Granny Annie certainly was a character, she had bright blue eyes that still retained their sparkle and she wouldn’t be seen dead without her bright red lipstick. She had recently purchased a pair of gold strappy sandals to wear around the house and had proceeded to paint her nails purple, all by herself. Lucy found this unbelievably adorable, and loved her granny even more because of her eccentricity.
‘Granny Annie!’ called Lucy as she neared the bench.
‘Lucy, darling! How did you know where to find me?’ asked Annie.
‘Oh, lucky guess, I suppose!’ laughed Lucy as she bent to kiss her granny’s wrinkled cheek, her skin felt cold from the chilly winter air.
‘How long have you been here?’ Lucy asked. ‘It’s freezing!’
‘Oh not long, darling, you know how I like to come and get some fresh air. I can’t bear being stuck inside all day. But it is jolly cold, feel my fingers! They are numb!’
After a few more minutes spent watching a particularly sweet little boy in dungarees unsuccessfully chase a pigeon down the path next to them, Lucy and Annie set off to the shop around the corner to buy some lunch, arm in arm. They went back to the lovely, warm studio where Annie lived and Lucy heated up some soup. As they ate their lunch they talked about life. Her grandmother had met Alex several times now and, while they had got on well, it was clear to Lucy that Annie hadn’t been as bowled over by his charm as others. However, she seemed happy to hear about them moving in together and Lucy hoped that this demonstration of commitment on Alex’s part would encourage Annie to warm to him a little more. Perhaps she was just being wary of his intentions towards her beloved granddaughter. It was a shame, though, because it was very important to Lucy that her grandmother approved of her other half.
Later, Lucy set off for home. Annie bid her farewell, chanting her customary departing line, ‘Don’t talk to strange people!’ and blowing her kisses, waving from the pavement outside her house until Lucy had walked all the way down the street and turned the corner. Lucy’s heart melted as she turned every few steps to wave back at her, Granny Annie was only four foot ten, and the sight of her so small and alone broke her heart. She renewed her promise to keep up the visits and to phone her more frequently, knowing that her family was all she had left now that so many of her friends had passed away.
The big move was scheduled for December twentieth, giving them a couple of days to settle into the flat before they both went to their respective family homes for Christmas. The twentieth was a Saturday, so they had the whole weekend to move Alex out of the flat in Pimlico and into Lucy’s. Dan was coming over in the Nissan to lend a hand with the removals, Claudia having kindly opted to stay at home so as not to be a ‘nuisance!’ Lugging bags up and down stairs was not Claudia’s idea of fun. Lucy helped Alex pack, sorting his belongings into those he wanted to keep and those he would have to throw away. They had both had to downsize their wardrobes dramatically so that two flats’ worth of possessions would fit into one. Luckily, Alex had been renting a fully furnished flat, so he didn’t have any furniture to deal with. Alex was ruthless with his clothes and shoes; anything that he hadn’t worn in the last six months was bagged up for charity. Dan and Lucy did a run down to the local Oxfam, who gratefully received the bags of expensive labels, before helping Alex load the car up with the remaining suitcases. She was grateful for the two men’s insistence on carrying the bags up the three flights of stairs to her flat, busying herself with pouring them both stiff drinks as a reward for their efforts.
Dan left a short while later, leaving them to settle in to their first night of cohabitation. Unenthusiastically they surveyed the scene of destruction that surrounded them.
‘Arrrghhh…’ groaned Alex as he did a mammoth stretch, ‘I’m so stiff!’
‘Me too,’ agreed Lucy. ‘It’s exhausting work, moving!’
‘Thanks so much for all this, Luce.’ Alex said. ‘I really mean it, you’ve been amazing. I couldn’t have done it without you!’
‘And Dan, he was great! We definitely owe him one, maybe we can get Dan and Clauds over for our first joint dinner party at 13 Mayfield Road?’ Lucy suggested.
‘That sounds like a fantastic idea,’ Alex said as he made his way over to her, enveloping her in his arms. She felt so happy. For once Alex had remained in amazingly high spirits all day, despite the hassle of moving house. She couldn’t help but see this as a good omen, a sign that he was ready to embrace the next stage of their life together. ‘Do you know what else sounds like a good idea to me, right now?’ he said, as he bent to kiss her.
