The Winter We Met

by Samantha Tonge

  Alf wrote one last thing down in his notebook before saluting Oliver. He bowed to me and left. In silence I collected up any remaining cups. I went behind the hatch, as the rain outside started to fall in torrents, and gave them to Oliver at the sink. He dropped them into the soapy water and caught sight of my charm bracelet.

  ‘That’s unusual.’

  ‘A… friend made it for me. The charms represent the important things in my life – the lotus flower is my Buddhism. The book represents Gran. The dog is Buddy.’

  ‘Did Nancy’s little great-granddaughter make it? I heard her saying she’d just got into beading.’

  ‘No – but this friend is researching craft packs for children.’

  Oliver let go of the washing up sponge. ‘Nik made it? He’s been around for all of two minutes and considers himself an expert on your life? What’s the heart all about?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘You and him? Look… I think you need to hear something, Jess.’

  ‘I thought we’d moved past all this? Honestly – I’ve got enough on my mind what with work and the party, with visiting Darkthorn house with Gran and now hearing how Pan’s been upset, and how finding a new care home may be even more challenging than I thought. Nik is a real tonic for everyone. It’s as if he’s been sent by fate. Why are you doing your best to ruin that?’

  ‘I searched online for information about the robbery you told me about. There is no reference whatsoever to that crime. You said it happened a couple of years ago. Nik was a hero. And wasn’t the robber the son of an Olympian? Because of that, the story would have definitely appeared in the local newspaper and probably the nationals. I Googled Nik Talvi and zero came up, just like when I searched for his supposed toy manufacturing business.’

  ‘Didn’t it ever occur to you that he might have asked to have his name left out of it, to keep his privacy? He insisted that Glenda and I don’t mention it to anyone else.’

  ‘Isn’t it at least possible that he’s using you, Jess – either for some sort of romantic liaison, so that he can stay in Britain or to get close to the well-off residents?’ His voice was steady and calm. ‘Just look at Glenda. He’s focused on her and has already found a way of looking at her private financial details. He’s won her trust with his schmoozing and now she even trusts him with her room key. Glenda’s probably the most well-off resident in Willow Court – don’t tell me that’s a coincidence.’ Oliver gazed at me intently. ‘Is it really so illogical to think that this isn’t normal – not when we’ve only known about him for a matter of weeks?’

  ‘Have you seen how much more cheerful she is these days?’ I said quietly. ‘Nik’s brought a sparkle into her life. This is a difficult time for her – for all the residents.’

  ‘But this is real life, not a fairytale – Nik’s not some wholesome Disney character like the one on his watch.’

  I folded my arms. ‘Is this what Alf’s been writing notes about? Don’t think I haven’t seen the two of your skulking in the corners.’

  ‘I don’t know exactly what Alf makes of him – just that he thinks there is a story behind the smooth veneer.’

  My arms dropped to my sides. ‘Look, Oliver, are you’re miffed that the residents have taken another man into their hearts, because you know—?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Then is everything all right? I’m always here if you need to talk through a problem.’ I did my best to smile but he gave no reply. ‘Is it really so difficult to believe that Nik might genuinely fancy me?’

  He snorted.

  My eyes pricked. I don’t know why it hurt so much, Oliver and I had always only been friends, but it ached to find out that he couldn’t believe Nik might find me genuinely attractive in the same way it had ached when he’d backed off so quickly, years ago, after that drunken kiss.

  ‘I’ll answer that for you, then,’ I said, stung by his silence. ‘No it’s not, because he’s asked me to his flat tomorrow night – so I might not be back until the next day and if you can’t accept that then maybe… maybe it’s time you moved out,’ I blurted.

  27

  I stood outside the block of flats in Islington, having walked past a row of houses with extravagant Christmas wreaths on their doors. It was a beautiful night. The romantic scene was set with a clear moon, devilishly dark sky and sultry streetlamps. I pressed the buzzer confidently – although Seb had worried me when he’d questioned my intentions over lunch in the staff room.

  ‘Number one thing tonight, Jessie – don’t make an idiot of yourself.’

  ‘Of course I won’t!’

