Marianne smiled quizzically at Julia.
‘Sicily’s a big place. It’s about the same size as Wales. You would have to be really lucky to bump into someone you knew there,’ Brian continued, with his back to the kitchen table.
Julia felt herself blushing. She stared down at the table, noticing a few stray grains of rice on the table cloth. She picked them up and deposited them on her side plate.
‘Julia! You saw him, didn’t you?’ Marianne said, leaning forward and staring hard at Julia.
Brian turned round from the fridge and looked at them.
‘Whoops! Have I said something wrong?’
Julia looked up at him and despite her embarrassment, couldn’t help but smile.
‘Oh my God. What happened? Something happened! Oh Lord, get me a drink,’ Marianne said, flapping her hand urgently in Brian’s direction.
Julia covered her face with her hands.
‘You’re such a witch,’ she said to Marianne.
‘No I’m not; I have just learned to read your face.’ Marianne replied, drawing circles in the air around her own face. ‘Every emotion, is written as clear as day. I knew you’d been hiding something. I just didn’t know what. I thought you may have hooked up with that writer fellow.’
Brian handed Marianne her drink and took a seat back at the table. Marianne tried to wave him away.
‘No, I’m staying to hear this!’ Brian said, grinning at Julia, who groaned in despair.
Julia walked over to the kitchen door and closed it and then sat down again. She picked up her glass of wine, brought it to her lips but put it down untouched, with an air of resignation.
‘OK, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell a single soul.’
‘Cross my heart!’ Marianne said, miming drawing a cross over her chest and looking pointedly at Brian, who nodded seriously.
‘You remember I told you I had dinner with Tony and some of his friends on my first night in Sicily?’
Marianne nodded.
‘Well, one of them was an architect; he’s German, but he works in Sicily, and we got to talking about architecture in Shetland and he mentioned he would love to speak to Cameron about his famous eco-home, as he’d read about it in a magazine. When I said I knew Cameron he asked for his email address which I gave him.’
Julia took a sip of wine, remembering the conversation with Jürgen and wondering if she now regretted joining Tony and his friends for dinner.
‘Anyway, I thought nothing of it, but a week later Cameron rang me and said he had spoken to Jürgen and had been invited over to Sicily. He had just booked his flight and wanted to know where I was staying and whether I could recommend a hotel.’
Brian suppressed a smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
‘Anyway, I said he may as well stay with me since I had a spare room. So he turned up the next day. And it was fine. It was actually nice to see him, as I had spent quite a few days on my own, so it was great to have company. I went to Palermo with him the next day while he had his meeting and did some shopping. Then afterwards we went back and cooked dinner and sat around talking.’
‘He’s such a crafty bastard!’ Brian said, interrupting Julia.
Julia shook her head, trying to stop Brian from jumping to the wrong conclusion.
‘Shut up; let her talk!’ Marianne said, glaring at her husband.
‘Anyway, to say thanks for helping him get this new contract Cameron wanted to take me out for the day. And it was the day of my birthday, although I hadn’t reminded him. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it, but I heard him go out early in the morning and when I got up I saw he had left me a note saying he had to pop into town. I just assumed he needed to go to the bank or something. But he bought me a huge bouquet of flowers and some lovely pastries for breakfast.’
‘How sweet of him,’ Marianne said, smiling meaningfully at Brian.
‘He’d seen on Facebook it was my birthday.’ Julia closed her eyes for a moment. She could still see the flowers in her mind. She smiled at the memory.
‘So where did he take you for your day out?’ Marianne said. She stood up to help herself to more Limoncello.
‘We didn’t go anywhere…’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t really want to say any more.’
‘Why? What happened?’ Marianne demanded.
‘What do you think?’ Julia said, holding her head and looking even more embarrassed.
‘I really ought to start buying more flowers,’ Brian said, grinning at Julia and Marianne.
‘No!’ Marianne shouted, rushing back to the table. ‘You didn’t!’
‘We did.’
‘Oh my God. I can’t believe he tried it on with you,’ Brian said.
‘It wasn’t Cameron’s fault. But in my defence, I was feeling lonely. It was exactly six months after Duncan died, and I was kind of demented. I just launched myself at him; poor man.’
‘Poor man; don’t give me that rubbish. I bet he didn’t try to resist.’ Marianne said sternly.
‘He did actually. He was really sweet.’
Marianne made another attempt to get Brian to leave the kitchen. She wanted to hear all the juicy details, but Brian refused to leave, and Julia felt her shame was so great it didn’t matter if one more person heard. It would save Marianne repeating it to him later. She knew they didn’t keep any secrets from each other.
Julia told them about the few days she had spent with Cameron but then finished by saying she had barely heard from him since.
‘How do you feel now?’ Marianne said.
‘I just feel guilty, and so stupid. And now he’s getting back together with Laura, I feel a bit shabby. Suppose he tells her?’
‘You’ve done nothing to feel guilty about,’ Brian said. ‘Do you really think Duncan would have wanted you to be on your own forever?’
‘No; but I don’t think he would have expected me to have a fling with someone in less than a year. Especially one of our friends. How would you feel Brian?’
