‘Has he really gone to Joe’s?’
‘Definitely, she’s driving us both mad. Come here, look at this.’ I cross my legs on the floor and take the small shoebox from her, full of photographs. ‘When we used to take our films to Boots and get actual photos back.’
I flick through them, chuckling at Emma and myself dancing around in her room pretending to be the Spice Girls. ‘That was not a good hair year,’ I say, showing her one of the two of us with slightly mad frizzy locks.
‘I still say straighteners were the best invention ever.’
‘Is that mine?’ I pull a box over, seeing my name on it. I open it up and pull out a poster of a bare-chested boy band star. ‘God, I had this stuck to the wall.’
‘Don’t remind me, that used to give me nightmares.’ Emma leans over the box too. ‘Look, our friendship bracelets.’ She grabs a stack of bracelets that we bought from a past Talting Fair and takes half, sliding them on her wrist. ‘Remember all those late night conversations we used to have in our room about whether we’d stay friends or not.’
I pull on the other half of the stack, a lump forming in my throat. We were always worried about growing apart.
‘Twenty years of friendship,’ I say, lifting my wrists next to hers. I swallow the lump down and look at my best friend. ‘Tell me, Em, I want to know.’
Emma takes my hand and holds it. ‘I’ve come off the Pill. It feels like the right time for us. It’s bloody scary, though. I don’t know how long it will take, but you know how much I’ve always wanted a family.’
When we were teenagers, we were always fearful of getting pregnant. Sue drummed into us how much she wished she could have waited, even though she loves Emma with every fibre of her body; she felt too young when it happened. She always said that we should know who we are before we take that plunge. In our teens, Emma began to say how much she envied me for having Lucas. It’s hard when your friends are at a different stage in life to you. I can see why she felt like that now. When she met John, she began to talk more about wanting to have a family. I suppose it changed from wanting a baby to wanting his baby. And I know what a great mother Emma will make. I nod for her to continue. I look down at our hands and squeeze hers, unable to find any words just yet.
‘But it’s hard. I am excited as well as being bloody terrified and I hate seeing you upset. I wish I could take your pain away. I wish we could be doing this together. I always thought . . . I always thought we would.’ Her voice breaks and when I look up she’s wiping a tear away.
‘It’s okay,’ I say quickly, squeezing her hand again and feeling a tear trickle out of my eye too. ‘I always thought we would too, but you know . . .’ I have to stop and find my voice again. ‘I always imagined that Lucas and I would have a family; he loved kids and it was just assumed between us, you know? And when you used to talk about it, I could see it. I could see the four of us with our kids going to the beach and the Fair, our kids being friends and playing together and . . .’ I wipe away another tear and she sniffs. ‘But now Lucas isn’t here, I don’t have that pull.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, I can’t see it. I don’t have that need like you do. Not yet. I assumed we would have had a baby but I wouldn’t have been ready yet, not like you are. I just don’t know if it’s something I will want or not. And when I knew you were going to start trying, I was jealous, because I’ll never have that with Lucas. I’ll never have a piece of him with me, but, I don’t know, maybe that’s okay, because how could I have raised his child without him?’ I let out a sob then and she pulls me into her arms.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she says into my hair.
I pull back a little to look at her.
‘I’ll never have a family with Lucas and that’s always going to hurt, but I never want to make you feel bad for being able to make one with John. Lucas would have been so happy for you guys too. And I am. I promise, I am.’
‘Rose, you are my best friend,’ she says, brushing back a strand of my hair and smiling through her tears at me. ‘You are so strong and brave, you know? You deserve to be so, so happy.’
‘God, you’re going to make me cry again.’
Emma wipes a tear from my cheek. ‘I just feel so helpless sometimes, I don’t know what to do to make things better for you.’
‘Just having you with me helps.’ I take a deep breath. ‘It hurts . . . I don’t know if “less” is the best word, but maybe it’s more like the pain is becoming bearable. I’m starting to think about the fact that I will have a life without Lucas. You know that I will never love anyone the way I loved him, but now I feel more able to face the future without him. Does that make sense?’
Emma nods. ‘Lucas would have wanted you to build a new life, a new future, without him. He always wanted you to be happy and he is up there somewhere rooting for you, Rose. I just know it.’
‘Do you really think so?’
‘Of course I do. He would never have wanted to hold you back in any way. You guys had something really special and nothing will ever change that, okay? And John and I will always be here for you. I promise.’
I smile at my best friend. ‘Friends forever?’ I say, remembering us promising that in this very house when we were twelve.
She smiles back. ‘Friends forever.’
We lapse into a contemplative silence and sit up here for what seems like forever, holding one another, until her parents suddenly walk in and we pull apart.
‘Everything okay?’ Gary asks. He’s just retired from his sales job and is finding it hard not having anything to do. He refuses to take up golf or fishing, so he and Sue are going to a salsa class next week.
‘We’re fine,’ I say.
‘We haven’t done a lot, though,’ Emma admits.
Sue lifts her hands up. ‘Let’s just leave it, we can’t even decide what to do with the room anyway. I’ll make us all lunch. Come on, Gary.’
