Next day she did the weekend shopping and had coffee in the pedestrian precinct near her flat, went back to do her housework and then had lunch and spent the rest of the day with her grandmother. It was fine, a warm summer day; Judith sunbathed in a deckchair while Mrs Murry pottered about among the roses; cutting off withered heads and dropping them into a wicker trug, bending to sniff the scent of the opening white and crimson buds. Judith closed her eyes and let the tranquillity seep into her bones; she was so tired she found it hard to relax, to let go of the various pressures which had been driving her all week. She had had to screw herself up to face them and now it wasn't easy to slacken and unwind; she felt slightly dizzy. When Luke gave her that job she knew he had flung her a challenge which she hadn't wanted to refuse. The work was difficult, she hadn't had any real idea how testing it was—it had taken her almost a month to work herself into the job, but she knew she had done it. The hours and hours of relentless paperwork were paying off. She might have found it much easier if her life had not been complicated by having fallen in love with Luke; she felt as if she had been caught in a vice for weeks. Her jaws ached with weariness.
'I think I'll take some of these roses down to Mrs Doulton,' her grandmother murmured. 'I suppose she has masses of flowers in her garden.'
'Masses,' Judith agreed, then opened her eyes and smiled at Mrs Murry. 'But I've no doubt she'd love to get your roses, she has flowers everywhere in the house. It would be a nice gesture.'
Next morning they set off to drive to Kent. Mrs Murry carefully laid a huge bunch of roses on the back seat; she had cut them earlier and Judith saw among the dark red petals the odd glassy drop of dew. The fragrance of the flowers soon filled the car as the day grew warmer, she opened the windows wider because the scent was almost cloying.
Fanny took them up to see Mrs Doulton as soon as they arrived; Judith felt her staring at Mrs Murry, Fanny was curious and, she suspected, slightly jealous. She was possessive towards Mrs Doulton, they had been together for years, they must have shared a thousand secrets, even if Mrs Doulton hadn't always realised how much of her life Fanny shared. The old woman couldn't have lived in the same house without finding out most of what went on, perhaps she had lived vicariously through Mrs Doulton, almost believing that she herself was part of that world. Judith sensed that Fanny preferred it when there were no visitors; she was old, she did not like strangers.
'What beautiful roses,' said Mrs Doulton as Mrs Murry laid them on the bedside table a moment later. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time; Judith has told me so much about you—it's very kind of you to come to see me, I hope the car journey wasn't too tiring. '
'Certainly not!' Mrs Murry said indignantly, bristling.
'Do sit down. '
Mrs Murry sat on the chair Judith hurriedly forward. 'You have a very charming house; have you live here long?'
'I bought it after my husband died; I needed something to occupy my mind, I didn't want to spend all my time brooding and our home in the States held too many memories, I couldn't get over his death while I was there.'
'I couldn't bear to leave our home,' Mrs Murry explained. 'For that very reason—all the memories. '
'We all cope with it in a different way, I suppose. I felt I ought to go away, to leave Luke room—taking over from his father wasn't easy for him, he was still so young and most of the men he worked with were much more experienced. They kept trying to bring me in to support them, it made Luke feel that they were putting him down all the time, rubbing it in that he wasn't old enough to have control of the firm. It might have ruined our relationship if it had gone on much longer— I had to get out of the way.'
'You have daughters, too, don't you?'
'Two—did you have any daughters?' Mrs Doulton broke off to look at Judith who was fingering one of the roses. 'Oh, Judith, would you take those down to Fanny and ask her to put them in water for me? I wouldn't want them to wither.'
'Surely,' said Judith, getting up and gathering the roses into her crooked arm.
Mrs Doulton smiled at her. 'Why don't you go out and swim? Fanny will find you one of Angela's swimsuits to wear—it's such a lovely day, it seems a waste for you to spend it in here.' She looked at Mrs Murry. 'We can have a chat while we drink our coffee,' she added.
Judith went down the stairs, smiling to herself. There hadn't been room for her in that conversation, they had had too much to say to each other, but she felt she had been dismissed like a child from an adult chat, not hurtfully, because the dismissal had been given too kindly, but firmly. She had been sent out to play, they were going to discuss experiences she had not shared and could not quite understand. Fanny took the flowers from her and began to trim them before filling a green glass vase with water and putting the roses into it.
'Mrs Doulton said I could borrow one of Angela's bikinis.' Judith told her as she watched.
'Top drawer in her dressing-table,' Fanny said huffily. 'You can't miss them; there's nothing else in that drawer. You can get a towel from the bathroom airing cupboard.'
'Thank you,' Judith said politely, and left her to finish arranging the roses; she was doing so with rough impatience as though the velvety flowers were recalcitrant children she was hustling about.
Judith spent the rest of the time until lunch swimming in the blue-watered pool; a few white petals blew from the climbing roses which clung to a trellis nearby, she watched them floating on the top of the pool, it made her feel like someone in a film except that the petals gradually turned brown at the edges and began to sink. She was relieved to see no sign of Angela and her family; obviously they were going to be alone for lunch. When she got back to the house to her amazement Mrs Doulton was downstairs, sitting in a wheelchair in the sitting-room, talking to Judith's grandmother as they both sipped tiny glasses of sherry. Judith had never seen Mrs Doulton out of bed, she had supposed that Luke's mother was permanently bedridden, but when she asked about it Mrs Doulton laughed, shaking her head.
'Oh, no, I’ve only spent so much time in bed because of my operation. It wasn't a success and the pain was so bad that couldn’t face trying to walk far, but I'm finding it easier to move about lately. My doctor tells me I must make myself get up at least once daily, even if it's only to walk to the bathroom.' Mrs Doulton made a face. 'I'm a coward, I'm afraid. I hate pain.'
'Fanny and I helped her downstairs,' Mrs Murry told Judith. 'I've been telling her, she either ought to have a lift installed or sleep downstairs. When she's alone here Fanny wouldn't be able to get her downstairs.'
'In a few months I'm going to have another operation in the hope of getting it right this time,' Mrs Doulton said to Judith. 'I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a bed or a wheelchair—these hip operations are very delicate, but hundreds of people have had them successfully now, my doctor tells me. It was just bad luck that mine didn't quite come off.'
'I thought you said you were a coward,' Mrs Murry teased. 'It seems very brave of you to consider having another go.'
'Anything is better than lying about all day. The problem is that with a weak heart the doctors are reluctant to risk long operations, but they say they think they can do something.'
Judith felt a qualm of anxiety; she was already very fond of Luke's mother, she was frightened by the idea of her going into another major operation. Did Luke know what she planned? How would he feel about it?
They had lunch in the sunny dining-room; Fanny had placed the green glass vase of roses in the middle of the table, their perfume saturated the air and Mrs Doulton looked at them with pleasure. 'I love to be surrounded by flowers; one of the things I've missed most all these months has been my garden. I'm a great gardener, I was planning a water garden down in the park, but I haven't been able to get round to starting it because of my illness.'
'I love gardening,' Mrs Murry agreed. 'I haven't got room for a water garden, of course, but what an exciting project—what were you thinking of having? Lilies, irises…'
Judith watched a greenfinch pecking at the fruit on a cherry tree which grew not far from the dining-room window; the cherries were formed but unripe as yet, their white flesh must be very tart.