Chapter 25
‘So, where’s that husband of yours?’ Gayle said, diverting Rose’s attention – much to Robyn’s relief.
‘I’m coming!’ A man’s voice rang out from somewhere in the house.
‘I must say, you and your husband have the most amazing hearing,’ Robyn blurted.
‘Not at all – it’s the walls.’ Rose set her teacup down, and with her knuckle tapped the wall beside her chair. ‘There, you see? Paper-thin. Not solid, like my old house. They just use plaster board, you know. I pity anyone who buys one of the apartments on the estate. Still, it’s good for me and George; we can speak to each other no matter where we are in the house. No more hollering when dinner is ready. Isn’t that right, George?’
‘Why, yes dear.’ George walked into the lounge. He appeared older than Rose, and a bit doddery. ‘The only place it doesn’t work is in the garden.’
Gayle nodded. ‘And we know how much you love your gardening, Mr Gordon.’
Rose said, ‘He never used to. Strangely, his interest in the garden only started when we moved here, which is rather odd, especially as there’s nothing that needs doing out there. It’s been laid to lawn, and landscaped, which I’m at pains to remind him.’ Rose rolled her eyes at her husband.
‘But dearest, we want to keep that way – don’t we?’
‘Yes, but I didn’t think you’d be out there with a litter-picker the moment a leaf dropped on the lawn!’
Robyn gave Rose a sideways glance when she remembered what she’d just said about the paper-thin walls. Wherever her husband was in the house, he was in hearing distance of his dear wife. But he wasn’t when he was in the garden. Robyn cheekily asked, ‘I bet it’s peaceful in your garden.’ Of course, she wasn’t referring to the diggers and the workmen.
‘Oh, by heck – isn’t it just!’ And clearly neither was George.
Rose shot him a look.
Gayle got up, walked over to George, and linked her arm in his. ‘Right, are you ready for that haircut, Mr Gordon?’
‘Oh yes. But on one condition.’
‘Okay,’ Gayle said slowly. ‘There have never been any conditions before.’
‘Well, there’s one now.’
Robyn stole a glance at Rose, who was looking at her husband quizzically, her eyebrows raised. This was obviously news to her too.
‘My condition is this, Gayle. You must call me George.’
Gayle said, ‘Oh, um … okay. George.’
Robyn caught the relief in her voice. She understood. Gayle had a round of clients on her books, and this wasn’t a social visit. She needed the money. Robyn resolved to pay Gayle for cutting and colouring her hair.
Robyn took another sip of her tea and looked around the room, taking in the new modern sofa suite and coffee table, and the old ornaments and collectibles that the couple must have brought with them when they had moved house. Her eyes eventually settled on Rose, who was sitting across from her, staring at her intently.
‘So, Robyn. Tell me about yourself.’
Robyn sighed. She got the feeling that this was going to be a long appointment. She couldn’t wait for Gayle to cut George’s hair so that it would be Rose’s turn.
‘Can I have another cup of tea, do you think?’ She was stalling. Perhaps by the time Rose had made the tea, she would have forgotten her question.
‘A top-up?’ Rose pulled the cosy off the teapot, holding it in mid-air. ‘Of course.’
Robyn frowned at the teapot. She’d forgotten about that. She watched Rose pour the tea.
‘Milk and sugar?’
‘Yes please. I don’t think I’ve had my share of calcium for today.’ Robyn winced. Now she was being sarcastic. That’s not like me , she thought . She raised her eyebrows, realising she’d remembered something about herself. Surely, that was a sign her memory was slowly resurfacing.
‘Milk and sugar.’ Rose spooned some sugar into Robyn’s tea and added a splash of milk from the jug.
Robyn realised that her sarcasm had fortunately been lost on Rose, who busied herself with the teapot and its cosy while Robyn searched for something to say. ‘I’m at university.’
‘That’s nice. What are you studying?’
Robyn had no idea, but she said, ‘Art.’ That was what she was assuming, going by the rather good sketches in her so-called diary. She could phone the university and explain the situation. But she couldn’t imagine they’d give out any information over the phone, especially considering what she’d have to say: I’ve lost my memory – can you tell me everything you know about me, along with my home address, and my parents’ or relations’ contact phone number?
