Chapter 25
Noah
His words kept ringing in my ears, like a reel on repeat. He was scared. He was fucking scared, and what we were attempting was truly rushed and irresponsible, and here I was again sat down with the practice manager who was speaking words I wasn’t taking in. They had…what?
“We have Dr Rajan available from tomorrow, you’ll remember him; he’s worked here before and has recently returned from an assignment abroad. What date are you thinking of leaving us?”
Leaving? Yes, I was. Probably. Definitely.
My skin felt like it was crawling just sitting here, feeling like I was completely out of place.
I didn’t belong here anymore. I belonged somewhere else, and I couldn’t even make sense of all of that in my head.
In a way, I felt like I was being sacked.
Kicked out head first, when I was the one who had requested to leave.
Six months. Somehow I already knew I wouldn’t be coming back.
“I can leave anytime. When are you… Tomorrow, you said?”
“Dr Rajan is very experienced and knows his way around the practice. He will slot in. If you could email him with any handovers you deem necessary, he will pick up your clinics.”
“Ahh.” I scratched my beard. A full one since I’d been too frazzled to look after myself.
These days? I lived for the evenings when I got to speak to Fox, and it wasn’t enough.
Nothing was nearly enough, and my leg was bouncing nervously.
“I can leave now then?” At ten in the morning? Apparently so.
“We have two paramedics and a trainee in today, so one of them can take your room. It would be helpful.”
We were never overstaffed. Ever. It was almost like he’d planned this, looking slightly too overenthusiastic to see the back of me. The feeling was entirely mutual, I realised, as I stood up and shook his hand. Said words as if on automatic. Polite. Stern. Agreeable.
I wasn’t popular. I was unsociable and difficult at times and set in my ways. I liked to run my clinics the way I ran them. I liked my office the way it was, and now I was doing…this?
A long overdue change of scenery, where I was finally.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Was I really doing this? Apparently so, as I exited the room, swung past the reception to do something I’d already forgotten.
My heel turn in the middle of the room was a spectacle in itself, spinning around and heading back to my office, getting evil stares from both our receptionist and the lost souls in the waiting room.
None of them would see me today, and where I normally would have muttered out some excuse to my attentive audience?
Today I kept my head down and let the door slam shut behind me.
My room. Nothing personal here, every drawer marked with its contents. Clean and sterile. My chair locked in the correct setting.
Perhaps this had been my life so far. Maybe it had been good. And now? Now it wasn’t because just standing here made me feel nervous, and I was sweating and I just wanted to do what I always did.
I wanted to run. Run away from my goddamn boring life, and I wanted a new, ready-made paradise in a Scottish castle, complete with a man called Fox. I laughed out loud. Yes. I was going mad. Totally mad.
The drive back to my house didn’t even feel familiar anymore, and where I had previously packed a few belongings into boxes, thinking I was getting myself prepared and organised?
Now I picked them up and threw them in the car.
Emptied my wardrobe into a bin liner and shoved the meagre contents of my drawers into another.
Kitchen? A few of my favourite mugs. The saucepan that held just the right amount of pasta for one. I chucked it in the box I’d put on the table. The one I’d marked for the tip.
Furniture? Dad would sort it. Get it shipped or stored or…
What was I doing? On a goddamn whim?
Still, I was doing it, and my energy seemed to know no bounds.
Because Fox needed me and I knew full well the more honest truth was that I needed him.
I needed to feel the way I felt when he was with me and I needed to make him smile, and I was tired of the peace and quiet.
Of the sterile room and the house that wasn’t a home.
I was tired. Yet I was full of enthusiasm as I went through my boxes and piles of paperwork and grabbed the important documents, charges and leads. My laptop. A few books. Certificates and diplomas and…
My car was full, stacked to the brim as I picked up a vase. One Mum and Dad had once given me and I’d kept hidden in a cupboard. It had been too overwhelming on my small windowsill, but it would look fantastic in Fox’s bay window.
I hoped he wouldn’t mind, when I knew he wouldn’t.
It would make him smile. Like I made him smile.
The warmth in my stomach felt like a brewing volcano as I locked up the house and got in the car, waving cheerily at my neighbour in the window.
She’d wonder where I’d gone, but it didn’t matter.
This wasn’t my life anymore, and none of this was important.
It wasn’t like Mum and Dad came down to see me here, in a shoebox with no soul.
Instead, I drove up to their house and got out, like I’d done weekly for years.
I was suddenly feeling a million years old.
At the same time, I was twelve again, carrying a massive secret that I thought might destroy me.
It hadn’t. Instead, it had given me peace. And once again, I would have peace.
“Darling,” Mum said, popping her head out the front door. “Oh!”
“I know,” I said. “Career break starts now.”
“That’s sudden.”
“Not really. It’s… It’s all good, Mum. I’m ready to go and I really… Mum, be happy for me!”
