Cinnamon Gardens Page 4

  When her agent had gone, Nell sat on till nearly midnight, sipping a second glass of wine. She couldn’t stop smiling. Fate seemed to be on her side for once. She was moving, leaving this house and its unhappy memories. At last.

  It suddenly occurred to her that her dream had come true, just as the voices had said. What a strange coincidence!

  Then the efficient side of her kicked in and she got out a pad and started making lists. She’d need to give in her notice at work, book her plane ticket to England, start clearing out the house … and get the boys settled in their flat.

  The pencil fell from her hand. Could she do all that in two weeks?

  She most certainly could. She was famous for her efficiency. For her, the title ‘Office Manager’ wasn’t a fancy word for secretary. She managed a staff of five, servicing the administrative needs of four legal partners and their suite of offices. They’d miss her but she wouldn’t miss them.

  She heard Nick arrive home at two o’clock. She was woken at three o’clock by the sound of a taxi pulling up and Steve’s slurred voice talking to the driver. Clearly the need to save money hadn’t stopped the boys from making a night of it and coming home in style.

  She’d been feeling regretful about what she was doing to them, but now she was even more certain that it was necessary. They had to learn to handle themselves and their money if they were to become useful members of society.

  She’d save the news about the sale for the morning, however. They’d be in no state to hear it now.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning Nick got up first, as usual, but not till ten o’clock. Nell stood to one side of the kitchen with her arms folded, not offering to make him a cup of tea.

  After a puzzled glance in her direction, he went to switch on the kettle and get out the instant coffee. ‘How did the house opening go?’

  ‘I’m not giving you any information till Steve gets up.’

  ‘Aw, go on, Ma. Tell me now. I can see you’re full of news.’

  ‘I am, but I’m not repeating myself. I’ll tell both of you at once.’

  He fidgeted around for a few minutes, drained the mug of coffee, then stood up, leaving it on the table.

  ‘Hey! You forgot something.’ She pointed to the mug. For a moment she thought he was going to refuse to clear it away, then he shrugged, rinsed it and put it on the draining board ready for his next cup.

  ‘I’ll go and wake Steve or he’ll stay in bed half the afternoon.’

  She waited and heard shouting, then a few minutes later Steve followed his brother into the kitchen, looking like a sleepwalker. She let him take a few gulps of coffee before she said, ‘Right, then. Sit down and we’ll talk.’

  They both joined her at the breakfast table, Nick looking wary, Steve yawning and bleary-eyed.

  ‘I’ve sold the house.’

  Two mouths fell open, like little birds waiting to be fed.

  ‘Did you hear what I said?’

  Steve’s voice came out croaky. ‘But you can’t have! Dad said it’d take ages.’

  ‘Which just shows what he knows.’

  Nick’s eyes were overbright and he blinked furiously. ‘You really are leaving us and going to the other side of the world, then?’

  ‘Yes. Didn’t you believe me?’

  ‘Dad said you wouldn’t do it.’

  ‘He never did understand me. At the risk of repeating myself, I need to do a few things for myself now you two are off my hands.’

  Nick looked hurt. ‘Well that’s it, then.’

  As one they stood up, both looking angry.

  ‘Don’t go yet, boys! There’s more.’

  They turned back.

  ‘What else?’ Steve snapped.

  ‘We have to be out of this house in two weeks. You’d better take that flat we saw yesterday. I’ll pay for the deposit and the first two weeks, starting straight away, to give you time to shift your things. Anything left here by the time I move out will be sent to the charity shop.’

  Steve glared at her. ‘We can’t do it.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s …’ He waved one hand round vaguely. ‘This is our home. We’ve never lived anywhere else. We can’t just up sticks and leave at the drop of a hat. We aren’t even used to the idea yet.’

  ‘You’ve no choice about leaving. I’ve already signed the contract and that makes it legally binding.’

  Silence, then they pulled out their reserve card. ‘Dad won’t agree to it.’

