Page 22 of The Secrets of Dragonfly Lodge
‘They’d probably have gone via the back lane. I’ll call in at Dragonfly Lodge and find out. I’m not surprised that this has happened, mind you,’ he said. ‘That house is becoming a death trap.’ His words were so doom-laden, Stef half-expected him to add ‘Mark my words’ and waggle a finger at her, but instead he returned his attention to his screen.
Stef hadn’t long been back at Springfield Cottage when the house phone rang. Since her mother was outside, Stef answered it. There was a shuffling sound at the other end and a quavery voice said, ‘Hello, is that Cara Lansdown?’
Stef recognized it at once. ‘No, it’s her daughter. Is that Nancy Foster?’ Concern flowed through her. ‘I was so sorry to hear—’
‘Is this Stephanie?’
Stef said it was.
‘Stef, thank you for your lovely card. I wondered… Well, Aaron’s gone out, though he’ll be back later. Perhaps if you’re not busy, you would come over and have a cup of tea?’
‘I’m not busy,’ she said, surprised, ‘and I’d love to. But you’ve just come out of hospital. Are you sure?’
‘I’m very sure.’ Nancy’s voice was suddenly stronger. ‘I need to talk to you.’
Stef straightened, alert. ‘Well yes, then, I will.’
‘The door’s unlocked so come straight in. If you can get past the blasted wheelchair in the hall.’
After the call ended, Stef paused, uncertain. Not only had Nancy just come out of hospital, but she’d invited Stef behind Aaron’s back. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said she’d go. On the other hand, it was too good an opportunity and she couldn’t back out now. She ran upstairs to collect her notebook.
Twelve
‘I bumped my head and ricked my ankle. Those stupid slippers! At first, after I came to, I thought I was dying. The pain in my leg was simply dreadful and I couldn’t move.’
‘You poor thing!’ Stef, sitting in a chair across from Nancy on the sofa, viewed her with sympathy. With her strapped-up foot propped on a pouffe and nursing a mug of tea, Nancy looked pale and drawn, though her voice was still bright.
‘I couldn’t even remember where I’d left my phone,’ Nancy continued. ‘But I did know that Aaron was coming back. It was a question of when. I had to keep myself alive long enough to be rescued. I did a lot of thinking while I lay there. I amused myself by composing my own obituary in my head.’
‘Oh, Nancy, that’s awful!’
‘Not that anywhere would publish it. I’m hardly famous. What I mean is, I went back over my life. Wondered if I’d achieved much. Had anything I’d done been worth it?’ She put up her hand as Stef opened her mouth to object. ‘No!I’m serious. Oh, of course I taught a lot of schoolchildren the difference between xylem and phloem and how the heart pumps blood. I’m sure many went on to be useful citizens. But Stef, I had such ambitions to make big scientific discoveries when I started out as a student. You’re still too young, I hope, to understand about failed ambition.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ Stef murmured.
‘But you’re doing so well. I’m very admiring of young women these days, they’re so brave and purposeful. You can’t imagine the struggles we went through in the fifties.’
‘My granny,’ Stef said, ‘that is, my mum’s mum, used to tell me how her dad wouldn’t let her go to art college, but she was so proud of her daughter – my mum – because she did. Mum went to the Chelsea Art School at the end of the sixties – I think she had an amazing time!’
‘All those sit-ins for peace and the Summer of Love! I can imagine!’ Nancy’s eyes gleamed with good humour. ‘Your mother’s a landscape painter, isn’t she? She showed me something of hers at the exhibition where we met. A view of the sea. Such gorgeous colours.’
‘She’d be pleased to hear that you liked it.’
‘Anyway, what I was thinking as I lay there, Stef, is that if I gave up and died then there’s no full account of my story anywhere. I haven’t even told Aaron all of it. And there’s something rather sad about that. So I’d like to talk to you. Properly. For your book, I mean.’
Stef felt a rush of pleasure. ‘Would you? That’s fantastic. But are you certain?’ It didn’t feel right to take advantage of an injured woman.
‘I am. Maybe you won’t think what I have to say is interesting enough to include, but I want at least to tell you what it was like for a young woman back then, and it might provide a paragraph or two.’
‘Even that would be helpful.’ Something, a twinge of excitement, made Stef suspect that it might provide far more.
‘My grandson will be furious, of course. That’s why I asked you here when I knew he’d be out.’
‘I don’t really understand,’ Stef said quietly, feeling her way along. ‘What is he frightened I’ll do?’
‘His reasons are sound.’
‘Oh?’ Stef waited.
