Chapter Eight
The following morning, Hattie received a brisk phone call from Rachel Anstruther-Smith.
‘You’ve won a raffle prize. The week in Paris.
Congratulations! But your table did buy a lot of tickets.
’ She paused for breath. ‘Now I gather you’re a property hunter?
I wonder if I could just ask you a couple things – nothing official – just general advice… ’
Hattie made herself comfortable. In this instance, ‘general’ meant ‘free’.
No sooner than she had disconnected than there was a WhatsApp from Luke. Fancy lunch at mine today?
What’s the occasion? she typed back.
I have a new BBQ. Given to me by a client.
What time? Shall I bring salad?
Bring dressing. 12 pm.
Hattie found herself excited to be seeing Luke; she’d been missing him.
They usually had a barbecue nearly once a week, but with him being away so much, this summer she felt she’d missed out.
She went to Xander’s bedroom. She knocked on the door.
‘Are you up for a barbie at Luke’s today?
You don’t have to come, but we’d love it if you did,’ she added.
‘OK. What time?’ Xander was peering out at her from under the duvet.
‘In an hour?’
He nodded and turned over.
Hattie took a bit more time, applying subtle make-up.
If he’s going to trouble to cook for us, it’s only polite to dress up a bit, she told herself.
She pulled on a much loved dress that was easy to wear but always made her feel good.
Then she found herself adding some scent Luke had once said he liked.
She’d found a few books to take to her old friend Mary, who lived quite near Luke, and had picked a couple of quick posies – flowers for Mary, herbs for Luke – when Xander appeared in the kitchen.
There was an aura of dampness about him which implied he’d had a shower.
Hattie smiled her approval. ‘Do you want something to eat? Barbecues can take a while sometimes.’
Xander nodded. ‘Toast?’
Hattie knew she should have told Xander to make his own toast but she was in a good mood this morning.
‘So did you enjoy the quiz?’ she said as they drove along.
‘Yeah. It’s nice to win.’
‘Don’t you often win things, Xander? You seemed to know a lot.’
‘Yes, but not the things my mum thinks are important.’
‘You mean the computer games and things?’
He nodded. ‘And film. She thinks films are a waste of time.’
‘Film studies are perfectly respectable.’
‘I know. But I don’t want to do film studies.’
Hattie experienced a moment of sympathy for her sister.
‘So what do you want to do? Any ambitions or thoughts about how you’re going to earn your living?’
‘No,’ said Xander.
Hattie sighed. ‘Fair enough. I was thirty before I knew what I wanted to do when I grow up. And when I do, I may well change my mind.’ She glanced across at him, hoping for an acknowledgement of this admittedly feeble joke. Nothing.
But when Luke came out from behind his house to welcome them, preceded by Frank and Fearless, as enthusiastic as always, Xander brightened up. He exchanged manly nods with Luke and then Hattie went in for a hug, still holding the bunch of herbs she had brought for him.
Luke was good at hugging. It was firm, long enough and friendly. Hattie had a whiff of soap and shampoo and Luke before she was released. Just for a second they regarded each other and then he said, ‘I like that dress.’
‘I wear it a lot,’ she said. ‘You probably like what’s familiar.’ She looked away sharply, to cover the sudden flutter in her heart.
‘I’ve always liked it,’ he said. ‘Now, what are you going to have to drink?’
‘Actually, Luke, would you mind if I just popped across to see Mary first? I’ve got some books and flowers for her. Unless everything is sizzling hot and ready to serve.’ She smiled. She could see burgers and steaks in a cool box by the newly lit barbecue. ‘Xander? Will you be OK?’
Xander nodded. ‘Is that all right, Luke?’
He smiled.
As Hattie walked back to her car it was with the impression that Luke and Xander would be very happy in each other’s company. She smiled too.
Mary was pleased to see her. She accepted the flowers and held them while Hattie found a vase.
‘It’s so kind of you to bring me books,’ said Mary. ‘The mobile library used to come but I don’t think it does any more and when you haven’t got much else to do, you get through the reading material very quickly.’
They both sat and Hattie asked, ‘Maybe I could take you to the actual library? If we arranged it?’
‘That would be lovely, but I know how busy you are. I usually like the books you bring anyway.’
Hattie trawled charity shops when she had time, looking for suitable reading matter. She knew Mary enjoyed a good range of books, from romantic fiction to quite gritty crime and psychological thrillers, but she was sometimes annoyed she didn’t get a chance to choose what she read herself.
