Mrs McPherson demanded after the fourth. It got to the point where Lilian had to physically shoo her husband away whenever the poor pair appeared in the breakfast room, for fear of one of them leaping up and stabbing him with a fork.
It was a relief when the McPhersons finally left and she could let her breath out again. Well, for about ten minutes anyway, before she had to stock up on food for the anniversary lunch, and clean the house from top to bottom. Still, better to be busy than bored, she supposed.
Eddie said he’d drive them both to Axminster as he wanted to pick up a bag of plaster from B&Q while she tackled the supermarket, so off they went. But they weren’t even three miles out of Loveday when he suddenly dropped the speed and puttered to a halt, stopping the car right in the middle of the road. ‘I . . .’ he said, gazing through the windscreen. ‘I . . .’
A silver Passat that had been buzzing along at 50 mph behind them beeped and swerved wildly to avoid cannoning straight into the back of them. Then it roared past, the driver gesticulating furiously.
‘Eddie, what are you doing ?’ Lilian screeched, grabbing at his shirt sleeve. ‘You can’t just stop here!’
His eyes were misty and confused. ‘I . . . I can’t remember where to go,’ he said simply. ‘Where do I go, Lilian?’
She stared at him, uncomprehending. He couldn’t remember where to go ? He’d lived here more than fifty years, and he couldn’t remember the way to B&Q and Tesco? ‘Don’t be so silly,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘It’s straight along to the roundabout, then right, of course. Remember?’
He blinked. ‘I . . .’
Another car screamed past, making their little Ford shake on its wheels. ‘Swap places,’ she ordered, scared and alarmed by his behaviour. ‘I’ll drive. No – don’t get out your side, Eddie!’ Whatever was wrong with the man, trying to open his door when a Volvo was about to whizz by?
That was the big question, though. What was wrong with her husband?
The episode had sent a chill down her spine, a freezing anxiety that didn’t let up, all the way to the supermarket car park. ‘Here we are,’ she said brightly as she pulled on the handbrake, her hands still trembly. ‘Okay?’
He nodded and, in that moment, he was back to Eddie, her Eddie, just as normal. ‘Sorry,’ he said, shaking his head a little. ‘My mind went blank. Most odd. Right – have you got that list, then? Let’s go.’
Normality didn’t last long. Something seemed to have unwound in his head. It was as if he was running on a different track from her now – a parallel, similar track, but one that no longer quite matched hers. He was quiet in the supermarket, trailing around after her, and spent a long time choosing the plaster he wanted once they got to the DIY store. Then, when they were safely back home, the groceries put away and the kettle boiling, he suddenly said, ‘I think I’ll catch up a bit in the garden this afternoon, love. I’ll just pop round and see if I can borrow Tony’s mower. Grass needs cutting.’
She swung round in surprise. ‘Tony?’ she echoed, staring at him.
‘He’s got that new one, hasn’t he?’ he said mildly. ‘Much better than ours.’
‘Eddie . . .’ Oh Lord. Where to begin? ‘Tony’s . . . gone. He moved away, years ago. Don’t you—?’ Don’t you remember? she was about to say, but stopped herself. Her skin prickled. He’d made a mistake, that was all. He must have meant Barry, their neighbour who’d lived next door for more than twelve years. Eddie knew that. Didn’t he?
He passed a hand over his head, frowned unseeingly. There was that terrifying blankness in his eyes once more and she leaned against the worktop, feeling unsteady. ‘Eddie, love, sit down,’ she said. Fear was jolting through her. What did all of this mean? What was happening? ‘Let me make you a drink. The grass doesn’t even need cutting – look.’
He let himself be
It was a relief when the McPhersons finally left and she could let her breath out again. Well, for about ten minutes anyway, before she had to stock up on food for the anniversary lunch, and clean the house from top to bottom. Still, better to be busy than bored, she supposed.
Eddie said he’d drive them both to Axminster as he wanted to pick up a bag of plaster from B&Q while she tackled the supermarket, so off they went. But they weren’t even three miles out of Loveday when he suddenly dropped the speed and puttered to a halt, stopping the car right in the middle of the road. ‘I . . .’ he said, gazing through the windscreen. ‘I . . .’
A silver Passat that had been buzzing along at 50 mph behind them beeped and swerved wildly to avoid cannoning straight into the back of them. Then it roared past, the driver gesticulating furiously.
‘Eddie, what are you doing ?’ Lilian screeched, grabbing at his shirt sleeve. ‘You can’t just stop here!’
His eyes were misty and confused. ‘I . . . I can’t remember where to go,’ he said simply. ‘Where do I go, Lilian?’
She stared at him, uncomprehending. He couldn’t remember where to go ? He’d lived here more than fifty years, and he couldn’t remember the way to B&Q and Tesco? ‘Don’t be so silly,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘It’s straight along to the roundabout, then right, of course. Remember?’
He blinked. ‘I . . .’
Another car screamed past, making their little Ford shake on its wheels. ‘Swap places,’ she ordered, scared and alarmed by his behaviour. ‘I’ll drive. No – don’t get out your side, Eddie!’ Whatever was wrong with the man, trying to open his door when a Volvo was about to whizz by?
That was the big question, though. What was wrong with her husband?
The episode had sent a chill down her spine, a freezing anxiety that didn’t let up, all the way to the supermarket car park. ‘Here we are,’ she said brightly as she pulled on the handbrake, her hands still trembly. ‘Okay?’
He nodded and, in that moment, he was back to Eddie, her Eddie, just as normal. ‘Sorry,’ he said, shaking his head a little. ‘My mind went blank. Most odd. Right – have you got that list, then? Let’s go.’
Normality didn’t last long. Something seemed to have unwound in his head. It was as if he was running on a different track from her now – a parallel, similar track, but one that no longer quite matched hers. He was quiet in the supermarket, trailing around after her, and spent a long time choosing the plaster he wanted once they got to the DIY store. Then, when they were safely back home, the groceries put away and the kettle boiling, he suddenly said, ‘I think I’ll catch up a bit in the garden this afternoon, love. I’ll just pop round and see if I can borrow Tony’s mower. Grass needs cutting.’
She swung round in surprise. ‘Tony?’ she echoed, staring at him.
‘He’s got that new one, hasn’t he?’ he said mildly. ‘Much better than ours.’
‘Eddie . . .’ Oh Lord. Where to begin? ‘Tony’s . . . gone. He moved away, years ago. Don’t you—?’ Don’t you remember? she was about to say, but stopped herself. Her skin prickled. He’d made a mistake, that was all. He must have meant Barry, their neighbour who’d lived next door for more than twelve years. Eddie knew that. Didn’t he?
He passed a hand over his head, frowned unseeingly. There was that terrifying blankness in his eyes once more and she leaned against the worktop, feeling unsteady. ‘Eddie, love, sit down,’ she said. Fear was jolting through her. What did all of this mean? What was happening? ‘Let me make you a drink. The grass doesn’t even need cutting – look.’
He let himself be
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