The course of his future might have changed, but Johnny knew that it still lay around here. It was only a shame that Sally wasn’t sticking around to benefit from the fruits of her labours. The thought of his ex-girlfriend made his heart squeeze with sadness. She’d be sorely missed around here. And not just by him.
‘Are you all right for a minute here, Dana?’ he asked, calling across to where she was still bent over working.
‘Sure,’ she shouted back.
‘I’m just going to go and have a word with Sally.’
Chapter Ninety-Four
Debs has left me on the bench. She’s off for a wild night out tonight – her words, not mine. But I’m still sat here contemplating my future.
The sun’s going down, but this corner of the garden is still pleasantly warm. All my old dears are going to love sitting out here and gossiping. Such a shame that I won’t be here to join them.
‘Care for some company?’
‘Johnny,’ I say with a start. ‘Didn’t hear you coming. I was miles away.’
My friend sits down beside me. ‘In Surrey?’
‘Somewhere like that,’ I concede with a shrug.
‘This is unrecognisable.’ Johnny gapes in awe around the garden, which gives me a rush of pleasure. The hoodies are just packing their stuff away in the far corner. ‘Those kids have worked wonders.’
‘They’ve been brilliant,’ I agree. ‘I hope this is a turning-point for them. I want them to realise what they can achieve if they only put their minds to it.’
‘I’m sure that this has helped them to see that. They should be eternally grateful to you.’
I laugh at that. ‘But I’m sure they won’t be.’
‘You should be very proud of all this too,’ Johnny says. ‘I hope that you are.’
‘Just a little bit,’ I admit with a smile. ‘Well, quite a lot really.’
He puts his arm round me and hugs me. ‘Don’t suppose that we’ll get many more moments like this.’
‘No.’ And it makes me unutterably sad to think that we won’t. ‘It’s been really nice working together.’
‘Yeah,’ Johnny agrees.
Then we sit and take in the evening air in silence for a few minutes, before I say, ‘Hey, I saw you in the local paper. Debs showed it to me. You should be proud of that.’
Johnny flushes. ‘Now I’ve got fame and fortune,’ he says. Then he turns to look at me and his eyes are troubled. ‘But you’re still leaving.’
I nod. How can I begin to explain to Johnny the turmoil that’s going through my brain right now? Though I’ve certainly got my doubts, I think that they’re better left unspoken. Especially to Johnny. I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong impression. Even though I’m not sure any more what the wrong impression actually is.
‘Do you know when you’re going?’ he asks, breaking into my mental meanderings. His voice is gruff and I avoid looking at him.
‘We’ve got to finalise that yet,’ I say, staring out across the garden. What I mean is that Spencer and I haven’t even discussed it. Would I want to leave straight away or would I rather have one last Christmas at Bill Shankly House for old time’s sake? Or could our move to pastures new wait until next spring, so that at least I’ll see some of the things that we’ve planted in the garden come into bud for the first time? I don’t know, is the short answer. I’ll have to ask Spencer what he’s thinking. ‘Whether it will be sooner or later, I’m not sure.’
‘Can I ask a favour before you go?’
‘Anything.’
‘I’d like to take Charlie out for the day. I’d like to treat him for all that he’s done for me.’
‘That’s really nice, Johnny.’ I’ve managed to forgive my son for his criminal tendencies and put it down to a minor aberration. As long as he doesn’t view this as a reward for bad behaviour – I’ll have to make that very clear. Still, I know that Johnny always has the best intentions when it comes to Charlie. I rest my hand on his bare arm and am surprised to feel a pleasant tingle go through my palm. The skin that once was so familiar to me has now become strange and exciting. I brush away the thought. ‘I’m sure he’d love it.’
‘I thought me and Dana could take him to Alton Towers, something like that.’
‘Dana?’ My throat goes dry as I say her name.
‘You wouldn’t mind if she came with us? The hotel there’s supposed to be nice with some themed rooms and stuff. I’d like us all to stay overnight then we can get into the park early.’
