by Kim Nash
We chatted easily over lunch and discovered that we would be taking the same bus home so went our separate ways to classes and arranged to meet up at the end of the day to travel home together. Shivani seemed to hold her head a little higher as she headed off to her first class of the afternoon and I felt a little lighter in the hope that I might just have made the first proper friend I’d made in years.
Who would have guessed eighteen years ago that we’d end up working for the same company and being with each other nearly every day. She’d been such a good friend to me over the years. We’d gone through so much together. She and her wonderful family had helped me through some of my darkest moments, when Mum had become worse and worse and when I could do no more to help and her drinking finally became the thing that took her away from me.
Mrs Sharma, who was not only an incredible cook, but also a feeder, constantly sent Shivani round to my house with cartons of food because she wanted to make sure my freezer was stocked full and that I wouldn’t go hungry. One of the other things she was amazing at was hugs. The sort of hugs where someone really takes you in their arms and holds you like they just want to make everything better. Those type of hugs that warm your heart were not things I’d had from my own mum for a very long time. The Sharmas were a huge part of my life and my past, I knew that if I did move here permanently that I would miss them dearly.
A tear trickled down my cheek, as their absence made my heart hurt right then. I popped Shivani a short message to see if she was around later for a chat. I hoped that I could persuade her to come and see me really soon to help me make some really life-changing decisions. I hadn’t made a decision without going over and over it with her for many years. I needed her help. Maybe she could come down for the regatta weekend. That would definitely make it fun. The thought bucked me up a little. Yes, I would definitely suggest that when we caught up.
Chapter Eighteen
The thing about not having a job to get up for every day, and nothing really to do is that you lose any sort of structure in your life. All I’d done that day so far was drink coffee and read the paper. And I had no other plans. It felt weird. The having no plans. I really didn’t know what to do with myself. Both short- and long-term. The only thing in my diary that week was to go to the funeral directors the next day with Dom. He’d been very kind and had text me every day to make sure I was OK. He’d obviously made a promise to Aunty Lil to keep an eye on me, but he really did seem very thoughtful.
‘Come on, Norm, shall we go for a walk?’
Norman’s ears perked up and as he looked at me, he tilted his head, first one way, then the other. He was such a cutie and always made me smile. I grabbed his lead from the hall table, clipped it to his collar, then picked up the ball flinger I’d found in the cupboard under the stairs the day before. He ran to the front door and danced on all fours in anticipation.
We crossed the road to the beach, which was practically deserted. Once on the sand, I felt nervous about letting him off the lead on my own. When Jack was with me, I felt he was the one who knew Norman better and what the dog was capable of. I supposed a practically empty beach was as good a place as any for me to try things on my own. I just had to be brave and have confidence in myself and Norman. We had to learn to trust each other.
Taking Jack’s advice, I had brought the small tin of dog treats I’d been using at home to reward Norman. I’d shake it when Norman was in the garden and I wanted him to come in, so he knew the noise well. This was our moment!
‘Come on, Norman. We’ve got this!’ I let him off the lead and held my breath. My heart was pounding.
The minute he was let loose, he scampered off down to the sea and dipped his toes in the water. I shook the tin and he turned and looked at me, and then back at the sea. I shook it again and called his name in the way Jack had told me to. He’d said if you shout, angrily or panicking, the dog will know they’re in trouble and it could be a problem getting them back, so I shouted it in my jolliest tone. I felt like a complete tit, to be honest, however, he came immediately back and sat at my feet.
‘Oh, Norman, you are such a good boy.’ I crouched down to his level. Jack had taught me to do this so that I wasn’t not talking down to him. ‘Good boy!’ I said it in a over-enthusiastic and happy voice. Jack said it made dogs know they had pleased you and that most dogs just wanted to please their owner.
