Behind Closed Doors by Catherine Alliott

Author:Catherine Alliott [Alliott, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781405940764
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2021-03-03T16:00:00+00:00

17

Dan was waiting for me at the pub when I pushed through the door of the Rose and Crown on Friday. It was warm, softly lit, busy but not crowded, and he was perched at the bar with a beer, engrossed in a newspaper. It made a welcome change from seeing someone staring at their phone – not that I met many men in pubs, it occurred to me; indeed, I hadn’t, for about a hundred years. I had the advantage of seeing him first and he was wearing a soft blue jumper which I could tell even at this distance was cashmere. It went rather well with his still boyishly pink complexion and his swept back fair hair. He turned and smiled broadly as I approached, folding away his paper and getting to his feet. I apologized for being late which I wasn’t really, and he assured me he’d just got there, although when I looked at his half-empty glass it appeared he’d been there a while. When he’d ordered me a gin and tonic he asked after my parents, and I told him they’d finally recovered from the morning after the night before and explained about my day administering to the severely hung-over. On the down side, I told him, it had been exhausting, but on the plus side, it had had the advantage of rendering them horizontal and immobile on their respective beds as I’d popped in and out with soup and Alka-Seltzer, my father mumbling about the possibility of a dodgy prawn in the fish pie.

Dan chuckled as he paid the barmaid for my drink and passed it to me. ‘They’re incorrigible. After you’d dropped her off with Betty, Mum apparently spent the whole day lying on a sofa with a mask over her eyes, complaining that climate change had made the days much brighter than they used to be.’

‘At least you’ve got Betty,’ I told him, sipping my drink. ‘She looked eminently more capable and sensible than our sweet but decrepit Irene.’

He made a face. ‘Except she doesn’t drive, which is annoying. But yes, I can at least leave Mum for a couple of days and be in London. As long as she’s not snuck out by any reprobates, of course.’ He grinned.

I grimaced. ‘Sorry about that. We’ve had words about not leading the neighbours astray.’

We had, actually. When they’d recovered sufficiently, I’d sat my parents down like a couple of children and explained that I had to be able to go away, or even go on holiday, and not return to find the place trashed and the pair of them insensible. Not to mention all the damage limitation I had to perform with their friends’ carers and children.

‘It’s our house to trash,’ Mum had pouted.

‘Of course it is, but aside from a chip pan fit to explode—’

‘Hetty,’ Mum interjected quickly.

‘—you’d left an electric ring on high, with a bone-dry pan on top of it. Not for the first time, either. The Aga man’s coming tomorrow, but until then, I think we avoid using a cooker you have no idea how to work.

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