Chapter 19
Lili hadn’t driven to Devon often since moving to Cornwall.
Her new home had everything she needed – coastal walks, her very own seal, cream teas just how she liked them, and a robin for meaningful conversation.
However, she had been walking in Dartmoor and found the landscape breathtaking.
She’d also visited a heritage site, of which there were many.
Today was the first time she’d been to Tavistock and what a beautiful market town it was with unique shops and classical architecture – a wrong turn had taken her through the centre.
She also saw the River Tavy. Dylan’s place was on the outskirts.
She drove past a suburban estate and then turned onto a main road.
A couple of miles along, Lili turned right, passing semi-detached homes that faced woodland.
At the end was an industrial area with two big vans parked outside and a large warehouse with a visible office.
The address she’d been given was the last semi.
She parked up on the road outside and got out, greeted by a rejuvenating breeze.
Lili carried a bag. Making a crumble didn’t mean a thing.
Bringing a dessert was simply polite. The house stood out from its companions along the road, with their neat borders, mowed lawns, with the hanging baskets and garden ornaments.
Dylan’s lawn was full of moss, the borders straggly and overgrown.
In a large ceramic flower pot, a half-dead plant had wilted.
As she walked up the drive, the front door flew open and Dylan shouted hello, wearing an apron that said ‘Eat if you dare’.
‘Another present from Harry?’ she asked and entered the hallway, head down, to avoid him kissing her cheek.
She passed the bag to him and wrapped her arms around her body, pretending to be cold, not wanting to risk being swept into a hug.
Walking past a row of sports shoes, she followed him into the kitchen.
The smell of roasting chicken welcomed her in and her shoulders relaxed.
Lili, stop being so uptight, she told herself .
Dylan placed the bag on a magnolia worktop and ran a hand over the apron.
‘How did you guess? This one’s from abroad.
Harry kicked off his travels by going to a mate’s wedding in the US.
Apparently, Texas, I think it was, is the capital of barbecues.
’ The kitchen was large, with a small pine dining table matching the cupboards.
A wide window looked out onto a back garden that was as untended as the front one.
He picked up the bag and peered inside at the crumble, wrapped in clingfilm, squirts of purple juice across its surface. His face broke into a smile.
‘A favourite of mine! Cheers, Lili. Let me guess… apple and blackberry?’
‘Correct.’
Water bubbled on the hob and he went to the fridge and took out a bag of vegetables he’d clearly prepared earlier. Dylan waved it in the air.
‘Sprouts okay?’
‘I love it when they come back into the shops every Christmas. Can I help?’
‘Get us drinks, if you like. There’s a bottle of fizzy elderflower in the fridge. I assumed you wouldn’t be drinking.’
Dylan had set the table and turned the roast potatoes. She took off her coat, opened the bottle and minutes later they were clinking glasses.
‘Great size kitchen,’ she said and looked around. ‘Your place is much bigger than my cottage.’
‘Yeah, it’s not bad. Grew up here. Harry and I have tried to put our own mark on it.
We got rid of the chintz wallpaper in the lounge and a mate replaced the old avocado bathroom.
I’d love a new kitchen. Pine’s not really my thing.
But we insisted on paying Mum and Dad the going rate of rent so that they could take on the mortgage of a small bungalow for their retirement – that was all before they decided to settle in Italy.
Their money is tied up in the business, you see.
It means there’s nothing left over for further changes here.
I suggested they sell this place, Harry and I would rent elsewhere, but they wouldn’t hear of it as it’s so close to the site for us. ’
‘I can’t wait to get out of renting. I want to invest my earnings. I’ve saved up, so hopefully in a year or two… whereas your rent, in a way, it’s being re-invested into your parents’ estate – and your future, I suppose?’
‘Yep. Harry and I will inherit at some point – hopefully not for a long time though.’
* * *
Over lunch he told her about his parents’ trips to the Amalfi Coast, specifically Vietri sul Mare, a fishing village where his mother came from, with cliffside restaurants, unobtrusive avenues and traditional ceramics.
