Chapter Thirty-One
Wednesday, 20 th December
Kim waved as Eli vanished into kindergarten.
‘He didn’t wave back.’ Ben pouted after his brother, and Kim grinned.
‘He doesn’t often, does he? He’s always so excited to get inside and see what they’re going to play next. You’ll be able to do that when you start playgroup soon, won’t you?’
‘And Oskar too! Can we go and feed the ducks now?’
Kim patted her handbag. ‘The bread’s in here. Come on!’ She took his hand and he skipped along beside her, his cheeks pink. This time he was the one who pointed out the playgroup hall as they passed, and Kim agreed with every word, hugging herself. The email had come yesterday morning; Ben and Oskar had two hours of playgroup on Tuesday mornings and two on Thursday afternoons. She’d got straight on the phone to Oskar’s mum, and made the arrangements. Marianne would do all the childcare for Ben and Eli on Thursdays, and on Tuesdays, Oskar and his sister would come home to them. It was exactly what Kim had wanted, a full day to herself every week. She’d sent out emails to her customers straightaway, and she had three bookings for January already. Tobias was still hesitant, but he seemed to have recognised that they couldn’t go on as they had been. She would make this work.
Down on the lake path, Ben skipped along to the stone steps people used in summer to go in for a swim. The water here was deeper than it was at the beach, and it was a favourite spot of Ben’s for feeding the ducks. Two swans and a flock of gulls came along today too, and Kim kept a tight hold of Ben’s hood. Swans could be aggressive; she didn’t want Ben to be startled and fall in.
Bread gone, they strolled further along, and here was the fateful beach where Eli had almost drowned. Ben ran across the stones, looking for ‘treasure’ as usual, and Kim followed more slowly. ‘What might have been’ tended to loom here, but that wasn’t the beach’s fault. She had to deal with it, because the boys loved coming here in summer and going for a paddle.
Footsteps crunched behind her, and she looked round. It was Rico, well wrapped up in a down jacket and woolly hat, both hands deep in his pockets. Ben rushed up to show off his finds: a grey stone with a white stripe, and a very dirty seagull feather.
Rico pointed out a better feather back the way he’d come, and Ben raced off.
‘He’ll want to keep them both,’ said Kim, pulling a face. ‘Quantity’s an easier concept than quality when you’re three. How’s Lakeside?’
He grimaced. ‘Empty. Stacy left for England this morning, and we only have two workmen in today, finishing the tiles.’
He didn’t sound too happy about it; in fact, she’d never seen him this glum. Should she ask him what was wrong? But Ben was back with the other feather before she could open her mouth.
‘Mama, look how white it is! I want to wash the other one.’ He wheeled round and set off for the water, and Kim inhaled sharply through her teeth.
Rico was on it, though. ‘Hey, Ben, I’ll give you a hand, shall I? I used to collect feathers too.’
He stuffed his gloves into his pocket and crouched beside Ben at the water’s edge. Ben swished the feather around, then Rico gave it a rub.
‘Sorted. Well done, kid.’ He grinned up at Kim, then led Ben back from the water’s edge. ‘You okay, Kim?’
She shook herself. ‘Ghosts from last summer. I need to get rid of them.’ She glanced at the stone slab where Stacy had performed CPR on Eli, and shivered.
Rico was looking at it too. ‘We all have ghosts. Stacy and I were saying that just yesterday. But we need to get rid of the bad ones.’
Was that why he’d been looking so down? Kim nodded slowly. ‘You’re right, and we are getting rid of ours, Tobias and me, but it takes time. Rico, is there – I mean, are you and Stacy…’
He was shaking his head. ‘We’re friends. And co-workers.’
And judging by his eyes, he wanted to be a whole lot more. Kim’s heart ached for him, but there wasn’t a lot she could do with Stacy in England. Maybe in January she could give the pair of them a good shove together. These two were made for each other.
***
Manchester Airport was mobbed, but that was nothing new. Stacy followed the crowd, pulling her suitcase and inhaling the special aroma of being back in the UK. And thank goodness she was, or rather, thank goodness she had a break from Lakeside. Last night’s conversation with Rico had been torturous, but it had brought results. At long last she was facing up to the fact that she was still letting David and his treatment of her colour her life, and that couldn’t go on. A long talk with Emily was high on the priority list for the next day or two. Tomorrow, if possible.
She emerged into the arrivals hall and slowed down. The welcoming committee would be here somewhere.
‘Hello, sweetheart! Oh, Stacy, it’s so good to have you home again!’
