Judith Wants To Be Your Friend (14 page)

‘Of course. It’s here. Do you want to pass it over to her?’

He takes it off me. He can see it’s a book, as we all can. Joanna opens it and her eyes open in delight.

‘Judith, that is a perfect present for me,’ she says, ‘but how did you know to get this?’

Ah, a sticky moment I hadn’t anticipated. Gaynor misses the connection between the drawer incident and the book of iconic designs of the twentieth century and I feel I have got away with it. ‘I noticed the marketing books on the shelf when I was here babysitting. I thought you must have an interest in it.’

‘You are so clever. That is perfect. Thank you. Here’s mine to you.’ She hands me what is also clearly a book. It is a book about Spain.

‘That’s perfect too, thank you so much,’ I say and actually mean it. So far this is much better than the Christmas charade of pretending you like what people give. ‘The photos are stunning.’

Gaynor tops us up again, and once again urges me to drink up. I’m going to have to find a convenient plant to pour it into if she keeps pressurising me like this. I like a drink as much as the next person, and indeed I have a couple of bottles back at my half-house for later today and for tomorrow. I just don’t like drinking too much with people I don’t know very well. Joanna goes through to the kitchen to check on lunch and Gaynor goes to find another bottle so I look around. The big cheese plant by the window is my only hope. It’s big enough to withstand a couple of glasses in with the Baby Bio so I wander over to the window and surreptitiously pour most of my glass of wine into it. When Gaynor comes back in with the new bottle, she seems pleased that I am joining in and drinking up. She refills my glass.

‘There’s one present left, Judith,’ says Ricky without looking up from the train set which he has laid out right next to the door to the kitchen.

‘Yes, I know.’

‘Who is it for?’

‘Wait and see.’

‘How long do I have to wait?’

‘I don’t know yet.’

Who does know? My mam?’

‘No. Nobody knows yet.’

‘Who will know when it’s time?’

‘I will.’

‘You will, but you don’t know yet?’

‘No. Not yet.’

He gives me one of his funny sideways looks that precede a fit of giggles. I laugh with him. He really is quite a funny little chap.

‘Lunch is nearly ready,’ his mother’s voice floats in from the kitchen.

‘I’ll come and give you a hand,’ says Gaynor and leaves Ricky and me giggling on the floor by the new train.

Lunch is lovely. The avocados and Palma ham that I bought are cool and refreshing and ideal before the full roast turkey meal with all the trimmings. We all eat happily with Gaynor continuing to top up glasses. Joanna doesn’t seem to notice; perhaps she always drinks a lot. I continue to sip and she tops me up with a thimble-f each round while pouring herself a full glass each time. Joanna’s somewhere in between. We decide to have a break before moving on to the sweet, and she allows Ricky to go and play for a while. She potters around the kitchen tidying up ready for the big dish-washing later on.

‘So,’ says Gaynor to me apropos nothing at all, ‘you’re a widow, are you, Judith?’

How does she know my cover story? I can’t remember telling anyone here but I suppose I must have. I have rehearsed it now so I feel quite comfortable talking about the basics then looking a bit sad so people don’t press for more details. ‘Yes,’ I say.

‘How long ago did he die?’

‘It’ll be two years in March,’ I lie easily.

‘How did he die?’

‘Mother! Stop this at once,’ Joanna orders from the kitchen sink.

‘Well?’ She doesn’t give up.

‘A heart attack,’ I sort of sigh. That usually works to stop Anita asking any more.

‘Did you live round here?’

‘No, I’ve only been here since April last year. I travelled around a bit when I left Hexham then didn’t want to go back there to live.’

‘I can understand that,’ Joanna joins in, ‘there must have been so many associations.’

‘Yes, exactly,’ I say.

‘What’s wrong with that? I’m a widow and I still live here.’

‘Well I didn’t want to. I tried but I had to get away.’ I do my sad faraway look. Really, this is becoming intrusive. I glance across to Joanna for support.

‘Everyone’s different, Mam,’ she says. ‘You know that. Let’s leave it for now.’

