by Penny Parkes
She breathed out slowly, trying to follow Cormack’s advice to allow some thoughts to simply pass. Just because she thought something, apparently, didn’t mean she needed to engage with it and allow herself to get worried – it was almost as though he had never met her before!
Holly duly put on the kettle and made the twins a picnic tea, wrapping their food in greaseproof paper and popping the small parcels into a tiny wicker basket. Ever since watching Heidi, they’d been obsessed with acting out scenes in the garden. Picnic time was their all-time favourite. Right now, though, Ben and Tom were lying on their backs as the clouds scudded past in an otherwise azure sky. Their cloud-spotting games were becoming increasingly more anatomical and Holly laughed aloud as she settled down beside them and began doling out crusty bread and slices of ham and cheese, Alpine-style. The babies shifted restlessly in her tummy, as though the sugar hit from the Toblerone she’d virtually inhaled earlier had got them dancing, and she glanced repeatedly at the side gate, poised for Lizzie’s arrival.
She untangled her looping bracelet from the handle of the basket, one of the most beautiful wedding gifts she’d received, all the more so as it had been made with such loving care by Alice herself. Holly couldn’t help thinking that, with creativity like that, Alice might actually be wasted as a doctor. The question as to whether her young colleague was experienced enough to step up when Holly went on maternity leave was one she didn’t dare address right now, for fear of giving her blood pressure an unwelcome boost.
‘Coo-ee!’ called Lizzie, as she pushed open the garden gate, doing her best impression of a nutty neighbour. ‘Anyone for pavlova?’ She wore a Pucci-print kaftan, oversized sunglasses and supported a vast confection on the palm of her hand.
Holly burst out laughing. ‘Oh you are a card! Have you been at the gin again? Abigail’s Party eat your heart out!’
Lizzie pushed back the sunglasses and grinned. ‘What d’you think? Elsie took me shopping! Too much?’
Definitely too much, but then by default, absolutely perfect, thought Holly, standing up and pulling her friend into an enormous hug.
‘Steady there,’ said Lizzie. ‘Let a girl put down her pavlova before you start taking liberties. Now, what’s the matter with you?’
Holly shook her head. ‘Nothing. I just wanted to see you.’
Lizzie raised one perfectly pencilled eyebrow. ‘Hmm . . .’
Eric had trotted sweetly at Lizzie’s side across the garden, sitting down neatly beside her as they said their hellos, with no need for a lead or encouragement.
‘Dear God, how did you do that?’ Holly asked, intrigued, as she clocked this unusual display, well used to being dragged around the town by Eric on a mission.
Lizzie grinned. ‘Aha! I’m glad you noticed. Jamie took pity on me and gave him one-on-one tuition. He reckons that if I apply the same skills to Will, I’ll have him picking up his pants off the floor in no time.’
‘Are you high?’ Holly asked, genuinely perplexed, as she broke off a chunk of pavlova without ceremony and popped it into her mouth.
Lizzie looked delighted to have found a captive audience. In fact, by the time she’d shared Jamie’s pearls of wisdom about how you could train your husband in much the same way as you trained your dog, they were both laughing like drains.
‘So, I just ignore any unwanted behaviour and reward him for anything good?’ Holly clarified, sitting down heavily on the kitchen sofa and plonking her feet up on the ottoman, a plateful of pavlova now balanced on her bump for easy access.
‘So, last night, when Will put the bins out, I offered him a beer. When he left all the plates on the dining table, I ignored it and went to have a bath. I think he might be a work in progress, though, because Eric had, er, prewashed all the plates by the time I came downstairs.’
Holly snorted, knowing only too well Eric’s love of a good curry. Strange dog, but oh she did love him. She couldn’t help wonder how he was going to adapt to two more pairs of tiny hands pulling at his ears and tail. As if in answer to her private concerns and feeling her gaze upon him, he trotted over and lay beside her on the sofa, resting his head on her bump, ears cocked as though he could hear little noises that were beyond the scope of her own hearing. He jolted up after a moment, shocked and surprised at the hearty boot he’d received to his chin, before curling up tightly beside her, guarding her unborn progeny.
