Chapter 22
22
I got home from Capri to find that in just one week, Alex had spread himself out from the confines of the granny flat all over my house. There was a young man asleep in my spare room (‘Mum, it’s only Liam from work, you’ve met him loads of times. I’m sure you said it was okay if he stayed for a few days. He’s just broken up with Emily. He’s no trouble, you’ll hardly know he’s there.’) and evidence of several takeaways and pizza deliveries sticking out of my overloaded kitchen bin, and the recycling wheelie bin was almost filled with empty beer bottles and cans. My washing machine was full of their wet laundry, which had been forgotten about for days and smelled mouldy.
There was a cracked window in the kitchen which had been repaired with duct tape, the fridge was almost empty apart from a particularly lurid curry stain up the sides and it looked like someone had spilled red wine over the sofa cushions and made only feeble attempts to clean up.
‘Look, it was an accident. I could pay for the dry cleaning if you like? And it was Liam’s fault the window got cracked, not mine. I told him not to chuck stuff around.’
* * *
Juliette came round for coffee the day after I got home, bringing with her some millionaire’s shortbread for us to taste.
‘So go on then,’ she said as we waited for the kettle to boil, ‘tell me all about it.’
‘We had a great flight out, and we landed on time. And then we took the ferry?—’
Juliette held up a hand. ‘Not that bit. I’m not in the least bit interested in your travel arrangements. I have to say, you’re looking a lot brighter than when you went away. So, my intuition, which Matthew says is my superpower, tells me something is up. And I want to know what happened with Paulo.’
I spooned some coffee into two mugs and smiled rather sentimentally at them.
‘Aha!’ Juliette said, clapping her hands. ‘I knew it. Was the old magic still there? Did you take one look at each other and fall into bed together?’
I gave her a look. ‘Don’t be naughty! Yes to the first bit and no to the second part. He was just as lovely as I remembered him, and yes, I still fancied him something rotten. But it took a bit of time for us to talk properly because there was so much going on. Other people and his family. All the things he had to do in the hotel. There always seemed to be something that he needed to dash off and sort out. We hardly had any time alone together until after the party. And then we talked and talked, and there was so much to catch up on?—’
Juliette held up her hand again.
‘You’re getting off the point again. What I want to know is did you snog him?’
‘Well, yes, I did actually,’ I said, feeling rather proud of myself.
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me, I can see from that soppy look on your face. Are you in love?’
I could feel myself blushing. Being in love was not something I had felt for a long time or expected ever again. It always seemed to be something younger people did. Not people my age.
‘Can I be in love at my age?’ I said.
Juliette scoffed. ‘Why on earth not? What would you call it? Being in really like ? You’ve still got a pulse and so does he. When I met Matthew, it wasn’t like a bolt of lightning. But I was smitten there and then. Even if he was wearing tweed and I was covered in ice cream, but that’s a story for another day. But as we got to know each other, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, and I used to get this most marvellous tingly feeling whenever I thought about him. But we’re getting off the subject again. So what happens now?’
‘The most important thing is he’s selling the hotel. It turns out he never really wanted to spend his whole life running it, but he did because Ellen was so good at it. It’s a glorious place. You should take Matthew there. She did an amazing job; everywhere is so beautiful, the staff are great, the views are astonishing. But then after Ellen died, he finally admitted that he didn’t want to carry on. His son Leo wouldn’t want to take it over; in fact, no one in the family could, and he had to think of the future.’
‘He could give it to me, I’d have a go,’ Juliette said with a chuckle. ‘I mean, I’ve never run a hotel, but I’ve stayed in a lot over the years. And think of all that lovely food and the sunshine.’
‘Yes, if you’re a guest, but I think it’s a very different matter if you are in charge. You wouldn’t get to eat the food very often because you’d be serving it to other people and you probably wouldn’t see much of the sun either.’
Juliette pulled a face. ‘No, probably not. It’s like when people say they want to run a pub, but when they do they get cross because people complain about everything and won’t go home at a decent hour. Is there really no one else in the family to take it over?’
‘His mother is eighty-five and lives near Florence, and his two aunts are in their seventies and have the diplomatic skills of Star Wars stormtroopers.’
