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Clegg pulled Val into a tight hug and kissed her cheek. ‘It’s just her way, love. Look – hey! Are you regrettin’ this now? We spoke about this at length, din’t we? She’d’ve never left that place unless summat serious happened and thank God it did, in a way.’
Val pulled away from him, leant back against the sink and crossed her arms.
‘But I don’t think I can stand any more of this silent treatment. It’s only been a couple of weeks. And we can’t keep the kids away forever. Adam says he can’t concentrate on his studying whilst he’s over at Zac’s. He says they’re partying all the time, instead of studying – don’t laugh, Cleggy! He’s just not into partying like his mates, is he? At least he’ll get a decent job at the end of the day. Plus, I’ve heard Zac’s probably taking stuff. So I want them back home. And your mum should be in a home or summat – she really should!’
Val shook her head when Clegg wouldn’t meet her gaze. She loaded the dishwasher with their lunch things, then poured their tea and sat down at the table, contemplating her husband as he sipped his hot drink.
‘Look, Clegg, I know we talked about all this but are we doin’ the right thing here?’
‘Yes I think we are, Val. Look. I know she’s annoyin’. And – hell – she’s agile for seventy-nine! So, yes, she could possibly go on livin’ for another twenty years or so – there’s longevity in the family. But, like I keep tellin’ you, we simply can’t afford to put her into a nursin’ home, just yet. We haven’t got that sort of money, as you well know. Somewhere down the line, of course, we’ll find somewhere for her to go because there’s no way she’s livin’ with us full-time. But you just have to be patient a little while longer.’
When Val didn’t respond, he took hold of his wife’s hand. ‘Can’t we just give it a go?’
Val pulled her hand away and cut him a slice of her Victoria sponge. He took it and wolfed it down in two bites.
She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Not even with the sale of her house?’
‘What? Well no, Val! Not even with the sale of her house! There’d be virtually nothing left out of the proceeds if we used that to pay her nursing home bills! It’s more than £24,000 a year just to keep her alive in those places, as you well know. And we don’t have that sort of money to pay for it. So no, Val. The proceeds from the sale of her house are going to benefit all of us! Like I keep telling you. We want to retire early, don’t we, as well as put the kids through uni? All those things cost a lot of money that we simply don’t have on either of our wages. And I, for one, can’t wait to get out of the security business. You know I’m fed up with being a security guard. It’s boring and the hours are crap. That’s why we’re doin’ all this, isn’t it? If her house is worth what we think it is then there should be something in it for all of us – even Mum when the time comes to put her in an old peoples’ home. Hopefully, she’ll see sense, about all of this, and then happily sign on the dotted line and that’ll be that.’
Val slapped the table, which made her husband jump.
‘Look, do you really think she’s just going to say, “Well, here’s the money from the house, Cleggy?” You’re mad if you do. I’ve seen how stubborn she gets, remember? Your poor dad, having to put up with all that junk brought into the house over the years. There was no room to breathe let alone live in. And remember the time we tried to help her? Took us days, remember? We cleared everything out and cleaned the house and put it all outside for the bin-men to take away and then she just dragged it all back in because she said it looked scruffy outside on the kerb! And that time Jessie fell. Well, the house is a ruddy danger zone too. The whole thing’s bloody crazy, if you ask me. And I’m an easy-going sort of person. Bottom line, though, Cleggy, she’s not going to simply roll over and die, whatever you might hope for.’
Clegg growled.
‘All right! I know she’s bloody stubborn, Val. But look at it this way – I’m her only son, so it’s all comin’ to me one way or another. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Val! Me and Mum have never really got on over the years, have we? We’ve tolerated each other, at best. So you don’t ever have to worry about her being a permanent fixture in our household. Plus you know I’ve only ever thought about us and the kids the whole way through this. I’ve had to put my own family first, especially since there was nothing more we could do to stop her hoarding. You can only do so much for someone. But that electrical fault – halleluiah – that was the icin’ on the cake, as far as I’m concerned! So I really do think that now she’ll see sense when I mention the uni bills for Adam and Jessie. She’ll want them to finish their education properly. She’ll want to help us out, Val. I’m sure of it.’
‘But it’s me who’ll be looking after her, Cleggy.’
‘Yes but not for long, sweetheart! Mebbe a year or so. Then we can put her away somewhere. She’s in the annexe, out of our hair, anyway. She’s got her own TV and things in there. She won’t be under our feet all the time. So it really shouldn’t be a problem. You’ll cope, Val. You’re a ruddy nurse for God’s sake; it shouldn’t be so difficult for you. Isn’t that why we planned this?’
