Welcome to My World (13 page)

There are some people it takes a lifetime to get to know and others you understand in an instant. For Harri, Emily was most definitely in the latter category. What was meant to be a short, business-related conversation metamorphosed into a six-hour chat, happily winding its way through afternoon tea and on to a hearty pork and leek casserole dinner surrounded by the farm’s assorted pets – Freeman, Hardy and Willis, the cats; Fly, and Jemima, a rescued duck that liked to snuggle in one corner of the dog bed in the kitchen. Emily’s husband, Stu, came home around seven, much to the delight of Fly, who dashed around his ankles until his master bent down to stroke his back.

Harri watched the mayhem from over the top of her mug, enjoying the sense of peace it gave her. It had been a long time since she had felt part of a busy household, its warmth and noise pervading her being, catching her up in the casual luxury of everyday life. The last few years with her parents had been cruelly robbed of this carefree atmosphere – every quiet conversation carefully constructed to avoid the inevitable questions, every decision dictated by the demands of the disease slowly destroying her family. Whilst there was always humour in the house – her parents were adamant that being terminally ill didn’t negate the need for laughter – a leaden sense of reality hung heavily around the room, silently reminding the family of what lay ahead. Harri didn’t just lose her parents, she lost all the day-to-day, inconsequential things that most families experience without even noticing: kitchen sink conversations, arguments over whose turn it was to take the bins out or what programme to watch on television – insignificant exchanges that oiled each day and kept daily life rumbling on.

As Harri listened to the conversation flowing between Emily and Stu, she wondered if she would ever be part of that kind of effortless relationship again. There were moments with Rob where glimpses of it would appear, but if they were together all the time, would those moments naturally lengthen into a way of life? Pushing the thought aside, Harri checked her watch and smiled at the happy couple.

‘I should really get going. I hadn’t realised how late it was.’

‘Blimey, sorry, we’ve kept you really late, haven’t we?’ Stu placed his arm around his wife. ‘We don’t get visitors very often and it’s good to be able to share our business idea with someone other than ourselves or the animals. Us and our crazy dreams, eh?’

‘They’re not crazy,’ Harri replied. ‘I honestly think you’ve got the potential for a great business. It’s just important to get all the details sorted before you both commit to it, that’s all. I’ll get you a list of all the local B&Bs and have a chat with them regarding block bookings. It’s possible they’ll be interested in a discount if you can guarantee a certain number of guests at a time. You need to think about logistics – like how many people you’re going to have on each course, how you’re going to feed everyone, transport to and from accommodation, costs involved and how to work all that into a tariff that will cover everything, without leaving you out of pocket or pricing yourself out of the market.’

‘You can come again,’ Stu said, exchanging a look with Emily, ‘and not just for the business advice, either.’

‘Glad to be of service,’ Harri smiled as she rose to leave. ‘Besides, with food as good as yours, it’s my pleasure.’

When Harri walked up to her front door that evening, the clouds had cleared to reveal a full moon that lit the path as brightly as a streetlamp. Clicking her key into the lock she paused to look up past the cottage’s blue-brick gable to the stars spreading out across the night sky. A memory of her mum flashed into her mind – back when Harri was a little girl and her family was as carefree as everyone else. At bedtime one night, Harri and her mother had pulled open the curtains in her bedroom to say good night to the moon (a family tradition for as long as she could remember) and Harri had noticed the twinkling stars in the indigo sky.

‘I love the stars, Mummy.’

‘Well, you know what they are, don’t you, darling? Those are the nightlights of the angels. They put them on at night to remind us that they’re there. All the people we love who have died don’t ever forget us. They just put nightlights on to show us that they’re watching and waiting for us. So even if we feel alone or scared, we can see the sparkly lights in the sky and know we’re not on our own after all.’

It was a silly notion, typical of the tales her mum was so skilled at spinning: each ray of sunlight was someone in heaven opening a window; rainbows were what happened when angels knocked over paint pots in their art class; thunder was just God moving the piano when He was vacuuming the heavenly carpets. Yet there was something so comforting in these whimsical stories that made Harri immediately take them to heart.

She let out a long sigh, watching her moonlit breath rise into the night air.

‘Thanks for the nightlights, Mum. Give my love to Dad and Gran. I miss you all . . .’