I smile at her gratefully, and excuse myself to go to the bathroom so that she can give her mother a good telling-off. Ricky hijacks me on the way back so hopefully that is the dead husband conversation finished with. I sit on the floor with him for a while and play with the new train until we hear Joanna call.

‘Anyone ready for pud?’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ shouts Ricky and abandons our game as he runs through to sit down for the sweet. When she sets fire to the Christmas pudding, his eyes grow wide in part-excitement and part-alarm but as soon as the flames go out he claps his hands and demands that she does it again.

‘Oh, no. You’ll have to wait until next Christmas. Now, do you want cream on that or ice cream?’

‘Both,’ he says then realises his mistake as nothing happens. ‘Please,’ he adds.

I rather think that Gaynor is looking the worse for drinking over a bottle of wine. Her face is red and her words are starting to slur. Joanna takes the bottle off the table and won’t give it back when she protests.

‘Later, Mam. We’ll have some coffee then start again after a walk.’

‘So,’ she looks at me again, ‘you used to live in Hexham, did you?’

‘Yes I did.’

‘Do you miss it?’

‘Sometimes, but I’m starting to settle here.’

‘So you work in the cash office at Cost-Save, do you?’

‘Yes, I do.’ God, this is getting tedious.

‘Is that the sort of work you did in Hexham?’

‘Similar.’

‘What then?’

‘Mam,’ Joanna attempts to come to my rescue again, ‘I said stop it now.’

‘Well what did you do? Was it top secret?’

‘No, of course not. I worked in an accountancy practice.’

‘Oh, doing what?’

‘Mother!’ Joanna uses her Sunday voice again.

‘It’s ok,’ I say, ‘all sorts really.’ Well that is true considering I didn’t have any staff for a lot of the time after Kate left. ‘I even did some book keeping.’

‘Have you got family there?’

‘Yes, a mother, a sister and a niece.’

‘Why aren’t you there now then?’

‘Mother, that really is enough. If you can’t stop being so inquisitive, you can go home now.’

I sense a big family argument brewing and about to boil over. God knows I’ve known enough of them with my own family. I thought I was going to avoid it this year. I decide I have given Gaynor more than enough information, pissed old bat that she is. Ricky starts wriggling about in his chair.

‘Did you mention a walk before, Joanna?’ I ask. ‘Maybe we should go now while it’s still light and have coffee when we get back.’

‘Good idea,’ she says. ‘Ricky, there’s a job you can do. Go and get everybody’s coats, please.’

He’s glad of something to do and does as he is told. Gaynor refuses to come with us so Joanna, Ricky and I walk to the small play area and sit on the bench while Ricky wears himself out.

‘Sorry about my mam,’ she says. ‘She’s suspicious of people.’

‘Is that all it is?’ I test the water a bit.

‘Yes, really. I was quite friendly with someone last year and he went away to work. I was upset so now she wants it to be just the three of us for family occasions.’

Right on cue, Ricky falls over and starts sobbing. The excitement of the day has suddenly overwhelmed him. We hold one hand each and swing him home.

‘I think this is time for you to open my last present, Ricky,’ I say as we get into the house.

Joanna looks at me as if to say,
oh no, not more, not right now
.

‘It’ll be fine,’ I say, ‘I’ll read to him until my taxi comes. It won’t be long.’

‘OK, that’ll settle him down, actually. I’ll make us all a coffee.’

Gaynor has gone home leaving a note to say that she feels rough. I should jolly well think she does.

Back at the bijou half-house, I open a bottle of Pinot Grigio, my treat for myself, pour a huge glassful and settle down with my book. I struggle to concentrate, though, and have to keep reading the same pages over and over again. Gaynor is really bothering me. What was all that questioning about? It can’t be just because she saw me looking in the drawer of the dresser.

I pick up the phone to ring Fiona. I do that thing that means the other person can’t find out where you’re calling from and dial her number. It rings and rings, and eventually switches to the answering machine. I hesitate then say, ‘Hi Fi, hi Rosie. It’s me. I’ve just called to say Happy Christmas. I hope you’ve had a good day.’

