Chapter Thirty-Six
The fluttery butterfly’s wings were still there when Erin woke up the next morning, and they intensified when a text from Adam appeared on her phone as she made herself breakfast. He was checking if she was in work that morning.
She replied that she wasn’t on shift until after lunch, and watched as the grey speech bubble appeared, followed by a message asking if he could pop over that morning.
She replied, saying he could come at ten-thirty, since that would give her time to shower, wash her hair, and make sure the flat was in a decent state.
She then sent another message, the one she’d drafted with Jack the previous evening.
Despite the fact she’d been watching the clock, the buzz from the intercom still made her jump, and when the knock on the door came, she seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.
‘Hiya. Come in.’ She noted he was wearing one of his smarter tops again, this one was a pale blue knit with buttons all down the front. His stubble was trimmed and shaped and he smelled of lemons and limes.
‘Thanks for letting me come around. I’ve been dying to tell someone about meeting Oliver.’ He paused. ‘Dying to tell you, actually.’
‘It went well, then?’ She turned and headed for the kitchen before he detected the blush creeping up her neck. He said what was on his mind. He wasn’t playing any games, and it made her like him even more.
‘It was amazing.’
‘It’s instant coffee, or tea, I’m afraid. All the good stuff is at the café.’
‘Instant is fine,’ he said. ‘Thanks.’
‘Tell me everything,’ she said, busying herself with making the drinks, glad to have something to occupy her hands. No one had had this effect on her for decades. ‘What was it like seeing him for the first time?’
He let out the air from his lungs. ‘Weird. Good, but really, really strange. Sometimes it’s easy to remember we’re just animals with instincts, do you know what I mean?’
‘Nope.’ She laughed.
‘Like, I felt he was … my young. I know it sounds stupid because I didn’t even know he existed until a few weeks ago, but I recognized him in here.’ He held his hand to his stomach. ‘In my guts. In a visceral way, somehow.’
She understood because that’s how she’d always felt about Jack. ‘Sounds intense.’
‘Yeah, it was, but it was easy too, if that doesn’t sound too weird. He was funny, and he’s got his head screwed on. Thank God for that, imagine if he voted …’ He blew out his lips. ‘No, let’s not go there. It’s all good. His mum’s done a great job, I can’t deny that.’
Erin suspected he said that for her benefit. ‘I hope you told him that.’
‘I did, kind of. I think I did anyway, without sounding patronising, I hope.’ There was more uncertainty in his voice than she’d ever heard. ‘And I tried to make it clear I understood his mum had her reasons for not telling me about him.’
‘How does he feel about that?’
‘He seemed more concerned I would hold it against her. He was keen to defend her, which I totally get. It’s not ideal, is it, not telling someone you’re having their kid?’
She could see how this would be tricky ground for all of them. ‘Not ideal, no.’
‘But I’ve got a choice, haven’t I? I either hold it against her and regret all the things I’ve missed, that we’ve both missed, or I embrace the future and look forward to having a relationship with him from now on.’
‘Very wise, Mr Darling.’ She handed him his mug of tea.
‘Thank you.’ He lifted the mug. ‘I was expecting a quaint little cup.’
‘Nah, no such niceties here. Soz.’ She took him through to the sitting room, wondering what he thought of her small space, then deciding not to give it another thought.
She didn’t need to worry about that. He liked her, that much was clear, and that was also what mattered, because she liked him too. Very much.
‘Right, next thing on the agenda,’ he said, taking a notebook from the bag he’d deposited by the side of the sofa.
‘There’s an agenda?’
‘Yeah, I’ve got my journalist hat on now. You know I said I’d look into the people planning to take over next door?’
Erin’s stomach clenched. She nodded.
‘I started by asking around about the rents in Blackheath. Thanks for sending me a picture of the comparables Galmouth sent, by the way. That was very useful.’ He flicked the pages of the notebook until he came to a list of businesses with figures scribbled next to them.
‘People were reluctant to talk to me at first, but when I told them about how much Galmouth are trying to put your rent up, the colour drained from their faces and they started to open up.’ He pointed at the first line.
