‘I know I’m being lied to because a woman stopped at the nurses’ counter and the nurse told her there was an elderly woman in the ICU who would need to talk to her when she woke. So, I followed the woman down the hall and asked her what her speciality was.’
‘And?’ I asked.
‘She was a psychologist. They give you a psychologist if you’re suicidal.’
‘They must have been talking about some other old woman.’
I have no real excuse for lying to my mother, except that Miriam likes to gather village information and deal it out like candy to those deserving village serfs who please her best. Mary’s instinct to withhold this information until we know more feels sensible.
Miriam had departed the bookshop in the middle of a tantrum about the attention Phyllida was ‘obviously trying togarner for herself with this little stunt’, after which, I had emailed Mary.
Now I check my laptop to see if she has responded. The reply makes me flush with mortification as I realise my error.Who else had I accidentally included in the email chain?I click into my sent emails and see I have sent the email to ‘Mary and Phyllida’s Last Chapter’—a book club organised by Mary and my grandmother. It comprises a dozen or more villagers who meet at the bookshop on the last Tuesday night of each month to discuss whatever books have been selected. One person is on duty for snacks, and everyone brings their drink of choice (home brew for Mary, wine for most of them, and tea or an occasional gin and tonic for Phyllida). I scan the responses while swearing at myself for being an incompetent dickhead.
From:Lottie Peters-Banks
To:Mary and Phyllida’s Last Chapter
Subject:F#@*ing Miriam
Hi Mary
Just had an infuriating visit from Mum who is on her high horse about Phyllida getting too much attention in hospital. For god’s sake, Phyllida is barely alive! I can’t understand what my cow of a mother’s problem is.
I need a break from her so I’m going to move into Phyllida’s place for a while. She won’t mind. Do you have the spare key? I’ll come down after work.
Love Lottie
From:Mary Penhallidon
To:Lottie Peters-Banks
Subject:re: F#@*ing Miriam
Lottie you’re a dag.
Did you mean to copy the book crew in on that email? Don’t reckon!
Key under pot plant next to the blow-up dancing Santa and the flashing pink snowman I put outside Phyllida’s front door. The place needed cheering up while she’s in hospital.
From Mary
From:Judy Dingle
To:Lottie Peters-Banks
Subject:re: F#@*ing Miriam
Hello Lottie dear,
I think you accidentally emailed the whole book club an email meant for Mary? I’ve asked Patty to delete it. I can ring around the others if you like?
Just a request, dear. I note you are moving into Phyllida’s house. The dreadful Christmas decorations that Mary put up yesterday at Phyllida’s front door are bringing down the tone of the village, don’t you agree? The lights flashed all night and kept me awake too. I sleep with the blind open to welcome the dawn naturally, but I’m worried the flashing will trigger a migraine. Would you mind taking them down? Or at least unplugging them?
Regards, Judy
From:William Wanster
To:Lottie Peters-Banks
