‘I can do it myself,’ Hilary muttered, looking over her shoulder to the houses on the other side of the road, worried perhapsthat her neighbours might see her in this uncharacteristically dishevelled state.
Once inside, and after kicking off her wet shoes and removing her sodden cashmere coat which had done little to protect her from the heavy downpour of rain, Hilary seemed to regain some of her former self and insisted she could go upstairs on her own to change.
Nina watched her climb the stairs, one slow step at a time, her hand on the banister. When she’d reached the landing and crossed it to go to her bedroom, Nina went into the sitting room and started work on getting a log fire going. The house didn’t feel cold, the central heating must have come on, but if nothing else the effect of a real fire would be a comfort.
Putting the fire guard in place, she then went back out to the hall and into the kitchen to put the kettle on. There she was met with a sight she never dreamt she would ever see at The Maples. It looked like nothing had been put away or cleaned in a very long time. There was a foul smell coming from somewhere and after tracking it down to the bin, she lifted out the offending and overflowing bag and holding it at arm’s distance, she took it outside to the bin store. The black bin was full, and Nina had a hard job squeezing the bag into it. Had Hilary been forgetting to put the bins out, as well as not bothering to clean the kitchen?
Nina felt awful now that she hadn’t made more of an effort to check in with Hilary. It was weeks since she had spoken to her. The last time had been to tell her mother-in-law that the embryos at the clinic were going to be destroyed. There had been no contact between them since.
So what had been going on in the intervening weeks to push Hilary over the edge and lead her to do the unthinkable today, to shoplift in John Lewis? All things considered; she’d been lucky to be let off so lightly.
The security guard who had witnessed Hilary stealing a Babygrofrom the baby department had been very understanding. ‘We’ve seen it before,’ the man had told Nina in a quiet voice, ‘women getting on in years and who … well … you know … lose touch with reality.’ He’d tapped the side of his head as if that explained and justified everything. It’s the shame, that’s what always gets them, and distresses them, when they suddenly realise what they’ve done and what people will think. My old gran did it once, got herself in a right old state after my granddad died. She nicked a load of chocolate bars, couldn’t help herself. Anyway, your mother-in-law mentioned you, so I accompanied her here, just to make sure she was okay. I did the right thing, didn’t I?’
‘Of course,’ Nina had said. ‘Absolutely. And thank you for being so good about it.’
Back in the kitchen she washed her hands and contemplated where to start with tidying up but decided it could wait until she’d made a pot of tea. Which was a challenge as she couldn’t find any clean mugs and the teapot was nowhere to be seen.
Eventually she found it buried under a pile of used hand towels and after washing a couple of mugs, she opened the fridge for some milk. There was one carton of milk, but the shelves of the fridge held nothing more than a tub of spreadable Lurpak, a couple of wrinkly apples, a piece of cheese that looked dried out and an opened bag of withered carrots.
There was work to be done here, thought Nina. Hilary reaching out to Nina, of all people, had to represent a significant and desperate cry for help.
What was more, Keith needed to know what was going on. He might have imagined he’d cut himself free from his wife, but he would have to step up and pitch in.
Chapter Forty-One
Hilary was exhausted. She was sick with tiredness at the whole futility of her life. More than anything she wanted to get into bed, pull the duvet up over her head and sleep away the shame of what she’d done. Or rather the shame of being caught for what she’d done. Until today, she’d always got away with it. She must have been careless on this occasion, made her move too clumsily.
She knew it was a compulsion she had, a desperate way to ease the pain of her loneliness. When the impulse made itself felt, there was nothing she could do to stop it. Compelled to act, she would drive into town and head straight to John Lewis or wherever else that sold baby clothes.
Today she’d made a beeline for the selection of prams and pushchairs in John Lewis, asking an assistant to let her try some out to see how they handled. She’d made a little joke about sounding like she wanted to buy a new car and take it for a test drive. She’d explained that she was researching prams because she’d promised to buy one as a present for her son and daughter-in-law. The assistant had smiled brightly and remarked how lovely it was when grandparents-to-be did this, especially as prams were so expensive these days.
‘When is the baby due?’ the assistant had asked.
‘Quite soon,’ Hilary had replied proudly, enjoying playing therole. ‘It’s a boy. He’ll be the spitting image of his father; I just know it.’
