Chapter Twenty-Two Lee #2
‘I suppose. I didn’t feel like one at the time.
Anyway, because I’d skipped a year at school everyone knew I’d be applying to universities soon enough.
At first they all thought I’d go away to study, but I wasn’t ready for that.
I liked living with Gran, I felt safe… steady for the first time.
And there are great universities in London.
’ I manage a small smile. ‘Mum and Dad were pretty pissed off that I turned down Cambridge. Choosing my own university was the first thing I ever did for myself, and Gran went to battle for me. She told them both to back off… only in much less polite language.’
Nico manages a smile. ‘I can imagine.’
‘When I finished uni and moved out of Gran’s place I really missed her,’ I confess. ‘So later, when she started needing a bit more help, it made sense for us to buy a place together.’
‘And this argument you had was about… the man you’ve been seeing?’ Nico asks carefully.
‘It started that way,’ I sigh, ‘but it led to her making some less than welcome remarks about my behaviour and general demeanour. And I think she’s frustrated because she feels like I’m hovering over her.
Which…’ I exhale. ‘I probably am. But I don’t think she gets how scary it was for us last year when she… ’
‘Yeah,’ Nico agrees, and I know that, like me, he’s remembering Gran, small and frail and suddenly old in that hospital bed, hooked up to a bunch of machines.
‘Maybe there were things that we’d both been bottling up.’ I shrug helplessly. ‘When you – or rather Phoebe – sent me that plane ticket it seemed like an opportunity to escape. Like the space would be good for both of us.’
‘Hopefully it will,’ Nico says, but there’s still a pinched groove between his brows.
‘So,’ I say eventually, trying to make the words sound light, ‘tonight’s our last night of freedom then. We can spend all day tomorrow getting ready for this Charles Saunders. I’m organising your whole house. He’s going to be deeply impressed.’
Nico groans, but his expression lightens. ‘You’re about to colour code my spice rack, aren’t you?’
‘Obviously not!’ I huff. ‘What sort of a system is that? I’ll alphabetise it.’
He laughs (even though I’m not joking) and we go back to our lunch.
Later, while he’s nagging Phoebe to get ready for bed, I call through to him from the kitchen, ‘Nico, where are your table linens?’
There’s a short, heavy silence, and then the sound of Phoebe and Nico dissolving into laughter.
Phoebe appears first, her freshly washed face all pink and glowing, her pyjamas covered in pictures of donuts and slices of pizza. ‘Table linens,’ she says in what I assume is supposed to be an impression of my accent. She sounds like Lady Bracknell.
‘I forget, Phoebe,’ Nico comes up behind her, with Taco trotting alongside, ‘where did we put the table linens? Was it in the larder with the decanters and the finest porcelain?’
My hands are on my hips. ‘You’re telling me you don’t even have napkins? How am I supposed to create a charming tablescape in these conditions?’
‘Tablescape,’ Nico’s lips quirk.
‘No, wait, we do have napkins,’ Phoebe says, and she starts rummaging around in the kitchen drawers before emerging with a triumphant yelp. In her hand she clutches a crumpled packet of paper napkins printed with tiny unicorns. ‘They’re from my birthday party last year,’ she explains.
Nico chokes on a laugh, but I shoot him a glare. ‘Perfect, thank you, Phoebe. Now, let me show you how to fold them into the shape of a rose.’
‘A rose?’ Phoebe wrinkles her nose. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. And Nico, you can get the nice wine glasses down. I know you have those – I saw them in a box at the back of the cupboard.’
Phoebe settles down beside me at the table and I show her how to fold the napkins.
‘How did you learn how to do this?’ Phoebe asks, her brow creased in concentration.
‘My gran taught me.’ I run my fingers over the purple unicorns. ‘She’s good at making things special.’
‘My napkin doesn’t look right,’ she grumbles, and I lean over, smoothing out some of her corners.
‘Looks great to me.’ I twist the paper flower this way and that for her to admire.
‘What else does your gran do to make things special?’ Phoebe is interested.
‘Um, she always makes me the best birthday cakes. Even now that I’m a grown up.
’ I pull out my phone and flip through my photographs until I get to this year’s offering, which was shaped like a high-heeled shoe.
‘When I was your age she’d sometimes take me out of school for the afternoon and we’d put on our best dresses and lots of her jewellery and go for tea at the Ritz. ’
‘What’s the Ritz?’ Phoebe asks, intrigued.
