Chapter 26
The sound of crockery smashing onto the flagstones made Holly jump that afternoon as she dropped by to update Elsie on their progress with the auction plan. She pulled out her front door key and let herself in. ‘Are you okay? Elsie? It’s me, Holly.’
‘I’m fine, just fine,’ called back Elsie, her voice barely audible above the television that was blasting from the kitchen. Dumping her bag, Holly rushed through, blinking to adjust her eyes as she went from the darkness of the hallway to the sunshine flooding the kitchen, its French windows flung open into the garden.
Elsie was standing in front of the enormous oak kitchen dresser with her hands on her hips, a determined set to her face and broken crockery scattered across the flagstone floor. ‘I never did like that soup tureen anyway, so let’s not get too emotional about a little slip.’ She gave a large broken handle a dismissive kick with her foot.
Holly passed through relieved, on to confused, before settling somewhere between the two. ‘Shall I just turn the television down a notch?’ She walked over to where Antiques Roadshow was building to its denouement and hesitated, surprisingly keen to see whether the stuffed shirt in a tweed jacket was about to be delighted or humiliated by his confident offering to the experts.
Elsie walked over to stand beside her. ‘You just hope it’s a knock-off when they look that self-satisfied, don’t you?’
Holly smiled, familiar with Elsie’s well-developed sense of schadenfreude and wondering if it was contagious. Sure enough, the florid gentleman in question was slowly deflating as the ceramics expert quietly pointed out all the ways that his ‘six-figure vase’ turned out to be flawed.
Elsie flicked the television set to standby and pulled at Holly’s arm. ‘Come and see this. You see, I was watching earlier on and they did a wonderful piece about vintage ceramics.’ She waved her hand at the dresser, its laden shelves groaning and its cupboard doors flapping open like wings to reveal even more treasure within. ‘And Grace had got me thinking with all her suggestions. You know, we’re both rather excited about my auction idea! I’ve been going through the china looking for something fabulous to donate.’
Holly felt a little piqued. She’d been secretly looking forward to doing that with Elsie herself, knowing and privately sharing her true and abiding love for Antiques Roadshow.
Elsie frowned. ‘Honestly, Holly, don’t look so blank – you can’t have pregnancy brain already. We all need to find a little something special.’
Holly laughed at Elsie’s insistent tone; Elsie on a mission was a force to be reckoned with. ‘I think Taffy and I might struggle on that front,’ she confessed, thinking about the heaps of mismatched china and melamine that comprised their ‘dinner service’.
Elsie didn’t contradict her, knowing full well that Holly’s house had become a triumph of domesticity over style the moment the twins had arrived. She merely nodded in agreement. ‘Well, maybe there’s a little something around here you could contribute instead,’ she offered.
Holly yawned and stretched, the slight tightening of her waistband making her smile. There was a little part of her that wanted to ignore everything else in the world right now and focus on the fluttering feelings of nerves and excitement about her pregnancy. It was proving one of the hardest secrets she’d ever had to keep and, if she was honest, it was one of the reasons she’d popped round to see Elsie – at least with her, and with Lizzie, there was no need for pretence. She just wanted the peace of mind from her scan before she started spreading the happy news.
Holly picked up and examined a bone china curiosity, turning it this way and that to try and divine its purpose. ‘Don’t you think it would be nice though, Elsie, if just one year could go by without some big drama or catastrophe?’ she asked thoughtfully.
Elsie shook her head. ‘Pish-tosh. Don’t you know it’s the drama that keeps a community together? And it keeps me young! Don’t wish that away, will you?’ she said with a laugh.
Holly hesitated, unable to jump on board with Elsie’s ebullient enthusiasm for a crisis. ‘I know, I know, but I wouldn’t say no to a little happy-ever-after about now, would you?’
‘You’re a fine one to talk,’ smiled Elsie, shaking her head. ‘All that work to plan the perfect wedding and you’re talking about putting it on hold. So what if you look a little spherical in the photos, darling? It could still be wonderful—’
Holly laughed, actually rather entertained by the notion of her as a Weeble-in-a-wedding-dress. ‘Scan first, wedding talk after,’ she said sternly. She paused. ‘You know, if Taffy and I did sneak away to Italy, you could always come too?’
