Amelia Grey's Fireside Dream (27 page)

‘I met your dad this morning,’ I said. ‘He’s lovely.’

‘So, will he do?’ Callum asked with a smile.

‘Yes.’ I laughed. ‘He definitely will. Mum seems really happy. I don’t know why I found it so hard to get my head round the idea at first.’

‘Oh, I don’t know – it took me a few days too, to be honest.’ Callum closed the book and moved it aside. ‘For so many
years our parents are focused on us, and then suddenly they start getting on with their own lives. It shouldn’t be allowed really.’

‘I think that was it. Perhaps I’m not quite as grown-up as I thought I was. That and the fact I think I’m only just starting to understand what happened between my parents when they broke up.’

‘I guess marriage isn’t always easy,’ Callum said, taking a sip of tea. Then, as if realizing what he’d said, he shook his head. ‘Sorry, I mean, what do I know about it?’

‘No, you’re right.’ I thought of Jack, wondered when exactly it was we’d stopped talking to each other properly, honestly. ‘It’s not easy.’

Later that afternoon, I got a reply to my email.

*

‘Hi, Suni. It’s me. Is now a good time?’

‘It’s an excellent time,’ Suni said. I could hear her putting the kettle on. ‘Bella’s out for the count, and I’ve been looking for an excuse to open these biscuits.’

‘What kind?’

‘Double-chocolate chip.’

I went over to the biscuit tin and took out a couple of ginger nuts myself. ‘I’m going to join you, in cookie solidarity.’

‘We saw Jack the other day. He came over.’

‘I know. He mentioned it. How did he seem?’

‘OK. Distracted, I guess, which isn’t surprising. I think Bella took his mind off things a bit. Amelia, he told me he’s staying in London at the moment – why didn’t you mention what was going on?’

‘I don’t know.’ There’d been half a dozen times when I’d gone to pick up the phone to call Sunita or Carly and then stopped. ‘Maybe because it would make it seem more real.’

‘How’s it been?’

‘Strange. But I’ve got Mirabel staying at the moment which keeps me busy.’

‘Have you had a chance to think about things? I got the impression Jack had been doing a lot of that.’

‘I suppose. I don’t know, Suni. I haven’t really wanted to think about it.’

‘But Amelia – look, I know it’s not my business, but this is your marriage. It’s serious. What are you going to do? Just give up without even trying?’

‘Of course I’m going to try,’ I said as her words hit home. ‘It’s just … I don’t know what I want right now, Suni.’

‘Is there someone else involved?’ she asked gently.

For a moment I felt frustrated with her for even suggesting it. But my annoyance wasn’t really for her, it was for me. All her question had done was force me to confront what I’d been trying to hide from myself.

‘Nothing’s happened. Jack needed space to think about our future, and since we moved into this cottage these four walls have seen us bickering more than we ever have before. But yes, I suppose there is someone. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m attracted to him. I feel happy when I’m with him.’

‘Right,’ Suni said. I could hear her taking a deep breath. ‘I wasn’t really expecting that.’

‘Nor was I, believe me.’

‘And what – is he interested? Can you imagine having a relationship with this guy?’

‘Maybe. I don’t know. Like I said, nothing’s happened yet and I haven’t thought that far ahead. But when I’m with him I feel something I haven’t felt in a little while. Relaxed. Free.’

‘So this man is offering you a way out.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing. Just that I guess maybe Jack’s become bound up in all the stress of the cottage, and now you can’t separate him from that.’

‘I don’t think you can reduce it down to that.’

‘Sorry. I don’t know – maybe this guy you’ve met is the one for you. The truth is that as much as I’d like to, I can’t be completely objective. I love you, but I also love Jack.’

‘So do I,’ I said, tears welling up. ‘It’s not like you can just stop loving someone overnight.’

*

That evening I walked into the bathroom in my blue towelling dressing gown and sat down on the simple wicker chair next to the bath. I ran the tap and poured lavender bath foam under the stream of water.

