26. Hot air and bravado
HOT AIR AND brAVADO
Before she left, Andi had given her the key to the sewing room so that she could go in there if she felt like it.
Ursula didn’t feel like it. Too many ghosts of a different kind.
It was bearable while Andi was with her.
It had even been fun to dress up and act like they were girls again.
But those girls who wore outrageous outfits to go out dancing were long gone.
That was the saddest thing of all. Sadder even than her mum’s unfinished dress.
Ursula was in her room trying to make up her mind what to do today.
It was easier back in Birmingham because every day was the same.
Get up, get ready, go to the allotment and stay there until dark.
Nice and simple. Organised. Structured. Contained.
No room for random memories. No empty spaces for the regrets to inch in.
But the only structure here was mealtimes and if she missed them, so what?
There was nothing to hang on to. Even before her self-imposed daily regime, her life had been subjected to one kind of structure or another.
She was so used to it that she hardly noticed it was there and it was only now, in this big, brooding house, that she felt lost without it.
That could be why her mind was taking her down the dark alleys of time and playing tricks on her.
Anton was on the hill again. Ursula had never believed in ghosts, but that didn’t stop Anton.
When had anything ever stopped Anton? Especially when he was trying to teach her a lesson.
It was too far away to see his face but she knew it would be full of cold but righteous indignation.
Well she was sick of it. Six years was long enough to atone for her sins.
She was going to go up that bloody hill, to that very spot, and tell him so.
The air was full of a fine mist that drenched her face but she was warm.
Too warm in fact. It was the new coat and the pace she was going at.
If she’d been in a different frame of mind, she’d have stopped at the bothy for a look at Brett’s finishing touches, but she needed to stay focussed if she wanted to keep her courage and do what she hadn’t been able to do at home.
On and up she went, along the same path she’d taken before, until she came to a right fork that led to the other side of the hill, the one that faced the house.
It wasn’t long before the path became no more than a straggly line in the bracken.
Ursula trudged on through rain sodden ferns that refused to part, her jeans made heavy by their watery offload.
She stumbled on stones and splashed through tiny streams of water spilling downwards.
And then there it was, the place Anton had chosen for his haunting.
He wasn’t there. Gone back to some white-walled minimalist Hades that was his resting place, no doubt.
‘I know you’re here, I can feel you. You have to stop this, Anton.
’ She’d shouted it out at the top of her voice, but the speed of her ascent and the worthlessness of it had caught up with her and the effort it required was the undoing of her.
She sank to her knees and all the hot air and bravado began to slide away.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please, just let me go. ’
Up ahead, a figure appeared from behind some trees. Was it him, was it Anton? Or was it the one person who might be able to save her again? ‘Samuel?’
‘Ursula. Ursula, it’s me, Howard. Are you okay?’
Howard. It was Howard all along. How stupid of her. ‘Yes. I thought you were someone else. Sorry.’
‘Let me help you. It gets a little boggy around there.’ He held out his hand for her and led her up to firmer ground where Esteban was waiting for them. ‘I was just on my way down. I only stopped because Esteban refused to go. You must have taken a wrong turn and come up the harder way.’
‘No wrong turn, it was deliberate.’
He frowned. He was trying to work out what she was about, but she’d pre-empted his possible question and the veil was already in place while she composed herself. ‘I’m ready to go back down now though. Perhaps we can go together.’
‘Sure. What do you say, Esteban, can we go now?’ The dog ran ahead of them. Howard looked down at his hand and seemed surprised that it was still holding hers. He let go of it and his mouth skewed into a half-smile. ‘I guess that means Esteban’s ready too.’
‘I expect you know I’m leaving tomorrow,’ he said, as they picked up the track that took them past the bothy.
‘Andi told me. You’ll be glad to get back to Dilys.’
‘Yes. Although it’s not really Dilys anymore. Not my Dilys anyway.’
‘Tell me about your Dilys.’
He puffed out his cheeks, as if there was so much to tell it would take a whole lifetime, and a short walk wouldn’t even cover the colour of her eyes.
‘She is the most remarkable woman I have ever known. She’s beautiful and hilarious.
Such a wicked sense of humour. Even now she still comes out with the funniest things.
When I first met her I couldn’t understand a word she said, but the way she said it just melted my heart.
There’s something quite captivating about the Welsh accent, don’t you think?
It got me, anyway. She was in Philly on a year’s visa. We fell in love.’
‘You didn’t stay over there?’
‘For a while after we got married. But when we had kids, she wanted to come home, and I would have followed her anywhere. We ended up in London. Not quite home, but we spend a lot of time here.’ He sighed. ‘Spent a lot of time here, I should say. We lived in London, but this was her real home.’
‘And where’s home for you?’
‘Wherever Dilys is.’ He looked like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Or perhaps he was just wondering if anywhere would feel like home after Dilys was gone.
Ursula wanted to tell him how lucky he was to love and have been loved so deeply.
A love like that touched so few people. But he probably knew that already.
Just as he knew Dilys would never spend time here again.
‘She still thinks she lives here, you know.’
Ursula touched his arm. It felt like the right thing to do this time, now that he’d shared more of himself.
‘That’s a beautiful thought to hold onto, isn’t it?
There must be some comfort in knowing that in her head she’s walking by that wonderful lake or climbing these hills.
