In the kitchen Arthur purposefully gave Nathan longer to think about whether he wanted to talk or not. He always seemed to have so few words. Back in the sitting room he handed over the refreshed saucer with jammy dodgers and party rings.
“Party rings,” Nathan exclaimed. “I love those.” He then seemed to remember that it wasn’t cool to get so excited over iced cookies. “Okay, then, Tiger Man...you want to know what I want to do at college. Well, I want to bake cakes.”
Arthur digested this information. He took great care not to smile or look surprised. “Cakes?” he said without expression.
“Told you.” Nathan blew into his bangs. “When I told Mum she looked at me like I’d gone mad.”
Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think you’ve gone mad. I’m not judging you.”
Nathan gave a deep breath. “I know. Sorry about that. I like baking, though. Always have done. I help Mum in the kitchen sometimes. She tells me that baking is not a real subject, that I have to do something useful. When I speak to her she won’t listen. It’s okay for her to make her sausage rolls and her pies, but not me.”
“Baking is useful. You could be a chef, or own a cake shop...”
“Or have my own restaurant or range of products. I know this. She just doesn’t get it. She’s always so busy looking after other people.”
“She cares about you more than anyone.”
Nathan looked away. “I know. I suppose. Look, do you think that, er, you could have another word with her, Arthur? Get her on my side?”
“I don’t think she’d listen to me.”
“No. She would,” Nathan said quickly. “She thinks a lot of you. I can tell.”
Arthur felt his chest puff up a little. “I can try.” He nodded. Bernadette was asking him to be a good influence for her son, and now, vice versa, Nathan was asking for his help, too.
“Thanks. Do you mind if I ask you another question? I want you to be honest with me, though,” Nathan said.
Arthur lowered his teacup. “Yes, of course.”
Nathan rubbed his nose. “Is my mum going to die?”
Arthur spluttered. Tea slopped over the side of his cup and onto his lap. He leaped up and jerked backward, the tea spilling over his groin so it looked as if he’d had an accident. “Is she going to do what?”
Nathan spoke without any emotion. “I just want to be more prepared this time. When my dad died it was a shock. I found her hospital appointments...”
What hospital appointments? Arthur didn’t know anything about them. Bernadette hadn’t confided in him. When she visited it was always about him—how he was feeling, what he was up to. He never asked about her. “You really shouldn’t read other people’s things.” He dabbed at his trousers with a tissue.
Nathan shrugged. “She should have hid it better, not left them lying around. She has to go to the cancer unit. Is that what it is?” He didn’t wait for Arthur’s response. “I figured I should know more so I can look after her. But she thinks by keeping things secret that it protects me. But it just makes things worse. I thought that you’d know. She must have told you something...”
“No. Nothing.” Maybe if he had been here to listen. How had Bernadette put up with his maudlin moping around, his hiding from her? He had taken her for granted. “I think you need to speak to her,” he said quietly. “You should be honest with each other. Tell her how you feel about uni. Tell her that you’re worried about her. Have a proper conversation.”
Nathan stared into the bottom of his cup as if he was reading tea leaves even though Arthur made the brew with a tea bag. “I think I’d get upset. It would be so embarrassing. I don’t want her to see that.”
“She won’t mind. Please, just talk. I should have talked to my children more. I’m only just unraveling the past now. Don’t leave it as long as I did. You won’t regret it.”
Nathan nodded, taking in his words. He stood up. “Thanks, Tiger Man. You’re all right, yeah.” He directed a punch at Arthur’s arm, directly connecting with the tiger scratches.
Arthur smiled through the pain.
Later that day he went to the post office. Vera gave him a cheery wave as he entered. He asked if she had seen Bernadette that day but she reported that she hadn’t. However, she said, there was a new widow over on Bridge Street who was in need of feeding up so Bernadette was probably there.
*
When he got back to the house, Arthur found the red light flashing on his answer machine. He pressed the button and listened to the message.
“Tiger Man. I’ve looked up this Sonny Yardley person. It’s a lady! Anyways, not sure why I’m surprised by that. There are two on Facebook, but one is, like, eighteen. She has a nose ring and pink hair. I think the one you’re looking for is a lecturer at Scarborough College. She teaches jewelry. There’s not much else on her home page. It’s pretty basic. She only has five friends, ha, ha. Hope that helps. Okay. Laters.”
The Paint Palette
ARTHUR PHONED BERNADETTE that evening but there was no reply. He considered calling around but that might raise her suspicions and Nathan made him swear not to mention the hospital appointments.
She’ll probably be at her belly-dancing class, he told himself. He thought that actually she might look rather nice dressed in jewel colors and small brass bells, shaking off her worries. He wrote himself a note to phone her the next day.
While watching NCIS, which he rather enjoyed even though it was more grisly than it needed to be, he looked up the number for Scarborough College in the phone book. There wasn’t a number for a jewelry department listed but there was one for Art and Design.
He sat with the phone receiver in his hand for fifteen minutes before he plucked up the courage to make the call. When he’d phoned Mr. Mehra in India it had sparked the start of a long journey of discoveries about his wife’s life. Sylvie’s words about him not liking what he might find out rang in his head. If Miriam and Sonny were friends, why would he not like what he heard?
His heart thumped as he dialed the number. Don’t worry, there will be no one there at this time of evening, he told himself.
He expelled his breath when an answerphone message announced the college was open between the hours of nine and five and would he like to leave a message stating the department and person he wanted to contact.
He asked that Sonny Yardley phone Arthur Pepper as soon as possible. He left his home and mobile numbers.
At ten-thirty the next day, when he had received no reply, he left another message and then one at just past four, also. In between he rang Bernadette, but again she wasn’t there.
The day after that he decided to call around to Bernadette’s in person. When he left the house, Terry was mowing his lawn.
“How are things with your daughter, Arthur?”
“All good, thanks. We went to Paris for a long weekend.”
“Ah, yes, she said you had. It sounds fantastic.”
“She told you about our break?” Arthur frowned. He hadn’t realized that Lucy and Terry were acquainted. “When?”
“I bumped into her at school. I was looking after my niece and we got chatting.” He gazed off into the distance for a moment, then refocused on Arthur. “Is she coming ’round for tea soon, then?”
“Probably.”
“So, does she live far?”
“Oh. No. Not too far.”
“That’s good. It’s nice for family to live close together.”
Arthur nodded at the lawn. “Why do you keep mowing it?” he asked. “It doesn’t need doing that often.”
“No. It keeps me busy. I like things neat and tidy. My wife used to have me doing it this often, when we were together.”
“I didn’t know you were married.”
“We moved back up here from the Midlands and things didn’t work out. I’ve been divorced for over a year now. I’ve been single long enough. It would be nice to meet someone new to share things with. Is Lucy, er, with anyone at the moment?”
“She split up with her husband a while back.”
Terry shook his head. “That’s tough.”