Hubble Bubble (8 page)

‘We heard you shout and … blimey …’ Doll blinked. ‘That was quick. She only wished for him a few minutes ago.’

‘This … this – um – gentleman is looking for next door,’ Mitzi explained. ‘The Bandings, that is, not Flo and Clyde’s.’

‘Really?’ Doll raised her eyebrows. ‘Did something go wrong with the wish, then? What on earth would Lav and Lob do with Heath Led—’

‘I’m so sorry to have disturbed you all,’ he repeated, still smiling across Mitzi’s shoulder towards Doll and Lulu. ‘It may be too late to call on—’ he scrutinised a piece of paper ‘—Lavender and Lobelia at this time of night.’

‘They certainly go to bed quite early,’ Mitzi agreed, forming her words carefully as her lips seemed to have gone numb, ‘but if there’s a light on in their front room you’ll still catch them.’

‘Okay, thanks. I’ll give it a go. My apologies again. Goodnight.’

And with a long last look into the hallway, he disappeared down the dark path in a blur of faded jeans and much-washed black sweater.

Mitzi slowly closed the door. Of course he wasn’t really Heath Ledger. Of course it was just a coincidence. Of course wishes didn’t come true. Did they?

Lu exhaled heavily, rolling her Nefertiti eyes. ‘Wow. Was he
fit
or
what
?’

‘Very hot.’ Doll raised her eyebrows. ‘And Heath Ledger to a T. I reckon Granny Westward knew exactly what she was cooking up.’

Giggling, they all trooped back into the living room.
Richard and Judy were sitting on the table licking the plates clean. Mitzi hoped their wishes didn’t involve the massacre of multitudinous wildlife to be presented to her under the duvet, still kicking, in the early hours.

‘Anyone else want a drink? I think I need one.’ Mitzi pushed her fingers through her hair, humming ‘Waterloo’ along with Abba. ‘And I hope it wasn’t the cooking, but I’m feeling pretty peculiar.’

‘So are we,’ Doll agreed, sitting down heavily and reaching for yet another of Clyde’s bottles. ‘But that may be because of the excitement of having a Heath lookalike on the doorstep rather than anything toxic you added to the pie.’

Lu still had a faraway look. ‘Anyway, you only used herby things, didn’t you? Granted not your usual spice-rack stuff, but nothing that could be classed as a banned substance. And don’t half the royal family indulge in herbal remedies?’

‘That’s a recommendation, is it?’ Doll laughed a little too loudly. ‘Look at what it’s done for them – there’s not a normal one amongst them. Oh, crikey – I feel as high as a kite.’

‘But it’s not a nasty too-much-to-drink feeling, is it?’ Mitzi frowned. ‘It’s sort of fizzy and floaty and rather lovely.’

Sinking into the fun-fur cushions on the sofa, she smiled to herself. Maybe the feeling was exactly what Granny Westward had intended. They’d had to find their own amusements in small villages even a few decades ago. Why wouldn’t people spice things up a bit with one or two readily available hedgerow ingredients in their recipes? And if the rather potent results were then claimed as magical, where was the harm in that? It was only a bit of fun, after all. She really must study the book more closely and see what other entertainment could be found amongst its pages.

‘Oh, my God!’ Mitzi struggled to her feet. ‘I must be mad!’

‘What’s up?’ Lulu and Doll spoke together.

Despite her light-headedness, Mitzi was already at the living-room door. ‘Me – I’m what’s up. I’ve sent that bloke – gorgeous as he was – round to two elderly ladies at this time of night! Me! I’m supposed to be sensible and caring and keep an eye on them – and he could be a mugger or a rapist or a murderer or anything.’

‘Course he couldn’t.’ Lu laughed. ‘He was lovely.’

‘And I’m sure there have been a lot of very handsome serial killers …’ Mitzi tugged at the front door. ‘I won’t be long.’

Because she could no longer feel her feet, the short journey down her own path and up that of the Bandings was a rather odd experience. However, clinging to Lav and Lob’s porch, she leaned on the doorbell.

Eventually, Lavender, wearing a moth-eaten dressing gown and Celtic football socks, pulled the door open and peered across the security chain. ‘Oh, hello, Mitzi. Are you all right? Your hair looks funny and your face is all shiny. You’re not ill, dear, are you? Ah!’ Lavender’s eyes widened pleasurably. ‘You’re letting yourself go, dear, aren’t you? You’ve spent one too many lonely nights with the gin bottle and have reached the cry-for-help stage. We knew it would happen before long. Come along in, dear. Lobelia and I will cheer you up.’

There was a lot of metallic scrabbling and Lavender flung the door open.

