The Chrysalid Conspiracy (7 page)

As she sat down, Bridie noticed a large ashtray on the table. “If you want to smoke, Lucy, don’t mind me,” she said. “I like the odd cigar now and then, so Rayn won’t mind either.”

“Oh, thank God,” replied Lucy, and she rummaged in the bag on the side of her chair. Lighting up a cigarette after Bridie’s polite rejection, she sat back. “Can’t smoke in the shop and I was dying for this. Amelia nags me and keeps trying to hide them. But what the hell? I’m half dead already,” she said, looking down at her legs.

Bridie noticed that the cultured voice had slipped a bit. “I can’t imagine what it must be like,” she replied. “I don’t recall the wheelchair. What happened?”

Lucy gave that palms-up shrug. “Luck of the draw,” she replied. “Car accident.”

“Oh,” said Bridie. “When was that?”

“About twelve years ago now,” Lucy answered, not seeming to mind the questions.

“Did you have the shop then?”

“No, I’d finished all my degrees and was married with a little girl, everything was great. Then…Whack! All over.” Lucy didn’t seem bitter in any way, so Bridie decided to press ahead

“Where’s your husband now?”

“He didn’t survive the crash,” said Lucy softly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Lucy. I’m upsetting you. Me and my big mouth…” said Bridie, mortified by her own lack of discretion.

“No. It’s okay, too long ago now. You know, most people avoid the subject, but it’s good to talk about it sometimes. It probably depends on the mood I’m in. But right now, thank you for asking.” Lucy smiled at Bridie in gratitude.

“You actually started this business after all that?” Bridie decided to press on, after all, the last time they’d met it had been through a haze of anaesthetic and sedation.

“Yes. It was amazing. There I was, shattered, literally, when my old university gave me a job doing research. I stuck it for a couple of years, but I couldn’t get into it again. Then the insurance money turned up. It wasn’t a fortune, but it certainly solved some problems.”

“So, what happened then?” prompted Bridie.

“The old guy down the road fixed a problem with my chair and we got on really well. Old George, we call him. He said I must make use of my degrees and suggested buying this place. It was already a flower shop so everything just fell into place. He taught me about the retail trade, how to run a business. But most importantly he helped revive my interest in my bioresearch again. He was invaluable, never stopped working. He made all the display units and even used to take Amelia for walks and picnics. You must meet him. He’s the nicest, kindest man I’ve ever met. Amelia calls him Granddad. He likes that.”

Bridie smiled, but said nothing. She’d met many ‘nicest kindest’ in her time.

“I’m sorry for rambling on like this,” Lucy continued in an effort to change the subject slightly. “You’ve done a great job with Rayn, she’s terrific, and I’m sorry about the circumstances that brought us together originally. I was so grateful you agreed to the process we outlined for you. I only hope it was worth it.”

“Worth it,” exclaimed Bridie, “Apart from the fact that you saved both our lives’ just look at her. She’s never had a day’s illness in her life, the figure of a natural athlete and a mind I was hard pressed to keep up with when I was teaching her. We’re the ones who should be grateful, and that’s without the small but steady income you’re people provided. It kept us just above the poverty level without being noticed. I assume Amelia is..?”

“Oh yes.” Replied Lucy, “Much more than I expected. You know she’s always going to be a little bit ahead of Rayn, we had several years to prepare and it wasn’t a life or death decision. Anyway, more importantly I’m glad Amelia’s found a friend. She’s not popular at school and she doesn’t get much of a social life, what with the shop and me. It’s taken a long time to reach this stage, I do hope it works.”

“Well if it doesn’t, the good Doctor has wasted an awful lot of time and money,” commented Bridie.

“You’re right’,” responded Lucy, “It might be better if we stick to the original plan, and I think it would be best if we maintain the idea we’ve only just met, at least until they’re ready, which won’t be for a couple of years, okay?”

Bridie nodded in agreement.

The two women were interrupted by the crash of the bathroom door being ripped open and shrieks of laughter as the two girls bounded into the living room, faces red from the steam and the heat, it was the first time they had been warm all day. Amelia, very shy about nudity had showered behind the curtain in response to Rayn’s refusal to leave the warm room. When they finally emerged Amelia was in her grubby tracksuit while Rayn sported a huge white fluffy towel.

“Hi Mum,” said Rayn. “This is Amelia, my friend.”