‘Well, it looks like we can just hire Eric as the nanny,’ Holly joked, stroking the downy fur behind his ears.
‘Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do about that?’ Lizzie asked. ‘Nanny or locum? I’m presuming something will have to give?’
Holly nodded. ‘I was thinking about it just before you got here. I’d quite like to take some decent maternity leave, actually. Make sure the boys are acclimatised to the babies before I bugger off back to work. In an ideal world I’d take six months off completely and then go back part-time.’ She looked uncomfortable. ‘To be honest, though, all that seems a bit “First World problems” compared to everything we’re dealing with at the moment. Like oh-to-have-the-luxury, you know?’
‘I do,’ said Lizzie. ‘And it’s not as though your mum’s going to fly in on her broomstick and help out, is it now?’ They both snorted with laughter at the very thought.
Holly didn’t like to point out to anyone but Lizzie, who had seen her through thick and thin over the years, how jealous she felt, watching the Jemimas and Emilys of her acquaintance as their hands-on and loving mothers swept in to help navigate those first few tricky weeks. Or indeed, in Jemima’s case, rented a cottage down the lane for six months for the perfect combination of support and space.
‘Taffy’s mum has offered—’ Holly began, before stopping at Lizzie’s open-mouthed expression of surprise.
‘You’re not really considering it, are you?’ Lizzie interrupted.
Holly shrugged. ‘They are her grandchildren. And let’s face it, I’m not really in a position to turn down a little loving support.’ She waved her hand around the room. ‘And we’ve plenty of space now. I keep hoping that maybe this way, my kids might get some grandparents who actually give a damn.’
‘They’re not short of loving,’ scoffed Lizzie. ‘They’ve got me and Will, Elsie has basically made them her own. And I think you gained Dan as family by default when you married the Taffster.’
‘I know,’ said Holly, swallowing the lump that had nestled in her throat. ‘Still—’
‘Still?’
‘Well, it’s not quite the same, is it? Spending all this time with the Preggie Protesters has stirred up a right old hornet’s nest in my head. After all, if a girl can’t turn to her own mum when she’s raising her kids – well, it’s a bloody shame, that’s all.’
‘For her, Holly. She’s the one who’s missing out. Your kids are wonderful. Honestly. And you know me – I bloody hate kids most of the time. But she’s the one who’s missing out. And Milo’s mum too. Both of them, too selfish to look beyond the end of their own noses. If you want my opinion, you’re doing a better job of building your own little family here than you realise. And, yeah, what the hell, let’s get Call-me-Patty installed in the guest room for a bit, while we find you the perfect locum to keep your conscience clear.’
‘That’s what I need,’ said Holly. ‘A clear conscience. I don’t want to feel like I’m letting anyone down.’
‘Pshaw,’ said Lizzie dismissively. ‘This said by the person who spends more time thinking about what other people need than she ever does about what she needs.’
‘It’s a doctor thing,’ Holly protested. ‘Alice is exactly the same. Just look at this whole Coco debacle. She’s been tearing herself into pieces for months trying to do the right thing by everyone.’
‘Does she even know yet that Jamie got offered that job?’ Lizzie asked, worry clouding her face. ‘Will she even cope if he goes?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Holly simply, the Larkford rumour mill as always running a
t warp speed. ‘But I can hardly expect her to pick up my slack if she loses Jamie and Coco at once, now can I?’
Lizzie paused, deep in thought. ‘Maybe it’s just sitting in her kitchen, walking a mile in her shoes so to speak, but did you ever stop to think that Elsie has the right idea, with all her meddling and interfering?’
‘I’m not sure she’d call it that,’ Holly protested.
‘Well hear me out for a minute, yeah? It’s not like either of us are in a position to go marching on Westminster, or to tell Alice what to do, but there’s no reason we can’t still be useful . . . A guiding hand here or there?’