‘Oh my darling girl, you’ve rather missed the point by a country mile. If you two skulk off and get married, it seems as though you have something to be ashamed of – although to be fair, that could just be the Fifties in me. Have a celebration! Have the whole bloody town there to witness your union, darling. Bump or no bump. After all, this one’s for ever, right?’
‘Right,’ agreed Holly, wondering why she’d never thought of it quite that way before. Weddings, in her mind, had little to do with celebration, but were inextricably linked with stress and manipulation. Marrying Milo had been no picnic right from the start. Even the very thought—
‘So tell me about all this china then?’ Holly said, by way of distraction from her own tumbling thoughts.
‘Well,’ said Elsie, as ever needing very little encouragement, ‘this dinner service here was actually from my first marriage. Beautiful. Probably quite rare now, to find a complete set. So that might be worth a bob or two? And this one, I never really liked. It’s from my second marriage – awfully vulgar taste that man had. But still, I gather from the chap on the telly just now, it might be a collector’s piece. So that’s nice.’
Holly crouched down in front of the cupboard and picked up a lone cup and saucer in the most delicate design. ‘This is just stunning.’
Elsie blew the air out from her cheeks. ‘And that’s the tragedy of it. My favourite dinner service, and at one time, my favourite husband. But by the time the divorce was finalised, I’m afraid most of it had been collateral damage to our arguments.’
‘You threw plates at each other?’ Holly asked, shocked at the mental image that thought provoked.
‘Plates, bowls, glasses too. It was one of those relationships that proved you can have too much of a good thing – with passions running that high, it was always going to end explosively.’ She reached forward and took the cup and saucer from Holly’s hands, lovingly placing them onto the shelves where she could see them. ‘Such a waste,’ she mused, and Holly was unclear whether she was referring to the relationship or the dinner service.
After Elsie had spent the best part of an hour giving Holly a full guided tour of her china and ceramics collection, they had both relaxed into a routine – Holly would appreciate and marvel at each piece, while Elsie gave her the backstory.
‘By the way,’ Elsie said out of nowhere, pressing a packet of small red stickers into her hand, ‘I was hoping you’d have a little wander around. And if there’s anything you’d like, just stick one of those red dots on it. Or for Taffy. I’ve decided that this auction is the perfect excuse to get my affairs in order.’
‘I couldn’t,’ said Holly, stunned. ‘You’re very generous and thank you, but I just couldn’t. It would feel too—’
‘Greedy? Grasping?’ Elsie offered with a grin.
Holly shook her head. ‘I was going to say maudlin and defeatist.’
‘Bugger that!’ exclaimed Elsie. ‘We all know I’m going to die one day, right? Well I’d rather shuffle off this mortal coil knowing that my favourite, most beloved people had some benefit from the whole enterprise. At least it will stop an unseemly scuffle for all my best bits when I’m gone and all the grasping relatives and tragedy tourists start circling for a handout.’
‘What on earth is a tragedy tourist?’ asked Holly in confusion.
‘Oh, you know,’ said Elsie airily. ‘There’s always a few people you barely know who start circling like vultures when there’s calamity looming. They just love the idea of being in the inner circle of gossip and news.’
‘Seriously though,’ said Holly, trying not to smile at Elsie’s vehemence, ‘what about your children, Elsie? What about Harriet? Has she even been back to see you? Maybe there’s still time to build some bridges.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, darling,’ Elsie replied. ‘You saw how they all came running when I was unwell last year – not a peep! Well, stuff them. I’d rather leave all this to the dogs’ home before they got a dime out of me.’ She held up a hand to signal that Holly’s interjections would be falling on deaf ears.
‘Besides,’ she said, with an enigmatic smile, ‘I’ve had a few thoughts on that front already.’ She leaned back against the kitchen worktop and gazed out at her beloved garden, her expression almost wistful. Holly couldn’t quite believe she would even consider trading this idyllic spot for some pokey apartment at Sarandon Hall, no matter how prestigious, luxurious or sociable it was over there, and was about to say just so—
‘I’m quite serious, you know, Holly,’ Elsie said suddenly, snatching the stickers from her and waving them in the air, making Holly jump. ‘This is what will make me happy. I want you to get the pick of my belongings. I fully intend to flog the rest. I mean, how much stuff do I actually need? Look at me! I’m delightfully petite and decidedly low-maintenance.’ She struck a pose and gave Holly a cheeky smile.
