Chapter 3
3
As soon as Dad and Georgia helped her across the room to greet her guests, I’d been worried about Mum. When I’d noticed her gripping tightly to the table during her speech, that concern had deepened, but it was how the afternoon played out that made me realise how much her mobility had deteriorated since I last visited.
Mum loved socialising and I’d long admired her ability to circulate at events, ensuring she spoke to everyone. This afternoon she’d barely left her chair, allowing guests to come to her for a catch-up, sometimes prompted by Georgia. The only time she moved was to visit the ladies’ and she’d clung to Georgia’s arm as she crossed the room then. Without Dad to support her on the other side, it was clear to me how unsteady Mum was on her feet. I’d wanted to jump up and help but I’d noticed Dad watching intently, looking poised to rush over if needed, and concluded that Mum was trying to draw as little attention as possible to her mobility issues by just having Georgia’s assistance.
I wanted to speak to my parents to find out how bad things really were, but this wasn’t the time or place. Guests might overhear and it would likely dampen Mum’s spirits on her special day. Any chance of a general catch-up with my parents was a struggle as, every time the chairs around them were vacated, someone else slipped in for a chat and I thought it would be rude to plonk myself down beside them and join in with someone else’s conversation. Not that I had the confidence to do that unless the conversation was work-based.
By 4p.m. I’d accepted that I wasn’t going to get any time with my parents and, if I wanted to find out how Mum was doing, I’d need to make another trip over to Willowdale. I’d spoken to all our relatives and several of my parents’ friends and was feeling exhausted from batting away the questions about when I was coming home. I needed to be where people weren’t so I grabbed my coat and scarf and set off on a walk through the village. With sunset imminent, the light was fading but it wouldn’t be fully dark for a while yet.
Wandering along the footpath, I passed The White Willow on the right – a café by day and bistro by evening during the peak season. I’d never been inside as it had only opened a couple of years ago but Mum and Dad were regulars. Their next-door neighbours, Aled and Kelly, owned it but as they’d only moved to the village after buying the café, I’d never met them myself. The outside lights were off, signalling that it was closed for the day, but I could see a couple of staff inside stacking chairs on the tables and cleaning the floor.
I passed houses on the left and right. Derwent Rise was five doors down from The White Willow. Warm white lantern lights strung across the front of my parents’ home and fairy lights draped around a couple of potted shrubs either side of the door made it look really inviting. My parents loved their house so much. With stunning views across Derwent Water, it was hardly surprising – if a bit morbid – that they’d both said the only way they’d ever leave their home was in a coffin.
Reaching Willowdale Marina on the left, I paused by the entrance. If I kept walking, I’d hit a few patches without footpaths. Walking on the road in the dark wearing black clothes wasn’t the best idea but I wasn’t ready to return to the Lakeside Inn just yet. The metal barrier was down so vehicles couldn’t get through but there was room to walk around it. I knew the owner and didn’t think he’d mind if I cut through and wandered down to the lakeside.
I passed the buildings and headed down a slope to the pebbly beach. Several small motor boats and sailing boats were moored to a wooden pier in front of me. There was a smaller jetty at the other end of the beach with nothing moored to it. Several kayaks were hauled up on the beach in front of metal trolleys full of kayaks and canoes. Georgia and I had learned how to paddle both types of craft when we were kids and I had so many happy memories of splashing about on the water with my sister and our friends, playing tig, racing each other and doing challenges, as well as learning the safety and skills side of things.
The biting cold wind whipped my hair across my face and took my breath away. The lake was choppy but the sound of the water slapping against the beach was both mesmerising and comforting. Closing my eyes, I breathed in several deep lungfuls of fresh air, trying to quieten the battle inside my head.
Standing here beside the lake, even in the cold and darkness, I felt a sense of belonging. I never had and never would fall out of love with the Lake District. I still thought of it as home even though I hadn’t lived here for years. I liked and appreciated Newcastle but my heart would remain forever in Willowdale with the lake, the fells, my favourite old building – Willowdale Hall – and, of course, my family who I loved and missed so much.
