Kitty

Chapter 13Moving Home

13

Kitty hovered in the kitchen. It had been a busy day in the gallery. The new owner was making sweeping changes and she’d had to bite her tongue. The dishwasher whirred and the supper was cleared away. Not really a supper – there’d been no cooking, more of a quick ferret around the fridge for the remaining half of a gala pie and the coleslaw left over from the weekend, which she and Theo had eaten with pickles, all washed down with a large glass of red. She was glad to see him with some appetite; by his own admission, his calorie intake since Anna’s passing had been mostly in liquid form.

In truth, she was now idling in the kitchen, finding jobs to keep her out of the sitting room. There was something rather awkward about having Theo under her roof without Sophie present to take up the slack in the silent moments. Also, it had been decades since she’d had a man other than Olly or Sophie’s various boyfriends under her roof and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She tended to spend longer in the bath and the loo just to have some alone time.

‘Anything I can do?’ Theo called.

‘No, just clearing up.’ She ran the cloth under the hot tap again and wrung it out, before reaching into the larder for another bottle of plonk.

Kitty took up her favourite seat at the end of the sofa and curled her feet under her. She had to admit it was nice to have Gunner loping around the place; his presence was comforting and her brisk walk with him over the heath before supper had been invigorating. He too had an aura of sadness about him. His ears drooped and his eyes were a little watery, as if he missed his mamma. He sat down hard on Theo’s feet and let out an almost human sigh, which made them both smile.

‘It’s funny, I consider you one of my oldest friends, you are one of my oldest friends and yet I feel a little awkward. We haven’t spent much time alone together, have we?’ Theo sipped at his glass of wine. ‘Yesterday, when you were in the bath, I felt I should hide in my room, give you some privacy. It felt like spying on a stranger and yet we’ve known each other for most of our lives.’

‘Yep, I suppose our situation is a little odd.’ Kitty tried to look a little surprised, as if she hadn’t just been having very similar thoughts.

‘Apart from picking Sophie up and dropping her off, this week is the first time I’ve properly been inside this house. And the first time I’ve eaten with you, just the two of us.’

‘Yes, probably. If you don’t count cake.’ Kitty silently cursed the words the moment they left her mouth. They were embarrassing, drawing attention to that long-ago afternoon when he had seen her naked, when they had made Sophie. She glanced down at where her wine glass rested against her thickened middle and considered the various other bits of padding she’d acquired; she reached up and touched the space beneath her chin, aware of the loss of definition to her jaw. Theo’s physique had fared well, better than hers, she thought, looking at his slightly weathered face and his dark curly hair. It had thinned, certainly, but was still striking. Age had mellowed his shyness too.

‘I told Sophie about our cake-sharing a while ago. She was intrigued!’ Theo arched an eyebrow. ‘I think she can only see us as her middle-aged parents and not the young things we once were.’

‘Mmm. And because we’ve never been together, she’s probably keen for any glimpse of that. It must make her feel more secure.’

‘I think she is secure, Kitty, despite our best efforts to cock up her childhood.’ He raised his glass to her. ‘You did a good job, you and Angus.’

‘Thank you, Theo. That means the world.’

There was a pause. They both took several sips of their drinks.

‘Have you forgiven Angus?’ Theo reached down and stroked Gunner’s silky ears. ‘I mean, I know it’s a long time ago now, and Sophie and Olly are obviously very much at ease with the whole situation, but I don’t know…’ He paused. ‘It must be tough.’

‘It was, but not so much now. I was angry for a long time. Angus became scarily good at leading a double life… He was like a photographer who clicked his fingers trying to get my attention, and I was so busy looking at that hand, I didn’t see what the other was doing. But I wasn’t exactly blameless either…’

She looked up at Theo. He held her gaze and gave a reassuring little nod.

They’d had a big conversation two nights earlier, Theo asking sweet, gently probing questions about Angus’s reaction to her pregnancy with Sophie, listening intently as she’d tried to make it clear how Angus had held all the cards, how her being so grateful to him for not rejecting her had made her blind to what was really going on.

She coughed. ‘I should never have cheated on him, no matter that it was spur of the moment and we were sloshed.’ She swirled her glass. ‘That’s no excuse, I know, and I sometimes wonder if it was me trying to find a way out, you know, as if my subconscious was kicking me, acting on something that had lain dormant in me for a number of years.’ She felt bold admitting this.

Theo returned his attention to Gunner.

‘But now, if anything, I feel sorry for Angus. He felt he couldn’t be himself, denied his sexuality and we all suffered because of it. His parents are very odd, narrow-minded and a bit mean, and he was confused, fighting against nature, which is tough, impossible. It was very different for me than if he’d cheated on me with a woman. I knew I could never compete. I had nothing that he wanted and that made me feel…’

‘Rejected. Useless.’

‘Yes.’ She nodded, wondering if Theo, like her, was thinking of the letter she’d written him.

