Chapter Eighteen
The meeting with the maths tutor had gone well and Hattie was feeling relaxed as she waited in the queue of parents waiting to see the English tutor.
When suddenly she was no longer looking at the back of the person in front of her.
Instead, she saw a couple in a pub garden.
The man – the English tutor – was facing her and the woman was clearly recognisable, although Hattie only had a back view.
The neat blonde chignon, the Chanel-inspired suit, the Loewe handbag on the table in front of her and the large pearl earrings: it was her sister, Leonie.
The way the English tutor was twinkling indicated the pair were getting on very well.
It was a glimpse, nothing more, before Hattie found herself back in the noisy sports hall, surrounded by parents.
She would have very much liked to sit down and have some water – maybe a paracetamol or some Rescue Remedy, but there wasn’t time.
It was her turn to see the tutor, and, thank goodness, there was a chair.
Hattie sat on it and smiled. Her allotted ten minutes had begun and in this time she now had to get the necessary feedback about Xander’s progress and become friends with this man so she could introduce him to Leonie.
While it would serve her sister right if Hattie ignored the vision, Hattie couldn’t do it. Leonie may well be bossy and overbearing but she was still her sister.
‘Hello, Mr… Saye. As you probably know, I’m Xander’s aunt. His mother is away so Xander is living with me temporarily.’ She smiled, hoping Mr Saye would take it from here.
‘Ah, well, it’s good you could come.’
He had a nice voice, no obvious accent – her sister was a terrible snob and required RP English from all her friends – so this was a start. He wasn’t dashingly handsome but he looked pleasant and had no visible tattoos or anything. Her sister thought tattoos were beyond the pale.
‘So how is Xander getting on?’ Hattie smiled a little more enthusiastically than she would have done if it hadn’t been for the vision; she had to make this man her friend.
‘I don’t think English is his favourite subject. Has he been tested for dyslexia, do you know?’
‘I don’t think so, although I’m sure if there’d been any sign of it my sister would have had that done.’
‘It’s only a thought. He’s very creative when he contributes in class but his written work doesn’t really reflect that.’
‘Do you think he could do with some coaching? To help him get what’s in his head down on paper?
’ Hattie remembered someone saying something like this during her own school days.
Her talents had always been a bit hard to define.
Everyone agreed that she had them, but no one could decide exactly what they were.
Mr Saye inclined his head. ‘It’s hard to say, really.’
‘The thing is, my sister, being separated from Xander at the moment, is particularly anxious. I’m sure if I could tell her that he’s getting extra support from someone – you, for example – she’d feel a whole lot happier. She’d pay you for your time, of course.’ She smiled, she hoped, endearingly.
‘I don’t know if things really require—’
‘Please, Mr Saye. My sister wants what’s best for Xander more than anything. I’m sure a few extra lessons from you could really help.’
‘But why me?’ Mr Saye was looking kind but confused.
‘Because Xander really likes you. He mentions you when he’s at home. And he’s not a talkative boy – at home, anyway.’ Hattie hated lying, but all she wanted was Mr Saye’s contact details, then she could work something out. Maybe she could persuade Sheila to organise another quiz.
Still Mr Saye hesitated. Hattie produced a business card. ‘Do you have a card, Mr Saye?’
‘Er – no…’
‘Write your contact details on the back of mine. I know you’d be really helping Xander if you’d give him one session, even.
’ Hattie smiled admiringly, entreatingly, sending out waves of charm towards this innocent man.
She didn’t want it to look as if she was flirting with him, that would be quite inappropriate, but she did want his telephone number.
‘OK.’ Mr Saye took Hattie’s card. ‘Talk to Xander’s mother and I’ll see what I can do.’
Hattie walked away from the interview feeling sick. She needed to sit down for a few minutes to recover both from the vision and the subsequent manipulation of poor Mr Saye. Then she’d buy pizza to take back to Xander.
She had woken the following morning feeling out of sorts.
The previous evening had been lovely, eating takeaway pizza with Xander, but now she felt a bit unsettled.
She put it down to tiredness, and the new problem she faced with trying to get her sister and Mr Saye together.
Still, she had his phone number, although sadly not his given name.
After a fruitless viewing which caused her to wonder if her new client, Mrs Conway – a charming woman – had any idea at all of the cost of a grand period property.
Or if she realised she might have to have her own pond put in and plant a few roses in order to call a place perfect, Hattie found herself near Sheila’s house.
She decided to call her to see if she was up for a visit.
