Chapter 14 #2
‘It’s a good idea,’ he says to Jenna. ‘We’ll be back in an hour. Go and put your feet up. You’ll feel so much better.’
She stifles another yawn. ‘OK! Away with you… And thank you…’
It takes an age to organise Harrie in the pram. ‘It’s so strange,’ I say to Ollie as we walk down the street towards the park. ‘It’s decades since I’ve pushed a pram. But it seems like yesterday you were a baby.’
‘Time flies, doesn’t it?’ he says. ‘But right now, I really don’t want it to. I’m going to be working from home much more from now on. I don’t want to miss a minute of this little one growing up.’
When his own father was so disengaged, I wonder where it comes from, this instinct to parent. Or maybe it’s because of Ryan; that in parenting, we take the best of what we know, discard the worst. ‘You’re a great dad already,’ I say softly.
‘Thanks.’ He sounds pleased. ‘I guess I learned the hard way what kind of father I don’t want to be.’
‘Yes.’ The air is oddly silent. ‘It wasn’t your fault. You do know that, don’t you, Olls?’
‘I do now.’ He gazes towards some trees where a couple of boys are kicking a football.
‘When I was younger, I never really got why Dad was so angry all the time. I always believed it was because I’d done something – I couldn’t think of any other reason why he’d be like that.
I think Lexie felt the same.’ A shadow crosses his face. ‘Poor Lex. He was awful to her.’
A wave of guilt takes my breath away. ‘I know he was. He was awful to both of you.’
Ollie glances sideways at me. ‘There wasn’t anything you could have done though, Mum. He was impossible. Don’t beat yourself up. It didn’t help that Lexie’s mind worked differently to the rest of ours. The way Dad was, I think they were destined to be at loggerheads.’
I know what he’s trying to do, that he doesn’t want me to feel bad. But I’ll always believe I could have done more, my guilt my way of punishing myself.
‘She’s waking up.’ Reaching forward, Ollie adjusts Harrie’s blanket. ‘I keep having to pinch myself. I still can’t believe I have a daughter.’
‘You’ll get used to it. It’s a whole new chapter, isn’t it,’ I say wonderingly, ‘being a parent?’
‘And a grandparent.’ Ollie nudges my elbow, then glances at his watch. ‘Jenna will be missing her. Do you think we should take her home?’
* * *
Having a granddaughter is bittersweet; utterly joyous; I can’t help but be reminded of you.
‘They are amazing parents,’ I tell Lucy.
‘Of course they are,’ she says. ‘Why wouldn’t they be?’
As if she has to ask. ‘Not everyone is,’ I remind her. ‘And Ollie didn’t have the best role model.’
‘Oh, hush.’ Coming over, she kisses me on the cheek. ‘He did, Edes. He had you.’ As she stands there, a look of panic crosses her face. ‘Shit. I completely forgot. It’s the next instalment of our TV wedding.’
‘Oh no.’ My heart misses a beat. ‘It can’t be. Not today.’
Lucy’s already leafing frantically through our diary. ‘Thank fuck,’ she breathes. ‘It’s the day after tomorrow.’
‘This cannot happen again,’ I tell her. ‘I can’t take the stress. We need a wall calendar that neither of us can miss.’
‘Above the kettle,’ Lucy suggests, ‘so that we look at it several times a day.’ She pauses. ‘We don’t have enough flowers for the cameras.’
‘That’s fine,’ I say. ‘As one of our best growers, I know exactly where to find them.’
I drive over to Mary’s garden. Parking, I get out, taking a moment to savour the peace.
Going in, I cut more narcissi and tulips, lengths of hazel from which clusters of catkins hang; bunches of sweet-scented hyacinths.
All of it fits Elisa’s seasonal, local brief, and it crosses my mind that maybe we should invite the cameras to come and film here, too.
Once I’ve finished, I stand here thinking how much I’ve come to love this place. How as well as growing flowers here, it’s become a place where I can be alone with my thoughts; where I can breathe.
‘Edie?’ A voice calls out.
I turn to see Mary picking her way across the garden. ‘Hello!’ I raise a hand, waiting for her to come closer.
Reaching me, she looks more frail than last time I saw her as she gazes across the flowerbeds. ‘I do love this time of year, watching everything come to life.’ She studies the flowers I’ve cut. ‘Those narcissi are just so perfect.’
Reaching down, I pick up a few of them and give them to her.
‘I still have those tulips you gave me last time.’ She holds them to her nose. ‘These smell heavenly, don’t they?’
I notice an air of distraction about her. ‘How are you, Mary?’
‘Well…’ She hesitates. ‘Oh dear. I really didn’t want to say this.’ When she looks troubled, a feeling of unease comes over me. ‘Edie, I have some bad news. I’ve been putting off telling you – but I’m going to have to sell the house.’
