Chapter 14
14
F leur woke up to the sound of a car going down the lane and looked over at the blind, where she could see the shadows of the trees outside filtering through the window. Sunshine streamed through and from what she could see, it looked as if it was going to be a nice day.
Remembering it was Saturday, meaning that she didn’t have to go to work, she very nearly did a horizontal happy dance; she had the whole day ahead to do nothing but potter about the place, drink cups of tea on repeat, dream about her holiday and read her new book. Did life really get much better than that? Not in our Champo’s book.
Padding out of bed, she slipped on her dressing gown, pulled up the blind, and stood looking out in the direction of the sea for a minute. Watching a small pale blue car wind its way down the lane and trundle past the cottage, heading in the direction of the beach car park, she watched as it parked, a woman got out, started to unload beach paraphernalia from the boot, and headed down in the direction of the sand. She loved living by the sea and watching people coming and going from the beach; it put a sort of slow, routine of niceness around her life. A few minutes later, she was down in the kitchen, where, on the worktop next to the kettle sat a cup of tea without any milk. Next to that, on a plate covered in cling film, was a teacake and by the smell in the air, the slow cooker on the side appeared to be filled with curry. She smiled to herself as she picked up the tea and put it in the microwave. Patrick was a diamond wrapped up in an electrician’s uniform. Can't be bad to be treated by one. He’d left early to go to a job in Brighton and had a long weekend ahead of him but had made Fleur a cup of tea, left out a teacake, and put a curry in the slow cooker. I mean, really? She smiled wryly to herself. Oh, how things had changed . Ben, not that he’d been around for a very long time, had barely been able to dress himself and had certainly found it out of his skillset to work out the intricacies of ironing his own shirt.
For years she’d been the one, and only one, to set out the breakfast things, the one behind the brain power and sheer humdrum of thinking about the next morning’s tea and breakfast. Blah, blah, blah, whatever. But now, as if by magic, it appeared that somebody else was doing it for her, and not only that, he was wrapped up in a nice shiny ab-filled bow. On a Saturday morning, with peace enveloping her like nothing else that felt really, really, really nice. Very special indeed. Princess vibes for our Fleur by way of a cup of tea and a curry? Yes, indeed.
The smell of washing powder and laundry came from the utility room; Fleur frowned to see washing hanging on the airer by the window – Patrick had hung a load of her work blouses before he’d left, too. The man was an enigma. She noted to herself that not only did he look like a dream, but he was a dab hand at doing stuff at home. He was a keeper, that was for sure. As she pushed the microwave button and opened the door, the diamonds on her forever ring glinted in the sunlight. Patrick had surprised her with the ring when she’d convinced herself that he was about to dump her. Talk about being taken by surprise. She loved the ring and him. However, what she really wanted, but hadn’t told anyone and had barely even recognised herself, was to add to the ring by popping a nice gold band beside it lined up like so. Like, she really wanted it. A lot.
For someone who’d been married before and had always sworn she would never, ever be stupid enough to do the same thing again, she was secretly sold on getting hitched to Patrick hook, line and sinker. She knew that if the subject of marriage came up—which looked as if it never would—she would be there at the drop of a hat, saying ‘I do’ or whatever it was that was said these days faster than anything. Did she want to be married to Patrick and be happy with him for the rest of her life? Oh my gosh, did she ever ? And, the bigger the white dress the better. Add a fat diamond to that, too. Plus, a nice tropical beach would be good but she wouldn't say no to the local church in Lovely either. She wouldn’t say no to anything. A ceremony in a cupboard would do.
Taking her cup of tea and teacake outside, she sat on the little terrace area by the back door and, for a while, just did nothing but think and listen to the birds chirping away and the sounds of the sea, faintly in the distance. The noise of people on the beach carried on the breeze, and though it was warm there was a definite coolness in the air hinting at colder weather incoming. Sitting and pondering what she was going to do for the day, Fleur thought about the Maui thing and the fact that she had the house to clean and give a good old reset to. Once that was done and dusted, she’d spend the afternoon in her studio creating new notebooks without any sort of schedule or prerequisite for the shop or markets, rather just letting herself play and do whatever she wanted.
