Chapter Nineteen
I spend the rest of the afternoon preparing a (hopefully) delicious roast dinner, so that Lucy and Alex can simply tuck in and get down to fixing things without fannying around with cooking or ordering in.
I’ve never cooked much before, I usually just scoff down frozen ready meals or treat myself to the odd homemade omelette, but when I passed the butchers on the way back to the cottage, I thought a romantic meal might be just the ticket.
And now, after a good couple of hours of hard work, the smell of roast chicken spreads throughout the house, confirming that I followed that recipe I found online correctly.
Lucy comes home at around five thirty, and she runs straight into the kitchen, her face a picture of confusion and surprise.
‘You - you’re cooking?’
I respond to her stare with a big, cheesy grin. ‘Yep, it’s kind of a thank you for everything. Plus, Alex is coming for dinner tonight, and I wanted to take the pressure off you so you can just relax and talk with him.’
‘Wait, Alex is coming round?’ She does a double-blink. ‘How do you know? Did you invite him?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘Oh, Alicia, I told you to stay out of all this!’ She throws her bag on the floor, uncharacteristically enraged.
‘I’m sorry, it’s just, well, I can’t stand to see you so down in the dumps. I had to do something.’
‘No, you didn’t! This was not your place, Leesh, not your place at all.’ She rakes through her hair with one hand, gnawing at her nails on the other. ‘You’re so out of order right now.’
‘I know, I know, but … but just please give dinner a chance, alright?’
With a deep, slow breath, Lucy begins to calm down, though she still glares furiously at me. ‘Fine, I’ll eat your stupid dinner. But just stay out of my life, Alicia. I’m serious.’
The warning is a dagger through the heart and unexpected tears spring to my eyes, but I give a shaky nod, knowing I really crossed a line this time. A line Lucy had made explicitly clear, and yet I walked all over it, certain that I knew what was best for her.
‘Okay,’ I whisper.
When Alex arrives half an hour later, I make myself scarce, holing up in my bedroom as if I’m a moody teenager. The muffled voices from downstairs sound cheerful enough, but will they still be in good spirits after they get down to the real discussions?
Coming to Alex’s work was a crazy thing to do, Lucy’s right, my behaviour has been so totally out of order.
Here she is opening her home to me, letting me live with her for the last two months without paying a penny, and how do I repay her?
I stick my nose into her private business, going behind her back to grill her fiancé not once, but twice.
God, I’m the worst best friend in the world.
The worst maid of honour, too. Thanks to me, it’s possible the wedding might not even happen.
All I can do is leave them to it tonight and pray that Alex fixes this issue as easily as he fixed Barry’s dodgy radiator.
In an attempt to calm my frayed nerves, I light the candle on the windowsill.
As the wick crackles and slowly smoulders, the fragrance soothes me, and I relax against the pillow propped behind my back.
I just love how the simple sound and smell of a great candle can instantly lift your mood, it’s always been that way for me at least. I wonder if the hen party ladies have tried out their wax melts yet, they seemed to be really impressed with them.
I’ve never made candles for anyone but myself before, it felt good to share my passion with others …
I wake with a sudden start, not realising I’d dozed off.
Furtive whispers carry from downstairs, indicating that Alex and Lucy have made their way into the living room.
Tiptoeing across the landing, I peer down the staircase, careful to stay out of view.
I can’t make out what they’re saying in their hushed tones, but it sounds reassuringly gentle.
Finally, they embrace, their lips meeting in a soft yet quietly passionate kiss, and my heart soars with relief.
Wistfully, I watch as Lucy leads Alex by the hand to the hall, and an unfamiliar longing pulls at my chest. My friends - new and old - are awesome and I wouldn’t change them for the world, and yet I’m here wondering for the first time what it would be like to have a person all my own.
When I’m certain Alex has left, I creep downstairs to the kitchen, where I find Lucy in the middle of washing up.
‘Oh, don’t do that, I’ll sort it!’ I insist.
‘It’s fine, you cooked, the least I can do is the dishes.’
Still a little sheepish from earlier, I grab a tea towel and sidle up to her. ‘I’ll dry, then.’
We fall into the task silently, neither one of us daring to speak up first. But when I’ve dried off at least three tea mugs, Lucy finally breaks the brittle ice between us.
‘I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier. I don’t know what came over me.’
‘No, you were right to have a go, I shouldn’t have inserted myself where I wasn’t needed.’
‘Well, it seems as though you were needed,’ Lucy concedes with a half smile. ‘If you hadn’t, who knows when Alex and I would have finally had this conversation?’
Another silence settles over us, but this time, I’m the one who clears her throat, determined to get to the crux of the matter.
‘So, what’s the plan, then?’
‘We’re not exactly sure yet, but Alex is adamant that I don’t sell Appleseed Cottage.
’ Her eyes shine with relief. ‘He wants to live here with me, but he’s just got to figure out what will happen to Phyllis’ house.
I’ve told him we’ll sort it together, as a team, but I still feel dreadful that we’ll probably have to convince her to sell the place. She might hate me if it comes to that.’
‘She won’t, anyone can see she can’t wait to officially have you as a daughter-in-law.’
Listlessly, Lucy sighs and lifts her shoulders. ‘Well, we’ll just have to see what happens. Still, I’m glad Alex and I cleared the air, it’s a huge weight off my mind just to have had the conversation out in the open, even if we haven’t got to the perfect solution yet.’
Lips pursed, I nod. Thank goodness they’ve finally talked it out. Hopefully, they’ll be able to get it all sorted before the wedding happens, though it’s looking more and more unlikely, considering it’s not long at all now until the big day.
Beneath the lingering aroma of roast chicken and buttered veggies, I detect subtle aromas of peony and rose.
‘Did you use the wax melts I made you tonight?’ I ask, delighted.
‘Yep, they smell just divine, even Alex commented on how lovely the house smelt. I never knew you had such a nose for scent, Leesh. You should think about becoming a perfumer, or something.’
Chuckling, she continues washing up the dishes, but her words spin around my head like dizzying stars in a cartoon. I’m not sure I’d like to be a perfumer; it’s the act of pouring the wax and creating candles I love the most, after all.
Perhaps then … I could be a chandler?