Robyn winced at the thought of that embarrassing phone call. She knew she would be told it was not university policy to give out students’ personal details, even if she claimed to be one of them.
She looked at Rose.
‘So, you’re here on holiday?’
Robyn stared at Rose, thinking, Hurry up, Gayle!
Rose asked, ‘How did you meet Gayle?’
Finally, a question she could answer – except she didn’t want to. Robyn sighed. ‘I had a car accident on Christmas Eve.’
‘Oh, Robyn. I’m so sorry to hear that.’
‘That’s how I met Gayle.’
‘Oh, she didn’t say anything about being involved in an accident.’
‘No, she wasn’t in the accident too. I met her in hospital while I was a patient, and she was next door visiting her dad.’
‘I see. That explains it.’
‘Explains what?’
Rose pointed at her own forehead. ‘I didn’t like to ask what had happened.’
Why not? You asked me everything else , said a voice in Robyn’s head. She touched her bandage and thought, Now I’m just being mean . Rose wasn’t to know she’d lost her memory. ‘Gayle is going to look at it when we get back.’
‘Is she good at first aid?’
‘First aid? I should think so. She was a—’ Robyn was interrupted by the sound of laughter. It sounded as though Gayle and George were sharing a joke while she was trimming his hair. She turned in her seat. Rose was right: the walls were paper-thin.
‘She was a …?’ prompted Rose.
Robyn raised her voice. ‘She was a nurse for years, before she returned to hairdressing.’
‘Really? I had no idea.’
‘Oh.’ Robyn bit her lip, wondering if there was a reason Gayle hadn’t told them. She had thought that hairdressers chatted to their clients.
‘Was that back in London?’
Robyn nodded. So Gayle had told them she lived in London.
Rose said, ‘I got the feeling she doesn’t like talking about her life. I guess that’s what you’ve both got in common.’
Robyn pursed her lips.
‘I suppose you’ve got your reasons.’
Robyn knew what her reasons were. Gayle hadn’t talked too much about her past in London, and she had a feeling it had to do with the breakup of her relationship.
They both finished their tea in silence. Then Rose busied herself with putting the used cups and saucers back on the tea tray, while Robyn searched again for something to say.
She looked out of the front window. ‘So, when did you move in?’ Robyn raised her voice above the sound of a digger rolling past the bay window. A saucer rattled suddenly, and Robyn turned back to Rose. A cup was on its side and cold tea was running over the coffee table and down the table leg.
Robyn jumped up. ‘Oh, let me get a cloth – your tea is going to soil your carpet.’ Then she noticed Rose. Her head was buried in her hands, and her head was shaking from side to side. ‘Never mind the stupid carpet,’ she mumbled into her hands. ‘I never did like the colour anyway.’
Robyn looked from the dripping table leg to Rose and back again. A sob escaped from Rose as she slumped back down on the sofa. Robyn forgot the cloth and sat down next to Rose. Desperately, she searched her pockets for a tissue. She looked around and there on the mantel shelf was an open box, with a clean tissue waiting to be plucked. She bounced up and took out a tissue. After a glance at Rose, she grabbed the box instead.
‘Here.’
Rose looked sideways at Robyn, her nose running and her eyes streaming. She took the tissue and blew her nose, then reached for the box and placed it in her lap.
Robyn sat next to her, not quite sure what to do next.
Several tissues later, Rose’s tears had abated. She looked at Robyn and gave her a little smile. She patted Robyn’s hand. ‘I’m being such a silly old woman.’
‘What is it?’ Robyn asked softly.
‘This house,’ she said, blowing her nose again. ‘I mean it’s not as if anyone’s died or anything. I just don’t know what I’m making a big fuss about, do you?’ she sniffed. ‘Silly me, of course you wouldn’t.’ She suddenly got up from the sofa. Robyn watched her walk over to the bay window carrying her box of tissues. She pulled another one out when she arrived at the window, and Robyn was afraid she was going to burst into tears again. But she didn’t. She just had the tissue on standby.
