The Nothing Girl Part 4

'What colour? I asked.

'All of them, he said, chucking eight into his trolley. 'Lets nip over to "Gardening" and see if theyve got any metal ones. They can double up for ashes and Boxer.

The morning began to take on a slightly surreal feeling.

We got two galvanised buckets and queued up at the cash point. Russell pulled out his wallet and frowned.

'Problem?

'Im trying to remember which card is least likely to be rejected. Lets try the blue one.

Credit card rejection was a whole new world to me and I waited breathlessly for this new experience. But not today. With an astonis.h.i.+ng amount of electronic beeping, we were through.

Russell set off for the exit at only just sub-light speed. Thomas lingered. 'Well, he said, looking around one last time. ' Whod have thought it?

'Come on, I said, nervous about being left behind. I could easily imagine Russell driving off without us, lost in the excitement of freshly acquired buckets. There was a toot from the car park.

I expected to be driven home, or at least dropped off outside the post office, my day over with, but he turned the other way.

'Where are we going?

'Oh, Im sorry, did you have other plans? Its just its raining so hard I want to get back to catch the drips. But I can easily drop you wherever you want to be.

I certainly didnt want to go home yet. 'No, thats fine.

He speeded up again and we racketed down the lanes, through Whittington, and out the other side. He turned off just past the duck pond, up a narrow lane, and there was Frogmorton Farm, exactly as I remembered it from all those years ago.

A long, low rambling building of red brick here, and a bit of stone there, with many chimneys. Oddly shaped windows had apparently been flung at random across the exterior. Various outbuildings of strange construction and purpose huddled around a yard, which in turn opened into a large field.

The gate was open and we pulled straight into the yard.

'You dont want to go in through the front door, do you?

I shook my head.

'Good, because I cant get it open. This way.

We divided up the buckets between us and I followed him into the house.

I remembered the mud room and its distinctive smell of old wet coats and rubber wellies. I was hurried through and straight into the kitchen.

'What ho, Mrs C! Buckets!

It was Mrs Crisp. She was still here. She was a little plumper and a little greyer and her eyes were a little more unfocused, but here was another one who didnt look a lot different.

I remembered how she used to bring us biscuits and juice and how I thought she smelled funny until Aunt Julia came back from a 'ladies lunch one day, and I realised it was sherry. She turned away from stirring something on the stove, wiped her red hands on a tea-towel, and came forward.

'Miss Dove, its very nice to see you again. She took my buckets off me, much to my relief.

I smiled and nodded.

'No time to chat, cried Russell, making for the other door. 'Come on, Jenny.

She rolled her eyes. I took back the buckets and followed him out.

'Something smells nice, I said to Thomas. 'Do you think theyll ask us to lunch?

He gave me a funny look. 'Im certain of it.

Up in the attics I carefully placed my buckets over the damp patches. There were depressing but oddly musical drips. Russell sighed. I looked up. Here and there, I could see tiny c.h.i.n.ks of daylight.

'Its not so bad, he said defensively. 'The tiles can stay on. The undersides need filling and a waterproof membrane putting across the joists and itll all be fine again. But not until the summer.

'Because of the weather? I asked, glad to show off a bit of knowledge.

'No, thats when the rents due again.

I must have looked surprised.

'I rent most of my land to my neighbour up the lane. For his sheep. He brings them down off the moors in winter and for lambing. For which I expect theyre extremely grateful. I know I am. Anyway, this years rent will see to this, he gestured to the roof. 'At the moment Ive got other things on.

I raised my eyebrows.

'Decorating. Ive got the central heating in; that was last years rent. Quite a bit more than last years rent, actually. But thats done, so at least were warm now. When I get the roof done thats pretty well the last of the structural work. Now Im going to slap on two coats of magnolia all over, polish up the floors, and thats it until a chimney blows down, or I discover dry rot or something equally s.h.i.+tty. Would you like the tour?

I nodded with enthusiasm.

'Come on then. He seized my wrist and I was whirled away.

We started downstairs.

The kitchen was a good-sized room with terracotta tiles. Dressers filled with china lined the walls. A huge table with mismatched chairs occupied the middle of the room. Unlike Aunt Julias carefully co-ordinated designer desert, everything here was warm, comfortable, shabby, and smelled delicious. There was a huge, old iron-type range that also provided hot water.

'Big walk-in pantry over there. Through that door is Mrs Cs domain. No one ever goes in there. She has all her past lovers chained to the walls. Sometimes at night, when its all quiet, you can hear their piteous moaning. Its so sad.

She flapped a tea-towel at him. 'Go away. Lunch in thirty minutes. To me. 'You do like lamb and apricot ca.s.serole?

'Am I staying to lunch?

'Told you, said Thomas.

'Sorry, Jenny, I forgot to tell you.

'No, Mrs Crisp said. 'You forgot to ask her.

'Yes, that too. Jenny, would you like to stay to lunch?

'Dont even think about saying no, muttered Thomas.