Growing up there had made his mum’s move to Devon easy, as she was used to the coastal life and loved scones as much as the pear and ricotta cake popular in her hometown.
‘Sounds wonderful. Want to hear about the sights where my parents live in Manchester? The house is five minutes from a motorway and not far from a row of tower blocks.’ A smile flickered across her mouth.
‘Although the truth is, it was a brilliant place to grow up, with a lovely park nearby and amazing cafés. I miss the museums, the city vibe, the eclectic nature of everything in the centre, from the shops, to buskers, to passersby. The one thing that makes Cornwall feel like home is that the locals are as friendly as Mancunians.’
‘Us Devonians ain’t so bad,’ he said and sat down again.
She jerked her head towards the window. ‘Big garden. Dad always used to joke that his and Mum’s was the size of a postage stamp.’
Dylan gazed outside. ‘The garden is Harry’s terrain. Last week, on Instagram, he shared photos of a botanical park he’d visited. Not much interested in plants myself.’
‘I’d love to see them.’
‘They aren’t there any more. Harry put them in his story so they disappeared after twenty-four hours.’ Dylan shook his head. ‘I can’t keep up to be honest. His itinerary is ever-changing.’
‘When’s he back from travelling?’
‘God knows. I thought he’d be back by now. He keeps delaying his return. Having too much fun. But then my brother always has been more adventurous than me.’
‘You don’t mind? Isn’t the business difficult to run without him?’
‘I have to admit, it annoyed me at first but I make do. And recently I hired a great manager, Jags. The business has gradually expanded in recent years. It was time anyway. The nature of the work has changed over time, too, so we’ve been used to adapting and taking on new staff.
Most stuff used to be taken to a landfill.
Now there are regulations governing the environmental impact and customers make more demands in terms of ensuring what we take away is recycled where possible. ’
‘Which is a good thing.’
‘Agreed.’ Dylan took the chicken out of the oven.
Conversation faded whilst they ate the roast and Lili secretly basked in his compliments about the crumble.
He wouldn’t let her help wash up, so she nipped upstairs to use the bathroom.
A few minutes looking at the bags in the warehouse and she’d be gone.
Except part of her didn’t want to leave.
Visiting Dylan had felt… comfortable, companionable.
It was a feeling that had been missing from her life these last months – little moments of happiness.
There had been many of them with Em, and Lili wished she could recall every single one.
She’d always believed making new memories with her friend would never stop.
She was about to go back downstairs when a framed poster caught her attention, visible past the door, on the wall in a nearby bedroom.
It was of a concert headlined by Caravan Palace – the same as Em’s poster!
Underneath, on a desk, was a stack of books, on top of a chest of drawers, all of them musicians’ biographies…
Ozzie Osbourne, Kylie, Elton John, Jay Z, Bob Dylan, Melanie C.
Dylan cleared his throat behind her. ‘I thought you’d got lost,’ he said, ‘but the house isn’t that big.’
She jumped and turned around. ‘Sorry… didn’t mean to pry… I just saw that poster. Em loved Caravan Palace. Have you seen them live?’
‘Oh, this isn’t my room. Harry’s the musical boffin.’ He hesitated and led her in. On the wall was a guitar. ‘He was in a band at school and still meets his mates to jam now and again.’ Dylan pointed to the poster. ‘He loves their Parisian vibe.’
The room was so neat – vacuumed, not a crease in the bed cover. A leather jacket hung from a peg on the wall.
‘Great coat.’
‘His pride and joy. The stallholder said it once belonged to Adam Levine. I’m not convinced but Harry believes it and that’s all that matters.
’ He shook his head. ‘Music means everything to him. Any genre. Big or small artists. Big or small venues. He always talks about going to Vegas, one day, to catch a singer who might have a residency there. The ultimate experience, he reckons. And he does love a scratch card – probably thinks he’ll win big in the casinos. ’
‘Em wanted to visit there too! In fact we booked a trip for our approaching thirtieth birthdays. Well, the hotel, at least.’
