To Love a Way of Life (3 page)

“Let me tell you my perfect night then. I sit with the fire, and Stan by my feet, if I can get him off the couch. There’s a good radio documentary on, and when it finishes I read my book. Occasionally I go for a drink with my friends.”

“What do you like to read?”

“Science books, biographies. I like a good sci-fi if it really shows the potential of what humans can do.”

“You like people with hope,” she said.

“I like people who can dream and achieve the important things.”

“This goes back to your life in London, doesn’t it?”

The bar had gotten busier since they had arrived. A murmur had filled the room but Emma had fallen fully into Patrick’s words. He captivated her. She felt like a little schoolgirl talking to a young teacher who seemed to have it all figured out. He just knew things, and what to say, and how to live.

“You’re too sharp,” he said. “You’re right, I don’t want to see anyone wasting their life, not on things that don’t matter.”

“You can’t help what other people do.”

“I can help some people.”

“And you’re doing that, but you can’t let the weight of the world rest on your shoulders.”

“I know, I’m not trying to complain.”

“I didn’t think you were complaining, maybe you’re too good,” Emma said.

“There’s no such thing.”

“Come on, let’s talk about books.”

Emma spent the next hour talking books and novels with Patrick. She was a voracious reader and it seemed Patrick was too. They read different genres but their love for language, and a story and real characters was just the same.

The high point was when Patrick started talking about mixed metaphors, Emma couldn’t abide them and it seemed he couldn’t either. She had just read a romance novel where the author did it on purpose. It was a romantic comedy and the hero had a love of bad English, the heroine cracked up when he deliberately messed up his allusions. It took a great author to carry that level of bad dialogue, not that the dialogue was bad, it was purposeful, but the character saying the words was deliberately being silly.

It was getting late and Patrick said he was tired, but he was happy to walk Emma home. She declined, she’d get a taxi. She was too weary to pound out the few miles home. Her weeks of unemployment had really stressed her, and that was exhausting her.

They were passing a late night café and a mischievous look came into Patrick’s eye.

“What are you up to?” Emma asked.

“They have great chocolate here, and pastries.”

“It’s gone midnight,” she said.

“You can always do with another treat,” he said. “Stan taught me that.”

Patrick took Emma’s elbow and escorted her into the little café. It was one of two that were open 24 hours in the city. It was a little late for the evening coffee drinkers, and just that bit too early for the insomniacs and after-club partiers.

“I’ll have a coffee,” Patrick said, “And two of the truffles, and four squares of the 90% chocolate, please.” Emma could see him get excited at the prospect of his treats.

“I’ll just take a hot chocolate,” she said. “I’ve not been sleeping well and I don’t want to be up all night.”

They waited for their drinks and soon were taking up a table with low slung armchairs you could really collapse into.

“Is it stress that’s been affecting your sleep?” Patrick asked.

“I don’t know,” Emma said. “Maybe. I was always so tired after work that with nothing on my plate I guess I just don’t get drained enough.”

“You can go for a walk with me and Stan, a good few hearty miles and we’ll tire you out.”

“Is Stan eager for walks?”

“He likes them, which is good because he eats so much.”

“Just like you!” Emma said. Patrick sucked his gut in, not there was much gut there. His work in the countryside kept him busy, and was often quite physical.

“I guess you can’t sleep with your windows open,” Patrick said.

“What do you mean?”

“I had trouble sleeping when I left London. I was still fixing up my cottage, I had no curtains up and one night I decided to sleep with the windows open.”

“Lots of flying critters, and bugs I’m guessing?”

“Not if you keep the light off. Mostly I learned that with the windows open I could feel the cool air on my skin and a little breeze, I could see that special darkness in the countryside where there’s only starlight to illuminate the night.”

“I’d just hear cars and the odd drunk at 4am.”

“I thought that. I think you might sleep better in the countryside.”

“Maybe,” Emma said. “Someday,” she trailed off.

“What do you want from your life, Emma?”

