17. The tip of the iceberg
THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG
Mr Big Potatoes had been back at the windowsill with his early alarm call this morning, meaning Ursula was down in the kitchen by seven.
Even so, she was still the last one up. She greeted everyone and got a couple of acknowledgements in return.
But most were more interested in the good-looking young man who’d just come in from the boot room with the egg basket.
‘That’s eighteen in the car and five left in here for you, Don. ’
Esme jumped up from the table. ‘I’ll take them.’
The young man’s face creased into the kind of smile that made the world a brighter place to be in. ‘Thanks, Esme.’
Every visible part of Esme body was glowing. It was a complete transformation. ‘Do you want a drink?’
‘Not today thanks. Mam’s waiting for me. The hob’s on the blink again.’ He treated Ursula to one of those smiles. She noted the disappointment on Esme’s face. ‘Hi, Ursula. I’m Gareth, Megan’s son and chief skivvy. Anyone need a lift into town?’
‘Me! I would.’ Esme’s arm shot up in the air. Seconds later she was at Gareth’s side, looking like an anxious little bird.
‘Okay. I’ll wait while you get your coat then, shall I? Anyone else?’ said Gareth.
‘You’re about two hours too early for me, mate, but thanks for asking,’ said Don.
Esme was back, wearing a jacket and a smile that made her look quite stunning.
Ursula hadn’t noticed until now how pretty she was.
She reminded her of someone but she couldn’t think who it was.
She rarely watched TV or read the papers these days so it must be someone from the past. An old film star perhaps.
Gareth opened the boot room door for Esme. ‘Just you and me then, Es. Mam said she’ll message you with her shopping list, Andi.’
‘Okay, I’ll look out for it. I’m going to Barmouth today if you fancy keeping me company, Urs,’ said Andi.
‘I’d love to.’ So this was why they’d hardly talked properly. Andi was saving it until they couldn’t be interrupted by the others.
Andi drove a small Japanese car, not unlike Ursula’s. She wasn’t, as Ursula had assumed, the owner of the tatty old van she’d parked next to on the first day. ‘I’ll have to leave you to your own devices for an hour or so. I’m seeing a solicitor,’ she said.
‘To do with Pablo leaving?’
‘Uh huh. There’s a nice beach at Barmouth for a walk if you need something to pass the time. More shops, which is why I have a long shopping list. It’s only about an hour’s drive but we don’t go there very often, so everybody wants me to bring something back that they can’t get in Bala.’
‘Is there an outdoor shop? I think I need a warmer coat.’
‘Yes, there is. It will warm up eventually if you’re staying until the summer kicks in properly.’
‘I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying yet. Does that matter?’ The truth was, she was already longing to get back home. Not to the house. She’d be quite happy never to see that place again. But she was missing the allotments and her routine.
‘No. The room’s yours for as long as you want it, and if you go, you can come back and see me anytime.
Wherever I might be.’ Andi’s face was rigid.
She was trying to keep it together. She always came across as strong and defiant, but Ursula had been friends with her long enough to know there were times when even she was lost and frightened.
She cursed herself then for forgetting the reason she’d come to Am-nawr.
She was supposed to be saving her oldest friend and allotments and routines would just have to wait.
It took her a few minutes to grasp what Andi had meant by that last sentence and then she realised that it wasn’t just Pab that was breaking Andi’s heart, it was also the possibility that she might lose the house. ‘Will you have to sell Am-nawr?’
‘Not sure. I’m hoping the solicitor will tell me that. I haven’t said anything to the others, by the way. I expect they’re already asking themselves the same question but none of them has asked me.’
‘They’re afraid of the answer.’
Andi let out a muffled laugh. ‘And so says Madam Ursula. Ever thought of doing palm readings on the side?’
‘Hmm. That’s not a bad idea. Would you like to have your palm read by Madam Ursula, my dear? Tell you your future?’ she said in a very bad continental accent.
Andi’s mouth set itself in a straight line. ‘The only future I’m interested in right now is whether that bastard is going to make my life even harder.’
