My Year of Saying No

by Morrey, Maxine

  Without looking, Seb passed over a clean hankie and I mopped up the tears that had sprung to my eyes. It was kind of annoying that he knew they’d be there. And also rather sweet.

  ‘You’re right. You were a bit of a surprise to my family. But not in a bad way. My previous girlfriends have all been of rather a similar ilk – but that’s what attracted me to you. How different you are to any of them. Your vibrancy and vivaciousness are as attractive to me as…’ he gave a cheeky grin, which she returned. ‘All of your other delicious qualities. The thought of that dulling because you feel you have to try and please people or fit in in some way makes me vastly unhappy. And if a big wedding is what you want, then that’s what we’re damn well going to have! In the meantime, I’ll speak to my family and find out what this whole small wedding thing is about. It’s the first I’ve heard of it. I mean, they’d mentioned it, but I had assumed that was something that had come from you.’

  Jess shook her head.

  ‘Right. Well, as I say, we’ll get that sorted, but there is absolutely nothing to worry about on that front. I don’t think any of it has been meant as a slight against you, but I’m determined to make sure. And now let me make a toast. To Lottie!’

  I sat up, surprised, blinking at the others. ‘Me?’

  Seb grinned. ‘Why not?’

  ‘To Lottie and her Year of Saying No, which is apparently inspiring the rest of us to follow our true wishes. To Lottie!’

  Jess and Seb echoed the toast as I sat and turned pink. However, looking at Jess and seeing her relaxed, the tension of the last few weeks having now entirely drained from her body, it was worth it.

  27

  The next morning, my phone rang with a video call. Seb’s face, far too handsome for the time of day, grinned out at me from the profile picture. I was yet to brush my hair and had just shuffled back inside from taking Humphrey out to the communal garden for his morning ablutions. Swiping up, I answered the call.

  ‘Hello,’ I said, running a hand over my hair in an attempt to mask the worst of the bedhead.

  ‘Hello you. How’d you sleep after all the excitement of last night?’

  I laughed. ‘It was a bit dramatic, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yep. One of the more interesting dinners I’ve been at in a long while.’

  Remembering he’d been to dinner with me a few months ago, I raised a brow at him. ‘Thanks.’

  He gave me a look. ‘Dinner with you is always in a league of its own. You know that.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  I made a sniffing motion, turning my head as if to try and track the root of the smell before putting my nose closer to the phone.

  ‘Very funny.’

  I grinned. ‘What can I do for you anyway? I thought you were at your brother’s?’

  ‘I am. We’re just about to head off for a trek to tire the dog, and hopefully the kids, out, but I’ve been requested to ask for your company tomorrow at Sunday lunch.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes. It seems I may have talked about you a little too much and now they’re all itching to meet you.’

  ‘Oh…’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he held up a hand. ‘I’ve told them there’s no funny business going on.’

  ‘Funny business? Really?’

  He frowned and shook his head. ‘I don’t know how, or why, that particular phrase came out. But you get the idea.’

  I got the idea.

  ‘Are you able to come?’

  ‘Yes. If you want me to.’

  He smiled, the warmth in it doing funny things to places it shouldn’t. ‘Of course I want you to.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Great. I’ll send you the address. It’s on the corner and you’ll see my car on their drive. About half twelve OK?’

  ‘That sounds lovely, thank you.’

  ‘OK, I’ll…’ he suddenly swooped off balance and I got a view of the ceiling shortly followed by a cheeky little face.

  ‘Hello!’ she said.

  ‘Hello,’ I grinned back.

  ‘Are you Uncle Seb’s special friend?’

  I’d treated myself to a new fluffy dressing gown last Christmas in a festive shade of red. My cheeks now matched it. Before I could answer, there was a bit of scuffling, the phone was righted, and Seb’s face appeared once more, this time accompanied by the little girl I assumed was his niece.

  He gave a little throat clear. ‘I’ve no idea where she picks these phrases up.’

  ‘Mummy said it,’ his niece clarified for us.

