Not just another Summer - 13. Friends & family

On Saturday Bas dragged me into town to a couple of homewares shops. There, he took me round and made me say what I liked. This had happened before, Bas despaired of the way I would put off personalising my environment, living with whatever the rented accommodation provided without putting my own stamp on it. We also found time to pop into the Castle gift shop, where Bas exclaimed over some of the tackier items and I bought a book on the Castle’s history, well a couple of books actually, because as well as a rather sober one aimed at adults, I picked up a children's book full of images which seemed to catch my imagination. Thankfully, Sandra, Matt’s mother was not on duty, so Bas’ comments went unremarked upon, I hoped!

With alarming speed Bas had any unwanted items removed from the annexe (and into one of the spare bedrooms in the main house) and my rooms made pleasantly harmonious, relaxing and somehow mine!

Amazing.

Bas left late afternoon as he had got tied up in some musical event on the Sunday morning, which was disappointing but a bit par for the course with him. After his departure, I started wondering why Vince had done nothing to the main house, largely leaving the décor as he had found it. It wouldn’t take that much to do something similar to what Bas had done for me, would it? If the idea could occur to me, then surely someone with a bit of visual imagination could do wonders.

Was it indifference or something more sinister?

---

Sunday morning, I moved back to my own quarters and continued to enjoy Bas’ decorative tweaks. So much so, I started to think about doing more. I felt a bit restless but had work to do and needed to concentrate. Freddie and Vince appeared very late afternoon. Freddie was full of beans, but Vince was a bit down, the flight having been delayed, the queues at the airport horrendous and so on.

“You need a drink.”

“It’s a bit early.”

I grinned, “It’s gin o’clock somewhere in the world, besides your body is still operating an hour ahead.”

“Well, I have to admit that the idea does sound rather appealing.”

I stood up, “I’ll get it. Oh, and I’m cooking dinner. Bas left me one of his easy one-pot casseroles.”

That seemed to cheer him up even more, “So, I don’t even have to think about that.”

As I made us a G&T, Vince returned to the topic of the journey back.

“You know, sometimes when I experience my fellow man en masse, I think fuck principles why don’t we splash out.”

“Travel first class or by private jet.”

“I wish. But you know what I mean.”

“Yeah. Champagne socialists. The great unwashed should have their due rights but please, not when I’m trying to enjoy my holiday.”

“Some of the people at the airport were positively unpleasant.”

I cackled, “Difficult to hang on to your principles when faced with a bunch of loud-mouthed proles.”

He sighed, “Yes. But then I get back to the centre and see blokes struggling, good guys and women who deserve better, deserve a decent cut off…” He shook himself, “Sorry, I’ll try and get off my high horse and cheer up.”

Thankfully, Freddie found us and regaled me with details of the delights of the holiday. He had clearly had fun, partaking of all the activities, mainly water sports, that the resort had to offer.

“I also went with Dad, we visited an old town, saw the ruins of the castle and that.”

“How was that?”

“Mmm. OK, I suppose.”

“Would you do it again?”

“Reckon I would.” A grin, “Besides, we swapped. I went with Dad one day and Dad agreed to come with me another.”

I turned to Vince, amused, “What did you two get up to, then?”

Vince rolled his eyes, “Hired a motor launch. Bloody expensive.”

“They trusted you to drive it?”

“Yes, amazingly, though you should have seen some of the other idiots.”

Freddie’s eyes danced, “It was great. We got to go along the coast, visit a couple of islands.”

“Strictly within limits, supposedly, though I couldn’t see anyone keeping tabs.”

“And we went skinny dipping.”

Vince gave an amused nod, “Both of us! Not sure what came over me.”

“So, are there photos?”

“No there bloody aren’t.” But he was smiling.

“Matt came over on Friday and joined Bas and me for dinner.”

“How was it?”

“Surprisingly fun, Bas was on his best behaviour.”

Vince blinked, “He’s not normally? I mean, I don’t know the bloke…”

I laughed, “Bas is a gossipy old queen at times, and can sometimes zing one liners which don’t go down well in mixed company.”

“I get it. So, no alarms, he didn’t scare your twitcher away.”

“Not a bit. Bas was delightful company, for once. Oh, and we used Dad’s record player.”

“Dad’s? In the study? Why did you use that, wouldn’t it have been better to…”

“To play LPs. Matt is keen on vinyl it seems.”

“What did you play, he brought some?”

“No! A couple were still in the study, tucked away.”

“Surprised you found anything. I thought they had all been cleared out.”

“Not quite. The Best of the Beach Boys and a German actress called Gisela May singing Brecht.”

“Bloody hell. He always did have weird tastes.”

“Where did the other discs go?”

“Buggered if I know. They were all disposed of during the clear out.”

“Would have been nice to keep a couple, even if I never played them.”

Vince smiled, “Well you’ve got the Beach Boys now. They got rid of all his books too. I’d have liked a couple of those.”

“So, what was left?”

“Frankly”, he stared at me, “Fuck all. It was like moving into a bloody rental property. Nothing of his was left. Nothing.”

“Didn’t you tell him you’d like some of the books and that?”

He sighed, “I did tell him, more than once. But all I got was, ‘Not to worry, it’s all taken care of’. Old…” He stopped himself before he could complete the epithet.

“Bas took me shopping and spruced up the annexe. Looks a lot better, we ought to do that in the hall.”

“We?” He gave me a look.

“Yes, we. I figured the hall, and the kitchen were joint, the rest is yours.”