‘With Dana?’
‘Yeah,’ Johnny says. ‘She’s a junkie for those white-knuckle rides.’
They make me want to puke.
‘I don’t know,’ I say, chewing my fingernail even though it’s full of grit. ‘Charlie’s going through a lot right now, I’m not sure that he could cope with going away with someone else new.’
What I really mean is that I don’t want my son getting too cosy with Johnny’s new lady when all is not well in the world with my new man in the kid department.
‘Charlie loves Dana already,’ my friend says proudly. And I wonder whether the wistful note in his voice means that Johnny feels the same way too. ‘They get on like a house on fire. She’s so great with kids.’
A pathetic wave of jealousy whips through me. With my kid, I think. Charlie’s my kid! Why can’t Spencer get on with him ‘like a house on fire’, eh? Why can’t I be the one to go to Alton Towers with Johnny and my boy? Then, before I can think better of it, I blurt out, ‘I could come instead. The three of us could go. You, me and Charlie. It’d be like old times.’
Johnny looks slightly taken aback at my outburst. ‘Except it wouldn’t,’ he says softly. ‘Besides . . .’ He pauses for a moment, clearly looking for the right words. ‘I’ve kind of already mentioned it to Dana.’
‘Of course,’ I say, tears suddenly forming behind my eyes. ‘She’s your new girlfriend. Of course you’ll want to take her.’
A traitorous tear spills out of my eye.
‘Why are you crying?’
‘I don’t know,’ I snap. ‘Probably because I want to go to bloody Alton Towers too.’
‘But you hate white-knuckle rides,’ Johnny says, quite reasonably.
And I know that I do, but pointing it out just doesn’t make me feel any better.
Chapter Ninety-Five
I’m kneeling down planting some small but healthy lavender bushes around the patio. The idea is that, along with the roses, they’ll give the area a lovely scent. Spencer’s kneeling next to me, shirt sleeves rolled up, digging holes with a trowel. He looks perfectly contented.
And I should be delighted that he’s here as he dashed over eager to continue with the garden as soon as he’d finished today’s computer class. A class which I should have been at, but missed. Spencer hasn’t taken me to task over it – maybe he assumed I hadn’t gone along just because I was too busy with the regeneration project. Partly, that’s true. But to be honest, I couldn’t face sitting in that stuffy little room staring at a computer screen any longer. The course only has another week to run. Then it’s done. Frankly, I’ve probably learned as much as I need to know for now. I wanted to be out here. I wanted some peace and quiet. I wanted to feel the sun on my face while it’s still around. The project has progressed so well and we’ve had so many willing volunteers that it will soon be over, and part of me will be so sad to see it end. It feels as if a chapter in my life – a very fulfilling one – is coming to a close.
Next to me, Spencer is chatting away while I let his words wash over me. I’m only half listening, if I’m honest.
‘We could have the wedding on the lawn at Alderstone House,’ he says. ‘Get a huge marquee. We did the same for my parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary. The caterers were wonderful. They’d be perfect. We also have a florist who’s done the arrangements for the house for many years. We haven’t discussed your ring yet, but my grandmother left her engagement ring to me. I’ve always hoped that my wife would w
ear it.’
At that, I tune back into the conversation. ‘Your grandmother’s ring?’
‘Yes.’
Do I want to wear Spencer’s granny’s ring? Isn’t that bad luck? ‘I think I’d quite like to choose my own.’
‘Oh.’ Clearly, Spencer hadn’t considered that. ‘It really is beautiful.’
And it’s second-hand. I’ve spent all of my life being a secondhand Rose; I’d like something sparkly and new and mine.
Come to think of it, do I actually want a huge wedding with a marquee and caterers recommended by Spencer’s parents and the old family florist? Who would I invite? I’d love Mrs Kapur to be there, but would she be too frail to make the round trip? How would the posh Knights cope with the wanderings of Dora the Explorer?
