1
I picked up the empty tube of toothpaste and groaned. I’d already scraped my toothbrush along it several times to push out every last vestige of paste and it was time to admit defeat. Except I didn’t have any spares – very unlike me to be so disorganised, although, with such a grim start to the New Year, it was hardly surprising something had slipped.
I’d spent Christmas and New Year in St Lucia and remembered a packet of miniature toiletries I’d been given on the flight home. I crouched down and rummaged in the various storage containers in the under-sink cupboard in the hope that I’d tossed it in there in case of emergencies.
‘Yes!’ I muttered, spotting the package. As I reached for it, I knocked over a can of body spray and my heart sank as I spotted it was one of Graeme’s. He evidently hadn’t checked the cupboard in his haste to clear out his stuff last night. I’d told him there was no rush – that he could come back another time or I could drop it off for him – but he’d seen no point in prolonging things. I could relate to that. When I’d made the decision to leave my husband, Flynn, I’d felt that way too – had just wanted to pack up and leave.
Had Graeme left anything else? I couldn’t see any more of his belongings in the cupboard but, body spray in my hand, I wandered across the hall into my bedroom and checked the drawer he used when he stayed over. A feeling of weariness overcame me as I closed the empty drawer. Slumping down on my bed, not caring that the towel swathed round me was wet, I sprayed the can and breathed in the scent of bergamot and sandalwood. I liked it but I didn’t love it, which struck a chord with me because I’d liked but hadn’t loved Graeme. It was right that it was over, but that didn’t stop me feeling sad about it. I was going to miss his company.
I shivered and goose bumps broke out over my entire body. We were a third of the way into January and the central heating in my rented flat was on its last legs. Sitting still in a chilly room wrapped in a soggy towel with wet hair dripping down my back wasn’t ideal, but I couldn’t seem to muster the energy to haul myself up and get ready, especially when I had mixed feelings about how I’d be spending the day, or ratherwhereI’d be spending it.
I was returning to Willowdale – the small village beside Derwent Water in the stunning Lake District National Park where I’d been raised and where my parents, Bruce and June, still lived – to celebrate my mum’s eightieth birthday. I loved that part of the world so much but I rarely went back. It held so many painful memories that I had to psych myself up ahead of each visit and invariably returned to Newcastle feeling emotionally drained. Having Graeme accompanying me the last few times had helped deflect the standard question –When are you coming home?– but without him by my side today, I’d not only be asked that but there’d be a host of other questions about why we’d split up, none of which I wanted to answer. Too complicated.
I winced, realising I probably should have let my sister Georgia know that there’d be one less for the meal. I glanced at my phone charging by the bed and shook my head. I’d message her from the car instead, right before I set off – best way to avoid an interrogation.
Shivering again, I wished I could crawl under the duvet and give today a miss, but it wasn’t an option. I had to go. My family had been supportive of my move to Newcastle-Upon-Tyne after I’d left Flynn. I think they understood why I needed to get away, but I was fairly sure they didn’t understand why I’d stayed away. Sometimes I wasn’t sure of that myself.
I looked round the bedroom and sighed heavily. It was the first flat I’d viewed that summer. Built in the 1980s, boxy and soulless, I’d only planned to stay for six months while I worked out what my life would look like without my family around me. Six and a half years later, I still hadn’t moved flat and I hadn’t moved on either.
My mobile ringing made me jump. Spotting Georgia’s name on the screen, I hesitated. I knew why she was calling. She did it every time there was a family get-together. But if I spoke to her now, I’d have to tell her about Graeme. Better to ignore it. The ringing eventually stopped but started up again moments later. Georgia always did that and, if I didn’t answer, she’d keep calling until I did. Rolling my eyes, I accepted her FaceTime request.
‘You took your time,’ she said, raising her eyebrows at me. ‘I was beginning to think you were screening your calls and avoiding me.’
I pointed to my wet hair. ‘I’ve just got out the shower. Didn’t think you’d want me answering in the nip.’
‘Too right!’ She pulled a mock-disgusted face. ‘Does this mean you’re still coming?’
‘Of course! You don’t have to keep checking, you know.’
‘Don’t I? Because you’ve never dipped out before, have you, Mel?’ she said, her tone teasing.
‘Yeah, but I’ve always let you know. I’ve never just not shown up and there’s no way I’d miss Mum’s eightieth.’
‘Good. I know Mum and Dad never visit you, but it doesn’t mean they don’t miss you.’
‘I miss them too. It’s just…’
Georgia nodded slowly. ‘I get it. But it’s been seven years, Mel. I know you can’t put a timescale on grief, but you’llnevercome to terms with it if you keep hiding away.’
My shoulders sagged as another wave of weariness overcame me. ‘I’m not hiding.’
She raised her eyebrows at me once more.
‘Okay, maybe I was at first but this is my home now and I like it here.’
‘Youlikeit? Such a glowing endorsement. You should work for the tourist board. Come and visit Newcastle. You’lllikeit here.’
‘You’re hilarious.’
‘I am, and I’m also honest. YoulikeNewcastle but you don’tloveit. Youlovethe Lakes.’
I opened my mouth to protest but I’d never been able to lie to Georgia. Newcastle-Upon-Tyne was a fantastic, vibrant city with loads to do and the people were so warm and friendly, but there was no getting away from the fact that it wasn’t the Lake District. With each passing year, the yearning to return grew stronger but I wasn’t sure I could do it.
‘Were you just making sure I won’t be a no-show or was there something else?’ I asked, shivering once more as another droplet of water trickled down my back.
‘So suspicious! There’s no ulterior motive. A couple of Mum’s friends have had to dip out due to illness and the Lakeside Inn want the final numbers so I thought I’d double-check that you and Graeme are still coming before I call them.’
‘I’ll be there, but Graeme won’t be,’ I said, trying to sound casual.
