The Cornish Guest House (15 page)

‘I’m so glad. I was worried you weren’t into the idea. To be honest, I thought maybe Luke, er, your husband, had talked you into it and really you hated my guts. I’ll do my very best for you, Mrs Mallon, honest I will. I’ll look after your little boy like he’s my own and work every hour God sends if you want me to.’

Her enthusiasm was infectious and Tabitha smiled again. ‘That won’t be necessary. We’re not slave-drivers, I hope. We’ll draw up a proper contract explaining your pay and working hours. Now, let me show you where everything is before I take you to meet Oscar.’

They strolled around the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers so that Loveday would know where to find the little boy’s plastic cutlery, plates, beakers for his milk and juice and so on. Tabitha explained what he could and couldn’t eat. ‘No sweets. Vegetables with lunch and tea. I want him to get used to a variety of tastes.’

She said that she’d like the girl to take Oscar for a walk every day. ‘Just around the village, though, I don’t want you going far.’

‘I could find out about local toddler groups,’ Loveday suggested, ‘and baby gym, that sort of thing. I can ask Jean. She looks after little children, she knows everything.’

Tabitha frowned, ‘I don’t think—’

But Loveday wasn’t listening. ‘I can’t believe you’re going to pay me to do fun things with him,’ she said, practically twitching with excitement and sounding for all the world as if she’d been offered a free trip to Disneyland.

Next, Tabitha showed her the utility room behind the kitchen, because it would be her job to wash and iron Oscar’s clothes and keep his room tidy. Shelley would be taking care of the guest rooms. The reception rooms were out of bounds, but there was a playroom in the family quarters full of books and toys.

‘He loves picture books,’ Tabitha explained. ‘Please read to him often and don’t let him watch too much TV. Half an hour or so before tea’s fine.’

By the time they went upstairs, Loveday, who’d been so animated earlier, was looking a little dazed, as if she’d never before received so much information all in one go.

‘What time did you say he has his lunch again?’ she asked, frowning. ‘Maybe I should’ve written it down.’

They were at the door to the apartment and Tabitha touched her lightly on the arm. ‘Don’t look so worried, you can’t absorb it all at once. I’ll be here most of the time, remember, and you can ask me anything.’

‘Won’t you want to go out? After you’ve finished the breakfasts, I mean? To meet people for lunch or…’ Loveday scratched her temple, as if racking her brains to try to imagine how rich ladies filled their time ‘…or to have facials or massages or whatever?’

Tabitha shook her head. ‘I’ll have far too much to do here.’

The little boy was already standing in his cot, peering over the wooden bars, when they entered his room, and Tabitha scooped him up and balanced him on a hip. Loveday opened her arms wide but he shook his head and buried his face in his mother’s shoulder.

‘It’s beautiful!’ Loveday sighed, taking the opportunity to gaze around and admire the walls, painted with dark green trees, exotic flowers, brightly coloured parrots and butterflies, like a tropical rainforest. Beneath one tree sat a smiling tiger, and there was a green canopy over the wooden bed, like the roof of a tent. A large, stuffed grey elephant stood in the corner and a monkey was swinging from a rope attached to the sky blue ceiling.

Tabitha looked pleased. ‘It’s the first room we did up here. We wanted it ready for when Oscar arrived, to help him settle in.’

The small boy clung to her while she opened his wardrobe, but he was watching Loveday closely.

‘Trousers, dungarees, shorts, shirts.’ Tabitha riffled through the row of child-sized hangers, groaning with clothes. ‘And there are T-shirts and jumpers in the chest over there.’

Loveday opened a drawer and pulled out a stripy woollen sweater, glanced quickly at the label and put it back carefully. Then she turned to Oscar and smiled.

‘Who’s a handsome, smart boy?’ She tickled him in the ribs and now, at last, the dimples in his cheeks appeared. ‘You and me are going to have a great time, aren’t we? Loveday’s going to find lots of nice things for us to do!’

He jumped down and fetched a toy train to show her, and Tabitha left them for a while when it was clear that he wouldn’t object. When she popped back, Loveday was on her hands and knees, chasing him round the carpet, to squeals of laughter. The bonding experiment seemed to have worked.

‘Come with me,’ Tabitha said when she finally caught the girl’s attention. ‘I need to show you something.’

