EPISODE THIRTY-NINE
Alone in his sister’s house, Craig
noticed a newly hung photograph of Gary
on the wall by the breakfast bar. He
scowled at it.
‘Oily
git!’ he blurted out; then grinned and added,
‘But thanks for the chip shop, Gary.’
The
kettle boiled and he made two cups of instant coffee.
Minutes later, Maggie arrived.
‘Kids
go to school without any problems?’ he asked.
She
nodded thoughtfully. ‘They’re better now
they’ve settled back into a routine.’
She looked her brother up and down.
‘Craig, I hope you don’t mind me saying this – I hope you won’t take it
the wrong way...’
‘What?’
‘Well,
we are seeing a solicitor. Couldn’t you
have worn something a bit smarter?’
He
took his coffee mug and sat on a stool by the breakfast bar, glaring at her
defensively. ‘I’ve only got casual
gear.’
‘You
wore a suit to the funeral.’
‘Oh
that! got it from the Hospice
Shop. It’s still in a heap on the floor
where I left it.’
‘Well, you could
at least...’ She avoided looking at him. ‘At least roll your shirt sleeves
down.’
‘Do my tattoos
embarrass you?’
‘It’s not that.’
‘What then?’
She glanced at
her watch and changed the subject. ‘Gary’s
estate’s going to take months to sort out.
But I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t be running your own chip
shop right now. It’ll be your
responsibility, and you’ll own it eventually.’
Craig gave her a
warm smile. ‘It’ll be the best chippie in the south east.
Who’s running the others?
I mean, won’t you find it difficult, what
with having the kids to look after?’
Maggie stared
into her coffee. ‘I’m selling the others.
And, if anything, I’m taking on a bigger commitment.
A full time headache, probably.’
She giggled self-consciously,
turned away and poured her remaining coffee into the sink.
‘Well come on –
don’t keep me in suspense. What are you
up to, Maggs?’
She rinsed her
mug under the hot tap, placed it on the draining board, then swung round to
face him again, suddenly keen to share her plans with him.
‘I haven’t told
anyone yet, Craig – you’re the first to know.
I’m planning to open a wine bar...here in Tunbridge Wells.
I’ve found the premises I want.
I’ll have to apply for a license, of course,
but I don’t see any reason why I should get turned down.
So what d’you think?’
‘I think it’s a
brilliant idea.’
‘Do you?
You’re not just saying that?’
‘No, I think
it’s a great idea. But I don’t think you
ought to go it alone. Hey! I’ve just had
an idea.’
Frowning, as if
she could guess what was coming, Maggie crossed the room to collect a pink,
cardboard file from a pile of clutter on the pine dresser.
‘I mean,’
continued Craig, ‘once you’ve given me the chippie – officially I mean – I
could sell it, buy a share in your wine bar and help you run it.’
‘No, I don’t
think it’d work.’
‘Why not?’
‘I just don’t.’
Craig stood up,
staring closely at his sister. When he
spoke, his voice was quieter, feeling he was about to be hurt.
‘You haven’t given me a reason, Maggs.
I mean, we get on okay, don’t we?’
She nodded
slightly but avoided looking at him.
‘So why
not? Give me a good reason.’
She studied her
brightly painted fingernails closely and said, ‘It’s like this, Craig – I want
this wine bar to be smart. Special. To attract the right sort of customers.’
‘Oh!
And I’m not good enough, is that it?’
She forced
herself to look him straight in the eye.
‘We get on great guns – we always have done.
But there was a time we disagreed violently.
Remember why?’
He held his arms
out angrily. ‘They’re only tattoos,
Maggs. They won’t contaminate your
customers.’
‘I know they
won’t. That’s not the point..’
‘The point is:
you’re still a snobby little cow.’ Craig
raised his voice, pointing at Gary’s
photograph. ‘It never occurred to me
before: what a perfect match you two were.’
Maggie’s eyes
flashed and Craig held his hands palms up towards her.
‘Okay.
I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to
upset you. I might lose the chip shop.
‘I wouldn’t do
that to you, Craig. I wouldn’t go back
on my word.’
‘I know you
wouldn’t,’ Craig mumbled miserably. ‘I
don’t know why I said it. I was just
upset because I can see my life mapped out for me.
I know exactly what I’ll be doing in ten
years’ time.’
‘Most people
do.’
‘Yeah, great life,
ain’t it?’
Maggie tapped
her watch. ‘We’re due at the
solicitor’s. We’d better go.
Cheer up, sweetheart.
A fish and chip shop’s a safer bet.
In a few years I might be coming to you, my
tail between my legs, to borrow some money.’
‘No, I’ve got a
feeling you’ll make a go of it. And I
promise, whenever I come into your wine bar, I’ll wear a long-sleeved shirt.’
*
Marjorie had just left for her
habitual Monday morning jaunt to see Freda at Ramslye when the doorbell
rang. Ted thought she must have forgotten
something. But when he opened the front
door, the shock he had was like a punch in the stomach.
‘Donald!
What are you doing here?’
Donald’s
voice shook. ‘I’m sorry, Ted, I had to
come round. I...I needed someone to talk to.’
Ted’s
eyes darted to Mount Ephraim.
Marjorie hadn’t yet rounded the corner.
If she happened to look back...
‘Quick!’
Ted grabbed Donald and pulled him inside.
‘You must have walked right by Marjorie.
She’s only just left.’
Donald
showed his friend the clipboard he was carrying.
‘I didn’t want to make things awkward for
you, so I...’
Ted
slammed the door shut. ‘Let’s go through
to the kitchen. I’ll make you a coffee.’
Donald
followed him. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve
got anything stronger?’
‘Only
cream sherry.’
Donald
pulled a face. ‘Coffee’ll be fine.’
Ted
switched the kettle on. When he turned
to face Donald, he noticed there were tears in his friend’s eyes.
‘How’s
Bamber?’
‘He’s
had the operation, poor kid. It’s not
looking good. His mother’s with
him. But it’s not Bamber.
It’s just a lump of breathing flesh, wired up
to all sorts of...’
Donald
broke off and slumped into a chair at the head of the kitchen table.
His clipboard fell onto the floor.
‘If
there’s anything I can do,’ began Ted, then stopped, suddenly alert as he
thought he heard a key in the front door.
The latch clicked, followed by footsteps and the sound of the door
closing.
‘Oh
God!’ whispered Ted. ‘It’s her!
It’s Marjorie!
She’s come back.
She must have forgotten something.’
IN EPISODE FORTY
Donald meets Ted’s wife at last and
Nicky and Savita come up with a plan to deal with Malcolm.