He’d also said that Norman was quite ball obsessed and should come back when I threw a ball. I got Norman to stay by my side while I flung the ball across the beach. He ran after it excitedly and brought it straight back to me. We went through the whole process of me praising him again and he seemed to be really enjoying himself. We repeated this process what felt like a million times, but watching him be so happy warmed my heart. The poor little thing had been through a lot lately. He’d seen Aunty Lil die in front of him, had been taken to stay next door while they waited for me to come down, then been thrown into the same house he’d lived in, but with a new person. Every night he slept outside of Aunty Lil’s bedroom door, which I’d kept shut. The poor little mite mustn’t know what was going on. I wondered what was going on in his head and whether he realised she was never coming back.
‘Come on, mate. Let’s go and get a drink. I think we deserve one.’
We headed up to the café and took one of the seats outside. It felt good to feel the warm sun on my face. When the waitress came over to take my order, my tummy rumbled loudly and we both laughed. Looking at my watch and realising it was already 11.30 and I’d not had any breakfast, I ordered a toasted teacake to go with my latte. There were a few people dotted around at various tables but it was reasonably quiet. Norman leaned up against my leg under the table. Another step. This was the closest he’d physically been to me. Progress again. I smiled down at him and tickled behind his ears and he looked up at me and I was sure he grinned. My heart felt full, which was different to how it had felt for a long time.
Back at home after filling my face, I decided to pick up my pen and pad and walk round the house to make some – objective! – notes about each room and what I’d do if I stayed or what would have to be got rid of if I sold the house. There were so many rooms in the house that I’d only poked my head around the door of since I’d arrived. And I did like a list. I think because it let me procrastinate about the actual thing I should have been doing, by making a list about it. It kind of gave me permission to procrastinate.
I decided to tackle the library first. It was the room I used to spend most of my time in when I was younger. Norman pottered in behind me and curled up into a ball on the bed settee. I brushed my fingers against the dusty spines of all the classic novels lined up on the shelves. Dickens, Emily Bronte, Jane Austin, Charlotte Bronte and CS Lewis were the names that I recognised the most. And so many volumes of the Encyclopaedia Britannica too. I remembered doing my school-holiday projects in this room with all the encyclopaedias spread on the floor around me. They all looked so beautifully at home in this glorious room of dark wooden shelves and flock wallpaper.
A dark wooden desk sat in the middle of the room and I sat down in the old-fashioned leather chair. The desk overlooked the front garden and I wasn’t entirely sure if this was a desk you were meant to write at, or just admire the view. Beyond the beautiful plants there was the turquoise sea which was shimmering under the sun. Perhaps it was a view that should inspire you to write. I swore I could still sit in the library for hours and hours. It had felt like such a grown-up room when I was younger, so warm and inviting, at a time when I was between being a girl and growing into my body and the emotions that went into maturing into a young woman. The winged back leather armchair and footstool that I always used to curl up in next to the window now sat in the corner under a reading light and a mohair throw was arranged neatly over the back of the chair. Looking around, I breathed it all in. I still adored it and there was not one thing I would change in this room!
I was off to a good start. I flung open the
window to air the room and sprayed some air freshener around to get rid of the fusty smell of the books.
‘Come on, Norm. Let’s go.’
Instead of closing the door when I left, I propped it open with a doorstop. This was not a room to be hidden away.
I decided that the next room to tackle was going to be Aunty Lil’s room. This was going to be the hardest emotionally. Norman trotted in behind me and jumped up onto the bed snuggling into the pillows. Bless him. I knew that Aunty Lil’s cleaner had been in the day after Lil had passed away. The cleaner had changed the bedclothes and dusted and vacuumed the whole house, but I’m sure the bed still smelled of Lil. The room certainly did. I breathed in and hoped that I would never forget that smell.
Opening the wardrobe, I started to look through her clothes. When I was younger I’d thought Aunty Lil was a bit like the queen as she always very well put together, modern for her age – matching twinsets and skirts at times, very rarely seen in a pair of trousers but normally in lovely dresses that used to swish this way and that. I’d always dreamt that when I grew up I wanted to be stylish just like Aunty Lil. It used to annoy Mum when I said that, but Mum was far from stylish.