Somehow I always thought that the register office in Liverpool city centre would get my business when I finally decided to tie the knot. Next Spencer will be telling me that he’s sold the exclusive coverage rights to Hello! magazine or, more likely, Horse & Hound. All this talk is starting to give me palpitations. I grab a lavender plant and inhale deeply. That’s supposed to calm you down, right?
‘I thought Tuscany for the honeymoon,’ Spencer continues happily as he digs. I pass him a tender lavender plant and he takes it from me and lovingly commits it to the earth. Pausing in my toil, I look up at him. This man does everything with such care, such precision. I love him for it.
‘Where’s Tuscany?’
He seems taken aback at that and turns to see if I’m joking. I’m not.
‘Italy,’ he supplies.
‘Oh,’ I say. ‘Sounds nice.’ But even to my ears my response sounds lacklustre.
‘I thought we could find a cookery course or maybe a painting course. I’ve always wanted to devote some time to watercolours.’
That takes me aback. ‘You paint?’
‘Dabble,’ Spencer insists modestly. ‘Nowhere near as good as Johnny.’
‘No.’ I sit back on my heels. According to the Liverpool Echo, no one’s as good as Johnny.
‘Does that sound okay?’
They both sound too much like hard work to me. I cook every day as it is – can’t quite see the attraction of doing it on honeymoon too. Isn’t the idea of a holiday that someone cooks for you? Painting? Never had, or am likely to have, any desire to put brush to canvas. ‘So what will we do with Charlie when we’re cooking or painting?’
Spencer flushes. ‘We could organise it for when he’s in school.’
I lay down my trowel. ‘I told you, he’s not going away to school. He’s going to be at home.’
‘Then my parents could look after him,’ he capitulates.
That makes me laugh – and not in a good way. ‘They’ll hate him. Why would I leave him with them? He doesn’t even know them.’
‘I’m sure they’ll love him.’
I’m equally sure that they’ll hate him. Like they hate me. Can you imagine them liking a scrotty, council-flat kid born on the wrong side of the sheets running amok in their stately home? No wonder that Spencer’s so anxious to get rid of him to some swanky school where he’ll probably have to wear a tailcoat and a top hat. Well, not my Charlie!
‘I don’t think that’s an option,’ I say firmly.
‘What about Johnny?’
‘I can’t dump Charlie on Johnny every time we want to swan off together. It might be okay for a couple of days at a push, but you’re probably thinking about a week.’
‘Two,’ he says weakly.
I shrug. ‘It’s not going to happen.’
‘You never really mentioned Charlie’s father,’ Spencer points out. ‘Doesn’t he have access or visitation rights?’
‘He’s in Walton Prison for armed robbery for the foreseeable future.’
Spencer pales at that. I normally try to keep that quiet, but my future intended might as well know what he’s dealing with. In fact, I take some sort of perverse delight in telling Spencer. Perhaps he has visions of Charlie’s dad turning up at Alderstone House armed with a sawn-off shotgun. He doesn’t need to know that the further away I can keep Charlie from his dad, the better.
‘So don’t be thinking that you can palm Charlie off on him,’ I snap.
When I see quite how horrified he looks, I feel awful and add, ‘He wasn’t an armed robber when I was with him.’ Just so he knows that my taste in men isn’t truly appalling. Though, if I’m truthful, even back then I could see the potential.
Then I sigh inwardly. Am I doing the same thing here? Am I simply ignoring the alarm bells that are quietly but persistently ringing in my head? Okay, Spencer may not be giving off violent criminal vibes and he may be the perfect man on paper, but can we overcome the more obvious and ten-year-old glitch in our relationship? Is it surmountable?
‘Is a honeymoon out of the question at all?’ he wants to know.
‘We could go to Disneyland or somewhere that has a water park and take Charlie with us.’
Now Spencer looks like he’s about to faint. ‘On honeymoon?’
‘That’s what being a family is all about,’ I tell him. ‘We do things together. One of us doesn’t get left out all the time. We’re not a couple, Spencer. We’re a threesome.’
