My Name is Eva(70)
‘I know my way,’ Evelyn said. ‘I know every single inch of Kingsley inside out.’ And as she crossed the threshold she was greeted by the instantly recognisable scent of the home she had known for over ninety years. She breathed in the timeless, ever-present smell of woodsmoke from the countless logs that had smouldered over the centuries in the inglenook fireplaces of the ancient house, seeping into every timber, every inch of plastered wall, the carpets and the curtains of every room, and she felt that she had come home at last.
‘I’m sure you do know your way round, Aunt. But it’s one thing being totally mobile and quite another when you’re not too sure of yourself. This old place is full of hazards. You just don’t notice them when you’re fit and well, able to skip about.’ She watched Evelyn negotiate the step and then they walked slowly but surely towards the kitchen.
‘I thought we’d sit at the table in here, where it’s warmer. I haven’t kept the range going, but there’s a small heater I found. We’ll have a coffee and then sort out the bits you want to take to the care home.’
‘I’d like to go upstairs first.’
‘Oh no, I’m not having you do that! Those stairs are far too narrow and steep. If I get you up there, I might never get you down again. No, we’ll stick to the ground floor, thank you very much. You know I didn’t even want to risk you coming here. You’re only just walking properly again.’
You didn’t want me to see what you’d been taking away or neglecting, you mean. ‘Well, all right, but before we go, I’d like to take a little walk around the gardens. Just for old times’ sake.’
Pat frowned. ‘I’m not sure. Maybe we could just look at the garden from the doorway. If you fall again, I’d never forgive myself.’
No, I bet you wouldn’t. That would be far too inconvenient and take up even more of your time. Such a nuisance for you, having to look after this beautiful house with its lovely furnishings and gardens, all held in trust for you and your family, such a dreadful nuisance. ‘Well, dear, I’ll just sit here then, and tell you what I’ll need.’ Evelyn manoeuvred herself around the table and onto a chair Pat pulled out for her. ‘Why don’t we have a little glass of sherry as well as coffee?’
‘Sherry? It’s not even lunchtime yet.’ Pat was clattering mugs and boiling the kettle on the range. ‘I don’t think there’s any in the house and anyway, I’m driving.’
‘What a pity. Are you sure there isn’t any here? Papa always kept a very good cellar. He was very fond of manzanilla. There must still be a bottle or two down there, surely?’
Pat turned to look at her aunt and shook her head. ‘You’ve got to be joking. It’s all gone. You never maintained the cellar. There’s nothing left down there now.’
‘What, all of it, Pat? All the wine, port and sherry? Who drank it then?’
‘I’m beginning to think you probably had most of it, the way you rabbit on sometimes. Here, have a biscuit.’ Pat plonked an opened pack of chocolate digestives on the table and two mugs of coffee.
‘Shouldn’t we put them on a plate?’ Evelyn peeled away the wrapper and parted the biscuits with her fingers, looking around the kitchen.
‘No, I’m not bothering with fine china and all that palaver. We’ll eat them out the packet.’ Pat broke a biscuit in two, crumbs falling onto the sweater, thick with pills of wool, curving over her stomach.
‘Well, I’d like to choose some sherry glasses to take with me,’ Evelyn said. ‘And maybe a decanter.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, what on earth do you need a decanter for as well? The bottle will do, won’t it? They all have airtight tops these days.’
‘Yes, dear, but a decanter looks so much nicer on a tray with glasses – so do biscuits laid out on a plate.’ She wondered whether to mention the sugar bowl, lumpy with coffee-soaked crystals. And it wasn’t the lidded pot she and Mama had always used for brown sugar. But she noticed Pat’s face and thought it better to be silent.
Pat glared. She dipped the other half of her biscuit in her coffee and nibbled. Melted chocolate coated her fingers and the corners of her mouth.
‘Please don’t do that, dear,’ Evelyn said. ‘It’s not very becoming.’
Pat groaned, then sucked her fingers and scrubbed her mouth with a tissue she found tucked up her sleeve. ‘I’m going to find your ruddy sherry glasses now.’ Her chair scraped back on the tiled floor and she disappeared into the dining room.
‘Not ruddy glasses, I want the ruby ones,’ called Evelyn.
And then she had a stroke of luck. Pat’s mobile phone rang. She must have put it down on the table while she was making coffee. ‘Pat, it’s your phone. Shall I answer it?’
Pat rushed back, flustered, holding a decanter missing its stopper. ‘No, leave it alone.’
‘I’ll just take a little look for those glasses myself then,’ Evelyn said, getting to her feet before she could protest. Pat tried to wave at her to sit down again, but was soon engrossed in her call. Evelyn shuffled out of the kitchen, through the dining room and out to the staircase. Could she really get up to the spare room and check the cases? It was a steep and narrow flight of stairs and then a long corridor to reach them. She thought she could remember what she had stowed away in them, but it was all such a long time ago, it was hard to be sure.