Chapter 36
ELSA
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt able to flump on to a sofa, but today, returning home, I do exactly that.
‘My darling,’ I say to Bill, nuzzling in beside him, comforted by the softness and familiar scent of his red cardigan. ‘How I missed you.’
Though he doesn’t reply, Bill’s eyes twinkle and I take his hand, curling up beside him. We sit for a moment, Aleks making coffee in the background, and gradually I begin to feel as if I’ve melted into him; the two of us as one.
‘Isn’t the Edinburgh light heavenly,’ I say, when I’ve returned from my trance, the passers-by feeling like old friends.
‘Just as good as the light in Paris,’ says Aleks, bringing us a cup of coffee.
‘For sure it is,’ I agree. ‘Oh, that reminds me, I have a little something for you both.’
I get up to fetch their gifts, then hand Aleks a little brown bag.
‘A beret!’ she laughs, immediately putting it on.
‘It suits you,’ I tell her.
‘Thank you,’ she smiles, keeping it on, looking pleased.
‘And for you, my darling . . .’ I open the box of macarons I bought earlier in the patisserie. Carefully, I break off a small piece of cassis macaron, and place it to Bill’s lips.
Aleks and I watch as he holds the treat in his mouth, his eyes closing momentarily. When he reopens his eyes, they are full of delight. ‘Paris,’ he says slowly, closing his eyes again. Aleks and I grin from ear to ear.
The three of us sit for a while, enjoying our coffee and macarons, until Bill falls asleep, and Aleks and I discuss her new working arrangements.
‘How does an extra four hours a day sound to you?’ I ask, explaining that Marleen has suggested a part-time counselling course in the city that would require approximately the same commitment.
‘It sounds like an answer to my prayer,’ she says, taking off her beret and holding it to her heart.
‘Likewise,’ I say, giving her a little rub on the arm.
‘And you’ll manage the rest of the time?’
‘Carly’s new friend, Flynn, has offered to help with anything I can’t manage outside of your hours. I’m certain it will all work out.’
‘Good, then it’s settled. I’ll start in the morning,’ she says, getting up and putting her beret back on.
‘Super, see you then.’ I follow her to the bottom of the stairs and watch her leave.
After I’ve heard the front door pull shut, I turn to the mirror and wall of photos in front of me. It takes me by surprise how much better I’m looking – less tired, less bedraggled, more in charge of myself.
From my bag, I dig out a photo that a waiter at the café took earlier, which I had printed at King’s Cross.
It shows me in the centre, with Marleen and Frank on either side.
It can hardly be called a picture of youth, definitely more of age, but still, it is a picture of hope, and happiness.
As I pin it to the wall, next to the photo of Bill and me in our twenties in the park in London, I wonder, with great anticipation, how many more photographs there will be, how many more happy memories there are to be made.