  ‘There’s nothing worse than laying your wares on the table to have them rejected. I know. Let’s just double-check the evidence to make sure gorgeous Nik feels the same way back.’ He grabbed a discarded receipt next to the kettle and turned it over before placing it on the table. He took the pen out from behind his ear.

  ‘How did he act towards you, the very first time you met?’

  ‘I can remember it so clearly,’ I said and put down my sandwich as I talked Seb through the things we’d chatted about. ‘And he said I reminded him of how much he liked England. After we parted, when I looked back at him, over my shoulder, he was looking back at me too.’

  ‘And who contacted who first afterwards?’ asked Seb. He swigged out of his detox drink bottle.

  ‘Nik didn’t have my contact details but one week later I texted the number on his business card.’ I smiled. ‘He replied straightaway, said he’d been thinking about me and shared a silly joke about Pinocchio.’

  ‘Hmm. There could be a Freudian meaning behind that.’ Seb jotted something down. ‘How did he react the first time you met again?’

  ‘It was outside Willow Court. As soon as he saw me, Nik opened his arms for a hug.’

  ‘Has he made any big romantic gestures?’

  ‘He’s given me red roses – and a charm bracelet with a heart on.’ I wiggled my wrist in the air.

  Seb put down his pen. ‘It’s all sounding very positive to me, Jess, and I assume he’s ticking all the boxes when it comes to kissing…’

  I rubbed the back of my neck.

  His eyebrows raised. ‘Please tell me that, at least, has taken place.’

  I’d sighed. ‘It’s not for want of trying. We’ve had a couple of near-misses.’ I told him about Oliver turning up at the flat when Nik had come to dinner, and how Lynn interrupted us at Pebble Rock, asking for her keys.

  Seb screwed the receipt up into a ball and leant back in the chair. ‘From everything you say I conclude that this man is totally into you. As for why he hasn’t more openly made his move yet, the answer’s obvious.’

  It was?

  ‘From everything you’ve ever said about him – and from what I sensed when I met him briefly – Nik is the perfect gent. So you might need to nudge a bit harder for him to realise exactly how ready you are to take things further…’

  Snapping myself back to the present, I pressed the buzzer again. Nik loomed into view, behind the glass door, and it opened. I went in. His arms and aftershave enveloped me. I stood back, admiring the tailored cut of his dark grey shirt with red flowers on it. It complimented his hair and contrasted his warm tan. I followed him along a brightly lit corridor and into a flat.

  ‘You’re on the ground floor?’

  ‘It’s great. There’s a garden.’

  ‘Not much good at this time of year though.’

  For some reason he gave a wide grin.

  I gazed at the minimalist furniture. The place didn’t look lived in, with the immaculate cream walls and furnishings and the sparkling glass tables. It was open plan like mine and Oliver’s but couldn’t have been tidier. There was a small dining table by the far window that looked out onto the street. Nik had set it up with red napkins and candles.

  He took my coat and woolly hat and let out a low whistle. ‘What a knockout dress.’

  It was tight and short. Not my usual style. A pres
ent from Angela who said I didn’t make enough of my figure.

  ‘Great place, Nik. It’s like a hotel.’ I glanced at a small pot, on the floor in the corner, by the front window. ‘I should have known there would be a Christmas tree somewhere.’

  ‘You should see the bedroom – it’s got a waterbed.’

  I tried not to look eager.

  ‘A glass of wine?’ he asked after draping my things over the back of a white leather sofa. ‘I’ve bought a bottle of Chardonnay. I spotted one on your kitchen unit when I came around for dinner, and assumed it was a favourite.’ He passed me a glass, filled it a little and let me taste it first. So old school.

  ‘What’s for dinner? I can hardly wait.’ It was at that moment I spotted flames outside the French windows. I caught his eye. ‘You’re not serious?’

  ‘I found a barbecue in the utility cupboard. What could be more Australian? And it’s oh so cosy standing around those coals.’ He pulled the patio doors open and we stood outside. He was right. I didn’t need my coat. The glow from the barbecue reminded me of bonfire night. I glanced at the wire rack, the burgers and sausages and…

  ‘Now you’re really having a laugh,’ I said. ‘Brussel sprout and bacon skewers?’