“A big question for midnight,” Emma said. She was trying to joke but it was a question that was playing on her mind a lot recently.

“We always have time to reconsider,” he said. “It’s never too late to make a change for the better.”

“You did that, didn’t you?”

“It was the best thing I could do for myself, and it was the right thing to do.”

“Was it hard?”

“At first, but once I saw the countryside, and slept in that bed with the windows open I knew it was for me.”

“Do you have any regrets?”

“Lots,” Patrick said. “But I figure I did what I needed to do at the time, I did what was right for me in the moment.”

“I don’t think I can even imagine what’s right for me at the moment.”

“Put one foot ahead of the other, we’ll get you dealing with my mucky farmers and if you find it’s right for you we can go from there.”

Patrick finished his last square of chocolate and they were ready to go. Emma knew Patrick had given her a lot to think about. When they left each other by the taxi rank Emma struggled over whether she should hug Patrick goodbye. This was a business relationship but it felt like more than that. Like they were becoming friends.

Patrick was quiet, and short with words but when he spoke he really opened up. She didn’t think he’d be uncomfortable with a parting hug, but she wasn’t sure herself. She’d never worked with someone like this.

He answered her doubts, he looked down on her kindly with his weather roughened face and took her in his arms. She’d feel nervous with other people if they encompassed her so fully, but Patrick was a man with real depth. She knew he meant he cared with his embrace.

She could feel his stubble bristle against her ear. It made her think of all the strong men she knew, and made her think of the one strong man she didn’t have, a father. She didn’t think of Patrick as that, he was older than her but he was the type of man she’d want to raise children with. He’d be open with his love for them.

Emma slouched into the taxi and gave the driver her address. She almost nodded off at least once on the journey home. Thankfully the driver could see was tired and didn’t try to start a conversation.

She changed into her pyjamas when she arrived home, and set a mug of tea next to her bed. Since she had been laid off it had taken her far too long to fall asleep, and she’d need something relaxing to help her nod off. She didn’t need it after her night with Patrick, she felt restful and at peace, her immediate future was safe. She fell asleep thinking of her mother, and Patrick, and of raising children. Children with a man as kind as Patrick as their father.

***

E
mma rose a little late the next day. It was the most rest she had had in weeks. She put on her big thick slippers and saw the full and cold mug of tea next to her bed. She hadn’t needed it the night before and that made her smile.

She put on the kettle and made a fresh mug. She thought of the fruit tea Patrick had for her in the restaurant the previous night, it must have been from one of his client’s. That was the theme of the night. Well, that and getting to know each other.

She went to her front door and picked up the newspaper she had delivered. She read the paper religiously ever since she was in college, she liked to stay informed. She’d have to cancel her delivery soon, the physical paper was just a luxury she couldn’t afford anymore. She could get her news on her tablet but she knew it wouldn’t be the same.

She settled in to read and had finished her first pass-through when she decided to text Sandra. She had a response quick enough, she was in town and had just picked up a box of cupcakes from the new bakery that opened. Did she want her to come over for a natter? A chat sounded great to Emma and the prospect of cupcakes made it even better.

She went and washed her face as she waited for Sandra to arrive.

When she opened to the door to Sandra she bust through, full of energy and brightness. “You’re still in your pyjamas?”

“And I don’t plan on changing out of them,” Emma said.

“Did you have a fulfilling night last night?” Sandra was pure filth.

“I had a business meeting and I’ll tell you all about if you give me a cupcake.”

“I asked for some without any frosting. I know you prefer them that way, you weirdo.”

“Coffee for you I’m guessing?”

“Please.”

She put on the kettle again, enough water for her own tea and Sandra’s coffee.

“So tell me all about this business meeting.” Emma could hear the stress Sandra put on ‘business.’

“It was great,” she said. “It looks like I’ll be busy for at least two months.”

“Busy with what though?”