‘What did you have in mind?’ asked Holly, intrigued.
‘Just a few little phone calls,’ said Lizzie innocently, her eyes lighting up with impish delight. ‘What d’you say?’
Chapter 49
Grace stared at the spreadsheet in front of her later that evening. She never thought she’d be grateful to that bastard Jarley, but even she had to admit that these few weeks away from work had been an unexpected bonus – particularly if you ignored the nightmares and the incipient panic attacks that still had a horrible habit of catching her off guard.
Going back to work this week had been more of a challenge than she’d ever thought possible, and she was almost ashamed to admit that the dramas unfolding around them had been a blessing in disguise, forcing her to focus on the job in hand. Knowing that Jarley had been refused bail and was now awaiting trial on six different theft and assault charges should have made her feel safer.
It didn’t.
She still felt hollow on some level she couldn’t quite reach, as though she were a sponge to any negative emotion. There had been something about the naked anguish on Connor Danes’s face that had touched her deeply, as his story had been picked up by every news outlet imaginable and broadcast to the nation. His willingness to be that vulnerable had stayed with her long after the TV and the internet had been switched off for the night.
She scanned down the list of auction donations, unable to put her finger on the source of disconnect. There was no shortage of treasures: paintings, ceramics, memorabilia aplenty. But it was only when she reached the listing next to Lizzie’s name that the penny finally dropped.
One vintage Ralph Lauren trouser suit, limited edition, navy, barely worn.
People weren’t donating the tired things they no longer wanted, she realised; they were donating beloved things of value. Each one a significant contribution to the fund financially, but perhaps more importantly an indication of how much this campaign meant to them and their families. Going to bed at night knowing that there were checks and balances in place to keep you safe if the worst should happen was, after all, practically priceless. And she obviously wasn’t the only one to think so.
Noodle and Doodle were curled up tightly beside her on the sofa and the comfort from their tiny snuffling snores was immeasurable. She dropped a hand to smooth Doodle’s tufty ears away from his face and he moaned and stretched in complaint. How easy it would be, she realised, to become the lady-with-the-dogs. Here she was, still living in the same house in which she had raised her boys and endured her marriage. It would be so easy to just slide into middle age . . .
She glanced at the screen again.
The Major and Marion Waverly: Coronation Waterford decanters – mint condition.
Cassie Holland: Feminist Sculpture number 4 – sculptor unknown.
It was all very well her pushing Alice towards closure on her shopping habits, but was she actually living by her own advice? She was living in a house filled with relics – her sons used their rooms to store childhood trophies, sports kit and instruments, yet rarely came home. Roy’s study door was firmly closed and, whilst there was little if anything of value in there, the very idea of going through his things revolted her on some level – not so much because it would upset her to see all the reminders of the man she had so briefly loved, but more so to see how little she had truly known him.
Her own possessions were sparse. She’d never felt the need to buy more than she needed. Her china mugs and her favourite armchair were perhaps her only indulgence. Fashions came and went, and she rarely had the need for many clothes anyway. Nice yoga kit was perhaps her only vice – well that and computer kit, she conceded. Plain white china and a high-spec router, she smiled to herself. God knows, she could probably move out of this house using only her car and want for nothing.
She stopped dead. Why not? Why not take a risk?
Holly and Taffy were moving on. Alice was finally making strides in the right direction. Even her own relationship with Dan was like a breath of fresh air – unless of course they went back to his flat above the Indian restaurant, whereupon a breath of turmeric and cumin was more likely. She checked her watch; he was running late.
Doodle’s head shot up and he woofed quietly as Dan pushed open the back door. They were already accustomed to his comings and goings in her life and he no longer warranted the full twenty-one-bark salute.
Grace took a deep breath, skipping hello in favour of a leap of faith. There was no time like the present.
‘Let’s move in together,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Ditch all our baggage and make a fresh start.’
He blinked, clearly not the greeting he was anticipating, having turned up half an hour late and without picking up any milk as promised. ‘Okay,’ he said though, barely missing a beat.