‘What a shame you didn’t get to go,’ he said and closed the door to Harry’s room behind them as they left. They went downstairs.
‘I still need to cancel it.’
Dylan raised an eyebrow.
She exhaled. ‘I know. I just haven’t been able to face it.
Em had been so excited. Me too if I’m honest. I’m more of a walk-through-the-woods-holiday kinda person, but…
she was feeling down in the months before she died.
I wanted to cheer her up and we both laughed at what a crazy experience going there would be. ’ Why was she telling him this?
He touched the small of her back and pursed his mouth in a sympathetic manner. He didn’t say a word, but Lili and her sadness felt seen.
Which was why after sifting through bags, after retrieving a gorgeous art deco clock, piles of books and board games and a complete floral crockery set, along with an array of ornaments and old CDs, she couldn’t bring herself to say they wouldn’t see each other again.
She’d have to pick up the crumble dish, anyway.
As she began to drive away, towards the junction at the end of his road, a banging resounded from the boot of her car. She stopped abruptly. Dylan’s face appeared at the driver’s window and she wound it down.
‘I almost forgot,’ he panted, out of breath.
He brought up his hand and in front of his face held a large, amber-coloured horse chestnut leaf.
His eyes were laughing, and she couldn’t gaze away; the sight before her was mesmerising – the leaf, of course, the leaf.
That was it. He twisted it from side to side, black hair messy, him smelling of bergamot, the joke whirling in his eyes like a leaf in the wind.
Gently, he placed it on her lap before running back to his house.
Grinning from ear to ear, she drove home, singing along to ‘Jump’ by Van Halen. Eventually, her mind drifted to the upcoming week at work. A typical day managing the shop involved supervising the staff, but also mucking in:
Sorting items and bagging up the surplus ones that can be sold, to pass onto other Ware & Care outlets.
Steaming and tagging clothes, putting them on rails.
Rotating stock on the shelves.
Changing the window display.
Taking out time to chat to customers, especially regulars.
Lili loved her job and was fond of everyone who worked with her. She squirmed in the car seat as she thought about her conversation with Dylan about Vegas and how some customers at the shop scrimped to save money. She needed to sort the hotel cancellation and get a refund.
As soon as she got back to the cottage, she placed the horse chestnut leaf on the coffee table, collapsed on the sofa, got out her laptop, and went online for her booking of two adjoining rooms. Lili had expected to lose out financially, 25 per cent of the overall cost perhaps.
There was still a month to go, after all.
It wasn’t as if she was cancelling right at the last minute.
But when she clicked on cancel, the penalty seemed much bigger.
The travel company’s helpline was open until six on a Sunday.
She just had time and, coat still on, took out her phone, punched in the number and pressed dial.
When you looked closely at the dates, the man explained, and counted the days, which Lili hadn’t, the hotel stay was just under thirty days away now. The bigger penalty was correct.
Seventy per cent of the overall cost! She and Em had only been visiting for four days but hadn’t stinted, calling the break a last hurrah before really saving hard to build a future.
The rooms were deluxe, with silk gold and damask interiors, the hotel incredible with a spa and pool attendants taking bar orders as you chilled on a lounger.
The man told her to look at the small print. She didn’t mention Em’s death or try to make excuses. He was right. She should have checked the paperwork months ago.
What a waste of money, but how could she go alone, without Em? Somehow, the hotel stay had to be recycled, whether she got back what it had cost or not. Lili spent the evening racking her brains, and then it came to her.
Of course!
Harry! Dylan said his brother had always wanted to go there. He was travelling anyway. She’d lose her money but at least if he could take one of the rooms the booking wouldn’t be completely wasted.
She took out her phone and her breath hitched for a second, like it always did, seeing Em’s old phone number, once again in her Contacts list, even though it was now listed under Dylan Davis. Fingers moving quickly, Lili texted him.