Chapter 14
I SPENT THE NEXT few days in my caravan, immersed in a cocoon of camping-gas warmth, swimming in the amniotic fluid of tea laced with rum. The weather had warmed up slightly and turned to sheets of rain that approached from across the Irish Sea in thin bands like interference on TV. I stared out at a sodden world: through smeared and scratched Perspex windows onto a bleary grey watercolour wash of wet dunes and beach and, beyond, the deeper grey of the sea. On the fourth day, in the fading light of late afternoon I saw a figure walking through falling rain which whipped against the window with tiny drumbeats. I watched for a while until I became aware that the figure was moving towards the caravan. The form took more distinct shape and I realised it was Myfanwy.
She came in, wiped her feet on the mat and said, ‘Surprise, surprise!’ She was holding a brown paper bag from the Chinese takeaway and the smell of hot food, sweet and sour and soy sauce and pineapples, filled my nostrils.
‘It’s a bit cold but it won’t take long to warm up.’
‘Shouldn’t you be in the nursing home?’
‘What sort of greeting is that? Aren’t you pleased to see me?’
‘Of course I am, I’m just worried.’
‘I discharged myself.’
I stood behind her and rested my face on the back of her hair, feeling the warmth of her pressed against me.
‘I was listening to them talk about how brave you were, how you risked your life for me and I felt so bad. I thought—’
‘Myfanwy, please don’t say anything about that.’
‘But I—’
‘You don’t have to. I don’t want you to say anything.’
‘OK.’
She turned from the stove and looked up into my face. She put a hand on my cheek.
‘You look a mess.’
‘I am.’
‘Everything smells of rum.’
‘Must be the mince pies – I like them strong.’
She started to grin but stopped halfway as she saw the mirthless look on my face. ‘I heard Calamity left.’
‘Yes, she’s going to try some sort of associate partnership with the Pinkertons.’
‘Why did you let her go?’
‘I couldn’t find a pair of small enough handcuffs.’
‘Louie, don’t!’
‘Because I love her.’
‘But you two were such a great team.’
‘It was good, but nothing good ever lasts.’
‘How can you be so cold about it?’
‘I’m not being cold. Calamity leaving me is a car wreck, but it’s one I knew was coming. Everyone has to leave the nest.’
‘No, they don’t, that’s crap. Kids and stuff, of course, but she was your business partner.’
‘She has to make her own way. I would never stand in her way.’
‘But, Louie—’
‘Look, stop it! Why say all this to me? I’m not the one who left. I’m still in the same old office staring at the same old boring ceiling.’
She kicked a bottle on the floor. ‘This won’t help, you know.’
‘I’m not trying to help. Are you going to stay here?’
‘I thought I would for a couple of days, if that’s all right.’
‘Then what?’
She avoided my eyes and began to stir the food that was heating on the stove.
‘Then what?’
‘I . . . I might go to my auntie.’
‘Which one? The one in Llanrhystud?’
‘The one in Shrewsbury.’
‘Oh. When?
‘After the carol concert.’
‘I thought you couldn’t sing.’
‘I can now. My voice has come back.’
‘That’s good. I told you it would.’
‘Of course, if you say I can’t go—’
‘You know I’d never do that. I just want what’s best for you.’
She nodded sadly, stirred the food. And then brightened. ‘We’ll have our Christmas now. Have you got anything other than rum?’
‘I haven’t even got that. It’s all gone.’
‘I want wine.’
‘I’ll get some.’
‘No—’
‘I’ll drive down to the village and get some.’
‘Don’t be long.’
The rain had gathered strength and I drove with extra care, terrified of ending up in the verge on this night of all nights. The ones you never planned always turn out to be the special ones. Cars overtook and hooted their horns in derision. It’s strange how angry you can get about someone driving slowly. Move over, Granddad. I usually did it myself. When Eeyore was driving I cringed with embarrassment. But tonight I was the slowest of them all.
When I got back she was sitting on the sofa looking glum; someone else was stirring the food. It was Tadpole.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Oh, hi, Louie. You’re back. We were starting to wonder where you’d got to. Sweet and sour, my favourite. Must have known I was coming, huh?’ She started rummaging around in the kitchen looking for something, as if she’d been here many times before. ‘Honestly, Louie, this place is a mess. You need someone to look after you. I guess this will have to do.’ She pulled out a bucket and filled it with water. She put flowers in and arranged them.
‘You’ll be in trouble when the doctor finds out you’re here,’ she said over her shoulder to Myfanwy.
I looked at her sitting on the sofa, her face a picture of desolation.
‘We had a great time the other night, didn’t we, Louie? That’s one of the best dates I’ve ever been on. And I’ve been on a few, I can tell you.’
She took the pan off the stove and started scraping the rice out onto three plates. We both watched with mesmerised helplessness. She brought them over and put them on the table, then fetched cutlery. She sat down and looked at us invitingly, saying ‘Aren’t you going to open the wine?’
I didn’t move.
Tadpole lowered her head and intoned, ‘Oh Lord, all we ask for is a stale crust and a few cobwebs and yet You give us Chinese. Truly we are not worthy of the bounty. Amen.’ She paused as if to give the Lord chance to deny the compliment. He said nothing and Tadpole began eating.
‘What are you doing here?’
I asked. ‘I was in the neighbourhood.’
‘Carrying flowers?’
‘Honestly, Louie! Give a girl a break. You want me to stand on a box and shout that I brought the flowers specially?’
Myfanwy was avoiding my gaze, looking away into the middle distance. Rain pattered on the window and the wind began to pick up, acquiring an eerie quality like a woman softly weeping. I tapped Myfanwy gently with my foot under the table. She looked at me and I made an exaggerated frown at the top of Tadpole’s head. She sniffed and turned away.