‘Not here,’ clarified Grace. ‘Somewhere new. Somewhere that’s ours.’
He walked over to the sofa and deftly scooped Doodle into his arms so there was room to sit down beside her. He grinned. ‘This is going to be brilliant,’ he said.
Grace laughed, this entire staccato conversation somehow managing to convey a world of emotions. ‘Would you think I was mad if I got a house clearance firm in for this place? Most of it isn’t worth moving.’
‘You’re talking to a man whose worldly possessions fit in a Land Rover,’ he said easily. ‘As long as you bring your amazing coffee machine, I’m good. Oh and your new fluffy towels – I’ve grown to appreciate a little fluffy in my life.’
Noodle licked his hand in answer, as though misinterpreting his words.
‘This weekend?’ Grace suggested, fidgeting happily that such a momentous decision could feel so natural and so easy.
‘Sure,’ Dan said. ‘How would you feel about renting Holly and Taffy’s old place for a bit while we work out what we’re looking for? I know it’s not flash, but it has a nice atmosphere, don’t you think?’
‘I think that has more to do with the people living in it,’ Grace replied. ‘It certainly didn’t feel like that when the Magnificent Milo lived there.’
‘True,’ agreed Dan. ‘But I honestly think that wherever we set up camp, it’ll feel like home. Bed, sofa, fridge and we’re done.’
‘I’m liking your priorities there,’ Grace grinned. ‘Are we actually going to do this? I mean, so spontaneously. Some might even say recklessly?’
He paused. ‘Okay then. Let’s think this through. Do you like living here?’
‘Nope,’ said Grace cheerfully. ‘House of horrors. Hate it.’
‘So, even if we fell out over something stupid, you wouldn’t move back?’
‘No, I wouldn’t actually,’ Grace said, giving the matter proper consideration for a moment. ‘I want to sell up. I want to live in a house that’s bright and airy and with space to put down a yoga mat.’
‘Well, for what it’s worth, I travel pretty light since living with Julia. I mean, she cared enough for both of us about rugs and cushions and matching china.’
‘Dan,’ said Grace, her tone serious for a moment, ‘I think you should know that none of my china matches. My bras don’t match my knickers and I always forget to go shopping until there are tumbleweeds rolling through an empty fridge. I am not a domestic goddess.’ She wobbled for a moment, wondering whether this was news to him.
‘Well thank God for that,’ he said with feelin
g. ‘Life’s too short to worry about that kind of bollocks. We need to focus on the important stuff: Radio 2 or Radio 4? Early bird or night owl? Which side of the bed do you like to sleep on?’
Grace grinned. ‘Radio Larkford, permanently exhausted pigeon, wherever there’s space beside you.’
‘Aw,’ teased Dan. ‘I didn’t know you could be all soppy.’
‘Er, hello?’ Grace replied, shaking her head and gesticulating towards the two sleeping dachshunds. ‘Soppy is my new middle name.’
‘And would you like a new surname to go with your new address?’ Dan asked quietly, watching her for a reaction. Being widowed was one thing, giving up your name afterwards might be a step too far.
‘Wing it?’ she replied, leaning in to kiss him and leaving him in no doubt that her lack of haste in accepting his offer, however oblique, had absolutely nothing to do with the depth of her feelings for him.
It felt somewhat adolescent but frankly Grace didn’t care. This didn’t feel like ‘news’ until she’d shared her spontaneous leap of faith with someone and, surprisingly, the person who sprang immediately to mind had been Alice.
After years of living at a remove from those around her, Grace couldn’t help but feel that the last twelve months had brought her metaphorical riches beyond measure. It was as though, by opening up a little to the possibility of another meaningful relationship in her life, she had inadvertently ended up feeling loved and supported on so many levels.
She certainly didn’t feel like a mother to Alice, but there were elements of the ‘big sister’ about their friendship, not to mention the emotional trials and tribulations of tackling Alice’s godawful house, that had thrown them together and strengthened their bond.