Chapter 11 Mia
Mia
The gardener’s cottage is chilly in the mornings, even with a fire merrily crackling in the front room. Mia has never been more thankful for her enormous fluffy slippers from the flea market.
What started as a desperate attempt to replace her grandmother’s earring has become one of her most cherished routines.
She usually wakes up early, too excited to sleep in and miss potential deals.
She would spend the entire bus ride, or trip on the Underground, plotting her attack.
She always went to the jewellery stalls first, followed by the stalls with vintage clothes – some of her favourites.
In fact, on her last treasure hunt, Mia had scored a pair of vintage Robert La Roche men’s sunglasses that she absolutely adored.
She sets them on the wonky dresser this morning, in the hope that the sun will peek out later on.
She is surprised by how much she’s enjoying this visit, especially given how she’d felt that first morning waking up here at Willowby.
She hasn’t thought about James in ages, and with the benefit of a little bit of distance, she’s gaining some perspective.
Perhaps James wasn’t the right one for her.
He had seemed perfectly happy to let Mia do all the heavy lifting in their short relationship.
Come to think of it, had he ever initiated in any way other than the physical?
Mia had cooked for him, written him little notes and taken an interest in his career.
What had James done for her? Mia comes up empty.
This week has been full of revelations. Mia had never pegged herself as someone who would enjoy being friends with a ghost, but life will always have its surprises.
And after yesterday’s antics, she doesn’t even mind the fact that Sam is still here.
It’s been quite funny watching him react to the harmless pranks John is playing on him and it does feel like justice is being served, which Mia is finding immensely satisfying.
And there’s something else, too, about having him around again, a long-buried feeling slowly rising inside her.
A feeling she isn’t quite sure what to do with.
Mia spends the morning tidying the cottage, and then heads up to the big house, snow gear in tow.
‘Good morning, Daddy,’ she chirps. Martin is tucked into the sunny breakfast nook, his long legs tangled beneath the scarred table. The newspaper and a steaming mug of coffee litter the tabletop. She gives him a kiss on the cheek and then moves to the kitchen sink to wash her hands.
‘You’re up early,’ Martin observes. He sets the paper aside to focus on her. ‘Cooking again?’
‘Of course,’ Mia responds. ‘We’ll need lunch, won’t we? And I have a hankering for gingerbread.’ Rummaging through the fridge, she pulls out a whole chicken and begins prepping it.
‘Your mother and I are headed out in a bit to visit the Fletchers. From what your mother says, Dot and Earl are thinking of moving to Malaga.’
‘I don’t blame them,’ Mia responds absently.
She’s searching for her mother’s kitchen shears.
‘If I could get away from winter, I would. Although I always prefer a white Christmas.’ As she says it, she suddenly remembers a mostly jokey argument with Sam years before where he’d been adamant that snow on Christmas was too clichéd and predictable to be enjoyable.
It brings a reluctant smile to Mia’s face as she recalls how shocked she’d been by the revelation.
Martin chuckles. ‘The snow has never bothered me. But your mother has started making noises about spending the winters somewhere warmer.’
Mia makes short work of chopping the chicken carcass into several pieces. ‘Would you mind finding the peeler for me? Mum must have reorganized since the last time I was here. I can’t find anything.’
‘’Course, darling.’ Martin slides to his feet and works his way methodically through the drawers, eventually handing her the tool. ‘How’re things at the hospital?’
‘It’s been good. Sometimes they have me sub in at the front desk if someone calls in sick.
I spend a lot of time checking IDs and printing visitor badges.
On the plus side, I get to chat with a lot of random people, and help them figure out where their loved one is staying.
But it’s pretty dull when it’s slow. Thank goodness for the book club. ’
‘You gals read anything good lately?’
‘Mmm, a couple of memoirs. Oh, and a thriller about this female serial killer who returns to the same wellness resort year after year to exact revenge on the staff there. That one was a page turner.’
‘Send me the link,’ Martin says. ‘Your mother bought me a Kindle and I’m learning how to use it.’
‘Look at you all hip and with the times.’ Mia peels several parsnips and chops them into large pieces. ‘How’s retirement?’
Martin sighs. ‘You know, I’m thinking about picking up some part-time work. Your mother says I’m in her hair too much now that I’m home all the time. You want me to chop that onion for you?’
