Page 19 of Annabel and Her Sisters

That was so like my mother. Treasuring vignettes to warm her soul later.

We’d gone pretty much full circle around the park by now, and the immediate fields were proximate: we were approaching the house.

Having parked the dogs in their stable and fed them, we went in through the back door.

Ginnie met us in the kitchen, flustered. She was pocketing her phone.

‘That was Tom. He’s coming back tomorrow, but he’s got Covid.’

‘Well, that’s fine, we’ve all had it. Mum, too, and she’s had all her jabs.’

‘Yes, but he’s been in China.’

‘So?’

Hugo appeared from his office which was just off the kitchen. He took his glasses off. ‘So there’s talk of a new variant. Which is fine for the rest of us– frankly we’ll take our chances– but he’s worried about you, Lea. He rang me earlier.’

‘Oh nonsense!’ she cried. ‘New variant– they’re always talking it up!’

‘Well, I rather agree, but unfortunately he’s told Ed. Who’s told Clarissa.’

Ginnie and I groaned. Tom and his cousin Ed were in the same regiment.

‘Right. So don’t tell me, she thinks we can’t cohabit in this huge house?’ said Mum, uncharacteristically disloyal to Clarissa.

‘Exactly. So I’ve arranged for Tom– or rather he has– to go and stay at the flat for a bit.’

‘What– on his own? What nonsense! He’s only got ten days’ leave!’ My mother was horrified.

‘Yes, but he’s super happy to do that,’ said Lara anxiously, appearing from the sitting room. ‘Honestly, Granny, he’ll see all his London mates, go clubbing– they won’t care– it’s almost better for him like this.’

‘No, no, you haven’t seen him for six months! He’ll want to come home as well as see his mates. I won’t hear of it. I’ll just go to Clarissa a bit early, that’s all.’

‘Two months early,’ I objected. ‘What does Clarissa say?’

‘She thinks the same.’

‘Exactly,’ my mother said decisively. ‘That’s the end of it. I never want to be any trouble, do you hear?’

It was said very firmly, with that gimlet look in her eye which she could deploy when she felt like it and which meant business. We nodded meekly. Bloody Clarissa. Interfering as usual. But it was agreed that Tom would come home.

That evening at supper I quietly told Ted, who was beside me. ‘She’s infuriating, Ted, she gets worse and worse.’

‘People do,’ he said wearily. ‘My sister-in-law is the same. Can’t stop bossing me about– never could– but now it’s reached gargantuan proportions. Wants to know if I’m eating properly.’

I laughed, but this was not so strange. When Ted had arrived in his red trousers– oh yes, one of those– they were about five sizes smaller. I’d gasped, but everyone else had laughed at my reaction.

‘What’s happened?’ I looked at his face, shocked. Quite gaunt: he must have lost pounds. Stones.

‘Five,’ he told me proudly. ‘Doctor said I’d need new knees if I didn’t.’

‘You’re kidding.’

He was, a bit. It wasn’t his knees, apparently; he told me quietly at supper that he’d had a heart problem.

‘Attack?’ I asked nervously.

‘Not sure. I find knees works best in company. Gets more of a laugh. I’m going for a few more tests. Mum’s the word, eh?’

‘Yes, of course. So, what– you might need a stent, or something?’

‘Ghastly, isn’t it, how we suddenly know the terminology? But no, a valve. From a pig,’ he told me proudly. ‘Rather appropriate, I thought. Even though my porky days are over. Sister-in-law Liz, incidentally, has one from a cow. Even more appropriate.’ He raised his eyebrows meaningfully at me.

I giggled. ‘You’ve made that up.’

‘Maybe. Not the pig bit, though, that’s true. Anyway, it’s jolly exciting being thin– or thinner.’ He grinned. ‘I’ve even been on a blind date.’

‘Stop it!’ I sat back, thrilled. He made a wry face. ‘Lucy made me.’ Lucy was his daughter. ‘One of those, you know, flick this way, flick that way…’

‘Apps!’ I was gripped. ‘Ted! We said we’d never do that. What’s it like?’

