by Annie Lyons
‘Hello?’ she said, fishing it out of his pocket. ‘And there was me thinking you were just pleased to see me.’
Alex laughed. ‘Well I was going to save this for later but you’ve rumbled me.’ He knelt down by the side of the bed and held open the box. ‘Lizzie Harris, I know it’s only been three months since I came back into your life but I couldn’t imagine a world without you now. And, because of the fact that you are the most beautiful, wonderful, incredible woman I have ever met and you make me happier than I’ve ever been, I want to ask if you will do me the greatest honour of becoming my wife?’
Lizzie stared at him open-mouthed. It was true. Everything had happened so quickly but at the same time, it felt so right. It was perfect really. She looked at the ring and then back at Alex’s grinning face. ‘I will,’ she cried, tears of joy springing to her eyes. They kissed and as they drew back, Lizzie said, ‘I can’t believe how happy I am.’
‘You deserve it, my darling. I also think that we might need champagne rather than sex right now. What do you say?’
Lizzie kissed him again. ‘I say yes. To everything!’ She stretched back on the bed and held the engagement ring between her fingers. It was beautiful and exactly the kind of design she would have chosen. She rolled onto her front and held it out to admire it properly. She placed it experimentally on her finger. It was a little loose but nothing that couldn’t be adjusted. Alex returned carrying two glasses of champagne. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said holding up the ring for inspection.
‘It was my grandmother’s,’ said Alex. ‘I think she would have been pleased with my choice of wife.’ Lizzie grinned, accepting the glass. ‘To us,’ said Alex, proposing a toast.
‘To us,’ she repeated, kissing him. She took a sip of champagne and gazed happily at the engagement ring. ‘I wonder what Bea would have made of this. Of us,’ she said, glancing at him.
Alex shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Do you think she would have been happy for us?’
‘I think she would have been pleased that you’re happy,’ he said.
‘I think so too,’ smiled Lizzie.
‘Right, well I should really finish off the dinner,’ said Alex, kissing her again and carrying his glass out into the kitchen.
Lizzie lay back on the bed and threw her arms over her head to stretch. As she brought her hand back to admire the ring she realised that it wasn’t on her finger any more. ‘Oh shit!’ she whispered to herself, jumping off the bed and frantically searching the floor. It was nowhere to be seen. Panicking, Lizzie got down on her hands and knees and started to scrabble around in desperation. She peered under the bed and saw with relief that it had landed alongside a shoe-box full of photographs. As she retrieved it she caught sight of some pictures taken during their shared childhood. She spotted a photograph from a church outing with Bea and her in the middle of the group. She bent down in order to investigate further when she heard Alex behind her.
‘What are you doing down there?’ he said smiling. When he saw what she was looking at, his face changed. ‘Are you snooping?’ he asked with a slight edge to his voice.
‘No,’ said Lizzie. ‘I dropped the ring and knelt down to pick it up. I spotted the photographs and wanted to have a closer look. Are you annoyed with me?’
Alex’s face relaxed back into a smile. ‘Don’t be silly,’ he said, putting his arms around her. ‘They’re just old photographs. I should probably get rid of them. And now, dinner’s ready so if you would follow me, madam?’
Something nagged at the back of Lizzie’s mind and she wanted to question him further. Her thoughts were interrupted by someone pressing the intercom.
Alex went to answer it. Lizzie could hear a voice she recognised and moments later her mother appeared at the front door. She looked upset.
‘Mum! Are you all right?’
‘Oh Lizzie, thank goodness you’re here. I have been trying your mobile but you didn’t answer.’
‘Sorry, it was in my bag. I didn’t hear it,’ she said. ‘What’s happened?’
‘It’s your grandfather,’ said Stella. ‘He’s in hospital. He’s had a fall.’
Chapter Twenty
Early May
Lizzie stared at the widening sky, a bank of white cloud with the promise of blue behind it, as the train snaked its way through Essex into Suffolk. She was on her way to Dove Cottage at her mother’s request. Her grandfather was recovering after his fall but it had become clear that he could no longer manage in the house on his own. Lizzie’s mother had suggested that he come and live with her, but his reaction had been one of such horror that the prospect of an old people’s home overlooking the sea had become immediately acceptable to him.