Val shook her head again. ‘Yeah but at least with my patients I get to come home and have a rest. This is going to be full on, day in, day out. And what if she decides not to speak to me at all?’
‘Oh, look, you worry too much! Darlin’, I’ve got every intention of gettin’ her into a home one day soon. Don’t worry about that. But for the moment let’s just give it a go. Let’s get the place sold; see what we get for it. We’ll take her out for a drive later and see if we can get her to be more social. It’ll be fine, love. Trust me.’
Chapter 6 (#u1390a525-5058-5e89-b6eb-d4c3dea1da36)
In the conservatory, Gloria sat sipping her tea, staring at their wonderful garden, abloom with blue agapanthus, white lace-cap hydrangeas and Nelly Moser clematis, which Val had carefully sown and nurtured over the years, wistfully draping itself along the bottom wall. To give Val her due, she was a very caring sort of person and perfectly suited to being a nurse. But Clegg, even though he was her son and she loved him dearly, Clegg was a bully. She’d always known it. Forgiven it but known it.
Oh, Arthur had always called Clegg a ‘wild card’. He’d sailed too close to the wind in all manner of ways as a teenager and even managed to secure a few nights ‘in clink’ after one particular bloody episode of fighting, when he’d yelled at the arresting officer that he wished him dead in a very gruesome sort of way …
It had piqued Gloria, back then, that her son always dealt with all his problems via his fists. They certainly hadn’t brought him up to be like that. Arthur, usually affably patient, had finally snapped and told him to go get signed up and do his bit. Well, he’d got no other prospects when he left school and fighting with other kids on the estate seemed to be the common order of the day – every time he went out. In fact, he seemed to be a very angry young man, most of the time, and nobody knew why. Least of all Cleggy. So Arthur hoped the army might channel his energies in a more positive way.
‘You know, half me troubles are because of me name, Dad! Who in their right mind would give me the name of some stupid old fogey on Last of the Summer Wine? Ain’t gonna put me right in me mates’ eyes, is it, Dad?’
But Arthur wasn’t to blame. He’d loved all the old comedies, as had Gloria. They’d roared at the exploits of characters in the likes of The Good Life, Steptoe and Son, Only Fools and Horses and the rest. Those were the days of endless good telly and irascible characters. In fact, Arthur had taken pride in the fact he’d given his son the name of a lovable household character, who’d caused millions of people to roll about laughing at the foibles of life.
‘But you’ve got a mate called Baron. What the ’eck is that about, son? Least Clegg is unique.’
‘It’s unique, Dad, ’cos no one else friggin’ wants a stupid name like that!’
Gloria had thought that, perhaps, Clegg’s name hadn’t helped matters. But, finally, after all her son’s troubles and a succession of failed relationships, he met a much older yet volatile woman called Babs who’d entered his life with three kids and a shed-load of her own problems; including a jealous ex-husband who’d sent Clegg flying through the doors of A&E and yet – fortunately – straight into the caring arms of nurse Valerie Robson.
Luckily Val had been his perfect foil and straightened him out, as far as Gloria could tell. He’d met her late in the day, as it were, but they’d still gone on to have the football-mad Adam and little sister Jessie, her perfect grandchildren.
Gloria often found herself thinking about the fun they’d had when Clegg and Val visited with the children when Arthur was alive. Those days were a mixed bag of memories but mainly sweet ones, Gloria chose to believe.
Well, she’d had nothing else to think about whilst being cooped up in her son’s house for these past two weeks with only the TV for company. They wouldn’t let her do anything or help out around the house, not even laying or clearing the table for breakfast or dinner. They just kept telling her to sit down and relax or watch TV. Yet since being deposited here with Clegg and Val, Gloria noted that her grandchildren were nowhere to be seen. She’d adored little Jessie and Adam but they hadn’t been brought to visit her in ages. She was trying to remember their last visit – gosh, probably a good ten or eleven years ago. The last time was when Jessie tripped and fell over some of the clutter in the lounge. My goodness, how she howled! So she’d’ve been around seven. They’d both be teenagers now.
Clegg explained that they weren’t currently at home because it was the school holidays so they were off camping in Wales with a load of their school chums and should be back home next week. Gloria couldn’t understand his emphasis on the word ‘should’. Were they coming back or weren’t they? What was that all about? Or had they turned into uncontrollable tearaways, since she’d last seen them? If they were in their teens now it could be a troubling time for them, Gloria thought, recalling her own problems with Clegg at that age. His problems had brought other boys’ mothers to their door, complaining about her son’s aggression. Or the school always phoning and wanting to see her. Once they’d even had a brick thrown through their window. Very unsettling times, they were.
