Andy’s poem is to come after the minister’s review of May’s life. He sits clutching his piece of paper as he listens to her story. The minister concludes, ‘May was a hundred and ten years old when she died and starting to feel her age just towards the end, but she never lost her sense of humour or her kind heart. She was generous to the last.’
At this, a few heads turn to look at Emily, but she carries on staring straight ahead, and only a slight tightening of her fingers betray how much she must be hating the inmates of Pengelly knowing her business. Word has once again spread and everyone seems to know that she’s the new owner of Shangri-La.
Andy squeezes Emily’s hand and stands up to do his bit. His legs are shaking now, and he takes deep breaths as he walks to the pulpit. Luckily, May’s not chosen the poem his mother had picked to read for Allie – the one about death being nothing at all. Death had felt like a bloody big something at that time. Now, though, with May’s passing, it seems a lot less scary. He reads Joyce Grenfell’s famous last lines:
Weep if you must.
Parting is hell.
But life goes on.
So sing as well.
There are a few tears now, and he sees the flutter of tissues in the congregation as they stand to sing another of May’s favourites, the one about being in peril on the sea. It’s a familiar one in a coastal village, and everyone knows the words.
After a short reading, which May has graciously allowed the vicar to choose, they stand for the next hymn. May’s chosen well. ‘Who Would True Valour See’ is all about danger and giants and hobgoblins. It’s Tamsin’s favourite, too, because she thinks it’s about hobbits. Then there are some prayers and a reminder about coming to The Shack and it’s time for the final hymn, which is what May used to call ‘a big screen belter’. Everyone stands to sing ‘Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah’, and if the rafters were shaken during the first hymn, this one nearly raises the roof. Afterwards they file out after the coffin, and Andy loads Emily, Tristram and Julia into his car to follow the hearse to the crematorium.
By the time they get back from the simple committal with just the four of them and the minister, the party at The Shack is in full swing. A cheer goes up as they walk in, and champagne glasses are thrust into their hands. Andy grins down at Emily. ‘I might have to leave my car here. How do you feel about a walk back along the beach?’
‘In these shoes?’ She indicates her spindly heels and giggles. ‘I’ll take my tights off and go barefoot. Julia can get a lift with one of her buddies. No problem, this is a day for bubbly and gin.’
They stick together for a little while as Julia plunges into the crowd to greet old friends.
‘It’s so good to see Gran feeling sociable again,’ says Emily. ‘I was beginning to think she’d had the best of her life and this last part wasn’t going to be any fun at all.’
The pasties and mash come out soon after this, and everyone jostles for places at the tables. Some are left standing, trying to manage a glass, plate, fork and so on. Tristram can’t have expected this many people to arrive, but the combination of flowing booze, great food and the genuine desire to pay tribute to Pengelly’s oldest resident has filled The Shack to bursting point.
The party rolls on, gaining momentum as it goes. Andy spends a lot of his time trying to avoid Candice. She’s wearing a dress that doesn’t leave much to the imagination, as May would have said. Her eyes seem to be on him wherever he goes, and several times she nearly manages to squeeze in next to him at one or other of the tables, but he keeps on the move. He decides to slide off after a couple of hours so Vi can go home, remembering just in time that he’d promised to take a food parcel home for Tamsin and her faithful minder. He’s lost sight of Emily, but when he goes to search for leftover pasties, he finds her sitting on a worktop in the kitchen chatting nineteen to the dozen with Gina.
‘Is it OK if I make a doggy bag for Tam and Vi?’ Andy asks Gina.
‘Of course. Here, let me do it. What do they like?’
‘Anything and everything. Are you ready to go, Emily?’ Andy asks. ‘I don’t mind if you want to stay but Vi’s going to be ready for a break by now.’
‘Oh, stay a bit longer, Em,’ says Gina. ‘We’ve got things to talk about. Vince will get you a cab home with your gran later. She’s having way too much fun to tear her away yet.’
They look across and see Julia, nose to nose with Tristram, arguing about some long-ago detail involving who married whom in 1973.
