Coming Home to Glendale Hall

by Victoria Walters

I joined her and picked up my glass. ‘Definitely okay but I did drive here.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure we can find lifts home. Don’t worry. Here’s to catching up after ten years.’

  ‘Cheers.’ We clinked glasses and I took a long gulp. ‘I needed that.’

  ‘Being back home is hard, huh?’ she asked, her face screwed up in sympathy. ‘I know when I first moved back it was a big adjustment.’

  ‘And you get on with your family.’ I let out a small laugh, but I knew it sounded hollow. I sighed, fingering my glass on the table. ‘I thought I’d put everything behind me, you know, but being back here… there are so many unsaid things in my family, so many unresolved issues. We’ve ignored them for ten years, but I don’t think we can keep doing that. My gran is really sick so if we don’t face them now, we might never be able to. I guess I’m still angry with them and they’re still disappointed with me. How do you move past that?’

  Heather thought for a moment. ‘I think you have to talk it all through. They might not be disappointed. Sometimes it’s hard for people to show how they really feel. I’m sure they’re proud of the life you’ve made in London. And look at Izzy, she seems like a wonderful kid. And that’s down to you. I think at some point you all have to forgive each other for what happened. That’s the only way to move on, isn’t it?’

  I wondered if I could ever forgive my family for pushing me away. As soon as the words left Heather’s lips, though, I knew she was right. Things were still difficult between us because I couldn’t forgive them for not supporting me, and I assumed they couldn’t forgive me for running away and having Izzy against their wishes. ‘I’m not sure we do forgiveness,’ I replied. It seemed like a handholding, therapist sharing kind of concept, one totally against our reserved, stiff-upper lip way of doing things. Although Gran had brought up the subject herself, hadn’t she? She had seemed to want to finally talk about, and face, the past. Perhaps forgiveness was on her mind. Regret was certainly. ‘Coming back here has dragged up all kinds of ghosts.’

  Heather smiled. ‘Including me.’

  ‘You’re a good ghost though. I’m sorry we didn’t keep in touch.’

  ‘We both had our lives to get on with, right? And it doesn’t matter. Friendship just doesn’t stop because you don’t see each other every day. We’ve been through so much, you can’t shake that kind of bond, right?’

  I thought of all the times we spent together growing up, and I nodded. ‘We did have some good times. Remember when we came here for your sixteenth birthday? We ended up dancing on the tables in the beer garden, even though it was freezing.’

  ‘I was so sick that night,’ she replied with a shudder. ‘I’ve never touched vodka since. Fact. And what about when Drew stole Rory’s car and hit a tree and we had to ring him and admit what we had done?’

  ‘He was so angry,’ I said, thinking back. ‘And he gave us that three-hour lecture about car safety. To be fair, I’ve never had an accident since.’

  The door to the pub opened then, letting in a gust of bitter air, and I glanced over at it as a tall man with auburn hair strode in, his cheeks red from the cold.

  ‘Oh, God,’ Heather muttered, seeing him. ‘Are you stalking me again, Rory?’ she said, louder, as he passed by our table.

  He stopped and grinned. ‘I think we already established it’s you who has the unrequited love problem, Heather,’ he replied, his Scottish accent thick. I looked up at him, and my heart bounced in my chest. He noticed me. ‘Who’s this? Hey…’ he said, catching the familiarity of my face. His eyes widened. ‘Beth? Beth Williams?’

  ‘Hi, Rory,’ I managed to say, my breath caught in my throat as I greeted Drew’s older brother.

  He started. ‘Blimey, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here tonight. Actually…’ He turned to the door, looking awkward. ‘Maybe I better—’

  Before he could finish his sentence, the door swung open again, and this time the three of us turned to watch as someone else walked in, looked around and waved when he spotted Rory, then headed straight for us.

  It felt as if the floor slipped from under me. I grabbed the edge of my chair to steady myself. He looked just the same. Taller, thinner maybe, and with a slight tan but his red hair was still in the same floppy cut, there was still a faint line of stubble on his chin and that smile was exactly the same.

  ‘Oh my god,’ I said, under my breath, not able to take my eyes off of him.