  ‘Your father came round last night and signed the contract to sell with me. He’s very happy with the offer, believe me.’

  ‘How much did you have to drop the price?’ Steve asked.

  ‘I got ten thousand above the asking price.’

  ‘No way!’

  ‘Would I lie to you about something so important?’ She watched him pull out his mobile phone. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Calling Dad. Checking whether you can do this to us.’

  He put the phone on loudspeaker mode so that his brother could listen, so she heard the conversation as well, smiling grimly as Craig’s voice grew sharper and he too set his sons right about the need for them to move out.

  They sat staring at her afterwards as if she was guilty of ill-treating them.

  ‘You have to grow up and take responsibility for your own lives and money, boys,’ she said gently.

  ‘You mean we have to go and live in a hovel and be short of money?’ Steve said. ‘Well, thanks for nothing, Ma!’

  Nick tugged his sleeve but he shook his brother’s arm off and stormed out of the room.

  She looked at Nick.

  He shrugged and followed his brother out.

  She felt guilty, but she knew she had nothing to be guilty about. This was the right thing to do.

  Their reactions hurt, though. A lot.

  Her phone rang and she glanced at it. Craig.

  ‘Can you talk?’ he asked. ‘Or are they still there?’

  ‘They’re in their rooms, so I can talk.’

  ‘They’re taking it badly.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Um … what are you going to do about them? Where are they going to live? I’m not having them living with me and Jenny.’

  ‘No. I’ve noticed that. You didn’t even have them to stay with you if you could help it. Well, I’ve found them a flat, so they can go there, but it turns out Steve has debts.’

  ‘Well, I can’t help him. All my money is tied up at the moment.’

  ‘Oh, come off it. You’re about to get half the house sale money.’

  ‘Why can’t you help them, then? You’ll have the other half of it.’

  ‘I am helping them. I’ve paid the first two weeks’ rent and the deposit on the flat for them.’

  ‘Well, you can help them with the debts as well, can’t you, give them hints about shopping and so on?’

  ‘I’ve tried. They walk out. They’re in denial. I’m not doing it all, Craig. Anyway, I shan’t be here. I’m going to England in two weeks’ time, leaving on the day I hand the house over.’

  She hesitated, then added, ‘They’re going to need help, Craig, and maybe they’ll take it better from you, man to man. Heaven knows I’ve tried, but they live like pigs, they refuse to change their sloppy habits and they’ve no clue about managing money.’

  He was silent for a moment or two, then sighed. ‘I don’t know where they get it from. Neither of us was ever extravagant. I hope you’ll grant me that, at least.’

  ‘Yes, I will. You’ve always been good with money.’

  ‘Very well, then. I’ll keep an eye on them after you leave.’

  ‘Thanks, Craig. I’ll let you know the exact settlement date.’ It was as amiable a conversation as they’d had in years.

  She put down the phone and looked round the kitchen. She might as well start clearing the cupboards out. She’d make sure the boys had enough crockery and she’d put a few of her favourite possessions into storage
.

  She heard their voices as she passed Steve’s room, not their usual loud tones but sounding low, almost conspiratorial. Then she heard the sound of the ringtone Nick favoured. That’d be Craig calling him, she guessed. Well, she hoped it was. It was more than time her ex took some responsibility for his sons’ metamorphosis into adults.

  The boys would learn to cope, surely? They weren’t stupid, just … selfish and hedonistic. And young.

  They might be angry now, but they’d come round after a while.

  The sale of the house made her feel as if the heavy load of responsibility she’d carried for years was growing lighter and would soon be lifting off her shoulders.

  Well, more or less. Did you ever stop feeling protective about your children, even after they’d grown up?

  While he was working at his computer, Angus heard his phone ring and cursed under his breath. Should he ignore it? No, better not. It might be someone wanting a small job doing.

