A Springtime to Remember

by Lucy Coleman

  Shellie might well be right. If Mum had known how devastating and humiliating it was to have been sacked by my own brother, who’d announced quite publicly that I’d failed to meet expectations, it would have added to her misery. He’d already told her that he was being transferred to the States and she was mourning his loss even before he stepped on that plane. We skated over the hard facts and she thinks I left my job over a disagreement. And I don’t want to be the one who shatters her illusions about who Jake is beneath the charming exterior.

  ‘Stay strong, lovely. Think of you and the baby and focus on not getting stressed. Life has ticked over nicely without him in our lives, so just smile brightly and the least said, the better. And if you need to offload to someone afterwards, no matter how late it is, then just call.’

  ‘I might take you up on that offer. If you pick up the phone to the sound of someone screaming their head off, you’ll know it’s me.’

  Part II

  April 2018

  18

  The Feminine Touch

  After a very successful day filming, Ronan and I are buzzing. We end up going back to his place and before we know it the big clean-up is in progress. With less than seventy-two hours until his mum arrives, I can tell he’s excited but also quite nervous.

  ‘I didn’t realise just how dusty the place is,’ he admits as he stretches to hit a cobweb. It’s rather stubbornly resisting the long-handled feather duster and it’s hard not to laugh at his flailing attempts to snag it.

  ‘Well, in fairness it’s a big house and I’m surprised you don’t have someone helping you out.’

  ‘Never thought about that. I don’t make a lot of mess, anyway. I like things to be orderly.’

  Scanning around, I will agree that he’s right, but it’s rather bare. I glance at him and see he’s watching me.

  ‘Okay. What am I doing wrong? It isn’t just the dust, is it?’

  His eyes are smiling, so I know it’s a genuine question and he’s looking for my input here.

  ‘It needs softening,’ I reply diplomatically. ‘A few ornaments, maybe. We can get some fresh flowers on the day, too, as a nice welcome. It’s going to be a big deal for your mother when she walks through that door.’

  ‘Well, there’s a whole load of stuff I boxed up and put in the attic when I renovated the place. Would you take a look around and maybe we can make it feel more lived-in?’

  That raises a smile on both of our faces. I love feeling needed and he’s making it very clear that he can’t do this on his own.

  It’s all very practical and I love how he’s decorated it in a way that allows the old pieces of furniture to exist alongside his vision to make it more contemporary country. But it just lacks cosiness.

  ‘All that’s missing is a little bit of texture and a pop of colour. I’m definitely from the less is more camp, too, but the table, for instance—’

  We stand gazing along the full length of the beautifully polished table.

  ‘It needs a centrepiece, not simply a stack of placemats.’

  He nervously begins to chew his bottom lip. ‘Ah, well, I will admit that is something I did intend to get around to at some point.’

  ‘It’s been, what did you say? Seven years?’

  Ronan waggles his finger, pointing upwards. ‘Come on. I’m sure there are treasures up there that I discarded in my haste to strip it all back.’

  We traipse upstairs and I brave the substantial pull-down ladder because I’m excited about what I might find. Ronan is right, there are boxes everywhere and only a small overhead light with which to see.

  As we forage through, I wonder if anything ever got thrown away in the history of this very traditional, old French house. There is an enormous amount of china, old chairs in desperate need of re-upholstering and stone pots whose plants have long since gone.

  ‘I’m assuming you prefer a simpler style? I mean, this candelabrum is beautiful, but it’s very ornate,’ I remark, lifting it up and marvelling at how heavy it is. ‘More Versailles than cosy country home.’

  He raises an eyebrow, nodding his head in agreement. ‘I like simple things; understated.’

  After half an hour of searching we have a dozen items that between us we decide will add a little something. We make several trips, careful not to drop any of our newly rediscovered treasures.

  The first is a very large, cut-glass punch bowl, which, after a good soaking in warm soapy water, is a wonderfully sparkly addition. It’s very old lead crystal and screams quality. I sit it in the middle of the dining table, and it looks stunning.

