The Last List of Mabel Beaumont

‘Yes, I did. And that means it’s not going to be easy, but it doesn’t mean we give up. A lot of things aren’t easy, Mabel. You’re surely old enough to know that.’

I am. In my experience, very little is easy. But some days, I think about what it might be like if I’d never started this. If I just concentrated on these new friendships that have sprung up, the new lease of life these women have given me, instead of seeking out the woman who brought me to life back then. Things change, over the years, and it’s possible that Dot isn’t the woman I knew, now. Can’t I just delight in these women I have around me, right now? Why isn’t that enough?

You know why, I tell myself.

A door opens upstairs and Julie puts a hand on her heart. ‘Is someone here?’

‘Yes, Erin’s here.’

‘Oh. Does she… live here now?’

I don’t know how to answer that. Erin appears, in fleecy checked pyjamas, and waves good morning to us both before going to the kitchen to make tea.

‘She’s staying here,’ I say. ‘I’m not sure how long for.’

‘And do her family know where she is?’

‘They do,’ Erin says, poking her head around the door. ‘Can I get either of you a cup of tea or coffee?’

‘Tea please,’ I say. ‘And Julie will have one too. She’s ready for a break.’

‘I’ve only been here twenty minutes!’

‘Still.’

Julie does this kind of whisper talking to me in the front room while Erin makes the drinks.

‘I just want to be sure she’s not taking advantage of you, that’s all.’

‘She isn’t,’ I say. I don’t raise my voice but I’m firm, all the same.

‘I mean, you haven’t known her for very long.’

‘I haven’t known you for very long either.’

She doesn’t know what to say to that, and then Erin appears again with the drinks.

‘Look,’ she says, putting one mug down on the windowsill for me and the other on the coffee table for Julie. She’s got the strength just right, like she always does. ‘I know you’re concerned about Mabel, that you’re being a good friend to her. I haven’t moved in. I just needed to be away from my parents for a while and Mabel was kind enough to offer me a room. I won’t be staying much longer.’

Hearing it is like a punch. It’s only been a few days but I’ve got so used to having someone in the house again. She’s a late riser, so we don’t have breakfast together, but she often brings me a cup of tea and has a chat. She tells me about what she’s been doing at school, about her plans for university. Sometimes she draws me, just sitting in my armchair watching the world outside. And even when she’s up in her room, listening to music or messing about on her telephone, it’s just reassuring to know there’s someone here. I haven’t admitted it to myself, but I’ve been hoping she’ll stay.

‘You’re planning to go home?’ I ask, trying to keep my voice level.

‘I’ve got to, haven’t I?’ she asks.

No, I think. You don’t have to live with those people who don’t love you for who you are. You can stay here, with me, and I will. But I can’t say that out loud. Like Julie says, I haven’t known her very long.

‘How have they reacted to your leaving?’ Julie asks.

Erin shrugs. ‘I don’t think they get it. They think I’m hormonal and overly dramatic. They never look at themselves and wonder whether they’re doing anything wrong.’

‘That’s people for you,’ I say, and Julie and Erin both turn to me. ‘I mean, people are so bad at recognising flaws in themselves, in general, aren’t they?’

‘Maybe so,’ Erin says.

We sit quietly for a minute.

‘Any big plans for New Year’s Eve?’ Julie asks.

I wait for Erin to respond. I’ve been wanting to ask her this, because I’d quite like to spend the evening with her, and I wanted to give her some money and ask her to get a few fireworks for us. I’ve always liked the drama of them, the spectacle, but Olly was terrified, so it’s been a few years since I saw any up close. But I’m sure she’ll have other plans.

‘I think a few of us from school are going to the Carpenters,’ Erin says. She doesn’t sound very enthused.

‘What about you?’ I ask her. ‘Plans with Martin?’

She pulls a face. ‘He’s seeing his mate, Jamie. Says it’s been booked in for months.’

Does she believe this? Is there a part of her that thinks maybe he’s seeing that woman, that Estelle, and this whole Jamie story is just a cover up? I don’t want to suggest it, because if she trusts him, that’s fair enough.

‘So you’ll be on your own?’ I ask.

‘Oh, yes, but it’s never been a big favourite of mine, New Year. I’ll probably be tucked up in bed with a cup of cocoa by ten thirty.’

I want to ask her to come here, but I feel foolish, suddenly. Have I made these friendships into more than they are? Am I at risk of being that pushy old lady who won’t leave them alone? I stay quiet, think of her and me in our separate houses, both spending the last evening of the year alone, and it seems a shame. A silence settles, a comfortable one.

‘Well, I’d better get dressed,’ Erin says, after a while. She clears the mugs, takes them through to the kitchen.

‘You don’t have to worry about her,’ I say to Julie, once Erin’s padded upstairs. ‘I mean, about me. She’s a sweet girl. She’s just a bit lost, that’s all.’

‘It’s kind of you to take her in,’ Julie says. ‘Just make sure you’re looking out for yourself as well as her, that’s all I ask.’

And then she gets up and busies herself again, and I’m left with my thoughts. Would this situation with Erin have come about if Arthur was still alive? I can’t picture it, her coming here to stay with both of us. But then, I can’t imagine having met her back then, either. I remember that first meeting, me sneaking that jar of piccalilli into my bag, the lack of judgement in her eyes when I looked up and saw that she was watching me. The old Mabel would never have done that. So who exactly is this new Mabel? A woman who steals, who makes friends with teenagers, who interferes in the lives of her new friends in a bid to make them happy? Is she someone I’m proud to be? Not quite. But she’s on the way, I think. She’s getting closer.

There’s a sharp rap on the door and Julie calls out that she’ll get it, so I don’t get up from my chair.

‘Come in,’ I hear her saying. ‘Are you all right? No, you were right to look for me here. What’s happened?’

They come into the room and I know it’s Patricia without even looking round, because I can smell that perfume she wears, like sunshine and beaches. She’s in tears.

‘She’s so angry,’ she says. ‘She’s convinced I did something.’

‘Did what?’ Julie asks.

They must be talking about Sarah.

‘She got this text, warning her that Geoff had some other woman. That’s what made her come back here. But now they’ve been talking and he swears it’s not true, and she says she doesn’t want to believe I’d do this but she can’t think of anyone else who would have a motive. A motive! Like she’s investigating a crime.’

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