‘I know,’ Spencer replies earnestly with a sigh. ‘I have to start to think differently. It will just take time.’
But I wonder how long. Hasn’t he had just about long enough?
He can obviously sense my doubts as he abandons the lavender plants and comes to put his arms around me and hold me tight. ‘Don’t give up on me,’ he says. ‘Please. We’ll work this out. I promise you.’
I want to believe him, I really do. But do you ever do that thing when the batteries on the remote control for the telly are going flat and you just keep pressing the buttons harder in the hope that, against all the odds, it will finally work? Isn’t that exactly what I’m doing now?
Chapter Ninety-Six
I’ve worried about the weather for days. Normally, the British weather is about as reliable as some of the more dodgy men who Debs has dated. I had visions of it pouring down and turning our barbecue to celebrate the end of project All You Need Is Love into a complete washout. But my fears were unfounded. Today, the elements are behaving perfectly. There’s just the right amount of brilliant blue sky, the right amount of sunshine. And, like Goldilocks’s porridge, it’s not too hot, not too cold. There’s the right amount of breeze too, enough to keep the kids from over-heating, but not too much to risk the flames from the barbecue engulfing the newly-renovated Community Centre.
Johnny and Spencer are in control of the man-kitchen and there’s much discussion going on about the heat of the coals and whether the chicken has been marinaded for long enough. They’re smiling and laughing together and my heart flips as I watch them and I don’t know why.
They might be concerned about the marinade, I’m more worried whether we’ve got enough chicken for everyone who’s coming along today. I take a minute to stand and look around me. In some ways it really saddens me that the project is just about finished. Ted, Brian and Jim are currently helping Johnny’s mum who is sitting in her wheelchair at a fold-up table putting a few last pretty, flowering plants into two hanging baskets to grace the front of our lovely Community Centre. But, other than that, we’re done.
All the residents who’ve been involved are coming along to our little celebration and there’ll be a few bods from the Council too including Dana and Richard Selley, the man who helped us to set it all up in the first place.
Dana Barnes might be younger, prettier and more competent than me, but I can’t deny that she’s been a great help around here – she’s really thrown herself into the project with great gusto. All the people on the estate love her – including Johnny, it seems. She’s thrown herself with great gusto at my ex-boyfriend too. I feel ridiculously jealous, but despite that, I still really like Dana. I’ve even agreed that they can take Charlie away for an overnight stay to Alton Towers – even
though I’ll spend all the time having a heart-attack, wondering what my only child is up to and whether he’s lying tangled in the machinery of a white-knuckle ride.
Debs and I are standing behind the buffet tables which have been covered with red and white gingham cloths in convenient wipe-clean plastic. I’m trying to organise the bowls of salad that we’ve already prepared this morning in an attractive fashion. Super Sal, needless to say, has been up preparing food since dawn. My dear friend is buttering finger rolls. She’s been unusually quiet all morning.
‘Feeling a bit under the weather?’ I ask.
She shakes her head. ‘Just thinking.’
‘Want to share?’
Debs pauses in her buttering. ‘How can you leave all this behind?’ she says. ‘Now that you’ve done so much for the area?’
‘I don’t know,’ I answer with a sigh. ‘Everywhere’s looking so wonderful.’
‘You’ve done a great job, Sal.’
‘We all have.’
‘I haven’t planted a single thing,’ she reminds me.
‘Yeah. But you’ve been there with the bacon butties and the tea and stuff whenever we’ve needed it.’
Debs huffs and I can tell that she’s not really worried about her lack of horticultural involvement. ‘What’s this really about?’ I ask.
‘What am I going to do without you?’ she complains. ‘You’ve been my bezzie since school. Just think of all the things we’ve been through together.’
‘No one can take that away from us.’
‘It won’t be the same. What if they put some miserable old goat in your flat or a family of fifty Romanians?’
‘Or they might put some hunky young single guy in there.’
All You Need is Love Page 30