Stacy let go of her suitcase and hugged her mother tightly. Mum’s flowery perfume was the same as ever – the scent of home, and it warmed you all the way through.
Her father rubbed her shoulder and cleared his throat. ‘Welcome home, love. Come on, you two. Let’s get out of this rabble.’
Janie Townsend scrubbed a wet face, and took Stacy’s arm. ‘I can’t wait to hear all your news. Your old room’s waiting for you, and Gareth and Jo are coming for dinner.’
Now she really was back home. Stacy gazed around hungrily as the car left the airport. Even on a dark and wet December evening, she could tell she was no longer in Switzerland. They were driving on the other side, for one thing, and all the cars had UK number plates. Everything was in English, too – she’d have no worries about understanding things here.
Half an hour later, they pulled up in front of Pen ’n’ Paper. Home… or it had been, for most of her life. Mum led the way in through the front shop, and Stacy took a deep breath. It was odd, she’d never realised how much a smell had to do with how you were feeling.
Janie clicked the lights on. ‘Have a quick peek at what we’ve done here. Gareth and Jo have more or less taken over, which suits your dad and me just fine. I told you Jo’s working here full time now, didn’t I? She’s a breath of fresh air, exactly what the place needed.’
Stacy walked round the room, impressed. The front shop had undergone a complete transformation. It was like a cross between a stationer’s and some kind of paper workshop now, and the result was cheerful, chaotic, and welcoming.
‘We have courses of some kind nearly every day,’ said Janie. ‘It’s such a relief the place is in profit again, Stacy.’
John Townsend hefted Stacy’s case upstairs, and she followed him into her old room and sank down on the bed. Heavens, this was like being transported back through the years to her younger self, about to leave home to start her nursing training. The same posters on the walls, her books on the shelf and her teenage knick-knacks still on the chest of drawers, all lovingly dusted and replaced. Stacy stood in the middle of the floor, not knowing whether to be amused or not. In a way it was creepy. Did Mum and Dad think she’d be coming back home for good some day?
‘You should redecorate in here, turn it into a proper guest room,’ she said gently, opening her case while her mother fussed around with towels.
‘I know, I know. We will. But I’m glad it’s waiting for you today, anyway.’
Stacy hugged the older woman. ‘Me too.’ And hopefully that wouldn’t encourage Mum to leave the room stuck in a time freeze for another six years.
She sat at the table that evening, listening as Jo told her all about the shop, and smiling at the way Gareth hovered protectively every time his wife stood up. They were expecting a baby in the summer – she was going to be an auntie. Stacy ate her roast beef, revelling in the feeling of home and family, laughing at her dad’s corny comments and the way he and Gareth still tried to out-joke each other. Some things would never change.
They were having coffee in the living room when her mobile buzzed. It was a message from Rico.
Hope your journey was good. Am packing for Lugano now. Have fun!
This was his way of making sure they were all right after yesterday. Stacy tapped:
Very British roast for tea. British weather too – rain. Have a safe trip!
and pressed send.
‘Rico’s off to Lugano for Christmas,’ she said. ‘His dad has a lovely flat there.’
‘Has he fully recovered?’ Janie reached for Stacy’s cup to pour more coffee.
‘More or less. He’ll be back working as hard as he can after the holiday, anyway, so I hope he rests up while he has the chance.’ Soberly, she thought of the other man who’d been injured in the explosion. He was still in hospital, and would be for some time.
‘I’m sure he’ll make a success of restarting the hotel, with you to help him,’ said Janie. ‘Your dad and I are planning a visit next summer. We can help you bring all your things back home.’
‘Lovely. I can’t wait to show you everything.’
Stacy managed a smile, but it wasn’t a happy one. The thought of Mum and Dad arriving at Lakeside to bring her home was enough to spark off a major claustrophobia alert. Oh, well, she had time enough to worry about that before summer. They had to get the hotel opened first. Meantime, she had an English Christmas – with a proper Santa in every store – to look forward to.
***
It was six o’clock on Friday evening, and after a day spent with Mum and Dad yesterday, Stacy was ready for the bright lights of the city. And Emily was brimming with ideas about how to get David out of her system.
She slid onto a bench seat in the corner of the Manchester pub she and Emily had just entered. ‘I’m still not sure this is a good idea.’
Her friend took a chair, then slid it round the table to get a good view of the door.
‘Nonsense. It’s the only way. You said yourself you’d need to see David again, and bumping into him coincidentally is way better than turning up at his flat, or phoning him. Even if the coincidence is a little, ah, stretched.’
