Mad About the Boy Page 16

  I squeezed his hand and my eyes filled with tears. What had I done to deserve a friend like Percy? He squeezed my hand back and passed me a glass of deliciously cool water, holding my head up so I could drink it.

  I lay back blinking and when I looked up at Percy I saw he was looking at me with an expression of great concern. Crikey, I thought, I must be terribly ill.

  ‘What?’ I said to him. We knew each other so well, one word was often all we needed to communicate.

  ‘Who’s David?’ he asked quietly.

  I was puzzled.

  ‘I don’t know anyone called David …’ I started to say, then I remembered David Maier. ‘Why?’ I asked quietly.

  ‘When you were out for the count this afternoon,’ said Percy, ‘you were ranting and raving quite a lot and you kept saying “David, no. David, stop it.” It was quite distressing.’

  I did the only thing I could do. I burst into tears. When I had recovered sufficiently, I told him the story of my horrible encounter with David Maier at Suzy’s party.

  It was hard to tell it and I couldn’t look at him while I was doing it, but I felt better when I had. When I finally looked back at Percy I saw that he had tears flowing down his cheeks. He sat on the side of the bed and gave me a big, yet gentle hug.

  ‘My poor darling little Tess,’ he said, kissing my forehead. ‘I would like to have that bastard killed for what he did to you and if I were more of a man, I would go out and do it myself. But don’t worry about it any more. It’s all in the past, you’re OK and you have Percy here to look after you. I won’t leave you until I know you’re safe.’

  And he held me in his arms, a vague smell of lavender emanating from his black kaftan, until I sank back into a dead sleep.

  I stayed in bed for over a week. Although Percy did his best with tempting invalid meals, which he said were straight out of Mrs Beeton, I found it very hard to eat anything and even getting up to go to the loo made me light-headed.

  Tom came home and although it was lovely to see him I found his hectic energy exhausting.

  ‘Are you having a fatigue hump, Mummy?’ he asked me, lying next to me and gazing earnestly into my eyes. Then he jumped up and trudged round the room in a circle, singing a new song he had made up.

  ‘A hump, a hump, ahumpahumpa hump,’ he intoned, his shoulders slumped like someone very tired. Normally I would have found it hilarious, but in my clapped-out state it was all too much.

  It was like having Tigger bouncing around the room every time he came in to see me and after a couple of days Percy sent him to stay with Hugo and Greg. Like everything Percy did, it saved the day and was also a very politic move, because I was too knackered to object to him staying there and it was an important milestone for us all to get over.

  Hugo came to see me quite often, bringing some very nice flowers and a card from Greg. Dee called in every day on her way home from the shop, with bottles of exotic mineral water, exquisite pieces of fruit and the latest air freight magazines. She had a perfect bedside manner, which didn’t exhaust the patient, and knew exactly how long to stay. I could see Percy warming towards her with every visit.

  In the second week I felt well enough to get dressed, but not to leave the house. I spent most of my time lying on the sofa watching terrible daytime television. I tried to do needlepoint but it gave me an instant headache, as did reading.

  I was starting to eat a little and one night Percy invited Dee to stay for supper with us. I sipped some delicious chicken broth he had boiled up, using two very expensive organic chickens, and allowed the quiet prattle of their conversation to wash over me.

  In gentle tones, guaranteed not to stress me, Dee reassured me that everything was going well at the shop and said that she was quite happy to carry on minding it as long as I needed her to. Frankie didn’t mind, she said, he thought it was a suitably ladylike activity for her – and he said it kept her out of the other shops in Woollahra.

  Then Percy pulled one of his stunts.

  ‘Did you know Nikki’s Knacks has closed down?’ he asked Dee.

  ‘Well, I had noticed it hasn’t opened for a few days,’ she said.

  ‘Why don’t you two go into business together?’ he said casually, as he gathered up our plates. ‘With some capital input from you, Dee, the two of you could afford to lease that Queen Street shop, which is bigger than the current place, as well as being in an infinitely better location.’

  Dee and I looked at each other, our eyes wide open. It was just what I had planned to suggest to her.

  Percy fished around in the pocket of his leopardskin jeans.