“Hello Mrs Mgee, I hope all this is all right with you,” said Amelia, pleasantly.

Bridie stood up, walked over to Amelia and looked down into her face. Amelia looked terrified. “Let’s get one thing straight from the start,” she said sternly. “My name is Bridie.” She gave Amelia a hug and a smile and she knew she was in the right place. “Come on Rayn,” she said. “I’ve brought you some clean clothes, so get dressed and we can leave these good people in peace.”

“We can’t go, we’re staying to dinner,” answered her daughter.

“What?” Bridie looked at Lucy, who just gave a smile and her familiar open-palmed shrug.

“Amelia and I decided. We’re going to cook,” insisted Rayn.

“After we’ve cleaned the kitchen,” said Amelia, remembering the state it had been in that morning.

“You’re okay,” said Lucy. “Molly got stuck in this afternoon as we weren’t very busy. You may have trouble finding things, though.”

Bridie and Rayn jumped in surprise at the sharp knocking on the shop window.

“Sorry, that’s my physio, Mrs Orugo. Will you let her in please, Amelia?”

“Grab your clothes, you can get changed in my room,” said Amelia. “Up the stairs, left and it’s on your left.”

Mrs Orugo was big. Not fat, just big. With wide muscular shoulders and huge hands. She was from West Africa and really looked the part of a physiotherapist in her dark blue uniform.

“Sorry I’m early, Mrs Jaxson.” She spoke in a voice that left little room for objection. “Its football on telly for him tonight and it’s my turn to cook dinner. Can’t be late home. You know how he likes his football. I do hope it’s not cancelled. That storm is ready for another round tonight.”

“That’s all right, Mrs Orugo. We can make it quick tonight,” said Lucy, hopefully.

“We’ll do it quick and we’ll do it right,” Mrs Orugo said firmly.

“Damn!” Lucy said under her breath as she prepared herself for a rough time and moved off to her room at the other end of the hall. Rayn went upstairs and Amelia dived into the kitchen.

Bridie sat there alone. She was totally bewildered. Having lost control of the situation, she couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong, and why everything was going so well. She sighed, pulled a cigarette from Lucy’s packet, lit it, inhaled deeply and leaned back in her chair.
I’m going to like this
, she thought to herself.
These people are so nice, not at all what I expected. And they’re as crazy as me and Rayn!”

Rayn reappeared in jeans and a T-shirt and went into the kitchen to join Amelia. There was a lot of laughing and giggling, banging of kitchen cabinet doors and the sound of pots and pans. Before long they were all sitting around the dining room table. The transformation had been miraculous. A clean white tablecloth, well-loaded fruit bowl, a jug of iced lemonade and a bottle of inexpensive rosé wine. There was a vast array of condiments and sauces and the whole table was dominated by a beautiful flower display.

Lucy looked pale after her ordeal, but didn’t complain.

After Mrs Orugo had left, muttering about the time, they started into thick slices of honey roast ham, French-fried potatoes, peas and stuffed tomatoes, in which Bridie recognised her daughter’s handiwork. The hot crusty rolls were a perfect complement to the meal.

“I hope this old table can stand all this,” remarked Lucy. “It’s a bit…er…distressed.”

“Distressed mother?” retorted Amelia. “It’s like everything else in this house. It’s not distressed, it’s positively suicidal.”

***

Amelia’s alarm burst into life. She stared at the hideous green display unit. It stared back at her daring her to ignore it and giving her a look of wicked pleasure.
That clock really hates me,
she thought. Then she spoke out loud. “One day you might come to a very bizarre ending, so watch it.”

She lay back and wondered why, at three fifty in the morning, she should wake up feeling almost elated. She thought for a moment and recalled with delight the previous evening. She had enjoyed herself so much. Mrs Mgee – no, Bridie – was fabulous. Her own mother had seemed a bit unsettled and Amelia put it down to her physio session but had made the effort and become so relaxed and chatty that Amelia hardly recognised her. Rayn was a riot and they all seemed to be on the same wave-length.

A car horn sounded outside her window. “Turdles!” she said, leaping out of bed. “Nigel.”

Grabbing her tracksuit and underwear she dressed hurriedly on her way downstairs still giggling at Rayn’s swear word. Turdles. It almost, but not quite, said what you meant.