‘I’ll hang on here, Andy, if you don’t mind? I want to make sure she gets home safely. I’ll see you tomorrow?’
Just as Emily says this, Candice rushes up. ‘Are you going, sweetie? Can I have a lift? I’ve got to pick up Summer.’
Andy can feel the frost in Emily’s gaze as she looks Candice up and down from the lofty height of her worktop. ‘What a shame – he isn’t driving,’ she says, ‘and you don’t look as if you’re dressed for a hike along the beach.’
Candice looks down at her strappy gold stilettos, which are even higher than Emily’s. ‘Oh, that’s no problem,’ she says, swaying slightly. ‘I’m always happier barefoot. Come on, Andy, it’ll be like old times.’ She looks up at Emily. ‘We used to play on the beach when we were kids, didn’t we, sweetie? And when we were teenagers, come to think of it.’ She snorts. Andy flinches.
Candice kicks off her shoes, picks them up and links arms with Andy. ‘Right, I’m ready. We poor, hard-done-to parents have got to stick together, haven’t we?’
Andy makes a non-committal noise, knowing Emily’s icy glare is on him now. How is he going to wriggle out of this one?
‘Our days of drinking all afternoon and into the night have long gone, haven’t they, hun? Don’t worry, though, I’ve got a nice chilled bottle of prosecco waiting in my fridge – you can collect Tam and bring her over to mine,’ says Candice, knocking another nail into Andy’s fragile new relationship with Emily. ‘The night is young, as they say. She can have a sleepover, like last time.’
She giggles again and puts her hand over her mouth as if suddenly realising she’s said too much.
Emily jumps down from the worktop and makes to leave the room. ‘Well, don’t let me delay you,’ she says. ‘It sounds like you two have got a whole lot to catch up on. But I wouldn’t hold your breath if you’re waiting for a happy ending, Candice. Women like you were created to keep divorce lawyers in business.’
She stalks out of the kitchen. Gina follows, shooting a look at Andy that clearly says, You haven’t heard the last of this, mate.
‘Oh dear. Did I say something wrong?’ Candice is all big worried eyes now.
‘You know exactly what you did there, don’t you? Look, if you need a lift home, here’s a tenner for a taxi.’ Andy gets out his wallet and throws a note at her. ‘I’m off.’
He picks up his food parcel, which Gina has put in a cloth bag, slings it over his shoulder, and leaves as fast as he can, without even saying goodbye to Tristram. Emily’s got her back to him, and she’s talking animatedly to one of Vince’s friends from up north. As he trudges back along the shore, Andy’s heart is heavy. To have so nearly found his perfect woman and then have her snatched away from him, all because of one stupid night when he’d let his guard down? He can’t let that happen. But Emily’s so on edge, after all that’s happened to her lately. How is he ever going to win her back now?
The tide’s coming in now and it’s starting to rain again. Andy puts his hands in his pockets and speeds up. He’ll get Tamsin to bed as early as possible, and then he can make a plan. It’d better be a good one, that’s all, or the lovely warm feelings that have been growing between him and Emily will be over before they’ve even begun.
He’s stomping along so forcefully that at first he doesn’t hear Emily shouting his name, but as soon as he realises she’s tearing after him, Andy turns, amazed. There she is, hair streaming behind her, carrying her shoes and almost breathless in her haste to reach him.
In
stinctively, Andy opens his arms and she runs into them, wrapping herself around him and hugging him tightly. For a moment they stand quite still, as Emily’s heartbeat slows to nearer normal and Andy’s speeds up to match it.
‘I’m sorry for being so grumpy,’ says Emily, eventually. ‘I had a sort of epiphany in there. It was as if I heard May telling me to stop being such a baby and take action. So I did.’
‘You did what?’ Andy still can’t quite believe she’s here.
‘I went and got a fresh glass of red wine – the biggest one I could find – and then I threw it all over Candice.’
‘You didn’t?’
‘I did. I feel a lot better now.’
They’re both laughing so much that it’s almost impossible for Andy to kiss her, but he manages it at last.