Holly couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped her. ‘Low-maintenance?’
‘Well I am,’ Elsie pouted, her mood that afternoon decidedly mercurial. ‘I mean, I could be stamping my foot and insisting you get married, couldn’t I? After all that planning! But instead, I’m offering you priceless antiques and a chance to help save that little maternity unit in time for your latest arrival.’
She dropped the packet of stickers onto the counter and pulled Holly into an embrace that barely left room for oxygen. ‘You know I only want you to be happy, my darling girl,’ she whispered against her shoulder.
‘I know,’ said Holly gratefully. ‘And we want you to be happy too.’
Elsie turned away, her eyes decidedly moist, and poured out two glasses of pink lemonade, pressing one into Holly’s hand. ‘It’s not quite a toast without proper fizz, but I wanted to mark the occasion somehow.’
She paused and looked at Holly appraisingly, as though weighing up how much she wanted to say. Perching on the kitchen stool beside her, Elsie looked Holly squarely in the eye. ‘I think that I should rather enjoy seeing you settled, Holly. And I don’t just mean married to that gorgeous specimen of a man. I want to go to sleep at night, knowing that you’re content and have a wonderful life ahead of you. And there’s only one way I can do that and still be around to see it happen: I want to leave you this house. And I want you to move in as soon as you’d like.’
‘Oh Elsie,’ breathed Holly in shock, completely blindsided. ‘You’re so generous, and so thoughtful, but I couldn’t possibly—’
‘I thought you might be a little reluctant,’ Elsie continued, as though she hadn’t even spoken, ‘but I drew up the documents as soon as I knew you were expecting. It’s the only logical solution. The house will be yours one way or another. I would just so much rather I was still around to see you and your boys enjoy it. You do so much for other people, my darling, please let me do this for you.’
Holly was unable to formulate a sentence as the magnitude and affection of this gesture overwhelmed her. She simply reached out and clasped Elsie’s hand, her eyes filled with love for this wonderfully feisty, outspoken woman who had influenced her life in so many ways. ‘This is just so very—’
Elsie nodded, seemingly content that her wishes could not be ignored. ‘Take a little time to think it over. But you can’t stop me. The deed is done. All we’re really talking about now is logistics.’ She paused, her face lighting up with a smile, as she sat back, looking incredibly pleased with herself.
‘Elsie, you’re so kind and I can’t even begin to tell you how touched I am. But your family—?’ Holly began, as a whole gamut of emotions overwhelmed her. Even the vague prospect of raising her family in this beautiful house – a house that cried out for the hammering of tiny feet on the stairs and laughter in the garden – was like something from a dream. But, for her, the dream always included Elsie.
Elsie shrugged. ‘Family means different things to different people, Holly. You should know that. And for me, family means the people I love who are there to hold my hand, in good times and in bad.’ She grinned mischievously. ‘So I’m calling dibs.’
Holly laughed, as always amused when Elsie picked up one of the twins’ turns of phrase. ‘Dibs?’ she queried.
‘Yes, dibs,’ replied Elsie with conviction. ‘You’re my family, Holly. More so than Harriet and her grasping ways, more so than my boiled egg of a son who can barely pick up the phone once a year. Dibs. I’m calling it.’
Elsie glanced over at the packet of stickers on the counter, which was still sealed shut. ‘So you see, I wasn’t going quite mad when I suggested you pick out a little furniture, because you’ll need a few pieces to get you started. I dare say Ikea can fill in the gaps for the children.’
‘Well—’ managed Holly, before her eyes widened in mute surprise and her hands flew to her belly. ‘Oh my God, that’s the first time I’ve felt the baby move!’ She caught Elsie’s hand and laid it on her nascent bump. At the second fluttering, she laughed with joy, quickly becoming a sobbing, hiccuping mess.
Elsie shook her head, pleasure at Holly’s exuberant reaction lightening her face, and looked incredibly smug. ‘Well! I think we can all agree that means you’re out-voted, Holly, don’t you? Two to one. The house wins.’