Chapter 18
For a week Lily had dreamed of trying to kiss Nick, but every time they got close Jessica was there.
It was becoming uncomfortable at rehearsals, as she was sure she was red every time she spoke to him, and Jessica wasn’t letting up with her overtly friendly manner with Nick and her snide asides to Lily.
In the morning one week after their dinner, she went to the bathroom, washed her face and applied some skincare and cleaned her teeth and then grabbed her script and went downstairs to set up breakfast.
When Gran was downstairs, they were sitting in silence as they ate, Lily learning her lines and Gran reading the newspaper, when her phone sounded a text.
Feel like running lines? she read from Nick. I’m behind.
Lily smiled as she typed back.
‘Who is that?’ asked Gran, peering over her glasses frames at Lily.
‘Nosy Nora,’ said Lily with a laugh.
‘I have to be. I don’t get texts. All my friends died before they could even work out how to open a phone, let alone send a message.’
Lily made a sad face. ‘That must be hard, seeing your friends pass before you.’
Gran nodded. ‘It’s lonely,’ she admitted.
Lily reread the message. ‘It’s Nick. He want to run lines for the show,’ she said.
Gran pretended to bat her eyelashes.
Lily ignored her and typed back: Sure, you working today? I’m home with Gran all day.
I’m off today, so I’ll come by mid-morning.
Come for lunch, she typed back.
Done, see you at 12.30.
She put down her phone.
‘He’s coming for lunch and then to run lines,’ she said. ‘We can run them in the garden.’
Gran smiled. ‘I used to love learning a script. Now I can’t remember my own birthday some days, which is just as well because then I don’t have to think about how old I am.’ She cackled to herself and Lily laughed.
‘If you didn’t know how old you are, like take away the old bones and aches, how old do you feel in your heart?’ she asked Violet.
The old woman paused, thinking for a moment.
‘Probably thirty-four. I was happy, pregnant, living here. Martin was alive; it was all so lovely and perfect.’
Lily smiled. ‘That’s gorgeous.’
‘What about you?’ asked Violet.
Lily sighed and closed her eyes. ‘I think, to be honest.’ She opened them. ‘I feel about twelve in my heart, when I was here with you and everything was so simple and easy.’
Violet reached for Lily’s hand. ‘You know it can still be simple and easy.’
‘Being a grown-up is hard.’ Lily sighed. ‘I’m twenty-nine, no real career success, no boyfriend or family. I don’t even own a house and I’m in a local village show, which is the only leading role I’ve had in a year. I’m a bit of a failure.’
‘Don’t speak about the person I love like that,’ Gran admonished. ‘You’re not a failure; you’re just a little bit lost. Stay the course, see where this path takes you.’
As Lily cleaned up after breakfast and prepared a plate of meats and salad for lunch, she thought about Gran’s words. See where this path takes you.
For the past twenty-nine years she had been on a path that hadn’t given her much joy.
Everyday felt hard and as though she were dragging herself through a field of rocks and potholes.
Nothing had really grown in it and here she was wishing she was twelve again.
What would she have done differently? she wondered.
It was a scary thought to even consider she might have had another path than the one she had taken.
Her talent had forced her on this path, to say she didn’t want to pursue singing felt like she was ignoring the god of music and singing, who had bestowed it upon her.
But who was the god? If she was honest with herself, it was her mother who had pushed Lily on this path.
And Lily, being the only child, was afraid to try anything else.
Denise wanted this for Lily more than Denise seemed to want anything for herself.
At twelve thirty, Nick arrived with some fresh cherries from the roadside stall and a bottle of lemonade.
‘You are a keeper,’ said Gran to him as she stole a cherry from the punnet.
‘How are you feeling, Violet?’ he asked, sitting down on the sofa.
‘Fine, I’m excellent – feeling thirty-four again.’ She laughed.
Lily leaned against the doorframe to the kitchen. ‘She’s wicked, I tell you that much,’ she said with a smile. Nick looked up at her and she felt her stomach flip.
‘Like grandmother like granddaughter,’ he said and she nodded.
‘Bring your script?’ she asked. ‘I thought we could work in the garden so we don’t annoy Gran.’
After Lily entered the garden, Nick followed her out while carrying the lemonade and cherries that he had brought with him.
As the bees settled down at the iron table and chairs that Lily had put up in the shade, the afternoon sun was warm but not oppressive, and the soft hum of the bees floated on the air.
After she had poured each of them a glass of water, she moved the punnet of cherries in the direction of Nick and thumbed the wet condensation that was already forming tiny droplets on the sides of the glasses.
After popping a cherry into his mouth and tossing the stem into the plate that Lily had brought out, Nick smiled. ‘It really is lovely. No wonder you enjoy being here so much.
While staring out across the garden, Lily gave a slight nod. The heavy heads of the hydrangeas were swaying gently in the breeze thanks to the fact that they were in full bloom. ‘To me, it has always seemed like a safe haven. I can be completely myself here.’