‘I think I can guess,’ laughed Lucy, as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
‘I’m afraid those boxes will just have to wait!’ announced Alex, kicking the door shut behind him and throwing her onto the bed.
Chapter Twelve
Christmas Day dawned bright and clear, a crunchy frost coating each leaf and blade of grass, sparkling like the glitter from Santa’s grotto. Ollie had flown back to Rose Cottage from Oz for the festive period, his flights being a rather over-the-top Christmas present from his parents, who realized that shelling out the money was the only way they would get to see their son and heir. Lucy and Alex had parted company the day before Christmas Eve, each travelling back separately to their family homes. They had exchanged gifts before they left. Alex had bought Lucy a new wallet while she had given him a soft cashmere jumper. Lucy was missing him terribly and hoped fervently that this would be the last Christmas they would ever have to spend apart.
Lucy walked arm in arm with Ollie and Annie, Ginny and Gus following closely behind. They made their way along the winding road that cut through the village and led out to St Minver, the local parish church. Their breath was like puffs of smoke in the frozen air, their cheeks red from the pinching chill.
Exhausted, Lucy struggled to keep her eyes open during the sermon, having stayed up half the night with Ollie, catching up face to face for the first time in a year. He was spending the thirtieth and the thirty-first of December with Lucy and Alex in London and was eager to give her new man the once-over. Claudia and Dan were hosting New Year’s Eve at their house, which promised to be huge fun. Claudia was renowned for throwing epic parties, the effects of which were guaranteed to stay with you for at least the following week. Lucy couldn’t wait to spend her first New Year’s Eve with Alex. It would make a pleasant change having someone to kiss at midnight at long last! She was also looking forward to meeting Sebastian, Tara and Rob’s baby. Claudia had told her all about his arrival several weeks before and she couldn’t wait for a cuddle. Even Claudia, the most unmaternal of people, seemed quite besotted with her adorable new nephew- she kept sending Lucy pictures of him.
The vicar, Maura, was a serious-looking woman who managed to do the whole service without breaking into a smile once, hardly a joyous celebration of the birth of Christ, Lucy and Ollie agreed. The choir was always the highlight of the Johnstons’ annual trip to church. They were a mismatched brigade of old dears, all in various stages of toothlessness, squinting at music through glasses perched precariously on the edge of their noses. They all seemed to be singing an entirely different song to the person next to them, whilst the organist accompanied a different piece of music altogether. This always prompted fits of giggles from the parishioners, and today’s masterpiece was no exception.
At lunchtime Ginny excelled herself, as always, with a roast turkey as tender and moist as could be, Brussel sprouts served with chestnuts and pancetta, crispy bacon, caramelized roast potatoes and thick white bread sauce. Tiggy sat patiently underneath Gus and the carving board, her eyes fixed on the golden bird with razor-sharp attention, waiting in case a piece of the succulent meat should fall to the floor. They devoured their meals, helping themselves to seconds and even thirds, savouring that unbeatable combination of flavours unique to Christmas Day. They drank champagne by the roaring fire as they unwrapped their presents, Annie taking care to fold all the wrapping paper neatly so as
not to waste it. Finally they collapsed, slumbering on the sofas in a food- and alcohol-induced coma, the Christmas Bond movie flickering on TV in the background.
Bizarrely Lucy hadn’t heard from Alex all day, which she thought was extremely peculiar. She wondered if he didn’t have any signal, particularly given that she had sent him a sweet text message wishing him a happy Christmas at seven o’clock that morning, the moment she had opened her eyes. Maybe he was in one of his moods again, she thought. She was beginning to lose patience with him slightly in this respect. He really had nothing to complain about: he was a young, healthy, employed, financially stable man in a relationship, who should be counting his blessings in life, not wallowing in bouts of self-pity. She was finding it increasingly hard to be sympathetic towards him but she hoped that, now they were living together, he might turn over a new leaf.
