Epilogue
TWELVE MONTHS LATER - CHRISTMAS EVE
I gave my to-do list one last check and smiling at the line of ticks, was pleased I was going into my festive break with no loose ends to niggle at me.
Switching everything off and setting the alarm, I was closing a little earlier than planned.
The morning had been quiet, although I’d known it would be.
People didn’t prioritise property at Christmas.
I knew Mum would be happy I’d be home early. We were hosting our very own le Réveillon de Noel and after her previous year’s experience, she couldn’t wait to get the party started.
I stepped out onto Settledown High Street and determined to forget about work until the new year, locked the door behind me.
I paused to look up at the shop’s signage and proud of how far I’d come in the past year, wanted to hug myself.
What once said Leaf and Spine now advertised E.
Gordon’s Property Services, the estate agency I’d once thought I was too late in my career to build.
My phone bleeped and digging it out of my bag, I found a text from Mum asking how long I was going to be.
I shook my head and laughed at her nerve.
Since purchasing her Honda Jazz, Mum’s spontaneity had returned with a vengeance, and we didn’t know where she was half the time.
Although to be fair, since her French adventure, she at least tried to remember to leave a note.
Life as an influencer with an audience to entertain was certainly busy.
I waved at Hattie next door in The Knitting Nook and catching her attention, tapped my watch. ‘See you later,’ I mouthed.
Sat behind the counter, she paused in her crocheting and, smiling, gave me a thumbs-up.
Leaving her to it, as I made my way to the car park, my phone bleeped again. It was another message, this time from Joyce. Asking if she should bring something to that night’s celebration, I fired back telling her everything was in hand.
The drive home took all of five minutes, nothing like the long commute to Leeds I’d had to endure until my flat sold.
Pulling up outside Mum’s, I smiled at her brightly lit Christmas tree, taking in the last surviving childhood paper chain that had made it through to another year and hung amongst its branches.
Mum banged on the glass of her bedroom window and as I looked up, she signalled she’d be down shortly.
Acknowledging her, I left her to her own devices and headed straight for next door.
‘I’m back,’ I called out over the music.
I shook my head. If I’d heard that Christmas CD once, I’d heard it a thousand times.
Jackson came charging downstairs, followed by a couple of his friends. ‘Hi, Erin,’ he said as they whizzed by on their way to the kitchen. ‘You’re home early.’ They were, no doubt, grabbing refreshments in readiness of their next bout on the PlayStation.
Jackson was nothing like the boy I’d met the previous year.
Back then he’d seemed moody and mysterious.
Now he was like any other teenager. Interested in video games, music and girls.
He was still in contact with Gisèle’s niece, leaving Mum secretly hoping they’d one day marry.
Having unofficially adopted Jackson has her grandson, she’d since set her sights on the more elite great-grandparent club, and Jackson was her only chance at membership.
I made my way into the kitchen and while Jackson and his friends raided the fridge, I paused in the doorway to watch Theo work his magic at the stove.
He stirred, tossed and sprinkled and turning his attention to the oven, took out a roasting tray, basted its contents and put it back into the heat.
I let out a contented sigh. There was a man who made cooking look sexy.
Theo had experienced a work change too. When I launched E.
Gordon’s Property Services, Theo had insisted he take charge of the catering.
Guests had devoured his food and before he knew it, he was in demand for both private and corporate events.
Thanks to word of mouth, Theo’s reputation as a chef grew fast and he hadn’t looked back since.
Sensing my presence, he looked my way and as a big smile spread across his face, hastened over to the CD player to turn down the music. ‘Here,’ he said, patting a stool at the island. ‘Let me get you a drink.’ He pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and pouring a glass, handed it to me.
As he leaned in for a kiss which I readily accepted, Jackson and his friends groaned at the sight.
‘Get a room,’ one of them said.
To me that sounded like a plan. ‘Meet you upstairs in five?’ I whispered.
Theo glanced over at the stove. ‘Make it ten and you’re on.’
THE END