  ‘It needs a little colour,’ I point out, standing back to admire the overall effect.

  ‘Fruit?’

  I shake my head. ‘Um, no. Do you have any secateurs and a carrier bag?’

  Ronan looks at me, his eyebrows raised. ‘Yes. Why?’

  ‘Grab them and join me in the garden.’

  I head out through the glass doors in the kitchen and stroll down to the old stone wall to the rear, which is covered with rambling roses. A pale yellow intertwines with a ruby red. Both are very old stock, because they virtually cover the whole width of the wall and cascade down to floor level. It could do with a good pruning to my mind, but the prolific array of tight little buds preparing to open is simply a joy. Ronan sidles up next to me.

  ‘Roses? The bowl is a bit wide to fill with water and stems. Should I see if there’s a vase in the attic, as I’m sure I can find one if I keep looking?’

  ‘No, what we’re going to do is to give this all a bit of a trim and in the process cut off a pile of the rosebuds. Let me show you.’

  He hands me the secateurs and I start cutting. Then I pick up the fallen branches and begin snipping, indicating for him to hold the carrier bag beneath. I don’t want to strip it of colour, so randomly trawl across the entire length of the wall.

  ‘Just the heads?’ he queries.

  ‘Yep. No water. Just a pile of colourful buds that will gradually dry out. I’m choosing the dark red ones as they tend to retain their colour well and will go a deep burgundy as the drying process continues. It’s homemade potpourri.’

  ‘But won’t they simply rot?’

  ‘No. Not if you turn them daily and if you start with dry blooms that haven’t begun to deteriorate. The cut-glass crystal will reflect the colour, without making it too floral.’

  ‘I would never have thought of that. What other tips do you have?’

  ‘Well, we need to make a quick trip to the shops. A few scatter cushions for the sofa maybe, and some pretty curtains for the second bedroom. What do you think?’

  He nods, seemingly on board with the idea.

  I think we need to take this one step at a time, so I won’t mention a new duvet cover and pillow slips, and maybe some new guest towels, yet. But they are on the shopping list.

  ‘I knew this house needed something,’ Ronan says, slipping his arm around my waist and squeezing, ‘but I didn’t realise what it needed was YOU.’

  We had fun yesterday. There is this tantalising little buzz constantly going on between us and I find myself wanting to throw my arms around him for no reason at all, other than the fact that I’m so ecstatically happy.

  Just being in his house and putting our heads together to brighten it up a little made us feel like a real couple. We laughed, we agreed and sometimes we disagreed over what looked best where, but happiness is infectious. Every little furtive glance, every little touch of hands… it’s the small things, not just the sexual attraction simmering just below the surface, waiting to erupt. It’s every second you spend together as you work towards the moment you cross a line. But we’ve both been there before and neither of us want to jump in until we’re sure this is the right thing to do.

  I’m home alone and waiting for Shellie’s phone call, but it’s hard to keep Ronan out of my thoughts. I keep remembering little things that instantly raise a smile, like when he threw me on the bed after we’d just put on the new beddi
ng and I chastised him for putting creases in the freshly ironed duvet cover. My mobile kicks into life and I grab it, eagerly.

  ‘You’re not screaming,’ I joke, as Shellie’s voice filters through. ‘You survived the ordeal, then.’

  ‘It wasn’t what I was expecting, at all,’ she confirms, sounding a little stunned. Her voice is low, so I guess she waited for Drew to fall asleep before sneaking down to call me.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Jake has a wife, Brooke, and twin boys. That’s the real reason why Mum’s going to live with him and his family. I felt a bit sorry for his wife, to be honest, as she’s clearly sleep-deprived at the moment and missing her family. The boys are rather a handful and apparently they wake each other up at night.’

  I’m dumbstruck. ‘Twins? Married?’

  ‘And they are only eighteen months old. Maisie was in her element, so Jake didn’t have to win her over. He’s invited us all over to his place at the weekend. All Maisie could talk about in the car on the way home was how excited she was to tell her friends at school tomorrow that she has twin cousins.’