‘It’s a fancy hotel in London.’
‘So she taught you how to do this stuff?’ Phoebe gestures at the napkins, at the pitcher that I filled with slender branches of autumn foliage from the garden, the white tea light candles that I unearthed in the back of a cupboard and dropped inside empty jam jars. It looks pretty. Festive.
‘She taught me how to do just about everything,’ I admit.
‘Remember that time she built you a den in your bedroom?’ Nico smiles. ‘It was epic.’
‘What kind of den?’ Phoebe asks.
‘She made it out of all these vintage tablecloths, stitched together like a circus tent,’ I say. ‘It had fairy lights in and silver stars hanging from the roof. I loved it.’
‘I think I need a den like that,’ Phoebe muses.
‘With your dad’s skills you should go full tree house.’
Nico runs a hand over his face as Phoebe visibly brightens.
‘That’s a great plan,’ she says admiringly.
There’s a knock at the door and as Phoebe runs to answer it, Nico turns to me. ‘You think you’re so clever.’
‘Hey, you’re the handy one!’ I laugh. ‘You can singlehandedly build an entire inn, I think you can stretch to a teeny little tree house. You live in the woods!’
‘I already told you, I didn’t build it singlehandedly.’ He reaches up and tugs teasingly on my hair. ‘I’m going to teach you how to use a hammer properly, then you can build Phoebe a tree house. I can already tell you she’ll be a nightmare client.’
‘I would be unstoppable if I could wield a hammer,’ I agree, as Kat and Mei spill inside from the cold in a flurry of chatter, and Taco jumps all over them, delighted.
‘We brought wine!’ Kat holds out a bottle in each hand.
‘Ohhh, look at the table!’ Mei exclaims. ‘This is so pretty!’
‘Are those just branches from outside?’ Kat touches the paper-thin amber leaves. ‘It looks like a Pottery Barn commercial.’
‘I think that’s a compliment on your tablescape,’ Nico murmurs in my ear.
‘I helped fold the napkins,’ Phoebe says proudly, while Mei and Kat make appreciative noises. ‘Lee’s good at making things special, right, Dad? Like her gran.’
‘That’s right, Bee,’ Nico agrees.
‘No Luke?’ I ask, changing the subject.
Kat lifts her shoulder. ‘Mrs Platt called him out to talk about her neighbours’ fence again. She’s convinced it’s a good two inches over the boundary line and she wants them arrested. Poor Luke, he’s going to be there a while.’
I try to picture Mrs Platt and come up with a deceptively sweet-faced old lady.
‘We’ll save him some food,’ Kat says and hunts around for a corkscrew. ‘But let’s order now. I’m borderline hangry.’
‘I can stay up for a bit, can’t I?’ Phoebe turns big eyes on her dad.
‘Only until the food arrives,’ he says firmly and when her expression becomes hopeful he lifts a finger. ‘But you’re not having any! It’s too late and you’ve already eaten.’
‘I’ll save some and hide it in the fridge,’ I whisper, and Phoebe gives me another one of those lightning-fast hugs that make me feel invincible.
Nico pulls out his phone and tries to place his order at the Chinese place while Kat yells, ‘Make sure you get extra dumplings!’ and Phoebe shares her own strong opinions about the correct number of dumplings per person.
Before I can weigh in, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
‘It’s Tara,’ I murmur, surprised, and I glance at Nico who has just finished his own phone call. ‘Isn’t it after midnight back home?’
‘Get it,’ Nico says, but I’ve already answered.
‘Tara? What’s wrong? Are you okay?’
‘I think I did something ridiculous,’ my best friend’s breathless voice reaches me. ‘It seemed like a great idea at the time, but you’re going to think I’m insane.’
I dart Nico a quick look and shrug, no idea what’s going on. ‘Never,’ I say firmly. ‘I will never think that. Whatever it is, we can fix it. Did you murder someone? Because I will fly back right now with a shovel.’
Tara laughs. ‘If I did, I don’t think it would be wise for us to discuss it over the phone.’
I laugh as well, some of the tension leaving me. ‘No. I suppose not. So, what’s going on?’
‘Okay, this is the mad bit.’ Tara sounds nervous. ‘Please don’t freak out, but… the call is coming from inside the house.’
‘What do you—’
There’s a knock at the door.