‘Oh, Mum…I don’t know if I can face it. I’m so sick of being a doormat, of being laughed at. I’ve lost all my ability to judge how these things are going, how do I know if I’m being an idiot? What if he’s not really interested, seriously, and then he ups sticks to rush off and live in Greece with his lumps of wood or, worse, sets up home here withher? How can I know?’
‘Lumps of wood?’ I didn’t reply. ‘Sorry, sorry, not the point. Fill me in another time. Darling, what is your intuition telling you?’
My mother sets a lot of store by things like ‘intuition’ and ‘gut feeling’, and for her it’s easy. She’s so sure of herself that when she thinks a thing, she believes it and then acts on it. She’s not always right, of course, but that doesn’t stop her sallying forth merrily, confident that her feelings must be true. I mistrust mine. I thought Timothy loved me, remember? After that embarrassing debacle how could I ever be brave enough to think such a thing again? And if Timothy didn’t love me, after all those years together, how could Lando possibly love me now – a washed-up primary school teacher, her best years, whatever they were, firmly behind her? But another little voice suddenly piped up in my head, a new one, a very welcome one. It reminded me of how good I had felt when I had turned Timothy down, how strongly I had realised that I was in control of my life and confident to take risks. I had earned the right to listen and to trust in this new voice, not to run scared from it.
‘Penny, are you still there?’
‘Yes, I’m still here. I was thinking about what you said, about my intuition…’
‘And?’
I paused. This was new territory for me.
‘I think there’s a chance with Lando, a good one. I think it’s what I want. At least I want to find out. If it doesn’t work out, it’s not the end of the world. I’ve got this.’
It was momentous to say the words out loud. Mum obviously felt the same, as I heard a most uncharacteristic sob come down the phone, wrapping me in love across the miles.
‘Penny, my darling, darling girl. There it is! Thereyouare! My girl. You havealwayshad it,always, you just had to know it for yourself. Your destiny isyours, no one else’s. Now, I would say ‘go get him’, but it doesn’t seem quite right. No – go and be you, that’s all you have to do. Be Penny, she’s amazing.’
By now we were both sobbing, and I wished we could hug each other, but knowing I had her unconditional love and support, with nothing to prove, was worth everything. We spoke for a few moments more, then said goodbye with promises to speak again soon. I switched off my phone, straightened my back and gave a nod. It was time to go and start shaping my future.
TWENTY-TWO
I looked out of my window and, sure enough, the light was burning in Lando’s studio. A thought flashed across my mind: what if he was there with Zara? But as quickly as it came, another, stronger voice countered it: so what if he is? If they’re locked in a passionate embrace and booking airline tickets for Greece, then at least you’llknow, and you can ricochet off that particular situation and on to another future. This is exciting stuff! I felt a great sense of urgency, almost panic, and rushed to find some clothes. At first, I stood paralysed in front of the wardrobe, not knowing what the hell to wear. What said, ‘Marry me!’ but ever so casually, with a thrown in, ‘And if you don’t, that’s cool’? My clothes were definitely letting me down as most of them said nothing more than ‘meh’. But I was in no mood to be defeated. Inspiration sparked and I swept through the hangers until I found a shirt I had thrown in last minute, not expecting to wear it. It was something I had bought in a sale and never quite dared to wear out anywhere, but I loved it and somehow knew that one day it would be perfect. The epitome of ‘smart-casual’, it was made of a flowy, ludicrously flattering fabric, black but shot through with sparkly rose gold thread. I wriggled it over my head and flicked open the top two buttons. There. It was sexy without being desperate and, appropriately, looked as if I had just thrown it on. I pulled on my good jeans and grabbed the nearest pair of clean socks and my trainers, then was out of the door and jogging downstairs before I could change my mind.
I thought that the party was completely over by now, and the household tucked up in bed, but as I passed the living room, still in low light, I saw Zara and Xander in a very passionate clinch on the sofa. My heart lifted and did a merry Christmas jig at the sight of them. Not, I am afraid to say, because I was happy to see they had found each other, but because it meant that Zara was clearly out of the picture as far as Lando was concerned. I zipped past the kitchen, which was in darkness and towards the back door, which I flung open with fervour, then recoiled. God, it was cold. Would my flimsy shirt take me as far as the studio? It would have to. I was in no mood to put on a sensible coat. I ran across the lawn, already crisping up with frost, and arrived at the door in record time. Once there, I paused, only briefly, to take a couple of steadying breaths, feeling that the ‘collapsing in a gasping heap’ look wasn’t exactly what I was going for on this occasion, then pushed the door open.
The scene was perfect. The warm, woody studio was as messy and cosy and welcoming as ever and there was Lando, hunched over his bench, Garbo draped on his shoulders, whittling away intensely. I drank it in. Briefly.
‘What thehellis that cold draft? Shut the door, can’t you?’
‘Oh God, sorry.’
I shut the door quickly as Lando turned around.
‘Penny! I didn’t realise it was you.’ He stumbled to his feet, clutching Garbo so she didn’t slip off. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout.’
I smiled.
‘It’s okay, I’m kind of getting used to it.’
‘Hmm, I’m not sure that’s such a good thing. That the grumpiness is something to get used to, I mean, not that you would be getting used to me…Aargh, I’m rambling. Look, would you like a drink?’
‘Actually, what I’d really like is a cup of tea, if that’s all right. I’ve had enough champagne for one night.’ I stopped to think. ‘Now that’s something I never thought I’d hear myself say.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on. A cuppa is exactly what I need too.’
‘Can I see what you’re making?’
‘No! Er, that is, no, it’s not ready, sorry. Another time.’
He pulled a cloth over whatever it was he had been working on and disappeared through the door at the back, returning a few minutes later with two steaming mugs.
‘Here you go. Do sit down, you know the routine, chuck something on the floor.’
I cleared a small wicker chair of its pile of books and tools, handing him a wicked-looking chisel rather than leaving it on the floor where it might hurt one of the dogs. I eased off my shoes and tucked my feet up.
‘Ah, my favourite socks,’ said Lando, grinning.