Stepping into the hall, which was fractionally colder than the autumnal night outside, Mitzi smiled. ‘Thank you, but really I’m fine. I’m not alone, the girls are with me – we’ve had a lovely evening – but there was a young man at our door just now asking for you, and I thought I ought to come and check if he’d … that is, if you’d let him in. Of course, I know you wouldn’t, but—’

‘Oh, yes we did, dear.’ Lavender nodded happily. ‘He’s upstairs in the bedroom with Lobelia.’

Jesus! Mitzi whimpered. ‘Okay, now don’t panic. You
ring the police and I’ll go up and see what I can do.’

‘Why would we need the police, dear?’ Lavender queried. ‘We haven’t got any more room. And anyway it would only be that rather dim Tom Hodgkin at this time of night – unless of course that nice young sergeant is on duty in which case we could perhaps squeeze them in and—’

‘We’re not inviting them to a damn party, Lav. It doesn’t matter about the numbers. This could be serious. Just ring them and say this man has forced his way into your house and that he’s taken your 82-year-old sister hostage and—’

‘Lobelia is eighty-one and a half,’ Lavender said crossly. ‘And I’m seventy-nine. And she’s hasn’t been taken hostage. Are you quite sure you’re all right, Mitzi?’

‘Lav, look, you really should never, ever let strange people into your home. You know that don’t you?’

‘Yes, dear, of course we do. We’re not senile, you know. But he’s not a stranger. Dr Merrydew sent him. Because of our ad in the surgery. Good heavens Mitzi, surely you remember? We advertised for a lodger, dear. And he’s here. Look …’

Heaving a huge sigh of relief, Mitzi realised that she’d been shaking violently. Her legs were really quite wobbly, so she sank down on the bottom stair, painted 1950s cream with a faded dusty runner in sepulchre brown, as Lav unfolded a piece of paper.

‘There. See? A written recommendation from Dr Merrydew. This young man is newly attached to the hospital at Winterbrook and there’s been an accommodation problem – his digs were double booked – and Dr Merrydew said he should try us. He’s a paraplegic.’ Lavender beamed. ‘And his name’s Shag.’

‘What?’
Mitzi tried to focus on the scribbled writing. ‘No, no – this says he’s a
paramedic.
And his name’s Shay, Lavender. Shay.’

‘Oh,’ Lavender peered at the note. ‘Yes, well, maybe. Dr Merrydew’s writing is practically indecipherable. It’s why everyone has to swap their prescriptions at the
pharmacy. Do you remember when your Lance needed some ointment for his verruca and he got Mrs Elkins’s Arthur’s steroid cream instead? Didn’t we all laugh? I mean, not too bad for your Lance of course, but absolute murder for Mrs Elkins’s Arthur’s haemorrhoids. And do you remember when—’

‘Yes, yes …’ Mitzi pulled herself to her feet. ‘And I can see that everything’s okay, even if it is a bit late for anyone to be looking for lodgings, but—’

Any further assurances were interrupted by Lobelia, beaming almost as widely as Lu had been, and the gorgeous Shay, making their way downstairs.

‘Oh, Mitzi – lovely to see you. Were you feeling suicidal, dear? This is Shay Donovan, our new lodger. Mr Donovan, this is Mitzi Blessing, our next-door neighbour.’

They shook hands rather awkwardly.

‘We’ve already met,’ Mitzi explained to Lobelia. ‘Lav’ll tell you – anyway, I must get back.’

‘Mitzi was worried that it was a bit late to be entertaining gentlemen callers,’ Lavender puffed, bending down to yank her football socks up to her knees. ‘She was worried about us – or so she said. To be honest—’ she fluttered pale eyelashes in Shay’s direction ‘—I think she was lonely. She’s divorced, you know.’

Shay smiled at Mitzi with deep understanding. ‘So are my parents. And you seemed to be having a fine time when I called.’

‘We were,’ Mitzi assured him. ‘I’d cooked a meal for my daughters and—’

Lobelia hooted with laughter. ‘Cooking! You? That’s a turn-up!’

‘Yes, I know – anyway, I was fine – but it just seemed very late for – er – Mr Donovan to be calling and I thought—’

Shay pushed his tousled hair away from his face. It fell back again. ‘There was a mix-up – I was supposed to be sharing a flat in Winterbrook, arrived there tonight to find
people already installed, went back to the hospital to see if there was a temporary B&B in town, and your GP was there in the reception area. We got talking and well, here I am.’

‘So I see,’ Mitzi nodded, feeling mightily relieved. ‘And now I really must go.’

‘And I must feed our paying guest as he was expecting an evening meal at his previous digs,’ Lobelia preened herself, pulling down the remnants of her shrunken cardigan. She beamed at Shay as she trotted towards the kitchen. ‘Of course, supper isn’t included normally, but on your first night we’d like to offer something a bit special. I can do you a nice fish-paste sandwich and a pickled cucumber.’