Aunty Lil once said that style was a feeling rather than a look and that your clothes should make you feel happy. I was glad that memory came back to me then. It was something I had forgotten over the years, dressing for myself rather than the occasion. From now on I would only wear clothes that made me feel happy.
My aunt always spent a lot of money on clothes and would only buy from the best local dressmakers. She’d loved treating me to new clothes too; she’d known how much Mum had struggled for money. I suddenly remembered an argument that she and Mum had, when Mum had told her to stop dressing me up like a doll and had pointed out that I was not her daughter. Now I knew that she had lost her own daughter, it all made a lot more sense. I wished that they hadn’t kept it from me at the time.
There was a little part of me that hoped I’d find something that might tell me why my mother and aunt had argued. Why our lives had had to change so much. Maybe I’d find a box of letters, or a diary even. Something that would explain. There was nothing obvious though, no hidden boxes on top of, or at the back of the drawers or wardrobes. Maybe Dom might know something, I thought. Perhaps I could ask him the next time I saw him.
Aunt Lil had some beautiful dresses and there were some in this wardrobe that would be classed as proper vintage. I took out a gorgeous green-and-blue mottled taffeta dress with a full skirt and a fitted bodice and held it up against me. I reckoned it was around my size and on a whim decided to try it on. I smoothed it over my hips and fluffed out the skirt. It felt amazing and fitted perfectly. It was a dress that deserved to be danced in along with a dance partner who would look deep into his partner’s eyes as he twirled them around.
I floated down the stairs and flicked on the radio on the hall table. I twiddled with the knobs until I tuned into ‘Moon River’ by Andy Williams. Ah, this was one of Aunty Lil’s favourite songs, how perfect, as if it was sent from heaven above. The vocals were warm and dreamy and I sashayed around the hall with my eyes closed, twirling and twirling and singing along.
As I sang the final words, I realised it wasn’t just my voice singing along, but another deeper voice that certainly didn’t belong to Andy Williams. I slowly opened one eye and groaned as I opened the other. Leaning against the kitchen door frame was Jack, who was grinning at me from ear to ear. I couldn’t help but smile back at him even though I was mortified that he’d seen me like this.
‘Back door was open. Sorry to disturb you. I heard the music and did shout your name, but you obviously couldn’t hear me, so I took the liberty of coming through. Hope that’s OK. I was just home for lunch and wondered how you were today and whether you’d consider coming along to the socialising class tonight. It starts at 7 p.m. at the vet’s. I could swing by and pick you and young Norman here up about quarter to. What do you think? Unless you are staying in with your imaginary dance partner that is.’ He winked.
My face flushed. ‘I’d love to. Give me a minute and I’ll just go and get changed and we can sort everything out. Help yourself to a coffee.’
‘OK cool. Oh and by the way, Nellie-bum.’
‘Yes?’
He strode over to me and lifted his hand to my face, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. He was so close that I could feel his warm breath on my face. I looked up into his beautiful eyes. He was gorgeous. My Jack. I felt a rush of emotion, which almost completely overwhelmed me. Would I ever think of him as anything but mine?
‘You look absolutely stunning in that dress. I have to confess I watched you for a minute or two. You were mesmerising. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.’
His eyes slid down to my lips and then back to my eyes. I bit my lip and gasped as I knew in that moment he was about to kiss me. And right then, I wanted him to so much. He leaned closer and his lips were mere millimetres from mine. He took my face gently in his hands. I closed my eyes.
Then an image of Natalia flashed into my mind, and stopped me in my tracks, and I took a swift step back.
My face turned puce and I rubbed the back of my neck as I muttered ‘thank you’ and ran upstairs as quickly as I could. I slammed the bedroom door behind me and stood against it breathing heavily and fanning myself with my hands. I didn’t know how to act when he said those things to me and looked at me in that way. I’d dreamt of hearing them all those years ago.
