CHAPTER THIRTY
‘Mrs Baxter, how are you?’ It was Mrs Meadows, the woman who’d shared a ward with her a few months ago. They smiled at each other in recognition in the corridor of the private clinic they both attended. Lily had come for an eye check-up, and Mrs Meadows had been for her six-monthly visit to see her geriatrician. ‘A lovely man, indeed, and very handsome. Not like the rip I went to for my heart trouble recently,’ she informed Lily, holding open the door for her. ‘How are you getting on, Mrs Baxter?’ She settled into step beside Lily as they walked down the long driveway to the main road.
‘Well, it’s been a hard enough time, Mrs Meadows,’ Lily explained. ‘My daughter, Judith, was in a bad car accident and nearly died. She’s still in hospital but coming along grand.’
‘Well, God help you!’ Mrs Meadows exclaimed. ‘Are you in a hurry home or would you have time for a cuppa? We’re so close to the Botanics, and it’s a fine day.’
‘Do you know, that would be a treat.’ Lily was delighted with the invite. Although the other woman didn’t know it, Moira Meadows had been her great inspiration, the one who had shown her how a positive attitude and a degree of bravery could enhance and enrich a life. Had she not met her, Lily felt sure she would never have had the courage to change. When she’d heard her talk about living on her own with not a bother, and not allowing herself to become dependent on her sons, Lily had felt ashamed, thinking of how she’d clung leechlike to Judith. Moira Meadows had been a shining example to her, although she would never know it.
Twenty minutes later, the pair were sitting at a window table, sipping tea and eating hot buttered scones with jam. It was a rare, glorious sunny day, and the windows of the refurbished palm house sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. The tropical border was ablaze with colour, and they had decided to go for a walk after their repast. Judith had told her mother not to come visiting because of her appointment with the eye specialist, so Lily was in no rush home.
Mrs Meadows listened intently as Lily described the events of the past couple of months, confiding how nerve-wracking it had been to live on her own at the beginning and how daunting to venture back into the outside world.
‘Well now, aren’t you wonderful, Mrs Baxter?’ she praised. ‘And hasn’t Judith’s accident been a blessing in disguise for you both? There you are, getting on with your life, setting Judith free, and now she’ll have a whole new life ahead of her with her own roof over her head and independence. It’s a strange thing, but I’ve often found that sometimes, what seems like a terrible hardship can be a most valuable gift.’
‘Well, do you know? When you look at it like that, I have to say you’re right, Mrs Meadows. I’d never thought of it that way before.’ Lily nodded in agreement, enjoying her chat with the other woman immensely. ‘And why have you to see a heart specialist?’ she asked, feeling it was rude to spend the whole time talking about herself.
‘I need a stent put in,’ Mrs Meadows declared. ‘But I can tell you one thing, the fella I was sent to was the rudest little ornament I ever met. If there’s ever anything wrong with your heart – and I hope there won’t be – never go to a fella called Davenport. When I think of the impudence of him, it galls me, Mrs Baxter. Galls me. But I gave him his answer, I can tell you.’ Her eyes shone triumphantly at the memory, and Lily listened avidly, marvelling at her companion’s pluck.
‘What happened?’ she inquired, taking a ladylike sip of tea. Mrs Meadows needed no second urging.
‘In I goes to his posh office – my son insisted on me going private, even though it costs an arm and a leg,’ she explained. That wouldn’t be Tom, Lily thought sarcastically, but said nothing, and Mrs Meadows continued. ‘Hello, doctor, said I, holding out my hand to shake his – good manners, like, Mrs Baxter.’ She looked at Lily for affirmation.
‘Indeed,’ said Lily.
‘ “I’m not a doctor, I’m a professor,” said yer man, a big tall fella with a head of white hair on him and a nose like a crow’s beak. But I had the measure of him while he was there, looking down his snout at me.
‘ “You’re not a doctor?” said I. “Oh dear!” I was being sarcastic, of course.’
‘Of course,’ tittered Lily, wishing she could be so outspoken.
‘ “I am a doctor but I’m a professor, my good woman,” he snapped, just like that. “My good woman,” he called me, in a very sneery tone of voice. Something was surely biting him that day, but he picked the wrong woman to give impudence to,’ declared Mrs Meadows.
‘He certainly did, he was a foolish man indeed,’ smiled Lily, enjoying the tale.
