe the food at West Lodge is excellent. And, of course,
there’s the angina. I know Dr Moore is most concerned about
her.’

‘But I thought he said that it was only a mild
condition and that she’d be fine if she didn’t do anything too
strenuous. At least, that’s what she told me.’

‘Isn’t that like her? Always making light of things.
But I assure you that it really is serious – she could go at any
time. Or at least, she might have to be moved to a hospital at a
moment’s notice. And have you noticed how she can’t remember
things from one minute to the next?’

‘Well, no, I haven’t. She always seems to me to be
very much on the ball! I only wish I were half as alert as she is.
My memory’s shocking these days. Do you know, I often have to go
all the way downstairs and come back up again just to remember what
I went upstairs for in the first place!’

Thelma seemed uninterested in my problems. ‘Of course
she always has been very vague.’

‘Oh, not vague’ I protested.

Thelma ignored my interruption. ‘And you know how
these things get worse in old age. I don’t say that she’s actually
senile...’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’

‘Well, not yet, but as she gets older it’s going to
get more difficult. There is, you know, a great deal of money
involved.’ There was real concern in her voice now. ‘Things were
left in a very unsatisfactory way when Daddy died. There was this
stupid Trust – something my grandfather set up – and, as things
stand, Mummy and her sister Maud have control of what amounts to a
small fortune.’

‘Well,’ I said provocatively, ‘it’s marvellous to
think that your mother needn’t worry about money. I know West Lodge
is frightfully expensive.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Thelma brushed this consideration
aside. ‘But you see if she should get really senile, then it would
be very difficult. That’s why I want her to give me power of
attorney.’

So that was why Thelma had paid a birthday visit to
her mother.

‘Have you mentioned it to her yet?’ I asked.

‘Yes, today. But she’s being rather silly about it. I
mean, it’s for her sake; I’m not trying to swindle her out of her
inheritance or anything. After all, I am her daughter!’

‘So what did she say?’

‘That she’d have to think about it and talk to Mr
Robertson. That stupid old fool – do you know he doesn’t even have
a computer in that dreary Dickensian office of his! I can imagine
what his advice would be!’

‘What does Alan think?’

‘Oh, Alan!’ she said impatiently. ‘He’s no use. I
tried to ring him at that Ecology Centre of his – it’s somewhere
near Harare – but they said he was on his way back to England for
some conference or other. Anyway, he’s not here, he hasn’t got to
cope. Typical of him to go swanning around the world and leave me
to do everything for Mummy. He just about sends her a card for
Christmas and that’s all! Gordon thinks I’m absolutely right – you
know what a good business head he has and we’ve got Simon (he’s our
lawyer and an absolute charmer!) to do the paperwork. All she has
to do is sign.’

‘I can see how she would feel,’ I said. ‘I suppose we
would all like to look after our own affairs while we can.’

‘But that’s so
selfish
,’ Thelma said
vehemently. ‘It will just leave us with a dreadful mess to clear up
after she’s gone. Look, Sheila’ – she lowered her voice
persuasively – ‘she thinks a lot of you. I’m sure you could
persuade her – that it’s all for her own good. You really would be
helping her in the long run, and I know you’ve always been fond of
her.’

I was amazed and horrified and said rather formally,
‘I don’t think I could do that, Thelma. It’s something she must
decide for herself.’

She was obviously furious with me and, remembering
how she used to vent her temper when she was a child by pinching my
arm, I instinctively drew away from her. Controlling herself, she
smiled at me and said, ‘Well, if she does discuss the matter with
you, do try and make her see sense.’

She got up abruptly from the seat. ‘I must get back.
I want to have a word with Mrs Wilmot before I go and I’ve got a
taxi coming at four thirty. I must get the five thirty-five from
Taunton – we’re having dinner with some clients at the Dorchester
this evening and it’s going to be a hellish rush. Still’ – she gave
me her rather saccharine smile – ‘I simply had to pop down for a
birthday visit.’

‘I’m sure she appreciates it,’ I said, getting up
(rather more stiffly than Thelma). ‘It was a lovely surprise to see
you. Please give my regards to Gordon.’

She gave me the smile again and a little wave and
went back into West Lodge. I had left my car up by the harbour and
was walking towards it when I ran into my friend Rosemary. Well,
actually, she nearly ran into me since she was being pulled along
by two large dogs, her own black Labrador and a brindled boxer
which belonged to her daughter Jilly.