‘Absolutely. You know I hate cutting those. I always cry.’
Martin chuckles and sets himself up with another cutting board and knife. As he slices the onion into thin pieces, he hums to himself.
Thinking about what John’s told her of his musical career, Mia asks, ‘Did you ever act or sing while you were in school, Daddy?’
Martin laughs. ‘Oh, yes. I was in a production of Treasure Island that brought down the house. It wasn’t a musical, but the acting was unparalleled.’ He gives her a wink. ‘For a school production, at least. It was quite fun. That’s actually where your mother and I met, you know.’
‘I thought you met when you were both working at the fish and chip shop in uni?’
Martin shakes his head. ‘That’s when we went on our first date.
But we actually met during that production.
I don’t think your mother even knew of my existence then, but I was captivated by her.
She just had this energy about her – like she could take on the whole world and make it better.
I took one look and fell in love. Even considered proposing that very minute.
She was dating some athletic chap at the time, what was his name?
Ah, that’s it – Thomas Higgins. Can you imagine your mum as a Mrs Higgins?
’ Martin shakes his head. ‘Doesn’t suit her.
Anyway, they were fairly serious, so I kept my distance.
But I just felt like we were meant to be, you know? ’
‘Aw, Dad, that’s so lovely.’ Mia scoops the sliced onions into the pot and quickly peels several purple carrots. Martin peers at her, a perplexed expression on his face.
‘Such a strange colour for carrots.’
‘They’ll taste almost exactly the same,’ Mia assures him. ‘But they look even prettier.’ She chops the carrots into thick pieces and tosses them in with the onions and parsnips. After washing her hands, she asks, ‘So did Mum remember you when you met up again at university?’
Martin lets out a laugh. ‘Not at all! She actually walked up to me and introduced herself. I can still hear the way she said it – a little shy but with a touch of excitement. “Hi, I’m Penny Clarke. Do you want to grab a drink after our shift ends?”’
‘And of course you said yes.’ Mia arranges the chicken over the chopped vegetables and adds a few pieces of butter on top.
This conversation is reminding her of the first time she met Sam, and despite her best efforts to ignore it, she’s feeling nostalgic.
She’d been thirteen and painfully awkward for the whole interaction, for which Charlie had mercilessly teased her afterwards, but honestly who could blame her?
Sam was literally the hottest guy in school and he’d seemed genuinely interested in talking to her – it was enough to make any teenager weak at the knees.
She’d been so enthralled by him that she’d spent most of the school year daydreaming about Sam asking her out on a date.
Martin nods. ‘Of course. I was so happy to see her, and obviously I remembered her. But what blew me away was I still felt exactly the same about her. As if no time had passed. The same thrill of excitement, the same anticipation and desire to spend the rest of my life with her. When you find the right person, there’s just something about them.
You just know – or at least your subconscious does.
Even if it takes a while to end up together.
’ He grabs a dishcloth and wipes down the counter where Mia was working.
‘Love doesn’t just fizzle out after a certain amount of time.
Not if it’s the person you’re meant to be with.
’ Martin looks off into the distance, smiling as he allows himself to be lost in his memories.
His words have struck an unexpected chord inside Mia, and she finds her chest growing tight as the memory of Sam saying he loved her all those years ago resurfaces.
She grips the edge of the sink firmly, willing the wave of emotion away.
After a few moments and some steadying breaths, Mia turns round to her dad, just as he goes on, ‘Now, your mother, she was talented. Could light up a room. She always came so alive on stage. When she was in a production I would go to every one of her shows. And I’d just sit there in the front row, in awe of how comfortable she was in front of a crowd. Just incredible.’
Her dad lapses into a comfortable silence, and Mia moves some of the dirty dishes to the sink.
Hearing her father’s version of how he and her mum fell in love has stirred up a confusing sense of longing in her.
She’d always wanted a happy marriage like her parents’, but the chances of it happening feel further away than ever.
‘Dad,’ she ventures after a few minutes, ‘what if I never find someone like that? What if I’m meant to end up single for ever and alone?’
‘Pssht,’ Martin shakes his head. ‘You’ve got plenty of time to find someone.’
‘I’m twenty-eight.’