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VALÉRIE OPENED THE front door wearing a red dress and a frown. He lowered the bouquet he’d brought in case she thought it was for her.
“Edward Grant, Charles’s friend,” he said. “Charles put me in charge of the house while he was away.”
She stood to one side. “You didn’t do a very good job then. There was no one on guard when I got here.”
He stepped into the hallway. “It was you I was meant to be guarding it against.”
“What did you say your name was?”
“Edward Grant.”
“Apparently, I require no introduction, though.”
“No. I’m here to see the newlyweds.”
“She’s got a visitor. I’ll take you to see Charles, shall I?”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“Champagne for Charlie, flowers for Noonie, am I right?”
“How did you get into the house?” he said.
“It would be a bit of a shame for Charles if I hadn’t. He’d probably have drowned in his own urine by now.”
“I take it he’s ill. How did you say you got into the house?”
“The same way you did. Someone opened the door for me.”
“And who might that have been?”
“Would it surprise you to know it was Charles himself?”
“Charles?”
“Mr Grant, I’ll be absolutely straight with you, because you’re going to find out in a moment, anyway. Charles has Alzheimer’s. He doesn’t recognise me, he doesn’t recognise Susan and he doesn’t recognise his new wife. The chances of him recognising you are therefore negligible. He realised what was happening to him as soon as he got back from Thailand and he seems to have performed something of a volte face as regards Susan and I. We are his closest living relatives, after all: it seems only natural he should want to say goodbye to us, whatever differences we may have had in the past – and I admit, we have had our fair share. Does that satisfy you?”
“Is Thanongsak Chongdee here?”
She started. “Thanongsak Chongdee?”
“That’s his car on the drive. Can I speak with him?”
“Why would you want to?”
“I want to know what his part is in all this. I left him in charge when I went away. Since then he hasn’t contacted me, even to return my calls.”
“That’s between you and him, I’m afraid. You can’t bring that sort of squabble in here. Now, do you want to see Charles or do you want to go?”
“I want to see Charles.”
“Well, make the most of it. This will be your last visit.”
He suddenly became aware that he was being watched. He looked up.
On the staircase, a woman in a blue nightdress. Their eyes locked. Bloody hell, Susan Swinter-Jones. She blushed and ran away up the stairs. He heard a door slam.
“That would be Gollum,” Valérie said.
Susan awoke in bed wearing a coat and her Post Office uniform. She was sweating. She looked at her clock. Too late now to set off for work now. She texted in sick and decided to have another hour’s sleep. She reached for the sleeping tablets and found an empty space. They’d disappeared.
They weren’t in any of her pockets. Nor in the bed or under it. They weren’t in the wardrobe or on the window-sill or in the drawers or in her bag.
Vivienne must have taken them. She remembered thinking she’d commit suicide. Vivienne was trying to protect her. Just like she had when she’d been alive.
Still, it was terrifying having a ghost in the house. Especially since she’d just texted in sick. Knowing Vivienne, she certainly wasn’t happy about that. Which meant she could expect to be punished. She trembled and felt nauseous. She went to the toilet to be sick.
Afterwards, she showered, put on a clean nightie, renewed the points on her nails and returned to her bedroom for a ten minute weep. Then she decided to go downstairs and get something to eat and perhaps wander round the garden in her nightdress for an hour to aggravate Valérie and torment Phillip.
She got halfway down the stairs and heard her mother arguing. Valérie hardly ever raised her voice in an argument and you had to know her to recognise the subtle variation in tone that signalled her displeasure. But she was definitely annoyed now. With ... a man. Phillip? It didn’t sound like Phillip.
She peeked over the edge of the balcony and felt the hinges of her jaw give way .
George!
Or rather, x, since ‘George’ wasn’t his real name.
He was more effeminate-looking than she remembered but it was definitely him. He was annoyed about something. Unlike most people, he didn’t seem intimidated by Valérie. And her tone suggested she thought she was losing the argument, whatever it was about.
Vivienne. It was obvious. Vivienne had taken her sleeping tablets and now she was giving her a second chance with the only decent-y type man she’d ever met, false name notwithstanding. She’d better not mess it up this time.
Suddenly, ‘George’ looked up at her – Vivienne must have told him to – and she felt herself go red. Before she knew it, she was back in her room.
She couldn’t let him escape. What if Valérie threw him out of the house? She opened her door a millimetre and saw him come upstairs, accompanied by a very peeved-looking Valérie. They went into Charles’s room and Valérie said his name. Edward. She grabbed her Filofax and wrote ‘Edward’ under that day’s date.
Valérie emerged alone and went downstairs.
What was going on? Whatever it was, she had to act, double-quick. She opened her door wide so she could hear if Edward left and stop him. She picked out her tallest shoes, her best dress, the stupendous necklace of mixed pearls and shells Vivienne had given her out of nowhere, and a Wonderbra. She brushed and sprayed her hair and applied her make-up with a shaking hand.
