Page 45 of Lessons in Life

‘Come on, Eloise.’ Lisa smiled, offering a hand. ‘Are you hungry?’

The older woman pulled a face. ‘Not overly. Goodness, as a girl I was always hungry. Those potted-meat sandwiches! Potted dog, the girls used to call it…’

‘Your girls?’

‘Mygirls? No, no.’ Eloise was irritable now. ‘Janice and Kath and Gail… The girls… What was she called, the little dark-haired one? Her fringe was right over her eyes…’ She laughed girlishly herself. ‘I did buy some potted meat once, you know. Beef spread, they call it now. In Waitrose. Of course, that man turned his nose up, actually sneered when he saw it in the fridge.’

‘That man?’ Lisa and Jess took an arm each, taking Eloise down the less muddy route back to the house.

‘I’m more than capable making my own way home,’ Eloise said crossly, pulling her arms from where Lisa and Jess were attempting to steady her. ‘Goodness me, anyone would think I’d been drinking. Or you were arresting me.’ Eloise suddenly stopped walking. ‘What do you mean, that man?’

‘You said that man turned his nose up when he saw the potted meat. Even though it was from Waitrose?’ Lisa attempted an explanation.

‘Mum, don’t confuse her,’ Jess warned.

‘You know, that man I lived with? Have to say I wasn’t keen on him. Never was. Friend of my brother Brian. Can’t say I was keen on him much either. But Mummy said I had to marry him. Not my brother, of course. I certainly would have put my foot down if I’d had to marry Brian.’ Eloise laughed and then tutted. ‘Should have put my damned foot down when they said I had to marry the other one… You know, that man…’ Eloise stopped, frowning, obviously trying to recall her husband’s name. ‘D’you think I could have a potted-meat sandwich for my lunch?’

‘Ooh, there’s lovely roast pork for lunch,’ Jess said, slipping slightly on a patch of mud.

‘Tell you what, Eloise,’ Lisa said, ‘I’ll bring you some, next time I’m here. The butcher in the village does a lovely home-made beef spread.’

‘Mum.’ Jess lowered her voice, nudging at Lisa’s arm that was round Eloise’s back helping to steady her. ‘You were upset when you arrived. Donothead off home without telling me what’s happened. Look, can I leave you to get Eloise back to the day room? Lunch in ten minutes if you’d like to help there as well? We’re really late with serving. Goodness, it’s almost afternoon tea time. So, can you give us a hand? But only if you’re up to it. I still think you’re doing too much. Mind you, it’s so helpful having you here. I need to speak to Mr Sattar, although I really don’t know what it’s got to do withme. I only work here.’

‘It’s Sorrel.’ Lisa lowered her own voice as they arrived back at the kitchen door.

‘Sorrel? What now?’ Jess sighed deeply. ‘She’s not refusing to go to school again? I thought we’d sorted her out – you know, with this audition in London? We can really do without going through all that again.’

‘No, no, it’s not that…’ Lisa broke off as a dark-haired man stood and stepped forward from where he’d been sitting outside Jess’s office. She recognised him instantly as one of the two men who’d come into the coffee shop when she’d been in there with Fabian.

‘Hello, Mr Sattar, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. Do come through.’ Jess was immediately back in professional mode, politely welcoming the visitor. ‘Mum—’ she turned back to Lisa as the man went through the open door and Jess made to follow him ‘—don’t go anywhere, will you? I need to know what’s going on at home.’

* * *

Lisa spent the next hour helping to serve a very late lunch of roast pork and apple pie to the residents – she really did enjoy being needed, and it stopped her brooding over Sorrel’s problems. What did they say? You were only as happy as your unhappiest child? But it was almost impossible to fill your head with whatever might be wrong with your youngest daughter when there was a shaking hand to direct to a plate; when there was a resident who was telling her a funny story about her husband, Cyril, getting an electric shock from the Christmas tree lights thirty years earlier.

‘Goodness, was he all right, Sylvia?’ Lisa laughed along with the woman, who was chortling now. ‘More custard on that pie?’

‘All right?’ Sylvia put down her spoon, smiling impishly in Lisa’s direction. ‘He wasdead. Very dead. Which was all right with me. Meant I could marry his brother, Rodney, who I’d always fancied.’

‘Right?’ Lisa glanced across at Bex who, obviously a party to Sylvia’s history, grinned, nodding her confirmation of the story.

‘Now then, guurl.’ Lisa’s wide-eyed appreciation of Sylvia’s story was interrupted by a slow, lilting Caribbean accent, smooth as milk chocolate, from Denise Donoghue sitting across the table from Sylvia. ‘Talking about fancying people, what happened between that daughter of yours and my grandson?’ Denise’s eyes twinkled. ‘Mason cut up that she’s back with that barrister boyfriend of her. That southern man come between what was hotting up into nice little romance…’

‘Hang on, Denise,’ Lisa protested. ‘Mason went back to his wife. Nothing to do with Fabian – that’s Robyn’s boyfriend from London?—’

‘I know who is Fabian Carrington,’ Denise interrupted. ‘I read the paper. Big-shot barrister from London defending the Soho Slasher. How do he do that? Hmm? Defending that bastard. She better off with Mason…’

‘I’ll stop you there, Denise.’ Lisa frowned, but she could see the old woman’s eyes were mischievous. ‘Mason’s back with his wife – Angel, isn’t it? – and Robyn and Fabian are very much together. So,’ she added, laughing now, ‘don’tyoustart meddling and matchmaking, Denise.’

Eloise, sitting at the far end of the dining room, aloof and refusing pudding, closed her eyes on the noise and people around her, distancing herself, it seemed to Lisa, from her situation and all that it entailed.

* * *

Lunch over, Lisa texted Robyn to make sure Sorrel had stayed in school once she had dropped her back off there after the bout of vomiting. She was relieved when Robyn immediately texted back to say that when she’d spoken to her at the start of the lunch break, before going off to meet Fabian and the estate agent, Sorrel had appeared well and much more like her old self.

Lisa made her way to Jess’s office, but the door was still closed. She was about to turn back to the day room where the residents were being organised for the afternoon’s activities, as well as a visit from the chiropodist, when the door opened and Kamran Sattar came through, followed by Jess.

‘My mother, Lisa.’ Jess made introductions.

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