Where Everything Seems Double by Penny Freedman (popular romance novels .txt) 📕

we had had a lovely time and David had the sense to know how fragile my defiance was and came up to the mark. So, we exchanged presents of books, ate an M&S game pie, played Yahtzee and watched It’s a Wonderful Life, which I think David hated, but he said not a word.

Now, on December’s penultimate day, I am standing by the departures board at Euston station, waiting for Freda. I almost don’t recognise her when she appears. This is partly because it’s not Ellie but Ben who is with her, and partly because she seems to be several inches taller and at least two years older. The height can be put down to heels on the boots she is wearing, and the age to the hair and make-up; the ponytail has been replaced by sleek, smooth locks, and the eye make-up is visible even at some distance. The air of maturity is dispelled, though, when she rushes towards me – slightly wobbly on her heels – and throws her arms round me. Ben hugs me too and looks sheepish when I hand him a bag of Christmas presents – books as usual.

‘I haven’t…’ he says.

‘Don’t worry about it. I’ve got my present here.’ I take the opportunity to give Freda another hug before she remembers that she is too old for that sort of thing.

The train ride feels like a rerun of our summer journey, except that we hardly read our books at all. We get them out, at the ready – The Testaments for me and another quasi-historical tale for Freda – but we have a lot to say. I have bought her The Catcher in the Rye because it tackles the agony of growing up head-on, and Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go for the horror factor, as well as the growing up. She gives me two framed sketches of the set she helped to design for her school’s production of Twelfth Night last term. Georgia Wade had been in charge and she had enlisted Freda, who waxes lyrical about the design and its effects.

‘Miss Armitage, the director, wanted it to be autumn and winter time,’ she explains. ‘She said that at the beginning of the play everyone is sad, and it’s all about dying – Olivia’s father and brother, and Viola thinks her brother is dead, and even Feste the clown is getting old and sad. So we started with these bare trees and fallen leaves, and then in the interval we swapped them for trees with fake snow on them – we made it from foam wadding – and though you might think that made it even more wintry, actually the light bounced off the white, so it all felt brighter. And we made that snowman for the scene in the garden where Malvolio is reading the letter he thinks is from Olivia, and put a top hat on him, like the one Malvolio wore – the costumes were Victorian, you see, to make the audience think of Dickens and Christmas Carol and then Twelfth Night. And then in the very last scene lights started to come on on the trees. We’d put strings of tiny lights in among the fake snow, and they came on very gradually on a dimmer, so that in the end it was just beautiful and joyful.’

‘What about Malvolio?’ I ask. ‘He doesn’t get a joyful ending, does he?’

‘Oh I’ve got no sympathy for him,’ she says, with surprising callousness. ‘He deserves it. Olivia’s way out of his league and he ought to know it. And he doesn’t love her anyway. He just wants her money and status. He’s a fake.’

I laugh. ‘I think you’ll like Holden Caulfield. His favourite word for people is “phoney”.’

*

Once I have delivered Freda into the embraces of Ruby and Grace, I see hardly anything of her, but I enjoy my three days with Eve and Colin, though Colin is drinking more than seems sensible, and we all have to take a vow of silence to prevent us from harping endlessly on the Tory landslide and the prospect ahead. Eve still coughs alarmingly at times. She won’t talk about it, talking instead about other people. She is an information hub, so I learn about the afterlives of the major characters in the summer’s tragi-comedy. Neil Buxton pleaded not guilty to charges of attempted murder, GBH and sexual assault. There is a trial date in February and Eve has promised to be there for Susan and her girls, who will all have to give evidence. Freda has made a statement about events at Alcott Park and may not need to take the witness stand – which disappoints her as she would like her day in court. Milo and Fergus were ticked off by the police, as were Micky and Venetia, but no further action was taken in the light of Ruby’s reasons for disappearing. Grace is back at Alcott Park, where she had some explaining to do, and Ruby is making progress with her chemistry, though Colin is outraged at the poor quality of her school’s science teaching. She watches her mother anxiously, but Susan, though still wobbly and needing a stick, is determined that Ruby won’t become her carer. It turns out that sales of Neil’s glass have accumulated a tidy sum over the years, and Susan will get access to the money once the court seals his fate. We went to the Carnmere Manor hotel for fireworks on New Year’s Eve, and there was Dumitru, carrying trays of hot punch around. He got his place at the art college and seems to have got away with the pilfering from the hotel, since they are still employing him when they need extra staff. He will always land on his feet, I think.

*

On our train journey back to London we are much quieter than when we were outward bound. We are both conscious I think that we may not see one another again for quite