She took a deep breath. ‘But you know what, Theo, we’re all in our fifties nearly, not kids any more, and life feels settled. I don’t care about the things I used to care about, and the things I didn’t use to care about now feel terribly important. It seems to me that life is like a constantly moving see-saw and once you get past middle-age you stop worrying about which way it tilts and start just enjoying the ride.’

‘I can’t say I’m enjoying much at the moment.’ He sniffed.

‘I know, but you will, Theo.’

To her horror, he placed his hand over his eyes and started to sob once again. ‘I miss her so much. I can’t stand it!’

And just like that, she was reminded of her friend’s very raw grief and the reason he was there.

*

By the time Theo had been there a full fortnight, the two had fallen into a routine of sorts. It was now Thursday evening and Kitty was listening to the rain hitting the windows post-supper. Theo sat down at the kitchen table and opened the newspaper.

‘Has Gunner been out for his run?’ Kitty bent down to pet the dog’s beautiful ears.

‘Yes, I took him earlier. Thankfully before the deluge.’

‘Cup of tea, Theo?’

‘Yes, please.’

His telephone buzzed on the tabletop. She tried not to listen in to his conversation, but it was hard not to.

‘No, not at all, just about to have a cup of tea.’ He paused. ‘Yes. Yes, I know.’

Kitty left him to it and went into the sitting room to plump the cushions, gather the dirty mugs that lurked by the sides of the chairs and swoosh her hand over the dusty mantelpiece. She heard Theo laugh softly and felt a flash of joy at the lovely sound, which rippled through the house.

She bit her lip and tried to remember the Serenity Prayer she’d learnt in school. Truth was, it was doing her no good living in such close proximity to this man. It unsettled her, how quickly she’d got used to his presence at the breakfast table, the sound of him visiting the bathroom at night, the scent of him lingering on a towel. It was a reminder of a life she couldn’t have. She tried to remember all the pluses of living a solitary life: being able to swig straight from the juice carton, wander around in her knickers, break into spontaneous song if the mood took her, eat nothing but heavily buttered crackers for supper and fart on the sofa at will. She walked now towards the dishwasher, gripping the dirty mugs tightly.

‘That was Spud.’ He nodded at the phone on the table.

‘How’s he doing?’

‘Good. I’m surprised you couldn’t hear him – his voice carries.’

‘He calls a lot. He’s a good friend to you, Theo.’ She remembered their conversation at Anna’s funeral.

‘He is. He promised to call every day and he has. I’ve told him there is absolutely no need, but he says it puts his mind at rest.’

She knew how that felt. It was the same for her with the kids.

‘He says he’s checking in, but I think “checking up” would be more accurate. He and Kumi have invited me to go and stay…’ He sighed. ‘They have the space, but there’s a new grandchild, a little boy, and… It’s such a happy time, I think in my present mood I might only take the joy out of the moment. Plus it’s such a long way.’

‘Ah, a little boy! Spud said his daughter was expecting. How lovely. What’s his name?’

‘Kento.’

‘Kento… I haven’t heard that before, it’s nice.’ Kento, Kento… She practised the sound in her head.

‘Miyu becoming a mum makes me feel very old.’

‘You are very old.’

‘There you go again with your sugary compliments.’ They both chuckled. ‘But it’s a privilege, isn’t it, getting older? I never really thought of it like that until recently, but I know I would have been thankful for every extra year Anna got. It’s made me think of my friend, Mr Porter – you remember the groundsman?’

‘I do indeed.’ She looked at him wistfully as he ran his finger over the fishing fly pinned inside his shirt pocket. He did that quite a lot.

‘He and his wife only got weeks together after the war. That feels especially cruel, doesn’t it? To be separated by conflict only to be denied a life together afterwards. I didn’t overly consider the tragedy of it until I lost Anna.’

‘That is sad.’

‘I’m not going to go to Washington.’ He rallied. ‘The thought of being fussed over by Spud’s neurotic wife is more than I can stand. It’s kind of them to offer though,’ he added.

‘It is kind.’ She poured the water from the reboiled kettle onto the teabags.

‘Shall we watch our next episode of MasterChef ?’ he asked.

‘Ooh yes, what time?’

He looked at his phone. ‘On in twenty minutes.’

She smiled, thinking how nice it was to share this small thing with him, watching the programme they loved with a cup of tea. She looked at Theo and he held her eye and something seemed to stir, a realisation, an awakening that was both unexpected and disturbing.

Theo cleared his throat and folded his newspaper. ‘I guess I should start thinking about going home. I can’t stay here forever, getting under your feet.’

Kitty turned to face him. ‘You are not under my feet. You go when you’re ready, Theo. No rush. But you do need to go home. You need to get back on track, and being here, as welcome as you are, both of you…’ She looked at Gunner with fondness. ‘… it feels a bit like hiding out, and that won’t take you forward, not in the long run.’

‘No. At least I’ve stopped trying to seek oblivion in the bottom of a whisky bottle.’

