Amelia Grey's Fireside Dream (9 page)

‘Do you think you might change your mind, in a couple of years, say?’

‘It’s possible,’ I said, with a shrug. ‘But I can’t really imagine it. I like things the way they are. Anyway, right now we’ve got enough to think about without bringing another human being into the equation. We need to find somewhere to live, for starters.’

‘OK. Let’s think about your flat first. Could you negotiate a later move date with the buyers, give yourselves time to work out a plan?’

‘Possibly,’ I said. ‘I’ll look into it next week. I just can’t forget about the cottage, though – the garden, the space, the fireside. It’s so peaceful out there – you can hear your heart beat. I really wanted this. Both of us did.’

‘I’m sure you’ll find somewhere else.’

‘It won’t be the same,’ I said sulkily.

Sunita raised an eyebrow.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘Did I just regress to ten years old?’

‘Listen. I know a good short-term cure. Hot chocolate
with whipped cream. You’ll keep a pregnant woman company, won’t you?’

*

I got back from the centre of town later that evening, and found Jack working on a storyboard at the kitchen table.

‘How was your day with Sunita?’ he asked. ‘Did you get everything she needed?’

‘It was good, thanks. You’re really interested in hearing about all the baby stuff?’

‘Yes, why wouldn’t I be?’

‘A baby monitor and some other bits and pieces,’ I said. I located a pile of takeaway menus by the doormat, and pulled out one for a local curry house. ‘Fancy a takeaway tonight?’

‘Yes, sure. Sounds good.’

‘How was your day today, anyway?’

‘Busy. I’ve been working on this storyboard, but I can’t get it quite right. I can’t stop thinking about the cottage.’

‘Yep,’ I said, nodding in acknowledgement. ‘That makes two of us.’

‘What do you think we should do now? I feel we’ve already said goodbye to this place.’

‘Me too. If we do stay here, I’ll need to think about work right away, line up another job in London for the start of term in September.’

‘Staying’s not our only option,’ Jack said. ‘We can still move, we just have a more limited budget now, that’s all.’

I paused. ‘I suppose we could keep looking … see if there’s anything we could get with a mortgage based on just your salary. And somewhere we can live over the summer without relying on a joint income.’

‘Let’s do that. I bet there are some bargains out there.’

I felt less sure than Jack seemed. ‘We’ll be OK, won’t we?’

‘Of course we will.’

The next day at school I looked around for Carly in the staffroom but couldn’t see her anywhere. I checked my phone for messages and saw one from her.

Toilets, now?

I walked down the corridor and pushed the door to the staff toilets open. Carly was leaning against the far wall, her eyes puffy and red from crying.

‘Carly, what’s happened?’

‘It’s Alex,’ she said. Her tears came fast, and she put her hands up to her eyes to brush them away.

‘Come here,’ I said, bringing her into my arms for a hug. She held on to me tight, like a baby koala, sobbing into my shoulder.

‘What is it? What’s he done?’ I said after a moment, pulling back.

‘It’s not what he’s done. Well, it is, but I can understand it. He finally told Jules about us and he freaked out.’

‘I thought he was going to wait until the end of term?’

‘Yes, me too. But apparently one of Jules’s friends saw us out together and he started to get suspicious. He’s furious that his dad’s been lying to him even though – well, you know … nothing’s even
happened
between us. Alex feels awful – he wants us to stop seeing each other.’

‘I’m sorry, Carly. God, I really thought this would be OK.’

‘Well, it definitely isn’t. We should have been straight with Jules from the start. I’ve got a class with him this afternoon. This has all turned into a nightmare. I’m just praying that Garrett doesn’t get to hear about it – that really would be the icing on the cake.’

‘He won’t,’ I reassured her. ‘No one ever tells him anything, definitely not the students. You know that.’

‘I just thought …’ Carly said, tears still in her voice. ‘I thought that a bit of time was all we needed.’

*

When the weekend rolled around I was pleased to get out of the flat. Jack drove us down to Mum’s village, Hazelton, about half an hour away from Canterbury. The motorway made way for green fields, oast houses and handwritten signs advertising fresh eggs.

I saw my mum waiting in the window of her small terraced house, waving eagerly. She came out of the house and
on to the pavement, bounding up to us, in her blue shirt dress and ballerina pumps. ‘Great to see you,’ she said as we got out of the car, giving us both a kiss and a hug. She smelled of the hairdresser, expensive shampoo.