“Patrick already has new clients now that people have heard he has an accountant on the books, this could really mean something for me.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Yes, and I ignored what you meant, because it’s not like that with us,” she said.

“Us?” Sandra raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, in our business.”

“Aren’t you getting a little invested in this ‘business?’”

“He talked about us being partners last night.”

“Sexy partners,” Sandra said.

“It’s really not like that,” Emma said.

“And why isn’t it like that? He’s a good looking man, nice and grizzled, if a little old.”

“He’s 39, not even ten years older than me.”

“Exactly ten years older than you. I bet he knows a thing or two.”

“He’s not that kind of man,” Emma said.

“What kind of man is he then?”

“He cares, about people, about doing good.”

“All men say, that none of them actually care.”

“He does. He’s kind, he’s really helping me.”

“You like him don’t you?”

“Yes, but—“

“But what? If you like him.”

“But this is a real opportunity for me, and he sees me as a business partner.”

“You can’t see the wood for the trees, my girl,” Sandra said.

“I wouldn’t mind living somewhere with trees.”

“So you like this guy. What are you going to do about it?”

“That’s the thing,” Emma said. “I don’t know if I like him or if I like his lifestyle.”

“What’s the appeal to both?”

“I like that he’s relaxed, and calm and considerate, but I don’t know if that’s because his life is relaxed and calm.”

“Is it just the security? That you have work now.”

“I like the work. I like knowing I won’t waste all my savings, but the thought of being involved with small producers and people making crafts and artisanal foods is just the type of business I want to be in.”

“Maybe you’re burned out from commerce?” Sandra said. “Look at this as a holiday, you don’t have to commit to anything. Just see how it goes.”

“But what if I do like him?” Emma asked.

“Was you’re talk all business?”

“No, we talked about family, and his father’s death, and our careers, and Mam.”

“Those are touchy subjects for you.”

“And it was fine with him.”

“Do you like him?” Sandra said.

“Isn’t that what we’re talking about?”

“No, do you like him, down there where the action happens?”

“I don’t know. He’s attractive, he’s got this man’s man thing going on, but when I look at him I think of fathers and raising children, and the kind of life where things are good.”

“That’s serious girl, he’s not signed up for that.”

“I know! I know that! How can I keep up this business when I look at him like someone I want to settle with?”

“Would you leave the city?”

“I like the idea of a quiet life in the country.”

“You’d abandon me?”

“I have a car, I’d visit. I’d have to see my mother every week or two, and you.”

“I know that, I was playing with you,” she said. “Have you talked money?”

“Not exactly,” Emma said. “A lot of those farmers rely on seasonal income.”

“He might stiff you.”

“Jesus! Sandra!”

“Not like that. I’m not that bad!” She said. “I mean he might not value your qualifications and work.”

“If that happens I’ll at least have experience in the area. I can go my own way.”

Emma paused, her mind was racing. This was all so sudden. In a week she’d gone from not having any business to having at least a full two months of work. She knew Patrick wouldn’t mess with the money, or at least she believed it. She’d be set up in a new area of tax and accountancy, and she was looking at changing her entire life, or at least thinking about it.

“What’s the worst that happens?” Sandra asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Well you need to figure that out.”

“I don’t think anything bad will happen.”

“Sit down, and think about it, if this goes bad what happens then? At least prepare for it.”

“I suppose if I put in two months of work, make no money and Patrick turns out to be an asshole.”

“And what’s the worst part about that? Two months wasted, a lack of money, or Patrick being a douche?”

Emma new the answer instantly. That she was so clear on it frightened her a little, it set out fully what she needed to do. Maybe this was a good thing, maybe this was the clarity she needed. Sandra had worked her. She had her riled up and pushed and she managed to make Emma reach her own conclusions.

“Patrick—“ Emma said.

“You’re worried he turns out different to the person you think he is.” Sandra said.

“I’m worried I like him and I’m not ready for that, it’s not where I need to be.”

“You have your answer,” Sandra said. “Now let’s figure out what you do.”