The Way We Are Now

Prologue

‘Noah? That you, sweetheart?’ The question, floating down the cream-carpeted stairs from somewhere above, is followed almost immediately by the disembodied voice offering up the instructions: ‘Just give me two minutes! Can’t wait to give you a big hug…

’ but trailing off when interrupted by the insistent tones of a mobile phone.

Noah Wrathmell smiles to himself. His mother is always just finishing something, in the middle of something or must just answer this.

He puts down his bags and heads for the kitchen and the huge American fridge, suddenly ravenously hungry, realising he’s not eaten for what seems a lifetime.

Six weeks of being in love, enough to put him off his food, is a lifetime in a not-quite-twenty-two-year-old’s eyes.

And, from the very second he’d set eyes on her as he walked back to his room in Balliol College, eating has not been at the forefront of any agenda. God, she was gorgeous…

‘Darling, come and give your old mum a kiss.’ Anna Piasecki is at his side, hugging the very breath out of him.

‘Let me look at you.’ She holds him at arm’s length as his own extends to a wedge of cheddar in the depths of the fridge.

‘I like the beard. Very distinguished. You look tired. Too much studying?’ She laughs. ‘Or too much enjoying yourself?’

‘Hello, Mum.’ Noah hugs Anna back in turn, realising how much he’s missed her.

Anna smiles. ‘Granny’s here, you know. Here for Christmas.’

‘Already? It’s a good two weeks off yet.’ Noah steps back from Anna’s embrace, reaching for a knife before hacking off a huge chunk from the cheese. ‘How on earth did you persuade her down from the depths of the frozen north?’

‘Not sure Rothersley constitutes the frozen north.’ Anna opens the breadbin. ‘Have some sourdough with that.’ She hands over a loaf, its deeply caramelised brown crust enough to make Noah’s mouth instantly salivate.

‘You made this?’

‘Noah, since when have I ever made bread?’ Anna gives a shake of her dark head and Noah, not for the first time, concedes his mum, now sixty-two, is still one hell of an attractive woman.

‘Listen, your granny is more than happy to be here with us. Your Uncle David’s had meetings back up in Yorkshire this week, so it was no problem for him to bring Granny back down here with him, even if it is a bit early.

If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have put it past her to have jumped in her car and driven down the motorway herself.

’ Anna shakes her head at the very thought.

‘At ninety-two?’ Noah glances at his mother.

‘Since when has your gran ever accepted she can’t do something?’ Anna grins.

‘Same time as you’ve ever made bread?’ Noah actually laughs at that, his mouth full. ‘Has she still got that old Mini of hers then? Is she allowed to drive it?’

‘Allowed?’ A snort of derision behind them makes Anna and Noah turn as one.

‘Don’t you ever let anyone tell you that you can’t do something when you know you’re more than capable.

’ Maggy Piasecki places her walking stick on the huge kitchen island before folding her arms and giving the pair one of her looks.

Then her face softens as she moves towards Noah.

‘How you doing, lad? Taking up everything Oxford has to offer?’

‘Of course.’ Noah embraces the old woman. ‘Still up and running, I see?’

‘I’m not going anywhere just yet.’ Maggy pulls a face at her grandson. ‘World’s in a bloody mess; needs sorting. I’m actually glad your grandfather’s not here to see what’s happening in his part of the world.’

‘If he was, he’d be…’ Noah stops to calculate ‘…over a hundred?’

‘Born 1923. He was exactly ten years older than me. Didn’t stop me falling in love with him the minute I heard him playing that piano in the Miners’ Welfare Club.’

‘Only person in the family apart from you who could play anything. Or sing a note.’ Anna laughs, hugging Noah once more, unable to keep her hands from him. ‘You, my darling, have inherited every musical gene he brought with him from Warsaw.’

‘So, he was about my age when he left Poland then? During the war?’ Still hungry, Noah roots in a cupboard for the biscuits always kept there.

‘No, younger,’ Maggy says, shaking her head, but, as always, ready to talk about her beloved Josef. ‘Joe was only seventeen when he joined up with the Allies after the Polish army had been overwhelmed by the Nazis and the Soviets and, like so many others, eventually found himself here in England.’

‘Blimey,’ Noah says, pulling a face. ‘S’pose I should know more about my Polish ancestry. Must have been pretty strange having to leave everything you know before ending up in a totally foreign country. And Rothersley of all places.’

‘Hey, there’s nowt wrong wi’ Rothersley, Noah.

’ Maggy gives him another of her looks. ‘Now there’s your heritage, lad, your ancestry if you want to do some digging into your family tree.

My side of the family’s never moved from Rothersley.

