Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
O n Friday morning, I see to some admin essentials before leaving to visit Aunt Lottie. This includes writing my letter of resignation from my job, which turns out to be one of the most therapeutic things I’ve ever done. It takes multiple versions and a lot of censoring, but the final piece is clean and professional. Then, spurred on by the combination of having my boss’s balls in a vice grip (metaphorically speaking, of course) and a deep reluctance to set foot in that office ever again, I decide to chance my luck and follow up with a call to Lisa in HR.
I explain that my resignation letter is on its way, and that there are personal circumstances (I don’t elaborate) that make it impossible for me to work my notice. I also ask her to speak to Karla on my behalf and let me know if there’s a problem. Lisa’s a bit taken aback, but fortunately agrees. I know I could be sued for breach of contract, however, I’ve hedged my bets on Karla not wanting anyone looking into what particular ‘personal circumstances’ have led to my sudden and mysterious departure.
It pays off. An hour later Lisa calls me back to say that Karla is dreadfully sorry to hear that things have become so difficult for me, she certainly doesn’t want to make an already challenging situation worse, and she wishes me all the very best in my future endeavours.
Yeah, right.
Before I say my final goodbye to Lisa, I can’t help asking if they’ll be replacing me straight away.
‘It seems so,’ says Lisa. ‘Karla’s requested that I get straight on the phone to the agencies to find some exceptional candidates who are immediately available.’
Just as I’m thinking there’s no such thing as karma after all, Lisa restores my faith.
‘I might have to bump that request to the bottom of my “to do” list for a week or two,’ she says, with the slightest air of conspiracy. ‘I’m busy with other priorities right now. Good luck with whatever you move onto, Emma. It’s a shame we had to lose someone as good as you.’
Shortly after midday, I arrive at Aunt Lottie’s cottage in Ratho and crunch my way up the gravel path, an explosion of beautiful spring flowers either side. Before I can ring the bell, the sage-green door opens and her slight frame comes into view.
‘ Hi. ’ I sweep her into a comforting and extended embrace. ‘Oh, it’s so good to see you.’
‘And it’s lovely to see you smiling.’ She pats me on the back.
Leaning on her walking stick, Aunt Lottie leads me through the hallway into her pristine but dated living room. She bends awkwardly while settling into her embroidered armchair, a clear sign that her arthritis is playing up, but she waves me away when I rush forward to help her.
‘I’m fine. Just stiff. But if I don’t use it, I’ll lose it, as they say.’
Reluctantly accepting this, I retreat to the matching sofa, kick off my shoes and make myself comfortable.
‘Your flowers in the garden are beautiful,’ I say. ‘Gorgeous colours.’
‘Thank you, my love. I planted them a few weeks ago. Thankfully, there’s been no late frost and they’ve been able to bloom nicely. Tell me, what’s been happening with you? That must be more exciting than talking about an old woman’s flowerbeds.’
‘Not at all.’ I vehemently shake my head. ‘Your flowers are high on my list of favourite things. After you, obviously.’
‘How very Sound of Music .’ Aunt Lottie chuckles. ‘So, are you going to tell me if this big win of yours has been confirmed, or do we have to critique the vegetable patch first?’
I giggle. ‘How about I make us a cuppa, and I’ll tell you all about it?’
‘Now that I won’t say no to.’ She smiles gratefully, while I head for the kitchen to put the kettle on.
Once we’re settled again, with tea in hand and a plateful of pre-lunch biscuits my mother would never approve of, I bring Aunt Lottie up to date with the events of the last few days. This includes the news that I’ve quit my job, though I give her the PG adaptation rather than the post-watershed version.
‘So, that’s it,’ I finish recounting my tale. ‘The money is in my bank account, and I’ve got a chance at a brand-new start.’
‘Dear girl, this is just wonderful news.’ She looks quite emotional. ‘I couldn’t be happier for you, especially when you’ve been having such a difficult time with that supervisor of yours. It’s a relief to know that you can now get out of that situation and find a better job. And well done for standing up for yourself. I know you’ve found that difficult in the past. This really is a whole new beginning for you.’
‘I know. Isn’t it amazing?’
‘It is,’ she says. ‘Just one thing bothers me, though. You know I’d never tell you what to do, and I wouldn’t be best placed to advise you, but I feel that such a great sum of money will need careful handling. Have you thought about how you’ll manage it?’
‘Don’t worry,’ I reassure her. ‘I’ve already had an initial meeting with a financial adviser who’s given me some advice and options to think about.’
‘That’s good. You’re a sensible girl. Golly, I feel like we should be drinking Champagne, not tea.’
‘We can still have a celebratory toast.’ I hop off the sofa and gently clink her gold rimmed china teacup with my own, before returning to my seat. ‘So, there’s something related to my win that I want to share with you.’
‘What’s that, dear?’
‘Well, I really want to do something for you, you know, to thank you for the friendship and support you’ve offered me over the years.’
‘Oh, Emma, that’s simply not necessary. You’ve given as much in return.’ Her eyes mist over, leaving me in no doubt of the still-painful memories that have been invoked within her.
I’m not immediately concerned by this, but I trot across and sit on the floor by her armchair nonetheless. Aunt Lottie has spoken openly to me about her loss and has always been adamant that it’s an important part of keeping the fond memories alive. The bad ones being nothing more than an unfortunate by-product.