‘ “Now my good man,” said I, “if I’m paying you 180 euro – and that’s an exorbitant amount, if you don’t mind my saying so – that means I’m employing you to provide me with a service and, as your employer, the one who pays your wages today, I expect to be treated with courtesy, manners and respect. However, I don’t like the look of you, or the manner of you, so I won’t be having you. Good day to you, professor,” said I, emphasizing the professor. And then I walked out,’ she said proudly. ‘I hope he’s still picking his jaw up off the floor. The cheek of him! Some of them are like little tin gods, Mrs Baxter, and need taking down a peg or two, and I’m just the one to do it. They won’t treat me like dirt.’
‘Indeed, and you’re absolutely right: they forget who pays their wages, so they do. Well done. I’d love to have seen that.’
‘You have to stand up for yourself, Mrs Baxter. No one else will and, from what I’ve heard, you’re doing a fine job of it. Now, you’ll be lonely when Judith moves out, so why don’t we exchange numbers and we could meet for a cup of tea every so often? I don’t live too far from you; I’m just up the road off Griffith Avenue. And, do you know, a few friends and myself go to the bingo twice a week in Whitehall. Have you ever been to bingo?’ Her blue eyes were as bright as two little diamonds as she stared across the table at Lily.
‘Ah, no – the crowds, you know,’ she murmured as her heart gave a little flutter.
‘Now, don’t worry, we always sit by the door because Evelyn, one of the women, is a bit claustrophobic. But, sure, look, come with us one night and see how you feel. It’s great fun,’ Mrs Meadows urged.
‘We’ll see,’ Lily hedged. Some steps took more courage than she possessed.
‘I’ll show you the ropes, don’t worry,’ the other woman said cheerfully and, once again, Lily marvelled at, and envied her, her passion for life.
It was after five before she got home, and she inhaled the unmistakable smell of new paint. Jimmy had done a lovely job on the house. He’d painted the hall, the stairs, and the landing and bathroom as well as her sitting room after he’d finished the bedrooms, and he hadn’t charged her a fortune. It was worth every penny to have the house looking so well. It was fresh and clean, and it shone like a new pin from the thorough cleaning she had given it. Judith was coming home the following day. Jillian was going to collect her from the hospital and stay for the night, so the small guestroom was all ready for her, with the bed made up and brand-new towels rolled up neatly on the chair for her.
Lily had bought three sirloin steaks for the dinner; sirloin steak was Judith’s favourite meal. She’d cook fried onions with it, and creamy mashed potato. She’d bought a pavlova from Thunders, another favourite of her daughter’s. And she had another surprise that she herself was looking forward to.
Tomorrow was going to be a momentous day. It would be strange having Judith back in the house again after all this time. Who would have ever thought that Lily would get used to living on her own? Now, she didn’t get out of bed two or three times a night to check that all the windows and doors were locked, as she had in the early days of Judith’s hospital stay. Neither did she jump at every sound on the street. These nights she said her prayers and went asleep and slept better than she had in years.
She had enjoyed the day so much, Lily thought as she lay in drowsy contemplation of its events, having said her prayers. The unexpected meeting with Mrs Meadows and the tea and walk in the Botanic Gardens had been a wonderful treat. They had strolled along admiring the glorious herbaceous border and had crossed the river to admire the marvellous profusion of blooms in the formal rose garden, with its sundial right in the centre and the weeping willow dipping its graceful branches almost into the river that rushed and roared over the falls beyond the hedge.
She hadn’t been in the Botanic Gardens since Ted had died, and it brought back poignant but comforting memories. She would look forward to meeting Mrs Meadows again. She had written her number down in her telephone book – but she baulked at the notion of playing bingo in a crowded hall. That would be a step too far. She knew her limitations, Lily decided, rearranging her hairnet and settling down to sleep.
‘Post for you, Judith.’ Margaret, her favourite nurse, waved an envelope at her as she walked into Judith’s small room. ‘I see you’re all ready to go. Well done, and take it easy now. Don’t take on too much – let your body and mind recover and get plenty of rest,’ she advised.
‘I will,’ Judith promised. ‘I’m going to stay with a friend of mine for a few weeks, she lives near a lovely lake.’
‘Well, let’s hope the weather improves and we get an Indian summer, because it’s been a disaster, hasn’t it?’ The nurse took her wrist and began to check her pulse.
‘I suppose it didn’t matter to me because I was in here, but it’s back to real life now.’ Judith turned the letter over, wondering who it was from.
‘How do you feel about that?’ Margaret asked. ‘You’ve been in hospital for quite a while. It will be hard to adjust, so don’t worry if you find it all a bit overwhelming,’ she said reassuringly.
‘I suppose the worst thing will be getting behind the wheel of a car again – I’m dreading that,’ Judith confessed.
‘Well, don’t rush it, take it all in easy stages,’ the nurse advised, taking Judith’s temperature for one last time.
