The Age of Misadventure. Judy Leigh
lonely and can’t adjust to the present time. I’m immersed in the middle chapters. The radio is a tinny rattle of music in my ears. The eleven o’clock newsreader mutters something about rising crime rates and the high price of an average family house. I push my feet against the furry warmth of the hot-water bottle beneath my toes and I feel sleepy. I place the book gently on the floor on its front, switch off the radio and reach for the light. My phone buzzes an in-coming call and I pick up.
‘Hello. Bonnie. How are you?’
Her voice comes back as a whisper. ‘Georgie. I’m scared. There’s someone in the house.’
‘Huh? Tell Adie …’
‘Adie’s out. There’s someone downstairs. I’m in the bedroom.’ I can hear her breathing, a shallow rasp. ‘What shall I do?’
I sit upright, wide awake. ‘Are you sure? Did you Skype Demi?’
‘Yes, a few minutes ago. Then I heard someone moving about in the lounge and something fell or smashed. I don’t know what happened but someone’s definitely here. I’m scared.’
My thoughts race. ‘Are you on your own?’
‘Yes. Adie’s out until midnight, at a business meeting.’
I make up my mind at once. ‘Are you dressed?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can you get to the back door safely?’
‘No, but I could climb out of the window and onto the garage roof, grab the drainpipe, drop down to the lawn.’
‘Go now. Take your bag. Keep talking to me.’
‘Then what?’
‘Run to the road across the garden. Get in a taxi, drive into town. Call me.’
I hear her breath in ragged gasps. ‘Okay, I’m doing it, now.’
She’s left the phone on and at first I hear nothing, then a soft dragging sound, perhaps a window opening or a leg stretching, Bonnie climbing outside. A soft bump, silence, then she’s running. I’m holding my breath.
She gasps into the mouthpiece, ‘I think something awful has happened, Georgie. Someone’s broken in. I’m on the drive, my feet are wet – I’ll put my shoes back on …’ There’s silence, soft sounds, then she’s whispering into the phone: ‘I’m on the road now, looking up and down, but there’s no taxi. I was all on my own, Georgie. Adie left hours ago and said he’d be back late; there was a banging noise downstairs and … hang on. Taxi!’ There’s a pause, an engine. ‘Please, yes, the city centre – yes, of course, all that way. Please, quick as you can.’
There’s the gritty sound of a male voice in the background and her reply.
I whisper, ‘Are you all right, Bonnie?’
She breathes out. ‘Yes. I know someone was in the house. I could hear them moving. I can’t talk now.’
‘Bonnie. Do you have money?’
‘I have my card in my handbag. I don’t have a coat, though. I’m freezing.’
An idea pops in my head.
‘Go to the station. Jade’s coming back from Brighton. I’ll call her, tell her what’s happened. The station’ll be busy and it’ll look like you’re getting a train somewhere. Jade’ll meet you and you can come back here together. You’ll be better with people round you. Ring me as soon as you’re at Lime Street.’
‘Okay.’ Her voice trembles and then she’s gone.
My hands shake as I ring Jade. It takes her a while to pick up and at first she’s irritated with my babble, but I take a deep breath and explain.
She says, ‘Oh my God, Mum,’ and is silent.
‘Keep in touch, will you, Jade? And get back here as soon as possible.’
‘Right, Mum. I’ll be back soon with Aunty Bonnie.’
I breathe out. ‘I’ll get the kettle on.’
There’s a pause then Jade says, ‘That’d be nice. I could do with a chat before we go to bed.’ I can hear her thinking. I wait and then she says, ‘I have some news for you too, Mum. I think it’s going to be one of those nights.’
It’s past one o’clock. Bonnie’s hunched over a glass of brandy in the lounge. She’s in my favourite armchair, staring out of the French windows at the patch of lawn outside, wrapped in a thick dressing gown, my striped pyjamas and a pair of my old fluffy slippers. The bracelet still encircles her wrist, the little charms winking in the light. Jade’s in her cream coat, standing by the windows, frowning with her arms tightly folded. She reminds me so much of Terry.
‘Go on then, Mum. Tell me I’m being stupid.’
Bonnie’s face is anxious and tired, stripped of make-up. She bites her lip.
‘You have to follow your heart, love. It’s the only thing.’ She thinks for a moment. ‘But look where that’s got me. Well, maybe you’ll have more luck, Jade. Of course you will. I mean, Demi’s happy. She and Kyle are in Phuket. She sent me some pictures. I’m so glad she’s away from all this …’ Her face freezes. She’s thinking of Adie, of her escape in the taxi.
I stare from Bonnie to Jade and realise I haven’t spoken. I don’t know what to say to my daughter, which is unusual, so I just mutter, ‘I’ll support whatever you want to do, Jade.’
Her face clouds. I’ve said the wrong thing. ‘Can’t you just be happy for me, Mum?’
I slide from the chair and go over to her, wrap my arms round her. Her shoulders stiffen.
‘I’m happy for you, love. It’s only …’
‘You think it’s too soon?’ She pulls back and her eyes blaze.
I start to yawn and wish I hadn’t. She’ll think I’m bored. I’m so tired my bones ache.
‘Jade, you and Luis love each other. I can see why you want to move to Brighton to be with him. Of course. You’re smart, talented, sophisticated, beautiful.’ She rolls her violet eyes. ‘You’ll have a great life there. Of course I’m happy for you.’
Bonnie gives a dry laugh, but her face is sad. ‘You’ll be fine. You won’t mess up like your mum did. Like I’ve done.’
Tears start and she sucks the dregs from the brandy glass. I fill it halfway and she brings it to her lips. I offer a small glass to Jade and pour one for myself.
Jade sidles over to her. ‘You’ll be okay, Aunty Bonnie.’
Bonnie takes a breath and forces a smile. ‘I hope you’ll be lucky in love, Jade.’ She breathes out. ‘You’re off to start a new chapter of your life with your lovely young man. And I …’ A tear tipples from her eye and she dabs it away. ‘I’m about to end a chapter with my wicked old man.’ A laugh bubbles in her throat. ‘So, cheers to you and to me. In fact, cheers to all three of us.’
‘Bring it on,’ I grin and our glasses chime together.
Suddenly, there’s a rap at the door, loud and insistent. It can only be one person. Bonnie leaps up and runs off like a wild-eyed rabbit to hide upstairs, swiping her handbag from the table and, as an afterthought, taking her glass of brandy with her.
I tweak the door open. His face is grey in shadow.
‘Let me in, Georgie.’
I keep the door slightly ajar.
‘I’m in my pyjamas, Adie.