Page 23 of Lessons in Life

‘Blimey, Mum, you here again? You’ll be hiring a charabanc next and start charging for trips round Hudson House. And why on earth have you brought Fabian?’ Jess, Lisa could see, was flustered as she attempted to extricate herself from the shaky yet surprisingly tenacious grip of ninety-eight-year-old Clive, who was equally determined she should not.

‘Sorry, darling,’ Lisa said, glancing up at Fabian, who was standing quietly at her side. ‘We’re in your way.’

‘It’s fine, Mum.’ Jess managed a smile. ‘Really. Would you like coffee, both of you?’

‘Drunk a gallon already this morning,’ Fabian said cheerfully. ‘We’ve come to see this miniature White House of Lisa’s.’

‘Oh, right. Through the kitchens and the door down to your right. Try not to let too many of the residents see you leave or they’ll be following you out, in various stages of undress, like the Pied Piper.’

‘OK. Lisa?’

Lisa led the way, ridiculously excited at sharing her garden find with someone who appeared to be as interested as herself. She stopped to deadhead a couple of rusting floribunda that should have been done months ago. ‘Do you like gardening, Fabian?’

‘I like the finished product…’ he smiled. ‘…but haven’t a clue how to go about it. Dad’s quite into gardening, but there’s always been someone brought in to do most of the donkey work. And then, living in London, in an apartment, there’s never been any need…’ He broke off. ‘Goodness, is that it?’ Fabian put up a hand against the weak January sun that was reflecting a kaleidoscope of white light on what remained of the previous day’s snowfall. ‘I never expected…’ He moved quickly forwards, Lisa in his wake, until he came to a standstill at the entrance to the white marble building. ‘I see what you mean about the White House. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear “The Stars and Stripes Forever” being played.’

Catching up with him, Lisa put a hand to her chest, breathing heavily. ‘Amazing, isn’t it?’

‘You OK?’ Fabian was concerned. ‘I know you’ve not been well.’

‘Fabian, I’m fine. Just a fifty-four-year-old woman who needs to improve her fitness. Which I fully intend doing with everything else I’ve promised myself I’ll change.’

‘You sure? Is it open?’

‘It was yesterday. Come on.’

Once inside, Fabian moved quickly from room to room. ‘There’s an upstairs as well,’ Fabian called. ‘Marble steps – a bit slippy but totally safe. You stay here if it’s too much.’

‘Fabian, I’m perfectly fine.’

‘There’s a balcony up here,’ he shouted down as Lisa made her way up to him. ‘My goodness, what a view. All the way over to those hills…’

‘Those are not just any hills.’ Lisa laughed, sounding like an M&S advert as she joined him. ‘That’s the backbone of England.’

‘Hell, something like this where I live in London would be worth millions. I mean, absolutely millions. You’d have everybody after it the minute it came up on the market.’

Lisa laughed again. ‘You and Jess could open it as a restaurant. Call it The White House.’

Fabian turned and stared. ‘Oh, my God, Lisa. Yes. Yes… Fucking hell – sorry, Lisa – yes!’ He turned, running down the stairs, taking out his phone, clicking away from every angle.

‘Er, I was only kidding, Fabian.’ Lisa smiled nervously, pulling her scarf around her neck against the cold as she made her way carefully back down, holding the rail.

‘Who does it belong to?’ Fabian demanded. ‘Who owns it? Does the care home own it?’

‘Well, I would imagine so… Where are you going?’

‘To get Jess. Wait there,’ he commanded, before sprinting back across the adjacent orchard, through the vegetable gardens, the formal lawns and the rose garden, until Lisa, scrunching her fingers in their red woollen gloves against the cold, had to stand on tiptoe to see him disappear through the kitchen door back into Hudson House.

‘Bloody hell!’ Lisa sat down on one of the broad window seats, tucking her feet beneath her as she surveyed the inside of this fabulous building once more. ‘If only,’ she muttered out loud, her breath coming out in a mist in front of her as she spoke. ‘Mind you, heating bills would be astronomical.’ She stood, slapping at her shoulders to beat some warmth into her body, imagining an eating place right here in this fabulous summer house, the bar area over to one end, the kitchens over to the other end. Or what about upstairs? The view down over the gardens if one were seated up there would be phenomenal. Like being in an eagle’s eyrie.

‘What? Slow down. Is it Eloise? Oh, hell, she’s OK, isn’t she?’ Jess was tutting loudly, swearing under her breath as she attempted to catch up with Fabian. ‘This is all I bloody need,’ Lisa heard her shout after Fabian as he took her hand, pulling her into the main body of the building. ‘You know, her family saying we’ve not looked after her properly. She’s not… she’s not…?’

‘Jess, what do you think?’ Fabian simply stood, his arms folded, his eyes alive with excitement. He moved to take her hand again, leading her into the centre of the main hall.

‘What do I think about what? Is Eloise OK?’

‘Eloise?’ Fabian was momentarily distracted as Jess’s eyes swept the room.

‘What do you think?’ Fabian repeated. ‘About this place?’

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