  He’d put together a few simple websites for local businesses over the past couple of years, which wasn’t hard to do. He didn’t go out hunting for business, but he got referrals from the satisfied customers and did updates to some of their websites every now and then. It was easy work and made useful chunks of money to spin out his severance pay. The original idea for another app had developed into a suite of related apps, and was coming along nicely.

  The caller was his friend Scott, so he settled down for a chat.

  ‘Have you heard the news, Angus?’

  ‘What news?’

  ‘I thought you wouldn’t have heard about it yet.’ Scott paused for effect.

  ‘Get on with it. I’m busy.’

  ‘You know that huge old house in Peppercorn Street whose owner died last month? The one two houses away from that new street, what’s it called, yes, Sunset Close? Well, the old lady’s son has sold it to Gus Nolan. He didn’t waste any time, did he? Nolan is going to knock it down and extend the over-50s housing development into another little street. Well, he will if he can get the house next to it as well once the new owner shows up.’

  ‘And I should be interested in this why?’

  ‘Aren’t you even vaguely concerned about what’s going on along your street, Angus my lad?’

  ‘Not really. I don’t feel as if I live on the street.’

  ‘Your address is number 1 Peppercorn Street and you walk or drive down it into town regularly. I despair of you sometimes, Angus. You’re becoming a damned hermit. You need to get out and meet people. And talking of meeting people, my main purpose in calling was to check that we’ll be seeing you in the pub tonight.’

  Angus glanced at his computer, sighed and said, ‘I can’t come this week. I’ve got too much on.’

  ‘Either you turn up at the pub or Tom and I will come over to Dennings and drag you to the Red Lion. Don’t think this is an idle threat. Our wives only allow us off the leash one night a week and we can’t party without you.’

  ‘Party! How long is it since any of us have done that?’

  ‘A good many years. That’s what having children does to you. Stops the wildness.’

  Angus smiled. ‘You were never wild, even in your youth, Scott.’

  ‘Listen who’s talking. You were the first to get married. You’d no sooner met Joanna than you were engaged.’

  ‘I knew a good woman when I found one. Only took me two days to fall in love with her.’

  ‘Well, maybe having a quiet drink with the lads is all the partying us men in our fifties are capable of.’

  ‘We’re not fifty yet.’

  ‘We’re nearly there.’

  Angus didn’t like to dwell on how old he was getting. ‘I’ve got a lot of work on and—’

  Scott’s voice softened. ‘You’ll regret missing the weekly get-together if you don’t come tonight, my lad, you know you will. All work and no play …’

  ‘Oh, all right. I suppose someone needs to keep you two in order.’

  After he’d put the phone down, Angus ran his hand through his hair and frowned at his reflection in the mirror across the room. He needed a haircut. Badly.

  He kept meaning to move that damned mirror, which made him look pale and ill, only it’d probably pull some plaster out of the wall if he took it down. The thing must have been up there for a couple of centuries and he wasn’t game to disturb it without expert help.

  He glanced at his reflection again. It still shocked him sometimes not to see dark hair topping his face. It shouldn’t have done. He’d gone completely grey by the time he was forty and now his hair was pure silver at the front. At least he still had hair. His father and grandfather had gone bald by this age, so he was doing better than them.

  The silver hair had diminished his confidence where women were concerned. It shouldn’t have done, but it had. Or maybe he’d never had much confidence. He and Joanna had married young, so he’d never played the field.

  Since he’d lost his wife, he’d dated a few times, but he’d not met anyone who attracted him and he certainly didn’t go round looking for another woman.

  After a year had passed since Joanna’s death, Scott and Tom’s wives had started introducing him to eligible women, one after another – eligible in their eyes, not his. The only thing he’d had in common with them so far had been age. They’d all been in their forties, most of them divorced and angry about it.

  The wives seemed to have run out of single females now, thank goodness, but he’d bet Dawn had nudged her husband into suggesting online dating the other week. Tom would never have suggested that off his own bat.