‘I like the sound of them. Look, are we going to try this millionaire’s shortbread or not? If it’s okay I’ll make some for the Christmas Fair. Janice Newton from The Laurels wants us to call it an Olde Victorian Christmas Fayre , with a y, which always annoys me. I asked if that meant we needed to reopen the workhouse, have starving waifs in the corner and an outbreak of ye olde typhoid, but she just sat there gaping. Now then.’
She took a knife and sliced into the traybake, which looked very appetising, but then all the caramel underneath the chocolate slid out in a puddle, dripping onto the table. I grabbed a couple of plates and some teaspoons.
‘Hmm, it said condensed milk but I didn’t have any so I just used evaporated instead. I don’t think it’s worked, do you?’
‘The shortbread base is nice,’ I said.
I went to get some kitchen roll and a damp cloth, and the next few minutes were very sticky indeed.
‘Never mind, Matthew will eat it. I’ll say it’s millionaire’s surprise and it’s a pudding. Give Matthew a jug of custard and he’d eat bike tyres. Anyway, back to Paulo. So he’s gone to sell the hotel and you’re back here. How does that work if he’s your trooo lurve ?’
I giggled. ‘One thing at a time. Little steps.’
‘You need to take big steps at your time of life,’ Juliette said, ‘no use messing about. Do you think I could have that cloth? This stuff is sticking my hands to the table. I think I’ve invented a new sort of superglue. Perhaps I should write to the papers.’
‘Firstly, I need to get Alex out of the granny flat. He says he has found a place near his work; he just doesn’t seem in much of a hurry.’
‘You’re too soft on him,’ Juliette said.
‘I know,’ I said, licking some caramel off the back of my hand, ‘but I have a plan.’
‘Oh goody! Tell me all about it.’
* * *
A week later, I organised a family Zoom call, which unbelievably – because my internet was always unpredictable – worked. Bang on two o’clock, Alex logged on from the sitting room in the granny flat and next to his image I could see Kat and Jess sitting in their respective kitchens. I felt a burst of satisfaction and affection for them, all grown up and coping with life. That at least was something to be proud about.
I decided to put my plans into action, or at least put them out there so my children knew what was coming.
‘I’ve decided to make a few changes in my life which might surprise you. And I like to think I’m helping you move on to the next phase,’ I said, staring at my laptop screen with a bright smile, which was supposed to calm their fears. ‘You’re fully formed adults now; all of you are in your thirties. First of all, I want you to know I’m proud of you all, and I love you very much, but I think I am being selfish assuming you are always going to want to come to me for Christmas with your families. Particularly when there are small children involved, you always seem to have to move with a car crammed to the roof with their belongings.’
This was a bit of subtle psychological stuff, gleaned from some magazine article Juliette had read at her hairdressers.
Kat looked puzzled. ‘But we always come to you for Christmas. I don’t even know where half our decorations are.’
‘So do we. I thought it was all arranged? That would mean I’d have to cook a blasted turkey. I haven’t cooked Christmas dinner for – well, ever, actually,’ Jess said.
‘It’s very straightforward, just a matter of preparation and timing,’ I said.
‘Liam says it’s just a roast dinner with knobs on,’ Alex chimed in.
‘How would you know?’ Kat scoffed. ‘Last time I looked, you couldn’t cook a Pot Noodle without assistance. You’re the only person I know with a season ticket to Deliveroo.’
There was then a bit of spirited discussion about this, which looked like it was going to degenerate into an argument, and if I knew them, a long-held grievance about a burnt birthday cake was going to be brought up.
I blew a football whistle – engraved with Best Dad Ever which I had found at the back of the messy drawer in the kitchen, an item which confirmed my belief about such gifts. And the hubbub ceased.
‘But Mum, that would mean you’d be on your own. Well, apart from Alex, and he’s not much help, is he?’ Jess said. ‘It wouldn’t make any sense.’
‘No, actually, that’s the other thing; well, one of the other things. Perhaps I should have started this discussion in a different place. The fact is, I’m going away for Christmas,’ I said.
There was a stunned silence and the three of them looked blankly at me for a moment.
‘You never go away for Christmas,’ Kat said. ‘You’re always at home. That’s what Dad said you both preferred.’