I imagine them in my mother’s house listening to my voice as I leave the message. I don’t blame them for not picking up. I don’t even want to speak to them; I just wanted to have some contact for a brief moment.

Hexham,December 2008

Monday 1
st
December 2008

Mrs. Henson settled herself in the cafe at Robb’s Department Store and waited for her companion to finish looking at the menu.

‘Tea and scones, I think,’ he said, ‘same for you?’

‘Yes please,’ she replied and waited for him to order their tea then to ask about the purpose of this meeting. He was far too polite to get straight to the point.

‘How is your family, Mrs. Henson? I hear your son runs the business now.’

‘Yes, he’s doing well but I fear his heart isn’t in it. Since his brother decided that his interests lie elsewhere, you know.’

‘Yes. I heard he’d moved to London.’

‘Yes, better all round I think. I don’t think he ever really fitted in Hexham. He is able to lead a much more colourful life away from here.’

He had no idea what she was talking about, so as the waitress brought the tea and scones, he broached the subject of what he was doing here.

‘So, can I help you in some way, Mrs. Henson?’

‘No, young man, it is I who can help you.’

Martin Lloyd was not aware that he needed any help but his upbringing prevented him telling this to a perfectly nice elderly lady. He waited.

‘Your uncle and I were friends for many years.’

‘Yes, you played bridge together, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, and he did some work with my husband many years ago. I would say that I knew him for about fifty years, off and on. It is very sad that he is no longer with us.’

‘Indeed. Yes, you knew him for a long time.’

‘Yes, and I can tell you that he was behaving a little strangely towards the end, and having meetings with his accountant; secret meetings.’

‘He liked to keep his business and financial affairs to himself. None of us knew the extent of his wealth until last week.’

‘I still think you should, um, how can I put this delicately?’

‘Check her out? Judith Dillon? Why?’

‘I can’t put my finger on it, not in any definite way, but she is not the person she was. Confidentially,’ she leaned forward at this point, ‘I have had to chase her for some very basic work for our business. Normally she would have done it in an afternoon, but she was evasive and difficult, and even bordering on rude. I have a bad feeling about her.’

‘Our solicitor is the executor of my Uncle Henry’s will and he has asked for all the paperwork. I’m sure if anything is amiss then he will find it.’

‘I’m sure he will. I am just alerting you to my fears. I shall be taking our business elsewhere.’

‘Really? Are things that bad?’

‘Really! Well, young man, thank you for the tea,’ she said and stood up. Martin Lloyd stood with her and helped her on with her coat, then sat back down to consider what she had said. She may be as mad as his uncle had been but she seemed very sharp, and it took a lot in this town for people to ‘take their business elsewhere’. He decided not to do anything about it other than to be alert.

Tuesday 2
nd
December 2009

‘Miss Dillon, please.’ Mrs. Henson stood at Helen’s desk. ‘I’ll wait.’

Helen disappeared into Judith’s office. Judith was deep in information about The Mental Capacity Act, guardianship and enduring powers of attorney.

‘Who?’

‘Mrs. Henson; from Henson Electrical.’

‘What does she want? Can’t you deal with it?’

‘She won’t talk to me. She won’t even sit down. She says she’s going to stand at my desk until you see her.’

Mrs. Henson marched in.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but I had no intention of standing there for long.’ She sat down on the chair at Judith’s desk and faced her squarely.

Judith nodded at Helen.

‘Would you like some tea or coffee, Mrs. Henson?’

‘No thank you. I won’t be staying long.’ She waited until Helen had left and shut the door before she continued. ‘It is only fair that I tell you that I had tea yesterday afternoon with Henry Lloyd’s nephew, Martin.’

Judith returned Mrs. Henson’s level gaze. ‘Oh how lovely. He is a charming man, just like his uncle, well just like all the family really. How is he?’

‘You are not at all concerned that I spoke to him?’

‘No, of course not. Why would I have any feelings about it at all?’

‘You were Henry’s accountant, were you not?’

‘Yes.’ It was taking all of Judith’s self-control not to tell this old bag that none of this was her business, but she was on a mission to keep clients at the moment rather than lose them. ‘And so he will remain until I hand over his books to his solicitor.’