“Fair enough. I never bothered because, well…”

“You weren’t sure whether I would stay, or you’d stay.”

“That’s about it.”

“I think it is about time we did more. Commit to the place and make it ours, less the rental property.”

“You’re right. And less living in Dad’s shadow. What do you suggest?”

“Pictures, photographs, change the soft furnishings. It would be nice to get rid of these bloody hideous sofas, but that’s probably a bit pricey.”

Vince chuckled, “A bit. Seems we can agree on some things. I never understood why he bought them. So, we start small. Hang on a moment.”

He went upstairs and returned, an age later, with a framed photograph, a large one.

“It’s a bit dusty. I won it at the centre and as the photo was taken by one of the volunteers, I didn’t like to pass up on it.”

I smiled, “Too worried he’d think you didn’t like it?”

“She. Yes.” He took a breath. “And I thought you might like it. I was waiting.”

“Till I actually settled somewhere.”

“Mmm. What do you think?”

It was the Estuary at dawn, a flock of birds. Not an image from one of my poems, but it was…

“Fantastic. Can we put this up in here, it’s too big for the annexe?”

Vince quickly swapped the photo for the rather anodyne reproduction of a modernist landscape, notable for its muddy colours perhaps chosen to tone with the sofas above which it hung. The photograph certainly looked a lot better than Dad’s picture.

Vince smiled, “That’s more like it. I will get some advice about improving things. There must be something we could do about these bloody sofas, without going to the expense of replacing them.”

“Bugger knows what.”

“Who the hell wants brown leather?”

“You could always ask your friend Venetia for decorating advice.”

He groaned, “Don’t. I’m sure she’d love to help. Interfere more like. Still, I’ll have to phone her this week. Get it over with.”

“Why bother, why not ignore her?”

“Because…” He frowned, “Because in the early days, she was a good friend and particularly helped Moira find her feet when I was busy with work. Too busy, truth to be told.” He gave a rueful grin. “Venetia’s been OK, but she has got it into her head that she needs to find me a wife, and I can’t seem to make her understand.”

“That you can find one for yourself?”

He shrugged, “Or that, perhaps, I don’t want one.”

Now that was intriguing, food for thought.

---

I wasn’t going to see much of Matt as people’s holidays meant he was working long hours, covering absences at Treasures, and Simon had not got back in contact about getting together. I needed to finish the poems for him and spend the week doing some proper work.

After a productive day on Monday, early evening saw me trying to work out what to do about eating, whether to phone for a take-away, go on the bike and fetch something or put up with the random bits and pieces in the fridge, when the doorbell went.

I assumed that it was someone looking for Vince, who wasn’t around and was presumably catching up at his office, whilst Freddie was off with friends, though whether that was friends friends or code for seeing Arvid, I wasn’t sure. Did it really matter?

It was Matt, with a carrier bag, looking a bit embarrassed. He handed me the bag and said it was in thanks for Friday, he had had fun. The bag contained a loaf of bread, some quiche and other bits and pieces that he explained had been left over from the bakers.

“I was bringing the bread anyway, and we had the other stuff, it would only go to waste.”

“Life saver”, I grinned, “I was trying to work out what to have for my evening meal.”

“Great. Well, I’ll be…”

“Want to join me?”

“What about Vince?”

I rolled my eyes, “He’s been on holiday. Evidently the work doesn’t go away”, I smiled, “so he’s chained to his desk at the office.”

“Thanks. I’d like that. “

“What about your Mum?”

“Oh, she’s OK. It’s her book club night, so she’s off to a friend’s house to pretend to talk about whatever book they are supposed to be reading at the moment.”

“Fair enough. Well, make yourself at home. It’ll be a funny old mix of food.”

We sat with a selection of quiches, sausage rolls, a fag end of cheese and such.

“Bas said something on Friday, about you being crap at relationships.”

“Of course he did.”

“Sorry. I was just curious, you can say it’s private, like.”

“Well, we both are crap, he is not much better.” I shrugged. “You meet someone attractive and hope a fun time turns into more, though you’ve got little in common.”

“Don’t you, like, get to know them first?”

“Bas says that I think with my dick. Then last year, I met a bloke in Norwich, and we had things in common, not just sex.”

“Are you and he?”

“Not. Turns out he’s a bit of shit. Nasty Norbert, Bas christened him.”

“Sorry.”

“I like to think I’ve learned my lesson, that I plan to concentrate on making some friends here, rather than plunging straight in.”

Perhaps things might have gone somewhere, given the intimate nature of the conversation, but I think Matt was still exploring. However, there was a rap of knuckles on the door to the hall and Vince walked in.

“Oh. Sorry. I was going to see if you wanted to share a take-away.”

I grinned, “I had a personal delivery. Join us?”

Matt nodded, “It’s a bit of a mix, just what we had left at the shop.” Then he shot up, “Sorry, I should introduce myself, I’m Matt.”

Vince smiled, “Vince, Gray’s brother.”

The meal wasn’t a long one, no-one lingered, but that night I saw another side to Vince, the one that made him a good family solicitor and perhaps the side of him that came out when he was dealing with the people at the centre. He wasn’t the stiff older brother, there was something far more approachable about him. Dad had had that, it’s what made him so successful, but Dad used it for a purpose. Vince was less interested in that; from the way he got Matt chatting, I could just see him being matey with men and women in the centre simply because that’s what he enjoyed, and what was called for.

That evening he got Matt talking, without even seeming to try. Before the meal was out, we were chatting about bird watching, the places Matt liked to go when he had time, and places he’d like to visit, if he had the money.