Page 4 of Old Girls Behaving Badly

‘I’d better go and sharpen my teeth,’ she said turning for the house, and she listened to Erik chuckling as she navigated the pathway to her kitchen door. She’d have a quick cup of tea and then prepare herself for the bustling and kind warmth of her daughter-in-law.

‘Well, I suppose we’ll let you know then, Clare,’ Lavinia said to the girl, who was already on her feet, her phone in hand and making her way to the front door.

Dorothy could hear the two of them whispering in the hallway and then the sound of the door clicking shut. Lavinia stood for a moment in the doorway to the living room, her arms folded tightly across her chest while Dorothy sat rigid in her chair.

‘Dot! What was all that about? You frightened the poor girl away. You can’t ask questions like that.’

‘But she did have a terrible complexion. I was only wondering what sort of skin care regime would result in such a breakout.’

‘It’s not like you to be cruel. We’ll never find someone if you behave like that and the wedding’s in only a couple of weeks.’

Dorothy set her lips into a tight line, chastened. Lavinia was right – that was probably too much. She hated to disappoint her daughter-in-law. Lavinia was a blessing and the best thing Dorothy’s son, Miles, ever did was to marry her. Some considered her a little cold, but really, when you got to know her it was obvious she just liked things done properly. She quietly put in the hard work to make sure everything was perfect. Someone needed to, because if Dorothy was honest, Miles was rather lacking sometimes. Oh, he worked hard enough at the office, but left all of the emotional heavy lifting to his wife.

The sound of a car on the gravel outside made both women turn to the open window. A door closed and footsteps could be heard, then voices.

‘Are you here for the companion job?’ said a voice that sounded like Clare, clearly still loitering outside. They couldn’t hear the response, though.

‘Good luck with that, then,’ she said. ‘She’s a right miserable cow.’

Lavinia’s head whipped round to Dorothy and the two women locked eyes for a moment before they both began to giggle as the doorbell rang.

‘Be nice,’ Lavinia whispered before going to answer it.

An older woman walked into the living room and seemed to be sizing up the place, the way her eyes darted over Dorothy’s possessions.

‘Dot, this is Gina Knight,’ Lavinia said with a pointed look. ‘Gina lives in Oxfordshire and has two grown-up children and two grandchildren.’

Dorothy thought that Lavinia sounded like a game show host introducing a contestant, but decided to keep her mouth shut.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Reed,’ Gina said.

‘Dorothy is fine,’ Dorothy said, taking in the woman standing awkwardly in the middle of her living room.

She seemed a bit mousy. She wore navy trousers and a white cotton blouse. Her shoes were sensible and flat, and her hair hung in gentle waves around her face. She could be as young as fifty-five or as old as seventy; it was hard to tell because she had the air of an older person, but her skin was luminous and had few wrinkles. At least she was considerably closer in age to Dorothy than the last girl, but then she reminded herself, she had no intention of employing her anyway.

‘You have a lovely home,’ Gina said, taking the seat Lavinia offered her. ‘It’s such a great setting with Hampton Court just over the road and the Thames behind you.’

‘Thank you, dear, I’m very happy here,’ Dorothy said, but she could hear how wooden her own voice sounded and she didn’t smile.

Her daughter-in-law beamed, though, and Dorothy sensed that Lavinia was overcompensating.

‘Isn’t it lovely. It was my husband’s childhood home. We love coming back to visit, well me visiting, him coming home I suppose. So, what was it that appealed to you about a job as a companion? I see you have no experience,’ Lavinia said glancing at her notes. ‘Not that that’s a bad thing necessarily.’

Gina shifted her position on her chair and suddenly looked a little awkward.

‘My circumstances have recently changed and, I suppose, I’m looking for a new challenge.’

‘I don’t think Dorothy is much of a challenge,’ Lavinia said with a smile. ‘What did you do in your working life? Did you have a job outside of the home?’

There was silence for a little longer than was comfortable and Dorothy wondered if Gina was going to lie, but when her words arrived they seemed to come naturally.

‘I was an art historian many years ago and spent some time curating collections at Ham House in Richmond, actually. But then I gave it up, and we moved to Oxfordshire anyway, for my husband’s job, so it didn’t really work. That might be one of my biggest regrets,’ she said wistfully.

‘Art historian?’ Dorothy spoke up, her interest piqued. ‘Well, that’s fascinating.’

‘Yes, I worked at the British Museum for a while too. At Ham House, I worked with my mother,’ she added.

Dorothy sensed a complete change in the direction of her afternoon and she homed in on Gina’s expression, which clouded over for a moment at the mention of her mother.