Coal dust under their fingernails and ingrained in their skin going back centuries. ’

‘Right, OK.’ Noah gives his grandmother an apologetic glance before pulling a beseeching face in Anna’s direction. ‘I could do with a shower…’

‘Rothersley Main Colliery goes back as far as 1824, you know, Noah,’ Maggy is now saying proudly.

‘Right,’ Noah says again, heading for the door as he feels the vibration of a text coming through on his phone in his jeans back pocket.

‘You talk to your Uncle David about it all,’ Maggy calls after him as Noah finally escapes the kitchen, Anna winking and giving him a little encouraging push in the right direction. ‘He’s written more than one book on the history of coalmining, you know.’

‘I know, I will!’ Noah replies over his shoulder, his pulse racing, his heartbeat loud as he reads the text from Immi.

‘He’s a grand-looking lad,’ Maggy finally says as she sits back with a whump of relief into the sofa underneath the huge windows overlooking the South London garden.

‘He’s my life.’ Anna smiles, reaching for the fresh pot of tea and mugs.

‘Oh, don’t give me that, Anna.’ Maggy’s voice is full of derision.

‘With all that’s going on in your life at the moment?

Elected MP for Rothersley only eight years ago?

Then a member of the cabinet and now promotion to Secretary of State for Justice, for heaven’s sake?

’ She pats her daughter’s hand as Anna passes a mug in her direction.

‘Your dad would have been so proud of you, lass. What an achievement!’ Her face softens.

‘And, yes, you’ve a good one there in Noah.

He reminds me a lot of your dad, Anna. Same good looks.

Won’t be long before he’s breaking a few hearts.

’ She sniffs, her hand shaking slightly as she takes a first sip of tea.

‘Let’s just hope he has better luck with the opposite sex than you ever did. ’

North Yorkshire, December 2025

‘Has he been in touch? Has he phoned?’ Bella Mancini’s voice on the phone is eager, encouraging, but, Immi wonders, is there an undertone of slight disapproval in her friend’s questioning? Or envy maybe? No one wants their best mate’s love life to be better than their own.

‘He texted me as soon as I was on the train home,’ Immi says. ‘And I got straight back to him.’

‘Mistake! Big mistake!’ Bella almost crows her response. ‘You should have let him stew a bit. Let him think you’ve things on your mind other than him…’

‘But I haven’t,’ Immi interrupts, laughing. ‘I can’t be doing with playing games. We’re not teenagers any more.’

‘You don’t have to be fifteen to play games.’ Bella tuts. ‘So, go on then. What did he say?’

‘Oh, the usual.’

‘The usual?’

‘You know!’

‘No, I don’t.’ It’s Bella’s turn to laugh.

‘But I can see you’re not going to tell all.

God, Immi, I’m so glad to be home. To have a decent night’s sleep.

That last assignment for Professor Black had me working until two in the morning all last week.

I was on the point of offering him my body in return for a pass mark.

And that mattress of mine needs putting on a bonfire… ’

‘Bella, I’m going to have to go,’ Immi cuts in. ‘Daddy’s calling me.’

‘Oh, OK.’

‘You all right?’ Immi asks, hearing a slight despondency in Bella’s voice. ‘I thought you were glad to be home for Christmas?’

‘Glad to be in a bed that’s not intent on mugging me every night…’ She trails off and Immi laughs but stops herself from stating the obvious – Bella is rarely in her own bed while in college.

‘Got to go, Bella, Dad’s just got home,’ Immi says, hearing her father call once more.

‘Hello, my darling girl. I have missed you.’ Theodore Mandeville wraps his arms around Immi, his still dark blond head bending to meet her own. ‘Good term? You didn’t think about coming home to see us before now?’

‘Well, I did,’ Immi apologises, ‘but you know…’ She breaks off.

‘I do.’ Theo laughs, simply glad to have her home now. ‘The last thing I wanted was to be back here at home with my parents when I was at uni.’

‘Well, you were a lot nearer, at Leeds University. Strange, isn’t it, really,’ Immi muses, ‘that apart from living in Leeds when you were studying, you’ve never lived anywhere but here. Born here…’

‘Excuse me, I did live in New Zealand for several years,’ Theo retorts. ‘But, you’re right, I was born here, and I’ll end my days here.’

‘Oh, heavens, don’t, Daddy!’ Immi finds herself immediately regressing back to being the little girl she once was: the only daughter of a man whose birth into the North Yorkshire family of Mandeville means he must carry on that lineage; continue the tradition and upkeep of the noble seat.

Except she isn’t a little girl any more, for heaven’s sake.

‘Well, Dad,’ she says, ‘once you pop your clogs, Angus will take up the baton. You did your duty producing an heir and a spare.’