‘Yes! And I am glad about that. Anna wouldn’t want you permanently pissed or moping around.’

‘I know. I do feel a bit better.’ He cleared his throat again. ‘I can’t imagine my heart hurting any less than it does and I can’t imagine not seeing her behind my eyelids every time I blink, but I don’t feel like I’m falling any more, so that’s good. Solid ground beneath my feet and all that.’

‘Maybe your heart won’t ever hurt any less, maybe how it is now is your new normal and you have to find a way to build a life around it.’

I have had to do that, Theo, more than once, and it’s possible, if not easy…

He nodded. ‘Thank you for having me here, Kitty. It has meant more to me than you will ever know.’

‘Any time, my old friend.’ She placed the mug of tea in front of him. And to me too, my dear old friend, my Theo. I shall miss your presence more than I could ever say, but I know it’s the right thing, for us both. Time to move on. We mustn’t dwell on what might have been. ‘I will always be a short cab ride away or on the end of a phone, okay?’

‘Okay.’ Theo forced a smile and stared up at her and just for an instant he looked like the boy who had sat opposite her in the booth, the one with whom she had shared a slice of dry Victoria sponge. ‘I’ll go and put the telly on.’

‘Righto!’ She beamed as he and Gunner lumbered from the kitchen. ‘I’ll be in in just a mo.’ She took a second to brace her arms on the countertop and close her eyes to stop the maddening flow of tears.

*

‘So Theo has gone back to Barnes?’ Kitty could tell that Tizz was eating as she spoke into the receiver.

‘Yes, the day before yesterday. The house feels very quiet. What is it you are eating so noisily?’

‘Chocolates, left over from Daisy-Belle’s birthday party.’

‘Aren’t they Daisy-Belle’s?’

‘Not any more.’ Tizz laughed. ‘Are you missing him – Theo?’

‘No! Not at all. It was good to help him out, the right thing to do, but I need my space.’

‘Oh God, yes! Above all you need your space, Kitty!’ Tizz laughed.

‘What do you mean by that? What are you insinuating?’

‘Nothing! I’m just saying that you have this hot guy under your roof who you have been intimate with in the past and all you can think about is when you can get the sofa to yourself! You could have had some fun!’

‘Christ, Tizz! He is grieving the loss of his wife. He is about as far from wanting to have fun as it’s possible to be.’ She tutted loudly to emphasise her dislike of the topic.

‘Ah, I notice you aren’t saying you’re against it, but rather that he’s not ready. Very interesting…’

‘You are putting words into my mouth!’

‘If you say so. I’m not sure I ever asked, but what was sex like with Theo?’

‘For God’s sake, that was thirty years ago, Tizz! I am not talking about it now!’

‘Why not? I’m just curious. I mean, you don’t have to say, but it’s good to chat like this.’

‘Good for who? Not me. You are just so nosey!’ Kitty giggled.

‘Only because I care.’

‘It was lovely.’

‘Lovely? Is that all I’m getting?’

‘Yes.’ Kitty smiled, not only at the memory but also at the use of the word. ‘It was lovely.’

‘So if you had to give both him and Angus a score out of—’

‘Oh for God’s sake! I am not prepared to talk about this with you any more. It’s bloody nuts.’

‘I know when you’re holding back.’ Tizz wasn’t giving up.

Kitty was as surprised as her friend by the sudden, noisy onset of tears.

‘Oh God, Kitty, I am so sorry, darling, I wouldn’t upset you for the world. I was only teasing! I feel terrible. I thought it was funny, trying to make you talk about sexy stuff!’

‘It’s not your fault.’ Kitty took a breath. ‘Sex with Theo was beautiful, just beautiful, and having him here has been so nice, like letting me look through a little window at a world that I can never live in. I will be okay, I will,’ she said determinedly. ‘But I’m not okay right now.’

‘You don’t know what’s around the corner, Kitty. You—’

‘I do. I do know, and it’s not that, so the sooner I stop thinking those thoughts, the better. Anyway…’ She sat up straight and pulled herself together. ‘The reason for my call was to tell you I’m taking a little bit of time away from the gallery and going up to stay with Dad for a week or so. If there are any problems with the house, you have your key, right?’

‘I do. Are you going alone?’

Kitty caught the suggestive tone to her question.

‘Yes, I am going alone. Now sod off.’ She laughed, wiping away the last of her tears. ‘I’ll call you when I’m back.’

‘Love you! Safe travels!’

‘Love you too.’ Kitty ended the call and looked at the open suitcase on her bed. She listened to the quiet of the house and pictured Theo sitting in the chair by the fireplace with Gunner by his feet. Maybe Tizz was right. It had been nice to have company…

‘Oh don’t be ridiculous, Kitty. You are a grown bloody woman, not a teenager.’ She slammed the lid of her suitcase and zipped it up with more force than was necessary.

*

It was as she programmed the satnav and placed her handbag on the front seat of her Golf that she decided to give Theo a quick ring.

‘How are you doing? Settled back home okay?’

