59 Memory Lane. Celia Anderson
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need to have children, did you, May?’ says Julia.
May winces and shakes her head. Julia’s fighting back. No need to mention the fact that Charles wasn’t much of a one for procreation. In fact, until she found him in a compromising position with the baker’s ‘boy’, she’d assumed it was her fault for not being attractive enough. Sex wasn’t a big deal for him even at the start of their marriage. More experienced in bed than Charles at the time – unusual for those days – May was never one to follow the rules. Even so, she didn’t mind much when the occasional fumbles stopped and she and Charles settled into a quiet life of companionship.
Things weren’t quite the same between them after that seedy incident, but at least they stopped going through the motions of pretending they wanted to sleep in the same bed. Oh, the bliss when he moved into the spare room. She largely ignored her husband’s occasional flings, and she felt he was always very discreet. May even managed to have a few brief affairs herself, which livened up her life considerably. But as for children, that’s a whole other story, and not one for Julia’s ears.
Andy knocks loudly and bursts in through the open back door at this point, breaking the unsettling train of thought. ‘You ready for home yet, May?’ he says.
‘Yes, anytime you are.’ May struggles to her feet, clutching her handbag close to her chest. She can hardly wait to get home and see what nuggets the precious envelope holds.
‘Don’t rush off. Can’t I get you a drink, Andy?’ Julia asks.
Noooo, thinks May, I want to go home. Say no, Andy.
‘It’s OK, I need to get back to Tamsin,’ he says. ‘She’s next door with Violet, and I think she’ll outstay her welcome if I don’t hurry up back. I don’t want to push my luck.’
‘You’re lucky having Vi to help out, aren’t you?’ says Julia. ‘She’s got her hands full with all her grandchildren these days. She must be a glutton for punishment, as my mother used to say.’
‘I’d have Tamsin more if you needed me to, you know that,’ says May. ‘I’m not in my dotage yet, you know.’ She sniffs. Sometimes she thinks Vi takes liberties, almost as if she and Andy are related.
May takes Andy’s arm and lets herself be escorted over the road, after thanking Julia politely for her tea. It’s been a surprisingly pleasant hour or two, even with the underlying spikiness, but she’s rather alarmed at the speed with which Julia’s memories are flowing away. She bites her lip, guilt rearing its head. Her father always told her not to take too much from one person. A few memories here and there can always be spared, was his motto. Still, May’s need is greater than Julia’s at the moment, if she’s ever to reach that magical birthday.
Tamsin hears them approaching and jumps back over the fence from Vi’s on the other side, into her own garden.
‘Bye, Vi,’ she yells. ‘Hey, that rhymes, did you see what I did there, Dad? I said, “Bye, Vi”!’
‘Very clever,’ says Andy, yawning.
‘Bye Vi, have a pie, bet you wish that you could fly,’ sings Tamsin, skipping into the house ahead of her father.
‘I can’t wait till she’s in bed tonight,’ Andy mumbles, making sure May’s safely inside her own house before he leaves her. As he gives May a quick hug, Andy’s phone begins to ring and he pauses to answer it, raising his eyebrows in apology.
The conversation is frustratingly one-sided but May knows who’s on the other end. It’s the woman she thinks of as That Candice.
‘I can’t tonight,’ mutters Andy. ‘No, Vi’s already done more than enough for me this week. I’m not prepared to ask her to sit for a whole evening. No … I know it’s been ages … Well, maybe next week … We could take the kids swimming after school. Look, I’m sorry, OK? Bye.’
He disconnects, a deep frown line between his eyes.
‘It must be hard work bringing Tamsin up on your own, love.’ May looks at Andy with her head on one side. ‘Did you never think of …?’ She stops, not wanting to offend him, and he half turns back, his mind already on Tamsin’s welfare.
‘Marrying again? It’s fine, don’t look so worried, you’re not saying anything I haven’t thought myself lately. But how could I put someone else in Allie’s place?’
‘That’s one way of looking at it.’
Andy grins at May. ‘Anyway, whatever happens, it won’t be Candice, if that’s what’s bothering you.’
‘Good. You can do better. I’d watch your step, though. That one’s got other ideas.’
He laughs. ‘Maybe. Got to go, or Tamsin will decide to run her own bath and flood the landing again. The carpet’s only just drying out from last time.’
May waves him off and sits down in her favourite easy chair, ready to unveil the new letter. This one’s from Will. May remembers him as rather an egotistical young man, beautiful but sulky. He writes:
That blasted ring, they go on and on and on about it. If I’d seen it, I’d tell them, wouldn’t I? You know I’d never take what’s yours, and I believe Julia should have it, to save arguments between the girls. Mother says it’s our family’s lucky charm, and it has to be passed down to the right person at the right time or we’ll be doomed. What a load of twaddle. Anyway, how are things with you? Have you seen anything of Charles? Has he asked after me? I might see if I can get a few sailing lessons from him next time I’m down. You could mention it, if you run into him?
May reads on, letting the delicious tingle spread from her fingers right through her body, warm and sensuous, like melted chocolate. It’s a sensory overload. Better than champagne. Better than caviar. And a lot better than sex, in most of May’s experiences, at least. Not all, but most. One exception stands out, but it’s best not to think about him.
The phone on the sideboard rings, shocking May out of her blissful reverie. She gets up unsteadily and goes over to answer it.
‘Hello, May, it’s Julia. Just checking you’re home safely.’
‘Well, of course I am,’ says May rather too sharply, irritated beyond measure at this foolishness. What could have happened to her between Julia’s house and her own, supported by Andy? Then she relents. She’s enjoyed her time across the road, and if she upsets Julia, she won’t be asked back. ‘I’m sorry, you startled me. I think I might have been nodding off.’
Julia clears her throat. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re relaxing. Erm … I don’t suppose you noticed a letter when you were over with me earlier, did you?’
‘I noticed heaps of them, dear,’ says May, chuckling. ‘Why?’
‘I seem to have lost one I was looking at earlier.’
May hears a sob, quickly stifled. ‘Are you feeling quite well, Julia?’ she asks.
‘No … no, I’m not. May, I can’t remember which letter I was reading last, or who it was from, and I can’t find it, and …’ Julia tails off, gulping for breath.
‘Now, calm down and get yourself a nice mug of hot chocolate, or something similar,’ says May. ‘I think you might have been overdoing it, delving into old times so soon after losing poor Don.’
‘Not just Don. I’m losing my mind too, May. This is the beginning of the end. What am I going to do?’
May chews on her knuckle. How should she deal with this? She seems to recall something along the same lines happening before once or twice with people from the village soon after she’d taken their mementoes, although it could have been more common than she realised, because why would the villagers bother to tell her if they’d forgotten random things about their past lives? She’d only found out by accident a couple of times over the years, three at the most. It’s as if her harvesting sometimes leaves them with gaping holes in