Page 9 of The House of Hopes and Dreams
Later I attended some classes at one of the art schools that had opened their doors to young ladies, in order to broaden my skills in painting, drawing and design. I felt sorry for some of the other girls, for they would never know the joy of painting with light as I did, not just with flat pigment.
Many of them, like my great friend Lily Stavely, hoped to learn skills that would enable them to earn a respectable living. Lily, the fifth child of a poor parson, had a flair for embroidery that she hoped would release her from the obligation to take a post as a governess or companion.
Not all our time was spent working or studying, and London offered many opportunities for entertainment. Together with some of Lily’s brothers and sisters and, often with my cousin Michael, whom Father was training up into the business, we spent many happy Sundays on excursions to the parks, and there were boating expeditions in summer and skating in winter. My girlhood was a very happy one.
4
Lost Voices
But when I finally tracked my iPhone down behind a sofa cushion, I discovered that Julian had been incapable of telling me anything since the Sunday we sailed for Anguilla, when he’d suffered a final, catastrophic stroke.
I knew there must be bad news the moment I plugged the phone into the charger and a million missed calls and text messages from Molly popped up, even before I listened to her voicemail gently breaking the news.
I called her straight away, cold and shivering with the shock, and she picked up as quickly as if she’d been standing by the phone waiting. Perhaps she had.
‘Molly – it’s me, Angel. I’ve only just heard your voicemail …’ I swallowed, unable to continue.
Her voice sounded thick and husky, as if she’d been crying. ‘Oh, Angel, I’m so sorry you had to get the news this way. I was afraid your phone might be broken and I couldn’t find another number to try.’
‘Jim suddenly decided we were sailing to Anguilla and in the scramble my phone got left behind … but Julian told me on Saturday not to keep checking up on him, so I decided to take him at his word,’ I said, only half aware of what I was saying.
‘Of course you did. He seemed fine, so there was no reason to think this would happen,’ she said comfortingly.
‘It takes around twelve hours to sail to Anguilla but the contact details for Jim’s yacht are in the big address book for emergencies,though I don’t suppose you knew that … and you didn’t know I was on it, anyway.’ I broke off, realizing I was gabbling inanely.
Then I took a deep, shaky breath and said, ‘I can’t believe it’s true. Please tell me what happened, Molly. Julian – didn’tsuffer, did he?’
‘No, not at all. The doctor said it must have been instantaneous,’ she assured me quickly. ‘It seems he’d gone down to the workshop very early on Sunday morning, but it never occurred to Nat and Willow that he wasn’t still asleep in his room until he hadn’t appeared by lunchtime. Then Nat rang us up to see if we knew where he was and Grant and I went over there and suggested we look in the workshop … And there he was, in the studio. He must have been sitting in his chair at the desk and just slipped down on to the floor. He’d been gone for hours by then, there was nothing that could be done.’
‘Déjà vu,’ I said, because it had been Grant who’d found him early one morning the first time, when he’d arrived to open up. Julian had been worrying about whether the kiln was firing properly and we thought he’d probably gone down in the early hours to check it.
‘He said he felt fine and could manage perfectly well without me. And all that medication he was on should have stopped him having any more strokes.’
‘It would help, but don’t forget they told you the outcome after the initial stroke would have been better if he’d been found quickly enough for him to have that special treatment,’ she reminded me. ‘It has to be administered within a short time after the stroke.’
‘Yes, I was just fooling myself recently that there was still some improvement, but I’m sure he knew it and that’s why his frustration was making him angrier every day. IknewI shouldn’t have left him,’ I added, anguished.
I felt transfixed with guilt. I hadn’t been there the first time he’d needed me, because I’d been in London, having won a competition to design a glass screen for a museum. And now I’d failed him again.
‘If I’d been home, I’d have known where he was,’ I said, though of course I’d have assumed he’d gone down there to get away from me again, and perhaps waited a while before following him. ‘I might have been in time to save him.’
‘Angel, they said even if someone had been there with him when it happened, he couldn’t have been saved,’ Molly said gently.
‘And think of poor Nat, finding his father like that,’ I said, suddenly. ‘I wonder if I should ring him. I mean, I know he’s always resented me, but at a time like this …’
‘I wouldn’t,’ she said. ‘I gave him your phone number and email, so I’d leave it up to him to contact you, but I’ll tell him I’ve broken the news.’
‘Do, and if you could say that I – I’m so devastated by Julian’s loss and understand how he must be feeling, too. I’ll be home as soon as possible. I suppose he’s still there, organizing everything, till I get back?’
I suddenly realized that it was already Thursday morning, so he’d had to cope alone since Sunday.
‘He’s here, but Willow had to return to London.’ She hesitated, then added slowly, ‘Angel …’
But I’d heard the villa door slam and the sound of Jim’s voice calling to Mum. ‘Look, Molly, Jim’s just come in so I’d better go and get him to book me a seat on the first flight home. I’ll let you know when he’s done that.’
‘Yes, do, and I’ll meet you off the plane,’ she offered.
‘Bless you,’ I said gratefully.