‘Yes.’ He took a breath. ‘I still don’t like it here, but I feel able to cope, which is progress, I guess.’

‘It is! Massive progress. Be kind to yourself, Theo. Be patient. You’ve been through a lot, you have to give yourself time.’

‘Yup. I was thinking I wish I hadn’t taken early retirement. It seemed like a good idea when I wanted to spend my days at home, but now…’

‘You need a project.’

‘Yes, I do.’ He sniffed. ‘A project.’

‘Anyway, I shan’t keep you.’ She glanced at the clock. She needed to leave soon to avoid the London rush hour. ‘Just wanted to let you know I’m going up to Scotland to stay with my dad for a week or so.’

‘Oh, how are you getting up there?’

‘I’m driving.’

‘Driving? That’s some road trip. Well, be careful, won’t you. Take it steady.’

She liked the note of concern in his reaction. ‘I will. I’ve done it a million times and I stop in the same three places for coffee, the loo and a nap.’

‘Sounds like you have it down to a fine art.’

‘I do.’ She nodded. ‘Call any time, Theo, if things get you down or you just want to talk. I know Sophie’s around, but it can’t do any harm to have me as a back-up to her and Spud.’

‘Thanks, Kitty. I think I might set a fire. It’s chilly tonight.’

‘Yes. Well, night-night, Theo. And, look, if you get lonely, come up to Darraghfield. Come to Scotland!’ She felt the sting of embarrassment on her cheeks, as if she had overstepped a mark. She bit her thumb, silently cursing Tizz for her stupid and fanciful suggestions that had undoubtedly influenced her offer. Idiot.

‘Thank you,’ he replied coolly.

What was I thinking? As she indicated out of her street and onto the Hare and Billet Road, she turned up the radio and sang loudly, ‘If I could turn back time…’

*

Kitty pulled the shoulder of lamb from the Aga and placed it on the stained cork tablemat in the centre of the kitchen table. She stood still and looked at her dad, who sat at the head of the table, his beard thinner and now peppered with grey, his face a little gaunt, but his demeanour calm.

‘God, Dad, after all this time, I was counting in my head three plates, three sets of cutlery…’

‘I know.’ He looked skywards. ‘I still do it. I chat to her during the day, just the odd thing here and there, telling her what I might have for breakfast or if Patrick’s called with any of his news. And I talk about the photos that Ruraigh and Hamish send of the kids and of course I keep her up to date with all that Soph and Olly get up to.’ He smiled at her, his wonderful crinkly eyes almost closing, as if giving thanks, his look confirming that his grandchildren, indeed his family, were still his greatest joy. ‘These chats I have with her are so real, so relevant that when I pop the kettle on, I often grab two mugs…’

‘Has it not got any easier, Dad? Do you miss her as much now as you always did? I ask because my friend Theo has just lost his Anna.’

‘Sophie’s Theo?’

‘Yes.’

Again, she felt the desire to say that had he not been her Theo to start with then there would not have been a Sophie! She was unsure why this bothered her so much.

Her dad dipped the big spoon into the peas and sage-buttered carrots, loading a healthy heap onto his plate. ‘A terrible business. Sophie sounded so upset when I spoke to her. She loved Anna.’ He used the big spoon to dive into the crispy tatties; she’d cooked them in goose fat, just as Marjorie had shown her more years ago than she cared to remember.

‘We all did. She was a wonderful woman.’

Her dad nodded. He watched her intently as she placed two thick slices of soft lamb onto his plate. She added another and another and it was only then, with the mountain of food in front of him, that he raised his palm to indicate ‘when’. He smothered the food with dark, glossy gravy from the white gravy boat.

‘It has got easier.’ He piled up his fork. ‘And at first I felt guilty that it had, as though I should stay in some permanent state of mourning to show how devoted I was to her.’ He put the food into his mouth and chewed with slow appreciation.

‘And then?’

‘And then…’ He swallowed. ‘I realised that I could still love her, still miss her, but I could also carry on with life. That’s it. It was that simple for me.’

‘I miss Mum too.’

‘I know, hen.’ He smiled at her and then turned his attention back to the lamb. ‘I’ve never met Theo. That’s strange for me, being that he’s Sophie’s dad.’

‘I guess it is strange. It’s a funny old relationship really. I’ve known him since my first day at Vaizey and yet I feel as if I’m only just getting to know him now. He came to stay with me in Blackheath—’

‘Yes, Olly told me.’

‘It was nice, odd in a way, because we’ve never spent that much time alone, but nice.’

‘And what’s his Lordship up to?’

‘Oh, you know, Dad, had a falling out with Nikolai by all accounts, but I think that’s just how it is. They seem happy, volatile – maybe that’s passion, who knows?’

‘Hmmmf.’ He forked more food into his mouth. ‘I wish I’d had the confidence to voice what my instincts were telling me.’

‘Oh, Dad, not that again.’ She’d lost count of the times they’d raked over this.