When she was gone, Judith sat in her chair by the window and opened the envelope. A thank-you card fell into her lap, and she wondered why would anyone be thanking her. She was the one who had many people to thank, and the previous evening she had spent a good hour writing her thank-you notes. She opened the card, a pretty one with a little bear holding a bouquet, and read:
Dear Judith,
I just wanted to thank you for arranging for my increment to be paid. It was kind of you to do it from your hospital bed. It came as a very welcome surprise last payday.
I hope you’re feeling much better. We heard you’re getting out of hospital, so the best of luck and I hope that your recovery goes well.
Thanks again,
Sincerely,
Debbie Kinsella
What an unexpected surprise, thought Judith, pleased that Debbie had gone to the trouble of writing. It was extremely decent of the girl after all Judith had put her through, she thought with a pang of guilt. Not many would have done it. Debbie had gone up another few notches in her estimation, Judith decided as she reread the note. Maybe it was a good omen, a sign that both of them were moving on and making a new start. Judith would hold that thought. She tried to quell the collywobbles she was feeling.
What would it be like living at home again with her mother? Would old ways resurface, and would Lily become dependent? Would Judith feel stultified and resentful, or would it all have changed? Did Lily really mean it about putting her name on the deeds, or would that go by the wayside once things were back to normal? Was getting a place of her own just a pipedream?
Judith took a few deep breaths. This was the start of her second chance: she would not ruin it by negative thinking, she told herself sternly, putting Debbie’s thank-you card in her handbag. She stood up, wandered over to the mirror at the small sink, and retouched her lipstick. Her hair was streaked with grey and badly needed a cut and colour; she had it coiled up on her head, and she couldn’t wait to make an appointment with her hairdresser. Her cheeks were pale and sunken, but a few days of sunshine and fresh air would sort that, she assured herself, noting how loose her trousers were. This small room had been her haven from the world, but it was time to go and pick up the reins of her life again. Soon, Jillian and her mother would come to collect her. She would do her very best to put on a brave face and try not to let them see how apprehensive she was, Judith promised herself, blotting her lipstick with a tissue.
‘I’ll wait here until you come back. I’m sure Judith would much prefer to have Jillian collect her than me. I brought some cream cakes to welcome her home.’ Tom plonked a square white box on the kitchen table.
‘I don’t know what time we’ll get home at,’ Lily said, quite vexed, but trying hard not to show it. Tom had arrived minutes ago, offering to collect Judith when he knew very well that Jillian was doing the honours. She couldn’t very well throw him out of the house, Lily thought crossly.
‘The place looks great. How are you, Jillian? Long time no see,’ he said chattily, sitting down at the table.
‘I’m fine, Tom,’ Jillian said politely.
‘And you like living in culchie land?’ He chuckled at his little joke.
‘Love it,’ she said evenly.
‘Just excuse me a moment if you don’t mind,’ Lily said. ‘I want to get my jacket and a clean handkerchief.’
Tom threw his eyes up to heaven when she left the kitchen. ‘Still uses handkerchiefs, wouldn’t use a tissue to save her life.’
‘A lot of old people do. My mother does, and they’re always scented with lavender.’ Jillian wanted to say ‘you pillock’, but she refrained, admirably.
‘So Judith’s going to stay with you for a while?’ Tom changed the subject.
‘I hope so,’ Jillian agreed.
‘Umm . . . I’ll have to keep an eye on Ma then, she’s come to depend on me a lot. I got the place painted for her,’ he boasted. ‘Have to keep it in good nick; we don’t want it falling around her ears. And it needs to be well kept when the time comes to sell it.’ He looked at Jillian over the rim of his bifocals, reminding her of Alex Ferguson, as he chewed gum relentlessly, his jaws working like pistons.
‘Are we ready, dear?’ Lily appeared at the door, looking serene.
‘We are if you are.’ Jillian smiled at her.
‘Tom, put those cakes in the fridge, and make yourself a cup of tea if you wish, and be sure to wash your cup. I want the place to be ship shape when Judith comes home,’ Lily instructed.
Tom stopped chewing. ‘OK, Ma,’ he said slowly. ‘If you want to give me a ring when you’re at Griffith Avenue, I’ll make a pot of tea,’ he offered.
‘Oh, it’s not tea we’ll be drinking,’ Lily said gaily as she followed Jillian out the door.
