Chapter Forty
Once more it was raining and as Nina stood at the gallery window looking out at the deserted cobbled street, she was grateful that the weather had held that morning while she and Cassie had been in the woods with Venetia burying Bon-Bon.
To have carried out their sad task in the pouring rain would have been so much worse.
Cassie had originally planned to come in to the gallery today but had opted to stay at home to be with Emily.
Nina had understood perfectly, and besides there really wasn’t much to do.
Other than worry if things would ever pick up again.
Even during the pandemic when everything was shut during the various periods of lockdown, it hadn’t felt as bad as this.
People had still wanted nice things, perhaps more so when life had suddenly felt so fragile and ephemeral, and in consequence Lavelle’s online sales had been remarkably buoyant.
But now, and following weeks of dreadful weather and endless news reports of the economy stalling, business was far from brisk.
Nina wasn’t the only one to feel the lack of customers; her neighbours in St Anne’s Court – Jeremy who owned Quantock’s Antiquarian Bookshop on one side and Philip who owned Blythe’s Antiques directly opposite – had both complained bitterly that if things didn’t improve, they might just as well pull the shutters down and go home.
For good. To ease their boredom, they had taken to popping in to chat with Nina.
She knew them of old as they’d both been great friends with her parents.
They had known Nina since she was a child and still occasionally treated her in much the same way, especially so since Hugh’s death, seeing it as their duty, in the guise of avuncular uncles, to ensure she was all right.
Today was Philip’s seventy-first birthday and he and Jeremy were coming in later to drink to the passing of yet another year. She really wasn’t in the mood for company, not after the events of last night and this morning, but it would have been churlish to disappoint the two old friends.
However, within no time of their arrival on the dot of three o’clock, and armed with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and some of Jeremy’s delicious homemade cheese straws, her mood was pleasantly improved as they traded insults with one another in their customary fashion.
They continued in this way for some minutes while topping up their glasses until Jeremy turned his attention on Nina.
‘So what’s happened to the delectably handsome young Jakob?’ he enquired. ‘We enjoyed having him around again, he brightened the place up a treat.’
Nina winced at the word ‘young’. ‘He’s in Oslo for a while,’ she said, non-committally. Then more teasingly, ‘And are you saying I don’t brighten the place up enough for you?’
‘Darling, you’re the brightest star in St Anne’s Court, and always will be,’ replied Philip, ‘but please say that Jakob is definitely coming back to us.’
‘He is, indeed,’ she said, ‘he’s working at Lavelle’s on a permanent basis now.’
‘That’s excellent news!’ said Philip, helping himself to another cheese straw.
‘Now, now, don’t you go getting any ideas about him,’ Jeremy said warningly. ‘You’re far too old for the likes of Jakob.’
‘You silly old fool,’ Philip remonstrated, ‘I’m not in the slightest bit interested in him, why would I be when he only has eyes for our darling Nina?’
Nina spluttered on a mouthful of champagne which she’d just been about to swallow, narrowly avoiding spitting it across her desk.
Philip laughed. ‘Touched a nerve, have I, sweetie?’ he said with a playful drawl.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she replied.
‘Come off it, Nina, we all know that the boy is besotted with you, and who could blame him?’
‘He’s not a boy,’ she said firmly. A little too firmly. ‘He’s a grown man.’
‘To a pair of old duffers like us, he’s but a fledgeling, as are you, petal,’ remarked Jeremy. ‘Now tell us all. Are you as madly in love with him as he is with you?’
Conscious that she was blushing furiously – this was the very kind of ‘going public’ she still wasn’t ready for – Nina shook her head. ‘Honestly,’ she said with a tut, ‘what have you two been drinking before coming here, a magnum of crazy-juice?’
Philip clapped his hands. ‘The lady doth protest too much!’
‘Spill the beans, dear one,’ encouraged Jeremy. ‘Don’t make us beg, not when we’re so fond of you.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of making you beg,’ she said, ‘but seriously all I can share with you is that—’ She broke off.
‘Go on,’ Jeremy urged, leaning forward in his chair.
But Nina didn’t. Because there in the pouring rain out on the street looking in through the window was a pitifully bedraggled Hilary. Next to her was a man in a high-vis jacket and he appeared to have a hand placed firmly on Hilary’s arm.
‘Is that Hugh’s mother?’ asked Jeremy, following her gaze and frowning.
‘Somebody should tell her about timing,’ muttered Philip, ‘because hers is decidedly off!’
Sensing that something awful must have happened, Nina went to the door.