  ‘Over here,’ Rory said, waving him over.

  ‘No worries, I paid for the taxi,’ Drew said with an eye-roll in his brother’s direction then he noticed Heather who was staring open-mouthed at me. She quickly turned to him.

  ‘Oh, my goodness! Drew? I haven’t seen you here for ages,’ she said, her voice a little squeaky. She brushed her foot against my leg under the table. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  ‘I thought you were in America,’ I found myself blurting out, causing all their eyes to turn to me. I was surprised that I could speak – my throat felt as if it was closing up. It was all coming back. The kisses. The way he held my hand. His fingers in my hair. The stolen moments at his farm. The day I realised I couldn’t tell him I was pregnant. The letter I wrote, tears streaming down my face, telling him about our baby.

  Drew’s eyes met mine then. There was a long pause as he stared at me, as shocked as his brother had been to see me in there. I wasn’t sure which one of us was more shocked actually.

  Rory jumped in to save us all. ‘Back for Christmas, aren’t you? And in need of a beer I bet, shall we?’ Rory asked, gesturing to the bar.

  ‘Beth? Is that you?’ Drew said, finally, not seeming to have noticed his brother speaking. I managed to nod.

  ‘Beth is back for Christmas, too,’ Heather said, quickly. ‘Her grandmother isn’t well, so here she is, back in Glendale after all this time!’

  ‘It’s been ten years, hasn’t it? Rory asked, his voice a little hard. ‘Look, how about we get some drinks, eh, Drew? We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?’ he said, patting Drew’s arm.

  That seemed to shake Drew out of staring at me. He looked at Rory and nodded. ‘Yeah, I think I need a drink,’ he said. I noticed he had a slight American edge to his accent now. Rory hurried off to the bar, glad to escape it looked like. I saw Heather reach for her wine and take a long gulp.

  Drew turned to go, and then paused to look back at me. ‘It’s been a long time,’ he said.

  ‘It has,’ I agreed.

  ‘You look… well,’ he said then turned and practically ran after Rory to the bar.

  I exhaled and slumped in my chair. ‘Oh my god,’ I said.

  Heather refilled my wine and pushed the glass towards me. ‘You need that. Are you okay? You look white as a sheet.’

  ‘I can’t believe he’s here,’ I said, taking it gratefully and draining half of the glass down my throat in one gulp.

  ‘I haven’t seen him in ages. Rory’s often in here but I never thought. I can’t believe you two are back here at the same time! What are the odds?’

  I shook my head. It felt like the universe was playing a really cruel trick on me.

  Heather leaned forward then. ‘So, he doesn’t know anything about Izzy? Right?’

  ‘Actually…’ I leaned closer and in a low voice confessed to writing to Drew when Izzy was one. ‘I never heard back from him.’

  Her eyes flashed. ‘The utter bastard! And to see you here and not even ask about her!’ she glanced behind her, and we saw Rory and Drew sitting at a table in the back, beers in front of them. ‘I just can’t believe that.’

  ‘I feel like such a fool. I was so in love with him, Heather. And I’ve never felt that way about anyone since. I know that it must have been a shock to find out about her but to not say anything. I have tried to let it go, to move on, but seeing him here now, it brings it all back.’ I really hoped I wasn’t going to start crying in the middle of the pub.

  ‘We should go,’ Heather said, firmly. ‘You shouldn’t have
to be in the same room as that man.’ She got up and pulled on her coat, so I did the same, feeling dazed. I looked over at Drew’s back, wondering what he was thinking about seeing me here. Was he not curious about Izzy at all? Did he really hate me that much that he didn’t care at all about his daughter?

  I knew that I should be angry and upset, but mostly I was confused. The boy I had loved all those years before would never have treated me like that.

  I let Heather lead me out of the pub. I saw Rory notice and as we walked through the door, I glanced back and caught Drew turning around to watch us go. Our eyes met for a moment, and I thought he might be about to call out something, but then the door closed behind me, and he was gone.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Mum, are you alive?’

  I opened one of my eyes and groaned. Izzy was leaning over me, frowning at my lifeless form under the duvet.