Stephen rested his knife and fork on the edge of the plate and finished his mouthful. ‘The thing that makes me so mad, Kitty, is that you didn’t get the life you deserved. Who knows where you might have ended up or with whom?’

‘I can’t think like that, Dad, or I’d drive myself crazy! I have to think about what I do have – the kids, my lovely home, my friends, my job in the gallery…’

‘Yes, but what I wanted for you was all that and more. I wanted you to move up here and take over Darraghfield. I wanted you to know a love like the one your mother and I shared! God, she made every day worth waking for, even the bad ones. I never lost the wonder of how someone like her could love someone like me! Never.’

He placed his hand on his chest as if heartburn had bitten. And just like that, Kitty’s appetite flew out of the window and whistled down the glen. She looked at his expression and knew that despite his words, living without the woman he had so loved was anything but simple.

*

Four days in and there was something about waking in her childhood bedroom that made her feel happy, encased in the soft surroundings that had nurtured her. She might have more years behind her than ahead, but when at Darraghfield she shrugged off many of her worries, slept soundly, put the minutiae of life out of her mind and reverted to her carefree childhood self, treading barefoot over the wooden floors and dusty flagstones.

She stretched and looked out of the window at the rising sun, an idea forming.

‘Where are you off to?’ her dad asked as he cut the loaf on the breadboard ready for toast. The jam pot, marmalade and butter dish were already on the breakfast table.

‘I’m off for a swim!’

‘I hope it’s warm enough.’

‘It’ll be great.’ Gathering her bathrobe around her and with her towel in one hand, she pulled on some old tennis shoes she found in the boot room and trotted down the gravel path, over the shrub border, across the patch of grass and through the narrow gap in the laurel hedge. Even at her age, this narrow gap still felt like a secret. Throwing her towel onto one of the wicker steamer chairs, she paused, taking in the perfect vista as she stood on the edge with her long, pale toes curled around the curved lip of the tiles. The sunlight danced on the surface as it shifted in the breeze and the Roman steps at the far end wobbled, distorted in their watery home.

Kitty bent her knees and angled her back slowly, ignoring the creak to her limbs, and just as her dad had shown her when she was no more than a girl, with her head tucked, arms level with her ears and hands reaching out, she leapt and pushed herself forward, feeling the immediate thrill of breaking the surface as the water rippled from her form. Working quickly, she propelled herself forward, hands slightly cupped, waggling her feet, moving at speed until her fingertips touched the opposite wall. She flipped around awkwardly and headed back, feeling the delicious pull of her ageing, aching muscles against the resistance of the water.

Eight, maybe ten lengths later and her breath came fast. She trod water and wriggled her finger first in one ear and then the other, then smoothed the droplets from her face with her wrinkled palm. She felt both peaceful and very much alive. The sun warmed her freckled skin and all was right with her world.

She lay on her back in a semi-doze as the water lapped at her ears. Lying like this turned the world into a quiet place, a refuge of sorts. Her stomach groaned and she pictured the breakfast she would eat: crispy bacon, shiny fried eggs peppered with sea salt, thickly buttered toast, maybe a roasted tomato or two…

She had no idea how long she stayed like that – minutes, an hour? Her hold on time was skewed, so lost was she to the water. But then, quite unexpectedly, she sensed a change to the shape of her world.

A dark shadow loomed between Kitty and the sunshine.

Slowly she opened her eyes to see a man standing on the poolside. He stood with his hands in his pockets, shirtsleeves rolled above the elbow. She blinked. Embarrassment made her right herself in the water. Ashamed that he’d seen her in a state of complete abandonment, her blush flared.

She stared at the man, who smiled at her, and felt the unmistakable twist of joy in her heart at the very sight of him. She quite forgot she was wearing her swimming costume that was unflattering and bobbly in places. Truth was, she could barely think straight.

‘Theo!’ she called out, astonished and delighted in equal measure. ‘Oh my God! Theo! You came!’

‘It would appear so.’ He smiled at her. ‘It was only as the cab was dropping me off at the bottom of the drive that I considered the possibility that you might have only been being polite in inviting me. But here I am!’ He raised his arms and let them fall.

‘Not at all, it’s lovely to see you!’ she said with enthusiasm. ‘Who’s got Gunner?’ She looked to his side, half expecting the lovely boy to come bounding through the hedge.

‘Our niece, Kaylee. She has two young kids who just adore him, so he’ll be spoilt rotten.’

‘Lovely!’ Kitty trod water and looked at the towel on the back of the steamer chair, wondering how she might retrieve it without revealing too much of her body.

‘Can you grab my towel?’ She nodded towards it and watched as he walked round to gather it into his hands.

‘This is really some place!’ His gaze swept the roofline of Darraghfield and then took in the enclosed area around the pool. He handed her the towel and continued to look up, out towards the garden, ever the gentleman.

Kitty hauled herself up out of the water and dried herself off before pulling her bathrobe on with relief. She ran her fingers through her hair, spraying water droplets around her in an arc.