Some while later, when they can breathe again, they link hands and begin to walk home. Whose home it will be isn’t clear yet, but Andy finds he really doesn’t care, just as long as Emily carries on holding his hand and smiling that smile at him.
Chapter Forty-Six
Tristram and Julia sit on the porch swing watching the tide come in. Most of the funeral guests have gone home, and the last few are in the kitchen helping Gina and Vince with the tidying up. Julia’s been flagging for a while, but a cup of coffee and a brandy are doing a lot to put the life back into her tired bones. Getting old isn’t much fun on the whole, she thinks. Julia wants to feel the urge to go for a paddle, or dance till dawn, or even try skinny dipping. Instead, she leans back on the soft cushions and lets the brandy warm her.
‘You look so beautiful, and I’ve hardly seen you today,’ says Tristram, taking the hand that isn’t clutching the brandy balloon glass. ‘What a waste.’
‘Well, you have been rather busy. What a wonderful goodbye you organised for May.’
‘It’s been nearly as good as the eightieth birthday bash. Talking of which, when I came in to my party that night, was my surprised look convincing enough?’
She laughs softly, squeezing his hand. ‘It didn’t fool me, but I think you got away with it. How did you guess?’
‘I intercepted a phone call from one of our suppliers trying to arrange a delivery of champagne. Gina said it must have been a mistake but then I started to look for clues and I twigged what they were planning. Very sweet of them.’
‘And nice of you to pretend you didn’t know about it.’
‘But you didn’t fall for my act. You know me too well, don’t you?’
Julia leans against his shoulder and wonders where this is heading. Is she ready for Tristram to take them on to the next logical step? There’s nothing either logical or sensible about the way she feels tonight, though. The light breeze is faintly warm. It’s been a sad day in many ways, as goodbyes always are, but Tristram has made May’s funeral a joyous celebration of her life. He’s a very special man, that’s for sure. Julia’s heart is racing now. What would Don say about all this? She changes the subject, playing for time.
‘Are you going to tell me what you were talking to Emily about at your party now? I’ve been waiting patiently to find out. Come on, let’s have it.’
‘Ah. I wanted to run something past her.’
‘Oh?’
‘She’ll tell you all about my plans tomorrow, I’m sure, but in a nutshell, I asked her to think about the future. I couldn’t let on she was going to get May’s cottage at that stage but I asked her if she’d consider joining me in my new project. I want to open a retreat.’
‘You’re kidding. Not some sort of bean sprouts and alfalfa place like that one up the coast?’
‘No, my idea is more about starting something in May’s honour.’
‘I’m not with you.’ Julia’s exhausted mind is struggling with this. Why can’t he just spell it out? She’s too tired for guessing games.
‘I asked Emily if she’d think about helping me set up a place where people who’re suffering from short-term memory loss, or early-onset dementia and suchlike can come to get some peace. With a companion – someone who needs help learning how to help and to cope. I haven’t really thought it all through yet; it’s early days. I kind of hoped you’d help with the fine tuning.’
Julia lets this idea wash over her. She lets her mind drift back in time to all the occasions when she’s been at the same functions as May over the years, sometimes circling each other like wary animals ready to pounce, but more often just ignoring each other. What a stupid waste of time and friendship. She remembers one occasion where an elderly gentleman from the sheltered housing in the next village was visiting Pengelly and was brought to a church social by his daughter. She plonked him down next to May, who was organising a tombola with her usual efficiency, and after a few moments, Julia noticed that as May was folding up tickets with the vital numbers on for the prize draw, the old man was taking them out and unwrapping them, dropping them on the floor with glee.
Julia was about to intervene, fearing an explosion of rage from May, when the older woman spotted what was going on and started to chuckle. She took the man gently by the elbow and led him away to find somewhere he could be more usefully occupied, finally finding him a bowl of soapy water to wash his hands and settling him in a corner with a blunt knife to butter some cobs.
May noticed Julia watching her as she returned to start her job all over again. ‘What are you looking at?’ she asked, rather sharply.
Julia felt wrong-footed and, trying to show sympathy for the muddle, muttered something about the old man being a nuisance, which wasn’t what she meant to say at all. May frowned at her.
