Page 53 of Lost Luggage
‘What aren’t you telling us?’ asked Flo and she put down her fork. Anushka did too.
‘Back in the seventies a single mum lived in the room opposite mine,’ said Fred. ‘She had a small child. That Easter Dolly and I decided to leave them a gift basket. Dolly made chocolate fairy cakes with iced chicks on top. My job was to dye boiled eggs – pretty but practical. Dolly read in a magazine that boiling them with red onion skins did the job. They looked brilliant and you could still eat them.’
‘I wanted a closer look when I arrived, so Fred threw one over for me to catch. He’d grabbed one without looking and it was a raw one. It hit the side of my head and smashed.’ They looked at each other and a warmth infused her insides; it wasn’t coming from the wine. Even Phoebe grinned and took a small bite of beef. The girls chatted about their skills builders badge, Leroy talked about work yesterday and how busy the pub’s chef had been with an Easter carvery, Dolly and Phoebe described all the bake-off’s hot cross buns. The bungalow had never housed so many voices.
‘I might try making them,’ said Leroy. ‘Steve mentioned they’re his favourite but he didn’t have time to buy any at the weekend. What’s the cross on the top made out of?’
‘Shortcrust pasty,’ said Dolly.
‘I could personalise them. Put an S on top.’
‘Wit woo,’ whispered Flo to Anushka and they two girls giggled. Phoebe joined in.
Leroy folded his arms. ‘Wit woo, nothing. He’s been good, taking me on at a drop of a hat, that’s all.’
‘I thought it was you doing him a favour,’ said Fred, with an innocent air.
‘I’d love to make them too,’ said Flo. ‘I could personalise two for Mum and Dad.’
‘Why don’t you all come around tomorrow evening?’ said Dolly. ‘I can get the ingredients in.’
‘I’m working but am free Wednesday,’ said Leroy.
‘We’re still off school this week, so can stay up late,’ said Flo. ‘I’d like to make a treat for my parents. The three of us sat down last night. I got out my notebook where I’d written everything Phoebe told me about university costs. I mentioned putting my name down for a paper round and showed them the websites for entomology courses I’ve researched. Several include a working year abroad on a research project, and I talked about the student Phoebe knew who had volunteered in Peru.’
‘And?’ asked Leroy.
Flo ate her last roast potato and put down her knife and fork. ‘They didn’t say that much but agreed a paper round was a good idea, and that a year abroad would look impressive on a CV and help a student get a good job after graduating. Then this morning, over breakfast, Mum said if I’m still serious in a couple of years’ time I can help out with cleaning jobs and get paid. They said I had to stop collecting insects in jars but for my next birthday, if I want, I can have wormery. I… I burst into tears. It wassoembarrassing, but I’ve always wanted one of those! And they are great for composting kitchen waste.’
‘Oh, love, well done for speaking up,’ said Dolly. ‘Well done to your mum and dad for listening, too.’
‘Mum had no idea insects could be useful and she was even more impressed when I told her honey can be used to fight bacterial and fungal infections.’
Whilst the girls and Phoebe insisted on tidying up, Phoebe promising to plait their hair later like hers, Leroy took a call from Steve and Fred and Dolly settled in the lounge.
‘Are you okay?’ she said. ‘Phoebe mentioned you’d been poorly.’
His face clouded over. ‘Is that what’s been the matter?’
‘She worries. It’s natural. But she seems okay now.’
Fred shot her a curious look.
‘We’ve aged, haven’t we?’ she said and smiled.
‘It’s not that,’ he mumbled and went to speak further but stopped, instead shuffling in the armchair. ‘I’ve enjoyed coming around. Thanks for the invite. And, Dolly…?’
‘What?’
‘You still look great.’
‘Right, shall I take a look in here?’ asked Phoebe, her face more luminous than when she’d been standing outside under sunrays. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind us rifling through belongings, Dolly?’
In a daze, Dolly nodded.Of course I still look great. I never thought I didn’t. Who are you to comment?
Dolly shot Fred a shy smile.
Oh, he’d lost some of his bluster, the fancy clothes, his hair had all but disappeared and his middle had filled out like hers, but he still had those spirited eyes, the kind manner, his caring side – the qualities Greta had never seen were more visible now, without the cocky manner and flash exterior. Grunting as he got up, Fred went over to the record player and leafed through the albums. Phoebe joined him and picked up the photo frame on top that was lying face down. She put it on the floor and asked which LPs belonged to Greta. She stacked them up – The Mamas and The Papas, Frankie Valli, The Beatles and Neil Diamond. One by one she pulled out each vinyl and checked in the sleeves, studying the covers for any handwritten notes. Dolly sat on the sofa going through the box file again. Fred suggested coffee as the hopeful mood in the lounge waned and left to make it. Phoebe put back the records and picked up the frame.
