Chapter 31
At noon on Wednesday, Veronica, Paulette, Milly, Laughlin, Saffy and I all met at the village hall to go through our Created With Love homework before Cake & Craft Club.
I’d wondered if anyone would have changed their mind after they’d had time to properly think about it but we all remained fully committed and had similar thoughts about how everything should work, so it didn’t take long to finalise everything.
Saffy, who’d started a part-time role at The White Willow on Monday, offered to set up a website as well as being our social media guru – a role she said she could easily manage around her shifts.
We were half an hour from the end of the session when Lorna’s name flashed up on my phone. It was noisy in the hall with the whirr of sewing machines and general chatter so I nipped out into the entrance lobby.
‘I’ve got some great news for you,’ she said.
‘Both couples have called me today with offers. They’re in the same strong position – chain-free with mortgages lined up – and both want speedy completions, so my suggestion is to go back and ask for best and final offers. Do I have your permission to do that?’
‘Yes, please. Do you think they’ll come back with the asking price?’
‘I’m confident they will, or perhaps even above it.’
Ten minutes later, Lorna rang again. One couple had come back with one grand under the asking price and apologies that they couldn’t stretch any further and the other offered three grand above on the proviso that the house was removed from the market immediately and we aimed for completion at the start of the Easter holidays.
‘They’ve got a deal,’ I said.
‘Everything okay?’ Milly asked when I returned to the room.
I sat down at my table, feeling dazed that it had all happened so fast. ‘My house has just sold.’
She offered me her congratulations and Paulette, Veronica and Laughlin all chipped in with theirs.
‘You look like you’re in shock,’ Laughlin said.
‘I am. And I’m panicking a bit. I need to be out by Easter and I haven’t got anywhere to go. There’s nothing on the market I like at the moment. Should I have waited until I found somewhere before I accepted?’
‘No!’ they chorused.
Next moment, I was flooded with offers of spare rooms if I either hadn’t found anywhere by the time my sale completed or I’d found somewhere that would complete after my sale.
Looking round my new friends, I felt overwhelmed by their kindness and counted my blessings once again that I’d stepped out of my comfort zone to join Cake & Craft Club.
* * *
I arrived home to a ‘sold’ banner across my ‘for sale’ board. Lorna and her team were impressively efficient. Christian must have been watching out for me because, as soon as I exited the car, he jogged across the road.
‘Sold already? That was quick.’
‘Way quicker than expected. Guess who’ll be spending this evening searching for houses online?’
‘I don’t suppose I could interest you in joining me for tea between house-hunting? Emma was meant to be coming over but one of the alpacas has a mouth infection so she’s waiting for the vet. I’ve made beef and ale pie and it’s way too big for one.’
‘Tea would be lovely, thanks. Hope the alpaca’s okay.’
We agreed on six o’clock so I showered and changed.
As I dried my hair in the mirror, I frowned at the state of it.
It needed some major care and attention.
I’d call into the hairdresser in Pippinthwaite this week and make sure I wasn’t a lost cause before I booked an appointment.
Running a brush through it, butterflies stirred in my stomach.
Christian had invited me to his house for a meal.
He’d never done that before. Was that a date?
Did I want it to be? I chewed on my lip, debating my feelings.
I liked Christian and I did find him attractive, but could I see us together as a couple?
I wasn’t so sure. As I replayed our brief conversation, I nearly laughed out loud at my train of thought.
Of course it wasn’t a date! Emma couldn’t join him and he’d prepared too much food for one – simple as that.
* * *
‘That was delicious,’ I told Christian as I placed my knife and fork down on my empty plate. ‘You’re a good cook.’
‘Thank you. I never used to be but Oliver’s mum, Kathryn, was really into cooking and she inspired me. I don’t know about you, but I find it a bit tedious cooking for one so I enjoyed experimenting when Emma was living here.’
‘I enjoy cooking but I agree with you about meals for one. I tend to batch cook and eat more ready meals than I should. Cliff used to help me.’ I laughed lightly.
‘Or rather he tried to. He usually got in the way and created way more mess than should have been humanly possible, but I enjoyed the company.’
Christian gave me a sympathetic smile. ‘I was thinking about you over New Year.’
Butterflies stirred in my stomach. ‘You were?’
‘Yes. I’m thinking it would have been five years since Cliff died.’
