anything last night?
‘Do you think?’ asked Ava. ‘She gets really, really cross.’ She began pulling things out of her book bag, endless bits of paper which dragged in the bacon grease on her plate, a couple of reading books, and assorted bits of artwork as there was another almighty crash of a door slamming upstairs. ‘Do you like my lantern?’ She held up a bedraggled bit of paper Sellotaped together into a tube with long slashes down the side. ‘Here,’ she produced a yellow exercise book.
‘What were you supposed to do?’ I looked up at the ceiling wondering whether I should go after Poppy.
‘Spellings.’
‘Maybe we can practise them on the way to school.’
But she’d already opened the book and with her lip between her teeth had begun copying the list of ten words.
‘You need to go and get dressed Ava.’ My voice was firm, even though inside I felt a slight sense of panic.
‘But…’
‘There isn’t time.’
‘Pleeease, Auntie Claire.’ Her eyes started to brim with tears. ‘I’ll b-be b-bottom again. I’m always bottom an’ Lucy Chambers always gets ten out of ten.’
I winced. The girls had been so good all weekend and quite brave about their mother going away without them. Alice had made it sound as if she was going to have the jolliest adventure and she would bring them back something lovely. I had my doubts about that. The retreat she was going to was in the foothills of the Himalayas and was an hour’s domestic flight from Delhi. It looked very beautiful but also very remote.
‘Okay, two minutes. Let’s have a look.’
Where had I got the foolish notion that getting two children up and ready for school would take only an hour and a half and that we could leave at eight-thirty and be at school in plenty of time?
And now it seemed I couldn’t even run and breathe at the same time. I was back from my first school run and attempting a gentle jog. Bent double, I tried to suck in another breath. Definitely dying.
With a wheeze I straightened. This was supposed to be the start of my new keep-fit regime. Unable to help myself – it was a legitimate reason for contacting work – I’d emailed Dave and volunteered to join the 5k team. I might also have asked how things were going in the office.
With disgust I glanced back down the leafy path. I hadn’t even run that far.
There was only one thing for it: coffee. And thank God for The Friendly Bean, which was within staggering in distance. Urging my protesting wobbly thighs back into action, I walked to the café, grateful for the emergency fiver tucked into my phone case.
With coffee in hand, too self-conscious and aware of my beet-red face and underarm circles to stay inside, I limped out to the small enclosed area a little way beyond the café. Circled by shrubs and bushes, it had a small paved area with a pair of benches at right angles to each other bookmarked on either end by an abundant flower bed. It was filled with blousy peonies in shades of pale pink and dark rhubarb red, like big pom-poms surrounded by fans of dark green leaves. I stared at them for a moment, struck by the colours. When was the last time I’d actually noticed flowers? Or even had time to sit and look at them. Or to smell them. Everything had been grey for so long. Without thinking, I leaned over to take a deep sniff.
‘Gorgeous, aren’t they?’ said a voice.
Startled, I looked up to see an elderly lady with a fine frizz of soft white hair around her head, like a snowy aura, marching towards me. Something rattled at the back of my brain; she seemed awfully familiar.
She plonked herself down on my bench, almost spilling the coffee I’d put down next to me.
‘Lovely morning. You carry on with your communing with nature, dear. Don’t mind me.’
Feeling a little caught-on-the-hop, I gave her a weak smile. I didn’t normally ‘commune with nature’ as she’d put it. I probably looked a bit strange. Oh, to be in one of my smart suits like a normal person. I wanted to tell her that actually I had a very responsible job and was a ‘someone’ in real life. I closed my eyes as if doing so would shut her out and I could ignore her. I didn’t want to be that person who was desperate to talk to someone because it might be the only adult conversation I had all day. Maybe I could phone Ros and see how things were in the office. I winced thinking of all the things I should be doing there. The list started to snowball and I had to force myself to open my eyes.
The cheek! I looked into twinkling blue eyes peering at me over the top of… my takeaway coffee cup.
‘Help yourself, why don’t you?’ I said, taken aback but trying to gain the upper hand. My withering sarcasm failed to make so much as a dent in her cheery smile.
‘Don’t mind if I do.’ Without a care, she lifted my coffee in toast and took another slurp. ‘Oh, that hits the spot. I do adore a good cup of coffee. That’s one of the things I do miss.’
For a moment I stared at her, completely thrown by her blithe disregard of my indignation.
‘It’s not good for me,’ she said. ‘Bad for the old ticker, apparently. Why is it all the good stuff is so terribly bad for you? I mean, Brussels sprouts, they taste bloody awful and do dreadful things to your digestive system. I remember my Great Uncle Vincent – that man could clear a room… Why aren’t they bad for you? Swede, another disgusting, tasteless vegetable; why couldn’t that be terribly bad for you instead of chocolate and wine? I do love a good glass of Malbec. And the health police constantly on at you. I keep telling them I’m too old to care but… they insist on serving bloody decaffeinated rubbish. Instant at that. I ask you. I mean, what do you think about decaffeinated anything… a crime against human nature, I think. Stands to reason. God put caffeine in for a good reason. Not that I’m awfully matey with him up there right now. Guess I might decide to become better acquainted when I get closer to shuffling off the old mortal coil. You find that they all become God-botherers when they get older. I call it hedging your bets. Not me. If he doesn’t like me the way I am, tough cookies.’ She held out the coffee cup. ‘Here you go, dear. Don’t worry, I drank out of this side and I’ve got nothing worth mentioning. Not that I can recall anyway.’ Her brow furrowed as if she were giving it serious thought.
My lips twitched and much as I wanted to maintain a dignified distance and ignore her unwanted presence, I was intrigued and, to be honest, entertained by her. I rather liked her forthright untarnished views. She said it as she saw it and it was very refreshing.
I could see exactly which side she’d drunk from by the ring of fuchsia-pink lipstick lining the cup, so I took a sip of my coffee from the other side. It must be hell to have to go without coffee.
‘I’m Hilda.’
‘Claire.’
‘So what are you doing here?’ She eyed my shoes. ‘Running?’ She lifted her own feet and regarded her Day-glo trainers with satisfaction.
I laughed. ‘That was my intention. I’m a bit out of practice. Today was more about shuffling. I didn’t get very far.’
‘You’ll get better. I’ve