Mitzi tried not to laugh as Shay attempted to wear an expression of brave enthusiasm as he followed Lobelia.

‘And,’ Lob’s voice echoed from the chill depths of the Bandings’s icebox kitchen, ‘as a welcome to your new home treat I can give you
two
slices of bread with your sandwich.’

‘Bugger,’ Lavender muttered as she opened the front door for Mitzi. ‘Bang goes my bloody breakfast.’

Back in her own house, Mitzi was enveloped by the warmth and comfort and cosiness. Poor, poor Shay.

Doll and Lu were sitting on the hearthrug with Richard and Judy, and they all looked up expectantly. Giving them a quick résumé of why Shay was next door and being aware of Lu’s eyes sparkling, Mitzi held her hands out to the fire. ‘So, that’s the Heath Ledger myth scotched. So much for Granny Westward’s wishes coming true.’

‘Oh, I don’t know—’ Lulu stroked Richard and Judy ‘— I think it’s pretty cool, actually. Not the real thing, but as near as damn it. And you never know – oh, there’s the door again. Maybe he’s come back?’

‘And maybe he hasn’t,’ Doll scrambled to her feet. ‘I’ll go – I need the loo anyway.’

Warm again, Mitzi curled herself into the cushiony sofa and closed her eyes. She still felt rather floaty.

‘Christ!’

Lulu’s shout made her jump. Opening her eyes, she blinked at the doorway. Doll, looking stunned, was standing just in front of Brett, who was hovering in the hallway wearing what appeared to be a black leather catsuit.

‘Brett!’ Mitzi scrambled to her feet. She still felt rather strange. ‘Lovely to see you – um – Doll didn’t say you were coming over.’

Brett smiled, looking very self-conscious. With a jolt, Mitzi realised that the black leather catsuit was actually tight black jeans and a leather jacket. He looked like the Milk Tray Man. Which was very odd as Brett’s non-postman’s-uniform wardrobe had consisted of beige chinos and even beiger polo shirts for as long as she’d known him.

‘No – well, I thought that she may have had a little bit too much to drink to be able to drive, so I walked over so that I could drive her back …’ He frowned. ‘It was really weird, you know. I’d gone to bed, was asleep – and I had this really vivid dream that she needed me. I woke up, and just had to see her. Had to come over and get her …’

‘But you’ve never collected her before, ever,’ Lu sniggered. ‘And why on earth are you wearing those pervy clothes?’

Brett, looking bemused, shook his head. ‘Dunno, really. I haven’t worn these for years, not since I gave up my motorbike – they seemed to fall out of my wardrobe and it was so urgent that I got here I didn’t bother to look for anything else. They seemed to suit my mood …’ He smiled gently at Doll. ‘Anyway, darling, are you ready?’

‘Darling?
Blimey!’ Lu looked at Mitzi. ‘What did she wish for? Impromptu romance … Wow. This is scary stuff …’

‘Shush,’ Mitzi hissed. ‘Whatever the reason, we don’t want to spoil it. Doll love, you’d better get along home now … no, Lu and I will clear up in the morning … Off you pop. Both of you.’

Doll, still looking shell-shocked, allowed a solicitous
Brett to help her on with her coat. The fact that he seemed to want to kiss her all over as he did so made the process a little more awkward than usual. Lulu buried her face in Richard and Judy and giggled.

The goodbyes said, and having waved Doll and Brett off with a warm glow of happiness, Mitzi switched off the lights on the devastation in the kitchen and wandered back into the living room.

‘Two out of three,’ Lu untangled her feet from her long skirts and hauled herself upright. ‘Not bad, Mum. Not bad at all … And are you sure you don’t want to clear this lot up tonight?’

‘Positive. We’ll probably feel a bit more normal in the morning after a night’s sleep. But even I have to admit that Brett’s behaviour isn’t – wasn’t – well, in character.’

‘Poor Doll,’ Lu shuddered, kissing her mother before wobbling across the living room. ‘Thanks to Granny Westward she’ll have to endure a night of passion with Postman Brett. Just think about it – no don’t! I mean, Boring Brett and our Doll all loved-up! Yuk! Just shows – you really should be careful what you wish for … Night then … I’m off to dream blameless dreams about our new next-door neighbour.’

Alone in the firelight, Mitzi changed Abba for the Rolling Stones and trilled along with Mick and the boys generously sharing their ‘19th Nervous Breakdown’. Richard and Judy stretched in front of the fire, and Mitzi joined them on the rug. It had been a wonderful evening, although very, very strange – Shay arriving, and then Brett’s totally uncharacteristic behaviour. And both so soon after they’d made their wishes. It was simply coincidence, of course. Nothing else. Funny though, and maybe, just maybe, there was something in this herbalism.