‘Horrendous. You sit down in some prohibitively expensive restaurant and know within moments it’s a disaster. You also know that the dyed blonde sitting opposite you was lying through her teeth about being charismatic. Not that she had any. She’d forgotten to put them in.’

‘You’re making that up, too.’

‘Scout’s honour, one was missing– this one,’ he pointed to his upper canine. ‘It didn’t show most of the time, just when she smiled, but I’m afraid I couldn’t get beyond it.’

‘No,’ I breathed, horrified for her. ‘Did you mention it?’

‘What, as in– “next time put your teeth in, love”? Of course not, but she’d have realized when she got home, poor thing.

The thing is, Annie, you’ve then got to sit through two hours of torture when you just want to go home and watch telly– you’re stuck.

She never drew breath, either, which didn’t help, and she obviously spat a bit, but she couldn’t help that.

’ His mouth twitched naughtily and I tried not to smile.

‘Lucy tells me a drink is the way forward, in a wine bar, or a pub. Much shorter. Cheaper, too. She wants me to keep going,’ he said dismally.

‘I can’t do it,’ I said decisively. ‘Mine are keen as well, but that’s put me right off.’

‘Or coffee maybe…’ he mused. ‘I thought I might try that. Or a walk in the park? Shame Covid’s not still with us, perfect excuse. Speaking of which, why was Tom in China? On his own, without his regiment, if Ed wasn’t there?’

I shrugged. ‘Deployed there, I suppose. He was in the jungle recently, he goes all over.’

‘Yes, but China is…’ He stopped. Hugo had caught his eye across the table.

Sensitive, we both suddenly realized. Something sneaky beaky.

Counter-intelligence, aka spying. And don’t tell Ginnie was written all over Hugo’s face.

We gave little nods of acknowledgement. My sister’s worst fear.

The army, realizing Tom was clever, and good at languages– he’d read Italian at Cambridge– had instantly got him to learn Mandarin.

Also Arabic. They’d sent him on courses. And he liaised with the Foreign Office.

Ted cleared his throat. ‘Read any good books lately?’

‘Actually, Ted,’ I ignored his non sequitur, ‘there are a couple of guys I sort of… well, I don’t even know if they like me, but…’

‘Good for you!’ He swivelled in his seat: regarded me admiringly. ‘Go for it, Annie!’

‘You think?’

‘For sure. Just a– you know– minor flirtation. See if you get a reaction.’

I stared at him searchingly. ‘How exactly does one go about that, these days, Ted? A minor flirtation?’

He frowned pensively into space. ‘Ah. Yes. Well, of course you’re asking the wrong person there…’

We fell gloomily to our beef bourguignon, no doubt both realizing we were lost causes.

‘What do they do?’ he asked at length.

I shot a glance in Ginnie’s direction to make sure she couldn’t hear and lowered my voice. ‘One’s a builder and one’s a vicar, but that is a deadly secret.’

I knew he’d keep it. Ted and I often had a collective moan about how we were perfectly happy solo but forced into meeting Liz or Ginnie’s friends, and if I had to go to a publishing event and needed a wing man, I’d ask him, and if he had to take clients to some gala evening– he flogged booze, as he deprecatingly described his successful wine business– he’d ask me.

Sometimes it was the opera– some clients had to be really wined and dined, particularly if they’d come from abroad.

‘You can bring a book,’ he’d say persuasively on the phone to me, knowing I hated opera.

I did, once, with an incredibly dim book light, but a client’s wife had recoiled in horror.

‘So rude!’ she’d gasped, which had made Ted and me giggle.

‘So,’ he said, at length, considering. ‘One could build you a house and one could offer you salvation. I think on balance I’d go for the builder. Not much wrong with your soul, Annie.’

‘Thanks.’ I grinned, just as Ginnie appeared to take our plates. I got up to help her clear.