Chapter 29
29
Another three weeks passed, taking me up to two months back in Willowdale. I felt really settled. I was loving my job, where I lived, and my social life. I was even enjoying the weekly quiz at The Hardy Herdwick despite my lack of general knowledge. Emma and I had managed a couple of nights out, which had been great fun, and I’d been to the theatre with Regan and Clarke, but I had two highlights each week – Tuesday lunches with my parents where we talked and laughed and felt like a united loving family once more and the time I spent with Alice, especially when we went walking with the dogs. Although we’d been through very different experiences, we trod a similar path towards healing. I deeply valued her counsel and told her so, and she shared with me how much she appreciated the different perspective I brought as a result of not knowing her when she was ill.
My living situation had been confirmed for the short-term future. Last week, Rosie had caught me curled up on the sofa in the library with my laptop on my knee, looking online at properties to buy and rent in the area and tutting at the lack of options.
‘There really isn’t any rush to move out,’ she said. ‘We both love having you here.’
‘I love being here, but I can’t stay forever. Although, if we shift the desk to the left a bit, what do you think about me moving my bed into that corner?’
‘Maybe your drawing board in the opposite corner?’ Rosie replied, laughing. ‘Seriously, though, you’re welcome to stay until we hit a point in the conversion where it’s impractical. If I’m honest, I prefer knowing there’s someone else in the hall on the nights Oliver isn’t here. It’s a big place to be rattling around in on my own.’
Rosie used to stay at Horseshoe Cottage during the nights Oliver worked away but when Xander moved in she’d decided it was time for her to fully leave home. I’d helped her move the rest of her belongings across and had hugged her when she became tearful. I remembered feeling that way when I moved out of Derwent Rise and into Flynn’s flat shortly after we got engaged. Even though I was excited about the new chapter in my life, I was sad to leave my childhood home where I’d been so happy.
‘Unless you’d prefer to separate work and non-work,’ Rosie added.
I gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Surprisingly, even though this is the first time I’ve lived and worked on the same site as a project, I’ve got a better work/life balance now than I’ve ever had before. So thank you for the offer. I’d love to stay longer.’
I was so grateful to Rosie and Oliver for their generosity. It’d be several months before work started on the hall conversion and, even then, I wouldn’t need to move out immediately. When the time came, hopefully the market would have shifted and I’d find something suitable but I could relax and enjoy living in my favourite building in the meantime, still pinching myself from time to time that my childhood dream had come true.
Our usual family Sunday lunch had been cancelled today because Regan and Clarke had friends staying and Georgia and Mark had been away to a wedding. I’d still see some of my family today as Mum, Dad, Georgia, Mark and I had all been invited to The White Willow this evening for drinks and a buffet in celebration of Autumn and Dane’s engagement.
After rifling through my wardrobe this morning for something suitable to wear and tutting at all the dark colours, I’d made the forty-minute drive to Carlisle. I hadn’t been shopping there in maybe a decade so it was a trip down memory lane seeing which shops had opened and closed. I’d only intended on getting something for the party but returned to Willowdale Hall laden with bags of clothes and not a single black item among them. I’d even splashed out on a new coat – a vibrant green one – which made me feel so alive.
Rosie and Oliver had headed to The White Willow early to help set up so I walked there with Alice and Xander. I’d asked Dad if he’d like me to call at Derwent Rise on the way to help Mum with the walk but he’d said there was no need as she’d decided to ride her mobility scooter round.
I’d been in The White Willow maybe ten minutes when I spotted my parents arriving, Mum with one arm linked through Dad’s and a sparkly purple walking stick in the other hand. As Dad settled her onto a chair, I crossed the room to greet them.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked Mum, concerned by how pale she looked.
‘Tired and a bit out of sorts today. We had Astrid for a few hours this afternoon and it’s taken it out of me. We’ll probably not stay long.’
‘How come you had Astrid?’
‘Arlo had an unexplained rash and they needed to do an emergency dash to the hospital, but he’s fine. It’s gone now.’
I wished Keira had called on me to look after Astrid instead of Mum and Dad but they were probably panicking and didn’t think. If it had been this afternoon, I’d have been back from Carlisle and could easily have helped. Next time I saw Keira, I’d make sure she knew I could always be called upon in an emergency.