‘It’s good for the chap to have some company for a change,’ she said. ‘His daughter says he hardly sees a soul unless she visits. I don’t mind a bit of mess. The old boy’s a bit confused. It’ll come to us all, I shouldn’t wonder.’
May turned back to her task, effectively shutting Julia out when she was on the point of offering to help. Just one more occasion when they missed being friends.
She ponders on Tristram’s plan. It’s a good one, and worthy of May. But Julia is eighty-five. How long can she rely on her own grey matter?
‘This is a subject very close to my heart at the moment,’ she says slowly, wondering how much to divulge without scaring Tristram away. ‘I’ve really been struggling since Don died; getting so forgetful it’s quite terrified me at times. I … I could get much worse and end up needing help myself.’
‘Let’s hope it won’t come to that, but if it does, we’ll face it together. I’ve thought a lot about the effects of dementia, too. Both my dad and my grandmother ended up like that. I know it isn’t genetic but I worry it’ll get me one day.’
‘Not necessarily, as you say.’
‘But I feel very strongly that sometimes something can be done when the first signs are noticed, not when it’s too late. Emily feels the same.’
‘Because of me?’
‘Probably. But it doesn’t matter why. It turns out she’s as passionate as I am about the whole project. We can make a difference. Not to many people, granted, but in our small way we’ll be contributing.’
‘It’s a beautiful idea. I’ll help all I can, Tris.’
He smiles at her. ‘I hoped you’d say that. Of course, now the cottage might be available, I can move more quickly. It’s the perfect place for a retreat.’
Julia frowns. ‘But surely, Emily will want to live in it. Unless you’re assuming she’ll stay with me, and I don’t see that as her plan somehow.’
‘Well, it’s not going to happen for a while. If she agrees, we can convert the loft as a flat for her anyway. And if everything goes as I expect it to with Andy, she’ll move in with him and Tamsin at some point.’
Julia considers this. ‘You’re being a bit premature, aren’t you?’
‘This is a long-term scheme. If she does go to live with Andy, then the whole cottage will be vacant. If not, she could still live upstairs.’
‘Are you saying you offered to buy 59 Memory Lan
e at some unknown time in the future?’
‘Yes, sort of, but not just buy it – more like buy into it.’
‘Well, you’ve left me a bit breathless and I’m not sure if Emily will want to be pushed upstairs to live above the shop, as it were, but I’ve got to say it all sounds rather marvellous, Tris.’
‘You’re a darling. I talked to May about us, too, you know, not long before she died,’ Tristram says, taking Julia’s hand.
To her it feels comforting, and yet exciting at the same time. Hold on, girl, she tells herself, if you don’t calm down, you’ll not live to see the night out, let alone join in his schemes.
‘Did you? What about us?’
‘I told her I wasn’t a very good bet when it came to women, but that I’d fallen for you in a big way and I wanted to end my days with you.’
‘Not immediately, I hope?’ Julia isn’t ready to talk seriously about death.
‘No. We’ve still got quite a bit of living to do, haven’t we? I just wish I’d met you sooner.’
Julia thinks about the prospect of a future alone. To be with Tristram would be so much better, but she doesn’t want him to think she’s just using him to fill the gap that Don left. This man is far too good for that. The dreams Tristram has woven for them both whirl round in her head.
‘If only we had more time together, my love,’ Tristram says.
Julia reaches for his other hand and turns to look at him. ‘It’s not how much time you have, but what you do with it that matters,’ she says. ‘I learned that from May. I think she made every day count, don’t you? And that’s what we’ll do.’
He smiles at her, and Julia’s heart feels as if it might burst, even though the pang of grief at the thought of never seeing May again or being able to tell her about this moment with Tristram is leaving her breathless.
‘I’d like to go down on one knee but I fear I might never get up. My legs are still a bit creaky after all that jiving I did at my party,’ Tristram says. ‘Julia, will you marry me? Please say yes. If you don’t, I’ll carry on asking you every day of my life until you give in.’
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