‘It’s what he preferred,’ I said, ‘and while you were younger, yes, that’s what we did. We had our way of doing things. We had lots of silly traditions, didn’t we? But times have changed, and it’s only right that they should. You need to make your own traditions now. I’m probably going back to Capri, or I might go somewhere snowy. Possibly Austria or the Dolomites.’
‘But why?’ Jess asked, looking even more puzzled.
‘Actually, I’ve always wanted to go skiing,’ Alex chimed in. ‘The Dolomites sounds pretty cool.’
‘Well, if Alex is coming with you, then I want to come. Violet has never seen proper snow, she’d love it,’ Jess agreed.
‘And Maud,’ Kat said.
‘No, you don’t need to come with me,’ I said.
‘I don’t understand why on earth you would want to go to Capri again. You’ve only just come back?’ Kat said.
‘Hang on. If you’re going to be away for Christmas, wouldn’t it make sense for me to stay on here for a bit? You know, there are always burglaries. Liam says his dad’s shed was broken into the other day. They took Liam’s skateboard,’ Alex said.
‘And how old is Liam? Twelve?’ Kat scoffed.
‘Thirty-one, same as me,’ Alex shouted back. ‘It’s good exercise, I’ll have you know.’
I blew the whistle again and everyone winced.
‘That’s the other big thing I wanted to talk to you about,’ I said. ‘I want the three of you to reclaim any of your old junk from the attic or the garage. I’m going to be clearing away a lot of the stuff I don’t want any more, and I thought it would be a chance for you to do it too.’
There was another stunned silence and then they all started talking at once.
Kat was first. ‘Honestly, Mum, we don’t know what’s got into you. Why can’t my old schoolbooks stay there? They aren’t costing you anything.’
Jess: ‘Yes, but you don’t mean all my dance trophies, do you? I mean, those are family heirlooms.’
Alex: ‘And you can’t get rid of that mountain bike. I’m definitely going to get it back in one piece. I’ve even been looking at some clips on YouTube. Next year I’m having a real fitness goal.’
Kat scoffed. ‘You’ll be telling us you’re going to do dry January next.’
‘Well, I might do dry February,’ Alex said. ‘I always think of January as a free trial month. Of course, I’m going to move out if you’re absolutely sure that’s what you want? After all, I did apologise about the window and the fridge.’
Yes, it most definitely was what I wanted so I didn’t engage with any of their disputes. After all, the best way to win an argument was not to have one at all. I’d realised I had been doing some ‘no no’ parenting of my own in the last few years, and it didn’t work with them any more than it had with Eric.
I thought back to Ceci, Sylvia and Lucia and smiled. Some people might like squabbling all the time to show their affection, but I wasn’t one of them.
‘I promise you I’m not throwing away any of the things you want to keep, but really I think the time has come for you to sort through it, don’t you? I’m going to hire a skip,’ I said, ‘so you can put any of your things in there if you don’t want them. I’m going to be having a clear out too.’
‘You’re not ill, are you?’ Kat said, leaning forward. ‘I mean, there’s nothing you ought to be telling us?’
‘No, nothing like that,’ I said, ‘although it is good at my age to do a bit of riddling out of the junk, otherwise you’ll have to do it when I fall off the perch.’
‘Are you sure?’ Jess asked, looking concerned. ‘I mean, perhaps you should have a word with someone. You seem a bit odd. All of a sudden. Out of the blue.’
‘I suppose I do,’ I said with a chuckle, ‘but I have thought it through. Alex, you are getting far too settled in the granny flat, and although I am more than happy to help out in an emergency, I don’t think it is good for you to be living with your mother again.’
‘I don’t mind,’ Alex mumbled, ‘and it’s probably good for there to be someone here in case you have another fall,’ he finished triumphantly.
My daughters murmured their grudging agreement at this.
I ignored them again. ‘You have a lovely flat waiting for you in the New Year. I want to clear out all the stuff we don’t need. If nothing else I will be able to put the car in the garage for the first time, not leave it out on the road, and this year I definitely want to go away for Christmas.’
‘Do we need to do this in such a rush?’ Kat said. ‘I mean, one minute you are okay?—’
‘And we just assumed we could come for Christmas,’ Jess added.
‘—and the next minute you’re talking about changing everything and going off abroad. It’s like you’ve suddenly decided to have a gap year, which sounds great fun but who would you go with? You can’t possibly go on your own.’