Amelia’s mother couldn’t tolerate swearing, she considered it the product of a lazy mind, but she’d curled up with laughter when Rayn had come out with it after spilling her drink. Amelia was safe with this one.

In the utility room behind the kitchen, she unlocked the back door and grabbing a bunch of keys from a hook on the wall she dashed out making her way round her mother’s large green-house she made her way through the covered yard area avoiding the stacks of potting compost and clay and ceramic pots of all shapes and sizes. Lucy couldn’t abide plastic pots, ‘
Buy one of my plants and you buy one of my pots
!’ was her battle cry.

Unlocking the side gate, she turned left and ran down the full length of the old coach house driveway. At the bottom, she fumbled with the padlocks and swung the huge, arched wooden gates open and secured them to the walls. Hearing Nigel revving his engine, she fled back up the drive as he backed in. He didn’t waste any time and the drive wasn’t that wide. He pulled up with his back doors level with the side gate.

“Hey there,” his open, handsome smile greeted her. “Did you forget me?” he asked.

“Sorry,” said Amelia. “We had a late night.”

“Is your mum okay?” he asked with concern as he climbed out of the van.

“Yes thanks, Nigel. We had company for dinner, that’s all. It was fun.”

“Anyone I know?” he asked, grinning.

“No, but I’m sure you will in time,” replied Amelia.

Nigel opened the van doors and they began unloading cut flowers laid in plastic bread trays so that they wouldn’t get crushed. Amelia grabbed a couple, dashed into the utility room and put the kettle on. Then she found a frying pan, threw in some bacon and put it on the lit hob. In a few minutes every available space in the two rooms was taken up with potted plants, shrubs, small trees, flowers and spare pots. One familiar box, A4 size, heavy for its size and well packed and sealed with sticky tape Amelia took straight into her mum’s ‘lab’. She knew it contained various natural potions and powders with which she made up her ‘magic’ to enhance the fragrance, colour and shelf life of her products. Those packages arrived and went twice a week with her wholesalers order. Amelia had no idea whether this was legal; but she never asked.

Nigel sipped his coffee while Amelia buttered bread, she handed him a bacon sandwich and watched him eat. He was much taller than she was and with wide athletic shoulders, long muscular arms, a narrow waist and slim hips, he moved like a dancer. His curly, prematurely greying hair framed a face that wouldn’t have been out of place on Mount Olympus.

She’d known him since she was nine, when he’d first arrived in Tetherington. In his late twenties, her mother had felt safe for Amelia to be around him. After all, if George had trusted him enough to give him a room and a job then that was fine with her.

She’d learned of his story one night while talking to Granddad with her mum. He had told them Nigel had been one of the top men in his field, training an elite specialist covert army unit. An accident had put paid to his career and left him with slight brain damage. He was okay but not fit to remain in the army. He was, as Amelia had put it, clumsy with his thinking. Finding it difficult to follow jokes, he could never get the punch line and quick retorts, and one-liners confused him.

Amelia thought of him as a big ‘little’ brother, but she never patronised him and they’d got on well from the start. She’d told him about the beating she’d got from the girl who had stolen her pencil case. Since then he’d been teaching her physical fitness, athletics, self-defence and boxing. They’d fixed the old coach house stables up into a mini gym and, although Amelia hadn’t had the occasion to defend herself since, her confidence and self-assurance had given her control of her life.

“So, what’s the rush this morning?” Amelia asked.

“Oh,” he said, “G-Dad got a late phone call from Tetherington Hall last night.” He took the sandwich Amelia offered him and carried on between mouthfuls. “One of their trees came down and smashed a few panes in their greenhouse.”

“And that’s an emergency?” queried Amelia.

“That’s what I thought,” he said. “But Amelia, you’ve never seen anything like this place. The greenhouse is huge; much bigger than a football pitch. It’s stacked full with electronic gear, you know, monitors and things, honestly. It’s got about eight sides to it and they say it’s temperature-controlled. G-Dad had to do a bodge job and he’s back today to do it proper. I think it’s all double or treble glazed so he’s got quite a job on there.”

“That all seems very strange Nigel,” answered Amelia. “Anyway, if it brings work your way it can’t be a bad thing.”

“Huh.” exclaimed Nigel. “Not when they drag you out in the middle of the night in a storm it isn’t. And now I’ve got to spend the rest of the day cutting back over-hanging branches. At least the storms let up.” He took another sandwich, sipped his coffee and continued.