The night’s chill shivered through her and, suddenly self-conscious, she quickly opened the cottage door and stepped inside.

The flickering strip light finally gives up the ghost and splutters off, throwing a third of the room into dinginess. Harri sniffs and looks around for toilet paper to blow her nose. True to form, the roll on the cistern is empty, save for half a sheet. On closer inspection, Harri discovers that the remaining remnant is the crackly medicated variety of toilet paper, wryly christened by Stella as ‘scratch and sniff’.

Despite the panic still gripping her insides, Harri finds herself smiling.

‘. . . And one, two, three, four . . . come on now, keep working, everybody!’

Stella leaned over to Harri. ‘
How
many sacks did you say there were?’

Harri grimaced. ‘Four. Enormous ones.’

‘You’re kidding me!’

‘. . . Good, people! Now, into your side lunges, stretch out wide . . .’

‘I am
not
kidding.’

‘So have you read them all, yet?’

‘. . . two, three, four . . . stretch even more if you can . . .’

‘No, I haven’t.’

Stella gawped at her. ‘Well, don’t you think you need to maybe
start
?’

‘. . .
Really
focus on your abs now and keep your chin nice and high . . .’

‘I guess I had better start on them soon – if for nothing else than to get my living room back. If those sacks stay there any longer I think Ron will abandon me. I was waiting for Viv to help, seeing as it was
her
idea for
her
son.’

‘. . . Keeping those stomach muscles taut, remember, concentrate on your core . . .’

‘You could always help me, if you like? There’s bound to be some completely weird ones in there . . .’

‘. . . That’s great! One more, people,
really
push hard . . .’

‘Er,
no
, thank you. This mess is completely yours, hon.’

‘. . . and now onto the other side, stretch it out . . .’

‘Thanks for the support, Stel.’

‘You’re welcome. My
life
, what is she doing now?’

‘. . . lifting the leg ninety degrees to the body and
hold
. . .’

‘That’s impossible, surely?’

Stella pulled a face. ‘Stuff
that
. . . Fancy some more ice cream?’ She clicked the remote control and the DVD froze, leaving the fitness trainer holding her impossible pose a lot longer than even she would recommend.

Harri giggled. ‘Only you could enjoy watching fitness DVDs in the company of Ben & Jerry.’

Stella scooped three generous spoonfuls of chocolate ice cream into Harri’s bowl and handed it back to her. ‘Trust me, we’re burning calories while we’re doing this.’

‘We are?’

‘Absolutely. I read it in a magazine. If we watch a fitness DVD and really concentrate on it, we end up burning the same amount of calories as we would if we were actually doing the exercises. Science
fact
.’

‘And if we watch it whilst eating incredibly calorific snacks?’ Stella grinned. ‘It’s just carbohydrate loading. All the major athletes do it. Got to make sure we can go the distance, haven’t we?’

‘Stel, you are dreadful.’

‘Maybe,’ she answered mid-mouthful, ‘but you have to admit, it’s a great way to spend a Thursday evening. So when are you going to start reading the letters?’

‘Tomorrow night. I’ll start after work.’

Stella frowned. ‘Aren’t you seeing Rob tomorrow night?’

‘He’s in Preston all weekend.’

‘Again? Flippin’ Nora, Harri, that guy is more elusive than the Scarlet Pimpernel. If you were dating Lord Lucan you’d see him more often.’

‘It’s just this flipping Preston contract that his company are so intent on winning. Rob was really upset about this weekend – he called me from work at lunchtime today and it took me nearly twenty minutes to calm him down. Turns out he’d planned a surprise weekend away for us in the Cotswolds and he was going to spring it on me tomorrow evening after work. Then his boss told him he was needed in Preston.’ She sighed and stabbed at the ice cream in her bowl. ‘I hate to see him so bogged down with work and the worst thing is there’s nothing I can do about it.’

Stella gave a sympathetic smile. ‘That must be tough for the two of you. But at least he seems to be trying to make it up to you with all these gifts and surprises you keep getting. That’s a good man in my book! So –’ she gave Harri a playful jab in the ribs, ‘all weekend with the Sacks of Desperation then, eh?’

Harri pulled a face. ‘Hmm, lucky me.’