Gus was in charge of dessert. His speciality was making the Christmas pudding, which they always left until the evening to eat, no one having a single ounce of space left in their tummies at lunchtime. He brought his pièce de resistance in to the sitting room, flickering with ghostly blue flames, and they ate the warm gooey cake, drizzled in melting brandy butter.
As Lucy went to bed she checked her phone, still nothing. She opened her WhatsApp and scrolled to her message chain with Alex. That’s weird, she thought, he was last active at 14.55 p.m. So he does have signal. Feeling slightly unsettled, she sent him another text:
Hope you had a good day? Am so full, we have had an amazing day, love having Ollie home and Granny Annie too, so good to see them. Love you, L x
She didn’t usually sign off with ‘love you.’ They had said it to each other a couple of times before and she had typed it without really thinking about it. She scrolled to her sent items and reread the message. Those two words suddenly made her feel like crying, a sense of vulnerability rose up inside her. She hoped he would hurry up and reply, and tell her that he loved her too. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. She closed her eyes, leaving her phone on loud in case she got a reply.
The next morning, Lucy opened her eyes and immediately clicked on her phone, still nothing. She scrolled through her Facebook feed, clicking on Alex’s profile to see if there were any new posts or photographs, any clues as to why he might be ignoring her, but there was nothing new. She felt slightly pissed off and worried that something was up. Next she clicked on Jack’s profile, unable to help herself. She looked at a photograph that Penny had tagged him in, posing with his kids underneath a huge Christmas tree. He looked so handsome. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this to herself and that it was only because she felt upset with Alex. There was no point. She knew that she would never act on her feelings for Jack, no matter what happened.
She pulled on her tracksuit and trainers and took herself off for a run. The fresh air would do her the power of good and help her shed some of the frustration she was feeling at his lack of contact. She ran down to the beach and up along the coastal path that led to the next bay around. Her heart pounded and sweat began to trickle down the back of her neck. The familiar views, the salty breeze on her face and the effect of the sun as it bounced off the waves lifted her spirits. After half an hour or so she veered left through the sand dunes and took the shortcut back across the golf course towards Rose Cottage. The whitewashed walls and rambling rose that sprawled across the front welcomed her as she walked the last bit of the track, feeling her heart rate begin to slow down.
Pouring herself a glass of water from the tap when she got inside, she went up to her room to strip off her sweaty clothes. The rest of the family hadn’t surfaced yet. It was still early and they were no doubt still sleeping off the excesses of the night before. Her phone was beeping as she walked in,
Hi! Glad you had a good day. Must be nice having O back. Home exhausting as ever. Looking forward to escaping back to London! Love you too, A x
Seeing that he had said ‘Love you too’ made her heart swell with happiness. Sighing with relief, she told herself off for being so silly. There was no rule saying that he had to be in touch on Christmas Day, after all. She pushed any feelings of unease to one side and made her way to the bathroom at the end of the corridor, ready to face the haphazard plumbing in the hope of procuring at least some hot water for a shower.
Before she knew it Lucy was making her way back to London, her bag laden with presents and her waistband straining ever so slightly after a week of Ginny’s cooking. She was due back at work between Boxing Day and New Year, as was Alex. She felt as if they had been apart for weeks. She cooked him delicious meals and they snuggled up on the sofa together in the evenings catching up on the Christmas specials that they had recorded. Ollie came to stay at Alex and Lucy’s for the night before New Year’s Eve. The three of them had lunch together at the local pub, knowing that Ollie would be out all night catching up with his mates, before returning at god knows what time to pass out on the sofa. He often didn’t return home at all. His sun-bleached shaggy mop of hair, boyish good looks and sun kissed tan were an unfailing hit with the ladies, and he was never short of a place to stay the night! This was the standard routine for Ollie’s fleeting visits to London.
Alex and Ollie got on well, taking the mickey out of Lucy for her ability to say the wrong thing at the wrong time, swapping stories and killing themselves with laughter at her expense. Lucy chuckled along gamely, enjoying watching two of the most important men in her life get on so well. She had forgiven him for his lack of contact on Christmas Day, determined to start the New Year focusing only on the positive.