‘I could take you to the library, or a bookshop, anytime,’ she said.
‘To be honest, I don’t have much energy for visiting shops these days. I can manage with what you bring me.’
‘Maybe you should think more about moving into a home? A nice one would have a library, or bring you books.’
Mary nodded. ‘I know, but as we said before, sadly they are dreadfully expensive!’
Hattie paused, trying not to say what she felt. She failed. ‘If you sold this house – which would go in a flash even in the state it’s in – you could live for quite a long time in a very upmarket home.’
‘What do you mean “the state it’s in”?’ Mary was offended.
‘I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to be rude. I mean the fact that there are a few damp patches here and there, the kitchen needs rationalising – there’s that little larder in the kitchen which takes up space where the fridge should be.
I love larders, I really do, but you could put a bigger one at the end of the room.
It could be very stylish.’ She paused. ‘I probably shouldn’t read interior design magazines. ’
‘No, do go on. Tell me what you think needs fixing.’ Mary smiled, reassuring Hattie that she was no longer offended.
‘There are a few window panes with cracks in them which makes the house look a bit uncared-for. And I like the roses going all the way to the roof, but maybe they could be tied back, so they don’t grab you as you go past? And magnolia paint – so last century!’
Mary laughed.
‘You should tell Clive that he’d get far more money for it if it was in better repair. How old is the boiler?’
‘Not as old as I am,’ said Mary, ‘so it should be OK for another couple of years. It probably needs servicing though.’
‘But the views are sensational! A little careful tree felling would make them visible in summer, not just when the leaves are off the trees. And the rooms have lovely proportions. There are beams, but not too many or too low. Two good fireplaces and nice pale stone flags that help keep the rooms light. And if the damp patches could be treated and repainted, it would look so much better. I’d snap it up!
’ Hattie laughed, to hide her disappointment about the fact she could never have this cottage, which was her dream home.
Hattie knew she was flogging a dead horse but couldn’t help herself.
Clive’s selfishness when it came to his great-aunt never failed to enrage her.
‘That’s very useful. Thank you. Now, would you like a drink of some kind? Sherry? Tea?’
‘Actually, I shouldn’t stay as I’ve left Xander with Luke. He’s doing a barbecue. But I could certainly get you something. What do you fancy?’
Twenty minutes later, Hattie had made Mary a sandwich, a pot of peppermint tea with fresh mint from the garden, and had done an online shop for her, using her own credit card as she always did. Although Mary had carers, they couldn’t buy her groceries beyond the occasional bottle of milk.
‘You will let me know how much it comes to, won’t you, dear?’ said Mary, who was already looking brighter. ‘I can ask Clive to get the cash out for me.’
He’d love that, thought Hattie. He should be doing Mary’s online shopping, not her. The trouble was he was a bit of a Luddite himself. ‘Well, thirty pounds should cover it,’ she said, although she knew exactly how much it would be and thirty pounds wouldn’t cover it.
‘Are you sure? I’ve got that much in my bag. Hand it over to me, there’s a good girl.’
As Hattie walked back to the car, she wondered why she had lied about the cost of the shopping; it was because she knew Clive would harangue Mary if he thought she’d spent too much and she really didn’t want that. A ninety-year-old woman deserved the good biscuits.
Luke and Xander were chatting enthusiastically when Hattie rejoined them. As neither of them were exactly verbose, she wondered what they’d been talking about.
‘Xander’s been telling me about the quiz,’ said Luke. ‘It sounds as if it was good.’
‘Winning always helps,’ Hattie said, and was about to tell Luke about the trip to Paris as well, but she held back.
She hadn’t quite decided what to do with that prize yet.
Her immediate instinct had been to give it to Rose and Sam but someone else might need it more.
It was open-ended so there was no hurry.
Only very briefly had she considered going herself, but she had no one to go with.
‘The other team were pissed off that they didn’t have me on the team,’ said Xander. ‘They needed someone for computer games and music.’
‘Don’t let my sister hear you using words like “pissed”,’ said Hattie mildly. ‘She’d tell me I’m bringing you up all wrong.’
‘It’s not your job to bring me up,’ said Xander.
‘Not the point. She’d say I was a bad influence and, to be fair, she’s probably right.’
‘Time to eat,’ said Luke, getting to his feet. ‘What would you like, Hattie? A burger, some steak? A bit of everything?’