I thought of my half-sister Mirabel over in Ireland. A sixteen-year-old whirlwind of hormones and fury. Her texts and emails were erratic, and she’d rarely reply to my messages, but we stayed in touch on Facebook. Her recent batch of photos showed her out celebrating the end of exams, looking pretty hammered. I wondered how much Dad and Caitlin knew about what she got up to.
‘I guess she’s just letting loose a bit this summer – end of exams and everything. I was the same.’
‘I bet you weren’t,’ Caitlin said. ‘She’s a wild horse that one.’
‘Anyway, Caitlin,’ I said, ‘I was just calling on the off-chance—’
‘If it’s about the loan,’ Caitlin said, ‘I’m so sorry your dad hasn’t got around to paying you back yet. I know he’s been meaning to—’
‘No, it wasn’t about that. I was just calling to say hi, see how you both are.’
‘Oh, good,’ Caitlin said, sounding relieved. ‘We’re rubbing along, love. Looking out for the green shoots, like the rest of the country, eh?’
‘Well, give my love to Dad and Mirabel, would you? Let them know I called.’
‘Of course,’ Caitlin said. ‘I’m sure Joe’ll be sorry he missed you.’
I put the phone down. I’d try him again in a week or so. I always got there in the end.
37 Birchwood Avenue, Streatham (1992)
I heard a car pull up outside. It was still dark, and even without checking my alarm clock I knew it was nowhere near time for school. I opened my pink curtains and peeked out onto the street, lit golden by street lamps. The car was red. I hadn’t seen it before, and I couldn’t see who was inside.
I climbed back under the covers and tried to get to sleep, but even with the duvet over my head I could hear Mum and Dad arguing in the corridor. In the corner of my room was my brand new dolls’ house, a gift from Dad. I’d got it earlier that week, but I hadn’t played with it much yet. I wanted to keep it all perfect until my friends came round to see it. Dad had been happy bringing it home and showing it to me, but my mum had been annoyed for some reason. She always seemed to be angry these days.
I heard Mum’s voice getting louder now. I crept out of bed and went over to my door, then crouched beside it, listening. Dad’s voice took over.
‘You’re making this impossible for me, Rosie,’ he said. ‘I’ve given you options, and you’ve thrown them all back in my face. It’s like you’ve stopped caring.’
‘Options,’ Mum snapped back. ‘Hardly, Joe.’
‘You only think of yourself, and I’m tired of it.’
‘Me?’
‘We’re both too young to be feeling like this,’ Dad said. He sounded exhausted, his voice softer now. ‘It seems like you need to be on your own for a while. I know you’ve always put yourself first, Rosie – used not to, but when we had Amelia things changed, for me anyway. I guess they never did for you. She needs to be our priority now, and watching us at each other’s throats isn’t going to help her.’
‘You really think I don’t care about this family?’ ‘I can’t do this any more, Rosie. You’re forcing my hand, and I resent you for it.’
The door slammed and a car engine started up. That was the last night the three of us were under the same roof.
A month later, the sign went up:
FOR SALE
Semi-detached family home with garden
At school that week the cottage was all I could think about. When my mobile buzzed at breaktime, and I saw Darren the estate agent’s number flash up, my heart lifted.
‘Hi, Amelia, it’s Darren. From Grove and Co.’
‘Hi,’ I said, hoping that the nerves in my voice didn’t give my interest away.
‘You and Jack asked me to keep you updated on Arcadia Cottage, so I wanted to let you know that we’ve just received an offer for it.’
I moved away from the buzz of teachers chatting in the corner, and sat down in a quieter part of the staffroom. Damn. Those people in the Jaguar – it had to be. Should have known.
‘Right,’ I said, wondering how to play it. We would probably be able to afford the cottage if we accepted the offer we already had on our flat – if those buyers were still around and interested.
‘The vendor’s currently considering the offer. Would you and Jack be interested in offering too?’
‘Maybe,’ I said, checking the wall clock – ten minutes till I had to get to my next class. Numbers raced through my head: the offer we’d had on our flat, survey and solicitors’ fees, moving costs. ‘Actually, yes, we’re keen – really keen – but there are a few things we still need to work out. Could I let you know by tomorrow, Darren?’