But I didn’t know if he was teasing me and playfully flirting or whether he really liked me – even though he hadn’t known the real me for the last twenty years. I wasn’t sure whether my thirty-four-year-old self was handling this any better than my fourteen-year-old-self handled things all those years ago.
I was going to have to tackle this situation somehow. I knew that if he carried on behaving in this way, I couldn’t be responsible for my actions.
Chapter Nineteen
When I came down after getting changed Jack had gone and there was a hastily scribbled note on the hall table saying: ‘SOZ. HAD TO GO. PICK YOU UP AT 6.45.’
At least I didn’t have to worry immediately about how to handle things between us. I looked at my watch. It was 1.30. I would fill another few hours going through Aunty Lil’s wardrobe. There was nothing else I needed to be doing and it would help to keep my mind off how Jack had made me feel.
The afternoon flew by and I had a wonderful time sorting her clothes out into piles. There were some glorious garments that I really wanted to keep for myself, but also many that were the wrong size for me. I’d have to find somewhere to take them, I thought.
A memory popped into my mind of Aunty Lil taking us to local jumble sales. Mum would always turn up her nose at the thought, but Aunty Lil’s jumble sales were not normal. They were much more upper class with lots of rich older women selling clothes that most of the time still had labels attached. Perhaps I’d ask around and see whether they still happened. I could pop round to Val’s. Jack would be at work so at least I wouldn’t have to worry about bumping into him and I’m sure his mum wouldn’t mind me asking her.
When I popped over and tapped on the open back door, Val covered up whatever she’d been doing with a tea towel.
‘Are you icing cakes?’
‘Oh yes, you caught me! I was going to ice them and bring some round to you later. They’re not the best though so I didn’t want anyone to see them.’
I couldn’t believe they weren’t anything but perfect. Val was an amazing baker!
I’d spent a lovely hour with Val over a pot of tea. We’d chatted about how Aunty Lil had been over the last few years and she’d been really kind when I got a little upset at the fact that I’d not seen her for so long and then lost my chance.
‘Sweetheart, everything happens for a reason. We don’t always know what that reason is. We were all surprised and incredibly sad when your mum took you both off in the middle of the night, Jack esp
ecially, but we all also knew that your mum was tackling her own demons at the time and was doing her best. That’s all you can ask from someone. You were just a child and had to go along with your mum’s decision.
‘I suppose what we didn’t know then was that all ties would be cut. You can’t change the past, my darling, but you can look forward and enjoy the future.’ She reached out and took my hand in hers. ‘All I’ll say is don’t spoil the future by worrying about how you could have done things differently in the past. You have the chance at a new life here in a place you have always loved and if you’d like to try to live that life, we’re all here to help you. You know that Jack adores you and would do anything for you.’
I smiled at her through my tears.
‘And if you decide that you want to go back to the Midlands, then that’s fine too. Or you could flit between the two. Whatever happens, we are together once more. It’s wonderful to have you back in our lives and we’re here for you.’
I came back from Val’s with a full heart, less guilt and a list of places to ask about donating or selling Aunty Lil’s clothes. There was a swishing shop back home that I could always go to if I couldn’t find anywhere else in this neck of the woods. A friend of mine had introduced me to ‘Rita’s Rags to Riches’ a couple of years ago. It was a fabulous find. You took your clothes along and swapped them for others and if you wanted anything additional you just paid Rita a nominal fee. Word had spread and people came from miles away and loved it so much that they, in turn, recommended it to others.
An idea started to form in my head. I wondered whether I could set up a local swishing event with some of Aunty Lil’s clothes. It wouldn’t be treading on Rita’s toes, because she was so far away, and I was sure if I popped in to see her, she’d give me some tips too. She was a lovely lady. I could check out some local venues and see if there might be any interest. It would give me something to talk about at the dog event that night – putting the feelers out.