  ‘Right. I see. Sounds like I might need to have a word with mummy.’ He turned back to the screen. ‘I’d better go. See you tomorrow then?’

  ‘Yep. Thanks. Oh! Is there anything I can bring?’

  ‘Just yourself!’ I heard a female voice call out.

  ‘I’m beginning to think I’m on a party line here,’ Seb said, his voice even but a twinkle of humour shining in his eyes. From behind him, I heard a laugh. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Yep. Have a good walk.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, giving me a quick wave before the call ended.

  * * *

  The following day, I pulled up in front of the corner house, just to the left of the drive where Seb’s Subaru sat. It was an attractive pale cream Georgian house with large windows and a gravel drive on which was parked an Audi estate and a BMW one series, as well as Seb’s car. A large willow tree draped its feather-like leaves in the corner of the front garden and a smart sign showing it to be actually called ‘The Corner House’ was fastened to one of the stone pillars at the entrance to the driveway.

  I got out, picked up the little pot plant I’d dashed to the nursery to get today, as well as the bottle of wine, and crunched up the driveway. As I approached the wide, black, painted door, it opened to reveal Seb laughing as one small child clung to his back and the other clung to his thigh.

  ‘Hi!’ I said, stepping in as he shuffled back enough to let me in, his nephew still attached to his leg. He gave it a bit of a shake and the little boy giggled, clinging on tighter. Leaning forward, he gave me a hug as best he could without me headbutting the little girl clinging around his neck. ‘You two monkeys want to go and tell your mum our guest is here?’

  ‘OK!’ the little boy released his uncle’s leg and zoomed off, leaving his sister wriggling on Seb’s back.

  ‘Wait for me!’ she wailed, as Seb moved to the stairs to enable her to get off safely without dropping to the floor. She slid off, charged down the bottom stairs and raced off in the same direction.

  ‘I’m glad you could make it.’

  ‘Thanks for the invitation.’

  ‘That’s all down to my sister-in-law. She started it and my brother was right on it. Like I say, I may have sung your praises a little more than I realised.’

  ‘I’m never going to object to people singing those.’

  ‘Fair enough. One thing though.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘My dad’s here.’ The tension rippled through him as he said it, changing from the relaxed uncle he’d been just moments before. ‘Of course, it tends to just be me he has the problem with so…’ He let the sentence drift into nothing.

  ‘OK,’ I said, determined not to make a big deal out it. ‘That’s OK. It’ll be lovely to meet everyone and put faces to names.’

  After a moment he nodded, smiled and led me through to meet his family.

  * * *

  The meal was a cheerful, chattering affair, full of good food and laughter. Seb sat across from me, and to my right was his dad. Everyone talked with and across each other, relaxed and good naturedly. All with the exception of Seb and his dad. Any exchanges between these two lacked the ease of the others, possessing an almost formal quality to them. When Seb’s father spoke to me, however, he was pleasant, relaxed and interested. Seb’s explanation about how it only seemed to be his eldest son his dad had the problem with resonated in my head. I’d thought for a m
oment Seb might have been exaggerating a little, but I hated to admit that it did feel as if he might be right.

  ‘Seb tells us you’re into gardening?’ his dad said as I finished hoovering up the last of the tangy lemon tart we’d been served for pudding.

  ‘I’m not sure “into gardening” is quite the right description any more as I don’t really have a garden to potter about in, but I wish I did.’

  ‘We can be interested in things, even if we don’t get to do them. And I’m sure you have plans. You seem like a young lady that makes plans, going by how efficient you’ve been helping Seb with the charity.’ He gave his son a nod across the table, but I noticed he didn’t really meet his eyes.

  I pretended not to notice, but I had a feeling Seb knew. Smiling, I turned back to his dad. ‘You’ve got me. I have a whole notebook filled with ideas which usually gets added to every time Gardeners’ World is on.’

  ‘That programme is one of the highlights of my week.’

  ‘Mine too!’ I laughed, adding that I had to admit part of the attraction was seeing Monty Don’s dogs.

  ‘I’m going up the allotment in a bit. Just a few things to check on. It’s only a short walk away if you’re interested in coming along?’