Dad went to get some drinks so I sat down next to Mum.
‘You look lovely this evening, Mel,’ Mum said. ‘That colour’s stunning on you.’
I’d surprised myself with the bold choice of burnt orange but the satin wraparound blouse had called to me. I’d accompanied it with my best dark jeans and a pair of orange ankle boots with chunky heels.
‘Thank you. It’s not a colour I usually wear.’
‘You don’t usually wear colour full stop,’ Mum said, ‘but you used to. Before. I’m so happy to have seen you wearing more colours recently. You deserve to have colour back in your life.’
She took my hand and squeezed it as she held my gaze. I smiled back at her, tears pricking my eyes, knowing we weren’t talking about my clothes anymore.
‘It’s taken a long time, but colour is definitely coming back,’ I said. ‘Thank you for helping it.’
She put her arms out and we hugged. What a fool I’d been to miss out on this but, as I’d promised myself, no regrets – just focusing on the here and now and a positive future.
When Dad returned, I chatted to them for a little longer but some of their friends appeared so I left them to it.
An hour or so later, Dad joined me and announced that they were heading home. He went outside to turn Mum’s mobility scooter round while Georgia and I helped Mum into her coat. I picked up her walking stick and bag and we took an arm each to go outside.
‘I’m so sorry for leaving early,’ Mum said when we had her settled on the scooter with a blanket over her knees. Although it had been a gorgeous day, there was a chill in the air this evening which she’d feel even when travelling a short distance.
‘It’s been such a nice evening,’ she said. ‘They make a lovely couple.’ She smiled at Georgia as she added, ‘Nearly as lovely as you and Mark.’
Georgia laughed and hugged Mum goodnight. As I leaned in for a hug next, Mum tightened her hold on me and whispered in my ear, ‘And nearly as lovely as you and Flynn were and still could be.’
My stomach flip-flopped at the suggestion. Had she really just said that?
‘He’s your magnet,’ she whispered.
Magnets again? I wanted to ask her what she meant by that but I didn’t want to detain her when she so clearly needed to get home for some rest. I’d ask her on Tuesday instead.
When Mum released me, she looked me deep in the eyes. ‘Think about it, Mel.’
‘Think about what?’ Georgia asked.
‘Whether she’d like to go into town for lunch on Tuesday for a change,’ Mum said, super-speedy with her response. ‘I’m off home to bed. You two girls look after each other. I’m so proud of you both, you know.’
‘Have you been on the wine tonight?’ Georgia quipped.
‘Not touched a drop, but I’ve realised I don’t tell you things like this often enough and now’s as good a time as any. Both of you give me one more hug for the road.’
I was closest so I hugged her again, still feeling thrown by her comment about Flynn. ‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so glad you came home.’
‘I love you too,’ I whispered back. Another thing I couldn’t remember her ever saying to me. Not that I didn’t know it – we’d just never been a family who outwardly declared our love for each other.
She hugged Georgia too and I heard her whisper the same thing.
‘Come on, June,’ Dad said as a cold breeze ruffled Mum’s hair and blanket. ‘Let’s get you home and warm.’
He hugged Georgia and me and we waved them off.
‘Did she tell you she loved you?’ Georgia asked.
‘Yeah. I wasn’t expecting that.’
‘Me neither. Nice to hear, though.’
We returned inside just in time to catch Autumn and Dane each making a short speech. The pair of them looked so happy together and perfectly suited. I’d noticed earlier how good they were at working the room, making sure they spoke to all their guests, but how they’d glance across at each other every so often and smile that secret smile all couples seemed to share. Would I ever exchange a smile like that with someone special at some future point? Did I even want to? I had to acknowledge that I did, but I couldn’t ever see it happening. There was far too much going on at the moment to even think about dating again. And, even if I did go on a date, could they ever compare to Flynn? I frowned. Flynn? Why was he in my head? Because Mum had mentioned him outside, of course! Why had she done that? If she and Dad had stayed in touch with him, they had to know he was married. Was she suggesting I should break up a happy marriage? My stomach lurched as it struck me that theirs might not be a happy marriage. Although they hadn’t looked on the verge of a break-up when I’d seen them kissing on the beach the other week. And even if they were, Flynn and I could never go back. After how I’d treated him, there was no way on this earth he’d possibly want to.