As she sat mulling over her day, her phone pinged with a message from Lucy. She read through the message that informed her that the baby had been crying all night, that Lucy had had enough and was coming to Lovely Bay. Fleur chuckled to herself. Real life was starting to take hold in the Ben and Sarah household. She wondered how long it would be before the baby slept through. Lucy had her own bedroom at Ben’s and since not going back to ballet school, she’d been working at a job in London in a dance shop three days a week, working for a day in the deli, and living between Fleur’s house and Ben’s. A newborn’s screaming was changing things. The sibling thing had clearly lost its shine.
After answering the text from Lucy, Fleur sat and pondered Ben being closer and decided that it wasn’t quite as bad as she’d first thought. Ben’s new area had a good regular train service into London, which meant that when Lucy stayed with him, she could commute without any drama. Making another cup of tea, she mused how Lucy was coasting along and had settled nicely into working in the dance shop in London. She’d got the job via a friend who worked there. Lucy had filled in for her one day, had enjoyed it so much, and clicked with the store owner. The owner had been so impressed with Lucy’s deep knowledge of dance that she’d offered Lucy a three-day-a-week job which had suited Lucy down to the ground. She was also doing an online course in media studies, which she was enjoying and really everything had worked out well. Lucy was a different person from the one Fleur had watched walk over the railway steps at Lovely Station, frail and tiny and forlorn. She was back to her normal weight and seemed to be happier and more settled all around.
The only fly in the ointment, as far as Fleur was concerned, was the new baby. Fleur wondered how it would go and whether or not once the dust settled if Lucy might be envious or jealous, but so far, so good. In fact, Lucy seemed over the moon about having a sibling and was very excited about the idea of having a brother. She’d even been out and bought things for the baby with her money from her job, and Fleur had been more than encouraging because, really, what was the point of being anything else?
As she sat and pondered what Lucy was going to do with her life, she nodded to herself. Ever since the drama of Lucy collapsing a few times the bumps in the road had smoothed out and there wasn’t really much to tell. There’d been the baby’s arrival, but that had gone well and even Ben had proved that he was capable of being an adult and had navigated Lucy’s part in it all better than Fleur had hoped for.
Fleur made a second cup of tea, wrapped her hands around it and let the warmth soak into her palms as she sat on the little terrace, the morning air soft and still and thought about Lucy. She’d always known that being a mother was never something you finished and that it wasn’t a neatly tied-up story or a box you could tick and move on from, but Fleur had found navigating the young adult years tough, gnarly and difficult. She had to admit she’d not enjoyed the challenge. Give her a newborn baby’s head to sniff any day of the week. The young adult parenting was an ever-evolving thing, shifting and changing, stretching between joy and worry and all the non-eventful moments in between. Here they were, though, with Lucy back on the straight and narrow and everything going well. There had been a time, not all that long before, when Fleur had worried about Lucy constantly , her heart twisting at the sight of how frail, small, and lost she’d seemed. She’d spent nights lying awake, worrying and wondering if Lucy would find her way, feel better again, get back to her old self and ultimately would she be okay?
Now, Lucy very much was. Not only that, she appeared to be thriving, working, learning, laughing again and being part of the world. There was a new brightness to Lucy, a confidence Fleur hadn’t seen in her ever, really. A young adult who was starting to find her place in the world. The dance shop job had been unexpected but had come along at just the right time, giving Lucy a purpose, a routine, something she could pour herself into without the weight of expectations pressing down on her, a little bit of money and someone to answer to who wasn’t a teacher standing at the front of a dance class but a small business owner in the real world.
Fleur nodded at how things had turned out and said a silent thankful prayer that the worry had switched off. Lucy was young with loads of time to figure it all out. For now, Lucy could do a lot worse. Fleur closed her eyes for a minute and hoped that things weren’t about to change and that there wasn’t something bad around the corner.