When You Walked Back Into My Life (15 page)

Reverend Jackson cocked his head to one side and looked at her as if she was pulling his leg.

‘To Christ Church?’

‘Umm, the one at the end of Victoria Road? Yes, the other nurse brings her.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen her at Sunday service since the spring,’ he said. ‘You haven’t been to see us, have you, my dear?’ he asked Dorothea directly.

The old lady shook her head. ‘Not recently … I … don’t think so.’ She paused. ‘I would like to come.’

He looked at Flora and raised his eyebrows.

‘So she wasn’t at church last Sunday?’

He shook his head, obviously not sure what the problem was.

‘Anyway, must get on. Let me know if she’d like a visit.’

‘Thanks … yes, I will.’

She watched as he strode purposefully off down the street, leaving her puzzled – and worried – by what she’d heard. What was Pia up to?

‘I … he’s very charming,’ Dorothea was saying.

*

Flora heard Rene sigh on the other end of the phone. ‘But why would Pia lie?’

‘I can’t imagine. As Keith Godly said, there’s no pressure to take her to church. But she obviously takes her
somewhere
, so why not to church? And if not, why lie?’

‘Maybe she wants Brownie points for being a caring person.’

‘That’s what she’s employed to be. There’s no bonus incentive.’

‘Could the reverend have missed her? It’s a popular church by all accounts.’

‘I don’t see how. He stands by the door when you go out. And anyway, she’s in a wheelchair.’

‘I’ll have to talk to her.’ Rene paused. ‘Would you be able to be there? I’d like her to hear what the vicar said from the horse’s mouth – if you’ll excuse the expression. I don’t want to leave her with any wriggle room.’

Flora would rather Rene dealt with it alone. She knew it was cowardly of her, but, as a fellow nurse, she didn’t feel it was up to her to be part of the inquisition.

‘Alright, if you think that’s best,’ she told Rene reluctantly. ‘I suppose no real harm’s been done. I mean Pia’s told a stupid lie, which isn’t great, but Dorothea hasn’t been harmed really, has she? Perhaps Pia just wanted to be seen to be doing her best, worried about her job or something.’

*

Pia arrived at one. Flora had made sure the old lady was safely tucked up for her nap before either Rene or the other nurse arrived.

She looked worried. ‘I think Miss Rene is angry with me?’

‘Better wait till she gets here,’ Flora said. ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’

Pia shook her head. She was dressed in jeans and a red wool jacket, a small, neat middle-aged Asian woman who didn’t look as if she had a mean bone in her body.

Rene bustled in, her expression set and determined. They sat in the sitting room, the door firmly shut.

‘Now,’ Rene clasped her hands together. ‘Pia …’

The nurse looked anxiously between Rene and Flora.

‘It’s about church.’

Flora watched Pia’s face, but all she saw was bewilderment.

‘Church?’

‘Yes. You say in the report that you take Dorothea to church every Sunday. She says you don’t …’

‘She forget …’ Pia interrupted, casting a pleading glance at Flora.

‘You say that, but Flora here bumped into Reverend Jackson this morning. He said he hadn’t seen Dorothea since the spring.’

‘Reverend Jackson?’ Pia looked puzzled again. ‘Who is he?’

Rene sighed impatiently. ‘The vicar of Dorothea’s church? The man who takes the service?’

‘Oh … the priest. Yes, he there, he very friendly to my lady.’

A thought suddenly came to Flora. ‘Pia, you go to the
church at the end of Victoria Road, don’t you? Christ Church?’

Pia shook her head vehemently. ‘No, I not go to that one. The path to the door, it no good. The wheelchair get stuck. I take her to St Stephen … near the bank.’ She paused. ‘I am in trouble? You no like me take her there? Is no Catholic, the church.’

Rene let out a long breath. ‘No, no that’s fine. It’s not her church, but if she enjoys it …’

Pia was still looking worried; she clearly didn’t understand what the problem was.

‘I am very careful with Miss Travis. I not take her if she no want to go.’

‘No, I’m sure,’ Rene said. ‘Well, that’s it. That’s all I wanted to ask you.’

Pia looked at her hard, light suddenly dawning. ‘You think I lie? You think I say I take Miss Travis to church and I no do it?’

‘You can see how it looked, Pia,’ Flora said. ‘Dorothea said she hadn’t been, and the vicar the same, but you were saying the exact opposite.’