‘I can’t leave Suffolk. I’ve lived here all my life,’ he declared. ‘I want to be near to my Ivy until my time comes.’ The subject was closed and Lizzie sensed that her mother felt hurt and relieved in equal measure.
As a result of these developments, the cottage would need to be sold and Stella had asked Lizzie if she could spare a few days to help her clear it out. Lizzie felt sad at the prospect of losing her treasured grandparents’ house, but pleased that her mother had thought to ask her.
She reached into her bag and drew out Bea’s next letter. She had decided that a train journey would be the perfect place to read and digest Bea’s words. She unfolded the notepaper.
Dear Lizzie
So I’m hoping that you were able to resolve things in your mind as far as Dad was concerned. If you spoke to Mum, she’s probably made you see how much he really loved you and I hope that gives you comfort, lovely Lizzie.
So this next wish relates to Mum. As you’ve got this far with my letters, you will hopefully be starting to understand her a little better. When you’re a teenager it’s impossible to see your mother as anything but a mother. You forget or choose to ignore the fact this person is a fallible human being with their own past and the feelings that come with that.
So I want you to ask Mum about the locket she wears. You’ve probably always assumed that Dad gave it to her but that’s not true and it’s important that you know what really happened. I only found out the truth in the last couple of years and it made me realise how much history can affect a person.
It also made me think about what it is to be a mother. Everyone expects you to be this perfect human being, always making the right decisions and choices in a fair, even-tempered and loving way. But life isn’t like that because people aren’t like that. We all make mistakes and we all have to live with them.
Sorry if this sounds a bit cryptic but you will understand in time. I expect you can see that you need to find a way to forgive her now and I hope this wish will help you achieve that.
My stupid drugs are making me tired today so this is short and sweet, just like you.
Always remember that I love you, Bea x
Lizzie put the letter down and stared out of the window. She was intrigued by Bea’s words. This letter had an air of mystery that none of the others contained. It also made her a little fearful. What could this big family secret be? Her mind raced with possibilities and she felt for her newly-fitted engagement ring, running a finger over the setting. Thoughts of Alex gave her courage. She could face this revelation, whatever it was.
As she pulled into the station, she could see Stella waiting for her on the platform, squinting in through the windows. Lizzie gathered up her belongings and side-stepped her way to the door. There were only a handful of people getting off and her mother stepped forward to meet her with a smile and a small wave. Lizzie noticed the locket immediately. It was yellow gold with an engraved floral-swirl pattern. As a child, Lizzie could remember her mother taking it off at night and laying it carefully on her dressing table. She also remembered the time she was scolded for trying to pick it up to get a better look. She could only have been four or five and she recalled her mother’s angry face as she snatched it away and hurriedly fastened it around her neck.
&nbs
p; Lizzie shrugged away the memory as Stella leant forwards to kiss her daughter on the cheek and reach for one of her bags. ‘Good journey?’
‘Fine thanks. How’s Grandpa?’
Stella swayed her head from side to side. ‘So-so. His hip’s fine, he’s just very confused. He tried to get up last night and pack all his things to go home. We can pop in to see him later.’
Lizzie nodded. ‘Are you all right?’
Stella sniffed. ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘There’s just a lot to do. You know what Grandpa’s like at hoarding things. I’ve found jars in the back of the cupboard that are older than me!’ she added, leading Lizzie to a large white van parked in one corner of the car park.
‘Is that yours?’ laughed Lizzie.
Stella nodded proudly. ‘Joe thought it would be good idea to hire one. It’s rather fun to drive actually,’ she said with a grin. ‘Hop in!’ Stella negotiated the country lanes back to Dove Cottage with surprising skill and it wasn’t long before they had arrived. ‘Would you mind opening the gate?’
Lizzie did as she was told, watching with admiration as her mother backed the van onto the gravel drive. ‘I think you’ve missed your vocation,’ she observed.