  ‘You made a noise, so you’re alive,’ she said, climbing up to perch on the bed. She patted my arm. ‘It’s ten o’clock and everyone is asking where you are.’

  I bet they were. I opened the other eye and groaned again. ‘Come here,’ I said, pulling Izzy down to hug her. She squealed.

  ‘What’s that?’ she asked as something slid off the bed. She pulled away to pick it up. ‘A photo album?’

  Heather had wanted me to go back to her house, but I wanted to be alone, so I’d gone back to the Hall and ended up staying up into the early hours drinking too much of my dad’s whisky. I hadn’t been up that late drinking for years, and my head was not thanking me for it today. When I’d finally got to bed, I’d been too wired to sleep, running everything that happened over and over in my mind. I’d pulled out my old photo album from the bottom of the wardrobe and ended up falling asleep with it on my lap.

  I watched as Izzy opened the album. ‘From when I was a teenager,’ I said, my voice croaky. Izzy began flicking through the photos. I couldn’t help but watch her, thinking of Drew. She really did look like him.

  ‘Who are they?’ she asked, pointing to a photo of me in my school uniform, arms draped around three other people at school. ‘Wait is that…?’ She trailed off, recognising her father.

  I nodded. ‘That’s me, Heather, your father and his friend.’ I was never happier than when I was hanging out with them. They were my refuge. I had taken a couple of photos with me to London, so already Izzy had seen what her father looked like, but there were so many more in the photo album and she now looked with interest at them all. Drew’s smile from the previous night was playing on my mind. Their smiles were so similar.

  ‘What was he like?’ she asked then as we looked at one of me and Drew at a school dance. He looked smart in a suit borrowed from Rory, and I was wearing an expensive blue dress my mum had bought for me.

  I tried to stop my heart from aching as I thought back to who he was then, but it was impossible. ‘He was funny and kind, very loyal; he always looked out for me back then. He was just easy and fun to be with. He was my best friend.’ I wondered how the two people in that photo could have become such strangers. My teenage self would have been devastated if she had known how estranged we would become.

  ‘Did he come to this house a lot?’

  ‘Not too often. My family didn’t really like my friends. They wanted me to socialise with the children of their friends, and I hated them all.’ I smiled at her. ‘You know me, I wanted to do everything my parents told me not to.’ Including having you, I added silently to myself. ‘Right then, I better have a shower, and I need a lot of coffee and maybe some bacon.’

  She looked at me. ‘You’re hungover, aren’t you? Granny said you probably were; that’s why you were still in bed.’

  I sighed. I wished my mum wouldn’t say bad things about me to Izzy. ‘I just had a couple of drinks, but it was a late night so that’s why I slept in. Anyway, we have a lot to do today. It’s tree decorating time!’

  Izzy grinned. ‘I can’t wait!’

  I smiled at her excitement, pleased I’d persuaded Mum to let us do this. We would have a good day, I thought, despite the cloud from last night still hanging over me. I would make sure of it. ‘Want to stay here until I’m ready?’

  Izzy nodded and tucked herself up under the duvet with the photos. I wished she could have known her father back then. He had obviously changed beyond recognition now. It was for the best she didn’t know him, I decided, as I headed to the bathroom; but even as I told myself that, the hurt from him not even asking about her last night refused to budge from my chest. It had settled there, making it hard to take a deep breath. I had been confused last night and now I was angry. For Izzy and for the girl who had loved him so much back then. We both deserved better. That I knew for sure.

  All I could hope was that I wouldn’t run into him again while we were in Glendale.

  * * *

  Slade blasted out of my iPhone as the smell of cookies in the oven filled the kitchen. Sally was supervising Izzy and me as we baked cookies ready for our afternoon of festive decorating.

  We had made our signature chocolate chip cookies, but we needed Sally’s help to work out the Aga. She decided to make some shortbread, so we had the full Christmas biscuit assortment.

  Mum had come down after seeing to Gran, her face barely hiding her disapproval at the mess she found the kitchen, and us, in. Baking always got very messy when Izzy and I were around. Flour was smeared across my face and Izzy had a piece of dough stuck to her elbow, but that was the fun of baking, wasn’t it? And eating a bit of the raw cookie dough too. To which my mum practically self-combusted when she saw us.