However, the children’s holiday week had come and gone but there was still no sighting of Jessie and Adam. Gloria crept upstairs into their bedrooms, when Clegg and Val were at work, and looked at their things. There were lots of photos on their walls but Gloria didn’t recognise anyone in them.
Yet, as Gloria sipped her tea in the conservatory, something felt amiss. She didn’t know what it was but there was a lot of whispering going on and she didn’t like that. It made her feel awkward, as though she shouldn’t really be there. Perhaps Clegg and Val weren’t getting on any more. She hadn’t seen them together in a long time. Who knows what goes on in families, she thought. Or perhaps it was something else entirely.
In the past, when Clegg visited, he’d always come by himself, apart from once, when Val accompanied him. On that particular day she’d walked round moaning about every aspect of Gloria’s home, especially her collections of things, and she’d wanted to start chucking it all out onto the streets, for heaven’s sake! Gloria soon put a stop to that, with some choice words. Perhaps that’s why she’d never been round since.
‘Oh, Val’s workin’, Mum. She’s always workin’. It’s a callin’ being a nurse, folk say,’ he’d usually explain, by way of an apology.
That aside, it also upset Gloria that Clegg had never even thought to take her back to their house for a cuppa or a meal, which would’ve been just wonderful for a change. Plus she’d’ve got to see the children more.
So even though she was staying with them, whilst she knew her house was being sorted out and even though everything was very nice, in an odd contrived sort of way – well, the central heating and hot water, especially, were very nice – she just didn’t feel comfortable with this arrangement. She felt out of place. It was as though she was somewhere she wasn’t meant to be. Plus she didn’t know how to respond or talk to Val yet. She wasn’t even sure they had anything in common any more.
She couldn’t wait to get back to her own home, once it was sorted out. That was a comforting thought at least.
Val’s beautiful garden seemed to stare at Gloria as she sat lost in thought but Gloria Frensham wasn’t really looking at any of it.
Chapter 7 (#u1390a525-5058-5e89-b6eb-d4c3dea1da36)
‘Jocelyn, it’s Gloria!’
Jocelyn was taken aback. Well, she’d never expected a call from her arch-rival. In fact, she’d never had the time of day for the woman who’d been a thorn in her side, one way or another, over all these years because of Tilsbury. Not that he was a real catch by any means. Ha, their rows had been famous over the years. But there had been a time when they’d gotten on a treat.
‘What the effin’ hell do you want?’
‘And it’s great to talk to you too, ducks! Look, can’t we put all that stuff behind us, now? It’s been going on for years! We were lovely friends once –’
‘Yeah but nicking someone else’s husband ain’t playin’ fair, Glor!’
‘Oh rubbish, Joss! You kicked him out! And he hadn’t done nothing wrong. He likes animals! You got it all wrong and he used that as a reason to leave, is all. How many times do we have to go over old ground? Plus he came to me. Not the other way round. I was happy with my Arthur.’
Gloria paused, wondering if Jocelyn was still listening.
‘Besides you’re tied up with Marvin now. And he treats you right, by all accounts. Can’t have ’em both, lovey. Anyway, I’m ringing to ask a favour. I expect you know what’s gone on, ducks. And we both know Clegg’s a bit of a twat when it comes to Tilsbury. But he looks after me, he does. They both do, in their way. But, that aside, I need to talk to Tils. Want to apologise to him about all this. Don’t mind if you want to pass the message on. Or else I can speak to him, if you give him this number and get him to ring. But it’ll have to be before six p.m., this week, cause Cleggy and Val are both workin’ ’til then and I don’t want no trouble from them.’
Silence continued at the end of the line. Gloria didn’t push it.
‘I suppose!’ Jocelyn said with a sigh.
‘What do you suppose, ducks?’
‘I’ll tell him. But here, Glor. I’ll tell you summat …’
‘What Jocelyn?’
‘Well, Tils was like, full of it, when your Cleggy chucked him out. I mean he says Cleggy literally got hold of him by the scruff of his collar and marched him down the stairs and out the door. Like, over all them things you have, and Cleggy was kicking stuff outta the way and stuff was breaking. Tinklies. You know? And then straight outta your house. Anyway, the next week there was a right racket, I can tell you –’
‘Racket?’