‘Let’s start with the florists on Lawn Terrace.
The document you were sent says their annual rent is one hundred and thirty pounds per square foot. ’
‘Is it more than that?’ Fear that her plan was even more unattainable than she thought made her go cold.
‘No.’ He moved his finger to the next line. ‘They pay seventy-five pounds, and their lease has years to run with no review period on the horizon.’ He ran his finger down the page. ‘The story was the same every time.’
The truth started to dawn on Erin. ‘Galmouth lied?’
‘Through their teeth.’
‘Is that legal?’
‘Not one iota.’
‘The absolute shits.’ Heat rushed up Erin’s neck. ‘How dare they try to destroy my business?’ She balled her fists. ‘I’m going to the police. They can’t be allowed to get away with it.’
Adam put a hand on her arm. ‘Hold on. There’s more to this than just the lies about the local rents. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to do a bit more digging into who’s behind Galmouth, and what their connections are.’
‘Okay. Let me know when I can approach Galmouth to address this, though. I’m running out of time.’
‘Will do,’ he said. He closed the notebook and reached inside the bag for an iPad.
‘Next on the agenda – I’ve been looking on Rightmove,’ he said in a rush.
‘For somewhere to buy.’ He tapped on the screen and opened an app, squinting as he scrolled down.
He turned it towards her. ‘What do you think about this place?’
‘Kidbrooke Village?’
‘Yeah. Too new? Is it a bit faceless? I’m useless. I don’t know anything about buying a place.’
‘It’s in a great location, and you’d be able to do loads with it. It would be a plain canvas.’
He scanned the room, and as he did so, Erin checked the message that had pinged onto her phone.
‘I like places like this with period features and all that,’ he said, ‘but I’ve never decorated anywhere before so I thought I’d be better off with somewhere new and uncomplicated. Does that make me a philistine?’
‘Nah, just a bloke.’ She winked so he knew she was joking. ‘I’ve heard a lot of good things about Kidbrooke Village,’ she said, setting her phone down beside her. ‘And I might have a bit of business down there myself.’
‘What?’
She tapped the side of her nose. ‘Do you think you could arrange to see that flat tomorrow afternoon? We could combine the two, if you like?’
His face brightened. ‘You’ll come with me to view it?’
‘If you’d like me to.’
‘I’ll call the agent now.’ He took out his phone, tapped on the screen and held the phone to his ear, and Erin picked up her phone and made plans of her own.
A reply to her message came a minute later, and Erin flushed with excitement.
She was tempted to tell Adam, but she held off, because Jack should be the first to hear what was afoot.
Buttoning her lips tight, she watched Adam bring his iPad back to life.
‘I’ve written my last pages,’ he said. ‘I was too excited to sleep after seeing Oliver, so I decided to get my thoughts down on paper.’
‘Well done,’ she said. ‘I’ve been putting mine off, but I think I’m ready to start now.’ Only when it came out of her mouth did she realize it was true. She could see a future she wanted to commit to paper, and the thought was exhilarating.
‘That’s good.’ He held her gaze. ‘How do you feel about reading mine?’
‘Erm, yes, I’d like to.’
‘Now?’
‘Now?’
‘If you don’t mind. Don’t worry if you’d rather wait until book group.’
‘No, no, now is good.’ She held her hands flat, and he passed her the iPad. She glanced down and saw a document was already open.
‘If it’s okay with you, I’ll go and hang around in the kitchen while you read it,’ he said, picking up his cup and getting to his feet.
‘Doesn’t matter how long you make your living from writing; it’s still excruciating watching someone read your work.
’ He pointed at the screen. ‘It’s not too long, don’t worry. ’
‘Why don’t you make us another cuppa while you’re in there?’ Erin smiled up at him, moved by his nerves and the fact he wanted her to read it despite them. When he left the room, she turned to the screen.
I’ve never put down roots. I told myself I was the kind of plant that could grow in any conditions.
Lift me out of the ground, shake off whatever native soil clings to me, and transport me somewhere new.
I thought I could thrive with a little sunshine, a little food and water, and not much else.