The positive memories of my home weren’t only from my childhood. I’d had forty-five years of happiness here until that one terrible day when my whole world fell apart, the sunshine disappeared, and the black clouds arrived. The black clouds which rained down on me, and rained, and rained, and rained. If six and a half years living somewhere else hadn’t brought the sunshine back, would it ever return? Would I be better off coming back here? Even if those dark clouds didn’t disappear, at least I’d be with my family and not out on a limb, especially now that Graeme was no longer part of my life.
I opened my eyes and looked at the dark silhouettes of trees across the lake. Was I strong enough to come back knowing that Flynn was still here?
* * *
‘I was worried you’d left.’
The picnic bench outside The White Willow creaked and shifted as Georgia stepped up onto the seat and sat down beside me on the table top a little later.
‘I thought about it,’ I admitted.
‘Nowhere to sit over the road?’ she asked, gazing in the direction of the Lakeside Inn diagonally opposite us.
‘I didn’t look. I went for a walk to the marina and decided to park myself here for a bit before returning to the party.’
‘It’s bitter out here,’ she said, zipping her coat up higher, her breath hanging in the air. ‘Aren’t you freezing?’
‘Can’t feel my extremities anymore.’
We sat in silence for several minutes. A couple of cars passed, as did a teenager walking a dog, but he was too engrossed by his phone to pay any attention to us.
‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ I asked eventually.
‘About what?’
‘Mum’s mobility.’
‘It’s not really an over-the-phone conversation.’
‘But I had no idea it was so bad. Why did nobody warn me?’
Georgia exhaled, long and slow. ‘Dad wanted to give you a heads-up but I said…’
‘You said what?’ I asked when she didn’t finish the sentence.
‘I said you’d already run away to Newcastle and we didn’t need to give you another reason to stay there, burying your head in the sand.’
She said the words gently but they felt like a punch to the stomach.
‘Is that what you think I’ve been doing all these years?’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘Of course not!’
‘Then what have you been doing, Mel?’
‘Having a fresh start.’
She blew on her hands and rubbed them together. ‘How’s that working out for you?’
When I didn’t respond, she continued. ‘What’s Newcastle got that Willowdale hasn’t? New job? Beautiful home? Relationship? Friends?’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘Maybe not, but it’s the truth. You’re doing the same job you did before you left, you’re still renting the first soulless flat you found, you’ve dumped Graeme and I’m pretty sure he was the only friend you made in the whole time you’ve been there.’
‘Not true.’ Actually, scarily accurate but it made my life sound like a disaster. ‘I have got other friends.’
‘Who?’
‘Liz.’
‘Liz?’ She placed her fingers against her temples, the deep-thinking gesture exaggerated. ‘Oh yeah, I remember Liz. Wasn’t she the woman in your building who you went jogging with for six months before she moved back to Edinburgh and never contacted you again?’
I’d hoped she wouldn’t remember that sad indictment on my ability to create a new life in Newcastle.
‘Elspeth?’ I suggested.
‘A client in her nineties who invited you for afternoon tea as a thank you.’
Why did Georgia have such an exceptional memory?
‘Hashtag friendship goals,’ she said, nudging me playfully in the side and lightening the mood.
I laughed as I nudged her back. ‘Don’t ever use hashtag in a sentence like that again.’
‘Why not? Hashtag down with the kids.’
‘Oh, my God! Stop!’
We sat in silence for a couple more minutes until Georgia shivered from head to foot and clambered down from the picnic bench. ‘I need warmth. You must too. Come inside and have a drink with me.’
‘I might just say goodbye and drive home.’
‘No, Mel, don’t go. Stay at mine tonight as planned. In fact, stay longer. Join us for Sunday lunch tomorrow. It’ll be less chaotic.’
I hesitated, torn between the desire to run and the knowledge that the only thing awaiting me on the other side of the country was loneliness.
‘Who’s coming?’
‘Just the immediate family, although Regan and Clarke need to eat and shoot. They’re preparing for a big auction next week so it’ll be lively while we eat and calm once they’re gone. You’ll be able to talk to Mum and Dad properly then.’
