Winterton Blue Read Online Free

says, whispering now.
    Safe from his welcome embrace, Anna sits back down and absorbs this tableau: her mother pulls a handkerchief from inside her sling and puts it to her mouth. Now she is the fragile old lady, badly in shock.
    I’ve asked Marta to bring some tea, says Vernon, You’d like some tea, wouldn’t you, Deanna?
    I certainly would, Mr Savoy, nods Anna, playing her part, And Anna will do just fine, thank you.
    If we’re into abbreviations, you must call me Vern, he says, plumping up a cushion in the window-seat before lowering himself onto it.
    Call him Cabbage, says her mother, back to normal again, We all do. Don’t we, Cabbage?
    Only you, my dear, he says, with a faint smile, Only you.
    Anna squints at Vernon, trying to gauge his expression. Sitting in the window, his face now in shadow, he takes on a hazy silhouette. Anna draws a breath,
    I was just about to suggest to my mother, she says, appealing to Vernon, That a short holiday would do her good.
    Bones like rubber, says her mother, Did I tell you, Cabbage, what the nurses said? I don’t break, me, I
bounce.
    They also said—Vernon picks over his words, searching for the right emphasis—That you’ll need some assistance, my dear, what with your hip so badly
bruised,
and your arm out of
action,
so to speak.
    He turns back to Anna, and with a jerk of his head, adds, She might enjoy a little holiday. I know I would.
    Encouraged by this, Anna begins her speech. She looks from Vernon to her mother and back again.
    I thought she might like to come and stay with me for the winter. To recuperate. I’ve fixed up the garden especially. It’s got a bird-table. It’s got . . . things. Things—in pots.
    The word you’re searching for is plants, says her mother, And I believe we have such
things
in Yarmouth also.
    Vernon rises from his cushion and takes in the room with a broad sweep of his arm. He’s in full character now.
    But that’s stupendous, he says, so that both Anna and her mother look askance.
    Cabbage, there is nothing stupendous about a plant, says her mother.
    No, no, my dear. A vacation in London. We could take in the shows.
    He makes a giddy gesture with his hands, fluttering them either side of his face, and bursts into song,
    Give ’em the old razzle dazzle! Razzle dazzle ’em!
    Anna shoots her mother a worried look.
    It’s from Chicago, says her mother, trying to curb her grin, And there won’t be any razzle dazzle for you, Cabbage, if I ship out to the smoke. What would you do?
    Do? He says, round-eyed.
    Well, where would you
go
?
    Her mother has removed the sling and is bent sideways over the arm of the chair. She rummages about in a desk drawer, pushing papers aside, searching.
    Anna hasn’t got room for both of us in that little flat, she says, finally finding the object she’s been looking for, And I’d have to shut this place up, wouldn’t I?
    At this suggestion, Vernon does an immediate volte-face.
    Of course, it would be very difficult to leave your home, Rita. And Anna must be quite busy, what with her . . . work, he says, not sure of what it is Anna does, Who’d look after you?
    I would! says Anna, I’m not a total imbecile, you know. I
can
look after my own mother.
    I
look after your mother, snaps Vernon, And if I may say so, I do it very well.
    So well that she blacked out and fell down those steps?
    Her mother is fiddling with the sling, pulling at it with her free hand.
    I did not black out, Anna. Will someone help me with this thing?
    It was
I
that took her to the hospital, says Vernon, veering between wheedling and indignation, And I’m sure I’m more useful than someone two hundred miles away.
    Vernon.
Vern.
I’m not two hundred miles away, says Anna, I’m right here.
    Then stay here, darling, says her mother, Stay and look after your old mum.
    Of course I will, says Anna, and in saying it, feels a darkness above her,