‘It is, isn’t it? I never get sick of it. It’s where I feel most at home.’

‘I remember you saying as much when we were kids.’ He kicked the flat, warm stone of the pool edge. ‘So this is where you tried to earn your gills?’

‘Yes!’ She laughed, remembering their conversations over the years. ‘I love it here. This little spot right here, it’s my favourite place on earth…’ She smiled, displacing any potentially melancholic reflections. ‘I was just thinking about breakfast. Are you hungry?’

‘I am. I got the sleeper train but didn’t do much sleeping!’ He took in a full lung of fresh air.

The two walked back through the hedge, side by side.

‘Dad!’ she called out as she made her way through the wood-panelled corridors and across the hallway back to the kitchen, Theo now walking behind her. ‘Dad, we have a guest!’

‘Oh?’ Stephen looked up from the breakfast table and stood quickly with his hand outstretched.

‘Dad…’ She paused. ‘This is Theo. Theo Montgomery.’

‘Well, I never did! Sophie’s Theo?’ He took Theo’s hand warmly inside his and held the top of his arm with his left hand.

‘Yes, Sophie’s Theo.’ Theo answered with something that sounded like relief, but his expression was one of pure pride. He clearly loved being Sophie’s Theo, and Kitty felt none of the irritation from before.

‘Well, I never did!’ her dad repeated. ‘And here you are! Sit down, sit down.’ He pulled out a chair while Kitty filled the dented black enamel kettle and popped it onto the top of the Aga.

‘That takes me back.’ Theo stared at the kettle. ‘When I was a kid, I used to hang around with the groundsman at school.’ He smiled at Kitty’s dad. ‘He was to have a massive influence on my life, actually. And he had a kettle just like that. I’ve not thought about it for years until now.’

‘Ours is as old as the hills, but I’d rather patch it up than fetch a new one. I think every celebration and commiseration over the last few decades has been marked by the setting of that very kettle on the stove. It contains all of our history.’

The two men stared at the Aga, as if both lost in their memories.

‘Do you know Scotland?’ Kitty’s dad leant on the tabletop and Kitty was reminded how he came alive with company.

‘My father used to come up every year to shoot. We’d stay up at Arbereekie.’

‘Oh, I know it well!’ Her dad spoke fondly, clearly delighted at the connection.

‘I can’t say I was a good shot; in fact I never got that far. The first time I saw the bird in the gundog’s mouth, I cried – it seemed unfair. I was only a child, but I think I rather embarrassed the old man.’ Theo laughed softly.

‘Nothing to be embarrassed about there.’ Her dad sat up straight. ‘You have compassion and an affinity for nature, a love for it, well, that’s important for anyone who wants to live close to the land. The respect, it’s not something you can teach. Do you know my boys, my nephews, Ruraigh and Hamish?’

‘I do indeed. They were a year or two above me at Vaizey. And of course those two years were like a lifetime when we were younger, but I see them from time to time, usually with Sophie, and that couple of years’ difference was erased a long time ago.’

‘It happens! We all end up the same age, we all end up old!’ Stephen laughed and banged the table.

‘Speak for yourself!’ Kitty joined in, feeling, for the first time in an age, anything but old.

A quietness washed over them, as if they were all thinking of Anna, who had not had the chance to get old.

‘I was very sorry to hear about the passing of your wife,’ Stephen offered sincerely.

‘Thank you.’ Theo swallowed. ‘I have days when I’m doing well and then others when it feels like it happened only yesterday.’

‘Yes, well, I don’t know if this helps or not, but I still feel that way, and my wife died many years ago now.’

‘I remember Kitty talking about you both at school; she said you were like her best friends and I had never heard anything like it. Parents like friends…?’ He shook his head. ‘It was another world to me.’

‘You weren’t close to your own parents, Theo?’

‘It was difficult. Or rather my dad was difficult. I don’t think I was ever going to live up to his expectations or meet his high demands.’ He looked at the floor.

‘Well, goodness me, what a foolish man, if you don’t mind me saying. And from the way my family talk about you, having the gift of a fellow like you for a son…?’ Stephen shook his head. ‘That’s a thing most men can only dream of.’

Theo’s face coloured at the compliment.

‘It’s good to finally meet you, Theo. Did you know his Lordship?’

‘Dad!’ Kitty rolled her eyes at Theo. ‘He is referring to Angus, who, as you might have gathered, is still a sensitive subject.’ She cracked eggs into the skillet, where a nub of lard had melted.

‘I did. Again, not as friends, but our paths have crossed.’

‘He was never straightforward, Theo. My wife used to say it.’

‘Dad, please don’t start with the shifty-eyed thing!’

Theo laughed. ‘It can’t have been easy for him.’ He spoke softly. ‘And Sophie loves him and that’s everything, I guess.’

Stephen looked at Theo with fondness. ‘As I said, you have compassion, Theo. That’s no bad thing. And you look a chap straight in the eye!’