* * *
Today is a busy day, but this is important. It’s also the first time I’ve seen Mary look worried. In her kitchen, I make us both a cup of tea, then take them over to the table where she’s sitting.
‘Where are you planning to move to?’ I ask.
‘I don’t know.’ She looks unhappy. ‘My grandson is looking into places. He’s going to draw up a shortlist and we’ll go to visit them together.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ It’s been her home for sixty years. I know what a blow it will be to leave here.
‘I don’t want to go.’ She looks troubled. ‘But he says the house is far too much for me. And he’s right.’
I glance around the kitchen that used to be neat as a pin, and it could do with cleaning. ‘It’s a big place,’ I say carefully. ‘I know it’s none of my business, but…’ I pause. ‘If you don’t want to move, couldn’t you find someone to live-in and help you?’
‘I thought about that.’ She gazes at me. ‘Home care is expensive, Edie. I have some savings – enough to cover a year or so. But after that, it would leave me with the same problem.’
I wonder if someone is putting pressure on her to move. But it’s as though she reads my mind.
‘My grandson is very kind.’ Her eyes mist over. ‘He and his wife have invited me to live with them. But I can’t do that. Their house is on the small side. And I’m not too bad now, but I don’t want to be a burden to anyone in the future.’
‘Maybe it’s for the best,’ I say. ‘There are some really lovely residential homes.’ But I know they’re not always easy to find.
‘Yes, dear.’ She looks towards the windows. ‘But it won’t be the same as living here.’
* * *
‘Poor Mary,’ I say when I get back to the workshop. ‘She’s putting her house on the market.’
‘No!’ Lucy looks shocked. ‘She’s spent most of her life there.’
‘I know,’ I say. ‘But you know the size of the place. It’s too much for her. I suggested she found someone to live in to help her, but she said it’s too expensive.’
Lucy shakes her head. ‘What about your beautiful garden?’
The garden’s become so much more than about our business; it’s become a place of healing to me since losing you. ‘It’s her beautiful garden,’ I remind Lucy. ‘I can start again somewhere else.’
‘Unless…’ When Lucy looks up, her eyes are wide as she stares at me. ‘I have an idea.’ She goes on. ‘If she really wants to stay there, couldn’t you move in and look after her?’
I look at her, stunned. ‘Sell our house, you mean?’
‘Edie…’ Lucy hesitates. ‘I know it’s your home. And I know it’s filled with memories. But not all of them are good – and you don’t need a three-bedroomed house. And financially… since Ryan moved out, I can see in you what a pressure it’s become.’
I frown at her. ‘You can?’ It’s the first time Lucy’s directly broached the subject of my finances.
‘I’ve managed,’ I protest. ‘With the publicity we’re going to get from Elisa’s wedding, our business is going to boom.
Long term, it will be fine.’ But underneath, I had my doubts.
And if I hadn’t inherited some money, there’s no way I could have either bought Ryan out or survived this long.
‘You’re probably right. The thing is…’ Lucy pauses.
‘We’re already rushed off our feet when wedding season’s in full swing.
If we get more bookings, we’ll need to employ staff.
Yes, we’ll earn more. But I’m not sure how much more.
’ Pausing again, she looks at me. ‘I’ve been thinking about it quite a lot.
We work so hard, Edie. Sometimes I wonder if there isn’t a way for us to have an easier life. ’
‘Easier?’ I stare at her. It’s the first time she’s mentioned anything like this.
‘Haven’t you thought about it?’ she says. ‘I mean, wouldn’t it be nice to have some money to spare – to go on a nice holiday, or treat yourself to some clothes?’
‘I can’t say I have.’ I look at her suspiciously. ‘What’s wrong with my clothes?’
‘Nothing.’ Lucy rolls her eyes. ‘As you know, you’re completely missing the point.’ She goes on, more quietly. ‘Every time you go home, I know you think of Lexie.’
‘It wouldn’t matter where I was.’ I would still think of you.
‘I know,’ she says. ‘But there are times in all our lives when we need different.’
Since moving back into our old family home, I haven’t considered selling it.
And I have no idea how Mary would feel about me looking after her, or if it’s even a possibility.
I’m not sure how I feel about it, either, but the idea lodges in my head, and I find myself unable to stop thinking about it.
* * *
Tonight, as I gaze around the rooms that have been my home for so long, that hold so many memories of you, it’s like I’m standing at a crossroads that has come out of nowhere. A crossroads from which my life could change.
Lucy’s right. As well as of Ollie and you, this house holds memories of Ryan. And mostly, they’re not good.
‘I’ve been thinking about what you said,’ I say to Lucy the next morning.
‘I know it was probably a non-starter,’ she says. ‘I mean, until recently, you’ve practically been Ryan’s carer. You don’t need to start being someone else’s. I just thought…’ She hesitated. ‘Like I said yesterday, change can be a good thing.’