33. Sometimes you need a reminder
SOMETIMES YOU NEED A REMINDER
Andi was back, bringing with her more bags than she’d taken.
Zak lived in Hebden Bridge now which was close enough to Manchester to warrant a day’s shopping, and she seemed to have made the most of it.
But she’d brought more than that. There was a visible difference in her.
She seemed just that little bit more alive, just that little bit more like the Andi of old.
Ursula had decided against calling her in the end. Better not to pull her away from precious moments with Zak. But she’d sent her a message with a photo of the tablecloth and napkins: ‘Job done.’
A reply had come back: ‘Proud of you, mate. Tell me more tomorrow. I’ll be home by lunchtime.’
So now they were sitting in the kitchen, Andi, Don, and Ursula, having lunch. Brett was working and they weren’t sure where Esme was. They hadn’t seen her since the other night when she’d gone off to the bothy.
‘Have you looked in on her?’ said Andi.
‘I’ve tried,’ said Don. ‘I’ve been up there four or five times but she hasn’t been around.
I know she’s sleeping there though. There’s empty pop bottles, crisp packets, that kind of thing.
And a sleeping bag. Every time I go up there, I leave proper food and it’s been eaten when I go back.
I’ve seen her from a distance but I reckon she’s deliberately avoiding me. ’
Andi didn’t say anything but it was obvious she was mulling it all over.
‘If you ask me, she’s going out of her way to pick fights over nothing.
She really kicked off over me buying a bit of salad.
’ Don turned to Ursula as if looking for back up.
‘Ursula managed to calm her down, but then she took herself off up the hill and hasn’t been back since. She’s getting worse, Andi.’
‘Noted.’ Andi picked at the sleeve of her cardigan, her sparkle already beginning to dim.
‘How’s Zak? I was thinking about the last time I last saw him. Must have been Anton’s funeral.’ Ursula was trying to steer them towards what she was hoping would be a more agreeable topic.
‘I suppose it was. He’s absolutely fine. More than fine, actually. His girlfriend’s pregnant. He’s about to become a dad. And I’m going to be a grandmother.’ She looked at Ursula with an expression that was much too serious for such good news.
‘Oh that’s wonderful. It is wonderful, isn’t it? You are happy about it, aren’t you?’ said Ursula.
‘Yeah, I’m over the moon.’
Ursula threw her arms around her. ‘I’m really happy for you, mate. Really happy.’
‘Thanks, Urs. Let’s go up to the sewing room. I’m dying to see the tablecloth.’
Ursula stood over Andi. She couldn’t keep her hands still, she was so fidgety and jittery. How mad was that? All she was doing was showing her a tablecloth that had taken more out of her than it bloody well should have done.
‘It’s gorgeous. I love the ribbon border. It must have been hard,’ said Andi.
‘It’s just a tablecloth.’
‘Yes it is, but that’s not what I meant, Urs.’
‘I know. Yes, it was hard. I’m glad you asked me to do it though. Did I ever tell you Anton used to leave me lists of jobs to do?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘They started after I lost the baby. I used to think they were to help me get through the day. Something to distract me from the misery. They probably were, in the first place.’
‘That isn’t why I asked you to make the tablecloth.’
‘I didn’t think that for one minute. You were giving me something to overcome. Helping me build strength.’
‘And Anton wasn’t?’
‘No. Andi, I don’t want you to think you can’t talk about Zak’s baby to me. When I said I was really happy for you, I meant it. It’s not your fault I didn’t have children.’
Andi took her hand. ‘I thought that was how you’d feel but I needed to hear it. Do you think you’ve overcome your sewing phobia now?’
‘Not completely, but I’m getting there.’
‘’Good, because I’ve got something for you. I picked up some material in Manchester. I thought we could help each other get our sewing mojos back. This one’s for me. And this one’s for you.’ She gave Ursula a parcel wrapped in brown paper.
Hidden inside the paper was a beautiful lightweight silk, with abstract off-kilter squares within squares in purples, blues, lavenders, oranges, yellows and whites.
They reminded Ursula of a scarf that had belonged to her mum.
An Italian designer, Schiaparelli. Solly had bought it for her on their honeymoon.
It suited her colouring perfectly. And the one physical attribute Ursula had inherited from her mum was her colouring. ‘It’s fabulous.’
‘That’s what I thought when I saw it. So you.’
‘It’s been a long time since anything like this has been ‘so me’, but it’s good timing. I’m trying to break a few bad habits.’
‘Good. Ditching the grey is well overdue.’ Andi spread a deep teal-green smooth satin crepe across the table. ‘What do you think of mine?’
‘Oh it’s so you, darling.’ She laughed but she could already feel the pressure building up inside her. ‘This is a bit different to running up a tablecloth.’
Andi put her arm around her. ‘I’ll be here with you this time.
What do you say? We could make them for Christmas.
It’s ages away and you’ll probably have gone home by then but you can come back.
We do great Christmases here. Well, we used to.
No idea what this one’s going to be like. You’ll come though, won’t you?’
‘I suppose so, yes.’ How could she say no when Andi was practically begging her?