Thanongsak Chongdee looked about the same age and build as Edward with grey hair orbiting a bald patch. He had long eyelashes and hazel eyes. He smiled and gave her his bouquet.
“Welcome to England,” he said in Thai.
She perched on the sofa and put the flowers down next to her. “You must be Thanongsak Chongdee. I’m Nongnuch Kitkailart. My friends call me Noonie.”
He sat on an armchair and put the red box on the floor. “You know me already? Has Valérie - ”
“It was Edward who mentioned you. You’re friends, I believe.”
“Edward Grant?”
“Yes.”
“I take it you met Edward while you were in Thailand,” he said tetchily.
“Yes, I haven’t had chance to make many new acquaintances in England yet.”
“No, of course not.”
“I understand You’re a restaurateur.”
“Did he tell you a lot about me?”
“He gave me the impression you were friends.”
“Is he your friend?”
She drew back and said nothing.
“I didn’t mean that to appear presumptuous,” he said. “We haven’t much time. I’m here to tell you I’m your only true friend in this country.”
“Er, what?”
“That’s one reason we’ve got to speak in Thai. Listen, they think I’m their friend - ”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
“Valérie, Phillip and Susan and Appleton. They’re not your friends. Valérie and her partner particularly. I don’t suppose you have much to fear from Susan, she has a mental age of five. But if Valérie gets her way you’ll leave this country a deportee and a pauper.”
Noonie laughed. “I know that already, thank you.”
“How?”
“I worked it out for myself. But even if I hadn’t, Doctor Appleton told me and Valérie herself hinted as much. It seems you’re right. I haven’t any friends here.”
“Like I just said, I’m your friend.”
“That’s very kind, but I can look after myself.”
“Do you want to leave the country a deportee and a pauper?”
“Not particularly. But I’m sorry – forgive me if this sounds rude, but you’re making me feel a little uncomfortable - even if I didn’t, why would you want to help me? We’ve only just met.”
“Because we’re both Thai.”
“You feel a particular loyalty to Thailand, I take it.”
“More than England.”
“Why don’t you go and live there? That’s a genuine question.”
“It’s complicated. I’m trapped here by history. That sounds pretentious, I know, but if you knew my story, you wouldn’t think - ”
“What story?”
“I can’t tell you yet.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m trapped here, just as you are.”
She laughed. “I’m not trapped here, Mr Chongdee. Nothing’s stopping me walking out of the front door and going to the airport. I’ve got friends in Thailand, and here, who would lend me money immediately if I asked for it. I’m not trapped.”
He sighed. “You’re wrong. We’re not trapped by money. We’re trapped by family loyalty, reputation, moral obligation, ourselves.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Just to be friends. I want you to know that when the crisis comes, as it will sooner or later, you can count on me.”
“Really.”
“They think I’m their friend, you see.”
“And you want me to think you’re my friend.”
“I don’t expect you to trust me yet. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
She wondered whether he was sane. She put her head on one side and looked at him as if he were a strange animal.
He picked up the red box and handed it to her. “A token of my regard. You can look through it at your leisure. So far, I’ve only told you things you’ve been told by others. Here’s something you didn’t know. The moment Valérie learned Charles was in Thailand, she hired a Private Detective to report on him. Inside that box is a copy of the report. I’ve translated it into Thai, so no one here will ever know you have it, however careless you might be with it. The original’s back in its proper place now. It’s a measure of how far Valérie trusts me that she has no idea it was ever missing. Happy reading. I’ll come back and see you in a day or so.”
He smiled and left the room. Somewhere in the house a woman screamed.
Ten minutes before, Valérie had let Edward into Charles’s room.
“I think you’ll find all you’re looking for in here, Mr Grant. You can let yourself out when you’ve had enough. As I said, we shan’t be seeing each other again.”
She left him alone with Charles. He crept over to the bed where he presumed Charles was lying, bracing himself for a shock.
The person he found could have passed for a centenarian. Waves of pity and anger swept over him. This was – had been his friend. Now he was lost for ever. The shrunken head, unseeing eyes and drained skin seemed to belong not just to another being but another type of being.
“Charles?”
Charles’s eyes were half-open but he made no response. He gargled and subsided into a doze. Edward sat down on the chair. He was prepared to wait a long time. This was his last time with Charles, unless he was prepared to placate Valérie. And he knew Noonie would have to come up here eventually.
There was a knock at the door. Finally. He went to get it, but to his horror Susan Swinter-Jones walked in. She of the funeral and his nightmares afterwards. Presumably, Valérie had sent her to throw him out. He turned pale. He’d cooperate.
“Hello ... Edward,” she said.
He should pretend to have forgotten her. “Hello, er ...”
“Susan!”
“Susan.”
She wore a pink cocktail dress and court shoes and a long necklace of shells and pearls stopped just above her bosom. She held her hands coquettishly behind her back.