  ‘Here’s the card of the estate agent who’s re-leasing it,’ he said, handing it to Dee and walking out of the room.

  Dee and I looked at each other again, waiting for the other to say something and then we both spoke together.

  ‘Go on, Antonia,’ she said, as we stopped again, laughing.

  ‘Well, would you like to come into business with me?’ I said. ‘I had been planning to ask you about it the day I got ill.’

  She looked really happy.

  ‘There is nothing I would like more, Antonia,’ she said. ‘I had been wondering if I could suggest it to you, but I didn’t know how to bring it up. It seemed a bit cheeky, but yes, I would love it.’

  I put my hand out and we shook on it.

  ‘Once I’m better, we can make it all official with a lawyer,’ I said. ‘But from now on I am quite happy to think of it as our business. I trust you to do what you think is right, while I’m not there.’

  Percy came back in to find us grinning at each other.

  ‘So that’s settled then, is it?’ he said. ‘Jolly good. Now who would like some nice milk jelly?’

  By the third week I felt well enough to go out on small expeditions and Dee drove me slowly up to the shop to make sure I was happy with the way she was doing everything. She’d had to change the window, as most of the winter display had been sold and I loved what she’d done instead.

  It was all pink and white and red with lovely twigs of quince blossom arranged in old white china jelly moulds – and knitted piglets she’d ordered specially from the CWA, walking around them in a circle. There was a set of red-and-white 1950s kitchen canisters and stacks of checked tea towels tied up with stripy ribbon. It was really charming.

  ‘Percy’s milk jelly gave me the idea for moulds. Do you think it works?’ she asked shyly.

  ‘It’s absolutely brilliant,’ I said, hardly able to believe I had found such a perfect business partner – who had immaculate good taste and stacks of cash to invest in the enterprise.

  With a little bit of negotiating coaching from Frankie, Dee had done a great deal on the corner shop lease and we were due to move into it in six weeks’ time, once all the paperwork was sorted out.

  It transpired that Nikki had refused to pay the last two months’ rent, claiming the landlord had been negligent about some cooked-up problem with the drains, which she asserted had made a bad smell affecting custom, so it was not the simple handover it could have been. But as far as we knew, she didn’t know it was us who was taking over, or I’m sure she would have made it even harder.

  It felt good to be out in the world again, but I still felt very weak and woozy. Loud noises startled me and if I did anything too strenuous I came out in a muck sweat and waves of vertigo took me over. I didn’t feel safe crossing the road on my own, because I wasn’t sure where my foot ended and the world began.

  It was a very strange sensation, which my doctor said was caused simply by stress and exhaustion – and working-out in the middle of the night, practically seven nights a week, probably didn’t help either when I wasn’t used to that much physical activity. He also thought losing weight as quickly as I had would not have been great for my system either. I didn’t tell him I’d been practically starving myself. I’d learned my lesson about that.

  At the end of the third week, I was lying on the sofa at home dozing when the phone
rang. It was James from the gym. I was so surprised to hear his voice the power of speech deserted me.

  ‘Are you all right, Antonia?’ he asked. ‘I was wondering why you hadn’t been in for so long and then I heard you’ve been really sick. I got your number off the computer here, I hope you don’t mind.’

  My heart was pounding, as though I had one of my dizzy attacks coming on. I could tell I was blushing and I felt as embarrassed as if I had actually done all the filthy things to him that I had done in my dreams.

  ‘Of course I don’t mind,’ I said weakly. ‘It’s incredibly nice of you to call, James. I should have let you know why I wasn’t coming in … I’m sorry.’

  ‘Hey, don’t worry about that, I just wanted to know you’re OK.’

  ‘Well, I have been quite ill actually,’ I said. ‘Nothing fatal, it seems I just collapsed with exhaustion. The last eighteen months or so have been a bit of a strain on my system.’

  ‘Gee, I’m really sorry to hear that, Antonia. I hope I didn’t work you too hard on the machines here, but you seemed to be getting really strong.’

  ‘I think my body was getting stronger, but I had overdrawn on my emotional account to such a degree it all just collapsed.’

