Blowing It (18 page)

‘OK, are you ready for this?’ Ilex asked, removing the ignition key and tidying a couple of petrol receipts away into the glove compartment.

‘Ready for what? It’s only dinner at your sister’s, not World War Three!’ Manda laughed, opening her door.

‘Don’t leave anything out in the car,’ Ilex warned her, glancing across to see if she’d dropped a CD or had been looking in the
A to Z
.

‘Ilex, has anyone ever told you you’re in danger of turning into an old woman?’

He didn’t reply, leaving the accusation hanging in the air with Manda’s scornful laughter. He didn’t
mind
being in danger of turning into an old woman. It sure beat the hell out of simply being a stalker’s target.

They’d now eaten all the tomato tarts, followed by the roast chicken, the sweet potato mash, ratatouille and asparagus. They’d also got through a couple of bottles of champagne and a fair bit of both red and white wine and Clover wondered when anyone would mention what they’d all come to the house to talk about. She couldn’t believe how very much they were all on Best Behaviour. In a couple of hours of well-mannered, non-challenging conversation they’d covered wood versus vinyl for garden furniture, Elsa’s approaching ballet exam (pre-primary level), whether Ilex should trade in the BMW, Manda’s work move from North Terminal check-in to Executive Lounge reception and the chances of Jamie Oliver ending up in the House of Lords. Even Sorrel was polite and sociable and answered Manda’s questions about her A-level exams without a single don’t-care shrug or dismissive comment. Clover was beginning to despair that they’d ever get round to the subject they’d all been assembled here for. She stood up and started clearing plates – Gaz leaped up to help her, collecting a worryingly tall, tottering heap of crockery. She wouldn’t point out it was her best – the others had already commented (though nicely, thank goodness) about the effort she’d put in.

‘I’ll bring the … um … pudding,’ Clover said as she took the plates to the sink. ‘And cheese; would anyone like that first?’

‘We could just take both, then they can choose,’ Gaz suggested, disentangling forks from knives and stashing them with their handles facing upwards into a bowl of hot soapy water in the sink.

‘Thanks, Gaz – expertly done,’ Clover commented.

‘I worked in a restaurant last summer,’ he said. ‘They’d kill you if you mixed the cutlery. Yours is smart stuff – I thought it didn’t look dishwasher safe.’

She smiled. ‘You’re right! Sorrel would have just flung it all into the machine. You’ll make someone a lovely—’ She stopped, confused and embarrassed. Surely she hadn’t been about to say ‘husband’? Sorrel was a long, long way from thinking about weddings, or even settling for one man, surely. Manda wasn’t, though … which made her feel that somewhere in the back of her mind an embryonic idea might just be stirring into life.

‘Yeah, you’re right. I’ll make someone a lovely head waiter,’ Gaz said with a laugh.

‘Mmmmm! Sticky toffee pudding! I haven’t had that since … well, I can’t remember when.’ Ilex spooned a dollop of clotted cream over his pudding and sank his spoon into it, his face, Manda thought, as blissed out as if she’d offered him dirty back-seat action in the car. Maybe her darling, late mother had been right about this too – food really was the way
to
a man’s heart, or at least one way. She’d put it on her list, give serious cooking a go, see if that stirred Ilex into a new direction of appreciation, a direction that lead to that emerald ring in Tiffany’s.

‘Actually, we had it two weeks ago,’ she now pointed out, cutting herself a slender piece of Yarg cheese.

‘Yes, but that was from Marks and Sparks. Not homemade,’ Ilex said. ‘You can’t compare them.’

Clover rather thought you could but wasn’t going to tell Ilex that hers were also from M&S, though slyly decanted onto a pretty serving dish, disguised with a dusting of icing sugar and surrounded by a selection of luscious scarlet berries.

‘Er … look …’ Clover cleared her throat and started again, thrown by the way the rest of them fell suddenly silent as if she’d rapped on the table with a hammer. ‘Everybody? I think maybe while we’re here without Mum and Dad, there’s something we should talk about. No one’s mentioned it yet and it’s here like some kind of elephant in the room.’

‘Possibly a great big white elephant,’ Sean chuckled.

Clover glowered at him and continued, ‘We really need to talk about what they’re doing with Holbrook House.’

‘They’re selling it, aren’t they?’ Manda looked puzzled, as if there were new plans no one had told her about, such as turning it into a nursing home or converting it to offices. As ever, she thought what a
lovely
wedding party venue it would make. Oh well.