‘I see. Well, I have told you. I thought it was only fair.’

‘Thank you, Mrs. Henson. Is there anything else I can help you with today?’

‘No thank you. Not today.’ With that she stood up and walked out.

Helen came straight through.

‘Everything alright? What did she want?’

‘I have no idea what she was on about. She told me she had been out for tea yesterday. Thanks for trying to head her off, by the way, but it will take more than that to stop her getting through my door.’

‘I do my best. I try to filter what gets through to you so you can concentrate on the clever stuff.’

‘Oh, great, thanks. Anyway, do you want to come through with the diary and we can sort out what’s happening this week?’

Judith reflected that life had become so much easier since Helen had arrived.

Thursday 4
th
December 2008

Chloe had reluctantly agreed to decorate her shop for Christmas. Louise, as she kept telling her, was the retailer and she knew best. Chloe had, however, insisted on fresh holly and ivy and berries, which meant that it all had to be replaced and refreshed every few days. They were working together snipping and tastefully tying ribbons as they planned their Christmas do.

‘I agree that we should have something like the opening event,’ said Louise, ‘but champagne cocktails aren’t necessary. People will always expect that if you do it twice running.’

‘What then?’

‘Wine and cheese. That will be enough. A little snack and a little drink on people’s way home from work will be perfect. It’s enough to get them here but they won’t stay half the night.’

‘Hm, OK, wine and cheese it is. Are we still on for a week Friday; I haven’t left it too late to invite people, have I?’

‘Not at all. If we do it from four o’clock onwards, people can come here and still go out later.’

‘OK, I’ll finish the invitations and take them round to local businesses personally today. The ones for out of town I’ll post while I’m out so they’ll get them in the morning.’

‘Are you going to invite Judith Dillon?’

‘Of course.’

‘She spooked you at the auction in Newcastle.’

‘She didn’t at all. I spooked myself. It’s you keeping on about her anyway. She’s done nothing, actually, to upset me at all. As I said, I quite like the woman. And I’ve been feeling bad about not seeing her since that day. I will deliver hers first. In fact, I’ll call now to make sure she’ll be in later.’

‘If you must. I still don’t trust her though.’

‘Because of? Town gossip about her family that doesn’t seem to match what happens with her family? What else? Tash says some of the kids at school think she’s weird? She lives on her own and treats herself to a new car?’

‘Well, there was her friend Alison who moved here from London about three years ago. She was an accountant too, in a big practice. There was talk about why she suddenly moved back down south; gave up her job and everything.’

‘Maybe she just didn’t settle here. Hexham is not London by any stretch of the imagination. Maybe it didn’t live up to the rural dream.’

‘OK, OK. La la la. I heard you. You invite her and I will be charming. You can trust
me
.’

After work Judith drove out to Mill View to visit her mother. She felt that, on the whole, the visits did more harm than good. Her mother either didn’t recognise her, or called her Fiona, or moaned about her and Fiona either being there all the time or not visiting at all. On the odd occasions when she did know her, she thought she was going to be taken home. It seemed to annoy Fiona when she went, and she had started saying that she went to see their mother more at Mill View than when she had lived at home. There was no pleasing anyone. If she didn’t go, they’d all complain about that as well. Judith was in a good mood this afternoon following Chloe’s visit so thought she could take on everyone, whatever they threw at her.

Tina asked to see her when she arrived. She wanted to talk about Henry Lloyd. Judith was wary, and thought she was going to ask about the last meeting she’d had with him. It wasn’t that.

‘Your mother keeps asking about Henry,’ she said. ‘I’ve told her that he isn’t coming back but she seems to think he will.’

‘I don’t know why,’ Judith replied, ‘because on the day of the funeral it was her who had told me that he’d died. Actually I didn’t believe her, but she insisted that you had gone to see him off.’

‘Yes, I used that phrase. I think now I should have made it clearer, that it was his funeral, I mean.’

‘Well, she’d known him for a long time. I suppose he was her only real friend here. I know some of the staff have known our family for ages, but Henry was always about town, a member of everything, and a charmer.’

