A Change for the Better? Read online

  A CHANGE FOR THE BETTER?

  BY Stephanie Drury

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publisher as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  First published in 2012 by Stephanie Drury

  Copyright© 2011 Stephanie Drury

  Stephanie Drury has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the copyright owner.

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 1

  The rain was bucketing down, hammering on the roof of the car like a demented pigeon having tap dance lessons. Katie peered through the windscreen at Tolpuddle House, of course it was raining! It was wet and gloomy, just like her mood. How had she agreed to come here? Still, no use sitting in her little sports car ruing her unfortunate position, after all, it was almost entirely her own fault that she found herself in her current predicament. It was pointless hiding here in the car, watching the rain and feeling sorry for herself, she had nowhere else to go so she may as well make the best of it. Katie carefully opened the door and promptly put her foot straight into a muddy puddle about six inches deep. “Bugger” she mumbled, still at least these were the Primark imitations and not the actual Ugg boots that were tucked away in her case. Splashing through the puddles Katie opened the boot of the car and heaved the cases out, dropping the corner of one onto her foot, which was now throbbing and wet! Carefully she turned towards the house and stopped. Katie stood in front of the old house, taking in it’s familiar outline, The rickety turret at the top, resembling a tower where the princess (always herself) would be imprisoned awaiting the handsome prince to rescue her. “Not anymore” thought Katie bitterly “rescue yourself; no swashbuckling knight on a white horse or charming prince was going to come along and do it for you, no they would be cowering in the bushes or hightailing it in the opposite direction. Princes were definitely not what they used to be” The ivy was climbing up the west side of the house and it now covered almost half the house giving it a slightly sinister look like a theatrical mask concealing half its features, that was only offset by the many different shades of light beaming out of the rooms, like many twinkling eyes of soft shades of luminous pale light from the turrets to a bright vivid red light with mauve tones from the first floor window, setting the house alive.

  It had been an age since Katie had been here, at least three years, but when she was a child she had spent many happy times here, staying at her grandparents, being spoiled and scolded in equal measure, living out huge adventures in the rambling garden and throughout the house in all the nooks and crannies. Katie smiled as she recalled Mo (as everyone called grandma) and granddad sat in front of the open fire in the kitchen, squabbling gently about anything and everything whilst she sat eating a bowl of plum crumble and custard or tucking into a doorstop sandwich, the only thing ever known to stop her talking for five minutes.

  Katie smiled, despite its sometimes imposing appearance; Tolpuddle House was a warm and welcoming place inside and always provided a safe haven from the hostile world outside. Katie needed a haven now, she knew that, but she still wasn’t sure if she’d done the right thing by coming here – but it was too late now.

  Giving herself a mental shake Katie opened the gate and entered into the slightly wild garden following the slightly overgrown path to her new, if temporary, home.

  It had been only two days ago when Katie had received a call from Mo in hospital. She’d had a ‘slight’ fall as she understated it. Actually she had clattered down one and a half flights of stairs in Tolpuddle house before ending up in a heap in the middle of the hall. Fortunately there had been someone else in the house at the time and they had, despite Mo’s very vocal protests, called the ambulance straight away.

  Mo, much to her chagrin, was now in hospital with a broken hip, bruised ribs, concussion and severely dented pride, but she was on the mend now. In fact when Katie had visited her she was practically back to her usual irascible self.

  “I don’t even know why they’re making such a fuss - it was only a little tumble” moaned Mo.

  “It was not a ‘little tumble’ Mo” Katie replied shortly “it was a nasty fall for someone half your age.”

  “What’s age got to do with it? I’m as fit as a fiddle, I’ve never been ill in my life I …”

  “Yes, you old battle-axe, you’re indestructible I know” Katie interrupted, as Mo could run on eloquently in this theme for some time, “but either way you’re in here now and you have to stay until you’re fixed. Anyway it may not be so bad; it’s a mixed ward you know!” Katie added with tongue firmly in cheek.

  “You cheeky mare” Mo laughed in mock outrage, “but don’t you go thinking I’m past it. How’s that young man of yours anyway, you know the one you won’t let any of us meet.”

  “He’s history, Mo - I don’t want to talk about it but he’s gone and I’m officially homeless and probably jobless too.” Katie sighed, this was a conversation she wasn’t ready to have yet - the wounds were still raw. In addition there were so many other problems her current situation brought with it that she had no idea where to even start explaining it all. Mo saw the shutters go down on her granddaughters expressive brown eyes and saw her chin tilt up in that determined fashion she’d had since she was a stubborn five-year-old who really didn’t want to go home. There’d be no confidences from Katie now. Mo sighed, she really admired Katie’s determination and strength but sometimes she wished she could open up so that she could put her arms around her to help make things better. Still at least she could help with one or two of Katie’s problems this time without appearing to. Mo cleared her throat and jumped in before Katie could steer the conversation completely away from herself.