‘Sure – although tomorrow would be the latest. The vendors want this sale tied up as soon as possible.’
‘Let me talk to Jack tonight,’ I said, ‘and we’ll get right back to you.’
I put down the phone, feeling fiercely territorial. Someone wanted to get their hands on our cottage. Our new dream life. There was no way we could let them.
*
Back at the flat that evening, I sat on the sofa in a daze, thinking over our options. I’d called our estate agent and he seemed confident that the couple who’d offered on our flat would still want it – he said he’d check the next day. My cup of tea had gone stone cold by the time I heard Jack’s key turn in the lock.
‘Hey,’ he called out. ‘I picked up some food for us. Do you fancy Thai green curry tonight?’
It was my favourite meal, but right then I couldn’t muster any appetite. I got to my feet and went out to the hallway to give Jack a kiss hello.
‘You look weird,’ Jack said.
‘Do I?’ I said, tidying my dark ponytail self-consciously.
‘Yes. Your eyes are all sort of excitable.’
‘We need to chat,’ I said. ‘About the house.’
‘OK,’ he said, still trying to read my expression. ‘Let me put this stuff down and I’m all yours.’
Jack put the shopping bags down in the kitchen, and then turned to give me his full attention. ‘What’s up?’
‘Darren called – there’s an offer on the cottage. If we don’t go in now, we’ll lose it.’
‘Right,’ Jack said, taking a deep breath. ‘And how long do we have to decide?’
‘Tonight. That’s it. Our estate agent’s going to confirm tomorrow if the offer on this place still stands.’
‘OK,’ Jack said. ‘It’ll be tight though, won’t it?’
‘I’ll get that loan back from my dad – that’ll help,’ I said. ‘Think of it, Jack – we’d have all that wonderful space indoors and the garden in the summer to entertain people in. We’ve both said at different points that London living was wearing us out. Do we really want to spend the next ten years of our life here, without having tried out anything else?’
‘I did get a great feeling when we were there.’ He put a hand out to touch the wall of the living room and looked at the compact space. ‘We’ve had some good times here though, haven’t we?’
‘Yes, we have. We’ve had some amazing times here, but moving on doesn’t undo any of that.’
‘I suppose.’ Jack paused. ‘It could be pretty exciting, couldn’t it?’ he said, his eyes meeting mine.
‘I think so.’ I tried to keep my excitement in check. ‘What do you think? Shall we do it? Make an offer?’
‘Yes,’ Jack said, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. ‘I think we should.’
We stared at each other for a moment. This was the biggest ‘Yes’ in our relationship since I’d accepted Jack’s offer of marriage on a windswept beach in Cornwall two and a half years previously.
‘God, where do we start?’ I laughed.
‘By working out our budget?’ Jack said. ‘From what you were telling me it sounds like we might need to go in above the asking price if there’s another buyer involved already.’
We sat up that evening, jotting down figures and making plans. When my eyelids started to droop, I climb
ed into bed beside Jack and took hold of his arm and squeezed it. He brought me close, and kissed me. We both felt it, I think. That our lives were just about to change.
*
At lunchtime the next day, I called our estate agent to accept the offer on our flat, then rang Darren, with Carly by my side for moral support.
‘Think Kirstie Allsopp,’ Carly mouthed elaborately at me as I greeted him. I tried my hardest to channel Kirstie, keeping the real me – trembling with nerves – under wraps.
‘I’m pleased to say that Jack and I would like to make an offer on Arcadia Cottage.’
‘Great.’
I took a deep breath, and spoke again ‘Our offer is £350,000.’
‘OK. I’ll speak to the vendors now and be back in touch shortly.’ Darren’s voice was cool and professional, giving nothing away.
I put the phone down, excitement, anticipation and a little bit of blind terror bubbling up inside me.
‘What?’ Carly said, frustrated after hearing only half of the conversation.
‘Oh, sorry – he’s going to call us back. He has to speak to the vendors first.’
‘We have to wait?’ she said, her forehead creased.