  This is so hard to take in.

  ‘I can’t believe he’s married, let alone the fact that he has kids. Doesn’t he feel bad that none of us knew what was going on with him? How long do you think Mum has known? For that matter, exactly how long has he been back?’

  There’s a pause. This is crazy and it doesn’t seem real. I glance around the darkened room, feeling very cut off and, at this moment, very alone.

  ‘I’m not sure. Maybe she’s known for a while – longer than she indicated to you. It was difficult to ask any questions, but I’ll find out more on Sunday. I got the impression it’s long enough not just to get the house set up, but to organise some major renovation work. Brooke and the boys only flew in a week ago, but it took a lot of planning to get things ready for them.

  ‘He’s different, Lexie. It wasn’t all about him; in fact, he was very hands-on with the boys and he encouraged Maisie to organise some games. He joined in, and at one point all three of the kids were bombarding him with little plastic balls and he was loving it. Brooke was very friendly and spent quite a bit of time in the kitchen with Mum, giving her a hand. I decided to leave them to it.’

  ‘So, what’s the story, then? Big house, big job, big plans? I hope it’s worth him coming back for, because he’s walked away from what many would think of as the ultimate dream.’

  ‘None of that came up, as it was crazy with three kids running around. At one point, Jake disappeared and when he returned, I noticed him talking to Drew for a couple of minutes. I’ll find out tomorrow what they were talking about. When Drew and I got back home, I think we were in shock and, after putting Maisie to bed, we sat down with a large G and T and feigned watching a film. Everything has happened so quickly, it’s difficult to know quite what to think about it all.’

  ‘It is a lot to take in, isn’t it? I still think it’s a huge mistake for Mum to sell up, though. Okay, I can understand she wants to help out, but even so… It’s a cheek turning her into a live-in nanny, don’t you think?’

  There’s a soft ‘hmm’ on the other end of the line.

  ‘The trouble is, Lexie, she’s more than willing. The boys are cute, and Brooke seems like a really nice person. I honestly don’t feel that Jake is putting on a front – he really has changed.’

  Throwing my head back against the cushions, I stare up at the ceiling.

  ‘I wish I could believe that, Shellie.’

  ‘I do know where you’re coming from, but you had to be there to witness it for yourself to be able to understand. Anyway, I’ll get my chance to quiz him on Sunday and I don’t intend to go softly. Pity you can’t pop back and join us for the weekend. Now there’s a thought.’

  Oh. I wonder if Mum put her up to this?

  ‘I can’t, I’m afraid. I have plans.’

  ‘Plans? You aren’t working?’

  ‘No. Um… Ronan’s mother and her new husband are here for the weekend and I’ve offered to help out.’

  ‘Help out? Are you and Ronan—? Oh, my goodness, you ARE!’

  I push away a tinge of guilt, knowing that I should have said something before now, but where do I start?

  ‘It’s early days, Shellie. Yes, we are involved but neither of us have any real idea where it’s going. All I can say is that Ronan is an amazing guy and he makes me laugh.’ I have my fingers crossed as I speak. Now is not the time to bare all to Shellie, not least because I don’t want to jinx anything.

  ‘Now you’re trying to play it down – that means it’s serious. Well, it’s about time and it’s good to hear you sounding so upbeat. Honestly, Lexie – is there anything else you haven’t told me? Like Grandma Viv had a hunky French boyfriend who broke her heart?’

  She’s being sarcastic, of course, because she’s annoyed with me. What is it with our family at the moment?

  ‘Sorry, sis. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind and I’m still trying to take it all in myself,’ I reply, trying to impress upon her that there isn’t a lot to say as yet. Ronan and I are moving forward but who knows for sure where we will end up? All I can do is keep to the facts. ‘I can tell you that I think we’ve discovered the place where Grandma lived when she was here, though. It’s a little flat above a florist’s shop. I’m sure it will turn out that she lived her dream for a year, and, having got it out of her system, she came home to settle down and have a family. End of.’

