Chapter 51
FIFTY-ONE
She hated doing Zooms like that, with her at home and Matt in the office.
It was a reminder how much of his life went on in that other world, separate from her.
Although they managed a quick chat after Anwar had left the call, she could see there were already other people around him, setting up for his next meeting.
She felt as if she’d been hit by a bus – even physically dragging herself from room to room was an effort.
So Jamie’s response to their refusal to sell Trade Cottage was to engage lawyers to simply take it from them.
It was horrendous – arrogant, entitled and, yes, to use Anwar’s word, bullying.
But what could they do? Anwar had left them in no doubt that, in a case like this, the party most determined to double down and raise the stakes was the one most likely to win.
She cursed Jamie Finch aloud, speaking his name to the house’s walls as if willing Trade Cottage itself to take the problem and solve it for them – ideally, in a way that involved Jamie vanishing from the face of the earth forever.
She’d pulled herself together by the time Matt got home, but, even then, it wasn’t possible to discuss it properly.
Tilly wanted him to hear her ukelele practice, and he was making time to chat to Will every day, too, usually over a game of draughts or Uno.
Their son still wasn’t really talking about Paul’s death, but they wanted him to feel supported, and to know he could discuss his feelings with them if he wanted to.
It was gone nine when they finally had some time to themselves. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked gently.
She shrugged. ‘Battered. And, I suppose, a bit guilty, now I’ve had a chance to think about it more.
Rosemary and I talked about dementia a couple of times – she was clearly worried about it.
Perhaps I should have pushed harder – found out if there were little signs she wasn’t telling me about . . .’
‘I still don’t accept she has Alzheimer’s,’ Matt said, shaking his head.
‘I was reading about it on the train – stages one and two are indistinguishable from normal ageing, and stage three is a bunch of tiny things that may or may not mean anything. And even if she does have the early signs of it, she knew exactly what she was doing back in April, when they accepted our offer. They both did.’
‘She called Jason at the pub “Jake”. And she hid the notes about Captain Pelham behind the bath, then forgot she’d put them there.
And do you remember when she called Paul a stupid old cripple?
He didn’t seem surprised – maybe he’d seen mood swings like that before.
Maybe Jamie had too, for that matter.’ She was still smarting from the sneering way Jamie had told her that Rosemary didn’t really like her.
Was it possible he was right? He’d known his mother all his life, after all, whereas Kate had only known her a few months.
Could their friendship really be nothing more than a figment of a confused, fading mind?
‘Maybe,’ Matt said. ‘But all of that could also just be old age. I looked at the screening tool GPs use for dementia, and it’s really big things, like whether you can draw a clock face, and if you know what month it is.
If it comes to a court hearing, we’ll have her checked out by a doctor from our own side. ’
She caught the implication. ‘So you’re definitely thinking we’ll fight it? Can we afford to?’
Matt sighed. ‘Probably not, as things stand. We might be able to get a bigger mortgage, now we’ve got that planning permission.
There’d be a cost for that, though – we’d have to pay an early repayment charge on our existing loan.
Then there are all these builders – it’s about twenty grand a month to keep them going, now.
It’s unfortunate he’s hitting us with this just when we’re at our most stretched. ’
‘Which of course is deliberate.’ She glanced at him. ‘Any news at work?’
‘Nothing good,’ he admitted. ‘It looks like I might have to lawyer up for that as well.’
‘Is there a chance we could go under?’ She spoke calmly – she knew, if she sounded anxious, he’d immediately clam up and say everything was going to be fine.
‘A chance, yes.’ He exhaled. ‘Sometimes, it’s like staring into an abyss.’
‘I could go back to work part-time. I know it won’t bring in much, but . . .’
Matt shook his head. ‘You’re project-managing the builders. Not to mention running the children around, supervising homework and fixing up the house. No, you keep doing what you’re doing. We’ll just have to play Jamie at his own game, and hope something turns up in the meantime.’
‘Whatever happens,’ she said, reaching for his hand, ‘at least we’ve got each other, and the children. He can’t take our family away from us. We’re going to be fine.’
They were meant as words of reassurance, for him, but she was surprised to discover that she really meant them; that what she felt, when she contemplated taking on Jamie now, was not so much fear, as the adrenalin of battle.