‘Amelia. My daughter. So grown up. Thirty!’ She turned to Jack to share her mystification that I wasn’t still a newborn. He nodded and smiled, as if he too was surprised that I’d grown out of my romper suit.

‘You look well.’ She smiled. I glanced down at my faded H&M skirt and flip-flops. My hair still needed a cut. That was a mother’s love for you, I guess.

‘Now come inside, you two, I’ve been so excited about you coming down.’

We went into the house and walked through to the open-plan living and dining room.

‘The house has changed a bit since you were last here, hasn’t it?’ she said.

It looked homier now, with floral curtains, cushions on the sofa, and candles and a bowl of pot pourri on the coffee table.

‘Come and sit down. Tell me, how’s everything going?’

I settled down on the sofa next to Jack, and Mum sat down opposite us in an armchair.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘It’s been a busy few weeks.’

‘Oh yes?’

‘Actually, I’ve resigned from my job.’

‘Really?’ Mum’s eyebrows shot up. ‘I thought you loved teaching?’

‘I do. But things at the school have changed.’

Jack put his hand gently on my leg, comforting.

‘Jack and I were also hoping to move out into the country – not far from here, actually. We found a cottage we really liked in Chilham.’

‘Chilham? Beautiful village. Why didn’t you say something?’

‘We were waiting until it was all confirmed. It didn’t work out, unfortunately.’ I tried to keep the emotion out of my voice. We were moving on now.

‘Oh, what a shame,’ Mum said, putting her hands together in her lap. ‘That’s bad luck.’

‘I’m sure we’ll find somewhere else,’ Jack said. ‘Although we’ve got to be a bit more modest in our expectations now. Our budget’s dropped a lot.’

‘If you’re interested in places round here,’ Mum said, ‘and you know I’d love it if you were nearby – then I can always ask around for you.’

‘Thanks.’

‘How was your birthday, anyway?’ Mum said, perhaps sensing that I wanted to change the subject. ‘Did you do anything to celebrate?’

‘Oh, it was great, thanks. Jack threw me a little party at the local pub. All our friends were there.’

‘Lovely,’ Mum said brightly. ‘Any word from your dad?’

‘Yes, he sent me some earrings.’

‘That’s nice. Right, I think it’s about time I put the kettle on.’

Mum got up, then paused. ‘When you said you were interested in buying round here, would you consider Hazelton itself?’

Jack and I looked at each other. Living on my mum’s doorstep hadn’t exactly been in our plan. But then again, did we even have a plan any more?

‘What did you have in mind?’ I asked.

She sat down, her face animated.

‘There’s a wonderful cottage not far from here – needs work, but I reckon you could get it for a snip. The owner’s elderly and her family want to have her a bit closer to them.’

*

‘I don’t think the satnav can find it,’ I said, pushing various buttons as our guide told us again and again to take a U-turn when possible. Twenty minutes and three wrong turnings after leaving Mum’s, we were taking a detour on our way back to London so that we could get a look at the cottage she’d mentioned.

‘Mum said it was by a dirt track though. How about over there?’ I pointed to a hedgerow with a path next to it.

‘Are you sure? It doesn’t look like there’s anything down
there. I don’t want to end up driving on to someone’s farm like we did in that last village.’

‘I’m pretty sure. Look.’ I pointed to the outline of a building just visible through the leaves.

‘OK, let’s give this one a go.’

Jack turned up a wide muddy path and a cottage that fitted Mum’s description came into view. It was isolated, with no other houses for miles around, and had a thatched roof and an apple tree in the front garden. The walls were covered in wisteria, the last of the fading blooms lilac against the grey stone. If you squinted, it didn’t look a world away from the house we’d fallen in love with.

‘Brambledown Cottage,’ I read from the plate at the entrance to the driveway. ‘This is it.’

‘Looks good,’ Jack said. ‘It’s pretty similar to the other place, isn’t it? A bit shabbier maybe, but it’s the same size, the same style of porch. Actually, it’s good how the house and garden aren’t overlooked by any neighbours. I think that’s an advantage over the other house.’