‘Oh yeah,’ Jocelyn continued, excitedly. ‘I went to see what was going on, like, with Big Doreen from next door. And it was right astoundin’ it was. Big lorries arrived and people with weird-looking gear on and masks over their faces. And they kept going in and out, and gettin’ stuff and dumpin’ it in the lorries. Just chuckin’ it in, like. Stuff was crackin’ and breakin’. And people were gawping at what was goin’ on. You’d’ve be in the nursin’ home by then. And after that the electricity people went in, to fix up your Big Bang. Then there were decorators and floorin’ people. Gawd! It looked like a ruddy crime scene, it did, with all the vans and people swarmin’ all around!’
‘Crikey, Joss. That sounds like a whole load of crumblies!’
‘Yeah, it was, Glor. But, you know, if you saw your place now you wouldn’t recognise it. All your stuff’s gone. To the dump, Tils says. He says it’s all painted up, now: white walls and you’ve got a new kitchen and new bathroom. He snuck in and saw it after it was all done up. Plus there’s three For Sale boards outside. They’re sellin’ it, Glor. Looks like Cleggy’s sellin’ your house from under ya, love.’
‘He’s what? No, he can’t be! Don’t be silly. He’s meant to be sorting it all out for me. Not sellin’ it, love! He didn’t tell me he was sellin’ it, Joss,’ Gloria said, suddenly feeling sick. That couldn’t be what was happening, surely. ‘Crikey, ducks, are you sure?’
‘So why else would there be sale boards outside it, then?’
‘Definitely outside my place?’ Gloria gasped. ‘Not next door?’
‘I seen ’em with my own eyes, Glor!’
She’d been told they were looking for the electrical fault. She’d never been told that Clegg wanted to do anything else. He told her he was going to put things right and she’d thought that meant that, once things had been sorted out, she’d just move back in and things would continue as normal. But, if what Jocelyn was saying was true then there’d be nothing left to go home for because ALL her stuff had apparently gone. To the DUMP. And new stuff was replacing her old things.
So maybe that’s what was going on. Her son, Clegg, was trying to sell her house, on the quiet! Gloria felt weak with worry. Oh my God!
No, it couldn’t be. Jocelyn must’ve got it wrong! Why would Clegg do something like that, without telling her? Why would he think it was okay to do something like that without telling her? Or did he just want her to live with them? They hadn’t discussed anything like that. And no! Gloria didn’t want to live with them – even though they were the only family she had now. She’d dreamt about it in the early days after Arthur died, of course, but it wasn’t something she’d contemplated for a long time now. She’d grown to like living by herself. Plus there’d be rules at Clegg’s and Tilsbury wouldn’t be allowed to visit, for one thing.
Or else – no! Surely not!
A chill ran through Gloria. Surely he didn’t want to put her back into Green’s Nursing Home, did he? Or did he want to put her somewhere else, out of the way, so she’d be no trouble to anyone? Away from the people she loved and cared about …?
What if that was his plan? They’d never really got on, mother and son, had they? Not really. It’d been much better and easier when Arthur was alive. Clegg had respected Arthur. But since then …
Or maybe that was his plan? To put her in an old people’s home – sitting there, alongside moaning old folk, just like in that Waiting for God programme, and visited even less by her family. They had busy lives; Clegg was always telling her that. And then, eventually, she’d be forgotten …
No, Clegg! Surely notthat!
How she used to laugh at that show! But it didn’t seem quite so funny now she might end up in that same situation.
Realisation suddenly dawned that she was nearly eighty. She would eventually become a bind to her son and his family, so it would definitely be something they’d be discussing with her in the not-too-distant future, of that she was sure. It also hit her that they might be contemplating where to put her at this very moment in time, especially with this new problem of her house. Gloria knew she didn’t feel ready for that kind of conversation. She was still able-bodied and, as far as she knew, she wasn’t starting to lose her marbles just yet. And even though she could see she was seventy-nine on the outside, she certainly didn’t feel like an old woman on the inside.
‘You okay, Glor?’ asked Jocelyn in a small, worried voice.
No, Gloria Frensham was not okay. A tear dripped slowly down her cheek. She thanked Jocelyn, with a watery, ‘Yeah but I, I gotta go now. So ta-ra, love. We’ll speak soon.’ And she put the phone down.
She simply couldn’t believe what Jocelyn was suggesting, but Jocelyn wasn’t prone to lying. Yet it really didn’t seem feasible that Clegg would go behind her back and sell her property or get rid of all her belongings, without her knowledge. Would he? Did he really care so little for her feelings? Her mind was buzzing with all the questions, flying around inside her brain.
She desperately hoped that Jocelyn had got it completely wrong.