Stella smiled. ‘We’ve got a lot to do but shall we have some tea first?’ Lizzie followed her mother into the hall, which seemed echoey and empty. Her mother was already on her way down the narrow corridor to the kitchen but Lizzie stopped and looked around, her chest tightening as memories of the past filled her mind. ‘I’ve already cleared most of downstairs but there’s still upstairs to do,’ called Stella over her shoulder.
‘What did you do with the grandfather clock?’ asked Lizzie, trying to keep her voice steady.
‘Oh I gave it to Jim in the village. He’d always been very helpful to them and he’s been doing the garden for Dad over the last few years. It seemed only fair.’
Lizzie wanted to shout, That’s not fair! It belonged to my grandparents. Grandpa used to let us wind it when we stayed here. It’s part of my childhood and you’ve just given it away to some stranger! But she didn’t. She kept quiet. To say these things would be childish and she didn’t really have the right. Jim, whoever he was, had been there for her grandfather when he needed him. She hadn’t. Lizzie tried to ignore the sense that some part of her history was being wrenched from her and made her way to the kitchen. The table was covered with boxes and Lizzie was relieved to see one filled with photographs, her grandparents’ wedding portrait smiling out at her. She also noticed her grandmother’s special china, which her mother had obviously been in the process of wrapping. Lizzie picked up one of the vegetable tureens and examined its delicate blue flower design and gilded edge. She could remember Christmas dinner at her grandparents’ house when the whole set was pressed into use. Her grandmother would also use the best cutlery and Lizzie and Bea had been allowed to set the table, carefully removing the knives, forks and spoons from the dark mahogany box, like magicians performing a trick.
Lizzie’s mother was filling the kettle, which she placed carefully on the range. She turned and smiled when she saw Lizzie holding the dish.
‘I wondered if you might like the set as an engagement present?’ she asked, taking Lizzie by surprise.
‘Are you sure?’
Stella gave a small shrug. ‘Of course. It makes much more sense for you to have them. Granny would have liked that.’
‘You don’t think we should check with Grandpa first?’
Stella shook her head sadly. ‘He won’t remember,’ she said. ‘You should have them. In fact, you should take whatever you want really. Otherwise, we’ll have to give it to charity.’
Lizzie was surprised. ‘Aren’t you going to keep any of it?’
Stella looked around her. ‘I’ll take some bits in for Dad for his room of course, but apart from a few photographs, why would I?’ Lizzie was shocked by her mother’s detachment. Stella noticed the look on her face. ‘Possessions don’t bring the people back,’ she said. The phone began to ring in the living room. Stella glanced at her watch. ‘That will be Lawrence,’ she said, moving to answer it. ‘Will you make the tea please?’
Lizzie nodded. She walked over to the kitchen window and stared out. The large lawn, which had been her grandfather’s pride and joy in years gone by, was starting to look scruffy and unkempt at the edges. The trees and plants all looked huge and out of control. The kettle started to hiss. Lizzie took it off the range and made two mugs of tea. She carried one in to her mother, who was having a heated discussion with her brother.
‘Well if you’re not able to come, you’re not able to come. Don’t blame me if I get rid of something you want,’ she was saying. She paused as Lawrence replied, her face a picture of exasperation. ‘Yes I know you have a business to run. I have a life too, Lawrence, but unfortunately your family is here.’ Another pause. ‘Right, fine, well I suppose there’s nothing more to say. Yes, I’ll be sure to give Pa your love. I’m sure that will be a great comfort to him. Goodbye.’ She put the phone back in its cradle. ‘Infuriating man!’ she declared as she accepted the tea from Lizzie. ‘Thank you. Right, well we better get on. Do you want to sort out your bedroom and I’ll do Mum and Dad’s?’
Lizzie had been hoping that they would have time to talk over their tea but obviously Stella had other ideas. ‘Yes all right then,’ she said, realising that she would need to pick her moment with care.