The clawfoot tub was now in place in the centre of the
room, with a fluffy white bathmat beside it, the fabric soft under my feet. Fresh white towels were folded neatly in piles on the wooden dresser, with one on the antique towel rail, ready to use. The floorboards were stained to a deep chestnut, and the walls were painted in a simple white that set off the timber beams and posts. I’d draped the small window with light muslin curtains, and the sun shone through the coloured glass of the bottles I’d arranged on the sill, casting blue and green patches of light onto the floor. At last, this bathroom was the haven Jack and I had dreamed of.

I looked over at the bathroom cabinet I’d left clear for his things. I’d bought this bath because Jack and I had loved the one we saw in Arcadia Cottage, because we’d joked how it would be big enough for two. I slipped the towelling robe off and dipped a hand into the water to test the temperature. I’d been so sure that the bath would make our lives complete – and yet now there was no one to share it with, no one to laugh with or talk to. Jack had gone.

I climbed in.

Livestock

Wednesday, 30 October

‘Rachel, hi,’ I said, when I got through on the phone. ‘It’s Amelia, Rosie’s daughter. I know this is out of the blue, but I have a bit of a favour to ask. It’s to do with your farm.’

‘Would you like to visit?’ Rachel said warmly. ‘You’re welcome any time.’

‘Actually, I was wondering if you might let my sister, Mirabel, help out for a couple of days.’

‘We’d love to have her!’ Rachel said. ‘It would be great to have a hand around the place, and we can teach her a few things about farm life as we go. Just bring her round. We’ve got a few things here she can borrow: waterproof trousers, wellies – that sort of thing.’

‘That’s brilliant. I really appreciate it. We’ll be round at ten.’

Mirabel was sleeping soundly when I looked in on her in the spare room. ‘Wake up, sleepyhead,’ I said, gently shaking her.

‘
Mmmmhgruuunahhh
,’ she muttered, turning to face me and rubbing her eyes.

‘Big day ahead,’ I said.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked, propping herself up on her elbow.

‘Get some jeans on, and I’ll explain on the way.’

After a quick cup of tea in the kitchen, I drove Mirabel over to Rachel and her husband’s place, fifteen minutes away from our cottage. On the journey she was silent, gazing out of the window, and I listened to the local news on the radio. We pulled up outside the farm.

‘No way,’ Mirabel said, looking across the courtyard and towards the stables. ‘There’s absolutely no way you’re sending me in there.’

‘That’s a shame,’ I shrugged, ‘because they’re expecting you.’

Rachel, dressed in jeans and an Aran jumper, came out of the farmhouse as if on cue. ‘Hello,’ she said cheerfully. We got out of the car and she walked up to Mirabel and shook her hand. The smell of manure was hard to ignore, and Mirabel’s hand went up to her nose, covering it. ‘You must be our angel of a helper.’

‘That’s Mirabel,’ I said with a smile, ignoring the grimace my sister was making at me. ‘Thanks for agreeing to this, Rachel.’

‘It’s a pleasure – and as I said on the phone, we’re so grateful for the help.’

I could sense Mirabel’s desperation to escape. Rachel motioned for her to come into the house. ‘Let’s get started then. I’ve got some clothes for you, and then I can introduce you to the animals.’

Mirabel shot daggers at me as Rachel gently led her away by the arm.

‘Sorry,’ I mouthed. Then, out loud, ‘See you later!’

‘Fred’ll drop her back when we’re done,’ Rachel said.

‘Thanks so much Rachel,’ I said. ‘See you later. Call if you need anything.’

*

Back at the cottage, I looked up from the sewing machine at a knock on the spare bedroom door.

‘Sorry to disturb you,’ the joiner said, putting his head around the door. A man in his sixties, with grey hair and
ill-fitting clothes, he’d become a familiar presence in the cottage over the past few days. ‘But I wanted to tell you that I’m all done downstairs now. Would you like to come and have a look?’