  ‘You exhausted your chi, Antonia,’ said James, getting onto his favourite subject. ‘It’s precious stuff, as I told you. Well, I wish you better and if there’s anything I can do, just call me at the gym. And when you’re well enough, come in again and I’ll show you some really gentle chi gong moves that will build up your energy reserves again.’

  ‘Thanks, James. I’ll do that. And thanks for calling, it was really nice of you.’

  ‘No worries. Oh, and listen – drink a lot of water. OK? And breathe.’

  ‘I promise. Goodbye, James.’

  I was really touched he’d taken the trouble to ring and collapsed back onto the sofa. Twingeing slightly. I must be getting better, I thought.

  That night Percy arrived home with Tom and Dee in tow. They’d been over to our favourite Thai take-out in Redfern and had brought me some wonderfully fragrant soup. I must have been getting better, because the delicious smell was making my tummy rumble.

  Tom came running in and threw himself on the sofa beside me.

  ‘Are you over your hump, little Mummety?’ he asked and I told him I was. ‘Oh good,’ he said, springing up. ‘Now I can show you my new dance.’

  He capered around the room scissoring very straight arms and legs and making barking noises.

  ‘Do you know what that is, Mummy?’ he asked me. I shook my head. ‘It’s The Biggest Spotty Dog You Ever Did See – Percy taught it me. It used to be on the telly in England.’

  ‘Taught it to me. That’s very good, Tom. I like it better than the hump song.’

  Dee and Percy came in with the soup and Tom started jumping up and down again. After having him out of the house for a couple of weeks I’d forgotten the sheer impact of his energy.

  ‘Guess what, baby?’ he said, striking an Austin Powers pose he must have acquired during his stay at Hugo’s house. ‘I nearly forgot because I was showing you my spotty dog – we went to Dee’s house today and she’s got a helicopter in her garden called a chopper and I went in it and Dee said I can have a ride in it one day really soon. Dee’s husband is called Frank and he said I can hold the joystick. He’s really nice. He gave me a Chuppa Chup. Toffee banana.’

  ‘Good heavens, Tom,’ I said. ‘What a lucky boy. A helicopter and a Chuppa Chup, fancy that.’

  I looked at Dee who was smiling sweetly at Tom, but looking a little embarrassed as well. I’d never been to her house, but it seemed Percy and Tom had and I did feel a little cheesed off.

  Percy turned round from the dining table, where he was laying the food out.

  ‘You should see Dee’s house, Antonia,’ he said. ‘It’s frightfully grand. Has its own beach and jetty. All completely private.’

  I noticed he hadn’t mentioned Frankie. I was longing to know what the great mystery man was like – and if Tom had met him, Percy must have too, but clearly he didn’t want to talk about him in front of Dee. Interesting.

  We sat down at the table and Percy filled our bowls with soup.

  ‘Now,’ he said, when we were all settled. ‘We have a little surprise for you, don’t we, Dee?’

  She looked a little shy and passed me a set of keys. I looked at them questioningly.

  ‘We both think you need to take a break,’ said Percy. ‘To go away and have a complete rest from everything, on your own, and Dee happened to mention that she and Frankie have a little beach house up in Byron Bay that would do the trick.’

  I looked at Dee. She nodded encouragingly.

  ‘Those are the keys,’ she said.

  ‘Tell her about the chopper,’ said Tom excitedly, squirming in his seat.

  ‘Frankie wondered if you would like to be flown up there in the chopper,’ said Dee. ‘It would be much quicker than flying to Ballina. He says it just sits around most of the time and it would be good to give the pilot some practice.’

  All I could do was beam with gratitude.

  When Dee was gone and Tom was in bed, I insisted Percy tell me everything about Dee’s house and the mysterious Frankie. I hadn’t felt so excited about anything since I’d fallen ill.

  ‘How on earth did you get in there?’ I asked. ‘I’ve known Dee for ages now and I’ve never got anywhere near her house, or Frankie, she’s so cagey about everything.’

  Percy waggled his head from side to side the way he did when he was pleased with himself about something.

