Page 60 of Just for the Season

‘If everyone we know comes that will be too many people,’ pipes up Sam.

‘Never too many,’ Simon says airily.

‘Exactly,’ I confirm. ‘We can just spread out into your flat. Perfect interior design advertising.’

‘That was fantastic,’ Marcus says. ‘Worth far more than ten pounds a head. Also.’ He and I were on the same Scrabble table and I know what’s coming. ‘El is not a real word.’

The el enabled me to get a seven-letter word down, with the ‘e’ above an ‘l’.

‘Are you joking?’ I say, mock angry. ‘It’s a very well-known ancient measure of cloth.’

Marcus shakes his head. ‘There’s only one thing for it. We need a rematch.’

‘Happy to beat you again any time.’

‘Friday?’ he says.

‘You’re on.’

I’m going to London overnight on Saturday for a party, staying with friends, and it will be nice to see Marcus properly before I go.

* * *

I go to Marcus’s on Friday evening, because Ruby and Sam are both home, and he doesn’t like leaving Ruby babysitting Sam too often, not wanting her ever to feel resentful of her younger brother.

The four of us eat takeaway pizza together. We chat. We play Scrabble. (Marcus and I are so intent on playing words that we think will hinder the other that Ruby storms past us and wins.) We chat. We drink mint tea. (It’s the first time Sam’s tried it and he admits to liking it.) We chat more. It’s an extremely good evening. Pleasant. Lovely. Agreeable. Delightful. All the synonyms for very, very nice.

Ruby stays and continues to chat to us after Sam’s gone to bed, and it’s still very lovely.

Then I notice that it’s eleven and say I should go. I’m in the café from eight thirty until lunchtime tomorrow, before I leave for my night in London. Ruby’s starting at ten so that Simon and I can run through things together with her while there are two of us there, and then she’s going to help Simon in the afternoon.

As I leave, I say to Marcus, ‘Thank you for calling your friends to come to the potluck supper.’

‘They loved it. I’ve got lots of people spreading the word.’

‘That’s very kind.’

‘Not kind. It takes no time at all to mention to people and that’s what friends are for.’

I leave with a feeling of warm fuzziness.

* * *

Ruby proves to be a quick learner in the morning, which is fortunate, because the café’s quite busy today – people seem to be taking advantage of what might be one of the last sunny and reasonably warm Saturdays before winter begins to set in – and Simon would have been run off his feet this afternoon all by himself.

I drive to the railway station in Chartfield and leave my car in the long stay car park, before catching the fast train to London.

As the Dorset countryside disappears behind me, the views out of the windows become more inland kind of scenery and then increasingly urban as we head into London.

It feels weird coming back here, almost as though I’m leaving a safe haven and returning to the fray. It is not the fray, I remind myself as I get out of the train at Waterloo Station. It’s a city where I’ve spent a lot of happy years and that I know very well, and I’m going to stay with very close friends who I’ve known since uni, and we’re all going to a party together tonight, with lots of other close friends. It’s going to be a lot of fun. I’m actually wondering whether I’ll be reminded that this is my home, and I ought to make more of an effort to return sooner rather than later.

It’s actually lovely to see everyone – I’m staying with my uni friend Anna and her husband Amir – and as soon as I’m with them I feel in some ways as though I’ve never been away.

The buzz of the city is great too. I do love London. And I also love Milbury. I’m not actually sure which I love more.

Anna and I eat cake and hot chocolate in one of our favourite cafés, as well as shopping together (there is no comparison between London King’s Road and Chartfield’s shops – the King’s Road wins every time, however busy it might be), before going back to Anna and Amir’s to get changed and head out to the party (a fortieth).

It’s in the upstairs of a big pub in Earl’s Court. This is the first time since Rick and I split up that I’ve been to a big, lively party, with lots of people I know but also lots of strangers. And that’s the first time I’ve really thought about Rick for ages, and the memory of him now evokes zero emotion whatsoever other than a little bit of I should have said goodbye after our very first date.