Loveday took Oscar’s hand as they followed his mother down the corridor and into the rest of the flat, including the playroom, sitting room, Oscar’s bathroom and Tabitha’s own bedroom, which was more like a hotel suite really, with a cream-coloured sofa and armchair at one end and a bathroom to the right.

‘It’s enormous!’ Loveday marvelled, gazing at the queen-size bed and fitted wardrobes, the white walls that perhaps needed another coat or two. ‘What colour is it going to be?’

‘I haven’t decided yet. I need to complete the guest rooms before I can put the final touches to it.’

When at last they’d finished, Tabitha said she wanted Loveday to start as soon as possible and it was arranged that they’d speak again the next day. The whole interview had taken so long that she was late for work and had to run to A Winkle In Time, flinging the door open and practically tripping over Robert in her eagerness to reach the cloakroom.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, noticing his look of disapproval. ‘I didn’t have time to get changed.’ Waiting staff were supposed to wear black and white.

‘Well, at least you’ve got sensible shoes on, and for once you’re not showing half your backside.’

Loveday scowled and might have said something rude back, except that Liz arrived, carrying a big bunch of flowers to go in the stone vase at the end of the bar.

‘You won’t believe what a brilliant time I’ve had!’ Loveday announced, forgetting her annoyance and grabbing Liz by the arm. She scarcely had time to lay down the flowers before she was being pulled into the kitchen to hear the news.

It was hot, steamy and noisy in there, despite the fact that the back door was open, and Jesse was at the hob, stirring a hollandaise sauce to go with one of the starters. His handsome face lit up when he saw his girlfriend burst in, dragging a startled-looking Liz.

‘Hey, babe! How did it go?’

The other boys stopped what they were doing and Alex put his hands on his hips. Meanwhile, Liz, who didn’t think that she’d ever seen Loveday so animated, hung back a little to allow her to bask in her moment of glory.

‘The little boy’s gorgeous and his mum seems really nice. And the house is amazing. You should see his bedroom, and Mrs Mallon’s. And Oscar’s got loads of clothes, all designer ones.’

She was talking so fast that it was hard to keep up.

‘And Mrs Mallon – she says to call her Tabitha – she wants me to take Oscar out. And when he’s having a nap I can do stuff for the guest house. She says the job can be what I make it, they’re going to need lots of help.’

She paused for a moment to catch her breath before launching off again. ‘I’ll be like her right-hand girl. I can’t wait to start. It’s going to be the best opportunity ever. I can’t believe they’ve picked me!’

‘Oh, my!’ Liz said when Loveday drew to a halt at last, and Jesse left off stirring and gave his girlfriend a hug.

‘What’s she like, then, Tabitha?’ asked Alex, running a hand through his quiff. The sleeves of his black and white checked overall were rolled up and he had sweat on his forehead and upper lip. ‘I heard she was a bit la-di-dah.’

Loveday broke away from her boyfriend and shook her head vehemently. ‘Oh, no, she’s really friendly and nice.’

Friendly wasn’t the adjective that Liz would have chosen, but she was relieved that the pair seemed to get on. Perhaps Tabitha preferred young people; she certainly hadn’t taken to Pat – or herself, come to that. She just hoped that Loveday wasn’t being hasty in accepting the job. It could be awkward if it didn’t work out.

When she returned to Bag End, she took off her coat and headed straight upstairs to see Rosie, guessing that she’d be reading. English was one of her favourite subjects and she devoured good books. Liz tiptoed into her daughter’s room, not wishing to interrupt, and was surprised to find the girl sitting on her bed, leaning against the pink pillows, the phone clamped to her ear.

‘Rosie?’

She looked startled when her mother spoke, pressed the hang up button and threw the phone down.

Liz was confused. ‘Who was that?’

But instead of replying, Rosie jumped up, hurried to her desk where an exercise book was open, plonked down and started writing. She didn’t look round once or catch her mother’s eye.

Liz’s heart started to pitter-patter, remembering the bullying her daughter had once suffered at school. ‘Is everything all right?’

Rosie waved her away crossly. ‘I’m busy. Can you go now?’ It was more of a command than a question.