New Year’s Eve at Claudia’s was, as expected, a riot. Rob, Tara and their gorgeous son Sebastian made an early, fleeting appearance, appearing in a flurry of baby paraphernalia.
‘Oh my god I can’t believe I finally get to meet him!’ cried Lucy, rushing over to kiss them hello. Sebastian was in his car seat gurgling merrily as his enormous eyes absorbed his new surroundings. ‘He is just divine! Please can I hold him?’
‘Of course you can,’ said Rob, unclipping his son and passing him over to Lucy for a cuddle.
‘How are you finding fatherhood? You look like such a natural!’
‘I was absolutely terrified to begin with,’ admitted Rob. ‘I thought I was going to break him every time I held him!’
‘But they’re actually pretty robust little things, babies…’added Tara, deftly wiping some dribble from Sebastian’s chin with a muslin cloth.
‘You look amazing, Tara,’ said Lucy, noticing her stylish black jumpsuit and smoky eyes.
‘Oh thanks! I must say it’s a miracle that I’ve managed to leave the house with clean hair and no baby sick on my clothing… trust me, it doesn’t happen often!’ laughed Tara.
Alex was hovering near the nibbles, so Lucy took Sebastian over to him. He cooed appreciatively and nuzzled his chubby red cheeks. Lucy was glad that he seemed to like babies. It was a good sign… surely? She was determined to have a chat with him to reassure herself that they were both after the same thing when it came to having kids. She had had many conversations about children and family with him before, scoping out how he reacted, and he had always seemed to be keen on the idea… but she was conscious that she had never actually asked him out right.
A couple of hours later, emboldened by a few of stiff drinks, Lucy broached the subject. ‘Sebastian is such a sweetheart, isn’t he?’ she said.
‘He is cute,’ agreed Alex.
‘I was wondering…’ Lucy took a deep breath. ‘Do you think you would like children one day?’
‘Steady on, Luce!’ laughed Alex, swiftly concealing the flash of panic that had darted across his features. ‘It’s only been six months!’
‘I know, I know…’ said Lucy, giving him a playful shove. ‘I’m not asking if you want them now. I’m just asking whether you want them some day.’
‘To be honest I haven’t really given it much thought,’ Alex shrugged. ‘I’m not really sure yet.’
Lucy felt something inside her plummet. This was not the reaction she had been hoping for. How could he have not even thought about the one thing that Lucy couldn’t stop thinking about? Perhaps that was the difference between men and women… men didn’t have a biological clock ticking away inside them, there was absolutely no time pressure for them to procreate.
To mask her disappointment, Lucy marched over to the kitchen table that was currently acting as the bar. Claudia had pulled out all the stops as usual, including a never-ending supply of punch, which had become more and more heavily spiked as the night wore on. Tinsel and flashing lights were strewn all over the place and a fantastic playlist of cheesy Christmas tunes kept everyone dancing. The party went on well into the early hours of the morning ensuring a hung-over and rather depressing start to the New Year.
As always on January first, Lucy swore that next year she would definitely not drink, promising herself that there would soon come a time when she would welcome in the year in a zen and peaceful state of wellbeing, instead of dying a slow and painful death on the sofa surrounded by takeaway cartons. At least this year she was lying in Alex’s arms, she reasoned to herself, a serious improvement on three hundred and sixty five days ago, when she was dealing with the depression of her hangover all alone.
After a few days, when her hangover still hadn’t worn off, Lucy began to suspect that she was, in fact, ill… a sure side effect of drunkenly sharing drinks with a bunch of fellow party-goers. Her glands began to swell, her throat began to ache and she was overcome by a chronic sense of fatigue. She just wanted to stay in a cosy hole underneath her duvet and sleep. She phoned work to tell them that she was sick, not very impressive having only managed two days back in the office so far this year, but Lucy was beyond caring. She tried to sleep but the pain in her throat had become truly excruciating. She stumbled over to the mirror in her bedroom, finding a torch deep in one of her drawers and shining it into her open throat. She located her tonsils, swollen and raw, with the telltale little white spots of tonsillitis. Reaching for the telephone, she made an emergency appointment with the doctor, knowing from experience that she was in for a rough few days, and that penicillin was the only solution.
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