  ‘Oh… that sounds lovely, doesn’t it, Seb?’ I assumed he was invited.

  ‘You go, Lots. It’s not really my thing and I said I’d give Jamie a hand with something in a bit.’

  I sat for a moment, feeling unbelievably awkward and a little unsure what to do for the best. Thankfully Olivia, Seb’s sister-in-law, broke the silence.

  ‘You really should go, Lottie. You’ll love it. Grandpops has a lovely space up there and it’s in such a peaceful setting too.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ I said, looking across to Seb.

  ‘Yep. You’ll enjoy it.’ With that, he turned his attention to his niece, who was wriggling and giggling, trying to climb up on to his lap.

  ‘Sounds like you have some company then.’ I smiled, trying to ignore the feeling in my stomach and hating the pain in Seb’s eyes that he did his best not to show.

  ‘Excellent. Can I do anything before we go, Olivia, love?’

  ‘No, no. You two go on. We’ll see you in a bit for a nice cup of tea and some cake that Isla helped me make earlier, didn’t you, sweetheart?’ she said, looking across to her daughter, who was now happily ensconced on her uncle’s lap, tucked into the table.

  ‘I did! I did lots of it, didn’t I, Mummy?’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘You’re going to be a star baker when you get a bit older.’ Seb smiled, resting his chin gently on the top of his niece’s head.

  ‘What’s that, Uncle Seb?’

  ‘You know, when we watch The Great British Bake Off, and someone gets a prize for the best thing they’ve made?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I like the funny man on that.’

  ‘Yeah, sweetheart. Me too.’

  ‘Do you like the funny man, Lottie?’

  At this, Seb’s brother smirked and gave me a wink. ‘Bearing in mind she’s hanging around with this one, I’m pretty sure Lottie likes funny men.’

  Seb gave Jamie a patient look. ‘You’re hilarious.’

  ‘I am. It’s a talent.’

  His brother rolled his eyes, but the laughter was there.

  ‘Right then, shall we go?’ his dad asked me.

  I nodded, followed him out and a few minutes later we were walking up a small lane to the side of the house that led up to the allotments.

  ‘Seb said you don’t live too far away. Do you often walk up here?’

  ‘Sometimes I take the car. It depends what I need to do really, but it’s nice to take a walk. Keeps everything moving, you know.’

  ‘As someone who sits at a screen for far too long each day, I know exactly what you mean.’

  ‘It gets me out of the house too, which can be a good thing.’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘Where’s your little dog today then?’ he asked. He really did have all the data on me it appeared.

  ‘He’s over with my parents.’

  ‘You should have brought him. Maybe next time.’

  I smiled, unsure as to whether there would be a next time but warmed by the thought that he, at least, felt there would.

  ‘It’s handy being so close as I can usually see the grandchildren, even if it’s just for a few minutes, or just to drop some veggies off for Olivia.’

  ‘It must be nice to be so close to them. My parents and sister don’t live too far from me and I’m always popping in. I have friends, of course, but I think I’d really miss it if I wasn’t able to see my family.’

  ‘I’m sure. You sound like you’re close with them. That’s good.’ He nodded, his expression thoughtful. ‘It’s a shame Seb doesn’t live closer. I think he misses seeing his brother and the children. The little ones grow all the time and he’s missing out on that. And, of course, Olivia adores him, having adopted him as her own big brother.’

  I couldn’t help but notice he’d left himself out of all the equations there. ‘He has mentioned wishing he could see them more.’

  His dad nodded, unlatching a steel bar gate and pushing it open, a loud squeak emanating from its hinges as he did so. The sound apparently acted as some kind of doorbell, alerting a few of the other allotmenteers to the entrance of another of their clan and various hands were waved and greetings called.

  ‘They adore him, those kids. They think he’s just wonderful and, of course, his injury is normal to them. They’ve never known him as anything different. In fact, they love telling people about their uncle with his special leg. It only makes him even better in their eyes.’

  ‘That’s lovely.’

  ‘Yes. It’s a shame he can’t see it.’