Brian grinned at Marianne. He reached over and squeezed his wife’s hand.
‘Marianne would be checking out all the single men at my funeral.’
‘I would not! That’s a horrible thing to say,’ Marianne replied seriously, but winking at Julia.
Brian laughed at her.
Julia reached for her handbag and took her phone out. She found a text message Cameron had sent her over two weeks ago and showed it to Marianne, who frowned with disappointment. Brian leaned in to look at it. He shrugged.
‘It doesn’t mean anything at all. Why do you women get so hung up on the small stuff?’
‘I don’t know; it just seems so formal. It’s like there was nothing between us.’
Marianne nodded sympathetically.
‘So do you want anything to happen?’
‘I don’t think so; no. It’s too soon. I don’t know what I was thinking.’ Julia put her phone back in her bag and then covered her face with her hands and groaned out loud. ‘Oh God, I just don’t want to see him again for a while. I want to forget it ever happened.’
The kitchen door opened and Ivan popped his head in and looked at everyone.
‘Can we come in?’
‘Yes of course love. Is Rachel ready for something to eat now?’
Ivan opened the door wider and Rachel appeared behind him, carrying Charlie who was awake again.
Marianne jumped up from her chair and gestured for Rachel to sit down. Then she went over to the oven and took out a plate of food that had been kept warm, and set it down in front of Rachel and then fetched a glass of water with ice.
Julia watched Marianne fussing around her daughter-in-law and smiled to herself. She was glad she had come over to see Marianne, even if it had led to her confessing her secret. The kitchen was warm and cosy and filled with the happy sounds of family life. Marianne had Charlie in her arms again and was cooing happily at him. Rachel was eating her dinner and Ivan and
Brian had started talking about football. Sophie and Isobel wandered back to the kitchen and went to the freezer to find ice-creams and then stopped to look at their new nephew, teasing their brother about how the baby was too good looking to be his.
This normal, noisy, busy kitchen, filled with people, was what Julia missed. She had missed her boys when they had gone off to university, and that hole in her life had opened up to the size of a crater now Duncan had gone. She thought about her conversation with Tony, about what she was going to do next and she realised with a renewed sense of clarity it was the right choice for her.
‘I forgot to tell you my other news,’ Julia said to Marianne, who looked up in surprise. ‘I’ve decided to apply to be a foster carer. I don’t want to go back to the care home after all. I want to look after children instead.’
‘Good for you; you’d be a great foster mum,’ Brian said.
‘Really? Are you sure? It can be quite tough sometimes. You could get some really difficult children to look after. It can be very stressful,’ Marianne said.
‘I know; but it can’t be more stressful than sitting with somebody’s granny or grandpa while they’re really poorly.’
Marianne shook her head doubtfully.
‘Well, anyway, I’m going to apply. It takes months to go through the process, and who knows, I might not be accepted. And I have plenty of time to change my mind.’
‘Of course they’ll accept you. You would be perfect. A nurse, professional carer, great mother, big family home, a secure environment and you’re definitely not doing it just for the money.’
Julia smiled an acknowledgement. When Marianne put it like that, she realised she probably would be a suitable applicant. She looked at the people sitting around the large kitchen table and wondered whether she would soon have this again in her own home.
16
Over the next few weeks Julia kept herself busy. She made an appointment with a social worker in the fostering and adoption team. She had never met the social worker before, as Miranda had only just moved up to Shetland from Manchester. However, Miranda was very helpful and positive about Julia’s application. Her only reservation was connected to Julia’s recent bereavement. Miranda wondered whether it was too soon to make such a decision, but conceded the point the process would take a few months in any case.
Julia put a lot of energy into avoiding Cameron. She was hardly ever at home as she had decided to do up Alice’s old croft house, now the tenants had moved out. It needed a thorough clean, and redecoration. She had given in to pressure from her sons not to sell the house, so she decided she would rent it out again and use the money to put towards helping the boys buy property in Edinburgh.
She employed two young men, who had just finished their training at Shetland College, to help refit the kitchen and a new bathroom. They helped her paint the whole house inside and out. They sanded the floors and re-varnished them, and Julia bought new curtains, rugs and light fittings. Within a few weeks the house looked bright, fresh and welcoming.
Julia decided to wait until after Christmas before advertising it for rent. She wanted to show Jamie and Bryden what she had done to the house before anyone moved in. Christmas was just a couple of weeks away, and she wasn’t sure whether to look forward to it or to dread its arrival. She couldn’t wait to see the boys, who would be arriving home on the 22nd December; but she knew this would be a difficult first Christmas without their dad.
The day before they were due home, she went to the supermarket late in the evening to avoid the crush of shoppers. She took a large trolley with the intention of stocking up for the holidays. The turkey and meat had been ordered from the butcher already, so she just needed fresh fruit and vegetables and other bits and pieces to spoil her sons.
She was pushing the trolley past the drinks aisle when she decided to buy some tins of beer for the boys. She had plenty of wine and spirits in the house, but they tended not to drink that. She was studying the packs of beer trying to remember what brand they drank, when she felt someone standing close to her. She looked round and saw Cameron.