A nurse was attending to Ernest as Stella and Lizzie arrived at his bedside. She smiled at them both as she went about her business, feeling for his pulse and checking his temperature. Ernest beamed with pride at the sight of them. ‘You see, Connie, I told you they’d be in soon,’ he said to the nurse.
She smiled at him. ‘You did, Ernest, and you said that they’d bring you a newspaper and some nice fresh pyjamas too. You’re a lucky man.’
‘And we’ve brought you some grapes,’ grinned Lizzie, holding up a punnet.
‘Ah thank you, Stella, you are kind.’ Stella and Lizzie exchanged glances but said nothing. They let Connie finish writing on the clipboard and replace it at the end of the bed.
Stella moved forwards to speak to her. ‘How is Dad doing?’ she asked.
Connie flashed a smile at Ernest. ‘He’s our best patient. And he’s doing very well.’
Stella moved to one side so that her father couldn’t hear what she was saying. ‘What about his memory? Did he have the tests?’
‘The doctor will be round soon. He’s the best person to ask.’
‘Ivy! What are you saying about me, Ivy?’ called Ernest.
Stella raised an eyebrow at the nurse. ‘He thinks I’m his wife.’
Connie smiled kindly. ‘It’s confusing being in hospital and your father is a good age. The doctor will be able to assess him properly.’
Stella nodded. ‘Thank you.’
Lizzie had sat down on the edge of the bed. Ernest was smiling but looked confused. ‘Which one are you again?’ he asked.
‘That’s Lizzie, your granddaughter, and I’m Stella, your daughter,’ said Stella with just a hint of impatience.
A flicker of recognition swept over Ernest’s face. ‘I know, I know,’ he muttered with irritation.
‘How is your hip?’ asked Lizzie.
Ernest patted her hand. ‘A bit dicky, but not too bad.’
‘I think you should try and sit up a little higher, Dad,’ said Stella, prodding at his pillows.
‘Will you stop fussing, Stella!’ he snapped.
Lizzie glanced at her mother, who remained poker-faced. ‘I’ll get you some more water, Dad,’ she said calmly, picking up the empty plastic jug by the side of his bed and disappearing back towards the corridor.
‘Always fussing, that one,’ muttered Ernest under his breath. He turned to Lizzie. ‘And how are you?’ he asked.
‘I’m very well thanks, Grandpa. Actually, I’ve got some news.’
‘Oh yes?’
‘I’m engaged!’
Ernest
smiled with delight. ‘But that’s wonderful! Who’s the lucky fellow?’
‘His name is Alex. Alex Chambers.’
Her grandfather shook his head. ‘Don’t know him. Is he going to look after you?’
Lizzie beamed. ‘I think so.’
Ernest leant forwards. ‘He’d better, otherwise you tell him from me, I’ll be round to sort him out,’ he grinned, rolling up one sleeve.
‘Thanks, Grandpa,’ said Lizzie reaching forwards to kiss him on the cheek. He shifted in the bed and winced with obvious pain. ‘Are you okay? Shall I ask the nurse for some painkillers?’
‘Thank you, Bea.’
‘Lizzie.’
‘Lizzie,’ he repeated.
Stella appeared with the water-jug refilled and a nurse by her side, carrying some medication in a small paper pot.
‘Here you go, Mr Palmer. Aren’t you lucky to have these lovely ladies making such a fuss of you,’ she smiled.
Ernest grinned at her, accepting the tablets and water.
‘So, I spoke to the doctor and you’re doing really well, Dad. They just want to do a few more tests when you’re feeling well enough.’
‘What kind of tests?’
‘Just some tests because you’ve been getting a little forgetful.’
‘I am not!’
Stella took a deep breath. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. They just want to check you over.’
‘You think I’m going senile, don’t you? You want to shut me away in a home and throw away the key, don’t you?’
‘No,’ said Stella. ‘I want to find a place for you to be safe and comfortable.’
‘A nut house!’ cried Ernest.
‘No. In the nursing home.’
‘What nursing home?’
Stella took a deep breath, ready to have the same conversation again. ‘The one with the sea views that we talked about, remember?’