‘And you couldn’t at home?’ Nick questioned when he was reclining in his chair. He had his gaze set on her, and she could sense the way his eyes searched her face.
After a moment of hesitation, Lily looked down at her glass. ‘There are times,’ she said carefully. She paused. ‘That it feels like life has already written the script for me, and I am merely playing along.’
Nick cocked his head to the side, a crease appearing on his forehead. ‘What exactly do you mean?’
She let out a sigh as she reached for a cherry.
‘I mean, do you ever get the feeling that you’re unable to change the direction that you’re heading in?
Consider the following scenario: you are adhering to a plan that was devised for you by another individual, and you are too afraid to deviate from it because… what if there is nothing else?’
Nick thought for a moment and then he leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. ‘I think everyone has experienced that at some point in their lives. The question for you is, can you rewrite your own story now?’
‘Have you always wanted to be a nurse?’
He shook his head. ‘Nope, I actually thought I wanted to be a doctor but I didn’t get the marks, so I thought I’d try nursing and then try and get into university for medicine.
And then I started nursing and haven’t thought about being a doctor again.
I think I get to do more in this role, and I love talking to people and the change of patients and being able to zip about and help people in their own homes.
Like Gran – helping her has been a highlight.
’ He smiled at her and she felt her stomach flutter, but she also felt a faint sinking in her chest. It was obvious that Nick had everything figured out.
At all times, he gave off the impression of being so stable, so confident in himself, as if he was completely aware of his place in the world.
In comparison, it made her feel even more disorientated and confused. He probably thought she was a flake.
She sighed. ‘I wish I had that kind of certainty. I can’t help but feel I’m on the wrong road.
Nothing is really happening and I can’t continue like this.
I don’t even know if I still enjoy it or if I’m just doing it because…
well, because I don’t know what else I’d do and this was all I was told I could do. ’
Nick gazed at her for a brief period. His blue eyes seemed brighter in the light.
‘I don’t think it’s ever too late to change paths.
You always have the option to try something else if you find that something isn’t making you happy.
Change doesn’t have to be bad but, Lily, this is your life.
The choice of what you want it to be is entirely up to you. I mean who else is pushing you?’
She wondered if she could explain her mother to him without sounding completely pathetic.
‘My mum, she really wants this for me. I would disappoint her, and probably Gran. I mean she adores the theatre.’
Nick shrugged. ‘But they’ve had their turn; this is your turn. You can do something different. It won’t make the world stop, I promise.’
It felt as if his words were hanging in the air between them, laden with possibility.
What would it look like if she changed her life?
She wanted to believe him, but the idea of beginning over, of abandoning everything she had worked for, seemed inconceivable to her; yet he made it seem so simple, attainable.
A slight grin formed on Lily’s face as the sincerity in his voice pulled at something that was buried deep within her.
‘It sounds easy when you say it, but I don’t know how to do anything else.
’ There was a small lack of confidence in her voice.
She couldn’t explain how raw and exposed she felt as she sat with him, yet it also felt safe to tell him she was questioning her future.
When Nick leaned forward once more, this time with his elbows resting on the table, the space that separated them felt electrified and electric for a brief instant.
‘So what would you do if you could do anything? Would you want the big career on the stage? Eight shows a week for a year or more for the rest of your life? Or what else would you want? How does your life look if you didn’t have that? ’
‘I don’t have that now.’ She laughed ruefully.
If she was truthful with herself and Nick, she would admit she had never even dared to think about what her life might be like if she deviated from her road to the West End.
‘Perhaps… I mean, I might decide to remain here. Work in the garden, help Gran, and consider teaching singing rather than performing. I do love teaching but like I said some people see it as failure. But most of all…’ She paused, watching a bee hovering about a geranium in the sun.
‘I think I want something less complicated.’
‘That doesn’t sound like failure to me,’ he said. ‘It sounds like a nice life, and I for one would be thrilled if you stuck around.’
Lily felt her cheeks blushing and the butterflies weren’t just in the garden. She opened her mouth to speak, but the way he was looking at her, with such a low-key intensity, caused her words to become stuck in her throat.
They both fell silent for a considerable amount of time.
It seemed as though the world was getting smaller, with the sounds of the garden receding into the background until it was just the two of them, seated at that small iron table, the space between them being filled with many possibilities for the future.
Then Nick was the one who broke the stillness. He picked up his script and cleared his throat.
‘I think we better get on with the lines,’ but his tone had been more subdued and somewhat reluctant recently.
Lily couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between them as they began to read their lines.
She wasn’t quite ready to describe it, but it felt lovely, like the sound of the orchestra warming up before words on the page became jumbled together, and her concentration began to waver as her thoughts continued to dwell on Nick, thinking about the way he had looked at her and the way he had spoken to her, as if he had recognised her for who she truly was.
But he had given her something else other than a crush; she had the tiniest glimpse of hope for the very first time in a long time – hope that something else was waiting for her. She just had to be open to it, and if Nick was by her side, she might even find something truly special.