  ‘Right, while they bake let’s go and get all the decorations,’ I said, going to the sink with Izzy so we could wash up.

  ‘John has brought the boxes down from the loft and put them in the hall,’ Mum said.

  ‘Excellent. We can choose what we want to put on the tree then, Iz.’

  ‘At least colour coordinate,’ Mum muttered. ‘I’m going to get a drink.’

  ‘No need, Sally has made mulled wine,’ I replied, ignoring her colour comment. I wasn’t going to let her suck the fun out of this for us. ‘And hot chocolate for you,’ I added to Izzy who beamed at me. She brought a mug over to Sally to pour her drink in, and I grabbed two glasses for me and mum. At least she had no disapproving comment to make about mulled wine – she never turned down alcohol. Sally said that she’d bring us the cookies when they were ready.

  ‘Let’s go!’ Izzy cried, leading the way out of the kitchen. Chuckling I followed, with Mum behind me walking more reluctantly.

  I loved to see Christmas through Izzy’s eyes. I didn’t use to be excited about it even when she was little. Being on my own, all I could think about was making sure I had enough money for her presents, though I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what was happening at Glendale Hall. We always spent the day at Emily’s parents’ house, but it was hard not to think of my own family. My parents usually came down Christmas week to see us for lunch, but it wasn’t the same, which is why I started to come up with so many traditions for me and Izzy. I wanted to make sure neither of us felt the hole of my missing family, that we always had a special holiday.

  The tree took up most of the entrance hall, rising up to almost touch the ceiling. Boxes of decorations waited on the floor and Izzy got stuck straight in, sitting on the floor, crossing her legs and rifling through them. The scent of pine needles filled the room sending me right back to my childhood with a nostalgic bang.

  ‘Lights first,’ I reminded Izzy, showing her which box housed them. At home, Izzy liked multi-coloured lights, but I knew that we only had white lights at Glendale: my mother thought coloured ones were gaudy. The lights had been expertly wound by the professional decorators the previous year making it easy for us to drape them around the tree. John returned with a stepladder to put them on the top half of the tree.

  Once the lights were all up, Sally came in with the cookies, which were delicious and even my mum had one. Izzy gathered
up the decorations she wanted to use, and we stood around the tree to hang them. John and Sally joined in and my mum directed us to make sure we spaced them evenly. Izzy chose all the sparkly ones, so the tree was soon glittering with gold.

  ‘Remember this one?’ I held one up to show my mum. We had made them at my school when I was about Izzy’s age. It was an angel covered in glitter. I remembered being so proud of it. I was crushed when I realised that it hadn’t been used on the tree because ‘it didn’t match anything’. ‘I made it at school,’ I added when she looked blank.

  ‘Oh, you made so many things; they were always sending you home with something that I had to try to find a place for.’

  ‘Let’s put it on the tree!’ Izzy took it from me, excited to be holding something I had made, while I faced my mum, feeling the hurt I had felt all over again. And a buzz from the mulled wine.

  ‘I’m sorry I was such an inconvenience,’ I snapped. I felt Sally’s and John’s eyes on us. ‘Kids make things, you know, and are excited to bring them home. All I wanted was to hang my angel on my Christmas tree.’ I turned to see Izzy hanging it right in the centre. God, I loved her. ‘Only took twenty years,’ I added, under my breath.

  ‘I’m sorry I was such a disappointing mother,’ Mum hissed from behind me. When I turned to reply, she was stalking out of the room.

  ‘Mum, what do you think?’

  I took a breath and walked over to Izzy. ‘It looks beautiful.’

  ‘Does Granny not like it?’ she asked, noticing she had gone.

  ‘She’s gone to check on your great-gran. You’re doing a brilliant job.’ I felt a lump rise up in my throat and I tried to force on a smile for my daughter’s sake, because that’s what you did for your kids at this time of year. So, why was it so hard for Caroline Williams to do the same?

  ‘Why have we never come here before?’ Izzy asked me then.

  ‘London is a long way away,’ I replied, passing her an ornament to hang.

  Izzy looked at me, eyebrow raised. ‘Mum, I’m not a kid.’