Chapter Seven
Living at Kilmory Cottage: Carly & Frank
Carly
‘So we’ve done it, darling,’ Frank announces.
‘We have.’ I smile at him, lying beside me in bed.
He chuckles and touches my cheek. ‘Bit of a shithole, wasn’t it?’
‘Oh, it’s not too bad. My first place was worse.’
‘Yeah. I remember that dump very well,’ he teases.
‘Anyway, it’s better than being stuck here with us, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah. Anything’s better than that.’
‘So it’s just me and you now,’ I remind him. ‘How d’you feel about that?’
‘Fucking terrified.’ He squeezes my hand.
‘So you should be!’ Although bone-tired from all the box lugging, I can’t settle tonight. But Frank is already drifting off at just gone midnight, so I slip quietly out of bed and pace around downstairs, wondering what Eddie’s doing now, and knowing I’m being ridiculous.
He’s twenty-two! What do I think he’s doing on his first night in Edinburgh? Celebrating of course – with his best mates.
I still can’t quite believe it’s only the two of us now, in this house where there were three, then four, then five. I click on the kettle and hunt around for my favourite bone china cup – a gift from Prish. Tea just isn’t the same in anything else. But there’s no sign of it here and I’ve already gathered up all the disgusting bacteria-incubating mugs left in Eddie’s room.
Settling for a substitute cup, I carry my tea through to the living room. The Empty-Nester’s Handbook catches my eye from the bookshelf. Thinking it might settle me – to read about this being a perfectly natural stage – I pull it from the shelf, stretch out on the sofa and flick it open.
The trick is to focus not on what your adult kids might be up to, because your work there is done. Instead, think about this thrilling new life stage you’re embarking on …
I smile at that. Frank doesn’t believe in life stages. To him, it’s just life. But now I’m thinking we should mark this somehow. Do something to celebrate the fact that, at long last, our firstborn has got his act together.
I fetch my laptop and settle back on the sofa, excited now as an idea starts to form.
Frank will think it’s mad – I know that – because we don’t have much money. However, I do have a small amount squirrelled away. Since his failed business ventures I’ve had to, for my own sanity.
My just-in-case fund, is how I’ve always thought of it. But never mind just-in-case. We are empty-nesters – finally! – and on top of that, Frank turns fifty next month. He’s already announced that he doesn’t want to make a big deal of it as he hates any kind of fuss. But this won’t be ‘fuss’. It’ll be fun – something just for us. By God, after raising three kids we deserve it.
My heart quickens as I start to browse hotels and apartments. The choice is dizzying and I’m so out of practice at this, I’m not sure how to narrow things down. When the kids were old enough to be left for a night, Frank and I would manage the occasional overnighter, staying with friends in Glasgow. But we’ve never been away together to a hotel without Eddie and the girls. We didn’t even take them abroad – apart from the occasional trip to visit their Portuguese grandparents, now long gone. Calum and Raj’s families seemed to be forever nipping off to Greece or Italy or Majorca, but we could never afford that.
At just gone one a.m. I send a message to Dev, Frank’s mate, who owns the garage where he works.
Hey Dev, could you manage without Frank for a few days in early Feb? It’s his 50th. Thinking of taking him away as a surprise.
Of course I don’t expect a reply until morning. I was too excited to wait. But then to my surprise, when I look again there’s a message.
No probs, Dev has written. Can get one of the lads to do extra if I need it. His sons, he means. Hard-grafting boys who are always willing to pitch in.
Excitement flurries in my chest as I browse accommodation again, plus flights, and reply to Dev.
Great, thanks so much!
Going anywhere nice?
Thinking Paris but please don’t mention it to Frank.
Excellent idea! Not a word, I promise.
The last time we had an overnighter, we came home to find Bella, Ana and Eddie suspiciously cheery and happy to see us. And we soon noticed that things had been repositioned in odd places. Lamps, framed photos, sofa – all having clearly been ‘put back’. And things are only ‘put back’ when an illicit party has happened. On top of that, my beautiful apricot ‘Bathsheba’ climbing rose was splattered in vomit and the living room curtain rail had been pulled down.
‘It just fell!’ Ana protested, while her big sister Bella – who’s never been comfortable with subterfuge – squirmed in the background.
There’ll be none of that this time, I reflect as I find what appears to be the perfect little hotel. Not too pricey, but so Parisian with curly wrought-iron balconies and blue and white striped awnings in a beautiful tree-lined street. I book it, plus our flights, and then go back to the hotel’s website to gaze at it some more. I’m so engrossed that I don’t hear Frank coming into the room.
‘Hey, how come you’re up?’
‘Oh!’ I try to hide the screen with splayed hands. ‘I couldn’t sleep so I thought I might as well come downstairs. Didn’t want to disturb you.’
Looking bemused, Frank runs a hand back over his mussed-up hair and steps closer. ‘You up to something there, honey?’
‘Oh, Frank …’ I shake my head and laugh, knowing there’s no point in trying to keep it secret. Because his gaze is on my screen now and he can see exactly what I’ve been looking at.
‘What’s this?’
‘Oh God,’ I groan. ‘It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday!’
‘What?’ He bends slightly and blinks at the screen. ‘Where’s this?’
‘Paris,’ I reply.
‘ Paris ?’
‘Yes, love,’ I say with a resigned smile.
A pause. ‘You mean, we’re going to Paris? You and me?’
‘Yes, darling. You and me!’
‘But … can we afford that?’
‘I can, Frank. I’ve booked it. We’re going away for five days—’
‘Five days in Paris? I’d love that. You know I would. I’ve always wanted to go there—’
‘Me too!’
‘—But I can’t just assume it’s okay,’ he cuts in. ‘With work, I mean. With Dev …’
‘I’ve already cleared it with Dev,’ I explain. And then I get up and turn to face him, sliding my arms around his waist.
‘And he’s okay with that?’
I nod. ‘He is.’
‘Oh, darling,’ he murmurs. ‘Thank you. I can hardly believe you’ve done this.’ His hair is flecked with silver now, and crinkles have gathered around his deep brown eyes. But age suits Frank. He’s fit and strong and strikingly handsome. Infuriatingly – even at his most maddening moments – I’ve never not fancied him.
‘So, you think you’ll enjoy it?’ I ask.
‘What, being together, just us?’ He laughs softly. ‘God, yes. I can’t think of anything better.’
I smile and kiss him on the lips. So we’ve made it. Plenty of times, I thought we’d never get this far. I pull back and take his hands in mine. ‘D’you realise what this trip is, Frank? Apart from your birthday treat, I mean?’
He chuckles. ‘A completely mad but brilliant thing to do?’
‘Well, yes – it’s definitely that. But it’ll also be the first time we’ve been away together since those first trips of ours. You know, in our early days when you and I were long distance … d’you remember?’
He blows out air and grins, and now I see that his eyes are shining. ‘Of course I remember, Carly. How could I forget?’ He holds my hands tightly. ‘So, what’re we going to do with ourselves in Paris?’
I smile, filled with love for him and feeling so very, very lucky. ‘Don’t worry about that, Frank,’ I say, kissing him. ‘I have a few ideas …’