Only a few minutes ago, she’d been on the stairs in her nightie. But she was unbalanced. She’d changed into this. Yes, very like an unbalanced woman.
“You were very nice to me at the funeral,” she said.
“Er, don’t mention it.”
“I waited for you afterwards in the place you said. To go and see the ancient Egyptians.”
He’d already had a confrontation with Valérie. He didn’t want another with Susan. He decided to play along. “Sorry.”
“Did you decide you didn’t want to see me?”
“No, it wasn’t that.”
“Well, what was it?”
“I was ... late.”
“Do you want to see me?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes ...”
She was shaking. “Good, because I’ve got us both tickets to the ballet. I booked them on my mobile. Covent Garden a week on Friday. Do you like the ballet? Of course you do, everyone does. And now we’re going together, which I almost can’t believe because when I woke up this morning I was so depressed I wanted to chop my head off. Suddenly, everything’s going right again, beginning with Vivienne taking my sleeping tablets, because if she hadn’t done that – but let’s not go there. It starts at seven-thirty which means you’ll have to pick me up at six if we’re going by car. But we won’t go by car. We’ll go by train, even though everyone on the train will look daggers at us because that’s not how you’re supposed to look on the train. You’re supposed to wear a T-shirt and trainers and eat a bag of salted peanuts. It’s not like I want to go on the train in an evening gown but I’m willing to make the sacrifice, and do you know why? Because if we go by car, you won’t be able to have a drink and I’d like you to have a drink, because then you’d lighten up and forget about me going ballistic at the funeral. That that must have been off-putting, I know. But I think I deserve another chance. After all, I’m giving you another chance. But let’s not play the blame game, eh? Let’s just say they failed to meet, let them move on. Like Vivienne has. She obviously wants us to have a second chance so I think we’ve got to go with that. She’s the most important person here because she’s the only one who really cares about me. Except you. I know you do. But not like she does. Anyway, if we both follow her lead she can fade into the background and you can take the wheel. Because she wants to go to Heaven but she can’t while she’s still worried about me. So she’s going to train you up to take care of me, that must be her plan, otherwise you wouldn’t have come back. Then she’s going to Heaven. And one day, we’ll both die and we’ll go round to her house hand in hand and she’ll give me back the sleeping tablets and we’ll all have a really big laugh. So about six o’clock, yes?”
Edward opened his mouth three times before any words came out. “I’m sorry, I think I may be busy that day ...”
“But I’ve booked the tickets!”
“It’s just that - ”
“What about another day then?”
“I don’t know ... it’s difficult ...”
Suddenly, she screamed and burst into tears and collapsed. “This can’t be happening! This isn’t how it’s meant to go!”
Someone was running upstairs. The door opened and Noonie came in with a red box. She put it down, looked at Edward then at Susan. She closed the door behind her.
“What’s going on?” she said.
“Susan wants me to go to the ballet with her, a week on Friday.”
Noonie put her arms round Susan and tried to pick her up and comfort her. She turned to Edward. “And – and can’t you?” she said.
“I - ”
“It won’t do any harm, will it?”
“Er, I suppose not.”
“I think you’ll find Edward can go with you, Susan. He says he can.”
Susan gradually stopped crying and stood up. Her make-up was all over her face and on her dress. One of her shoes had fallen off. “So about six then,” she said, still rubbing her eyes.
Edward nodded. “I’m really looking forward to it.”
Charles began to mumble. Noonie put her head close to him. “He’s trying to say something,” she said.
He was shaking with the effort. Edward and Susan strained to hear also. He mumbled, relaxed, and his eyes glazed over.
“Did you catch anything?” Edward said.
“It was something about Vivienne,” Noonie said. “’Vivienne says’ something.”
Susan turned pale. She put both hands over her mouth and left the room. Noonie closed the door after her.
“What was all that about?” she said.
“Charles’s deceased ex-wife has chosen me to look after her granddaughter, apparently.”
“Sorry for forcing your hand. I feel a bit sorry for her and I don’t even know her. You could see the state she was in. She threatened to commit suicide this morning.”
“I just don’t want to build her hopes up, that’s all. God knows, I can’t do anything to help her. Not in the long term.”
“Point taken. Will you be at home tomorrow, seven o’clock?”
“I can be ... ”
“Please do.”
The door opened again. It was Valérie.
“Visiting time’s over now,” she said. “Noonie, you come with me. I’ll show you the grounds and what needs doing. How did you like your visitor, eh? Quite a charmer. I can see you two getting on like a house on fire. And you can see him as often as you like. He’s always welcome here.” She turned to Edward. “Unlike some. Goodbye.”
“I may be more welcome than you think,” Edward said.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m taking your daughter to the ballet a week on Friday. I arranged to pick her up here at six. I hope that’s okay.”
For a moment, Valérie was speechless.
“That’s settled, then,” he said.
He breezed past her, descended the stairs and let himself out of the house as commanded.
