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“No, but I think I might start, just in case.” Ellie frowned. “I wonder if she’s internalizing anxiety about the inn, actually… but maybe I’m just projecting, because I’m so anxious.” She managed a rather feeble smile.
“It will get better,” Sarah said, which was exactly the kind of bland platitude she hated and didn’t believe in for her own life, yet she actually meant it. Itwouldget better for Ellie. She had a loving husband, a great family, and she was determined to make the inn work. “Especially if we get cracking,” she added, rising from the table just as the doorbell rang. “Early guests?” she guessed, and Ellie shook her head.
“No, no one’s arriving before lunch. It’s probably your mother’s friend.”
“Oh, right.”
Curious, Sarah went to the door. The man standing on the step as she opened it was familiar to her, but only in a vague way. He had a full head of white hair, bright blue eyes, and a quick, easy smile.
“Sarah!” he exclaimed, and she was jolted by his tone of familiarity, which he must have noticed because his smile turned a little sheepish. “You don’t remember me, of course. I’m not surprised! It’s been a long time.” He stuck out a hand for her to shake, which she did, impressed with his sure, warm grip. “John McCardell. I went to university with your dad. We did some family holidays eons ago… I think the last one was when you were twelve or so? Izzy was seven, Michael nine. My kids are a bit younger than you and Matthew.”
“Oh, right.” She smiled and shook his hand. “I do remember you, sorry for the momentary lapse! It has been a long time.” She realized she did recall those holidays, in a hazy sort of way. She stepped aside to let him enter. “Please, do come in.”
“I’ve always loved this place,” John remarked as he came into the hall, glancing around in warm appreciation. “It’s such a beautiful home.”
For a second, Sarah felt as if she could see it through his eyes—the worn, stone-flagged floor with its runner carpet in a faded Turkish pattern, the vase of dried sunflowers on the hall table, with the vintage gold-framed mirror above. The map of Monmouthshire, dating from the 1700s, on the opposite wall; the umbrella stand with its vintage umbrellas, the Chinese vase with its pattern of blue and white swirls, and a deep crack right through its middle from when Matthew had accidentally knocked it over when he’d been playing football in the hall. Everything about it was so familiar, she didn’t really notice or even see it anymore, but as she looked around now, she could appreciate what a welcoming place it was, homely in the best possible way, and, like Ellie, she realized just how much she didn’t want the inn to close.
“Yes, it is, isn’t,” she replied, turning back to John. “Mum and Dad have done marvels with the place, and so has Ellie, my sister-in-law.” She glanced toward the kitchen doorway, where Ellie had come to stand, smiling uncertainly. “Ellie, this is John. John, Ellie.”
John stepped forward with alacrity. “Lovely to meet you.”
“And you,” Ellie replied, taking his hand to shake. “I’m not sure where Gwen is…”
“I’m here.” Gwen came in from the back, smiling at John in a way that seemed to Sarah both cautious and pleased. Again, she had that rather disorientating sensation of seeing something from someone else’s eyes—in this case, her mother in John’s eyes.
To her, her mum was simply her mum—familiar, loving, beloved. But now she saw a woman who, despite having only recently finished her cancer treatment, looked fit and trim and healthy for her sixty-nine years. Her hair was in a neat gray bob, and her deep blue eyes sparkled with humor. There was a faint flush to her cheeks, which Sarah suspected was from John’s presence, and made her mother look even younger and more vibrant. As she took all these details in, she realized she didn’t know how she felt about any of it.
“Gwen.” John took a step toward her mother, hands outstretched as if to clasp hers, his smile deepening into dimples, and then, seeming to sense the familiarity—and even intimacy—of the gesture, dropped them with a little wry twist of his mouth. “How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you.” Her mother tucked her hair behind her ears, glancing at both Ellie and Sarah, seeming a bit nervous. “Would you like a cup of tea or coffee before we head outside?”
John glanced briefly at Sarah and Ellie; Ellie seemed to be watching this little exchange with as much bemused interest as Sarah was. “No, why don’t we just get going? We can come inside in a bit, to warm up. There’s an autumnal nip in the air today!”
“All right.” Gwen’s smile turned shy. “I’ll show you the way.” She turned back to the door at the end of the hallway that ran the length of the house and led straight out into the back garden, and John followed her, giving Sarah and Ellie a jaunty salute before he disappeared out the door.
“Well.” The word escaped Sarah in a gust of breath. “That was… interesting.”
“He seems nice,” Ellie ventured, and Sarah nodded slowly.
“Yes… very nice.”
“Do you… do you think there might be more to it?” Ellie asked uncertainly as they headed back into the kitchen. “She only met him yesterday for coffee, and before that she hadn’t seen him in years.”
“I don’t know.” Sarah leaned against the kitchen counter, her forehead furrowed in thought. “Not at the moment, I suppose, but there definitely seemed to be some kind of spark there. Don’t you think?”
Ellie nodded, a playful smile kicking up the corner of her mouth. “Yes, I do. Not that I’d say as much to your mother, mind!”
“No, nor would I.” Sarah gave a rueful little grimace. It was strange even thinking about her being with someone.
“How would you feel about it,” Ellie asked cautiously, “if it became something more?”
Sarah considered the question honestly. “A bit strange,” she admitted. “I’m ashamed to say I’ve never even thought about my mum dating someone, never mind something more serious, and yet she was only forty-seven when Dad died. That seemed so old to me at the time, but it’s only one year older than I am now!” She let out a short laugh as she shook her head slowly. “I hope Mum didn’t not date because of Matthew and me. She never even talked about it with us.”
“I think she would have, if it had been a serious option,” Ellie offered. “Don’t you?”
“Maybe. And maybe it isn’t even a serious option now… we might be getting ahead of ourselves!”
From outside, they heard a sudden shout of male laughter, and they exchanged knowing, smiling glances.
