Fifteen
‘Hello, Hanna. This is a surprise. You haven’t changed a bit.’
‘Hello, Aunt Susan. Neither have you. I apologise for this, but I had nowhere else to go.’
‘All the hotels are full then, are they? No. Don’t turn away. I told you when you called that you are more than welcome, and I meant it. Come in.’
‘Thank you. I did consider an hotel, but I didn’t want to be alone right now.’
Hanna stepped inside Susan’s terraced Victorian, two-storey house in Wimbledon Village in South West London. A house she hadn’t been inside since the day she had walked out of it more than twelve years ago.
‘Drop your bags there. We’ll sort those out later. I’ll open a bottle of wine and you can tell me all about him.’
‘Him? What makes you think there’s a man involved?’ Hanna dropped her holdalls beside an Edwardian coat stand but stayed where she was.
Susan glanced back over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, sweetheart. There’s always a man involved. You’ve coped with anything and everything life threw at you, but when it involved a man, you always fell apart. And you wouldn’t be here unless you were falling apart. Now follow me.’
‘Well, you should know. You were the reason I fell apart the last time.’
Hanna didn’t move. This was a mistake. A huge mistake.
Susan turned and walked back to her, and then she linked an arm through Hanna’s, and coaxed her forward.
‘Are we still doing that? I thought that hatchet was buried when you finally answered my calls two years ago. If this is going to be a problem you need to say so now, because, despite what everyone said at the time, we’re still together you know.’
‘But he’s not here, right? You told me when we spoke that he wasn’t here.’
‘Don’t panic. He’s not. Would it still bother you to see him? You told me you got over him years ago.’
‘I did. I am. But … I’m feeling vulnerable right now and … and even being here is bringing it all back. I should go. This was a mistake.’
‘Stop being such a drama Queen, young lady.’ Susan unlinked their arms and placed both her hands on Hanna’s shoulders, forcing her to sit. ‘Sit down and breathe, for heaven’s sake. Whoever this man is, you’ve got it bad, haven’t you? Now stay. I’m opening the wine and we’re going to drink and talk and sort this all out.’
Hanna took several deep breaths. Susan might have broken Hanna’s heart all those years ago, but something deep inside had told Hanna to come here.
She glanced around, only now realising they were in a large open plan kitchen, dining, and sitting room. The grey kitchen units were all sleek lines, like Susan herself, and the dining and sitting areas had modern, grey, and no doubt designer, furniture. The TV, wherever it was, was hidden from view, and there wasn’t a single book in sight, which was odd. Hanna remembered the house being full of books. Now the pale grey walls were covered with possibly hundreds of paintings. Black framed, glass folding doors led out onto a dark grey slate patio and beyond that a beautifully manicured lawn with flower borders, and silver birch trees, all bathed in a purple glow from the outside lights. Two equally sleek Russian Blue cats strolled down a path as if they were on a fashion cat walk, and Hanna gave a quiet snort. Even the cats were grey. But grey had always been Susan’s favourite colour.
‘So what do you think of the place?’ Susan asked from the kitchen area, and Hanna had to swivel in her dark grey chair to face her.
‘It’s grey,’ Hanna said. ‘But it’s beautiful. You’ve made several changes. Like knocking three rooms into one. Where have all the books gone?’
‘We have a library now. And a study. We’ve gone up into the loft space to make room for those.’
‘Still writing self-help books?’
‘Still painting? Some things will never change.’ Susan handed Hanna a glass of chilled white wine. A large glass. She clinked her glass with Hanna’s. ‘Cheers. It’s lovely to see you after so many years. Did you spot them?’
Hanna took several large gulps of her wine. She needed them. ‘Spot what? The cats? Yes. They’re also beautiful. But … he was allergic to cats, wasn’t he?’
A slow grin spread across Susan’s generous mouth as she sat in another dark grey chair opposite.
‘Still is. But he’s grown used to them. Sadly, the same can’t be said for them. They hiss at him. Then again, so do I sometimes. I didn’t mean the cats. I meant the paintings.’
‘I could hardly miss them, could I? Since when did you become such an art lover? I seem to remember bare walls, save for a few large and impressive mirrors here and there.’
‘Mirrors are for young people. Once you hit sixty, they’re not always so kind. Art is far more beautiful to look at than my reflection, I’ve realised.’ She took a sip of wine. ‘Especially your art.’