‘Seriously, H, I reckon you should just drop them off at Al’s and tell him they’re a gift from the Gods of Dubious Dates.’

Harri laughed. ‘Maybe I should.’ Her thoughts switched to an issue she’d been mulling over that day. ‘Actually, Stel, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you about.’

A dark look passed across Stella’s perfect features and she crossed her arms.

‘Oh?’

Harri took a deep breath. It wasn’t that her best friend never did anything for her, but it had to be said that Stella liked to see significant evidence of the benefits of a situation before agreeing. ‘Well,’ she began, as brightly as she could, ‘you know that travel writer I like, Dan Beagle?’

‘The cute guy with the daft name? Yes, I know him.’

‘He’s doing a seminar to mark the launch of his new book in Oxford next month. It’s a Saturday evening and I know Rob doesn’t want to go. The thing is, I don’t want to look like a complete hypocrite after making such an issue with him about us spending more time together. I know he’ll be fine about me doing something without him on a Saturday, it’s just that I’d feel better about it if I wasn’t going by myself.’

‘So you want me to come with you?’

‘Would you? We could make a day of it – a bit of a girly day out – maybe do some shopping and have lunch and then go to the Dan Beagle thing in the evening. I might even persuade Rob to go and see some of his old football team mates, seeing as he hasn’t really seen that much of them lately.’

Stella thought for a moment, then clapped her hands. ‘I’ve got a better idea. How about we make it a weekend away?’

Harri beamed. ‘Now
that
is a fantastic idea! What did you have in mind?’

Stella’s growing excitement was impossible to conceal. ‘There’s this amazing day spa in Oxford that was featured in
Red
magazine this month – it looks awesome and I really want to try it out. So why not travel down on the Friday night, stay in a hotel and then spend the Saturday at the spa before sexy Dan’s talk? Then we could do some shopping on Sunday before we get back. It’ll be my treat, OK?’

‘Stel, that sounds
amazing
! But I can’t ask you to pay for it all.’

Stella shrugged. ‘Well, I feel bad that I haven’t managed to take you abroad yet like I keep saying I’m going to, so this is my way of making it up to you. Besides, I’m interested to see if Mr Beagle is as fit in real life as he is in the pictures in those books of yours.’

Dan Beagle represented everything Harri longed to be: adventurer, traveller, photographer, daredevil. He seemed to think nothing of heading off into uncharted territory for months on end, with only his camera for company. In a few short years, this young explorer had won the acclaim of the world’s press and the respect of his peers, redefining travel writing with his multi-award-winning books. What Harri loved the most about his work was the way he maintained his wide-eyed wonder at every new environment he discovered, whether it was virgin rainforest, inhospitable desert or treacherous frozen wasteland. Unlike the pale imitators who appeared in his wake, Dan seemed to understand and nurture an innate sense of childlike thrill at discovering new places in his world.

In her wildest dreams, Harri believed she was capable of this type of travel – never taking a step for granted as she boldly advanced into the unknown. From the comfort of her cottage, she immersed herself in Dan’s words, letting him take her by the hand to lead her into countless magical places. As she soaked in every detail, it was as if he understood the travel ler imprisoned within her, the free spirit straining against her cautiousness, bidding her to break out:
Welcome to my world, Harri. Come with me
. . .

Though she would never admit it to Stella, Harri harboured a hope that maybe, just maybe, Dan would look out into the seminar audience and see her sitting there. Instantly, he would stop talking, put his notes down on the lectern, step off the stage and walk towards her, bathed in the silver glow of a spotlight that charted his course down the hall. Reaching the end of her row, he would point straight at her.

‘You.’

Harri would look around her, heart beating wildly, before bringing her wondering eyes back to his. He would smile and hold out his hand. ‘Yes, you, Harri. I want you to come with me.’

‘When?’

‘Right now.’

And she would rise, all eyes in the place fixed on her. His large, warm hand would gently take hers and they would stride purposefully out of the hall and into the great, wide world . . .

It wasn’t a love thing; not necessarily. Yes, Dan was undeniably good-looking, with rugged features, sun-bleached hair and sea-green eyes, but it was more than that for Harri. What she longed for was to travel the world with someone who understood her completely.