What on earth did his ma mean by that? Tom resumed chewing as he heard the front door close. He made his way into Lily’s sitting room to watch their departure, noting how attentive and kind Jillian was, holding the car door open for his mother and helping her to adjust her seatbelt. He had made his offer to collect Judith knowing full well that Jillian was going to do it, and in the certain knowledge that it would be refused. No sooner had the car disappeared out of sight than he hurried back to the kitchen to shove the cakes in the fridge. It was immaculate, and smelt clean, he noted, not like their fridge freezer at home, which was always sticky and grimy with mouldy cheeses and out-of-date ham turning green and curling up at the edges.
What was Lily doing with a bottle of Moët in the fridge? Jillian must have bought it, he surmised, noting the green bottle lying on its side. He slammed the door shut and raced up the stairs two at a time, finally getting the chance he’d been looking for. He couldn’t believe his luck. After all his scheming to get a key, and having to pay to have the bedrooms painted, to no avail, today, his mother had just left him alone, without a thought, to poke around to his heart’s content. How strange life was, he reflected as, a touch breathless, he reached the top of the stairs.
Lily’s bedroom door was half open. He couldn’t believe it. He hurried into the room, sniffing the faint scent of powder and lily-of-the-valley perfume. He stood and took a deep breath. Four big drawers in the chest. Two dressing-table drawers, a bedside locker and her wardrobe. Lily’s papers could be anywhere, even stuffed in old handbags on top of the wardrobe. He must make sure to put everything back exactly as he found it so as not to raise his mother’s suspicions. When he’d found what he was looking for he’d have a rummage through Judith’s stuff. Might as well see what little secrets she had stashed away while he was at it. Brimming with anticipation, Tom set to his task.
‘Have you to get shopping?’ Judith asked as Jillian parked the car on double yellows outside a small group of shops and offices not far from home.
‘Just get out, Judith, and open the door for me like a good girl,’ Lily ordered crisply from the back seat. She’d insisted that Judith sit in the front seat with her friend on the journey home.
‘OK. Where are you going?’ Judith extracted herself from her seatbelt and opened the front door.
‘We are going into Mr Martin, Judith. He has everything ready for us to sign on the dotted line. It won’t take five minutes, he said. Jillian’s very kindly offered to wait. She knows all about it – we planned it when we knew you were getting out.’ Lily was so excited her eyes were dancing.
Judith burst into tears, remembering her unworthy thoughts in the hospital.
‘Now, don’t cry, for goodness’ sake,’ her mother protested in dismay.
‘Get in there, Judith, and do what your mother tells you,’ Jillian said sternly. ‘And hurry up, here’s a warden. I’ll do a circuit.’
‘Ma, are you sure? I don’t expect you to do this,’ Judith said earnestly as she limped slowly alongside her mother to a dark-red door with several gold plates on the side of it.
‘I know you don’t. But the sooner we do it the better. Your brother’s at home waiting for our return and no doubt having a grand old root around – but he can root all he wants, because I have everything he’ll be interested in in my handbag, and I’ve locked your door. So he’s wasting his time and, by the time we get home, you’ll be on the deeds, and there won’t be a thing he can do about it.’ Lily smiled smugly. She was getting just as good as Mrs Meadows for asserting herself, she decided, peering for the buzzer and pressing it confidently, unaware that her daughter was looking at her almost in awe.
The ould bitch had locked Judith’s room. She must have known he’d go prying. There was nothing of any interest in her own room, although he’d gone through it meticulously. He wasn’t staying here to have tea and cakes and listen to women yattering; he had plenty of other things to be doing, Tom decided, bitterly disappointed and thoroughly disgruntled.
‘Have to go, got a call from work,’ he scrawled on the back of a flyer he found on the mantelpiece. Lily and Judith were in cahoots, it was clear, and the pair of witches was keeping him in the dark. And they’d had their bedrooms painted for free, paid for with his hard-earned money. It was the last penny of his either of them would ever see, Tom swore, as he let himself out, slamming the door behind him.
‘I never drank real champagne before,’ Lily confided as she held out her glass for a top-up. ‘Well, we had Babycham at your father’s and my wedding, but that’s not real champagne like this. I thought it would be a great treat for us and something to make this a special oosasio— ossio— occasion.’ She gave a tipsy little giggle, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright and giddy.
‘Drink up there, Mrs Baxter,’ Jillian grinned, filling up her glass. ‘And you, too, Judith.’
‘To Judith. A dear daughter and now a woman of property.’ Lily raised her glass a little unsteadily before taking a gulp, laughing when the fizz tickled her nose.
‘To you, Mother, for your kindness and bravery. I’m so grateful to you and so proud of you – well done.’ Judith clinked her glass with Lily’s, almost overwhelmed.
‘And to a very special occasion,’ Jillian toasted, as mother and daughter embraced affectionately, faces wreathed in smiles.