‘My art!’ Hanna’s gaze shot around the room. She’d thought a few of the paintings were familiar but there was no way Susan would’ve bought any of hers.
And yet.
Now she looked at them, more than half of them were hers.
‘I’m proud of you, Hanna. You’re an extremely talented artist.’
‘Thank you,’ Hanna replied, for want of anything else to say. She took more gulps of wine.
Susan ran a slim finger around the rim of her glass. ‘I am sorry that things turned out the way they did. But I’ve always been a selfish person. You knew that. I haven’t changed on that score. We can’t choose whom we love. And as I’ve said, more than once, you and he wouldn’t have stayed together. You simply weren’t right for one another.’
‘So you still think you did me a favour by stealing my boyfriend. Even though it broke my heart, and, as you said, I fell apart. That was okay, because you loved him and he loved you.’
Hanna had never told anyone in Betancourt Bay about Jeremy. Or about Susan. She’d pushed them to the back of her mind and tried to pretend they didn’t exist. She’d never said she was once in love with a man who had fallen in love with her aunt. An aunt who was twenty-five years her senior. And twenty years older than the man she had loved. Being dumped for another woman was bad enough. Being dumped for a woman twenty-five years older, who was a blood relative of yours, wasn’t something Hanna wanted to shout about. Although, at the time, Hanna had done quite a lot of shouting. Jeremy had cried. Susan had simply hugged her and told her how sorry she was, and how much she loved Hanna. But that she loved Jeremy too.
‘It wasn’t okay. No. But I had to choose. And rightly or wrongly I chose him. You weren’t the only one who’s heart broke that day. But I would still choose him, if I had to do it all over again. As ridiculous as it sounds, we’re soul mates, Hanna. We’re like two parts of a machine. Neither of us work if we’re apart for long, but together we can move mountains. When you find the right man, you’ll understand that sometimes a love comes along that you’d die for. That you’d give up anything and everything for. And I think you feel you’ve found that man. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t. Let’s not dwell on the past. That’s water under the bridge and there’s no going back. Let’s look to the present and the future. So, what’s the problem?’
Hanna emptied her wine glass in large gulps and held it out to Susan who raised one delicate brow and gracefully stood up and almost floated across the floor to get the bottle of wine. She returned with two bottles; the open one and another, and she refilled Hanna’s glass, and then sat back down in her chair.
‘The problem is, he doesn’t love me.’
‘I see. Yes. That could be a problem. But it’s not insurmountable if he’s the right man. Tell me all about it. Tell me what brought you here.’
Hanna told Susan the entire story, beginning with how Russell had been in love with Hope. She started her story at Christmas Eve and the Mistletoe Dance, and almost twenty minutes later, without Susan saying another word, she finished it at the train station to come here.
‘Well. Assuming you’ve told me everything, I’d say you’re in the wrong place.’
Hanna let out a long and sorrowful sigh. ‘I thought that too. I knew I shouldn’t have come. But … I couldn’t think of anyone else to talk to about this. My friends are all so involved and they’d tell Russell how I felt and that … that would only make things worse.’
‘I meant,’ said Susan, refilling Hanna’s glass from the newly opened bottle. ‘That where you should be is standing in front of Russell telling him you love him.’
‘What? Haven’t you heard what I’ve said?’
‘Every single word. And I repeat, you should be telling him you love him. But I suppose there’s no rush. He’s not going anywhere. You’re here now and I’d love you to stay for a day or two. For longer, if you like. We need to mend some bridges. And I’ve missed you, Hanna. I really have. You don’t love Jeremy, so, although you may never forgive us entirely, for what we did, surely you can find it in that huge heart of yours to tolerate us? He won’t be back until next week, so why don’t you stay and we can see how things go? Oh. I do have one question about Russell though. How many times has he called you since you left him at the restaurant?’
Hanna shrugged as tears pricked her eyes. ‘I … I don’t know. I think I left my phone in the cab to Folkestone station. I didn’t notice it was missing until I was on the train.’
‘Oh, sweetheart. Why didn’t you say so? We’ll call the cab office and see if it’s there. If not, the first thing we’ll do tomorrow is get you a new phone and get your number transferred. Don’t worry. It’s not the end of the world.’
‘Really?’ Hanna sobbed. ‘It feels like it is.’