Chapter 18
I climbed out of Erin’s car and waving her off, watched her drive into the distance until she was no longer in sight.
Unzipping my bag, I pulled out my keys and turned to The Knitting Nook.
Staring at the entrance, my gaze drew upwards to my living room window.
Everything was in darkness and I couldn’t face going in.
Struggling to hold myself together, I knew why.
Racing to the hospital and seeing Joyce’s despair had hit too close to home.
It had reminded me of events and emotions I’d spent the last year and a half trying to forget.
Stepping into my empty flat would be like reliving the aftermath of Gran’s death.
I wouldn’t just be opening a door; I’d be opening the floodgates that held back my tears.
I dug out my phone, hoping Gideon had called. But there were no messages or notifications on the screen. My heart sank. The last thing I wanted was to be on my own, but without even a text from Gideon to check on me, Joyce, or Richard, making the first move didn’t feel right.
Maybe he’d meant to but had fallen asleep? Or maybe he felt too embarrassed after his big moment was cut short? I scolded myself for making excuses. Or maybe you’re just being too kind, Hattie?
I supposed Gideon’s silence was a good thing. If he came round, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t pick up where he’d left off and I wasn’t in the frame of mind to talk about our future. I was too preoccupied with thoughts of the past.
Putting my phone away again, I tucked my hands in my coat pockets.
I looked up and down the empty street and with nowhere else to go, made my way to The Royal Oak.
I had no intention of drowning my sorrows, I simply wanted to hear Settledown voices and experience normality.
What better place for that than the local pub?
As soon as I entered, my face fell. The place wasn’t just quiet, it was abandoned. There wasn’t a soul in sight: even Ted’s seat at the bar was vacant. Checking my watch, my shoulders slumped. I hadn’t realised quite how late it was.
Alex suddenly appeared from a room behind the bar. Jingling the set of keys in his hand, he cocked his head and smiled. ‘What time do you call this? I was just about to lock up.’
As he walked towards me, I mustered a smile of my own, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tears welling in my eyes. ‘No worries.’ I turned to leave.
‘Hey.’ Alex rushed over to stop me from going any further.
Willing myself not to cry, I didn’t know if his concern made me feel better or worse.
‘I only said I’m closing. Not that you can’t have a drink.’ He bolted the door shut. ‘Come on. Glass of white, is it?’
I nodded, appreciative.
He guided me to the bar and peeling off my coat, put both it and my bag down on a table.
I hoisted myself onto a stool and watched Alex grab two glasses.
‘Mind if I join you?’ Without waiting for an answer, he filled both anyway and bringing them with him, joined me on my side of the bar.
‘Tough night?’ he asked.
I lifted my drink and again, nodded. ‘You could say that.’
‘How is Richard?’ Alex appeared genuinely concerned.
‘News travels fast,’ I said – not that I was surprised word had got out.
‘It does when there’s an ambulance involved.’
I dreaded to think what tales were already being made up. I smiled. ‘He’s going to be fine.’
Alex visibly relaxed. ‘That’s good to hear.’ He clinked his glass against mine and we both took a drink.
I pictured Richard pale and weak in his hospital bed while Joyce, with her bloodshot eyes and cheeks drained of colour, eased him forward so she could plump up his pillows. ‘He’s actually doing well considering.’
‘And Joyce? How’s she bearing up?’
‘She’s okay too.’
Alex stared straight ahead. ‘And you?’
Until that night, I hadn’t realised how much of Gran’s death I’d held on to.
How, rather than deal with my grief, I’d buried it deep inside of me.
I’d focused on practical things like renovating The Knitting Nook and decorating the flat.
I’d put time and energy into my relationship with Gideon.
What I hadn’t done is give myself the emotional space needed to properly mourn and being back at the hospital had brought all my suppressed anguish to the surface. ‘I’ve had better evenings.’
A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down.
‘You must think I’m bonkers. One minute I’m whingeing to you about Gideon.
In the next I’m rambling on about some ridiculous date.
And here I am now about to cry into my drink.
’ I sighed at how pathetic I must’ve seemed.
‘Tonight just brought it all back. You know, the day Gran died.’
Alex reached out and ran his hand up and down my spine.
‘It was so sudden. A stupid fall that shouldn’t have led to…’ A tear ran down my cheek and I wiped it away. ‘Instead of moving in, you should be running for the hills.’
Alex dropped his hand. ‘Actually, I wanted to…’ He paused, as if not sure he should continue.
‘Go on,’ I said, thinking he should.
‘Forget it. It doesn’t matter.’
‘Alex, you’ve started so you may as well finish.’
He twisted his glass between his palms. ‘I’m just not sure it’s a good idea.’
With him needing to be out of The Royal Oak in a couple of weeks and me in need of the extra cash, I’d thought it a perfect solution for both of us. I shifted round a little in my seat to face him. ‘Since when?’
Alex sipped on his drink.
‘Is this because of Gideon?’ I asked. ‘Because if it is, you needn’t worry. Like I said, he’s admitted he behaved badly. He doesn’t know what got into him, and nor do I.’
Alex raised his eyebrows, making it clear he wasn’t convinced.
