Chapter 12
12
‘There’s mildew and leaf spot on the winter pansies,’ Eloise said, bending down to remove a couple of the affected leaves.
‘You’ll get your hands dirty,’ Lisa replied, giving a few final sniffs and putting Eloise’s hanky up the sleeve of her shirt. ‘I’ll wash this and get it back to you. Thank you,’ she added.
Eloise waved a hand dismissively. ‘I’ve a drawerful in my bedroom at home. Do keep it…’ She broke off as Bex appeared at their side, a rather lovely camel cashmere coat over her arm.
‘Ah, Eloise, there you are. Come on, we’ve got all the board games out. Clarissa needs a partner for Snakes and Ladders.’ Bex held out her hand.
‘Just like at prep school on wet playtimes.’ Eloise gave Bex such a look, Lisa wanted to laugh.
‘She’s OK here with me, Bex.’
‘Oh, it’s far too cold to be out here.’
‘I’m not a child,’ Eloise said indignantly. ‘Although if I stay in this place much longer, I’ll have reverted to being one. Pass me my coat, would you? I’ll stay and help the gardener. I think the state of Granny’s roses have upset her.’
Bex glanced across at Lisa, taking in her tear-strewn face. ‘You OK, Lisa? Jess said you hadn’t been well.’
‘I’m absolutely fine and more than happy to have Eloise out here with me. Mind you, I think she could do with an old coat and some gloves if she’s going to get stuck in.’ Lisa took Bex to one side as Eloise continued to examine the pansies. ‘She seems absolutely… with it , Bex. And she’s only what? Early seventies? Why on earth is she in a care home for the elderly, for heaven’s sake?’
‘Dementia. I gather Eloise set the kitchen on fire when she left a pan on the stove and forgot about it. She’s been wandering the streets; the police have had to find her and bring her back on a couple of occasions. I think the idea is that she’s here to give the husband a bit of a break. He’s almost eighty and not in good health himself. According to him she’d become too much for him. Aggressive even.’
‘And her children?’
‘Not sure. One lives in Australia, I believe. There’s a daughter, although I think there’s a problem there as well.’
‘A problem?’
Bex gave a subtle indication with her hand that the problem was alcohol.
‘Oh, right. It all seems a bit strange to me. Anyway, leave her out here with me. She seems to know what she’s doing and I’ll bring her back in when she’s fed up or if she gets too cold.’
‘You sure? I’ll get Bianca to bring out an old coat. There’ll be one somewhere.’ Bex patted Eloise’s arm and headed back down the garden to the house.
‘So, do you have children, Eloise?’
‘I have four.’
‘Four? I’ve three myself.’ Lisa turned back to the roses.
‘Don’t think Granny won’t be after you.’ Eloise raised an eye. ‘She hated cutting anything back too much.’
‘Granny?’
‘Yes, of course. She lived here until Daddy took over the mill and we moved here when Grandpa Frank died. Mummy refused to have Granny living with us – they never got on – so Granny agreed to move to a much smaller house in the village. A lovely cottage down by the duck pond. But, only on the condition that she be allowed back to do the garden.’
‘Oh?’ Lisa didn’t turn, realising that Eloise was much more likely to talk if she wasn’t being barraged with questions.
‘I never liked this house. And I don’t know why on earth I’m back here now. With all these old people in every room and not one of them Granny. Mind you, I’m glad Mummy’s not here. Now she really was a bitch. The biggest bitch of all. And Granny…’ Eloise stood, rubbing her back, but giggling slightly ‘…Granny used to say she was…’ she lowered her voice ‘…common. That Daddy, who’d gone after her because she looked like some Hollywood actress called Lana Turner, had had to reap what he sowed.’
‘So, you actually lived here at Hudson House?’ Lisa did now turn to stare.
‘I still do.’ Eloise seemed confused. ‘Well, I think I do. I’m Eloise Hudson, you know.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Lisa knew enough about people presenting with dementia not to argue with them. Certainly not to be confrontational. ‘And were you happy here…?’ She broke off as Jess appeared at their side with an old Barbour jacket over one arm and a mug in each hand.
‘Eloise’s just telling me she used to live here, Jess.’
‘I think you’ll find I still do.’ Eloise’s tone was imperious once more. ‘Ah, coffee. Lovely.’
‘You’re Eloise Hudson.’ Jess smiled. ‘Of course you lived here at Hudson House. I think your great-grandfather built the house?’
Eloise nodded.
‘So, who built the white house, Eloise?’ Lisa indicated with a movement of her head to where the top of the summer house could just be seen poking through the bare branches of a row of oak and beech trees.
‘The white house?’ Eloise frowned. ‘What white house?’
‘The summer house? Where I was talking to you earlier.’
‘When? I’ve never spoken to you before!’
‘But…’
‘Don’t confuse her, Mum,’ Jess interrupted. ‘Have you had enough out here now, Eloise?’
‘Hand me that coat and I’ll be fine.’ Eloise took the coffee but sniffed at the mug with some disdain before placing it, untouched, at her feet. ‘There’s always been a summer house up across from the top lawn, but Mummy insisted on making it so much bigger. That’s when Granny said she was common and that she must be trying to compete with someone… The prime minister, was it?’ Eloise frowned, obviously trying to remember.
‘The president of America?’ Lisa ventured.
‘That’s the one, yes.’ She looked surprised. ‘Oh, did you know Granny?’
Lisa smiled at that, but to change the subject said, ‘Eloise has four children, Jess.’ She glanced encouragingly towards the older woman.
‘Oh, I thought it was only three.’ Jess looked surprised.
‘I think I should know how many children I’ve given birth to,’ Eloise said irritably.
‘Of course.’ Jess nodded in agreement. ‘We women don’t go through all that and forget anyone, do we?’
‘So, you must have been part of the swinging sixties, then, Eloise?’ Lisa asked as she secured a trailing rose more securely to its trellis before standing back to see the effect.
Eloise stopped deadheading the floribunda and said, almost dreamily, ‘1968.’
Lisa and Jess leaned forward slightly to catch what the older woman was saying.
‘It was 1968, you know, girls.’
‘What was?’ Jess asked. ‘Was it a good year for you, Eloise?’
‘Oh, the best .’ She gave a little laugh. ‘The absolute best year of my life…’