  ‘A classic and delicious topped with grated parmesan. Sausages, burgers, skewers – they are the basics of a good Aussie dinner. I’ve made coleslaw and a Greek salad and a rather special starter. We often get together at the family house for barbies and my parents are always trying out new recipes.’ He flipped a burger and I warmed myself. ‘The residents seemed pretty happy about the newspaper article, last night. Apart from Alice – how’s she recovering?’

  ‘Slowly. But she seemed to perk up when you mentioned painting stones. That idea was really special.’

  ‘I’m just hoping it makes a small difference.’

  ‘I had a quick look at my emails at lunchtime and guess what? We’ve already had about twenty replies.’ I forced a bright tone, despite knowing I’d have a lot of late nights ahead of me sifting through. Normally I’d have printed them out and asked Gran’s opinion on which offers of help we should take up but she needed all her energy, at the moment, to get better. ‘I’ve read a few… a local caterer called The Springhaye Snacking Company, they specialise in finger foods and have offered a hefty discount on buffet dishes. The owner said she’d catered for care homes before so would make sure nothing was too spicy or rich and would include some old favourites like sausage rolls and pineapple and cheese sticks – things that are easy to pick up and eat, yet with a festive twist where possible. A scout group has said it will run a couple of sponsored events to raise money, to help cover costs like that. A Christmas tree farm has offered to deliver us one for free, whatever size we want.’

  ‘That’s exciting. We could read more of them after dinner.’ He rolled the skewers. ‘Almost done. You stay out here and I’ll fetch you when our starters are ready – they are something of a surprise.’

  More than happy to remain by the coals, I waited, the inside of my chest fluttering as I sipped my wine. Finally he came back and took my glass. ‘Don’t come in for a minute. I’ll just put this on the table.’ Seconds later he returned and took my hand. We went in and he stood behind me. I giggled as he placed his hands over my eyes. We walked over to the window, him guiding me. ‘Here’s the chair,’ he said softly. I sat down. He crouched, his fingers still across my face. ‘Okie dokes, here we go – one, two, three…’ He took his hands away.

  I looked down. ‘Toast?’

  ‘With Vegemite. I’d be letting my country down if I didn’t get you to try that.’

  He sat down opposite me, eyes laughing, and I glanced at the plate again. ‘How neatly you’ve cut the bread into four triangles. It’s almost worth taking an Instagram photo – almost…’ I said.

  We both picked up pieces. My nose wrinkled.

  ‘It tastes better than it smells,’ he insisted. Slowly, he chewed and then licked his lips. My pulse sped up. Maintaining eye contact, I bit into the bread, briefly savouring the satisfying flavour of melted butter before… ‘Do you like it?’ he asked. I swallowed as quickly as I could, before gulping back a large mouthful of wine. ‘I’ll take that as a no?’

  ‘It’s just like Marmite, except even stronger, almost bitter. How could you do that to me?’

  Nik threw another triangle into his mouth comically and closed his eyes, making appreciative noises as he ate. ‘I hope the main course makes up for all the drama. You relax there. I won’t be two minutes.’ He brought over the coleslaw and Greek salad, and then a burger loaded with pickled beetroot, a slice of pineapple and a fried egg, the whole stack placed in a bun. I picked it up and bit down, yolk squirting onto my chin.

  ‘Oh my God. Nik. What are you trying to do to me? This is paradise on a plate.’

  ‘And the sprouts?’

  Mouth full of one, accompanied by crispy bacon and parmesan, all I could do was close my eyes appreciatively and nod. We chatted about favourite childhood foods.

  ‘Living close to my grandparents I grew up on plenty of Finnish meals. Grams made amazing meatballs with mash, heaps of brown sauce and lingonberry jam.’

  ‘I’ve eaten Scandinavian meatballs in Ikea.’

  Nik tutted. ‘Good thing my grandpa isn’t here. He used to get annoyed whenever anyone assumed Finland was part of Scandinavia.’

  ‘It isn’t?’

