Part 37 (1/2)
part four.
chapter forty-five.
G ran? Granny? Are you there? Can I come in?”
Laura shuffled impatiently in the drafty hallway of Crecy Court and checked her watch: about an hour until the train for King's Lynn left. She knew her grandmother was in; she'd seen Cedric on his way out and he'd told her she was.
”Gran?”
Eventually, she heard sounds from inside the flat, creaking on the parquet floor. ”Granny,” she said again. ”It's me, Laura.”
The door opened about a foot. Mary's face appeared round it. ”Oh,” she said. ”It's you.”
”Gran, hi. I just came to give you the necklace back.”
”Come in, come in,” said her grandmother, opening the door a little wider. Laura looked at her curiously as she went in. She was as immaculately dressed as ever, with a large, sparkling paste brooch on her white s.h.i.+rt. But she looked tired, very tired. Her eyes, usually alive and sparkling, were devoid of emotion. She nodded at Laura, motioned her to sit down.
”I'm sorry I've had it so long-” Laura began.
”It's fine, darling,” Mary said. ”Fine.” She walked over to the window and looked out at the sky, darkening in the late afternoon.
The general view amongst the family was that Mary had ”gone downhill,” as Aunt Annabel so annoyingly put it, in the last couple of weeks. Something was worrying her, and the result was as if her brain were short-circuiting. She worried endlessly, didn't know people sometimes when they came to see her. She didn't want to see people when they arrived, and asked them constantly when they were going. Annabel in particular seemed to incur her ire more than others. Mary could barely stand the sight of her, and Annabel, along with Lulu and Fran, had been ejected from Crecy Court by Mary and Jasper and made to wait outside on the pavement for Robert to come and pick them up. (Laura and Simon couldn't help smirking a little when they heard that.) But Laura thought her grandmother looked okay. She wasn't acting bewildered, or wearing slippers to go to the shops, or shuffling round in her nightie at four-thirty in the afternoon. She just looked tired and not particularly happy, staring out the window, not really looking at anything.
Laura said, ”I can't stay long, Gran. Sorry. I thought I should let you have it back, though.” She took the necklace out of her pocket, feeling the cold stones cl.u.s.tered in her hand.
”Thank you, darling,” said Mary, turning away from the window, shaking her head as if coming alive again. ”Very kind of you. Where are you off to?”
”Well,” said Laura. ”Actually, I'm off to Norfolk for the night.”
Mary's eyebrows shot up. ”Ye G.o.ds and little fishes. Well!” She clapped her hands. ”Have a drink.”
”I don't have time.”
”Just a quick one. I have some wine open, as it happens.”
”What a surprise,” said Laura cheekily.
”Don't be rude, young lady.” Mary pointed at the cabinet; Laura got out two gla.s.ses as Mary fetched the bottle from the kitchen. ”So. You're off to Chartley, are you?”
”Yes,” said Laura, leaning forward and hugging her knees. ”Thanks,” she said, taking the gla.s.s Mary had filled.
”Where's your aunt going tonight?” Mary said suddenly.
”Annabel?” Laura replied. ”Good grief, no idea. Why?”
”Nothing. She telephoned me earlier, to tell me some rubbish about some old colleague of Xan's who's been made a commander of the order of the British Empire-as if I care, I'd completely forgotten he even existed, haven't seen him for twenty years. Good grief, she is a dreadful social climber,” Mary said blithely, as if she were saying, ”Good grief, she is wonderful” or ”Good grief, she is the mother of two daughters.” ”Well, anyway, she said she was going to Norfolk tonight. I could have sworn it.”
”Help,” said Laura, laughing.
”Well, exactly,” said Mary. ”Watch out. Dear girl, but she can be so vexing. I'm quite out of patience with her at the moment, you know.”
”Why?” asked Laura, wanting to know.
”Nothing in particular,” said Mary, brus.h.i.+ng her hands together. ”So, tell me. Needham. Vivienne's son. What happened, may I ask?”
”I don't know,” said Laura. ”Actually, I really don't know. I saw him a couple of weeks ago-when I was on that date.”
Mary nodded. ”Hm, yes. The young banker. What was he called?”
”Marcus,” said Laura.
”Yes. What happened with him?”
Laura clapped her hands. ”He got drunk, made a pa.s.s at me and pa.s.sed out. And now he's gone on holiday, and his company's donated a huge sum to the school sponsors.h.i.+p scheme. It's very weird, but I don't care. We've got the money.”
”Oh, well done, you,” said Mary. ”Darling. They should have had you during the Second World War. You're rather like one of those Russian spies who'd get the chaps awfully drunk and then get what they wanted out of them.”
”I hadn't thought of it like that,” said Laura, rather pleased. ”I thought I made a bit of a fool of myself. And him. Poor bloke.”
”Oh, no,” said Mary. ”Marvelous behavior. You used your powers for good. So you haven't thanked him yet, then?”
”No, he's been away,” said Laura. ”Back on Monday. I will then. I'm really going to thank him, too.”
Laura had had a flash of realization about Marcus, since the dinner and in his absence: He'd be perfect for Rachel. She just knew it, and she was going to set them up when he got back. A few weeks ago, organizing a setup would have been anathema to her; now she was excited about it. Rachel hadn't been on a date for ages, and she was so sweet and kind, and just looking for someone who wanted to buy a big house in Balham and fill it with lots of rather stocky, strange children. Enter Marcus. Okay, he was a bit weird; okay, he probably liked being tied up and whipped-Laura's imagination was running on overtime in this department, obviously-but there was something about him, something lovable; and Rachel herself had a really filthy streak and the dirtiest laugh in South London. Laura rubbed her hands together and smiled at the thought of it.
”So tell me...” said Mary, sitting down in her chair. She blinked rather heavily, and took a few shallow breaths.
”Gran? Are you okay?” said Laura.
”I'm old, Laura,” said Mary. ”That's all.” She took a sip of wine. ”That's better.”
Laura frowned at the bottle. ”I'm not sure that's medically approved, you know, Gran.”
”Rubbish,” said Mary. ”I'm strong as an ox. Never felt better.”
She was silent, and Laura was quiet, too. The clock ticked loudly on the wall, and Laura thought about all the times she had sat in this flat with her grandmother, talking about things, anything, life, love, relations.h.i.+ps, work, family. All the important things. The funny thing about Mary was, you could get straight down to it, no meandering around. She could talk to her grandmother about anything that was on her mind, or that involved both of them; and sitting there, taking it all in, she realized how lucky she'd been.
”What time's your train?” said Mary.
”Just under an hour. I had better go, you know.”
”Of course,” said Mary. ”Why are you going?”
Laura was flummoxed by the question. ”What?”
”Why are you going, tell me?” Mary stretched out a hand and looked at her wedding ring.