Chapter 30
ONE YEAR LATER
I’m in my dining room. I’m laying the table for one of my special Sunday lunches. I do them far more these days because once again, people want to have them and I want to cook them too. Nine people around a table built for eight is going to be a bit of a squeeze but I am sure we will manage.
Today it’s the first anniversary of our Interrail trip, the journey that turned out to be so much more than I had ever thought it would be.
Harriet, Anna and Rupert are arriving soon, Marjorie and Evelyn are already in the sitting room having a sherry before dinner, I am in the kitchen swathed in a flour-splattered apron, and it’s almost time to put the Yorkshire puddings into the oven.
Ben and Jenna are upstairs packing to go back to the barn conversion later because they have been staying all weekend.
It’s taken some organising to get them here because Jenna was supposed to be on call at the vet’s practice, but she managed to swap with someone.
She is exactly what Ben needed. A young woman who is organised, practical and a lot of fun.
I don’t think a person who is so kind to animals could be anything else.
So in a way my trip was good for him too.
I look out of the kitchen window hoping to see Anna’s car, but no sign of them yet. Still, it’s a beautiful autumn day; the leaves in my oak tree are just starting to change colour as the days shorten.
I like this season; it’s as though the countryside is settling down for a long winter sleep, ready for the renewal of another year. But before that of course comes Christmas.
I always used to love Christmas and somehow over the years it lost its sparkle, but now my enthusiasm for tinsel, scented candles, coloured ribbons and the biggest tree I can fit into my sitting room has returned because now things are different. I am different.
The timer goes off and I pull the roast beef out of the oven; the scent is divine and takes me back to my childhood. I remember that day all those years ago when my mother was cooking the same meal and I had just seen my friends off on the train. How wretched and envious I felt that day.
Today is very different. I am making a new life for myself on my terms, and I feel rather proud of myself. Sometimes I had doubts, but I stuck to my decisions of last year. I have said yes to things a lot more, but when the need arises I have said no. It’s been an invigorating ride.
I set the roasting pan down on the worktop and lift the beef out, put it on a platter and cover it with foil and all the tea towels I can find.
The back door opens; there is a chilly gust of wind and a few dead leaves blow in.
‘It’s cold out there,’ Jack says, stamping his boots on the mat. ‘I’ve brought some logs in for the wood burner.’
He comes across to kiss me, his cheek cold against mine.
‘Something smells wonderful,’ he says.
‘It’s my new perfume, Eau de Topside,’ I say, and he laughs.
He takes the logs into the sitting room and I hear him chatting with Evelyn and Marjorie and then the pleasant sound of laughter. This house was quiet for so long; now it seems to have come back to life.
I follow Jack in to make sure the ladies are all right, and always at my heels is Buzz, hoping that there may be treats somewhere. The table lamps are casting pools of welcoming light; the room – newly decorated to my taste – is warm and comfortable. At last, it feels like home.
‘How are you both?’ I ask.
Marjorie raises her sherry glass towards me.
‘You know what the Norwegians say, Up and Not Crying, I think that’s a very good response to a lot of things.’
‘So it’s the Caribbean for us next,’ Evelyn says. ‘We will be sailing from Southampton on the seventeenth.’
Yes, she and Marjorie are as spirited as ever. They may travel less than they did, but the year has barely slowed them up at all.
‘And I wanted the Maldives,’ Marjorie said. ‘Perhaps we will go there next time. I quite fancy one of those little villas on poles over the sea.’
I have no doubt they will get there eventually.
I hear a car horn outside and go to open the front door.
Harriet and Anna are there, and Rupert is fetching some flowers and a bottle of champagne from the boot.
We catch up with each other’s news while Rupert goes in to say hello to Jack and chat to Evelyn and Marjorie about the terrible state of the roads and the government, and I finish off the lunch.
‘I’m starving,’ Harriet says. ‘Knowing your famous lunches, I made sure I missed breakfast.’
‘And how are things?’ Anna asks, unwinding her scarf and taking off her coat.
She inclines her head towards the sitting room, her eyes filled with mischief, and I know what she is asking.
‘Excellent, thank you,’ I say, ‘and Jack has found a holiday house on Rab to rent in October. We’ll be there for ten days. I’m so looking forward to going back there.’
Anna gave a beaming smile. ‘I knew it. We knew it, didn’t we, Harriet? From the moment he came to sit down next to you on the train, we knew.’
‘Oh yes, we knew,’ Harriet agrees.
‘Knew what?’ I ask, carefully pouring the batter into the Yorkshire pudding tins.
‘That he would be special.’
‘You can’t possibly have known that.’ I laugh, sliding the tins into the oven.
Anna tries to look wise. ‘Yes, I did. I sometimes think I’m psychic.’
‘Anything we can do to help?’ Harriet asks. ‘No? Nothing? Good. So, is there any sherry that needs finishing up seeing as Rupert is the designated driver today?’
They take their drinks into the sitting room and there is more noise and chatter when they meet up with Evelyn and Marjorie. Jack comes out into the kitchen and pours a sherry for me, and then he comes to stand behind me and he puts his arms around me.
‘A year ago today,’ he says, ‘I was getting on a train to Paris. I was in a bad mood.’
‘We knew by your expression,’ I say. ‘We called you Mr Grumpy.’
‘I’m not grumpy now,’ he says.
‘That’s because you’re looking forward to Sunday lunch. Simple pleasures at our age.’
‘No, not just that. I found that I’m not too old to love you, and you’re not too old to be loved. Isn’t that great?’
I am aware of my little tabby cat sitting hopefully at my feet now, looking up with amber eyes and willing me to give him the first scraps of beef. Which he knows I will.
Jack and I stand there together for a few minutes and I think how very fortunate I am.
It took some time for both of us, but we got there in the end.
It is so true that trust can be destroyed in seconds and takes a long time to repair.
And yet with the right person and a willing heart, it can be easy.
And it is the small details that matter, not the grand gestures.
For the other person to care about someone’s thoughts and worries, both of us putting the other person’s feelings first, not last.
Jack bringing in a full log basket without being asked, me remembering that he doesn’t like walnuts. Him de-icing my car when it’s frosty, me buying him new flavours of ice cream to try.
Both of us knowing that there are very few things worth arguing about. Both of us just wanting to make the other person feel happy and safe and loved.
Of one thing I am sure: wherever I go, the journey of my life is far from over.
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