  Nik shook his head and picked up one of the olives. He slipped it into his mouth. ‘No. Geographically, determined by the Scandinavian Peninsula, Norway, Sweden and Denmark are the only Scandinavian countries – a subregion of northern Europe. But it gets more complicated from the cultural and historical viewpoints that would require including Iceland and Finland. The latter two would probably refer to themselves more as Nordic than Scandinavian. Grandpa was very precise about these things. It used to make Grams laugh.’

  ‘How was she… towards the end… if you’re okay talking about it?’ I asked. ‘Betty seems angry or sad a lot of the time whereas Phyllis is, overall, more content.’

  Nik stopped eating. ‘We were grateful that she rarely got upset – even when she didn’t know who we were. I remember once, when she was still up to going out, we went to a mall and I took her off in a wheelchair whilst Grandpa went to buy some toiletries she’d run out of. When he came back, she asked who he was. He said her husband. She looked horrified but a flicker of amusement appeared in her eyes. The three of us started laughing – comic tragedy at its best.’ He picked up his fork and his eyes shone. ‘I treasured moments of togetherness like that, even though they were also sad.’ He fell silent for a moment. ‘So, what was your favourite childhood food?’

  ‘Pizza takeout,’ I said straightaway. ‘Cooking wasn’t Mum’s thing. Often I just made myself sandwiches but when she suggested pizza I knew that meant she was in a really good mood and that made everything taste so much better.’

  He placed his hand over mine. I imagined it running down my spine. ‘I guess I was lucky growing up, surrounded by family. I took it for granted at the time. How do you get on with your mother now?’

  ‘I don’t know – she hasn’t been in touch for years.’

  ‘Do you know where she is?’

  ‘No. Now and again, I felt like calling her but… I know it’s stupid… a silly pride stopped me. I gave in just once. I’d just broken up with a boyfriend and was feeling low. I rang her number. It wasn’t valid anymore.’

  ‘Jeez, Jess, that sucks.’

  ‘Gran’s made up for a lot. She taught me everything I know about cooking for a start.’

  ‘That rhubarb crumble was a top pudding – mine won’t come close.’

  I groaned. ‘Not sure I’ve got room for dessert.’

  ‘It contains chocolate.’

  I put my fingers in my ears but he cleared away our plates and came back with a dish of square, brown cakes.

  ‘Lamingtons. Traditional. Reliable. Honest.’

  That di
dn’t surprise me. Nik’s simple taste in food seemed to be like his taste for all things in life.

  ‘It’s chocolate sponge sandwiched together with jam and cream and then covered in chocolate icing and dipped in desiccated coconut. Traditionalists say there shouldn’t be any jam and cream in the middle. It’s a bit like the English debate about scones and whether the jam goes on first or not.’

  ‘I suppose just a small one wouldn’t harm,’ I said, even though they were all the same size. After finishing my third, I groaned and stood up.

  ‘The worst thing after all this food would be lying on the waterbed,’ he said. ‘Talk about a weird sensation. I couldn’t get used to it so have resorted to sleeping on the sofa.’

  ‘I’ve never been on one. I’d love to try it.’ Heat flooded into my face. I didn’t mean to be as direct as that. In fact, I didn’t mean anything by it – I was genuinely curious.

  ‘Don’t blame me if you get seasick. Come on then, bring your phone and we can look at some more of those emails.’

  I took my mobile out of my bag and followed him into a room past the kitchen. Like the living area it was mainly magnolia with plain sheets and streamlined wardrobes. Tentatively, I sat down on the bed, next to Nik, leaning up against the headboard. I bounced up and down and couldn’t help laughing. Accidentally I fell against him and looked up. He smiled as we gazed at each other.

  ‘See what I mean?’ he said.

  I nodded, not sure what to say, pulse racing as I straightened up.

  The bed calmed down and Nik closed his eyes. ‘I’m trying to imagine I’m on my lilo.’

  ‘Do you miss home?’

  ‘Sure. My family. Friends. But you, Jess, and Willow Court have gone some way to filling the gap whilst I’m abroad.’

  My throat went dry as I tried to find the words to tell Nik just how much I wanted to get close.

  ‘So, the offers of help that have come in – what kind of things?’

  Reluctantly, I tapped on the email icon on my phone. ‘Wow. Another five.’ I read one quickly. ‘Oh. My. Goodness. You’ll never guess what someone has offered.’