  “Well Katie, we won’t talk about it if you don’t want to, but when you do want to, you know where I am, I’m not going anywhere for a while! Anyway I need your help if I’m going to be stuck in this godforsaken place. I need you to look after Tolpuddle house for me.” Mo paused and listened for any reaction in the heavy silence that followed. Katie didn’t think she’d heard correctly.


  “Sorry, keep an eye on it you mean?”

  “No” Mo shook her head vigorously until the bandages started to wobble; “I mean look after it - move in to it and make sure all my people are ok too. Come on, you just said you had nowhere to live and no job either!” Mo looked up innocently from her bed, holding Katie in her translucent blue gaze. Anyone who knew Mo would tell you there was no escape from Mo’s plan when she fixed you with those azure glinting innocent eyes. They were much more Machiavellian than innocent in the workings behind them.

  Katie took a deep breath to buy herself a bit more thinking time, but Mo seizing the moment, decided to take this pause as consent and before Katie could respond in any way Mo had removed her keys from her bag along with a list of instructions from the notepad by the side of her bed and pressed them into Katie’s hand. As if on autopilot Katie took them and started to rise from the chair – she knew she was already beaten.

  “Ok Mo, I’ll look after things only for as long as you’re in here. I’ll see you soon,” she said kissing the top of Mo’s head, “I just want to have a word with the sister before I go.” Katie rose thinking she had taken control of the situation well. It wasn’t until she had spoken to the sister that she realised quite how skillfully she had been stitched up. Mo would be in hospital at least a month, need a convalescence period for another two months after that and even then she may not be strong enough to look after the house and it’s inhabitants. Katie had just been signed up for at least a three-month stint!

  So here she was 48 hours later outside the front door of Tolpuddle House with her case, holdall, wet feet and reference from her previous employer who had been irritatingly eager to let her go immediately - to save any ‘embarrassing little encounters’ as they put it.

  Still Katie couldn’t help but look affectionately at the huge, oak, varnished door with a solid brass knocker in the middle. It had always seemed like an invitation to adventure when she was small. Now it seemed a bit ramshackle and certainly not the modern, up-to-the-minute outfit she was used to, but nonetheless it was reassuring in its familiarity. Katie slipped the key in the lock and heaved on the door. It didn’t move. “Great” she thought, Mo had said it could be a bit stiff – but it was more like jammed. Now what was the knack Mo mentioned, lift up the handle, kick the bottom right of the door, push the handle down simultaneously and SHOVE. “Ok here goes nothing” Katie mumbled to herself and shoved and kicked as instructed. A few seconds later as she hauled herself off the hall floor and dusted down her Calvin Klein jeans she announced to her reflection in the hall mirror, “Yes, that would appear to be the knack!”

  Katie collected her bags from the path and took a proper look around the hall. It was much as she remembered, the magnolia paint that could do with a fresh coat, the staircase heading upstairs – with a less garish carpet than had graced it during the seventies and eighties. To her right was a door leading into the front room. Mo and Granddad never really used this room although it had a beautiful big bay window overlooking the front garden. It had been impossible, despite all Granddads’ efforts, to get the room warm. They had always preferred to sit in the living area of the kitchen with its oversized misshapen sofa and armchairs, the range giving off a cosy heat and always some wonderful aromas of baking bread, casseroles or roasting meats, whilst watching all their favourite soaps on the telly. On Katie’s left was the door into Mo’s flat and straight ahead up the hall led to the ground floor flat occupied by some of Mo’s ‘people’. Altogether the house had seven other occupants in the various flats and bed sits that Katie’s Granddad had created over ten years before.

  Katie took out Mo’s list as she opened the door into the flat and dumped her bags at the side to be dealt with later. There, on the list, were Mo’s acerbic details of her current ‘guests’ as she called them.

  Downstairs - Ground Floor Flat, Mary & Ken Clackett, both 70 but think they’re 40 - watch out for any DIY undertaken.

  First Floor

  Bed sit 1 - Guy Masters, something to do with computers doesn’t’t speak much - make sure he eats.

  Bed sit 2 - Poppy Smith, Student at Rawlinston College studying dresses - make sure she eats too.

  Bed sit 3 - Hermione Sheridan, spinster of this parish (not her choice!). A bit fussy but her hearts in the right place

  2nd Floor Flat - Bradley & Tamsin Dixon, newlyweds, both very into the environment, animals, children and each other.