‘Bacon?’ Kitty yelled, wary of the conversation straying into areas that might make some or all of them uncomfortable. ‘Who wants bacon?’

*

It was a happy few days. Kitty tried and failed to interest Theo in the clay-pigeon shoot in the lower paddock and he made a ham-fisted attempt at catching a trout for the grill. Luckily, she and her dad were on hand to scoop up three fat examples, and these were sizzled on the barbecue until the beautiful skin was blackened and the flesh had turned a comforting shade of pale pink. Adding a squeeze of lemon, a chunk of soda bread, rips of lettuce and a large spoonful of buttered new potatoes, the trio feasted on them as the sun began to sink, eating from plates resting on their laps as they sat on the front patio with the glen stretching out below them as far as the eye could see.

‘Can I get you another beer, Theo?’ Stephen reached down into the slightly battered cooler by his side and plucked a pale bottle from the iced water.

‘Thank you.’ Theo stretched across and took the beer eagerly.

They all enjoyed each other’s company and Kitty was pleased. It was good to see Theo becoming a little less tense and she found a new lightness in herself that made the world a happier place.

‘I’m getting a tad chilly.’ Stephen rubbed his arms. ‘Think I might call it a night.’

Kitty stretched up to receive his kiss on her cheek as he left. She watched him walk slowly back into the house before pulling the tartan rug over her legs and zipping up her long- sleeved fleece. With the dropping sun, the temperature was indeed a little cool.

‘You warm enough there, Theo?’

‘Yep.’ He pulled on his jersey before taking the other rug and tucking it over his lap.

‘I feel a bit woozy.’ She sipped her fourth glass of white and gave a little laugh.

‘Can’t think why.’ He eyed her glass. ‘Maybe that trout was a bit off?’

They both chuckled.

‘Nothing wrong with the trout.’ She sighed.

The two enjoyed a comfortable silence between topics. It was a nice state of being.

‘I remember you telling me you’d been fishing before, the day Soph and I saw you at Vaizey. You said you’d hated it.’

He reached up and ran his hand under the collar of his shirt. ‘I still wear this fishing fly that Mr Porter gave me. It reminds me of him and all he taught me.’ He swallowed. ‘But yes, you’re right. I’m sorry to say that the actual fishing was not for me.’

‘You were fond of him.’

‘I was, very. I know it was different for you, but school was a tough time for me. It shaped me, and a lot of the hurt was so ingrained, I couldn’t let it go—’

‘There’s something I want to tell you, Theo,’ she interrupted.

‘Oh?’

‘I was there the day of the big fight in the quad.’ A look of surprise and embarrassment crept over his face. ‘I was behind one of the pillars – I’d just arrived back after the summer break.’ She drew breath. ‘I didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to help. It was horrible.’

‘It was. Horrible.’

‘I’ve never known how to mention it, but… I understand what you went through and I’m sorry. How did you put it behind you, that whole horrible time?’ She sat forward, sincere.

Theo took a deep breath. ‘Anna taught me how. Also, I eventually faced up to my tormentor and, weirdly enough, we became quite good friends—’

‘Wilson?’ She cut in again, disbelieving.

‘Yes, Wilson. Magnus. I gave him a job.’

‘You did?’

‘Yes. We worked well together for years. We actually had quite a lot in common.’

She let the gentle breeze flow over her, lifting her hair from her face. ‘I am glad you came up.’

‘Me too.’

‘It’s weird, isn’t it…’

‘What’s weird?’ He took a swig from the bottle.

‘Us. Here I am with this guy who was my friend at school, no more, who ended up being the dad to my precious girl – our precious girl,’ she corrected. ‘We’ve been in each other’s lives for a long time – we just kind of fell in together, didn’t we?’

‘I guess we did.’

‘I always felt okay if you were around, Theo, especially at school.’

‘I can relate to that.’ He smiled. ‘I was pretty smitten with you for a long time – until Anna, really.’

‘I think I probably knew that, and that day when we met, the Sophie day, when we went for coffee and then the pub, I was so happy to see you. It was the first time I had the tiniest flicker of doubt over marrying Angus. And I know how bad that sounds, but it’s true. I had this little sliver of reflection, a “what if” moment. But I buried it. And the rest, as they say, is history.’

‘I guess we all have those regrets, those “what if” moments. Since losing Anna, I’ve often wished I could go back to the start of our marriage and do things differently.’

‘In what way?’

His gaze dropped. ‘I wasn’t always as emotionally present as I could have been, not in the beginning.’

‘Emotionally present? Is this your ex therapist speaking?’

‘Yes.’ He laughed and she liked his honesty.

He looked out at the big Highlands sky. ‘We had a rough start. Anna was terribly keen for us to have kids, I denied her that and… and that will haunt me forever. Then she found out about Sophie in a way that was very hurtful to her, and… we spent some time apart.’ His voice got wobbly, but he collected himself and continued. ‘But then we came to our senses and kind of settled into each other. We had everything we wanted – a simple life with our dog Griff, and then Molly, who was a lovely puppy, and then Gunner. Everything except kids.’