‘Yes. Well, that’s what they say they’re doing. They’ve had an agent round for a preliminary valuation. I was there,’ Clover told them. They must know all this – was she the only one who cared?

‘I don’t know why they didn’t ask me,’ Ilex grumbled, topping up his glass. ‘I could have pointed them in the direction of exactly the right people for the job. I sometimes think they imagine I’m still ten and completely unqualified for anything.’

‘If you had, would you have copped for commission?’ Sean asked.

‘No, of course not!’ Ilex looked offended. ‘I’d have just been looking out for them, so they could get the best deal.’

‘Yes, but … deal or not, there are other things to think about first, aren’t there?’ Clover said. ‘Things like—’

‘Like where am I going to live when I get back? I’ll have, like,
nowhere
?’ Sorrel said. ‘No one’s mentioned
that
little problem.’

No one was mentioning it now either. Clover thought about her own immaculate guest room upstairs: soft pinky-lavender walls (Paint Library’s ‘Subtle Angel’ – who gave these colours such delicious names?), antique Amish patchwork on the bed. She couldn’t picture careless, chaotic Sorrel making herself at home in there without being close
to
hyper-ventilating. It was bad enough that she and Gaz would be staying in it tonight. She hoped they’d be … well,
gentle
with the room. And quiet if they had sex. She didn’t want the girls in the morning asking what the squealing was all about. Oh, if only she’d gone to stay with Sean in Manchester – in the fabulous private space of their room in the Lowry Hotel (where she now knew he’d stayed) she could have squealed all she wanted.

‘They said they’d buy you a flat, didn’t they?’ Ilex said to Sorrel. ‘And you’re going to Exeter University, which is such a good place to buy, right now …’

‘Ilex, are you mad? What if I hate it? What if the course isn’t right for me and I want to come home again after a month? Oh, except I haven’t
got
a home! Plus I’ve got a hall of residence place all lined up for the first year so I can meet people – what do I do with the flat then? Rent it out and then have
students
trash my pad?
Derr!
’

‘Look, we’re getting off the point here,’ Clover interrupted.

‘Are we? Oh, OK – you’re right.’ Sorrel put her hands up in surrender. ‘Me being homeless doesn’t matter at all, obviously. Go on then, Clover, please tell us, what
is
the point?’

‘Well …’ Clover considered. ‘Maybe Mum and Dad haven’t really thought this through properly. I mean, it’s not just any old house they’re selling, it’s a lot more important than that. It’s not a, oh I don’t
know
, like a
used car
or something, is it? It’s been our home; it’s full of memories.’

‘It’s full of my
stuff
,’ Sorrel growled. ‘I haven’t got time to go through all of it right now; I’ve got exams. Not that they’ve noticed.’

‘It’s still got a lot of my stuff in it too – a lot of all our stuff. All our artwork from school, things we’ve made, childhood toys, books and games and things.’

‘Yeah, but to be fair, darlin’, you can’t expect your folks to hang on to all that tat for ever.’ Sean took a corkscrew to another bottle of red wine and glanced at Ilex, who nodded. Manda’s lips narrowed crossly. He’d said he’d drive, so she could have a drink. Now they were going to have to get a cab home and waste time in the morning coming back for the car. Clover glared at Sean, furious at his disloyalty.

‘OK, discount the actual
things
,’ she conceded, worried they were all thinking she was on the wrong track here. ‘What about the speed of all this? Don’t you think they should slow down a little, make plans that are a bit sensible? Especially for Sorrel … she shouldn’t have to worry about where she’s going to be living when she’s got the most important exams of her life to think about.’

‘It’s worth a fair whack too. They should plan something safe for investment for when they come back. They can’t surely be planning to blow the lot on this big trip, can they?’ Ilex’s brow was furrowed with worry. ‘You know what they’re like, they’ll
probably
come back completely broke and have to camp on the floor of Sorrel’s one-bedder.’

‘I’d want more than one bedroom. Where would my mates sleep?’ she snapped. ‘
And
I’d want a garden, you know, for parties in summer and that.’

Sean laughed. ‘Jeez, girl, do you know how spoilt you sound? But surely even Mac and Lottie would find it hard to get through more than a couple of million trekking round the world? I mean, you’d really have to go some to do that.’