‘Hattie!’ said Sheila, delighted. ‘I was just about to ring you. I’ve got some gorgeous pictures of Fiona and Nick.’
‘Oh! I had a text from Fiona a little while ago, but no photos. She said she was very happy.’
‘I think she is. They’ve decided they will extend their holiday for a bit so she can really recover from everything Lance put her through.’ She paused. ‘I could send these pictures, but I’d love to see you.’
‘Well, I do happen to be very near your house if you were up for a visit.’
‘Lovely! We can have lunch. Malcolm’s playing golf.’
Feeling cheery, Hattie drove to Sheila’s house.
After showing to Hattie several photos of a very relaxed Fiona, in shorts and T-shirt, looking very happy, with Nick’s protective arm around her, Sheila turned her mind to lunch.
‘I’ve only got soup, bread and cheese and a bit of cold meat,’ Sheila said. ‘And I think I know I can’t press you to a glass of wine, but it’s sourdough bread from the van, and the cheese is local too.’
‘That sounds delicious,’ said Hattie, accepting the offered place at Sheila’s big kitchen table. ‘I’ve got a client – a really nice woman – but her wish list is a yard long and her budget isn’t nearly big enough and tactfully pointing all that out is tiring.’
‘How do you cope with that?’
‘I try to find out which of her list is really essential, and if her budget could be stretched if we found the perfect house. Every viewing is a learning opportunity. Eventually we’ll find a way to compromise but it can feel like doing things the hard way.’
‘That does sound exhausting,’ said Sheila. ‘Let me show you more photos while the soup warms.’
Hattie flicked through the photos on Sheila’s phone. There were a fair amount of city views, a couple of Nick holding different wine glasses in different bars and restaurants, but what made her really smile were the ones of Fiona.
‘Look at her there,’ said Sheila, looking over her shoulder. ‘Eating ice cream, not a scrap of make-up, looking as happy as a clam.’
‘She is so lovely, she really is. She doesn’t need make-up,’ said Hattie.
Sheila sighed. ‘I can’t wait to hear all about it. I told you, didn’t I, that they’ve decided to extend their trip? Nick is a “digital nomad” apparently, so can work from anywhere.’
Hattie laughed. ‘Convenient, in the circs!’ She paused and then went on. ‘Erm – have you heard anything from Lance?’
‘Well, he’s not going to be sending me friendly texts, but I have been keeping an eye on him.’
‘How have you done that?’ Hattie was impressed.
‘I’m a middle-class woman of a certain age: I can do anything! No, actually I’ve got a friend who’s been doing a bit of cyber-sleuthing. I think he’s planning to move to the States. Which would suit me just fine.’
‘And me!’ said Hattie. ‘I’ll feel safer when he’s out of the country.’ She stopped. She hadn’t meant Sheila to know she’d felt unsafe.
‘Oh, Hattie! Do you feel threatened? I wouldn’t blame you. He’s very frightening.’
Hattie put a reassuring hand on Sheila’s arm. ‘It’s fine. I’ve moved house. He won’t know where I am.’
‘You moved house? That’s a huge thing! We’ve been here two years and I still haven’t got over it!’
‘Oh, I move house quite often. It’s not that big a deal for me.’
Sheila raised her eyebrows and then smiled. ‘So where have you moved to?’
‘It’s very near where I lived before but smaller. Tiny in fact. It’s a lodge. Now we’ve decorated, it’s really nice. Luke did a few running repairs.’
‘Is Luke your—’
‘No,’ said Hattie quickly. ‘Just a very good friend.’
Sheila nodded. ‘Let’s have lunch. I even took a couple of desserts out of the freezer that weren’t eaten at the non-wedding reception.’
‘Was there much wasted?’
‘No,’ said Sheila. ‘Quite a lot of it was eaten and everything that wasn’t, I put in the freezer. I bought a second freezer instantly, so it’s all still there. We could have another party!’
‘It’s a lovely time of year for parties. My birthday is this month and I can quite often celebrate in the garden.’
Sheila’s eyes widened in excitement. ‘Oh! Let me give you a birthday party! I want to celebrate Fi and Nick coming back but they might think that a bit over the top, but if it was your birthday party, we could invite lots of people. Would you like that? Think it over. Let’s eat.’
Hattie accepted a bowl full of salad leaves with a wonderful dressing that Sheila handed her, enjoying the feeling of being mothered. ‘This is delicious!’ she said a couple of minutes later. ‘You’re so good in the kitchen.’