Kitty finished her glass and reached for the bottle of wine by her side. ‘It’s sad you didn’t get to adopt in the end.’

‘It is, but Anna came to dearly love being part of Sophie’s life. Her role as second mum was one of her most cherished.’

Kitty smiled; she knew this.

‘And she had our niece, Kaylee, who’s now a mum herself. And her godsons, the twins from St Lucia, now both grown-up, of course, both lawyers with their own practice in New York. Lovely boys. Who I think you might have met?’

‘Yes.’

‘They all flocked to her, all of them. And it was enough, as the years went by. It satisfied her craving for motherhood. And we liked our time alone.’

‘I don’t think Angus and I ever liked our time alone. He was always a little on edge, as if he needed to be elsewhere, and that unease was quite infectious. He made me jumpy.’

‘Your dad is still mad with him and I understand that. If someone led Sophie along like that…’

‘I get it too.’ There was really nothing more Kitty wanted to say on the topic.

‘I could never have cheated on Anna. My dad was a serial philanderer and it still punches me in the gut if I think about his behaviour.’

‘Because you are a good man, Theo.’

‘So people tell me. I don’t know about that, but I know that when Anna and I started out I was selfish, so selfish.’ He shook his head.

‘You can’t keep beating yourself up, Theo. Not forever.’

‘And yet you still reflect on how Angus was dishonest or, at the very least, selfish. I think we both agree that you owe it to your spouse to be open about the grand plan, about what you’re hoping for out of the marriage. Otherwise it’s not fair: one leads and the other gets dragged along, hoping they can stay upright on the path that only one of you can see…’

‘I guess so. And yes, if that’s how it is, then it’s bloody selfish!’ she said frostily.

There was an awkward silence.

‘Sorry, Theo, I shouldn’t have said that. I just get angry when I remember what it felt like to know I’d been “dragged along”, as you put it.’

He looked over at her. ‘Do you think less of me, if that’s what I did to Anna?’

‘Yes, a little bit. She was so wonderful, open, kind.’

He sighed and gave a small nod. ‘I hate myself for having done those things. I hate my weakness, my deceit and most of all I hate the hurt I caused.’

Kitty stayed quiet.

‘I was afraid, so afraid. Cowardly, really. I should have listened to her.’

‘But you didn’t.’

‘No, I didn’t. Her constant attempts at reassurance just messed with my head and I know she… she deserved better, much better.’

‘We all do.’ Kitty wrapped her arms around her trunk, trying to ward off the chill that was creeping into her bones. The sob that left her chest was quite unexpected, and it was followed by a steady torrent of tears that were one part sadness, two parts Chardonnay.

‘Oh, Kitty, don’t cry.’ He reached over and took her hand.

She liked the feeling of her hand curled in his warm palm. She liked it very much. It was rare to feel the joy of human contact. Slipping from her chair, she came to kneel in front of him and laid her head on the tartan blanket that covered his knees.

‘Sometimes, if I let myself think about everything, it all feels too much,’ she whispered hoarsely.

He leant forward and she felt the touch of his palm against her scalp. Her tears continued to fall, her sadness anchoring them to the spot.

‘Don’t cry,’ he whispered. ‘Please don’t cry. I hate to see you so sad. Talk to me.’

She shook her head. It was too hard to put into words the real reason for her tears. Lost moments, wasted years, and love… The love I have had, the love I have been denied and the love I have lost.

‘Theo?’ she said softly.

‘Yes?’

‘Would you mind if we didn’t talk? Would it be okay if we just sat like this for a minute?’

His hand resting on her made her feel peaceful, in the way that a sincere human touch often did.

‘Sure we can.’ He ran his thumb up under her sleeve and over the kink in her left arm.

After a while, she sat back on her haunches and looked up at him. She stared at her lifelong friend and one-time lover and wondered if he, like her, felt ripples of longing pulsing through him.

‘I like being with you, Theo. I have always liked being with you and I have this feeling that is scary and yet wonderful. And it’s because of you.’

Theo looked up sharply, then focused his gaze on the horizon, which shimmered in the moonlight. To Kitty it seemed like an age before he answered.

‘I… I never thought you might feel that way about me, Kitty.’ There was another unnervingly long pause. ‘Lord knows, I wished for it long enough throughout school and long after, but…’

‘But?’ There was a hard edge to her voice and she could sense her tears building.

‘I think…’ The slow nature of his delivery was maddening to her. ‘I think I am so bound up in Anna, my love for Anna, my loss of Anna… It’s all I can see.’ He shrugged, as if it were that simple, and she could see that for him, of course, it was.

He rose suddenly, as if stung, and she recoiled in horror.

‘Theo! I’m sorry, I didn’t—’

He raised his palm, halting her mid sentence, dropped the tartan blanket onto the chair and strode purposefully across the lawn, disappearing inside Darraghfield.