Ursula was suddenly hit by an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and she had to look at the unfolding scenery in case it showed on her face.
This was embarrassing. She should be the strong one.
But the only strength in evidence right now was coming from Andi, as was ever the case.
She’d always been the weak one. ‘I wish I could make things better for you,’ she said when she’d finally pushed that pathetic feeling back in its box.
‘You are. Just having you here is helping. The others don’t really know me like you.
And anyway, they feel as betrayed by Pab as I do.
He brought them all here you see. They came because of him.
And now he’s dumped them.’ Andi was doing what she always did, putting other people before herself.
That was the trouble with being the strong one, you were always looking out for someone else.
Up until he left her, Pablo had always come first but as he wasn’t here, perhaps the residents were the next best thing.
‘Andi, you’ve been with Pablo for over thirty years. Those people have known him for a few at the most. So no, they don’t feel as betrayed as you do. They don’t have the right to. You need to be thinking of your own survival, not theirs.’
Andi shook her head. ‘Who is that I spy poking out from underneath all that sweet natured wholesomeness? Is that my old friend Ursula Fry? Are you still in there, Urs?’
‘Just about. I meant to ask how the kids have taken it.’
‘They’re angry but not surprised. Not sure what that says about their parents’ relationship. Don’t want to think about it either. I’ve got enough emotional baggage as it is. On the plus side, Zak’s talking to me now.’
‘I didn’t realise he wasn’t. Did you fall out?’
‘Not exactly but he’s been distant for a year now.’
‘Why?’
‘Oh you know. Shit happens.’
Ursula looked out of the window. In the distance, the sea was coming into view. ‘What kind of shit?’
‘The kind I don’t want to talk about right now.’
So that was it then. Conversation over. There were a few things that Andi didn’t seem want to talk about right now. She told herself to be patient but, as Anton had once jokingly pointed out, patience was never her strong suit.
While Andi was with the solicitor, Ursula shopped for a warm waterproof coat and jumpers because she was already feeling the chill in draughty old Am-nawr. Anton’s house might not have much going for it but at least it was always warm enough.
She was putting her shopping in the car when she got a message from Andi to say she was finished.
They met in the harbour and went for a beach walk.
It was long, flat and quiet. The ideal place for Andi to relay the solicitor’s advice.
‘The house is actually in my name. I bought it with my money. Pab used some of his for the repairs but he didn’t have a lot.
You know his views on money. It was only good for one thing. ’
Ursula nodded but actually she hadn’t really known because this was the first time Andi had mentioned it.
She’d guessed though. Right from the start, Pab always seemed to be living beyond his means.
Andi hadn’t mentioned this rift with Zak before either.
A year, she’d said. There was more to this, Ursula was sure of it.
She had a strong feeling she’d only been shown the tip of the iceberg and there was plenty more emotional baggage to come.
‘Anyway, the solicitor suggests waiting a few weeks, to see if he makes any demands. In the meantime she’s going to put together a plan of action.
’ Andi stopped and looked out to the sea.
‘I used to come here when I was a kid. It hasn’t changed too much.
You can still get donkey rides in the summer. ’
‘I bet it was wonderful. We hardly ever came to places like this. Only once to Cornwall with my nan, after we moved in with her. When my father lived with us, we went abroad. After he left, Mum couldn’t even afford a week in Weston-Super-Mare.’
‘Didn’t you ever go with Anton?’
‘You’ve got to be kidding. Anton didn’t see the point in holidays. You know how often we travelled, but it was always for work purposes. No time for long beach walks.’
‘I told you he was boring. I distinctly remember telling you that at least once a day before you married him.’
Ursula remembered that too. She also remembered Andi telling her not to marry him.
In fact the only three women who’d ever had any influence on her had all said it.
But she’d ignored them all. Then she recalled the other thing Anton had said about her when he’d told her she had no patience, ‘Ursula must have what Ursula wants,’ and she reminded herself again that wanting someone was not the same as loving them.