‘Besides, as I’ve also said before, it’s up to me who I have living in my flat. No one else.’
Realising my tone was unfair, I fell quiet. Putting myself in Alex’s shoes, his reluctance was understandable. Being new to the area, of course the last thing he’d want was any kind of trouble. I faced forward again. ‘Look, I get it. And whether you move in or not, that’s up to you.’
Alex put his glass to his lips, as if trying to hide his smile. ‘You don’t say.’
I knew he was teasing me and, leaning in, I gave him a playful shoulder bump. ‘All I’m saying is, don’t imagine problems where there aren’t any. There’s a room at mine if you want it. Just let me know what you decide when you’re ready.’ I raised my glass. ‘Deal?’
Alex raised his. ‘Deal.’
We both drank to seal our agreement.
‘I’m sorry for turning up like this,’ I said.
‘The truth is, I didn’t want to be on my own.
Having your own place is great, until it isn’t.
Sometimes it gets lonely.’ Realising how that might sound, I looked at Alex, mortified.
‘Please don’t take that the wrong way. That wasn’t an attempt to pressurise you into a rental agreement. ’
Alex laughed. ‘I know exactly what you meant. I also live on my own remember.’ He fell quiet for a moment. ‘You must miss your Gran?’
I took a deep breath and exhaled. ‘Always. But tonight especially.’ I glanced his way. ‘I really envy you.’
‘Me?’ Alex appeared surprised. ‘Why?’
‘For having a mum and a sister and a grandma who knits you scarves.’
‘Don’t forget my three nieces and one nephew. They’d never forgive you if you did.’
I smiled. ‘That’s my point. When life gets tough, you have people around to distract you. To help put things into perspective. You must be looking forward to seeing them.’
‘I am.’ Alex gave me a knowing look. ‘But after five minutes in their company, I’ll be wishing I was back here.’
I prodded Alex’s arm. ‘You don’t mean that.’
He chuckled. ‘Oh, I do.’
I still didn’t believe him.
‘Tell me about them,’ I said.
Alex’s eyes lit up. ‘They’re loud and messy and have absolutely zero filters. The first thing Mum’ll do when I land is look me up and down and say Have you lost weight? ’
I laughed. Whoever Alex was impersonating, it couldn’t have been his mother. There wasn’t a woman on earth who sounded like that.
‘Grandma will ask me when I plan on getting married, whether I have a girlfriend or not.’
‘And do you?’
‘Have a girlfriend?’ Alex looked at me direct. ‘No. I don’t.’
I felt my cheeks redden. ‘And Avery?’ My voice cracked. ‘What will she do?’
‘Avery will stand there while her out of control brood charge and tackle me to the ground.’
Easily picturing the scene, I sighed, wistful. ‘Sounds perfect.’ Back to sitting in silence, I wondered what life would’ve been like if it hadn’t been just me and Gran. I wondered if I’d be lucky enough to one day grow a big family of my own.
‘You know what we need?’ Alex suddenly asked.
I indicated my almost empty glass. ‘Another drink?’
He got down from his seat and, pulling his mobile out of his pocket, grinned. ‘Music.’
‘You’re kidding me?’
He tapped his phone screen and as Wizard’s ‘I Wish it Could be Christmas Every Day’ began to play, he ramped up the volume. Laying his phone down on the bar, Alex held out his hand for me to take.
‘You’re asking me to dance?’
‘I am.’ He swung his hips to and fro in time with the beat. ‘Come on.’ He winked at me. ‘You know you want to.’
Watching his shoulders sway back and forth, I laughed, unable to remember the last time I’d given myself up to gay abandon.
I recalled how on Sunday mornings Gran would turn up the radio to sing and dance her heart out while she prepared lunch.
She was tone deaf and sounded like out-of-tune trombone, but she didn’t care; she was having fun.
As Alex continued to entice me, I heard Gran’s voice telling me to go ahead; after the evening I’d had, I deserved to let loose.
I jumped down onto my feet and taking Gran’s advice, accepted Alex’s hand.
Losing myself in the moment, all my stresses and strains dissipated.
The two of us danced to one Christmas tune after another.
Not only could Alex move, unlike me who’d inherited Gran’s somewhat unique tone and tenor, he could sing. His vocal range was impressive.
The tempo changed as the introduction to Alexandra Burke’s ‘Hallelujah’ kicked in. Alex’s gaze met mine and as we both fell quiet, a seriousness descended. As Alex stepped towards me, I knew I should look away, crack a joke, go and sit down… anything to break the spell. But I did nothing.
Alex took my hand and clasping it, he pulled me close.
I felt his other palm on the small of my back and letting him guide me, we gently swayed from side to side.
Breathing in his scent of sandalwood and spices, my chest felt light and, lifting my gaze, Alex stared back at me with an intenseness I’d never experienced before.
As the final song of his playlist, it came to end, but as if in a trance we carried on dancing.
The bubble that surrounded us suddenly burst, and coming back to my senses, I quickly let go of Alex and took a step back. ‘I’m sorry.’ I grabbed my coat and bag. ‘I should go.’ Running to the door, I slid open its bolt and without looking back, rushed out into the darkness.