But recently, I’ve learned there is a difference between growing and thriving, a difference between a seed scattered carelessly by the wind, that beds in wherever it lands, and one that has been lovingly sown in fertile ground, and nurtured to grow to its full potential.
If you’ll excuse me labouring the metaphor, I’ve realized I want to be a flower with roots that stretch deep into the earth to support me from the buffeting of the wind. I want to enjoy the sustenance from rich, familiar soil, and get stronger and brighter in my one perfect place in the world.
And I want to be the kind of flower found in a lovingly tended bed, alongside blooms of all different varieties, with bright, vibrant colours and roots which may have started somewhere else but are now planted firmly in the same soil as mine.
I used to think it was what showed above the earth that mattered.
Now I can see I was running away from anything deeper.
That was a mistake, because the best nutrients are found deep in the ground, and I suspect I have been unwittingly hungry for them my whole adult life.
Now, I hope to reach down and eat my fill, with the help of the people who have always been much wiser than me, those who already have firm roots, and continue to blossom in the most beautiful way.
My days of uprooting myself are over. I want a place to call home, a relationship with my son and his new family, friends who have known me for longer than the time it takes me to file copy, and maybe more than that. Who knows?
What I do know, is my last pages are going to be different to the ones before.
Oliver and his partner are having a baby.
A new life is coming into this world, and I want to be part of the rich soil that child grows in.
This marks a new beginning for me, and it feels like the start of something good.
At the risk of sounding soppy, I feel like you and I could be at the start of something good too. I’d like to find out, would you?
Moved and flustered, Erin took a minute to compose herself before calling. ‘Come back, I’ve finished.’
Adam appeared in the doorway. ‘You can see why I didn’t end up writing that novel, can’t you? Ask me to write anything except the facts, and I turn into Mr Purple Prose.’ He performed a flourish with both hands, so out of character they both laughed.
‘I think it’s lovely,’ said Erin, searching her brain for something more accurate to say and failing. Her emotions were too big. ‘Really lovely.’
Adam sat and took the iPad from her hands. ‘Not too much?’
‘Not too much at all.’
‘Good.’ They sat in silence. She became aware of the heat of his body next to hers.
‘That last bit … I won’t be reading that out at book group.
’ He turned to face her, and she thought her heart might leap out of her mouth if she opened it.
Instead, she gazed into his eyes, hoping he could tell how deeply touched she was.
‘That was for you, in case you hadn’t worked it out. ’
She willed her mind to find the right words to express how much she wanted that too. ‘Thank you.’
He glanced away. ‘Okay, well, I …’ He turned the iPad off, clearly getting ready to leave.
Erin’s heart pumped quicker. ‘I’m scared,’ she said. Where had that come from?
‘Scared? Of me?’ Adam moved to the corner of the sofa, further away, but angled towards her.
‘No.’ She tried to swallow, but her throat was tight. ‘Of … of feelings, I suppose.’
‘All of them?’ An amused smile lifted his lips.
‘Most, to be fair.’ She laughed then. ‘I suppose I’m most scared about getting hurt again.’
‘I understand that,’ he said. ‘Would it help if I told you I was scared too? This is the most vulnerable I’ve ever allowed myself to be – first with Oliver, now with you.
What you said about being my authentic self really hit home.
I’ve been avoiding intimacy my whole life, but I’ve decided to make a change. ’
‘To put down roots,’ she said.
‘To bloom alongside other people.’ He arched his brow. ‘In a carefully tended flowerbed.’ He groaned and covered his face. ‘God, that’s awful, isn’t it? They should take back every award for writing I’ve ever been given.’
‘It’s not awful. It’s lovely.’ She prised his hands away from his face. ‘It’s perfect.’ His eyes met hers. ‘And I would really like to be a part of your new beginning, if you’ll be part of mine?’
He gave a tiny nod. ‘I’d like that.’ He took her hands.
‘Let’s be brave together.’ Her thumping heart told her she had the courage, she was strong enough at last to take a chance on whatever this turned out to be. She leaned forwards and felt his warm breath on her face, then the touch of his soft lips on hers.