LITMIR.BIZ

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she’d confided her crush in Sarah, who then admitted to having a crush on her uncle – Mandy’s father. They’d been convinced they were the only ones to have these feelings for older men and that if anyone had discovered they found their uncles attractive they would have been locked up and ostracized for good.

      Mandy leant with her back against the cloakroom door. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. John, middle-aged, overweight and balding, once the object of her desire! How could she? How could she and Sarah? It seemed ludicrous now. But there was something else – something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, that was making her legs tremble and heart pound. Something that lurked in the shadows of her mind, another, separate reason for her panic. Something that challenged her explanation that it was the shock of bumping into John and remembering her crush that had made her so uncomfortable and embarrassed. Half remembered and then forgotten, a feeling rather than a thought, similar to when she’d first seen the house: as though she had something to be frightened of but couldn’t remember what.

      Heaving herself away from the door Mandy crossed to the washbasin and turned on the tap. She splashed cold water over her burning cheeks and then patted her face dry on the hand-towel. The cloakroom looked different from how she’d remembered it – possibly the colour scheme had changed, for the dressing table and chair seemed the same, as did the door to the walk-in wardrobe. Perhaps it was the passage of time and the fact she was now taller that made the room look different? With a small sigh, she reined in her thoughts, used the toilet and then rinsed her hands. She checked her face in the mirror and left the cloakroom.

      In the hall the chink of cutlery and china could be heard coming from the dining room at the end of the hall, but there was no conversation.

      ‘It’s a buffet, help yourself,’ Evelyn said cheerily as Mandy entered the dining room. Evelyn was seated at the far side of the long oak dining table which was covered with platters and serving bowls of food. ‘Mrs Saunders will get you something to drink.’

      ‘Just water, please,’ Mandy said to the housekeeper, who was waiting by the sideboard, and sat in the chair left vacant next to her father.

      She was on the opposite side of the table to Evelyn and Gran, with John to her right at the head of the table. She kept her gaze away from John. So too did her father, she thought. He was concentrating on the table just in front of his plate, looking most uncomfortable. It seemed ridiculously formal for lunch, and the atmosphere was strained with them all together. Mandy looked at the array of cold meats, new potatoes, quiches and salads, and regretted agreeing to lunch; a sandwich on their laps would have been far more appropriate.

      ‘Quite a spread, isn’t it?’ Gran said dryly, glancing at her from across the table. ‘I told Evelyn not to go to so much trouble.’

      ‘We have to eat, Mum,’ Evelyn chided. ‘And it’s no trouble. Help yourself, Mandy.’

      Mandy smiled and accepted the platter of quiche Evelyn passed to her. Using one of the silver servers she carefully cut a slice and placed it in the centre of her large gleaming white plate, hoping it would fill up space. Mrs Saunders brought her a glass of water and then moved a salad bowl to within reach. ‘Thank you,’ Mandy said, and without much enthusiasm took a helping of green salad. She rarely ate much so early in the day; it was only 12.15, and despite not having had breakfast she wasn’t hungry. The formality of the setting – upright on their high-back dining chairs and Mrs Saunders hovering ready to assist – certainly didn’t help. Indeed it seemed somewhat bizarre, almost grotesque, she thought, that as Grandpa lay desperately ill and barely able to sip water two rooms away they were in here facing a feast. Mandy took a couple of mouthfuls of quiche, drank some water, and then began toying with the salad.

      ‘Leave it if you don’t want it,’ John suddenly said, making her start. ‘You don’t have to eat it here.’

      She looked up and felt her cheeks burn, then glanced at Evelyn. ‘Sorry, I’m really not very hungry.’

      ‘Don’t worry,’ Evelyn said with a tight smile. ‘I’ll have Mrs Saunders pack you sandwiches for your return journey.’

      But John’s words had taken Mandy back to her childhood, and one of the first times she’d stayed with Sarah. She remembered she’d sat self-consciously at this very table and toyed with some food she hadn’t liked, overwhelmed by the formality of their dining. ‘Leave it, Mandy,’ John had said. ‘You don’t have to eat it here.’ And she remembered the absolute relief she’d felt, for at home her mother had always insisted on a clean plate.

      ‘Sorry,’ she said again to Evelyn, setting her knife and fork on her plate. Then she sat with her hands in her lap as they continued eating, not liking to make her excuses but wondering when she could reasonably leave.

      Evelyn seemed happy to be at the table, making conversation, perhaps as a diversion from the sick room, Mandy thought, although her talk was mainly about Grandpa: the appalling state of the hospital she’d rescued him from; the doctor who’d been in charge of his case and whom they’d only seen once; and nursing him at home. ‘John and I have been operating a rota,’ Evelyn said, glancing at her husband. ‘John sat with Dad last night so it’ll be my turn tonight. Unfortunately I still have to wake John as I can’t lift Dad by myself.’

      ‘Why do you have to lift Dad?’ her father asked naively, speaking for the first time.

      ‘To get him on to the commode,’ Evelyn said.

      “Oh.’

      ‘Although Dad’s lost a lot of weight, he’s still very heavy. I have to be careful of my back.’

      Mandy saw her father shift uncomfortably, but he couldn’t have known what Evelyn had meant.

      ‘It works all right,’ John said amicably. ‘I nap when I can during the day. I would rather Evelyn left all the nights to me, so she gets some sleep.’

      ‘Your business is managing without you?’ her father asked, changing the conversation.

      ‘Yes, I have a good team. I’ve briefed them on the situation here, and they phone if there’s a problem. I work on my laptop – emails, etc., while Dad sleeps.’

      Her father nodded, and Mandy felt a stab of guilt. While John had rearranged his work, house and routine so that he and Evelyn could nurse Grandpa, she and her father had done nothing other than visit, and her mother was conspicuous by her absence. In their defence, Mandy thought, her parents hadn’t appreciated the seriousness of Grandpa’s condition or the practical implications of nursing him.

      ‘Dad and I could look after Grandpa this afternoon,’ Mandy offered, ‘while you and Evelyn go out or get some rest.’

      ‘Yes,’ her father readily agreed. ‘We can hold the fort.’

      ‘Thanks,’ John said. ‘We might take you up on that if you don’t have to rush off.’

      ‘No, not at all,’ her father said convivially. ‘I’ll call Jean and tell her to expect me later.’

      Mandy looked at Evelyn and hesitated. ‘Is Sarah around?’

      ‘She visited yesterday, with her partner – they live in the town. Sarah finds it too upsetting seeing Grandpa like this. She can’t really offer much help. She’s worried she’ll remember Grandpa as he is now, rather than as he was when he was well. I’m sure she’ll visit again later in the week.’

      Mandy nodded. ‘I understand.’ For she was already finding that the image of Grandpa today as he was now, sick and emaciated, was starting to impose itself upon the memory from when she’d last seen him, fit and healthy.

      ‘I’ve finished,’ Gran said, dabbing her lips with the linen napkin. ‘I’ll go to Will. He shouldn’t be left alone for too long.’ She turned in her seat, ready to stand, and was drawing her walking frame towards her when a crash came from the study followed by a piercing scream of pain. ‘I knew it!’ she said, panic-stricken. ‘I just knew he wanted something.’

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