‘I thought you didn’t want us to move?’
‘I don’t!’ Carly said. ‘But still, the suspense …’
‘I’ll meet you in the canteen in ten,’ I said. ‘I’m just going to call Jack and update him.’
Jack sounded as anxious as I felt when he answered his mobile, and I filled him in on the offer I’d made.
‘I’ll call you the moment I hear anything,’ I reassured him. ‘I guess it might be later today. I didn’t ask.’ I should have asked, I realized. ‘In the meantime you get back to work – without that we’ll struggle to pay the mortgage wherever we’re living.’
‘The moment you hear anything?’ he asked.
‘The very second. I’m not going to decide anything without you.’
‘I hope it works out,’ he said. ‘You know what? Since last night I’ve been getting really excited about this. I can see us there and—’
‘We’ve done what we can, and it’s out of our hands now. I’m sure we’ll hear back soon.’
‘OK,’ Jack said. ‘Thanks for making the call.’
I walked towards the canteen to meet Carly, my stubbornly silent phone in my pocket, willing it to ring.
*
‘At the end of term we’ve got a class trip to see Romeo and Juliet at the Globe theatre,’ I announced to 10E. ‘Could you all take one of the forms on my table and get it signed by your parents or guardians?’
‘Day off!’ Shanice shouted from the back of the class. ‘Whooop! Thanks, Miss Grey.’
‘Glad to see you so excited, Shanice.’ I was distracted by an eraser whizzing past my nose. ‘Who threw that?’
A dozen blank faces in the first few rows looked at me innocently.
‘We’ll be doing some classwork related to the performance in the coming year, so it’s not optional. This is an amazing opportunity for you to see one of Shakespeare’s plays performed in the way it would have been during his time.’
‘Boring,’ came a voice from the back.
‘Rupesh,’ I said, ‘you’re welcome to stay here and take down the class displays if you’d prefer that?’
‘Nah,’ he replied. ‘I’ll probably go. Hey, Miss. Is Trey going?’
‘Yeah, what happened to Trey?’ Shanice chimed in.
I glanced over at his empty desk unconsciously. ‘Your guess is as good as mine right now. But if any of you see him, please tell him to get in touch.’
‘I seen him, Miss,’ said Andy, from over by the window. His pale golden hair was close-cropped, the skin on his cheeks reddened slightly with acne.
‘You have?’
‘Yeah. He lives on the same estate as me. I tried to talk to him, but his brother Sean told me to stay away, that Trey was with him now, he wasn’t coming back to school.’
Sean. Not the best result.
‘I know his brother thinks I grassed him up for hitting me,’ Andy said, ‘but I never did – we were only messing around. Garrett saw what he wanted to see.’
‘Garrett’s a knobhead!’ another boy shouted out.
‘Paul,’ I swung to face the student who’d shouted out, ‘why don’t we go and visit the head after class. If you feel that strongly you might want to say it to his face?’
‘Aw, no, Miss, not again,’ Paul said. Laughter broke out across the classroom.
‘Right.’ I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Now, if no one else has a burning urge to be sent to the Head, let’s get on with the lesson. In groups of four, consider the question on the board: 1984 – what aspects of Orwell’s novel can we see in our modern world?’
With the scrape of chairs, the students arranged themselves into groups with a few muttered complaints about who they’d been put with. ‘I’ll take that, thank you,’ I said to Paul, who was googling the question on his iPhone. I took the phone and put it in my pocket.
‘Nah …’
I gave him my steeliest look and he fell quiet.
The class fed back their answers and I was heartened to see that some of the students did at least seem familiar with the text I’d set them. The bell went.
‘See you all tomorrow,’ I called out. ‘Paul, wait behind, please. Let’s go to Mr Garrett’s office now and I’ll let him decide, after he’s heard the full story, whether he thinks you deserve your phone back.’
We walked together down the corridor. ‘You got a husband, Miss?’ Paul asked chirpily.
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Because you’re pretty.’
‘Don’t think you can charm me, Paul Reilly,’ I said, feeling a faint glow nonetheless.