This was the best part, being able to talk about Hugh and describe how much he was looking forward to being a father and how excited she was to be a grandmother. In those precious moments it felt so very real, as though Hugh was still alive with the rest of his life ahead of him. In those moments, the pain of her grief was gone, and she was happy. Just like she used to be. Before her world had ended.
When she’d thanked the assistant for her help, she had wandered off to complete the real reason she was here. She could hardly walk out of the shop with a pram, not when it would set off any number of alarms, but an item of clothing would be easy and safe.
She’d had a difficult time deciding what to take, there were so many lovely things and the temptation to help herself to more than one item was overwhelming –because why not, why not have double the pleasure?– but she had resisted. The item she’d slipped into her bag had been a blue-and-white-striped Petit Bateau body suit. Practically identical to the ones Hugh had worn as a baby, it had brought back so many wonderful memories of him as an infant, fresh out of the bath and smelling as sweet as a summer peach.
The surge of emotions she’d then experienced as she prepared to leave the shop fizzed through her and gave her the sensation of walking on air. It was a delicious feeling and added to the prospect of imagining how, when she was home, she would hold the bodysuit to her face, rub the soft fabric against her cheek while breathing in the newness of it and imagine being a mother all over again and cradling Hugh.
She’d been so lost in the fantasy that initially she hadn’t realised the man was addressing her. He’d appeared out of nowhere and her first thought was that he reminded her of a Jack-in-the-boxtoy Hugh had loved as a toddler. Oh, how he’d laughed when the lid had sprung open, and the clown had jumped out on its bendy spring. He did that every time, laughed like a gurgling drain whenever she tapped on the lid and made the clown appear.
But with her stomach lurching in alarm, she’d realised that the man who had sprung out on her wasn’t going to make her laugh. Instead, she’d known in an instant what his job was, it was to catch shoplifters, like those awful hooligans she’d read about in theDaily Mailwho stormed into shops and stripped the shelves bare. She wasn’t like that. She wasn’t some common thief. She hadn’t stolen anything, not really. She’d only borrowed what she’d taken. She’d always planned one day to give everything back. Or maybe donate the clothes to a charity. That would make everything right, wouldn’t it?
When the security guard had asked to see inside her bag she’d tried telling him that she’d simply got into a muddle and forgotten to pay for the Babygro. She’d told him that she would go straight back upstairs to the baby department and put things right. He’d surely believe a respectable woman like her? But at the serious expression on his face, she didn’t think she was going to get away with that and the shock of what might happen next, that the police would be called, filled her with horror and her legs began to tremble and then shake so much she thought she was going to fall to the ground. The man had reached out to her and held her arm firmly, which only increased her fear that he was going to march her off to a back room where she would be duly arrested.
Picturing the mortifying scene, she’d thought of her darling Hugh and what he would think of her. That she had come to this. She’d begun to cry and once she’d started, she couldn’t stop. People were staring at her now and that made her cry all the more and she just wanted to curl up on the floor and die. That was when the security guard had taken her away to meet her fate.
But the police weren’t sent for. A woman with a kind face sat her in a chair and handed her a box of tissues, and when Hilary had calmed down enough to speak, she’d apologised for what she referred to as her confusion. She’d blamed it on the death of her son, saying that she hadn’t been coping well and she was sorry for the trouble she’d caused. She’d promised it was the first time she’d ever done anything like this, and it would never happen again; she couldn’t be more ashamed.
The woman must have taken pity on her. ‘I can see how upset you are,’ she’d said, ‘and I don’t know how you came into town today, but if you drove in, I wouldn’t advise you drive yourself home right now. Is there someone I can telephone to come here for you? Your husband perhaps?’
Hilary had shaken her head at that. ‘There’s no one,’ she’d murmured.
Hearing herself say this had brought on a fresh wave of tears and self-pity. How had she reached such a pathetic state that she was so entirely abandoned with no one to turn to? Her husband had left her; her friends no longer wanted to spend time with her, she couldn’t blame them, not when she didn’t really want to spend time with them, and even her family had distanced themselves after the way she’d behaved at Fabian’s wedding. Her sisters had lost patience with her, particularly Lindsay who had been the most hurtful, describing her as unhinged and in need of professional help.