If I ever felt ready to date again, I’d have to be really careful. The last thing I wanted to do was break someone’s heart like I’d broken Graeme’s. Poor man had never stood a chance with me. He wasn’t Flynn. Simple as.
The party wrapped up at nine o’clock – no late night planned with it being a Sunday. Mum and Dad had missed the cutting of the cake so Autumn handed me a box containing a slice for each of them.
‘I think Dad was a bit disappointed at leaving early,’ Georgia said as she pulled her coat on. ‘I’ll ask if he wants a cuppa and some company with his cake. Fancy joining me?’
I’d arranged to walk back with Alice and Xander so I said goodnight to them and assured them that Mark would drop me back at the hall later.
Rather than knocking on the door at Derwent Rise and risking waking up Mum, Georgia let us in with the spare key she always had in her purse, and Mark, Georgia and I crept into the lounge.
‘We come bearing cake,’ Georgia said, passing Dad the takeaway box as I closed the door behind us. ‘And our company if you’d like it.’
He lifted the lid and smiled at the contents. ‘I was just thinking I fancied something sweet but we don’t have anything in the house, so this is perfect. And yes, please, to the company.’
‘I take it Mum’s in bed,’ I said.
‘Yes. She’s not felt too good today but she was determined not to miss the party.’
Dad went into the kitchen with Georgia and returned with mugs of tea and his slice of cake on a plate.
‘Is it just today that Mum’s been feeling poorly?’ I asked once we were all settled with our drinks.
‘It’s hard to say. She’s in pain most days and she often tries to hide that from me as she says she doesn’t want to bring me down. I can usually spot the days when she’s suffering the most but it’s hard to separate those from anything else going on. As I say, she was determined to get to the party but she could probably have done with resting more today.’
‘It’s so typical that we weren’t around to have Astrid,’ Georgia said. ‘Sounds like the last thing she needed today.’
‘Don’t fret about it. It’s one of those things and we could have said no but you know what your mum’s like – any chance to spend some time with her great-grandchildren and she’s in her element. Anyway, how was the wedding?’
I’d already heard about Mark and Georgia’s weekend away while we were at The White Willow so, while they were recounting it to Dad, I zoned out and gazed around the room, smiling at the figurines we used to relocate. On one side of the room was a beautiful oak sideboard on top of which were twenty or so silver photo frames of assorted sizes and designs so I wandered over to look at them. Some photos had remained constant over the years including several wedding day photos – Mum and Dad’s, Georgia and Mark’s, Keira and Johnnie’s – and graduation photos of Georgia and me, but others were regularly updated. There was a lovely one of Mum cutting the cake at her eightieth birthday party and another of Mum and Dad together that same day. I smiled as I picked up a frame containing a photo of Mum cuddling Astrid and Arlo. Aware that Georgia and Mark had finished telling Dad about the wedding, I turned round holding the frame.
‘This must be hot off the press.’
‘Taken about a week ago,’ Dad said. ‘I printed it off this morning and put it in the frame before your mum went to bed.’
‘It’s a great photo of them all. Mum’s so photogenic.’
‘That’s because she’s a beautiful woman.’
The passion and love with which he delivered that statement had me tearing up and I was grateful for the distraction of returning the frame to its home.
‘Do you like the one of you?’ Dad asked.
I frowned, confused, as the only photo I’d noticed of me was the graduation one and it was really old now. There used to be a wedding day one but that had long gone.
‘Opposite end of the sideboard,’ Dad said. ‘Also hot off the press.’
I hadn’t reached that side yet but soon spotted the hinged photo frame. On one side was a photo of Mum, Dad, Georgia and me alongside Maud and Jolene. I remembered Emma taking it on Mum’s phone, telling us she was an expert in getting the best angle for the alpacas so that they looked like they were smiling. Sure enough, Maud and Jolene looked like they were grinning alongside us. On the other side was a candid photo of me with Charmaine. The wind had whipped up my hair and the white tuft on Charmaine’s head. Emma – assuming she’d also taken this photo – had captured me laughing. Rosy-cheeked and sparkly-eyed, I barely recognised myself.
‘Your mum loves both those photos,’ Dad said, joining me. ‘But she especially loves that one of you. She says it’s the first time since we lost Noah that she’s seen you laughing without guilt.’
‘Without guilt?’ I repeated.
