Chapter 14
After speaking to Jules, I’d decided I couldn’t live out of a suitcase during my stay and had spent the hours since packing up Aunt Lillian’s clothes. The wardrobes and drawers in each of the three bedrooms were packed with her attire and while I’d begun with the sole intention of making a bit of room for my stuff, before I knew it, I’d got carried away.
It had been an enjoyable task. Getting my hands on so many beautiful garments, I’d spent longer stroking fabric than I had folding and bagging. The number of times I’d stood in front of the bedroom mirror, holding a dress or a blouse against my body to admire. From the swing pants featured in Lillian’s photo, to dresses with full skirts that cinched in at the waist; from delicate paisley blouses, to power suits with padded shoulders; there had to be original items from every decade since the 1940s. Lillian had had such a sense of style and at ninety-four years old, even her later wardrobe was modern but with a mature twist. Nothing at all like my grandma used to wear.
When I’d told Jules what I was doing, she’d instructed me to give everything to charity and even when I messaged her to say she could get good money for vintage clothes like that, she continued to insist I gave them all away. She said, “Going through a hard time doesn’t stop people wanting to look nice. And why should it?” She was right, of course. But when I considered how much it was all potentially worth, a part of me still thought she was mad.
Making my way out onto the landing with the last of the mountain of black plastic bags I’d gathered, I placed it on top of the others. “A job well done, even if I do say so myself,” I said, taking in the fruits of my labour.
My next step was to source a local charity that might want them. A food bank that extended its remit to other essential items, or a women’s charity, maybe. I wondered if I should ask Oliver Chase if he knew what services operated in the area?
A picture of Oliver popped into my head. His blond hair, green eyes, and gorgeous physique… I felt a sudden fluttering in my tummy and dismissing it as hunger, I checked my watch. I couldn’t believe where the day had gone. Forget lunch; it was almost dinner time.
I headed downstairs to the kitchen and pouring myself a glass of orange juice, decided to drink it in the lounge. Frank had been particularly quiet, and I wanted to check what he was up to. I chuckled to myself, realising I needn’t have worried. I could hear his snoring before I entered.
Thankfully, the fire I’d set earlier was still going, and Frank was taking full advantage. He lay stretched out in front of the hearth and as I watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, it seemed he was so comfortable even my presence wasn’t enough to wake him.
I headed for the window and looked out. From the cottage’s front garden wall, to the main road, to the roofline of the house opposite, everything was covered in a glistening coat of white, courtesy of Jack Frost. Unlike in London, where the iciness would have melted come mid-morning, it looked blooming freezing out there.
I closed my eyes to absorb the quiet, knowing back at home I didn’t have the luxury of such peace. If I stood in my window down in London, I’d hear incessant engine noise thanks to never-ending traffic. People would be shouting into their phones as they walked by and trains and tubes would rumble in the distance. And there was no forgetting the wailing police sirens…
Opening my eyes again, that morning’s conversation with Jules ran through my mind. I couldn’t believe she’d suggested I ask Oliver Chase out officially. The woman was constantly trying to fix me up with someone, even if her matchmaking did always end in disaster.
I’d lied earlier when I’d told Jules I couldn’t remember the last time I went out on a date. In truth, I remembered every sorry rendezvous I’d had when it came to potential partners. Not that there were loads, but it didn’t make the dating game any less hard work. Because in my view that’s what it was. A game. Not that I’d ever understood the rules.
The number of times men had gushed over my quirky choice of career. Shunning the conventional and becoming a dog walker was to be admired. However, an outing or two later and their opinion would, for some unknown reason, alter and they’d inevitably ask if I’d ever thought about getting a proper job. I smiled to myself. Goodness knew what response my latest role would elicit.
Jules called me picky. Oftentimes cynical. I wasn’t. She just didn’t appreciate how many men out there were already taken and looking for anadventurerather than a relationship. She hadn’t had to kiss so many frogs that she’d lost hope over the lack of princes out in the world. Not that I was looking for a prince. All I wanted was to be able to be myself and it was exhausting trying to meet someone who didn’t hope to change me in some way.
Then there were the out-and-out strange dates to negotiate. Like the one Jules had mentioned. Having organised the meet-up for me, as soon as she told me what she’d done I knew it was a bad idea. However, Jules was convinced she’d found my perfect man, which came as no surprise considering she thought that about every guy she tried to introduce me to. On and on she went until, despite my better judgement, I agreed to go. It had been the only way to shut her up.
Landing at the restaurant to meet him, anyone would have thought we were appearing in a Christmas episode ofFirst Dates. The room was full of dining duos, getting to know each other over a festive romantic meal. Mistletoe had been hung above all the tables, should diners wish to avail themselves, and the menu consisted of dishes likeHoneymoon SpaghettiandLoved-up Lemon Tart. Like the blind date itself wasn’t pressurised enough.
Looking back, I had to admit the evening started well. Giles Richardson had certainly made an effort on the clothing front, sat there in a suit as he was. He had the build of a rugby player, the face of a model, and the manners of a gentleman. I was impressed. Never before had any man risen to his feet upon my arrival, let alone pulled my seat out for me.
The more we chatted, the more we realised we had things in common and when he didn’t have an opinion one way or the other when I mentioned my job, I began to think Jules might have finally hit on something. The wine flowed, which may or may not be the reason for him laughing at my jokes, but either way our evening seemed to be going well. So much so, I was tempted to excuse myself and nip to the ladies, just to ring Jules to say thank you.
Then he brought his mum into the conversation.
“You should meet her,” he said.
I smiled politely, while my stomach lurched. It was way too soon for family introductions.
“You’d like her.”
I was more than happy to take his word for that.
“You have the same eyes.”
I swallowed, starting to feel more than a tad uncomfortable.
“And just like you, my mum’s a real dog lover.”
By the end of the night, I knew more about mummy Richardson than I did about the man I’d just had dinner with, and I felt way too creeped out to even think about letting his lips anywhere near mine when his gaze wandered up towards the mistletoe.
I decided there and then I was done with even trying to find the right man.
I shook my head, dismissing the memory. “And Jules wonders why I’m still single.” I couldn’t believe she wanted me to risk going through that again, except this time with Oliver Chase.
My attention was diverted when a minibus pulled up on the opposite side of the road, its doors swishing as they opened and closed. The vehicle set off again and as it pulled away, I spotted a little boy. Stood there in grey trousers, a thick padded coat that looked one size too big, mittens, and carrying what looked like a school bag, he’d obviously just got off the bus. Putting him at about seven years old, I thought him a bit too young to be travelling on his own.
He looked to his left and then right, before a worried expression crossed his face. After a moment he sighed and, sitting himself down on the kerb, he rested his chin in his hands.
I began to feel nervous on his behalf. Not only was he going to freeze out there, he looked tiny and confused and I knew I couldn’t just leave him sat on his own. Anything could happen to him. Jules might describe Little Leatherington as a crime-free zone where everyone trusted everyone, but when it came to the safety of children, I wasn’t taking any chances.