Gary winks at us and follows his wife out. Emma looks at me and chuckles and I smile back. Sue is well known for her sudden changes of mind and I love how we have all learned to just go along with her.
‘We must look like crap,’ I say, taking out an elastic from my pocket and pulling my hair into a ponytail.
‘I’m starving. Crying makes you hungry, I swear.’ She pats my arm. ‘Thanks for listening to me. And you know, you just have to take things one step at a time. Things will carry on getting easier.’ She pulls me up off the floor with her. ‘And maybe one day you’ll fall in love again . . .’
I shake my head at her. ‘No match-making. Ever. Deal?’
She holds up her hands. ‘Fine, fine. But just don’t close yourself off to anything, because you never know.’ She gives me a significant look before following her parents out of the room and I just know she’s got herself carried away about Robert. It’s written all over her face that she’s wondering if something might happen there. I have no idea if she’s right or wrong to be wondering that. Or whether it’s okay to be wondering it myself.
How will I know if and when the time is right?
I follow Emma downstairs and we have cheese sandwiches and mugs of tea with Sue and Gary, who banter like the old married couple they are and take the piss out of Emma a lot, reminding her of all the silly things she did as a kid. I listen and smile, the familiarity of them helping to chase some of my melancholy away. It’s been hard to adjust to never having the prospect of a family with Lucas, but I won’t let that stop me from supporting Emma and John. I actually feel better for telling her that I’m not sure I see a family in my future, like it was a secret that I needed to let out. I don’t know if it’s disrespectful to Lucas somehow to feel differently about things now he’s gone to how I felt when he was here, but I think I need to accept that losing him has changed everything, especially me. And it’s okay to think about what I might
want now I’m having to live without him.
When we leave her parents’ house, the sun is setting and we look up at streaks of orange and red criss-crossing the sky in a blaze of natural beauty. I stand still and wish I could capture the colours nature has produced on canvas. ‘Sometimes I feel so lost not painting,’ I tell Emma as we start walking again.
‘You’ll paint again, I know it.’
‘I think it’s that I don’t know what to paint anymore. Like I want to paint something different to what I did before but I don’t know what.’
Emma tilts her head. ‘That actually sounds exciting. It’s not that you’re stuck, you’re just waiting until you know what you want to do.’
I like the way she sees it.
We walk past Talting Inn and glance over at it, the lights flicking on as we pass. I wonder what Robert is doing in there right now.
‘I have to tell you something,’ Emma says suddenly when she sees where I’m looking.
‘What?’
‘Robert was only supposed to stay for a couple of days, he planned to leave after the Fair, but after meeting you when we had breakfast at the Inn, he upped his stay to the whole summer.’
I frown, thinking back. ‘But when we met him we asked him and he said he was going to be here for a few weeks, didn’t he?’
She nods. ‘Exactly, he lied to us. He changed his mind after meeting you and spoke to Mick once we’d gone.’
‘That’s crazy.’
‘Is it? The first time I met John I knew there was something between us. Robert had already fallen in love with your art and then he met the artist and decided he wanted to stay and get to know her, you.’ We are nearing Emma’s house now so we slow down a little. ‘Maybe that night when he was trying to tell you something, that’s what he was going to say.’
‘You don’t just make a decision like that as soon as you meet someone, there’s more to it. I know he seems to have a difficult relationship with his father; I think he wanted to get away from him.’
Emma shrugs. ‘Maybe, but it’s still clear he likes you. We can all see it. The question is – do you like him?’
‘Of course I like him.’
‘You know what I mean.’
I pause by her gate. ‘I’m not sure I want to like him, you know?’
She nods. ‘I understand that. He’s just here for the summer, though. How about a summer romance, a holiday fling?’ She grins at me as she pushes her gate open.
‘Like either of us knows how to have a fling.’ Emma had two boyfriends before John, both lasting over a year. We are relationship girls and she knows it.
Her smile fades and she gives me a more serious look. ‘I just see how he makes you smile. It’s a lovely thing to see.’
I reach over the gate to give her a hug. ‘It’s nice to smile again,’ I admit. ‘I just never thought I’d even look at someone else,’ I say into her ear before pulling away.
‘The thing is, you may want time to get your head around that, but sometimes life doesn’t give you time. Does that make sense?’
I watch her walk into her house, her words ringing in my ears. I walk slowly back to the cottage, darkness falling over the town.
I think about Robert. I don’t think he could be here just for me but I won’t deny that I’m pleased he is staying. I want to spend more time with him and get to know him better. That moment when we said goodbye after the dinner at Emma’s was charged with something. I just don’t know if I’m ready for it yet.
My thoughts about moments flood back. I didn’t know how many moments I would have with Lucas. We never know. Waiting could mean you lose moments that you will regret losing one day. Maybe we have to seize the moments when we can, when they are here in front of us, even if we’re scared of them. I know better than anyone how easily time can slip away from you. How you can think you have forever but have it snatched from you. Maybe I shouldn’t hide from whatever may be blossoming between Robert and me, because who knows when I may ever feel a spark like this again? A possibility like this again. A moment like this again.