‘Yes. Allowing yourself a moment to live in the here and now instead of telling yourself you have no right to laugh after such a tragedy.’
I ran my fingers over the glass. No wonder I barely recognised myself. This photo looked more like the me before Noah died and seven years was a long time for that woman to have hidden herself away from the world. It was reassuring to know she was still in there somewhere and capable of reappearing.
‘Would you mind sending me these two photos?’ I asked.
‘Will do, but I can nip up to my office and print you off copies now if you like.’
‘That would be great, thanks.’ I’d buy a frame for the one of the four of us and put it on my bookshelves, but it would be good to have the one of me on my desk as a reminder that I was allowed to laugh, to breathe, to live again. I glanced down at my blouse and smiled at the conversation I’d had with Mum earlier. You deserve to have colour back in your life.
After Georgia had seen the photos, she asked Dad to print copies for her too. Derwent Rise was a three-bedroom bungalow but, when Georgia and I were still at home, Dad had converted the sizeable attic into half office half storage, accessed via wooden steps. He disappeared upstairs to print the photos while I checked out the rest of the frames.
Mum had double photo frames for each of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren with a photo of them as a baby on one side and a recently taken one on the other. She used to jokingly refer to them as her ‘first and last’ photos but dropped that phrase after Noah died and his most recent photo literally was the last photo ever taken of him.
I picked up Noah’s frame for a closer look. That last photo had been taken on Christmas Day when Flynn and I had invited the whole family over to The Bothy. It had been chaotic, loud and laughter-filled – exactly what a big family Christmas should be. I remembered Mum asking Noah if he’d wanted to remove the bright yellow paper party hat he’d got from his cracker before she took the photo. He’d laughed and said, But how would you know it was taken on Christmas Day if I’m not wearing it? before making his hat crooked and giving her his most dazzling smile. He’d been so happy and full of fun that day, I’d never have guessed that his personal life was out of control, and none of us could ever have imagined that, a week later, he’d be gone.
I put the frame back and was about to return to the sofa when a small frame caught my eye. Was that…? I lifted it up and my heart started racing.
‘Mum’s got a photo of Flynn,’ I exclaimed.
‘Must be an old one,’ Georgia said.
‘It isn’t. She’s in it and it looks recent.’
I handed the frame to Georgia who shook her head. ‘I’ve not seen it before. Mark?’
Mark shrugged. ‘Me neither, but you’re right about it being recent. The beard was new last year.’
Georgia handed back the frame as Dad returned to the lounge and distributed the photos.
‘Can I ask you about this?’ I said, after thanking him. I held up the frame for him to see.
‘Ah!’ he said, grimacing. ‘I forgot that was there.’
‘When was it taken?’
He sat back down in his chair. ‘Remember me saying he came round with a gift for your mum’s eightieth? It was taken then. Does it bother you because I can put it in a drawer if it does?’
‘No. Keep it out. It’s right that he’s still part of your lives.’
‘If you ever want to know anything about Flynn…’ Mark said.
I wished I could make them happy by saying yes but it would be too hard for me, too raw, to hear all about his wife and maybe even a new family. I meant it when I’d said it was right that Flynn was part of their lives, but he couldn’t be part of mine, so I shook my head.
‘Nothing’s changed there. I’m completely fine with you all seeing him – including you, Georgia, if you want to – but I don’t want to know any details. Sorry.’
The sad expressions were too much for me so I added, ‘But I’ll let you know if that changes.’
It wouldn’t, but I felt as though I needed to give them a sliver of hope. They agreed not to give me any Flynn updates and the subject was thankfully changed.
A little later, the clock above the fireplace released a delightful ping as it did every hour and Georgia stretched.
‘Ten o’clock,’ she said. ‘Our cue to head off to our beds.’
Dad said he’d poke his head round the bedroom door to see whether Mum was awake so we could say goodnight if she was. I’d carefully placed my photos in my handbag and pushed one arm into my coat sleeve when Dad’s mournful cry of, ‘No!’ chilled me to the bone.
Georgia, Mark and I raced down the hall to my parents’ bedroom and my heart shattered into a million pieces at the sight of my dad kneeling on the floor, cradling Mum’s limp body against his. Her eyes were open, his were tightly closed, and he was repeating ‘no’ over and over again.