‘Why not?’ I said. ‘I’ve got all my marbles, I’m perfectly mobile now I’ve had my knee done, and to be honest, a gap year sounds like a great idea.’
Kat gasped. ‘It’s Susie, isn’t it? She’s put you up to this. She’s the one putting ideas in your head. Just because she doesn’t have any family of her own to consider. It’s different for you.’
I was outraged by this. Did they honestly think that my happiness, my interests, were completely reliant on them for the rest of my life?
‘Listen to yourself, Kat. I thought you regarded yourself as a feminist. Women can do anything they want to do, wasn’t that what you and Jess always say to Violet and Maud?’
‘Yes, they can. Just not?—’
She stopped talking then and looked a bit flustered.
‘I hope you weren’t actually going to say not at my age ?’ I asked.
All three of them looked rather uncomfortable at that point.
‘I’m sixty-five,’ I said, ‘not ninety-five. And no, it’s nothing to do with Susie. Look, you might as well know?—’
‘You are ill! I knew it!’ Jess wailed. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get you a second opinion. The best doctors. Have you got health insurance?’
‘I’m not ill, and if you would just listen instead of shouting over each other I will tell you something else you need to know.’
There was silence then and the three faces stared blankly at me from their screens, waiting for me to speak.
‘When I went to Capri it was for the five-year anniversary of Ellen’s death. You all met her; she was one of my oldest friends. Well, Susie and I stayed at the hotel Ellen used to run with her husband, who was also a very old friend from university.’
‘Yes, Mum, we know this,’ Jess said. ‘Paulo someone, you told us.’
‘Well, Paulo and I used to be – we are more than just friends.’
Alex frowned, not really taking this in. ‘You mean he and you…’
‘Yes.’
There was a stunned silence. I suppose it was the same for all children when they realised that their parent might just have had a life of their own before they appeared. Or, heaven forbid, any meaningful relationships.
‘Go on,’ Kat said slowly.
‘Well, we sort of reconnected. There was nothing tacky about it, we just realised we still liked each other.’
‘Liking each other isn’t the same as – you know – getting back together again,’ Jess said, ‘as a couple.’
‘No, I know. But the fact is, we have. Got back together again,’ I said.
‘Does Dad know?’ Alex asked.
‘It’s got nothing to do with him!’ I said rather heatedly. ‘He’s got what’s her name?—’
‘Siobhan,’ Kat put in.
‘He didn’t ask me what I thought about that all those years ago.’
Alex tilted his head to one side thoughtfully.
‘No, I suppose he didn’t. But okay. You’re not hurting anyone, Mum, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have a boyfriend. He’s been on his own for years by the sounds of it, and so have you.’
Jess and Kat gasped at this, and I almost felt like running upstairs to the granny flat to give Alex a hug.
‘Actually, it might be a good thing,’ he continued, ‘for Mum to have a friend to go travelling with’ – it was almost as though I wasn’t part of the discussion any more, like some sort of difficult child – ‘and if he owns a hotel, maybe we could go and stay there sometime?’
‘Honestly, Alex. Can you hear yourself?’ Kat said, exasperated.
‘What?’ Alex said, confused.
‘Never mind about that, we are talking about this man Mum has picked up?’ Jess said.
‘She says he’s a friend, not just some man,’ Alex interrupted.
‘Yes, but we don’t know anything about him. Is he actually going to look after her? It doesn’t seem likely going on what happened last time. Coming back after a week with the remains of a black eye and a sore shoulder,’ Kat added.
‘That was nothing to do with him, it was a genuine accident. His grandson tripped me up, I’ve told you all this,’ I said.
‘So this Paulo is a grandfather? For heaven’s sake, how old is he?’
‘One year older than I am. Which is not that old, I would like to remind you. And Eric is just a little boy who hasn’t been told about his boundaries. And respecting other people’s space. Which reminds me a bit of you three at the moment. The difference being that Eric is only five.’
Kat, as the eldest and bossiest, called for silence.
‘So let’s get this straight. We’re not coming to you for Christmas?’
Jess held up her hand. ‘I suppose you could come to me, if I get some help with the cooking. I might have a state-of-the-art kitchen, but I have no idea how to use half of it.’
