‘I’d like that,’ he said, and he smiled down at me, his eyes kind.
‘And now you are off on another adventure tomorrow,’ I said.
‘Yes, Dubrovnik then home,’ he said.
I wondered how I would feel if I had to do another trip after all this time, and funnily enough the idea didn’t appeal much.
‘I’m looking forward to going home. I want to meet this young woman my son has taken up with and find out if Mrs Fluffy has left any mice under the bed.’
‘Let’s hope not.’
We sat quietly for a few minutes, watching a small fishing boat come into the harbour and nose its way past us. I wondered if they had enjoyed a successful catch, what life was like for the people who lived there. Was it always peaceful? Did it always feel so safe or was I being naïve?
My home felt a long way away at that moment. And yet I could imagine it; the rain dripping from the trees onto the path by the back door, the flower beds probably riddled with weeds at my neglect. I could imagine Ben and Jenna wandering about in the kitchen, the kittens playing by the wood burner, Mrs Fluffy going out of the cat flap. I could imagine the sitting room, like the rest of the house, comfortable but rather colourless because I couldn’t decide how to decorate it. It all seemed very rural and safe. And yet if I hadn’t left it to come on this trip, none of this would have happened.
‘I have your address,’ I said, ‘and you have mine; you would always be welcome.’
‘I’m a bit out of the loop. I was married for so long, it’s been years since I had to think about this sort of thing.’
‘What sort of thing?’ I said, knowing exactly what he meant.
‘This,’ he said, ‘starting again. Trusting and finding out about someone new.’
‘It’s difficult for me too, you know,’ I said. ‘The last time I was properly out on the dating scene people were still talking about who shot JR in Dallas.’
He laughed.
Where was this going, I wondered. What were we saying to each other in this carefully coded exchange?
‘We could try together,’ he said, ‘if you wanted to.’
‘I rather think I would,’ I said, ‘and do you think you will go to Ashby de la Zouch?’
He grinned. ‘I hadn’t planned to. Although I’m sure it’s a lovely place.’
I needed to say something. To show him that complicated or not, it was possible to make new relationships at any age, to have the courage to reach out to someone and trust that person. And if it all went wrong to have the strength to deal with that too.
‘What about Worcester? Or a little village called Madresfield? Or more precisely Willow Cottage? It’s just past the village hall.’
‘Now that sounds far more interesting,’ he said, and he kissed my cheek.
Across the room I saw Anna and Harriet, heads together, giggling in a way that was very reminiscent of when I had known them all those decades ago, and I realised that although relationships may bend and change with the years, laughter was limitless, memories were countless and true friendships never ended.
30
ONE YEAR LATER
I’m in my dining room. I’m laying the table for one of my special Sunday lunches. I do them far more these days because once again, people want to have them and I want to cook them too. Nine people around a table built for eight is going to be a bit of a squeeze but I am sure we will manage.
Today it’s the first anniversary of our Interrail trip, the journey that turned out to be so much more than I had ever thought it would be. Harriet, Anna and Rupert are arriving soon, Marjorie and Evelyn are already in the sitting room having a sherry before dinner, I am in the kitchen swathed in a flour-splattered apron, and it’s almost time to put the Yorkshire puddings into the oven.
Ben and Jenna are upstairs packing to go back to the barn conversion later because they have been staying all weekend. It’s taken some organising to get them here because Jenna was supposed to be on call at the vet’s practice, but she managed to swap with someone. She is exactly what Ben needed. A young woman who is organised, practical and a lot of fun. I don’t think a person who is so kind to animals could be anything else. So in a way my trip was good for him too.
I look out of the kitchen window hoping to see Anna’s car, but no sign of them yet. Still, it’s a beautiful autumn day; the leaves in my oak tree are just starting to change colour as the days shorten.
I like this season; it’s as though the countryside is settling down for a long winter sleep, ready for the renewal of another year. But before that of course comes Christmas.
I always used to love Christmas and somehow over the years it lost its sparkle, but now my enthusiasm for tinsel, scented candles, coloured ribbons and the biggest tree I can fit into my sitting room has returned because now things are different. I am different.