She wasn’t usually rude and Liz might have picked her up on her manners, but instead withdrew, wanting time to think. As she wandered downstairs, she found herself pondering, uneasily, on the fact that she and Rosie had always been so close; they’d told each other everything, which was hardly surprising, given that it had been just the two of them for so long. This strange, secretive behaviour was an entirely new state of affairs.

Although tired, she waited for Robert to return from the restaurant and cornered him in the bathroom while he cleaned his teeth, watching his reflection all the time in the mirror.

‘She looked shocked when I walked in and threw down the phone.’

Robert leaned over and spat into the washbasin before straightening up. ‘Did she?’ He seemed amused. ‘She’s done it to me a couple of times, too.’

Liz was annoyed. Why hadn’t he mentioned it? If Rosie had a problem, she, Liz, needed to know.

‘Do you think I should talk to her? Do you reckon something’s up?’

‘I think it’s called being a teenager,’ Robert replied, turning off the tap and screwing the lid back on the toothpaste. ‘She’s nearly thirteen, remember. She’s not a baby any more. There’ll be all sorts of things she doesn’t want us to know.’

*

New Year came and went, Rosie got through her next scan with flying colours and before long it was the first day of the spring term. Liz had already said goodbye to Robert, who’d gone to the restaurant to take an early delivery, and as Rosie was later than usual she went to find her.

‘You’re wearing make-up!’ she said, as her daughter clomped down the stairs, dragging her bag stuffed with everything that she needed for the day.

‘I’m not!’

Rosie tried to push past her mother but it was too late; Liz had already spotted the smudge of blue eye shadow, the black mascara. It was reasonably well applied, she’d give her that.

‘I thought you weren’t allowed to wear make-up to school.’

‘It’s only a tiny bit,’ Rosie whined. ‘They won’t even notice. All the other girls wear it.’

Liz shrugged. ‘If you get a detention, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘There’s no time to take it off now anyway.’

It was true. Spending extra long getting dressed had worked to her advantage; Liz knew her game.

‘I’ll give you a lift,’ she said. ‘You won’t make it otherwise.’

In truth, Liz would have liked to drive her daughter to school every morning and collect her, too, but she wasn’t allowed. It was quite a hike up the hill to the nearest bus stop and she hated to think of Rosie limping all that distance with her heavy bag, then doing the same trip in reverse at the end of a long day. Since September, however, she’d begged to be allowed to make her own way like the other children and Liz had reluctantly concurred. She recognised that the journey had little to do with getting from A to B, but was rather an opportunity to show independence and socialise. She’d been that age once herself after all.

The Lexus was parked in front of Bag End and they both clambered in. They’d finally said goodbye to their ancient old banger, Eeyore, when Robert had insisted it was dangerous, and they now used his car. It was fairly new and very smart, with all the mod cons including built-in satnav, although that hadn’t worked for a while and they’d been meaning to get it fixed. Even so, Liz still missed Eeyore; she’d had him when she and Rosie had moved from London all those years ago, and they’d been through so much together that they were almost like old friends.

Rosie sat silently beside her mother as they left the village and headed along country roads so narrow in places that there was no room for other cars to pass. Brambly hedges swished against the sides and Liz kept an eye open for dogs, rabbits and wild deer in her path. At one point they had to wait while a farmer drove his herd of lowing cows from one field to another. There was no point getting stressed, it wouldn’t make the cows any faster, so she turned off the ignition and watched as, plump and glossy, their udders swayed rhythmically as they walked, the animals jostling each other in their eagerness to reach pastures new.

‘Poo, they stink,’ Rosie said grumpily as the pungent smell of manure and sweat filled her nostrils, and Liz felt wistful for the times when they used to sing at the tops of their voices when they made the same trip, but she mustn’t complain. Rosie had been born with a sunny nature and it would shine through again, for sure. It wasn’t her fault that her hormones were beginning to ramp up, making her cranky.

As they approached the school gates, Rosie flipped down the sun visor and checked herself in the mirror. It was then that Liz noticed Tim Butler, one of her daughter’s classmates, hanging back by the iron railings while dozens of other pupils in identical blue and grey uniforms streamed past. He hadn’t been at the primary school and Liz didn’t know much about him, except that he had a bad stammer; Rosie had told her. He looked quite cute from a distance, smallish and neat, with short brown hair and symmetrical features.

‘You can leave me here,’ Rosie commanded, beginning to open the car door.