Kat was not going to be sidelined. ‘And you are going off with this random man, to Capri or possibly somewhere else, you want to clear our childhood treasures out from the garage, and you want Alex to move into his own place.’
‘That’s partly correct,’ I said. ‘Firstly, I think it would be lovely for you all to be together at Jess’s house. She’s got more room than I do, and a bigger dining room. Secondly, most of the so-called treasures in my garage are actually old stuff you couldn’t decide whether to throw out or not; and thirdly, Paulo’s not a random man. I knew him before I even met your father, and before you ask, he’s a very nice person who meant a great deal to me once. And still does.’
‘Oh,’ Jess said, ‘I see. By the way, you lot, if any of you have any food allergies, you’ll have to sort them out yourselves.’
‘Wow. Mum’s got a boyfriend,’ Alex said. ‘Don’t you think we should meet him? Give him the talk.’
‘What talk?’ I said.
‘About looking after you and being nice to you.’
‘I don’t need anyone looking after me, but if I did, he would be the one I would choose,’ I said.
‘What does he look like? Has he got any other kids?’ Alex asked.
‘Just one son, Leo, who is a successful businessman who lives in Texas. And he and his wife have one son too, who is five.’
‘Cool,’ Alex said, his eyes suddenly unfocused as he probably started thinking about all the possibilities.
‘Yes, but he’s just a friend, isn’t he?’ Kat asked. ‘I mean, at your age, you’re not going to – you know – have?—’
‘Shut up, Kat,’ Jess shouted, putting both hands over her face.
So, my children were fine with me having a friend but nothing else. Amazing, even in this enlightened world where just about anything was okay with the younger generation, the prospect of their mother actually having an intimate relationship with a man was too cringeworthy to contemplate. I sometimes wondered if they thought they had just sprung fully formed from my imagination, or whether the stork or the gooseberry bush actually had some part in their appearance.
‘Have what, Kat?’ I said innocently.
‘You know perfectly well what I mean, Mother,’ Kat said stiffly. ‘It’s not something any of us want to imagine.’
I should hope not, all things considered. And if it hadn’t been for my bruised ribs and sore shoulder, there might have been a great deal more to think about.
‘Imagine all you like, dear,’ I said airily. ‘We are all adults here, aren’t we? Good, so that’s all cleared up then.’
‘So, are we going to meet him?’ Kat asked.
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘Well, if that’s everything?’
‘I think we should be asking a lot more questions,’ Jess said, ‘but I can’t think of any that aren’t embarrassing.’
‘I can,’ Alex said. ‘So have you actually?—’
‘Shut up, Alex,’ his sisters shouted.
We spent a few minutes catching up with each other’s news and then Jess had to go as Violet had a birthday party to attend and Kat was planning to do some ironing, so we signed off, leaving just me and Alex staring at each other.
He hesitated for a moment and then gave me a winning smile.
‘By the way, can I come downstairs and see if you have any milk?’
* * *
‘Excellent news, I couldn’t be more pleased,’ Juliette said the following morning when she called in for coffee, bringing with her some lavishly decorated cupcakes. I had just been sorting out the kitchen drawers and the table was covered in bric a brac and unwanted cooking implements.
‘Sorry about these cakes. I’ve been watching some videos on Facebook to try and learn some icing skills, and the girls make it all look so easy. I wasn’t nearly as successful. The icing is a bit lurid, isn’t it? I think I added too much food colouring. The red ones look like there has been a massacre, and now I look at it properly, that brown one looks like Maurice has done a whoopsie. No one would eat that one.’
We both pulled disgusted faces and Juliette threw it in the bin.
I made some coffee and cleared a space at the table so we could sit down.
‘The skip is arriving tomorrow, and then the kids are coming over at the weekend to start the riddling-out process. Alex thinks he can sell some stuff on eBay rather than just chucking it. Although I don’t think there is much call for old textbooks, two broken vacuum cleaners and a crate of old towels, which Greg always said he was going to use when he washed the car. Which was never.’
‘Wonderful. And there are very good charity shops in the town that take anything useful. And far more interesting, what about your Latin lover? When am I going to meet him?’
‘He’s not exactly that yet,’ I said.
Juliette sighed, her eyes closed. ‘How marvellous. Now that’s something to look forward to.’