We looked into the dining room, a big, sad room with the shutters closed. Russell pulled one back so we could see better, but it wasnt worth the effort. He pushed it back again.

Across the corridor was a little morning room. This was much nicer, looking out over the very neglected garden, but much smaller and cosier. 'Do you eat in here?

'No, I usually eat in the kitchen. For a time I slept there too. I like to get value from a room.

In the old days, the next room would have been a parlour, but someone had knocked down a wall or two and it was now a very large room with two sets of old-fas.h.i.+oned French windows opening into the garden. A big wooden staircase at one end led up into the gloom. The wide fireplace was cold and empty. The furniture was drab and sad.. But it could be lovely. The floor had real wooden floorboards, and there was plenty of room on the walls for books and artwork. I could see this being a very nice room.

It never struck me that Russell Checkland was being uncharacteristically quiet, watching me take it all in.

There was another set of double doors near the stairs. I pointed.

'They lead to a small vestibule and the un-openable front door. Very useful for discouraging unwanted visitors. And up the stairs again we go.

The stairs were beautifully made and steady as a rock but they needed carpet. They were noisy and slippery.

'I know, he said, although I hadnt said anything. 'One day. In the meantime, just take care. I bet Julia doesnt know youre here, so if you fall I shall just dump your lifeless body at the side of the road and pretend I never knew you.

It seemed funny at the time.

At the top of the stairs there was a dog-leg. Down the shorter leg were two large bedrooms.

'Thats mine, he said, pointing down the corridor to the door at the end. There were three narrow steps leading up to it. I remembered last night and wondered if that was why he sometimes slept in the kitchen. Too drunk to cope with those little steps. He didnt offer to show the room to me. I suspected the bed was unmade and hed hung his socks and dirty underwear on the floor. Or maybe, of course, he had Francesca in there, stretched on out the bed, naked and demanding.

'Pull yourself together, said Thomas, and I did try.

I did get to see the other room and it was lovely. Care had been taken here. There were two tall windows with a large bed in between. Two built-in wardrobes flanked the fireplace which had one of those gas fires that looks like the real thing. A tall chest of drawers stood against one wall and a small dressing table against another. It smelled freshly cleaned. With paint and fabric it could be a very pretty room.

Had he prepared it for Francesca?

'And this is the best bit. Come and look.

He plunged forward like an estate agent on a combination of speed and commission. We went through a small door in the corner and down a little twisting stair of six steps. They opened out into a small but modern bathroom. Shower cubicle, bath, washbasin, toilet, it was all there.

'Isnt this great? We think it was a maids room, once upon a time. Or maybe a nursery. What do you think?

I looked around and smiled.

'Theres more.

Back up the stairs, through the bedroom, down the corridor, turn left at the top of the stairs. 'Three smaller bedrooms and a family bathroom.

I pointed to the door at the end.

'Oh, my studio. People dont really go in there. Are you hungry?

I nodded and we clattered back down the stairs. He kept a tight grip on my wrist until we got to the bottom.

Back in the kitchen, the table was laid. Mrs Crisp was on her way out with a cup of tea. 'Ill leave you in peace, she said, closing the door behind her.

I looked at Russell. 'She usually spends the afternoons in her room. You know lovers.

I nodded wisely.

He said no more, which was unusual for him.

Lunch was delicious with a slice of home-made cheesecake to follow. I sat back, feeling at peace and not a little sleepy.

'Thatll teach you to wake at the crack of dawn because youve got a date, said Thomas, unsympathetically.

'This is not a date.

'Oh, isnt it? Well, if youll excuse me, Im going to look out of the window now.

And he did. Apart from the rain there was nothing to see, so G.o.d knows what he was playing at.

Russell loaded the dishwasher while I made coffee.

'We can sit in the other room if you like, but I think its warmer and more comfortable here.

I nodded.

'So, what do you think?

'Not changed much. Bit more ... dilapidated. Lots of work.

'Mmm, he said. 'Mrs C said I wasnt to ask you this. In fact, shes been banging on about it since I first mentioned it to her, but I wondered would you like to lend a hand?

'Me?

'Yes, its not difficult. I thought if I do the sanding and preparation, you can come along afterwards with paint and roller and presto theres another room completed. Can you imagine how much better that bedroom would look with a bit of paint on the walls? Well put the radio on and have a good old sing-song at the same time. What do you think?

'Ive never actually ... painted anything before.

'Well, its not difficult. It cant be. Men do it. Say yes.

I remembered how I had felt only that morning, waking up with something to look forward to. It neednt be just for today. I could have that antic.i.p.ation again.

I nodded vigorously, smiling.

'You will? Thats great. Well get it done in half the time now. You dont have to worry. Youll just be doing the gentle stuff. Ill do all the hard work.

'Believe that and youll believe anything.

'OK. Ill pick you up at the usual place tomorrow.

We had a usual place!

'Shall we say ten oclock? Well give you lunch and Ill take you back around half three, four-ish. Leave your painty clothes here.