‘I saw your ring, anyway,’ he said with a wink.
I knocked on Lewis’s office door.
‘Come in.’
‘Hi, Mr Garrett. I’ve got Paul Reilly here, who wants to let you know what he did in my class today.’
‘Paul,’ Lewis said, taking off his reading glasses and putting them to one side on his desk. ‘Welcome back. Again.’
‘I’ve got his phone in the confiscation locker. Just let me know what you decide.’
‘Sure,’ Lewis said. ‘Oh, and Ms Grey, before you go – are you free for a meeting tomorrow lunchtime? There’s something I was hoping to talk to you about.’
‘Of course,’ I said. Perhaps this was it. The news I’d been waiting for about the Head of English job. ‘I’ll see you here at one.’
Lewis gave me a nod, revealing his scanty combover, and I closed the door.
*
I went to my car shortly afterwards, and loaded my bag and books onto the back seat. My mobile buzzed in my pocket.
I scrambled to answer it. The cottage. I checked the number and clocked the dialling code – Kent. It had to be Darren. I sat in the driver’s seat trying to steady my nerves. Our whole future could rest on this yes or no.
‘Amelia!’ Mum – of course.
‘Hi,’ I said. Her caller ID hadn’t shown up this time. ‘Where are you calling from?’
‘A friend’s house,’ she said. ‘I’ve been thinking, about your birthday. Is there anything in particular you’d like? Are you still into sewing? I could look into one of those craft courses …’
I heard a beep – another call was coming through. ‘Lovely, yes. Sorry, Mum, I’ll call you back.’ I switched calls before she could reply. Forget manners, this was too important.
‘Have you heard anything?’
Jack, I realized, feeling slightly disappointed. ‘Not yet. I’ll let you know when I do. STOP THAT!’ I shouted through the open car window. The football that had been thrown against my car bonnet rolled gently to the ground, leaving a slight indentation in the metal.
‘Sorry, Miss,’ said one of my Year 7 girls, scurrying over to collect it.
‘No ball games in the car park, Cassie. You know that.’
‘I just called a second ago and the line was engaged, so I thought—’
‘I was on the phone to Mum.’
‘Oh. OK, I’ll wait to hear then.’
‘See you at home.’
I started the engine and drove out of the car park and on to the main road, the familiar route home, listening to a Strokes CD Jack had left in the stereo. Caught up in a traffic jam on Hackney High Street, I pressed the button to wind down the window and let in some fresh air. Instead the car filled with fumes and the smell of a nearby kebab shop. Coughing, I pressed to wind it back up again. A different life was out there for us – we’d both glimpsed it. I crossed my fingers on the steering wheel. Please let us get the cottage, I prayed. Please.
Maybe our offer wasn’t high enough, I thought to myself. If it was the Jaguar people they wouldn’t be short of a few quid. I didn’t want to lose the cottage.
I parked outside the flat and climbed the exterior stairs to our floor. The faint smell of urine that could normally be ignored was brought out by the heat of the summer’s day. I let myself in. We were lucky – really lucky. We had our own place – something most people our age didn’t – and we had each other.
Dexter arched his back and I bent down to stroke him. ‘Hello, Dex. Did you miss me?’ He pressed his head against my hand.
My phone rang. As I reached for it, I reminded myself to breathe.
‘Amelia, hi. It’s Darren.’
Breathe, I told myself.
‘I’m pleased to say that the owner has decided to accept your offer. Arcadia Cottage is yours.’
I leaned against the wall of the kitchen and tried to take it in. ‘That’s fantastic news.’
Chapter 4
Arcadia Cottage
For Sale
Seventeenth-century cottage with thatched roof in the picturesque village of Chilham, Kent. Three bedrooms, all original features, beamed ceilings – excellent condition. Large garden with a summer house. Must be seen, early viewings advised. Contact Grove & Co.
Thursday, 16 May
Jack came back from work that night full of excitement after my call. ‘We did it,’ he said, looking bright but dazed. ‘We’re moving to the countryside!’ He beamed, his initial hesitancy now only a distant memory.
Amelia Grey's Fireside Dream Page 4