‘I think I’ll be a bit self-conscious actually,’ I said. ‘I’m not as sleek as I used to be.’
Juliette laughed. ‘I don’t expect he is either. He’s probably worrying about the same thing. That’s the great thing women of our age have going for them. It’s not about whether you have a perfect figure, it’s about acceptance of each other. Snuggling up. Being kind. Loving the other person for what they are. Knowing if they are feeling insecure and helping.’
‘You’ve got all the answers,’ I said, laughing. ‘It’s difficult to make a new start at our age, isn’t it?’
‘No one can make a brand-new start. But you can make a brand-new ending. You know, the more I look at these cakes the more I dislike them. Have you got any KitKats?’
‘Always,’ I said, going to get the tin, ‘and I’m going to do that thing about a brand-new ending. You’re quite right.’
Juliette nodded and then her face brightened, and she picked up a discarded wooden spoon from the table in front of her and touched me lightly on the shoulder with it.
‘As founder and lifetime president, I hereby invest you into the Old Ducks Club,’ she said. ‘You’re part of a select band. Ageing gracefully is an art; ageing disgracefully is much more fun.’
* * *
‘So you did it? After all this time and all those years, you actually got everything sorted out,’ Susie said, unwinding her scarf.
We were sitting in our favourite wine bar about ten days later and Susie had ordered two glasses of Pinot Grigio as a tribute to our trip to Capri.
She looked bubbly and happy, dressed in a warm woollen dress that only someone as slim as she was could have worn successfully.
‘Well, not quite everything,’ I said. ‘Once the skip gets here?—’
‘I don’t care about the skip!’ Susie said. ‘I’m talking about Paulo. Him and you. That thing. The one that after so long is back on. I mean, it is back on, isn’t it?’
‘It seems that way,’ I said. ‘I’m going back for Christmas, leaving the kids to their own devices.’
‘Good, and how incredibly romantic. And talking of romance, I had a phone call from Raimondo earlier on, and some more flowers. I’m going to have to buy another vase to put them in; they are in a wine cooler at the moment and the others are in a bucket. He’s coming to see me for Christmas. I was going to invite you over, but I’m guessing you’re going to be far too busy.’
I smiled to myself; I was counting off the days until I was due to fly back out to Naples. The more I thought about it, the more excited I became. I had splashed out on some smart clothes too, the sort that ordinarily I would keep for a special occasion. Well, if this wasn’t that, I didn’t know what was. I had taken a lot of the old garments I owned to the charity shops, and some which were too battered and worn to the recycling bin at the supermarket. As I pushed them through the slot, it felt like such a triumph, as though I was ditching the old me, but more than that, I was accepting that there could be a new me. One who actually wore smart things and decent underwear.
I had to admit, it wasn’t easy; it took some time and three trips, because everyone seemed to shop online, and I wanted to go into an actual shop. Perhaps I was unusual? And as I was about to buy some smart black trousers, I remembered what Ceci had said about black being lazy and put them back on the rail.
* * *
A few days later, the skip arrived outside my house and at the weekend everyone arrived to start work. It was surprising how enthusiastically they sorted things out, and yes, they dumped a lot of those precious and irreplaceable items into the skip themselves.
We made quite a party of it actually. And we had a lot of laughs about it all. Remembering their childhoods, their hobbies and little dramas.
At one point the day turned into a version of an American legal drama when the prosecution (me) and defence lawyers (Jess, Kat and Alex) haggled and tried to thrash out some sort of plea bargaining to be allowed to leave certain things in the garage as long as they were prepared for me to change my mind at any future date and insist on the removal of, for example:
A folder of Jess’s art coursework, much of which even she couldn’t explain, and the corner of it had been eaten by mice.
Alex’s first football boots which, despite the fact that Alex had never played meaningfully in a proper football match at any level, he wanted to save for his own as yet unplanned firstborn son.
Two plastic boxes of Kat’s crafting supplies and wool, in the unlikely event that her daughter Maud might one day want to recreate the Bayeux tapestry.
I said yes to all of them; I wasn’t quite as ruthless as I had pretended. We sorted everything out into things that were unsavable, others that could go to the charity shops, and a few that they took home.
But by the time the skip was picked up again at the start of December, I could, for the first time since I had moved into my house, park my car inside the garage. It felt like a triumph.