Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Alice’s House Near the Sea
The sun began to fade far quicker than Alice had expected it to, although she had read for almost three hours, enjoying the pot of tea in the library room.
It had always been her favourite room in the house with its sash windows and heavy drapes.
Looking upwards at the tall ceiling with a beautiful rose at its centre, she recalled her joy when she first noticed it when viewing the house.
She was spending one last evening in the house that she once lived in with her husband as it would soon be someone else’s home.
Alice’s stomach had rumbled an hour ago, and grateful to have mastered the art of ordering food online, she had enjoyed a tasty curry that had arrived from her favourite place on South Road.
She ate her meal at a small table that overlooked the distant sand dunes, a strip of the wild Irish Sea beyond just visible.
She thought about herself and George then, as she often did, taking windswept walks when they were younger.
One particularly windy day they had laughed when a gust of wind made George’s trousers billow out like a windsock and lifted her hat from her head, sending it rolling towards the water.
George had run after it, and managed to rescue it, not before falling flat on his backside in the wet sand, to roars of laughter from Alice.
They had warmed up at home in front of a blazing fire, drinking hot chocolate with a slug of brandy added. The house, long neglected, had been a project, but they saw the potential and over time had transformed it into a stunning home.
It had been fortunate that George’s brother was a carpenter and at weekends they all rolled their sleeves up and got stuck in together. There were so many memories made in this house but, in some ways, it was like a mausoleum now.
She had rattled around the empty rooms of the four-bedroomed Georgian house for long enough when she decided to sell up and rent the small apartment. The fact that it had once been a part of her childhood home felt like fate stepping in.
With the light fading, Alice decided to stay for the evening and take a taxi back to the flat in the morning, so after a whisky nightcap she settled into her bedroom with the primrose-coloured walls and dark-wooden furniture.
Her fingers ran over the framed photograph of George that sat on the bedside table in a silver frame.
‘Hello, George,’ she said as she settled down into the bed with the white Egyptian cotton sheets.
‘I have met some lovely people in an apartment I am renting, and I know you would like them,’ she told him.
‘I did consider buying, as I know you think renting is no investment, but at my age I’m not sure there is a lot to invest in,’ she told him.
‘I like to think I can help them in some way, and I know you would agree. Especially Jess and her daughter, Maisie. A more adorable child you could never meet.’ She smiled to herself.
She chatted away to George as if he was in the room.
‘Declan is a fine young man too. I get the feeling it won’t be too long before he is working in the office. Oh, George, can you imagine how wonderful it would be for someone to bring the old office back to life, having meetings with clients, just like the old days?’
She closed her eyes and recalled the busy days in the office when she would call in and insist George took a lunch break and would drag him to a café nearby, where they would drink coffee and eat chicken Caesar salad.
It was the nineteen sixties and they would sit at a window seat in the café, and observe the mini-skirted ladies, some in striking black and white clothes and wearing black winged eyeliner.
Workers in suits would walk alongside the hippie types with their psychedelic colours and long hair.
It had been the most exhilarating time, yet it all felt like yesterday.
‘Mark is a lovely man too,’ she continued. ‘A little shy, and clearly still missing his wife, but he is coming out of his shell a little each day I think.’
‘Anyway, my darling, this is the last time I will be staying here as the new family will be moving in in the very near future. I hope the house brings them as many treasured memories as it did us,’ she said, her voice breaking.
‘Oh, and they loved the period furniture here, so most of it is staying. I agreed a good price with them, you will be pleased to hear.’ She smiled.
‘I don’t really know if you can hear me.
’ She glanced heavenward. ‘But I like to think that you can. Goodnight, my love, until we meet again.’ She kissed her finger and pressed it against the glass of the picture.
Every day was a blessing at her age, she knew that. She looked forward to spending the day doing something wonderful and unexpected tomorrow. But for now, she would enjoy one last evening in the home that held such wonderful memories.