‘I’m not sure they’ll want me there. Only family member not name-checked in Mum’s speech.’
She grimaced. ‘I was hoping you hadn’t noticed that. Please don’t hold it against Mum. It won’t have been deliberate. She was looking forward to seeing you today.’
‘So much that she didn’t speak to me all afternoon.’ I sighed as I slipped down from the bench. ‘I had a longer conversation with the young lass serving behind the bar than I did with my own mother on her eightieth birthday. And it’s not like I didn’t try. I shuffled along the table several times, but…’ I shook my head. ‘Never mind. I brought it on myself. Come on. Let’s get you inside before you turn blue.’
We crossed the road and entered Lakeside Inn’s car park. Passing my car, I had to fight hard against the temptation to slip my hand inside my bag, retrieve my car keys and get out of here. At least the party was almost over. Even though Mum was in her element at gatherings like this, after five hours of pretty much non-stop chatter I knew she’d be ready to return to Derwent Rise, get out of her party clothes and switch off. There was therefore no danger of the evening continuing back at theirs. I could do this!
It was 4.50p.m. by the time we returned to the conservatory and there’d been a mass exodus. A few members of staff were clearing tables and another one was handing over a large cardboard box to Dad, presumably containing what was left of Mum’s birthday cake. Mum had changed tables and was now sitting with Auntie Sue. Their cousins had either left or moved into the bar and they’d been joined by a few of Mum’s friends from the village who had full glasses of drink as though they were settled in for the evening. The rest of the guests were clearly preparing to leave, downing the last of their drinks or pulling on coats, ready to brave the elements.
‘You are still here!’ Mum exclaimed. ‘I haven’t seen you in ages. Sue and I thought you must have left.’
I could imagine how that conversation had gone – She never sticks around, Sue. Always cancelling or rushing off. And if it had gone like that, I deserved it.
‘I wouldn’t go without saying goodbye.’ I pulled out a chair and sat down beside her. ‘Have you enjoyed your day?’
She smiled at me. ‘It’s been wonderful. I think I managed to speak to most people, although it’s not easy when you’ve got so many guests and don’t want to offend anyone.’
The intense way she held my gaze made me wonder if there was an apology in there somewhere. I’d like to think there was. I’d found so much about today really tough and not being able to engage my own mum in conversation had been hurtful. But it was her special day, she’d enjoyed it, and that was the important thing here.
‘That’s what you get for being so popular,’ I said, smiling back at her.
‘Are you heading back to Newcastle tonight?’ Auntie Sue asked.
‘I haven’t had anything to drink so…’ I was about to say I might as well , but I caught Mum’s expression. She looked sad. All day I’d been very aware of feeling on the outside of my family and out of date with what was going on, particularly with regards to Mum’s health, and leaving tonight wasn’t going to change that. But if I stuck around tomorrow, I could find out. It couldn’t be any harder than today had been.
‘…I could go back,’ I continued, ‘but I told Georgia I’d stay at hers and that’s what I’m doing. In fact, she’s invited me to stay for lunch tomorrow so I’m doing that, assuming that’s okay with you, Mum.’
Mum’s expressions always revealed what she was thinking and that revelation had definitely taken her by surprise. Made two of us!
‘Oh! Yes, of course!’ she gushed. ‘It’ll be lovely to spend some time with you. I wanted to talk to you earlier but people kept appearing.’
‘I know. It’s all right. As I say, that’s what you get for being so popular. Everyone wants a piece of you so I’m sticking around to get my time with you.’
I didn’t want to prolong my stay but I needed to. I used to be so close to my parents but it felt like there was a wall between us now and only I could bring it down. I was worried about Mum and wanted to know what was really going on with her health and the only way anyone was going to give me the full story was if I put in more effort to be part of this family. The only problem was that getting my relationship with my parents back on track meant I needed to spend a lot more time in Willowdale. Doing so might fix things with them, but at what cost? Might it break me even more?