  ‘Well, I hope that proves to be the case. I don’t think I could take any more startling announcements right now. Anyway, the good news is that Maisie is coming around to the idea of a little brother, thanks to the twins. That’s something, I suppose.’

  ‘You know for sure?’

  ‘As good as. Mum did the pendulum test over my tummy with a crystal on a string. She says it’s always been accurate. Besides, with Maisie I put on tons of weight all over and this one is like a neat little football. But the morning sickness continues, even though I’m past the three-month stage now.’

  ‘Poor you, but how exciting – one of each!’

  ‘Seeing the twins did make me quake a little. I hope that gene came from Brooke’s side and not ours! Anyway, I’m off to bed. Take care, Lexie, and I’ll call you on Sunday.’

  I’m going to be an aunt to four kids. FOUR. Guess that really lets me off the hook with Mum now, as she’s going to have her hands well and truly full.

  19

  Coming to the Rescue in More Ways than One

  Ronan and I ended up going a little mad. With our arms full of shopping bags, we each had to do three trips to carry them in. Admittedly, some of it is food, as our last stop was a supermarket, but first we drove to a lovely shopping mall named Parly II. It’s near to the Avenue Charles de Gaulle and had a wonderful range of shops.

  We went to pick up a few things and then got carried away playing house.

  ‘Did we overdo it?’ I ask, as Ronan and I stand in the sitting room staring at the pile of bags.

  ‘The house needs it, but I didn’t really know what would look right. I’m excited. For me this is like having a makeover.’

  ‘I could tell. I thought you’d never stop picking things up and shouting across at me, “What do you think of this?” and that’s why I steered you to the checkout. If you want to take some of this stuff back, you know you can.’

  I feel bad, as we only went to get some scatter cushions and a couple of things to brighten the second bedroom.

  ‘No way. That’s the longest I’ve ever spent shopping. I had no idea there was so much choice and I enjoyed it.’

  I give him a look of disbelief as he throws out his arms, shrugging his shoulders. ‘I mean it. Now let’s get all of this unpacked and let the transformation begin.’

  And what a transformation. Ronan isn’t into twee little designs, but instead he loves colour, so we’ve gone bold. His sofas are quite a traditional style and have been re-upholstered in a dark grey linen. With deep buttoni
ng and a roll-top back, they have period legs with castors. I begin pulling the cushions out of their plastic sleeves and throw them across to him. He places the first one at an angle, and as I keep them coming, he sets them up in a line.

  He alternates the lime green, which has a skeleton leaf in a darker shade to add interest, with an equally vibrant fuchsia pink. I do love a man who isn’t afraid to choose pink.

  ‘Good choice. You learnt fast. I’m impressed.’

  Ronan turns round to look at me.

  ‘Hey, if you point me in the right direction then I can run with it, but I do have a tendency to overthink things. Then not a lot happens. This might sound a bit odd, but even when I was clearing out the house and doing it up, I felt my grandmother was standing by patiently waiting for the messy bits to be over. Since then I’ve been in limbo, I guess. Like I’m waiting for her to return to tell me what she wants me to do next. I’ve been living my life one day at a time for so long now that it’s become second nature to me. I stopped noticing what was around me because without her here it feels like a shell.’

  I walk across to him, raising my hand to touch his cheek, fondly.

  ‘Aww… that makes me feel sad. It’s your home now and life is all about change. Try to see that as a good thing and take comfort from the happy memories you have of the times you spent here with her. I bet the summer breaks were lovely.’

  ‘They were. Life was a lot simpler then.’

  My arms instinctively reach out and Ronan shuffles forward to close the gap between us.

  ‘I’ve never had a reason to think about making long-term plans before. But you’ve changed everything, Lexie.’

  ‘It’s crazy, isn’t it? I feel as if I’m standing on shifting sand and all I want to do is to go with the flow. That’s not me. Well, not the me I recognise, but a different version of me.’