‘Why not?’
‘How should I know,’ Lucy raised her voice an octave. ‘Why don’t you add it to your list of questions.’
‘I might.’ Clara looked thoughtful. ‘Shall we make a start on this room?’
‘Yes, please,’ she said, hoping it would stop Clara from asking her questions she didn’t know the answers to, but the questions continued when Clara tried to move the wardrobe. ‘Is there stuff in here still?’ she asked in horror.
‘Yes, Dido’s clothes and things are still here,’ Lucy admitted.
Clara stared at Lucy and in a horrified tone said, ‘Why?’
‘I didn’t have the heart to bin them. It’s her things, her life and to just chuck it felt … wrong.’
Clara gave Lucy a stern look. ‘It’s not binning them. It’s sending them to charity. Someone else can benefit from these. I can’t understand why you’ve not done this. It was one of your jobs. I didn’t give you that many.’
‘I know you didn’t,’ Lucy said.
‘And a good thing too,’ Clara went on. ‘You had to show the estate agents round and you didn’t get that right. You’d practically slept with one by the end of the day.’
‘Hold on, that wasn’t my—’
‘You’ve not even emptied the wardrobe and the dressers. Have you sorted the headstone?’
‘No, I remembered I had to do it though,’ Lucy attempted to defend herself.
Clara took a deep breath. ‘It’s not the same as actually doing it though. But you’ve managed to buy paint and clear the garden, which wasn’t on the list.’
‘Not everything in life is on a bloody list, Clara.’
‘Don’t get clever.’
‘Crying out loud,’ Lucy said. ‘Do you want to ease off? Why are you suddenly so pissed off with me?’
Clara ran a hand over her face. ‘I just wish that you would finish something, for once.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘You’ve started the garden. But you’ve not finished it. You’ve started painting the house but we’ve come to help finish that.’
‘That’s because it’s too big a job for one person in such a short time and—’
‘Yes. We all knew that. You didn’t. You’ve not emptied the cupboards up here and now we’re going to have to do that in order to move this hulking great wardrobe only a few inches just to paint behind it. And, by all accounts, you’ve left Dido’s grave without a headstone.’
‘I thought headstones couldn’t be laid for at least a few months due to ground movement,’ Lucy said triumphantly.
‘Yes,’ Clara said. ‘But you have to choose one and commission it. They don’t magically appear.’
‘I’ll go tomorrow,’ Lucy said. ‘And I’ll take the charity items when I go. Kill two birds with one headstone,’ Lucy attempted a joke but it was clear Clara wasn’t in the mood.
‘Come on,’ Clara said in quieter tones as she opened the wardrobe doors, started pulling clothes out and folding them up. ‘Go and get some black sacks and we’ll sort this together.’
Lucy watched with regret as the remains of Dido Le Roy’s existence were removed from the room, folded up and placed on the bed ready to be packed for the charity shop.
The huge mahogany wardrobe was far heavier than they’d expected it to be, even once it had been emptied. John, Lucy and Clara were practically sweating.
‘Can’t we just leave it and paint round it?’ Lucy suggested.
John’s shoulders shook with mirth as Clara looked aghast. No one responded and they continued to shuffle the wardrobe out in fits and starts until it was far enough away from the wall for someone to fit behind and paint.