‘I know that.’ I squeeze her hand. ‘But it’s something I really want to do.’
‘Let’s hear it then.’
‘OK, you know how we’ve talked about Caroline and Sophie many times over the years?’
‘Yes?’ Her elderly face is a mix of nostalgic grief and curiosity.
‘Well… it makes me feel like I almost know them. If that makes any sense at all?’
‘It does.’ She nods slowly.
‘So, anyway, what I was thinking, is that I’d like to make some charitable donations in their memory. Twenty-thousand pounds to be split between two charities of your choice.’
Aunt Lottie sits quietly for a few moments, staring ahead, while I wait patiently. This is something she needs to digest. Eventually, she turns in her seat and looks down at me.
‘Emma, I think that is one of the kindest and most thoughtful gestures anyone could make. And though my instincts are telling me you should keep your money, I appreciate that you feel the need to do this.’
‘I do. I really do.’ I shift onto my knees. ‘I want to do some good with my win and I know you’d never take any money from me—’
‘You’re certainly right there.’ The schoolmistress look comes again. ‘I have everything I need. Even a cat …’ She eyes me with pretend disapproval.
‘You love George.’
‘Yes, I believe I do. Six months ago, I’d have been chasing unwelcome feline visitors from my flowerbeds. Now, I have a walking, furry hot water bottle as my second-best friend.’
‘You’re welcome.’ I give her a toothy grin.
‘Being serious for a moment.’ Aunt Lottie’s face clears. ‘I can’t think of anything that would mean more to me. And I know Caroline and Sophie would feel the same.’
‘Good. That’s sorted then.’ I get up and give her a hug. ‘You OK?’
‘Of course, my love.’ She smiles, and I can see just how touched – and slightly overwhelmed – she is. ‘Now, let’s get the lunch on.’
A short time later, we’re sitting in Aunt Lottie’s dining room, surrounded by display cabinets crammed with photographs and ornaments, enjoying her homemade lentil soup and making our way through a pile of triangular sandwiches. Outside in the back garden, the birds are tweeting their merry spring tune.
‘Emma, I’ve been thinking about your win and your kind gesture,’ she says. ‘And I’d like to ask something of you.’
‘I’m not reducing the amount.’
‘That wasn’t what I was about to say. I know better than to ask that.’
‘Sorry, carry on.’ I sit back in my seat.
She puts down her spoon and clasps her hands. ‘I have few regrets in life, but there’s one thing that does bother me.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I spent a lot of my younger years worrying and not getting as much from life as I should have. And when Sophie and Caroline died, I believed that I didn’t deserve any enjoyment at all.’ She pauses briefly and I allow her this space. ‘I’d lost my daughter and my granddaughter in a short space of time. Then, through my grief, I drove my husband away and distanced myself from the people who cared about me. It felt like a life sentence – until you came along, with your unrelenting determination that I was to be your friend. I’ll never forget the day I found you sitting in the shed at the bottom of my garden reading your book. You were so like Sophie. You spooked me at first.’
‘I can imagine I did,’ I say. ‘Eight-year-old me, using your garden to hide from my overbearing parents, with no clue as to what you’d endured in your life. I used that hole in the hedge like I was part of The Great Escape .’
‘You’ve always had such an imagination.’ Aunt Lottie smiles at me affectionately. ‘You were the catalyst to me living some sort of life again, and now that I’m the age I am, I’ve realised that I shouldn’t have shut myself away. That neither Caroline nor Sophie would have wanted that.’
‘So, what do you want me to do?’ I’m unclear where this is going. ‘Anything, just ask.’
‘My ask of you is simple. Use some of your win to enjoy yourself. Life is precious, Emma, and it’s short. Believe me. You young people spend so much time with your noses in your phones, I worry that you’ll find yourself at my age wishing you’d looked up and made more of your time on this earth. I also know that you take the weight of the world on your shoulders, Emma. I want you to have memories of carefree fun and laughter to look back on. I’m not suggesting you fritter your money away – far from it – but a touch of self-focus is no sin. Will you do that for me?’
‘Erm… sure.’ I shrug my shoulders. ‘If that’s what you want. It would be even better if you would join me.’
‘Dear girl, no.’ Aunt Lottie lifts her hands in protest. ‘I’ll only hold you back. I’m too old and slow, and my stamina’s nothing like it used to be. But you can tell me all about it. Bring your stories back to me and we can laugh and have fun together.’
‘OK...’ I say, not totally convinced by her reasoning for not joining in. ‘One condition, though. I want to know what you would have done if it were you.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Give me a second to think.’ She rubs her forehead, while I bring up the notepad app on my phone, ready to start to tapping away. ‘There’s nothing concrete that springs to mind, but maybe I’d do something relaxing. Something fun. Perhaps something indulgent. Even something practical if it gave me an experience I could look back on and laugh. Or smile. And definitely something outlandish.’
I scan the words in front of me. ‘Think I can manage that. I’ll come up with a plan this evening. Gives me something to do.’
‘That’s settled then.’ Aunt Lottie nods, a rare satisfied look on her face. ‘Actually, I do have one more request...’
‘Name it.’
‘Perhaps you could just call me Lottie. You’re a grown woman now, and as much as I’ve enjoyed being your adopted aunt, I think we can address each other as friends do.’
‘Not a problem,’ I say.
‘Good. Now eat your soup.’