Maybe our moment is right now.
I pause by my front door; I look up into the sky and wish for a sign from the universe to tell me what I should do. I wish Lucas could give me a sign. I wish I could talk to him about all of this. I wish we could have just one more moment together.
And finally, I wish that I didn’t have to make these wishes.
Chapter Fourteen
Robert calls me and asks if I want to come with him to the beach for a picnic. It’s a gorgeous day, quite out of character for England, and I’m itching to be outside. I head down to the beach at midday and spot him sitting on a blanket with an appealing-looking hamper beside him. He stands up and waves and I start laughing. ‘What?’
‘Look at what we’re wearing,’ I call back as I walk over to him. We both have on light blue jeans and a white shirt. ‘You went into the wrong shop, didn’t you?’
He grins. ‘What can I say, I love women’s clothes.’ He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘I’m going to concede that it all looks better on you.’
‘I would hope women’s clothes look better on me.’
‘Look, this is a man’s shirt,’ he protests, trying to show me the label.
‘I won’t judge. What did you bring?’ I peer into the open hamper.
‘Mick did this for me, he was very excited. It looks like he packed enough for five.’
We sit down on the blanket and pull out the food. Mick packed Coronation chicken sandwiches, pasta salad, sausage rolls and strawberries and cream, plus a jug of Pimm’s and lemonade.
‘I have to hand it to him, this is amazing,’ I say, piling up my plate. I lean back on the blanket. There are no clouds in the sky and the sea laps peacefully at the edge of the sand. I lean my face up to the sun, eager to feel its warmth on me.
Robert’s phone starts ringing but when he sees who it is, he rejects the call. He must see my curious face because he sighs. ‘My father. Again. He’s getting very frustrated with me being here. He keeps pressing me to come home; he thinks I’m jeopardising my future by taking this break. He wants me to take over the whole firm one day and thinks it looks bad to the other partners.’
‘Is that what you want, to take over?’
‘I don’t want to think about it until the summer’s over,’ he replies, taking a big bite of sandwich. This strikes me as slightly immature, putting off thinking about something, but then I think about putting off trying to paint again so I decide to stay quiet. His face brightens then. ‘But I have some good news. When I went home to sort out your paintings, I had to have a meeting at the office and I passed that art gallery I told you about. I went in to see the owner afterwards, Heather.’
Putting my fork down, I feel heat creep up the back of my neck. ‘Why?’
‘I wanted to ask how they find their artists and tell them about one that I’ve found. She was busy but I left some photos of your paintings with her, and she called me yesterday to say she loves your work.’
I stare at him in disbelief. ‘You showed her my work without asking me?’
He looks surprised at my tone. ‘I thought you’d be pleased. She loves them. I told her you weren’t painting at the moment and she—’
Anger bubbles under my skin. ‘Why are you doing this? Why do you keep pushing me?’
‘Because you should be painting,’ he says, his voice rising to match mine. ‘She said you need to tap into your feelings and—’
‘You know nothing about my feelings,’ I snap in frustration. ‘God, we’ve only just met.’ I jump up from the blanket, unable to sit still.
Robert stands up too and faces me. ‘I just wanted to help you.’
‘I don’t need your help.’
He grabs my arm as I turn to le
ave. ‘Heather said she’d love to see more of your work, this could be a real opportunity. What about your future? You need to think about it, Rose.’
I shake my arm free from his grip. ‘Like you think about yours, you mean?’ I fling back before walking away. It’s quite hard to storm away on sand; my feet sink into it and I can feel the backs of my legs burn with my effort to get away from him as quickly as I can.
I reach the end of the beach and glance back. I can just make Robert out, standing where I left him. I don’t get why he’s so desperate for me to paint again. I’m not his pet project. He needs to look at his own life. It’s obvious that he doesn’t want to work for his father, doesn’t want to take over the firm, but he won’t face it, so why should I take his advice?
‘Rose, there you are.’ I groan inwardly as Mrs Morris rushes out of her café, followed by Amanda. ‘Have you got a second to look at this?’
Amanda is clutching her sketchbook and smiles at me shyly as she holds it out. She bites her lip and I recognise the nervous look in her eyes. The way you’re hoping someone likes what you’ve created but at the same time doubting your own abilities. Creative people always struggle with self-belief. I used to feel the exact same way about my work. I soften, not wanting to take my anger with Robert out on her.
Sucking in a calming breath, I take a look at the picture. I’m pleased to see it fits exactly what her teacher asked for. ‘Oh, Amanda, it’s really great. If your teacher doesn’t give you an A for that, they don’t know anything about art.’
‘Oh, wow, thanks. And thanks for all your help.’ She gives me a sudden hug.
‘You’re really welcome,’ I say, hugging her back.
I glance at the picture again and experience a familiar pang. I love that sensation when you’ve created something, of pride and accomplishment; you feel satisfied and content, complete somehow. I miss that feeling. More than I realised. I leave them looking over her drawing, both so happy, and I feel good that I was able to help.
The Second Love of My Life Page 10