Chapter 8 (#ulink_dc38266e-048d-500e-9191-6950a20e98d6)
Gloria slumped onto the stool by the phone in Clegg’s hall, dumbfounded, trying to make sense of Jocelyn’s news. She wiped her tears away, on the back of her sleeve.
She had to think this through.
She didn’t want to jump to the wrong conclusion about her son. Relations between them were strained at best and, anyway, she had to live with him and his wife for the moment. But the more she thought about it she realised that no one had actually mentioned anything to her about her either returning to her own home, after the electrics had been fixed, or staying with them on a more permanent basis. They hadn’t had any meaningful conversations with her about anything relating to her future. Or were things still being decided between them. Maybe that’s what all the pussyfooting around was about?
Right, well, she had to get to grips with this. She had to get things clear in her own mind. She had to look at the facts. Fact One, she thought, taking a deep breath.
Her ruddy, difficult and annoying yet occasionally affable son; the son Arthur and she had tried to guide and love, despite his failings, had now, supposedly, in some wild turn of events decided to get rid of everything she’d ever owned. What? Even her jewellery? And what about all her precious photo albums? Some of her most valuable possessions were what she could see in those albums.
And there was lots of other stuff she really wanted to hold on to. There was Cleggy’s little red three-wheeler tricycle that she’d kept, for starters, and the old Singer sewing machine for stitching Arthur’s work shirts. Oh yes and then there was Cleggy’s little finger paintings he did when he was at school and all those Plasticine models he made. And there was Arthur’s collection of World War I planes and oh, there were lots of things she wanted to keep. Memories were attached to all of them. And memories were all she had left now. No! He couldn’t have! He wouldn’t have done all that, surely?
Would he?
Fact Two …
Jocelyn had said that Clegg had cleared everything else away too. Everything clogging up the rooms. All the crap, as Clegg always called it. Taken away in lorries! Well yes. If Gloria was honest she’d known that, one day, at some point, everything would have to be sorted out and most of it dumped; there’d been a vast amount of rubbish. Even Green’s Nursing Home had given her some new clothes. They’d realised the blouses and skirts they’d found in her wardrobes, once they’d cleared everything out, were damp and would be too small for her now. The dresses Green’s had given her, however, didn’t fit her very well so she wanted to get some new ones when Val could take her.
Probably donated by families of people who died, Gloria thought, jokingly, and then stopped, realising that – oh my God – that could actually have been the truth.
Nonetheless, even though Gloria knew Clegg could be bloody-minded, she didn’t really believe he’d get rid of all her personal belongings and knick-knacks, without telling her about it first. Or perhaps he didn’t realise how important all that stuff was to her? It had been part and parcel of her and Arthur’s life together. So surely he wouldn’t be that inconsiderate, would he?
Fact Three …
By all accounts, Clegg had even got rid of dear Tilsbury, and told him never to come back! Well, how ridiculous! As if Tilsbury would do what her bully of a son told him. But to top it all off she’d also been told that Clegg was getting rid of her house as well now!
Gloria let out a deep sigh. The facts were alarmingly clear. It didn’t look good, whatever Clegg was doing. Plus he’d discussed none of it with her beforehand.
So Jocelyn’s news had been totally shattering – to the extent that Gloria didn’t want to believe it was true. But Gloria had lived with her son long enough to realise that Cleggy was a force to be reckoned with. She knew that much, as his mother. And so, consequently, the facts seemed to stack up against him. Therefore, it was highly probable that Jocelyn’s take on the situation was correct.
Nonetheless, she could see, on the other hand, that she’d never really know what was going on unless she confronted Clegg and Val about her suspicions. And that was something she certainly didn’t want to face or do, right now.
Oh dear.
Why were things starting to go horribly wrong for her? How had her life suddenly turned out like this?
Chapter 9 (#ulink_1026dc34-3d09-5ce9-9510-482db7f61d9d)
The next day a despondent Gloria paced her bedroom until Clegg and Val went to work. Then she picked up their hall telephone to speak to Tilsbury. Jocelyn had kept her promise and Tilsbury had briefly rung Gloria back yesterday afternoon.
‘Here, Glor, ring me back tomorrow at Jocelyn’s, when the coast’s clear and we can have a proper talk,’ he’d said.
But, today, the last thing she wanted was for either Clegg or Val to come home, unexpectedly, and catch her on the phone to Clegg’s dreaded nemesis, Tilsbury. All hell would break loose if they did. Of that she was sure.
Gloria hesitated before dialling Jocelyn’s number and took a deep breath.