  Before I could respond, not that I knew what to say, Mr Marshall had stopped in front of a regimentally tidy allotment plot.

  ‘Here we are. Let me introduce you to my plants.’

  I smiled, thinking how well this man would get on with my own parents. They’d been great advocates of talking to their plants for years, even though as teenagers Sally and I would both give exaggerated eye rolls and mutter something about how parents could be so embarrassing sometimes. Still, whatever the magic was, it had worked and still did. It was pretty rare for Mum and Dad to have a failure in the garden and when they did, they would have a friendly bicker over who hadn’t been chatting to that particular plant, leaving it to feel sad and die off. My parents had always been more free-willed than some, so their technique didn’t surprise me. I couldn’t help but be a little more surprised at the upright, ex-army man doing it, especially after what Seb had said, and the awkwardness I’d experienced earlier between the two.

  ‘Hello, troops!’ he said, stepping into the greenhouse and beckoning me to follow him in. I grinned at the address. It seemed there was always the odd lingering reminder of a life in the services. ‘How are we all doing today? This is Lottie, a friend of Seb’s. She’s come for a visit, so I want you all on your best behaviour.’

  ‘Have you always chatted to your plants?’

  He turned, a shy grin on his face. ‘Going to report back to Seb that his dad’s a bit of a basket case?’ He gave me a wink.

  ‘Not at all. My parents chat to theirs all the time, and although I only have a few pots on a paving slab, I’m not going to deny there have been conversations. My neighbours do think I’m a little loopy though. That’s probably not helped by me spending an inordinate amount of time in my pyjamas.’

  His dad shrugged. ‘It’s good to be comfortable.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go to the shops or anything in them,’ I added, taking into account the very particular way this man dressed. Even in casual clothes, he was neat and tidy, creases in the right place, and none where there shouldn’t be any.

  ‘No. I don’t suppose you would. Each to their own and all that, but it does make me question standards a bit when I read that some do that. Plus, who wants to ta
ke all those germs to bed. That’s what would bother me the most.’

  ‘Me too. Ugh.’ I gave a bit of a shiver at the thought.

  ‘Right, everything looks in order in here. Come outside and I’ll show you what I’ve got growing.’

  I stepped out and meandered up and down the rows with Seb’s dad, listening as he told me what was in each bed, and when they’d be ready for harvest and sometimes what he planned to do with them. Having been around the plot, we came to a bed full of rose bushes.

  ‘These look like they’re doing well,’ I said, touching one of the dark green leaves.

  ‘Yes, they seem to like it there. It’s a sight for sore eyes when they’re all in bloom, and the scent just takes your breath away, especially on a summer’s evening when the air is still.’

  ‘Oh, that sounds wonderful!’

  ‘You’ll have to come back when they’re blooming and see what I mean.’

  ‘I’d love to,’ I replied without hesitation, caught up in the excitement of the thought, the heady scent of summer tumbling through my mind.

  ‘In the meantime…’ he wandered over to a cold frame within which pots of different shapes and sizes were protected from the rain. Bending down, he lifted one of the glass lid panels, and reached in. Pulling out a plant, he stood and handed it to me. ‘For you.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. I take cuttings of those roses every year from the border here and the one that’s full of them in my garden at home, just in case any of them get a problem. That way I’ll always have one to replace it with.’ He cleared his throat a little and I realised it was the same habit Seb had when things got close to emotional. ‘This was my wife’s favourite rose.’

  Immediately I understood the need for him to make sure he always had cuttings on the go. ‘Are you sure you can spare it?’

  He gave a smile. ‘Yes, love. Positive. I always overdo it with the cuttings. Just in case.’

  ‘I can understand that. What colour is it?’

  ‘A beautiful sunshine yellow.’

  ‘Oh, that’s my favourite colour for flowers too!’ I tilted the pot towards me to read the label, bringing it closer to make sure I’d read it properly. In neat, square lettering was the name ‘Charlotte’. I looked up at him. The only man in this family I didn’t have to look up to was Seb’s nephew, it seemed. ‘It’s called Charlotte?’