The Last List of Mabel Beaumont(45)

‘Julie,’ I say, next time she comes into the room. ‘Can you think of a way I can get hold of Kirsty’s telephone for a few minutes when she comes to take Olly out?’

She frowns. ‘Why would you want to do that?’

‘It’s her birthday next week. I thought we could organise a little party for her as a surprise. I want to get the numbers of some of the friends she’s mentioned to me.’

Julie’s eyes light up. ‘Great idea! We’ll need the phone and the password, though. Let me think.’

When the knock comes, Julie hasn’t come back to me with anything, so I think it will have to wait until another day. But I’ve just opened the door when Julie appears behind me.

‘Hi Kirsty, any chance I could borrow your phone for a few minutes? I’ve run out of data and the Wi-Fi here’s a bit iffy, and I promised Mabel I’d do some work with her on the Dot search. You don’t need it while you’re out walking, do you?’

Kirsty doesn’t seem suspicious. She hands it over while Olly runs at her legs, desperate for his walk.

‘See you in a bit,’ she calls over her shoulder as she pushes the buggy down the path. ‘Password is 6082.’

Julie rubs her hands together. ‘Well, that was easy. So what are the names of these friends, then?’

‘Leave it with me,’ I say. ‘Weren’t you going to empty the bins?’

She looks a bit disappointed but goes off to the kitchen all the same. I tap in the password Kirsty told us and manage to find my way to her list of contacts after a bit of trial and error. There’s a number listed under ‘Home’ but it’s our local area code so it’s probably the house she shares with Ben rather than her parents’ house. Ah, here it is. Mum. I scribble the number down on the spiral notebook. It will have to be a text message, I think. If I call her, she’ll wonder why an old woman is organising her daughter’s birthday party. I go to the sideboard and open the top drawer, pull out the telephone I rarely use. Go into messages. It takes me ages to type the message but I get there in the end.

Hello, this is a friend of Kirsty’s. I’m putting together a party for her birthday next week and we’d love you to come.





I send it before I can change my mind. I’ll think about where we can have the party later. There isn’t really enough room here. Patricia’s would be ideal. I haven’t been but Julie says it’s enormous, and it’s right next door to Kirsty’s house so handy for getting her there. When my telephone beeps, it makes me jump.

Hello, thanks for the invite. Are you sure she wants us there?





My stomach churns a bit at that. I don’t know how long it is since they saw each other, whether they’re properly estranged or just not the kind of family who live in each other’s pockets. Julie puts her head in, then, brings me a cup of tea, sits down.

‘Have you got what you need?’ she asks, jerking her head in the direction of Kirsty’s telephone.

‘Yes, all sorted. Do you think Patricia would mind if we had the party at hers?’

She shrugs. ‘I suppose we can only ask.’

I look at her properly for the first time since she arrived. She’s got a bit of sparkle since Martin’s been back on the scene, but behind it, she’s still sad. I’d thought this new development would have erased that. Maybe it’s just that he’s not fully committed yet. He’s not back. I’ll wait until he is and see how she looks then.

When Kirsty returns, she asks if she can come in for a bit. She leaves the buggy on the doorstep and lifts Dotty out of it, and I take Olly off her hands. Julie goes off to make more tea.

‘What is it?’ I ask.

She looks so serious I think for a second she’s going to tell me something awful. I think about the message I sent to her mum, wonder if it’s had some knock-on effect. But no, it can’t have done. She hasn’t had her telephone with her.

‘I’ve loved walking Olly these past few weeks,’ she says.

Ah, so she’s going to say she can’t do it any longer. It’s not the end of the world. I want to stop her from looking like she’s about to cry.

‘It’s fine,’ I say.

‘What is?’

‘If you can’t do it any more.’

‘Oh, it’s not that. I was going to say I’d love to take him, if you’re still looking for that. I’ve fallen in love with him. And I’ve talked to Ben. But I can only imagine how hard it must be to give him up.’

She has Dotty on her lap, facing her, and while she speaks, she is playing. Holding a finger up for Dotty to grab, then pulling it away. Doing little claps for Dotty to copy. Does she know she’s doing this, or is it completely automatic? Even in the middle of a conversation, she is mothering. It’s astonishing to me.

‘He’ll be better off with you,’ I say, surprised to hear my voice wobbling. ‘He’ll love being part of a family. Just… could you give me a couple of days, to get used to it?’

She makes a face at Dotty, crossing her eyes and sticking her tongue out, and the baby laughs, and then Kirsty pulls her in for a tight cuddle.

‘Of course,’ she says to me. ‘Take as long as you need.’

It’s not until she and Julie have both gone that I go back to my telephone, to Kirsty’s mum’s message. I stare at it.