‘Hello,’ he said quietly, smiling at her.
‘Hi. How are you?’
‘Great. I see you’re getting the Christmas shopping in. Are Jamie and Bryden home yet?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘That’s good. I bet you can’t wait.’
Julia smiled and nodded. ‘It will be a bit strange this year,’ she replied.
‘Yes it will. But at least you’ll all be together.’
‘What about you? I heard you and Laura are back together.’
Cameron shook his head and frowned.
‘No, wherever did you hear that?’
‘Um, well, Marianne said Laura and John had split up, and that …’
Julia stopped, realising Marianne had never actually said anything conclusive about them getting back together. It was just an assumption.
‘No, we’re not back together. That’s definitely not going to happen,’ Cameron said.
A couple with an overfilled trolley tried to squeeze past them in the aisle and Cameron stepped closer to Julia to get out of their way. He pushed Julia’s trolley to the side and held on to the edge, effectively trapping her, against the shelves.
‘You look great,’ he said, after a fraction of time that was just beginning to feel like an awkward silence.
‘I’ve been busy doing up Alice’s old house,’ Julia said, not knowing how to respond to his compliment. She looked at Cameron. Under his bulky winter jacket, he was wearing a navy Aran jumper and dark jeans. His hair was freshly cut, shorter than normal, which made him look quite youthful.
‘Is everything alright?’ Cameron looked directly into Julia’s eyes. ‘I haven’t heard much from you since…’
‘Yes of course. I just didn’t know what to say to you, especially when I heard about Laura. I mean, we never…’
Cameron leaned in closer.
‘This isn’t the best place to talk.’
‘No, it’s not,’ Julia agreed.
Cameron looked at his watch and frowned.
‘It’s a bit late now, otherwise I would suggest going for a drink, but you probably want to get home.’
Julia nodded and looked down at her full trolley.
‘I’m driving down to the airport tomorrow afternoon. I could drop by on my way.’
‘Yes; do that,’ Cameron said, his eyes lighting up with pleasure. ‘Come along in the morning if you like. I’ll make us some lunch, and I can tell you all the news about the Sicilian project. I’m still at my mum’s old house.’
Julia smiled and nodded.
‘See you tomorrow then.’
Julia watched him walk away in the direction of the check-outs. She turned her attention back to the beer and put two slabs of lager into the trolley.
Later that evening she poured herself a glass of red wine, carried it into the lounge and switched on the Christmas tree lights. The solid fuel burner in the corner of the room was still glowing, but the warmth had diminished so she opened the door and threw in some lumps of dried peat and shut the door. The house was cosy and smelt of Christmas, thanks to the real tree, and the mulled wine scented candles she had bought a few days ago.
She sat down on the sofa without switching the television on. The fire crackled and a large old-fashioned carriage clock ticked on the bookcase. Rain lashed against the window and the wind was picking up.
Julia thought about Cameron. It had been less awkward seeing him than she had imagined. She felt rather foolish for avoiding him for so long, and realised she had built the whole episode into a much bigger drama than perhaps it warranted.
She thought back to the crazy conversation she had had with Tony when she had tried mapping out her future as if she was the heroine of a novel. She tried to imagine Tony narrating the story of what had happened to her since she had left Sicily, but gave up when she realised it was too dull to be included in a book. He really would have killed he
r off a few chapters ago, and even the detective trying to solve the murder mystery would have had trouble remembering her name. She remembered the female character they had invented, Rebecca Sherry, the mountain rescue worker. She sounded much more glamorous and exciting. She wouldn’t have wasted a moment worrying about what people thought of her, dithering about what to do with the rest of her life, and full of self-pity. She would have been too busy rescuing people, and was probably a bit of an eco-warrior in her spare time, campaigning for the reintroduction of wolves into Scotland. Julia imagined a beautiful young woman sitting in a mountain lodge, wearing jeans, walking boots and a chunky fleece, having a pint with some of her rescue team after a successful mission. The men in Rebecca’s team were young and hunky and they all adored her; although Rebecca was happily married to a helicopter pilot. Julia wanted to be Rebecca Sherry.
She finished her glass of wine, and decided against having another, since she was clearing losing the plot. Imagining she was a fictional heroine was ridiculous. Then again, maybe she could learn something from this. She still had time to change the direction of her life. She might not be able to take up mountain rescue, not least because there were no mountains in Shetland, but she could start to become more of a star in her own life story.
She would start by making this a brilliant Christmas for her sons. They would rise above the sadness and have a great time. It was what Duncan would have wanted. It had always been his favourite time of year.
Julia went to bed thinking about what she could do to spoil her sons. She had already bought them presents, which were sitting under the tree, but she planned to do something else too; maybe organise a party so they could invite their friends round. She was so busy thinking about that, she didn’t give any more thought to seeing Cameron again.
The next morning Julia woke up with a great sense of excitement, the way she always did when her boys were coming home. She leapt out of bed and headed for the bathroom, pausing only to touch the photograph of Duncan she had hung on the wall above her chest of drawers.
Learning to Dance Again Page 18