She might not seem it on the outside but somewhere inside, she’s as free and happy as the girl she once was. ’
Howard stopped. His eyes met hers and she was momentarily unsettled by it. But then he looked towards the house and the lake beyond it. ‘Hmm. I hadn’t thought of it like that, but I guess there are worse places for your head to be at.’
They carried on until they reached the bothy. ‘Have you seen inside?’ he asked.
‘Not yet.’ She went in for a look. It was quite welcoming now the furniture was in there and a basket of logs and kindling had been left next to the fire.
She noticed a small wooden cupboard, very similar to the one she had in her allotment shed.
Inside it was a large bottle of water, tea, coffee and powdered milk.
On top of it was a camping stove. All it needed was a tin of biscuits to make her feel at home.
‘Cosy, huh?’ said Howard. ‘Almost one. Are you coming in for lunch?’
As they reached the door that took them into the boot room, Ursula glanced back at the hill.
Anton had taken up his usual station there.
Her attempt at confronting him had been a waste of time because she was never going to be rid of him.
She suddenly saw her future laid out before her and she only just managed to stifle a scream.
As it was Howard’s last night, Megan and Gareth came for dinner.
But even the extra guests couldn’t make up for the lack of Andi.
And it wasn’t just Ursula who felt it. At different points during the meal, Andi’s name was on everyone’s lips.
Especially Megan’s: ‘Does anyone know why she went off at such short notice?’
‘Zak said he needed to talk to her,’ said Don.
‘There you go then. It’s all a bit fishy, isn’t it? He’s been refusing to have anything to do with her for the last year, and all of a sudden he wants to talk.’ Megan addressed them all, but she was looking at Ursula when she said it.
Andi hadn’t painted it quite so badly when they spoke about it on the way to Barmouth, but Ursula recalled how she’d sensed Andi wasn’t telling the whole story. All the same, she felt the need to defend her old friend from this gossip. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Well you’d know, Ursula, wouldn’t you?’ There was something in the way Megan said it.
She was either fishing or being sarcastic.
Ursula couldn’t work out which but Megan was right, she should know.
In fact, there was a lot about Andi she should know.
Why she and Zak had fallen out for one thing.
What had actually happened with Pablo was another.
But she’d have to wait until Andi was ready to tell her, because one thing she did know was that she didn’t want to hear it from anyone but her.
‘I meant to say, you and Don were a riot yesterday, Uncle Howard.’ In one sentence, Gareth had closed his mother down and sent them off on a completely different tangent.
Ursula wasn’t sure what he did for a living but whatever it was, it was the Foreign Office’s loss, because that young man would have made a very credible diplomat.
‘I’m not with you,’ said Howard.
‘Didn’t Brett show you? Oh my God, Brett, what were you thinking, man? I tell you what, you two could be Tik Tok sensations.’ He handed his phone to Howard. ‘Press play. Here, let me do it.’
‘Is that what I think it is?’ said Don, over the sound of the phone’s tinny laughter. ‘Brett, you little bugger. I had no idea you were filming us.’
Brett’s face turned pink. ‘I only sent it to Gareth. Not because I was laughing at you or anything.’
‘And I only showed Mam,’ added Gareth. ‘It won’t go no further, I promise.’
‘Well, not quite,’ said Megan, setting her mouth on a downward curve. ‘I did send it to your kids, Howard. I thought it would be nice for them to see you more like your old self. They loved it. So don’t expect an apology because you won’t get one.’
It was getting late. Megan and Gareth had left a while ago.
As far as she knew, the others had gone to bed, but Ursula was too keyed up to sleep.
Thoughts of Anton and her future life were battling with worries about Andi and Zak.
She went into the kitchen to make a milky drink that might trick her mind into readying itself for sleep.
The light was off but the kitchen wasn’t completely dark.
The day’s rain had emptied the clouds out and the starlit clear-as-glass sky bathed the room in a dim half-light.
Through the window, she noticed Howard further out into the garden.
She threw on her coat and boots and went out to him.
As she got closer, she saw that his head was turned up to the sky. He tilted it slightly towards her. ‘Will you look at the size of that moon.’
She looked up and saw it, full and fat, surrounded by stars glistening like diamonds on black velvet.
‘There’s the plough, and see that bright one over there? That’s Mars And that one’s Jupiter.’
‘You know a lot about astronomy.’
‘Not really. I have an app. I like to pick out the planets from the stars but you don’t get skies like this in the city.’
‘No, you don’t. It’s quite special. I’ve seen the Northern Lights. In Norway. Tromso.’
‘Now that must have been special. Were you there for a holiday?’
‘No, work. My husband’s work. We spent a month there. Fortunately it was late autumn, so I saw them several times.’
She saw him blink. He was thinking about what she’d just said, turning it over in his head.
He’d probably worked out what hadn’t felt quite right about her words and, at this moment, he was probably wondering whether she’d meant to say she and Anton had seen them several times.
Now he was probably wondering if it would be rude to ask.
She saved him the turmoil: ‘His work was his life. Most nights, I was left to my own devices. But actually, seeing them on your own is quite a spiritual and uplifting experience. I can recommend it.’
They turned back to the sky and then, out of the blue, he said: ‘Thank you, Ursula.’
‘For what?’
‘For talking to me. For making me dance. For making me laugh again.’
She thought about putting her hand on his arm again but she stopped herself. Because she wanted it far too much. And because she couldn’t be sure what might happen next. So she kept her hands in her pockets. ‘It was nothing.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘No, it wasn’t.’