‘Oh, Sheila, I wanted to have a word about the Red
Cross Bring and Buy. Can you come along while I just put these two
in the car? I can’t possibly talk while they’re rushing along like
this. Dusky’s fine on her own, but Alpha simply eggs her on. Do you
know what the little monster did yesterday? She ate a whole
hairbrush, bristles and all! I was frantic – I rushed her round to
the vet – just left the supper to burn on the stove – but he said
she was all right.’

‘She certainly looks all right now,’ I said, as Alpha
leaped up at me and tried to lick my face lovingly. Dusky rushed
round in circles barking her approval and winding the leads around
Rosemary’s legs.

‘Here,’ I said, ‘you give me Alpha’s lead.’

Somehow we got to Rosemary’s car and bundled them
into the back.

‘Goodness!’ Rosemary slammed the door on them
quickly. ‘They’re so strong.’

After clambering back and forth across the front
seats they suddenly collapsed on top of each other and went to
sleep.

‘Do I gather that Jilly and Roger are away?’ I
asked.

‘Yes. The baby’s due quite soon now so they thought
perhaps a long weekend while they still can.’

‘You could have done without Alpha just now,’ I
said.

Rosemary’s mother had just had a slight stroke. With
her iron constitution she had got over the effects very quickly,
but she had seized the opportunity to tighten her hold over poor
Rosemary, whom she kept running around obeying a multiplicity of
largely contradictory commands.

‘Well, she is being particularly awkward at the
moment. She’s decided she wants a stair-lift put in. She’s never
thought of it before but apparently a crony of hers has got one and
told her that you can get a grant for it. You can imagine the chaos
that will cause!’

Mrs Dudley, though well off, was not one to pass up
anything that might be going free, whether she really wanted it or
not.

‘And, of course,’ Rosemary went on, ‘there’s no hope
that she’ll let me deal with it; you know how she always insists on
doing everything in her own way. She’ll get the cheapest possible
builder – actually there aren’t many left in Taviscombe that she
hasn’t quarrelled with – and the job will be done badly and I’ll
have to clear up the mess because by then she’ll have convinced
herself that it was all my fault in the first place.’

‘If there was any justice,’ I said viciously, ‘she’d
fall off the wretched thing and break her neck!’

Rosemary giggled. ‘Not with my luck. She’d just
fracture a wrist or something and need constant attention. I
wouldn’t mind if she’d just occasionally say thank you or make some
sign of appreciation, but she’s always going on about how nobody
ever does anything for her. She was furious when Jilly and Roger
left Alpha with me.’

‘I can imagine,’ I said. ‘She said that you were
looking very tired and that you did too much for other people.’

‘How did you guess!’

‘Talking of doing things,’ I said, ‘what about the
Red Cross thing?’

‘Oh, yes. We can’t have the Church Hall that day, so
we must either change the date – and you remember what hell it was
trying to get a time that suited everyone – or we must find
somewhere else.’

‘Oh, Lord! I suppose we should have booked it ages in
advance. Spring Fayres proliferate almost as much as Christmas
Fêtes nowadays. What about the Methodist Hall in Harbour Road?’

‘No good – they’ve got the Ramblers’ AGM.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, why aren’t they out rambling
instead of cluttering up the only other possible hall! Leave it
with me and I’ll see if I can persuade the Hon. Liz to let us have
it at the Dower House. We’d probably get a better crowd there –
people always like to go and gawp.’

The Honourable Elizabeth Clough was the relict of our
local lord of the manor and could sometimes be bullied – or
flattered – into letting us hold the occasional event in the great
hall of her stately home.

‘Oh, bless you, Sheila, that would be a weight off my
mind. I wish to God I could get Mother to go into West Lodge for a
couple weeks, just till after the baby’s born. I do want to be with
Jilly then. But you know how stubborn she is.’

‘I went to West Lodge today,’ I said, ‘to see Mrs
Rossiter. And guess what, Horrible Thelma was there.’

Rosemary pulled a face. ‘I haven’t seen her for ages.
Is she as Horrible as ever?’

‘Oh, worse. Poor Mrs Rossiter – Thelma’s trying to
make her sign a power of attorney.’