‘Great.’ I got up from the desk. ‘Of course. How have you found it?’

‘Not bad. Quite a typical job for this area, I’d say – these old cottages all have similar issues, so I had most of the materials at the workshop. The banister spindles were the trickiest part to source.’

We reached the top of the staircase and he bent down to touch the new ones he’d put in. ‘Quite an unusual design, this one.’ He ran a finger over the acorn engraving that spiralled down the wood. ‘Beautiful though.’

He had also repaired the steps that I’d got in the habit of skipping over so that I didn’t put my foot through them. ‘I was thinking of carpeting these stairs,’ I said, ‘but actually they look nice how they are, don’t they?’

‘I’d leave them be,’ the joiner said, ‘but that’s just me. I always like things done the traditional way. Bit of a boring old fart, the wife says.’ He laughed.

We walked down to the living room, where I’d seen him working on the window frames over the past few days. ‘Replaced almost all of these,’ he said. ‘Normally I like to keep some of the old wood in place, but I’m afraid yours
were just too far gone. It’s made a big difference though, I think, to how the whole room looks.’

I looked at the living room, our living room – it was barely recognizable from the day that Jack and I had moved in and found it full of Mrs McGuire’s clutter. Now the windows were clean and sparkling, with smart new wooden frames that fitted in with the style of the cottage perfectly. The floor was all ready for a rug to be fitted – I had in mind an oatmeal-coloured one I’d seen in a shop.

I went over to the windows and peered at the frames more closely. The colour match of the wood was really good. ‘They look great,’ I said. ‘Just what we’d hoped for. Thank you.’

*

I was painting the hallway later that day when my phone rang. Still wearing my paint-spattered overalls, I walked through into the kitchen to answer it.

‘Amelia!’ Dad’s voice, playful and warm. My reaction was normally instinctive – an immediate smile and a comfortable feeling of being reconnected with him. But today I didn’t feel that. I just felt numb.

‘Dad, hi.’

‘Hey there, darling. How are things? How’s your sister coping at boot camp?’ he asked, with a laugh in his voice.

‘Really well,’ I said, holding back the full story. I realized
that my loyalties had shifted. ‘She’s helping out on a friend’s farm today.’

‘Well I’ll be damned. How did you manage that – chloroform?’

‘She’s been helping out with a few things, actually. I think she’s grown up a lot, Dad.’

‘Do you? We certainly haven’t seen any of that.’

‘She’s becoming more responsible,’ I said. ‘Not sure I’d say she was quite there yet, but she’s only sixteen after all.’

‘She’s not bad. But thanks for letting us have a break, eh. She was really giving us a headache!’

‘Dad,’ I said, steeling myself. The thoughts and emotions that had been whirring in my head and stomach for days were fighting their way to the surface now that I could hear my father’s voice. ‘There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.’

‘Sure. There’s no need to sound all serious, sweetheart.’

‘Maybe there is.’

‘OK. Well, fire away then.’

‘Daughters aren’t there for you to pick up and put down when it suits you. That goes for Mirabel, and it goes for me too.’

‘What’s all this about, Amelia? What’s brought this on?’

I breathed deeply and tried to keep my voice steady. ‘Let’s just say I’ve had a wake-up call.’

‘Has your mum said something to you?’

‘No. In fact, you should be grateful to her – she’s never said a word against you.’

The other end of the line fell silent. It was the only time it had ever happened in a conversation with my dad.

‘I’m sorry you feel that way, Amelia. I’ve always tried to be there for you, but obviously sometimes it’s difficult living further away like this. But you’re always welcome to visit, you know that, and I try to get you things to show that I care.’

‘I don’t want jewellery and I don’t want empty promises. Not any more. I want honesty from you.’

‘I’ve always been honest with you, sweetheart.’

‘Have you?’ I said, a trace of venom creeping into my voice. ‘Really, truly – have you?’