  ‘Oh, you know,’ he said. ‘You just have to be clever about these things. Dee doesn’t have children, Dee adores Tom, Tom would love to see inside a helicopter … it wasn’t hard, Ant, darling. You just didn’t try hard enough.’

  ‘Oh all right, you wily old fox, now tell me everything. What’s the house like, what’s the boat like, what’s famous Frankie like? Spill.’

  Percy sucked his teeth, relishing the suspense he was keeping me in. Then he leaned over conspiratorially.

  ‘The house is …’ he paused for dramatic effect. ‘Apsolyootly heinous.’

  My mouth dropped open in surprise.

  ‘How can it be?’ I said. ‘She’s got such good taste. You’ve seen that gorgeous red and white window she’s done for the shop and she’s bought so much great stuff from Anteeks, I don’t see how it can be horrible.’

  ‘Frankie,’ said Percy, nibbling a rose cream. He’d discovered a source of his favourite delicacy – rose and violet cream chocolates – in Sydney and one or two after dinner was part of his daily ritual.

  ‘Frankie pankie could make Blenheim Palace ugly just by being in it,’ he continued. I waited for him to expand. ‘He’s what you might call a rough diamond, with the emphasis on rrrrrrough. It’s a lovely old house – what they call Federation – but Frankie’s taste and Frankie’s interests clearly rule. Apart from some lovely flower arrangements, there isn’t a sign of Dee in the place. It’s all conspicuous consumption of the grossest kind.’

  ‘I want more detail,’ I said, reaching for a violet cream myself.

  ‘OK,’ said Percy, settling cosily into story mode. ‘You arrive and there is an electric gate with an intercom. You buzz and the guard lets you in. All very Lady Penelope. I rather liked that bit. There are signs everywhere with large slavering Alsatians on them. You go down the drive and the first thing you see is a long curving line of garages – about eight of them, all with the doors open so you can see the cars inside. There was a beautiful old open top Roller like my friend Basher Ponsonby had at Oxford and all kinds of pointy red Italian monstrosities.’

  I lay back on the sofa, to take it all in.

  ‘The house is what we would think of as the Edwardian style – as I say, Federation – in lovely old stone with Virginia creeper or some such all up the front. Very Sussex, really nice. A maid opens the door and from then on it’s shag-pile hell. Dee clearly didn’t want
me to go in, she was trying to lead us round the side and straight out to the chopper, so I pulled the old loo stunt and then got “lost” when I came out. Always works like a charm.’

  He picked up another chocolate and continued between bites. He always nibbled the chocolate casing off first and then slowly licked the fondant.

  ‘The reception rooms have lovely proportions, with big windows looking out over the Harbour – it would really be hard to think of a nicer family house – but the decor defies belief. It’s that kind of decorating where an almighty amount of money is spent to achieve an unbelievably cheap effect.

  ‘The light fittings are like something out of a 1980s bistro, all varnished brass curly wurlies and there are three enormous cut moquette sofas. The main objet d’art in the drawing room is a television – which had horse racing on it – although there are a few mawkish prints in over-elaborate frames. There’s also quite a collection of Lladró on smoked-glass shelves.’

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ I said. ‘No wonder she didn’t want me to go there. Now tell me about Frankie.’

  Percy paused, clearly looking for the right words to do him justice.

  ‘Imagine every dodgy scrap-metal dealer, tarmac layer, crooked builder and barrow boy you have ever met, multiply them all to the power of n and you have Frankie. His face is as craggy as the Peak District. I think he is what the Australians call “as rough as guts”. But, of course, fantastically charismatic as well. It was like shaking hands with a crocodile, huge leathery paws, very dry and very strong. Lots of gold jewellery and hair dyed a frisky auburn. He was wearing white shoes.

  ‘But, I have to say, he clearly adores Dee. He’s so proud of her. My little queenie, he calls her and he was charming to us. Made Tom a huge Coca Cola cocktail in an enormous brandy glass with umbrellas and pineapple and cherries hanging off it. Sat him up on the bar – which is the full monty with optics, beer taps and the lot – while he made it. Very sweet. Insisted on opening a bottle of Bolly for me, then served it in a wine glass, full to the brim. He’s very generous, very warm and would crack your head like a walnut if you crossed him.’