Shuddering, I focused back on the radio, trying to push all thoughts of Flynn from my mind. At least Ricky wouldn’t play the weather-related song Flynn had sung to me – not uplifting enough for Themed Thirty.
‘Final Themed Thirty tune coming up,’ Ricky announced a little later. ‘I hesitated about including this one as it’s a bit slower than usual but it’s such an anthem, I’m sure you’ll forgive me. Over to you, Mr Withers.’
My stomach lurched once more. He’d only gone and chosen the one song I couldn’t listen to anymore because it wasn’t Bill Withers I heard singing ‘Ain’t No Sunshine’ – it was Flynn, looking directly at me, serenading me with a velvety smooth singing voice that I’d no idea he possessed.
I jabbed at the radio, changing station, my heart racing. Maybe I should start listening to podcasts in the car instead. Less chance of being floored like this.
2
Lakeside Inn – the venue for Mum’s birthday celebrations – was a hotel and restaurant in Willowdale, just a two-minute walk from my parents’ beloved home, Derwent Rise.
It was Mum’s actual birthday today – a Saturday – and, not being a fan of late nights, she’d decided on a lunchtime hot buffet, asking guests to arrive by noon with an anticipated 5p.m. finish. There were only a few spaces left in the car park when I pulled in at quarter to twelve. A cold blast of air made me gasp the moment I opened the car door. Shivering, I yanked it shut, wrapped my scarf round my neck and put my coat on.
As I crossed the car park, I could see into the large conservatory where we’d be eating. There were flowers on the tables and balloon bouquets dispersed around the room and I wondered whether I should have volunteered to arrive earlier to help set everything up, but Georgia hadn’t asked me to. I grimaced as it struck me that Georgia’s suggestion before Christmas that I stay at hers last night as well as tonightto give plenty of time to get organisedhad been her subtle way of asking for help. I was fifty-two years old. How had she not realised in over half a century shared on this planet that subtlety was completely lost on me? Hopefully she’d had some willing volunteers and hadn’t needed to do everything by herself.
Laughter and loud chatter hit me before I even opened the side door and nervous butterflies swooped in my stomach as I stepped into the foyer.Please let it go well.Georgia had told me that the guest list was a mix of relatives and friends. The former nearly all lived in Cumbria and the latter mainly in Willowdale, Pippinthwaite – the next village over where Georgia and Mark lived – or in the nearby market town of Keswick.
There were several hooks on the wall so I hung up my coat and scarf as I peered through the glass doors into the bar, looking for my immediate family. Mark was talking to my Auntie Sue – Mum’s younger sister – and I soon spotted Mark and Georgia’s kids, Keira and Regan. I say kids, but Keira was twenty-six, married and expecting her second baby in the spring and Regan was twenty-four and living with his long-term boyfriend Clarke. Every time I saw my niece and nephew, I experienced a moment of surprise that they were grown adults and not the little children I remembered chasing each other round the garden or splashing in the lake.
They all looked deep in conversation and I didn’t like to interrupt so I hovered by the coats, wringing my hands, trying to muster the businesswoman in me. She wasn’t fazed by walking into a room full of people and striking up conversations with strangers, so entering a room consisting mostly of family and former neighbours should be a breeze. But it wasn’t.
A couple I didn’t recognise arrived, smiled politely, and removed their coats. They made a show of trying to get round me to hang them up – my cue that I couldn’t loiter in the foyer forever. I apologised for being in their way, took a deep breath and pasted a smile on my face, steeling myself against the inevitable barrage of comments about my absence over the years.
Opening the door, I was immediately hit by a combination of heat emanating from a real fire mingled with the warmth of lots of bodies in a relatively small space. I eased my way through the bar, smiling and nodding but inwardly cringing as the predicted remarks came thick and fast. Several greetings ofHello, stranger!vied for popularity alongsideLong time, no see!I caught whispers ofI was beginning to think she wasn’t comingand one of the villagers even said it to my face, accompanied by, ‘Your mum’s going to be so happy to see you at last,’ the final two words spoken with great emphasis after a pause. Made me wonder what Mum had been saying to her friends about me.
Even though the comments were delivered light-heartedly (the whispers perhaps not so much), I couldn’t help feeling judged.
‘Auntie Mel!’ Keira cried, approaching me with her arms out for a hug and rescuing me from a conversation with another villager about how long it had been since my last visit.
‘Great to see you,’ I said, hugging her. I stepped back and took in her baby bump. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Really good. Did Mum tell you what we’re having?’
‘No, she wanted it to be your news.’ Keira and Johnnie already had a two-year-old girl called Astrid. They hadn’t wanted to find out the gender when they were expecting her and had intended on remaining in blissful ignorance with baby number two but curiosity had got the better of them.
Keira removed a scan photo from her handbag and passed it to me. ‘Meet Astrid’s little brother, Arlo.’
It would be customary to say something at that point – give my congratulations, tell her Arlo was a great name, comment on how cute it was that both siblings had names beginning with the same letter, say how lovely it was that they’d have a boy and a girl – but I had nothing. I stared at the baby photo, instantly transported back in time to when I’d held a scan photo of my own, almost an identical match to this one.
All the way through Keira’s first pregnancy, I’d been convinced she was expecting a boy and had tried so hard to prepare myself for it. I’d almost cried with relief when Georgia rang me with the news that the proud parents had welcomed a baby girl into the world. But now theywerehaving a boy and I needed to get my act together. Quickly.
‘Are you all right?’ Keira asked, looking at me with concern.
‘Hot flush,’ I said, pulling at the neckline of my dress with one hand as I handed back the photo. ‘The joys of being a woman of a certain age. Congratulations. I’m so pleased for you all and I can’t wait to meet baby Arlo.’
I wafted my neckline again and tucked my hair behind my ears. ‘Sorry, Keira, I’m going to have to nip to the ladies’ to cool off. I’ll speak to you later.’
Without waiting for a response, I made a beeline for the toilets, relieved to find them deserted. I placed my hands either side of one of the sinks and braced my arms as I took several calming breaths. Raising my head to look in the mirror, I sighed. Hot flush? One glance at my paler-than-a-snowman’s cheeks and there was no way Keira would have bought that. Hopefully she’d get distracted and forget about my reaction.
The door opened and Auntie Sue entered, permeating the room with her signature lily-of-the-valley fragrance. She smiled as soon as she saw me and drew me into a hug, kissing me on both cheeks.
‘Lovely to see you, Mel. How are you doing?’
‘Fine, thanks. You?’
‘Wonderful. I swear that op has given me a new lease of life.’
I had no idea Auntie Sue had needed an operation. She’d likely assumed one of the family had told me, but they hadn’t and, to be fair to them, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d asked after my auntie. With no kids of her own, she’d always been really close to Georgia and me and I should have made more effort to stay in touch. One more thing to feel guilty about.