Pia’s eyes filled with tears, which she hastily wiped away. ‘I am a very honest person. I no lie, never.’

‘No, no, I’m sure you don’t.’ Rene was flustered. ‘But I
have to check these things. We’re dealing with a very vulnerable patient, as I’m sure you understand.’

Pia didn’t look as if she understood at all. ‘You ask anyone. I tell truth always.’ Her voice was thick with indignation.

‘I’m sorry, Pia. I know it’s never nice being accused of something you haven’t done. But my job is to protect Dorothea.’

Pia sniffed. ‘I never do anything to hurt Miss Travis. I love my lady.’

Flora thought ‘love’ was a step too far, but perhaps Pia’s language problem made more of the word than she meant.

Rene got up. ‘Well, anyway. Apologies. I’m really sorry I doubted you.’

The Filipina nurse got up too, still looking injured.

Understandable, thought Flora. I’d be mortified to be accused of lying. Whatever her mother’s shortcomings in the scrambled egg department, Linda had been an obsessively honest person.

‘Even a small lie makes you a dishonest person,’ she told them over and over again throughout their childhood.

After the door had shut behind Pia, Rene and Flora looked at each other.

‘Stupid. I should have thought of that … Pia taking her to a different church,’ Flora berated herself.

‘So should I. But don’t forget, Dorothea was still insisting she hadn’t gone at all.’

‘Maybe she did say she hadn’t gone to
her own
church …’ Flora thought back.

Rene let out a long sigh. ‘Who knows? I feel terrible now, accusing the poor woman of lying when all she was doing was finding a church that was easy to get into.’ She paused and gave a wry smile. ‘Although I think St Stephen’s is pretty high. Not sure Dorothea would approve.’

‘High?’

‘High Anglican … whiff of the Pope’s knickers, incense, mass, that sort of thing. Probably why Pia chose it.’

‘Better not tell the reverend!’

‘Quite. And I think we should all drop this suspecting Pia business. We’ve been a bit carried away there and got the wrong end of the stick.’

12 October

‘Bel, Bel!’ Flora saw her niece on the corner, just about to cross the road, as she was coming back from work on Friday night.

Bel turned, and seeing Flora hurrying towards her, waved and smiled.

‘Hi, hi darling,’ Flora gave her a hug. ‘Off out on the razz?’

Bel laughed. ‘Me? Hardly. I’m going round to Holly’s for a pizza.’

Flora bit her lip. ‘Umm … I was hoping you’d come down for supper one night soon? Haven’t seen you properly in a while … without the arguing thing.’

‘Yeah, well, it’s been a bit challenging at home. But I reckon Mum’s going to have to accept the inevitable.’

They stood in silence for a moment, the usual easy banter between them suddenly constrained.

‘Look, Bel. I hate what’s happening with us all over the Fin thing. It’s my fault. I’m foisting someone on the family who you all distrust, and for perfectly good reasons. But I don’t do it lightly.’

Bel said nothing, just looked down, fiddling with the strap on her leather bag.

‘All I’m asking is that you give him a chance, let him earn your respect … at least let him try.’

Her niece looked at her hard, a small frown on her forehead. ‘Do you really, really love him, Flora? Like, can’t live without him sort of love?’

Flora smiled. ‘Yes. I do.’

‘And he feels the same?’

‘He says so.’

Bel sighed. ‘OK. Well, I guess that’s good enough for me.’ She paused, pulled a face. ‘But he’d better not fuck you around.’

‘I’m with you on that.’

Bel suddenly threw her arms around Flora and hugged her tight.

‘Love you,’ she said and immediately looked embarrassed. ‘Better get going. Holly’ll have eaten all my American Hot.’

‘Love you too,’ Flora said. ‘Supper next week?’

Bel nodded, and waved as she ran across the road.

*

‘So what do you think?’

Fin and Flora were walking in Holland Park. It was a soft, misty autumn Sunday, the air still chilly so early in the morning, but all around them, lining the wide avenues of the park, was the breathtaking landscape of foliage turning to rich golds, reds and bronze.

‘About what?’ she asked, as they scuffed slowly through the fallen leaves, their arms linked. Fin’s leg had ached all night and he hoped gentle exercise might help.

‘About us.’

Flora glanced sideways at him, saw his questioning smile.

‘In what respect?’

‘Well … us. You and me.’