The tears were unexpected. But also not. This was all overwhelming.
“I’m not sad, darling. I’m thrilled. You’re finally doing something for yourself and getting out of that rut of yours.
Adventure awaits, and anyway.” She fished a tissue out of her pocket and dabbed her face.
Then dabbed mine. Fuck. I hadn’t expected to be crying like this, but here I was sobbing like a baby.
“Sorry,” I snorted out.
“Oh, don’t be. We’re coming up in two weeks, remember? Seeing the Lochs and all that? Spending some time with Fox and now yourself too, and we’re so excited to see the school, and of course. It looks very scenic online.”
“Yes.” I had no words.
“Dinners here will be lonely without you popping around in the week.”
“Scotland is beautiful. I’m sure they have great retirement villages.” I tried to smile. She laughed out loud.
“Dad’s been looking at one that has its own golf course.”
“What?”
“You know us. Suddenly, there will be grandchildren, and what are we going to do down here moping around? We’ll give it six months, and then we’ll put the house on the market. Perhaps go on a cruise and end up somewhere nice. Aunt Tara gave us some suggestions.”
“Did she now?”
“Yes, she said Kilmartin School is very famous. Was well impressed that you’re about to move there.”
“It’s…” I didn’t even know how to describe it. It wasn’t home; instead, it was…longing. I didn’t even care where he lived, as long as I got to be there with him.
“Darling, you’ve had what…four nights in total together.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re giving up your entire life.”
“Yes.”
“Good for you,” she said, finally grabbing my arm and dragging me through the house. “It’s the right thing to do; you’ve been lounging around in that awful house down there far too long.”
“It was an investment property.”
“Yes, and you invested nothing living there. Just droned around and went to work and met nobody and grew older. Luckily, you also grew wiser. Derek! Noah is here, come make the tea. I have sample invites he needs to go through!”
Oh. And here was Dad.
“You’re leaving then? Want me to check your tyres before you set off? How long will the drive be? I looked at the route. I think Warwick Services is a good one, as is Keswick. Make sure you stop and eat. Don’t overdo it just because you want to get there faster.”
“It will be fine, I drove up and down to uni for years.”
“Yes, but that was…years ago, and it was Newcastle. Not Scotland.” My dad gave me a knowing look. I gave him one back.
“Dad…”
“Noah. The furniture. Shall I ship it up? Or store it? Because… Son.”
“I hope I won’t be coming back. But there isn’t much space…”
“Then let me know. Talk to Fox.”
“We talk. We talk all the time.”
“But do you talk about what’s important?”
Yes, Dad. And also. No. We hadn’t actually talked about the most important thing. What happened when he got sick and tired of me? When I annoyed the crap out of him? When I’d put my wanky, colourful vase in his pretty window and he’d pick it up and chuck it at me?
And just like Dad could read my mind? I could read his.
“It will be okay, Dad.”
“It absolutely will be,” he said sternly.
“As long as you don’t run off as soon as things get tough.
Do you think I’ve stayed here all these years for my health?
It’s been tough. It’s been awful and hard and terrible at times.
But, Noah. It’s also been great. And Mum and I?
We never go to bed on an argument, and you shouldn’t either. ”
“That’s what all the leaflets say. The marriage counselling ones the two of you kept lying around.”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “They remind us both of where we’ve sometimes been, and where we are now.
That is what you need to focus on. Whenever things get tough, put yourself back on that beach.
Think of how you felt when he came back to you that evening.
And yes, no need to get embarrassed, we were right next door.
You, oh my, were…ahem…having the time of your life.
Mum and I? We had to go on a very long walk.
So remember that. The good bits always overshadow any bad ones.
Keep it that way. Don’t run away, just face it.
Sit down. Figure it out. Always the best solution. ”
My dad was wise. He was also an idiot, whistling loudly as he went off to make us tea.
And Mum? Fuck. The wedding invites were insane. Our names and swirly gold inlays were superbly over the top.
I didn’t mind. Honestly, I didn’t care. If it made Mum happy? I’d go with it. So I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent Fox a text.
I’m on my way. Don’t wait up.
“Another first.” Mum sighed, smiling knowingly reading over my shoulder. You used to send that text to us, every time you came home from uni.”
“Yes.”
“Now you send it to him.”
“Yes.” Emotional? Me?
“And one day, your kids will send you the same one. And you know what, Noah?”
“No?”
“It always hits the same. Family. Being together again.”
“We will be.”
“Retiring in Scotland seems like a good option now. I’ll miss you, darling.”
“We’ll talk.” We would. Because yes. Big changes. Also, small ones. Distance. Love.
Oh God, the love.
“I love you, remember that. We both love you so very much.”
“I know, Mum.”
Then I just sat there. Because there was nothing more I could say.