This house. Robyn raised her eyebrows, her attention drawn to the window as another digger rolled by. Of course, Rose wasn’t unaware of what was going on outside.
‘I mean, it’s not as if I didn’t know it was going to be like this.’ Her back was to Robyn.
Robyn got up, walked over to the window and stood beside Rose. ‘It’s not always going to be like this.’
‘I know.’ Rose snuffled. ‘We got such a good deal, selling our old house to the developer in exchange for this one. It was practically falling down; it needed so much work to put things right, and that would have cost us so much money. The estate agent next door said we got such a good deal because we were the first ones to buy, and as the development went on the houses would just come up for sale for more money.’ Rose turned from the window to look at Robyn. ‘Do you think that’s true?’
Robyn didn’t know what to think, although she did nod in agreement, for Rose’s sake. She stared out of the window and thought of Gayle’s parents’ house, in its quiet, tree-lined cul de sac surrounded by gardens, with privacy from next-door neighbours. She thought how awful it must be to wake up to this wasteland every day. But she could imagine something worse – waking up to tightly packed-in, carbon copies of houses just like your own as far as the eye could see.
‘Close your eyes.’ Robyn said.
‘Pardon?’ Rose snuffled.
Robyn turned to her. ‘Just close your eyes.’
She did.
‘Now you’re standing looking out of your window and there’s a beautiful house right opposite you, with a lovely green lawn and spring flowers.’ Robyn checked Rose still had her eyes shut. She was moving her head about as if she was looking at the image, so Robyn continued. ‘It’s very quiet, except you can hear the twittering of birds around a bird table, and the sound of children’s voices.’
‘The estate’s for over-fifties,’ Rose interrupted.
‘Oh, right.’ Robyn smiled. She hadn’t seen the plans for the new development, but perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as she imagined. There would be bungalows, and detached houses for the comfortably retired. There might be neighbours who were Rose’s age. ‘Are your eyes still shut?’
‘Yes, yes – go on.’
‘Well, you can hear voices. It’s your neighbours across the way, waving and saying good morning. They are watering their plants. And now you see yourself walking down your path and across to visit your new neighbours opposite. You’re carrying a pie.’
‘A pie?’
‘Yes, you’re welcoming and introducing yourself to your new neighbours. After all, they’re going to be your new friends.’
‘I’m not a very good cook.’
Robyn sighed. ‘It’s the thought that counts.’
She finished and stood watching Rose. After a minute, Rose opened her eyes. She turned to Robyn and took her hand. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me,’ Robyn said. ‘I only described to you the picture on the massive billboard as you turn into the estate.’
‘I know, but sometimes you need somebody to give you a boot up the backside to stop you feeling sorry for yourself. Goodness knows, I’ve been driving George mad these last few weeks, wondering whether we’d done the right thing moving from our old, draughty house. No wonder he’s been spending so much time in the garden. I know why – to get away from me!’
Robyn shook her head, trying to come up with some little white lie and pretend that was not what she believed.
‘Don’t shake your head. I know it’s true because he’ll find any excuse to be out there, even though there isn’t a single thing to be done in that garden.’ She laughed and wiped her tearful face; this time they were tears of laughter.
Then Robyn remembered. ‘Your carpet! Where’s your kitchen? We must get that stain out.’
‘What stain?’ asked Gayle, appearing at the doorway.
‘Silly me – I spilt some tea,’ said Rose.
‘Oh dear,’ said George, appearing behind Gayle, his grey hair neatly trimmed. He reappeared a moment later with a dishcloth.
‘Here, let me do that,’ offered Robyn.
‘No, no. You sit down. You’ve been such a help already,’ said Rose.
Robyn caught Gayle raising her eyebrows, obviously wondering what Rose meant.
You know, George. I think we’re going to love it here after all.’
‘Really?’
‘Oh, yes. I promise I won’t say another bad word against this house.’
Gayle sidled up to Robyn while Rose was busy mopping up the tea from the carpet. George was busy staring at his wife in surprise.
Gayle whispered, ‘I don’t know what you did, but I think it’s the first time I’ve seen Rose look truly happy since she moved to this house.’