  Well, Angus drew the line at putting himself up for sale online.

  Oh, hell, where was all this introspection coming from? He turned away from the mirror, did a few stretching exercises and ran up and down on the spot. He didn’t want to damage his body by sitting in one position in front of his computer all day, so he was careful to take regular exercise breaks.

  He walked round the ground floor of the house for good measure, trying not to notice how shabby it was looking: faded wallpaper, dusty old furniture and sagging, threadbare curtains. He wished he had the money to do it up a bit, but he’d never earn enough to bring it back to its glory days, however hard he worked.

  He sat down at his computer again. He couldn’t afford to waste time. His voluntary severance money wouldn’t last for ever and he wasn’t getting any younger.

  But he really did believe he was on to something with the new software programs he was writing. Maybe he could hit the big time with this suite – well, bigger time than his first app, anyway.

  And it was interesting to try. It was Scott’s mother who’d given him the idea. There weren’t a lot of apps catering for this market.

  At teatime Angus strolled down Peppercorn Street towards the town centre to join his friends at the Red Lion pub. As he passed the old houses Scott had mentioned, he slowed down to study them. Edwardian, probably. The first one he came to looked tired and sad, well past its use-by date. The other two were nearly as bad.

  He moved on a few metres to the small group of new-build houses. They were nearly finished and he paused again to study them. The tiny cul-de-sac was called Sunset Close. What a ghastly ageist name! If he ever chose to live in over-50s housing, he’d be leading a campaign for a street name that didn’t signal old and on the way out.

  The houses looked too small for comfort, huddled together in three tight little groups of three, with narrow strips of garden in front. What were they building here? A twenty-first century ghetto? A future slum? Prison cells for oldies? They didn’t look like desirable residences to him.

  He carried on to the pub, pausing for a moment in the doorway, his spirits lifted by its bright, cheerful atmosphere and happy buzz of voices. Suddenly he was glad Scott had insisted on him coming tonight, as he had been on a few occasions before. His family home got too damned quiet sometimes. Perhaps he should sell it. He’d had offers.

  No, he shouldn’t. The Denni
ng family had held on to that house for over two hundred years. The cousin on his mother’s side who’d left it to him had stipulated in the will that he should keep it in the family, if at all possible.

  He hadn’t needed that instruction. He loved the old place, had done since he first visited it as a lad.

  The two weeks till settlement flew by. Nell stopped work immediately, only able to do that because she’d already trained her successor. They still didn’t like it, but too bad.

  There was a lot to clear out and give to her sons or sell before she could leave for England. To her amazement, Craig came round and helped a couple of times, chivvying their sons into working more quickly and paying for the removal of their furniture and other belongings.

  He stood at the door as he said goodbye to her – or was it to the house? She could have sworn there was a look of sadness on his face. But only for a moment.

  ‘Have a good time in England,’ he said. ‘And, um, I wish you well.’

  ‘Yes. Thanks. You too.’ She moved inside, grateful for his help, feeling better about leaving the boys now he was going to keep an eye on them.

  But she hadn’t changed her mind about having nothing more to do with him and she’d refused to give him her address in England, or even the number of her new mobile phone.

  Suddenly, it seemed, the last paper had been signed, the money deposited in the bank and the house handed over to its new owners.

  The finality of it all took Nell’s breath away. She felt exhausted, and no wonder.

  She spent the last night with Robbie and Linda, and the others came round to share a final meal.

  In the early morning Robbie drove her to the airport. ‘Well done for getting those two out, Ma.’

  ‘Your brothers?’

  ‘Yes. Linda and I were discussing it and we think they needed shock treatment to wake them up to reality.’

  ‘Yes. Let’s hope it works. And at last I’m totally disconnected from your father.’

  ‘You’ve never forgiven him, have you?’

  ‘No.’ She made a dismissive gesture with one hand. ‘Let’s not spoil this by talking about him. I don’t know why I even mentioned him.’