‘Marvellous.’ The twinkle had returned to Andi’s eyes. ‘To the pattern library, before you change your mind.’
They’d been searching through the collection of patterns for over an hour.
It was taking so long because the discovery of each one was accompanied by a reminiscence or two, and they were in no rush to return to the present.
But eventually the present came knocking at the door. ‘Go away, we’re busy,’ said Andi.
‘It’s Don. Mind if I step in for a minute?’
‘God bless him,’ whispered Andi. ‘All right, but only for a minute.’
He came in and closed the door behind him ‘It’s Esme. She must have seen that you’re back. She’s outside, wanting to talk to you. Well, demanding really.’
‘Is she now? Well you can tell her I will talk to her when I’m good and ready. And I am certainly not in the mood to talk to her now. Can you do that for me, Don?’
‘Er yes, I think so.’
‘Good man. And if you fancy making a cuppa for me and Urs, I’d be ever so grateful.’
‘Leave it with me. Assuming I survive the backlash, your tea will arrive in due course.’
Ursula waited for him to go. If there was ever a time to ask about Esme, it was now. ‘Andi, just say if I’m prying, but is there a connection between you and Esme?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘Then I don’t understand why you put up with her. Sorry, I know I’m not being very tolerant, especially when she’s obviously got problems. It’s just that I’ve tried to find one redeeming feature in her and I can’t.’
‘She’s Pab’s daughter. Hardly a redeeming feature, I know, but that’s why I put up with her.’
Of course she was. How had she not realised that before? Esme even looked like him. That time she’d smiled at Gareth, when Ursula had been racking her brains trying to think who she reminded her of. It was Pablo. The blindingly obvious had been staring her in the face all the time. ‘But how?’
‘How do you think? Sorry, Urs, I didn’t mean to snap. All I can tell you is I knew nothing about her until she turned up on the doorstep twenty months ago claiming to be his. He could have denied it but instead he invited her to stay. And then all hell broke loose.’
A lightbulb switched on in Ursula’s head. The rift with Zak. It was all beginning to make sense now. ‘Is that why Zak stopped talking to you?’
She nodded. ‘He was angry with Pablo and just as angry with me for not throwing the pair of them out. I was being a doormat apparently. But Pab said it had been a one-night stand, a stupid mistake. He laid it on thick about how the poor girl had had a tough life. He reckoned she’d been in and out of care and he owed it to her to give her a home.
I felt sorry for her, so I said she could stay.
Zak had a big fight with us over it and then he walked out and moved in with his girlfriend.
They left Bala not long after. Wouldn’t even tell us where he’d gone. ’
‘But he’s okay with you now?’
‘Sort of. He won’t come here while Esme’s here though.
She was vile to him. I think she’s jealous of him, because he had Pablo growing up.
She’s obsessed with Pab. Followed him around like a lost puppy.
Pab thought it was funny. I told him he needed to do something about her, so what does he do?
He fucks off, and now I’m stuck with her.
I made the wrong choices, Urs, and it cost me my son.
We were so close, me and Zak, but there’s a distance there that’s like a huge chasm and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to close it. ’
‘And Jet? What about her?’
‘Oh she hasn’t bothered to come here in years. Keeps well out of it. She’s fine with me. She hasn’t got a lot of time for Pab though. Not that he noticed. He was too busy trying to screw a woman who’s practically a child.’
‘Was it Claudette? The woman.’
‘Who told you, Don?’
Ursula shook her head. ‘I only asked him her name after I saw the photo in the library. I took an educated guess on the rest.’
‘Madam Ursula strikes again. She’s young enough to be Zak’s girlfriend, you know.
I thought he was just being nice to her because he was missing the kids and because he felt sorry for her with her so-called mental health problems. But they were carrying on right under my nose.
Probably longer than that. He brought her here just like he brought the others so, for all I know, they could have been at it for ages.
And the only mental health issue I witnessed while she was here was an inability to keep her fucking clothes on.
She was always parading around half-naked, even in the middle of winter.
And believe me, it’s really fucking cold here in winter. ’
Ursula turned away from the patterns. She couldn’t face them anymore.
That nostalgic bubble they’d been lost in had burst. This was all such a mess.
So much chaos and disruption, and it was all down to one man.
‘Something else I don’t understand. Why do you keep her photo on the wall downstairs and why leave the bedroom as it is? Isn’t that just a constant reminder?’
‘Yes, it is. And that’s why they’re still there.’
Ursula lay in bed, too restless to sleep.
This room had lost its appeal recently. In fact, there was a definite menace to the summery meadow now.
A reminder from Claudette that she’d ripped the heart out of this house.
But Claudette had only painted it. It was Andi who’d decided to keep the room as it was.
That should have surprised Ursula, but it didn’t.
She wasn’t so very different. She’d hadn’t changed a thing in her house since Anton died.
Sometimes, you want a reminder. More than that. Sometimes, you need one.
Sick of tossing and turning, she got up and looked out the window.
It was too dark to see anything, but she felt him out there, watching her every move.
Just as he’d always done. She turned away.
She wasn’t giving Anton the space in her head tonight.
It had already been reserved by a very different kind of man.