‘Don’t bet on it, Sean,’ Ilex warned. ‘The way they’re talking they could gamble it away on camel races.’

‘You see, I had this lovely idea,’ Clover said, looking misty-eyed. ‘I sort of thought that if they’re really determined that Holbrook House isn’t where they want to live any more, then maybe they’d like to think about finding somewhere else, something we could
all
enjoy, either together or separately. Some lovely, warm base where we could get together, as a family.’

‘It all sounds a bit
Waltons
, Clover,’ Ilex sniggered. ‘Where would this magical place be?’

‘I was thinking, maybe, somewhere like … um … France.’ There was a silence while they all considered this.

Manda looked puzzled. ‘France? Why
France
? Do Mac and Lottie like France?’

‘Oh, it doesn’t have to be France … could be Spain or Portugal. Greece even, though it’s tricky,
the
property-buying thing there. France is … easiest.’ Her voice tailed away. There, she’d said it. She’d put in her bid for what she wanted more than anything. If she couldn’t keep her –
their
– comfort base here in England, she’d now let them know she was willing and able to create another one for them all. Obviously she’d have to give them time to think it over, to get a picture of vines and bougainvillea and a terrace of flourishing herbs and creamy lemon-scented pelargoniums that flowered for months and months. And the pool and the tiling, and the mural she’d be so happy to paint on the surrounding wall, possibly depicting them all being happy and leaving space for additions if Manda or Sorrel had children.

‘Not that you’ve been thinking about this for ages or anything, surely, Clover?’ Ilex’s voice was almost menacing.

‘What?’ She was startled out of her dreaminess. ‘No, no! Of course not, how could I? They’ve only recently decided to sell!’

Sean, for once loyal, said nothing, but silently offered Gaz a cigarette and lit one for himself. Clover was hardly going to make them smoke in the garden when she so needed him on-side.

‘If they’re selling up, they should be thinking in terms of pensions and their future, not chucking it away on a holiday house for you and your kids,’ Ilex said. ‘They don’t seem to have a clue what it’s going to cost them to make it into their nineties without us
lot
having to fork out for care homes and so on. I mean, suppose they get Alzheimer’s or something? That could take twenty-four-hour nursing care. If they’re clever, they’ll be able to have top of the range, no question. If they squander, we’ll
all
be on incontinence duty. Don’t suppose you’ve thought of that, have you, Clover?’

‘But Dad’s songs still earn, don’t they?’ Sorrel suggested. ‘They’re not completely broke. He could afford my Mini, OK. Or at least, if he couldn’t, he didn’t say. I told him I’d have been happy with one of the old-style ones.’

‘The earnings are bound to go down – they are already. If they weren’t, they’d have kept the roof repaired, re-done the electrics. You only have to look at the place to see they can’t keep up with it any more – it’s not just that they can’t be arsed. Sad, that,’ Ilex told her. He looked depressed, Manda thought. She’d do her best, later, to cheer him up. If he wasn’t too pissed, that was. She moved his glass away a bit, in a small bid to make him forget it was there.

‘Maybe if you just slow them down a bit. Till Sorrel gets back from her trip,’ Sean suggested. ‘That way, they might have made more definite arrangements. You could talk to them. Frankly, none of you three have, really, have you? You’ve just seethed in silence, hoping they’ll snap out of it.’

‘How do we slow them down?’ Sorrel asked. ‘Every day new stuff comes through the post. You
should
have seen what was on the kitchen table – something about a cruise ship you can buy an apartment on. It travels all over the world, calling in for various events at places. Apparently in June everyone gets to stop off at the Sultan of Brunei’s birthday bash.’

Clover laughed. ‘I can’t see Mum going for that one!’ she said. ‘Can you see her cooped up on a ship, however big? She’d think it was like being trapped in the
Big Brother
house, except with golfers and industrialists. And she’s hardly the cocktail frock and captain’s table type either. And Dad – in a dinner jacket!’

‘I don’t think it’s quite like that, but anyway – the point is, they’re wading through info on Everest base camps and safaris in Kenya and joining a camel train in the Sahara and all sorts of things. Pretty ace, actually. A bit up on what Gaz and I were planning.’

‘I don’t want to be funny but …’ Gaz’s voice was tentative. ‘But … well, is what you’re all worried about them spending their own money when you think it should be, like, sort of coming to
you
? Because I don’t want to be rude, but it does sound a bit like that.’ No one spoke.