‘Yes, maybe it’s that. Well, if your mum’s a bit unsettled, I think that’s why.’

‘OK, thanks for the warning.’

Judith’s mother was very quiet. Judith broached the subject of the solicitor and the power of attorney, and she simply nodded and said yes, whatever Fiona felt was right.

‘I’m Judith, Mum.’

‘Yes, I know. But I said we will do whatever Fiona feels is right.’

‘Yes, of course, but it would be better if we all agree.’

‘I agree with you, dear.’

‘You agree that we all have to agree, or that you still think I’m Fiona? Oh never mind, I’ll talk to her about it anyway.’

‘I saw Henry the other day. I thought he was dead.’

‘He is dead, Mum. You told me that, remember?’

‘Yes, but I saw him.’

‘Ah, maybe you saw Martin. He’s here visiting and sorting out Henry’s things. You remember Martin, his nephew.’

‘Martin’s only small. This man was grown up, older than you I would say.’

‘He’s grown up now, Mum, and he looks like Henry; tall with white hair. That was Martin.’ She hoped that that would put her mother’s mind at rest and settle her down again. ‘I’ll tell Tina about the mix-up when I go. It’s an easy mistake to make.’

Fiona and Rosie arrived.

‘All the family together; that’s nice isn’t it Granny?’ said Rosie, planting a kiss on her grandmother’s cheek.

‘Fiona, how lovely to see you,’ beamed Granny.

‘I’m Rosie,’ said Rosie, completely at ease with the usual conversation.

‘If you’re me, and Rosie’s me, who does she think I am?’ Fiona muttered to Judith, then as she kissed her mother’s other cheek, ‘Hello Mum, it’s me, Fiona.’

‘Hello Fiona. I am so glad you’re here. Judith’s explained everything to me about Henry so there’s no need to worry.

The three younger women stared at her.

‘It seems that I have been seeing Martin, not a ghost.’

‘Good, just try to remember it, Mum. Do you think you can do that?’

‘Yes of course.’

Sunday 7
th
December 2008

Rosie was laying the table for lunch.

‘Shall I set a place for Auntie Ju, Mum?’

‘Yes but I don’t suppose she’ll stay.’

‘Why is she so, so, so
funny
with us all the time? She’s always been like it. I know she likes us really.’

‘It goes back a long way, back when your granddad was alive. She and Granny fell out and it was never mended properly. You could try asking her about it, but not today please. I can’t stand any arguments today.’

‘Here she is anyway,’ said Rosie, peering out of the window and waving.

Judith arrived with copies of The Mental Capacity Act 2005 and a printout from the Alzheimers website about Enduring and Lasting Power of Attorney. She also had paper to make notes.

‘That all looks very official, Ju. Do you want a drink?’

‘Just coffee please,’ said Judith, ‘I need to be able to concentrate on this.’ She sat at the end of the dining table and distributed papers for each of them to look at.

‘This isn’t a business meeting, Ju.’

‘Yes it is, Fiona. We have to treat it as a serious business decision.’

‘But it’s our mum we’re discussing here.’

‘Oh, don’t start crying, please. It’s better if we keep to the facts and decide what’s best for her objectively; not through your tears and what’s going to make you feel less guilty.’

‘Auntie Ju, don’t be mean to Mum,’ Rosie said, ever the peacemaker.

‘Well, let’s just get on then.’

After sifting through and discussing each document they were in agreement that they would apply for Lasting Power of Attorney in relation to their mother’s Property and Affairs and also her Personal Welfare. They agreed that if possible they would get her agreement but also agreed that it may be difficult to find a day when she had sufficient understanding to join in with a decision. The difficulty came when discussing who would hold the power.

‘I’m the eldest,’ said Judith, ‘and I am an accountant so it would seem obvious that I am the best person to do it.’

‘I’ve lived with her for the last few years, and looked after her,’ countered Fiona, ‘so I know what is best for her welfare.’

‘You can do it jointly,’ said Rosie who was reading on, ‘so I suggest you do that.’

‘We’ll just argue over every decision if we do that,’ said Judith.

‘You’ll walk all over us if it’s just you,’ countered Fiona.