‘That’s right.’ I was so touched that he’d remembered that.
‘It’s been over thirty years since Kathryn died.’ Christian paused and frowned. ‘Crikey! It’ll be thirty-six years this October. I’ve no idea where that time has gone.’
‘You and Kathryn – you weren’t married, were you?’
‘No. It’s a long and complicated story.’
‘I’m happy to hear it over a cuppa. Only if you want to share.’
Christian smiled and nodded. ‘You’re on.’
He made some drinks and we settled in the lounge as he told me about meeting Kathryn as a teenager, that she’d been the love of his life and how a stupid argument had torn them apart.
He’d got together with Emma’s mum, Liv, marrying her when she was pregnant and had tried his hardest to make the marriage work but Liv knew he loved her as a friend rather than romantically and they split up after eight years.
He’d never expected to have a second chance with Kathryn as she was married but he kept seeing her around and it transpired that her husband, Hubert, was emotionally and physically abusive.
He’d also had a string of affairs and didn’t even try to be discreet about them.
‘Hubert gave Kathryn every reason to leave him,’ Christian said, ‘but she could have lost Willowdale Hall. Her ancestors built it and she loved it so much. She couldn’t bear the thought of that man owning it.’
Although he didn’t go into much detail about his relationship with Kathryn, I could hear in his voice how uncomfortable he felt about having an affair, despite him not cheating on anyone himself and despite Kathryn’s husband being a serial adulterer.
I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone cheating on their partner – such a hurtful and disrespectful thing to do – but I knew from personal experience that it wasn’t always that black and white.
It sounded as though Kathryn’s marriage had had its own complexities, albeit in a different way to my own.
My thoughts strayed to Will – something they’d done with even greater frequency than usual since opening up to Paulette on Saturday – and the debate I’d frequently had with myself as to whether I’d really cheated on Cliff.
Even though I liked Christian and I was enjoying this deeper conversation with him, I didn’t feel any desire to open up to him about my own situation.
‘When Oliver was born,’ he continued, ‘it was so hard knowing that he was my son and I couldn’t be his dad.’
‘You always knew Oliver was yours? I assumed that was a recent discovery.’
Christian shook his head. ‘Only for Oliver. He found out roughly eighteen months ago, and I told Emma shortly after. I probably shouldn’t talk about that part as it’s more about them than me.’
‘I understand. But you’re close to them both now?’
‘Really close. You know, I spent decades feeling like such a failure because I wasn’t a proper dad to either of my kids and I’m so grateful that I’ve had the chance to start over with both of them.’
We both took a sip of our tea and then he hit me with the question that I always dreaded being asked. ‘You and Cliff never had kids?’
I shook my head and reeled off the standard reply.
‘Neither of us particularly wanted them.’ Will had wanted more kids.
Would that have happened? It was pointless torturing myself with another what if or maybe.
I’d chosen my path and it had been a child-free one and I’d had to come to terms with that.
If it hadn’t been for Cliff’s accident, it might have been different but…
Feeling myself welling up, I gazed around the room seeking out a distraction and my eyes landed on a wooden bowl on the coffee table.
‘That’s beautiful,’ I said. ‘Lovely quality wood. Is it oak?’
‘It is – oak from your husband’s supply.’
I whipped my head up. ‘You made it?’
Christian smiled. ‘I did. Give me a second.’
He left the lounge, returning moments later with a similar bowl. ‘This is for you. I’ve kept meaning to bring it across.’
I turned the bowl over, admiring the grain and the smooth finish. ‘You’ve been using Cliff’s lathe?’
‘I’d run out of room for storing the big carvings but I wasn’t ready to stop working with wood. I saw this article about a wood-turning course in the village hall newsletter so I signed up for that.’
I had a flashback to that August day when the newsletter arrived. I’d been at my lowest point then and it was amazing to think how much had changed in the space of five months.
‘I spotted that and wondered if you would too. Have you enjoyed it?’
‘Loved it. Wood carvings still have the edge for me – I like the bigger scale – but I’m learning all the time on the lathe so who knows? Do you want to see what else I’ve been making?’
I slipped my coat on and followed him outside to his workshop – an enormous extension to the back of his double garage. He flicked the light on and the first thing I noticed was the metal racking down the side walls, packed full of his chainsaw carvings.
‘So many!’ I exclaimed.