Freya North 3-Book Collection: Secrets, Chances, Rumours. Freya North
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you're unkind – it was a prolapse. It can happen to anyone.’
‘I'm not unkind,’ Mary said very straight, quiet but sharp.
Laura wanted to say, I know you're not – it's your condition that's so unkind. Memory loss one day, inertia the next, sudden aggression or unpleasantness but, cruellest of all, acute lucidity every now and then. ‘Catherine – Mrs Tiley – can't help it,’ Laura said.
‘Nor can I,’ Mary said, stopping, ‘nor can I.’ She looked at Laura squarely. ‘I may not have had a prolapse but I know something dreadful is happening to me. They're right to call me mad or doolally. I've heard them. I feel it coming. I know I try to run away – but often it's only when you bring me back again that I know I've even been.’
Laura linked arms with her and gave a little squeeze.
‘Swallows is very comfortable, Laura dear. And you are a love. But I don't want to belong at Swallows. More than that, though, I don't want the mind I have now. It's like Babel in here sometimes.’ She tapped the side of her head. ‘And I'm trapped.’
‘Let's get away from this cliff – there's a strong wind today. Let's follow the road round. Let's buy a fancy something from Chocolini's. Let's not talk about sad things.’
‘Tomorrow – even this afternoon – Catherine might be talking about me because I may be talking claptrap again but of course I won't know it.’
‘Let's not talk about Mrs Tiley.’
‘I don't like what's happening to me, dear. It's the normal periods in between that make it so dreadful. I almost long for the day to come when I'll be permanently gaga. What fun I shall provide Mrs Tiley and the gang then.’
‘Come, Mary, be kind to yourself.’
They turned into Milton Street, the jewel streets running down from Marine Parade acting as a filter to the brunt of the slicing wind that can come off the North Sea at all times of the year.
‘There's that girl of Joe's,’ Mary suddenly said.
Laura looked ahead and saw Tess peering in through the ornamental grilles in front of the dusty old windows of Keith's Sports. ‘So it is.’
‘Haven't seen Joe, have we. Not for some time.’
‘No,’ Laura said, ‘we haven't, not for a bit.’
‘Dear!’ Mary called ahead. ‘Dear! Emmeline and mother! Emmeline and mother!’
Tess was surprised to hear her baby's name and more surprised to see who called her. She waited under the old iron and glass canopy as they approached.
‘What is your name, dear?’ Mary asked. ‘Laura here thinks it's Tess but I don't think that's right. Joe's girl isn't called Tess, I keep telling her. Joe's girl is called Kate. It's been Kate for a long, long time.’
Kate? Who's Kate?
Laura could see Tess trying to compute the information.
‘Not Kate,’ Tess said as if it wasn't an issue, ‘it really is Tess.’
‘Well, I liked Kate,’ Mary said indignantly, pursing her lips, which tempted Tess to say, well, Joe likes me.
‘Chocolini's,’ Laura said as if it was a password or peace offering. ‘You coming, Tess?’
Ice cream was a luxury and an extravagance that Tess couldn't allow to cross her mind too often. It was, however, the perfect day for one, with May so close and the weather mild.
‘Where are we going?’ Mary asked.
‘To Chocolini's – the fancy place you love,’ Laura said.
‘Would you like an ice cream, Mary?’ Tess asked, clearing her throat.
‘I'll have vanilla. A licky, not a cup,’ Mary said. ‘Kate, you are kind.’
‘Tess,’ Tess said quietly, feeling disconcerted by Kate, ‘I'm Tess.’
She had to extend the offer to Laura. And she couldn't deny Em. And it would look very strange if she was the only one not to have an ice cream so Tess rifled through her purse and paid as quickly as she could, snapping the clasp shut when she was midway through calculating what remained. Mary and Em derived much merriment swapping a lick of strawberry for a lick of vanilla and they chuckled and conversed as easily as if they were contemporaries.
‘He's gone again, has he?’ Laura asked Tess, aside. Tess nodded. ‘He didn't come by, you know, not this time. I don't know how, but she always knows when he's in town, does Mary. But he didn't come by this time, like.’
Tess felt compromised. She didn't want to consider that Joe might not be the dutiful son she'd like to earmark him as. But nor did she want to talk about Joe – she'd much rather ask about Kate. ‘He was very busy. I don't know when he's coming home. A week or so, I imagine.’ How to slip Kate in? Think of a way!
They licked their ice creams, both thoughtful for different reasons.
‘You been together long, then?’
‘Who?’
‘You and Joe?’
‘Me and Joe?’ The ice cream tasted suddenly more lovely.
‘You're an item, aren't you? Mary says you're Joe's girl.’
Tess knew she had a single chance, before confirming or denying this. ‘And Kate?’
‘Kate?’
‘Mary's mixing me up with Kate today.’
‘Don't worry about that, pet – she called me Hilary yesterday, if that helps.’ Only it didn't help Tess who wanted to know about Kate.
‘I'm just the housekeeper. Sitter.’
The women had not looked at each other during this exchange. But they did so now. And Laura gave Tess a canny smile, accompanied by a snort which said, who are you trying to kid, hen? And Tess gave a fleeting widening of her eyes which said, don't! you're making me blush!
‘You can start off as one thing and end as another,’ Laura said, ‘like our Aunt Win.’
Tess wondered what she meant but a slow wink from Laura suggested it was enough.
‘And Kate?’ Tess tried again. It sounded contrived, but at least it was out.
Only Mary had finished her ice cream. ‘That was lovely, thank you, Tess.’
Much as Tess still wanted to hear about Kate, it was nicer to hear Mary using her own name again. Tess decided to leave it. She remembered how her grandmother had warned against prying. It's like sunbathing, she used to say – easy enough not to know when you've had enough and suddenly you're burnt.
So, together with Laura, she linked arms with Mary and, three abreast with the pushchair zigzagging, they monopolized the pavement all the way back to Swallows.
‘Come by soon,’ Laura said.
‘I will,’ said Tess. She turned to Mary. ‘See you soon, Mary.’
‘Not if I see you first, Kate.’
This time, Tess was overtly disappointed that the answering machine remained empty on her return. This time she said out loud, why don't you phone me? Then, finding herself standing stock-still staring at nothing on her way to the kitchen, she told herself to get a bloody grip and just bloody phone him instead. She took the piece of paper off the calendar hook and scrutinized the number she knew by heart.
Phone him to say what?
When are you coming home?
Why haven't you called?
Who's Kate?
What basis, though, did she have for asking any of those questions? After all, she had nothing to go on, nothing