  Below all this Mo had also written details of the various rents each of the ‘guests’ paid and which bank account to pay them into and how much Katie should take each week for her housekeeping role. Katie smiled as she read it - that had been an hourly amount in her last job! Still she wouldn’t need much money around here. Laxley Heath was not renowned for it’s wealth of activities, “Still” Katie thought “perhaps I should’ve tried a bit harder to save some of that money I earned instead of blowing it all on trips, holidays, clothes and gadgets which would be of little or no use to her here.”

  Choosing not to dwell on her short-comings at the present moment, Katie picked up her bags and put them in the first bedroom, wincing at the chintz with added chintz decor that Mo favoured in here. Deciding to unpack her things later Katie headed for the kitchen in search of something familiar, and there they were the big old range, the comfy sofa, a flat screen TV with DVD recorder (that was new Mo!) and the huge pine kitchen table. Katie felt inspired immediately and putting the range on to warm up the flat and the water she decided to see what food was available. As it turned out not much in the finished form but the ingredients for almost anything, just as she had expected. Without thinking Katie rolled up her sleeves and collected all the things she needed to make some bread. Of course in London she had a top of the range bread-maker for this, but she knew how to make it herself. Mo had spent many evenings and holidays when Katie had come to stay teaching her granddaughter how to bake freshly made bread, tasty crunchy biscuits, melt-in-the-mouth sponges and all sorts of buns and fancies. Katie had loved learning how to bake and she had a natural instinct for it, always knowing what to add or how long to stir the mixture without spoiling it and then pulling the finished article out of the range at just the right moment. Katie loved to bake, she found the measuring, stirring and kneading, soothing and settling all to create a delicious concoction when she felt worried or stressed. It was almost as comforting as eating the creations fresh from the oven. This was just one of those times Katie reflected ruefully, her whole life had just been turned upside down, she had lost her love, her home, her job and was pitched up back where she had started out from eight years before, and she had no idea what she was going to do next, but somehow as she threw the ingredients in the bowl, mixed them and kneaded the soft springy dough she felt her nerves relax, and a calmness surround her. She might not know what tomorrow would bring but just for now she was alright.

  An hour and a half later Katie was sat on the sofa eating freshly baked bread with butter dripping from the sides, accompanied by a steaming hot mug of tea, watching the late afternoon offerings on the telly. Quiz shows and talk shows, but nothing challenging or disturbing - just what she needed to keep her troubled spirits soothed. As she sat in a half trance like state sherealised there was a fairly persistent knocking on the door in the kitchen. The door opened onto the path at the side of the house leading round to the patio and the flat at the back.

  Rising slowly from her seat Katie was loath to let the real world back in so soon but realised that, as the lamps were on, there was no use in pretending no one was home. As Katie opened the door lilting Irish tones reached her.

  “No, no, Ken, leave that be, just put the bag in the bin like I said - Oh hello my dear, you look confused, are you tired? My goodness what a delicious smell, fresh baked bread, how wonderful” The flow of conversation never stopped as the elderly, but sprightly, lady walked through the door and plonked herself firmly on one of the kitchen chairs.

  “Oh you have the range on too, lovely, I
always think the range gives off a homely, proper heat, not like the central heating or those storage heater things” she said the words as if they were the work of the devil and in the short intake of breath she took then Katie decided to jump right in before getting lost in the next bit of chatter.

  “Um hello, do come in. I’m Katie Collins, Mo’s granddaughter. Can I help you?”

  “Well of course you are - I’m Mary Clackett from the ground floor. We’ve met before, you know, when you came to visit Mo a couple of years ago, though I must say you were not so skinny then.”Mary cast a disapproving eye over Katie. Being thin was clearly on a par with storage heaters to Mary Clackett.

  “Of course we did, Mrs. Clackett, it’s been a while and I’m afraid I’m a bit shell shocked at the moment with all the things that have happened” Katie tried to defend her forgetfulness.

  “But of course you are my dear” clucked Mary, “and call me Mary, what with your grandmother’s fall and all - it was such a shock to all of us. It was Ken that found her, poor love; he went as white as a sheet, no use, like most men, in a crisis. He just stood there opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, fortunately me and Hermione were there, you know Hermione in the first floor bed sit?” enquired Mary.

  “Um no, I’ve not had the pleasure yet” Katie replied.

  “Pleasure - huh!” grunted Mary, “not so much a pleasure as an endurance but, none the less, there she was and with that mobile phone thingy at least she could ring the ambulance straight away. I can tell you I was worried about her.”