Hilary sat in stony silence while Nina drove her home to Madingley.
To anything Nina said, the woman kept her mouth rigidly shut and her gaze ahead of her.
On her lap, she clutched her handbag as though terrified it might be snatched from her grasp.
It reminded Nina of Venetia that morning in the woods when she had held on so tightly to the wooden box which had contained her beloved dog.
On the drive at The Maples, she brought the car to a stop in front of the garage, switched off the engine and released her seatbelt. She looked at Hilary, expecting her to do the same, but the woman continued to sit there staring blankly at the garage doors.
‘The doors need repainting,’ she murmured vaguely. ‘Keith said he’d do it. He’d been saying that ever since … ever since Hugh died.’
‘Come on,’ Nina said encouragingly, ‘let’s get you inside and changed out of your wet clothes. I’ll make you a hot drink and light the fire in the sitting room. You’ll feel better then.’
Hilary shook her head. ‘I’ll never feel better,’ she said bleakly. ‘Never.’
Deciding she had to be more resolute, Nina stepped out of the car and went round to the passenger side.
She opened the door and after leaning across and releasing Hilary’s seatbelt, she took the woman’s left arm and eased her to her feet.
Locking the car, Nina then very carefully, as though her mother-in-law was now a fragile old lady who couldn’t walk without support, helped her to the front door.
Once there, she pointed to Hilary’s handbag and asked for the front door key.
‘I can do it myself,’ Hilary muttered, looking over her shoulder to the houses on the other side of the road, worried perhaps that her neighbours might see her in this uncharacteristically dishevelled state.
Once inside, and after kicking off her wet shoes and removing her sodden cashmere coat which had done little to protect her from the heavy downpour of rain, Hilary seemed to regain some of her former self and insisted she could go upstairs on her own to change.
Nina watched her climb the stairs, one slow step at a time, her hand on the banister.
When she’d reached the landing and crossed it to go to her bedroom, Nina went into the sitting room and started work on getting a log fire going.
The house didn’t feel cold, the central heating must have come on, but if nothing else the effect of a real fire would be a comfort.
Putting the fire guard in place, she then went back out to the hall and into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
There she was met with a sight she never dreamt she would ever see at The Maples.
It looked like nothing had been put away or cleaned in a very long time.
There was a foul smell coming from somewhere and after tracking it down to the bin, she lifted out the offending and overflowing bag and holding it at arm’s distance, she took it outside to the bin store.
The black bin was full, and Nina had a hard job squeezing the bag into it.
Had Hilary been forgetting to put the bins out, as well as not bothering to clean the kitchen?
Nina felt awful now that she hadn’t made more of an effort to check in with Hilary. It was weeks since she had spoken to her. The last time had been to tell her mother-in-law that the embryos at the clinic were going to be destroyed. There had been no contact between them since.
So what had been going on in the intervening weeks to push Hilary over the edge and lead her to do the unthinkable today, to shoplift in John Lewis? All things considered; she’d been lucky to be let off so lightly.
The security guard who had witnessed Hilary stealing a Babygro from the baby department had been very understanding.
‘We’ve seen it before,’ the man had told Nina in a quiet voice, ‘women getting on in years and who … well … you know … lose touch with reality.’ He’d tapped the side of his head as if that explained and justified everything.
It’s the shame, that’s what always gets them, and distresses them, when they suddenly realise what they’ve done and what people will think.
My old gran did it once, got herself in a right old state after my granddad died.
She nicked a load of chocolate bars, couldn’t help herself.
Anyway, your mother-in-law mentioned you, so I accompanied her here, just to make sure she was okay. I did the right thing, didn’t I?’
‘Of course,’ Nina had said. ‘Absolutely. And thank you for being so good about it.’
Back in the kitchen she washed her hands and contemplated where to start with tidying up but decided it could wait until she’d made a pot of tea. Which was a challenge as she couldn’t find any clean mugs and the teapot was nowhere to be seen.
Eventually she found it buried under a pile of used hand towels and after washing a couple of mugs, she opened the fridge for some milk.
There was one carton of milk, but the shelves of the fridge held nothing more than a tub of spreadable Lurpak, a couple of wrinkly apples, a piece of cheese that looked dried out and an opened bag of withered carrots.
There was work to be done here, thought Nina. Hilary reaching out to Nina, of all people, had to represent a significant and desperate cry for help.
What was more, Keith needed to know what was going on. He might have imagined he’d cut himself free from his wife, but he would have to step up and pitch in.