I hadn’t expected much – Mum and I had quite different tastes – but perhaps this really was an option for us. I peered at the downstairs window and caught sight of a woman’s silhouette. She turned to face us. She was pale and elderly, her white hair up in a loose bun, and her eyes seemed to look out the car but somehow not see it – they were glazed, unfocused.

‘Shall we get out and take a look?’ Jack asked.

‘I don’t think so,’ I said, nodding over to the old lady, who was still motionless, staring at us. ‘Looks like the owner’s still living there. We don’t want to scare the life out of her by poking around. There isn’t even a For Sale sign up yet. Let’s get in touch with the estate agents and organize a proper viewing.’

‘OK,’ Jack said, turning on the engine again and cranking the car into gear. ‘We’ll come back. Definitely worth a viewing though, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ I said, buckling my seatbelt up. ‘Being so close to Mum – well, it’s not what we planned, but this place does seem pretty much exactly what we’re looking for.’

The cottage, with its serene setting, had brought something back into my life and perhaps Jack’s too – hope.

*

The following Saturday Jack shook me awake gently, and I buried my face in the pillow, groaning. My head throbbed, and I could barely breathe out of my nose. My skin prickled, both hot and cold at the same time, and there was a film of sweat on my face and chest.

‘Are you OK?’ Jack said, putting a glass of water on the bedside table for me.

‘No,’ I said, wiping a sweaty strand of hair away from my face. ‘I’m ill.’

Every year, when June rolled around, my excitement at
the empty weeks ahead was tempered by a bout of summer flu. A year’s worth of stress would catch up with me, engulfing me in a fog of tissues. I’d naively thought that this year, with just a month left until I left St Catherine’s for good, might be different.


Drugs
,’ I moaned, before drifting back into a foggy doze.

Jack returned a few minutes later with a mug of Lemsip. ‘Here you go.’

I took it from him gratefully, and managed to sit up in bed.

‘Should I cancel the viewing?’ he asked, checking his watch. ‘It doesn’t feel right going to see the place without you.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘There’s no point both of us missing it.’ I took a tissue from a box on the side and blew my nose. ‘This cottage could be just the place for us. Why don’t you have a look, take a few photos? You can tell me about it this evening.’

‘If you’re sure?’ Jack said.

‘I’m sure,’ I said. ‘There’s no way I’d last the journey, let alone be able to drag myself round the place. If you like it, we can go back and see it together when I’m better.’

‘OK,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back by six. You’ve got enough to keep you entertained till then?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry. I might ring Carly, see if she fancies coming over.’

‘Feel better soon,’ Jack said, giving me a kiss on the head, his hand gently touching my arm, refreshingly cool against my hot skin. ‘And if you get any worse, call me and I’ll be right back.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘Used to St Catherine’s flu by now.’

When I heard the front door close and Jack leave the flat, I pulled the duvet up around me and texted Carly.

Hi, C. I’m ill. Fancy sofa, box set of New Girl and some After Eights? You’ll be the best friend ever if you come and keep me company Xx

Carly’s reply came a moment later.

You’re lucky I’m so single. Best offer I’ve had in ages. See you in fifteen xx

There weren’t many people I’d let see me in my ratty dressing gown and PJs, hair up in a scruffy topknot, but Carly was one of them. We were sitting on my sofa, halfway through a second episode of
New Girl
and a good way through the box of chocolates I’d opened.

‘Pretty selfish of me really, getting you round here,’ I said. ‘You’ll probably get ill now too.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said, putting another chocolate in her mouth. ‘Only a matter of time; I get it every year as
well. Anyway, who knows how many more opportunities we’ll get to do this? I’m not going to take you for granted.’

‘Ah, that’s nice. Although I’m not holding my breath on moving soon. By the way, any news from Alex? I mean, Jules is on his way to uni in September, isn’t he? Surely that could open the door to you two trying things again?’

‘Nothing,’ Carly said. ‘I’ve got Jules giving me the silent treatment in class, and Alex not replying to my texts. I feel like an idiot for ever thinking something positive might come of this. Maybe I should be out on dates and meeting someone new.’

‘Don’t give up, Carls. You said before that you thought he was worth it.’

‘He is,’ Carly said, shaking her head and letting out a weary laugh. ‘And I’m crazy about him. But this is family. Since the divorce he’s wanted to give Jules security and keep their relationship strong. I don’t want to be the person to undermine that.’

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