Stacy settled into her seat. Seeing David face to face would be better, and with the holiday weekend coming up, today was her last chance before Christmas. He was working in the hospital she’d been staff nurse in, and she knew that this was a favourite after-shift hangout with all the medical staff. Whether right now was after-shift for David was another thing, but there was a chance she could get this over and done with today. If it didn’t work, they’d go with plan B next week, though calling him to demand the handful of things she’d left there last summer was even more of a stretch. He’d probably chucked them out months ago.
Emily went up to the bar and came back with two glasses of cider and a packet of crisps, which Stacy opened immediately.
‘Yum. I’ve missed these. You don’t get smoky bacon in Switzerland.’
‘Sunny England, the home of exotic crisps and – look! These could be hospital people.’
Stacy squinted at the door, where a mixed group was coming in, laughing and rubbing their hands. It was freezing outside and yes, she recognised two women there as medical staff, but David wasn’t in the group. Her stomach churned.
‘Suppose he does appear in a group like that. I don’t know if I’d have the guts to breeze over and chat.’ Stacy sipped her drink, but you didn’t get much Dutch courage from cider, did you?
‘Big girl pants, Stace. You look snooty, say a couple of sentences and see how he reacts.’
‘Yeah, you said. It’s the couple of sentences bit that’s worrying me. What if–’
Another group, a smaller one this time, barged in, and Stacy retreated into her glass again. Why she’d ever agreed to coming here was anyone’s guess. Emily was one of those people who could sweep you along with an idea.
‘Third time lucky,’ said Emily, her eyes glued to the door.
Stacy gave up. The chances of David coming in here were miniscule, so she would stop worrying about it and–
‘It’s him! Look – he must have come in the side door.’ Emily slid her chair further round the table and nudged Stacy.
Oh my God. It was David, snaking through the crowd at the bar, heading for a group in the other corner. He hadn’t changed a bit. Still the same dark good looks, his hair still brushing his collar, the same scarf he’d worn last winter looped casually over his left shoulder. And what did you know? Stacy sat back and breathed out slowly between pursed lips. Her heart rate was behaving in exactly the same way it would if someone she’d lost touch with a long time ago had come in. Well, not quite the same way because she was bloody angry about how he had treated her and that still stung, but there was no, ‘this was my guy’ feeling when she saw him now. It was more of a ‘what an idiot I’ve been to let this guy affect me like this’ sensation.
Stacy was about to suggest that they drank up, moseyed past to let her say a couple of hopefully cutting words to David, and left, when a girl came up behind him and slid an arm around his waist. He kissed the top of her head, then pulled her close, cuddling her as he stood talking to the group. The girl was gazing up at him. Besotted would be a good word to describe her expression.
Stacy hissed at Emily. ‘That’s not Lucy!’
‘No? Are you sure?’
‘Positive. Unless she’s had a leg transplant as well as dyeing natural blonde hair mousey-brown.’
‘So he moved from you to Lucy, then from Lucy to whoever. Plus anyone we might not know about, in between. You’re well out of that, Stace. Looks as if he’s a serial dater now, doesn’t it?’
‘I guess he’s reliving his teenage years when most guys do have new girlfriends every so often. But we’re adults now, and I’ve seen enough. Let’s give him an earful and go.’
She grabbed her things and marched across the pub. David saw her when she was on the way, and an uncertain grin flashed over his face.
‘Hi, Stace. Emily.’
‘Hi, David.’ Stacy was poised to inquire about Lucy, but then she caught sight of David’s new girlfriend’s happy face. Hell – if she said anything cutting to David, it would be this girl who felt it most. She wasn’t going to bring him down a peg by making another woman uncomfortable.
‘Sorry we can’t stop. I’m sure I’d have a lot to catch up on.’ She swept past, pulling Emily with her, and they landed outside in a dark and foggy night. And if David didn’t get it that she meant she’d have a lot of girlfriends to catch up on, too bad.
‘I thought you wanted to give him an earful?’ Emily zipped her coat up to her chin.
‘Don’t need to. He’s history. Why don’t we go back to yours and drink fizz and talk to Alan, if he’s home? I want to remember what a nice guy sounds like.’
And this was good; their outing had served its purpose. In spite of being muffled up in her heavy coat with boots, hat and scarf, Stacy’s steps were lighter as they walked to the station. David was part of her past, and it was a part she was definitely ready to let go.