Flora couldn’t answer. Thoughts tumbled around her brain: too soon; living together; Prue; Inverness; trust; babies. Because she wasn’t yet forty-two there was still an outside chance that she could have a child, if she was very lucky – if they were lucky. Although she hardly dared bring the subject up: the last time she did was ten days before Fin disappeared. At the time, she was pretty sure – when she finally worked out that he’d made the choice to go – that their decision to start a family must have been the catalyst.

As she’d approached her thirty-eighth birthday, she had sat him down one evening.

‘I think it’s time we started trying for a baby,’ she’d said.

‘Now?’ He’d seemed shocked.

‘Well, yes. We need to get on with it, just in case there are problems conceiving at my age.’

‘OK, but …’ His expression was suddenly wary. ‘I mean, with me travelling so much … is it a good idea? You’d be alone a lot, with the baby.’

‘You do want children, don’t you? You said you did.’

‘I do … of course I do … but I’m just thinking of you.’

Flora thought this unlikely, as he wouldn’t even look at her.

‘If you don’t want kids, you should say so now,’ she said, trying to keep her tone light, but she didn’t know what she would do if he said no. He got up and began pacing about the room that served as a kitchen-sitting room in their Brighton house, and opened out onto a tiny paved patio.

‘Fin?’

Still pacing about, he had paused by the sink, leaned back against it, and faced Flora.

‘Yeah … of course I want children, you know I do, Flo.’

His reply was completely unconvincing, despite the fact that on a number of occasions they had discussed having a family. But it had always been at some nebulous point in
the future, never pinned down in the here and now. She got up too, went and stood in front of him and took his hands in hers.

Looking directly at him, Flora had said, ‘You have to be honest, Fin. If you aren’t, you’ll get landed with a baby you don’t want.’

At that, he’d seemed to wake up, his gaze suddenly focused on her, and a slow smile crept around his light eyes.

‘Of course I want a baby … your baby, Flo … our baby. Of course I do. Just a bit scary for a man like me.’

And that time she’d believed him.

Now, here they were, three years on, and Fin was saying, ‘I know, I know. We’ve got to Take It Slowly,’ laying heavy emphasis on the words. He threw his arms up in the air. ‘But what does “taking it slowly” mean exactly? I don’t really get it. We love each other. We’ve lived together for years, so that’s no biggie.’

‘We need to work out whether this is what we really want.’

‘Yes, but how can we do that if we don’t get on with it and see? What other way is there?’

Flora saw his point. ‘But there are things, practical things, that we need to work out.’

He shook his head. ‘All that stuff’s not important. What matters is that we’re committed to each other.’ He stopped
and pulled Flora round to face him, the expression in his grey eyes spirited and passionate.

‘You are, aren’t you … committed to me?’

As she gazed back, she knew that what Fin had said about Bel went for him too: everything was black or white. He was here now – committed, passionate, in love, the complete package – or he was gone, cut off, alone, doing his own thing. He didn’t do balance, only extremes. This was what she feared most about him, and what she found most appealing.

Her hesitation triggered doubt in his eyes.

‘Flo?’

She took a deep breath. ‘Yes, Fin, I am. I am committed to you.’

He drew her into a close embrace, breathing fiercely into her hair the words: ‘I love you love you love you, Flora Bancroft.’

*

‘How’s it going with Paul?’ Flora asked, when they were settled in a café after their walk.

He pulled a face. ‘Not great.’

‘But he’s not chucking you out?’

He looked peeved. ‘He hasn’t said as much, but the writing’s on the wall. Problem is, I can survive, just, on the rent from the Fort William flat, but I certainly can’t afford my
own place, not at London prices. And I need to be here, just for another couple of months until the leg’s sorted.’ He tapped the table nervously with the fingers of his right hand, glanced up at her. ‘So I was thinking, since you mention it … if you’re OK with the idea, maybe I could move in with you … just temporarily, while we see how things go?’

She didn’t have time to reply before he added, ‘Paul’s come to the end of his tether, keeping me and Jenna apart.’

‘You fight?’

Fin looked sheepish. ‘Not fight, exactly. More snipe. I know it’s childish, but she takes every opportunity to wind me up.’

‘Like how?’

‘Oh, you know. Waving my dirty mug at me and raising her prim little eyebrows. Sulking if I’m in at the weekend. Saying things like, “Oh, how strange, I could have sworn I bought some milk yesterday.” All sarky because I finished the bottle before she got out of bed.’