‘We’ve missed Flynn.’ Mum’s eyes sparkled with tears. ‘It was incredibly hard losing all three of you like that.’
The lump in my throat was back and I nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I needed to get away and I wasn’t thinking about the impact on everyone else. If I could go back, I’d do it all differently.’
‘Does that mean you’d be okay now if we were to see more of Flynn?’ she asked.
‘I never said you couldn’t. I just don’t want to hear about it. Sorry if that sounds harsh.’
‘You must have missed him too,’ Mum said.
I had, but I wasn’t going to admit that. I knew how Mum’s mind worked. She’d have us walking up the aisle again if I did and that was never going to happen. The most Flynn and I could ever hope for was a lack of discomfort if we found ourselves in the same place at the same time. So I ignored the statement and suggested another round of drinks.
I could have shared a lot more – things I hadn’t even told Georgia yet – but it would have been too much for them. I didn’t want them worrying about me. All they needed to know was that things were still tough but that I was coping.
Overall, it felt like a successful visit. I suspected they’d held back on their hurt, but I’d held back on mine too. We agreed we’d all work harder at staying in touch and that a great starting point would be a regular Tuesday lunch – a chance to spend some time with them on my own when we could properly talk.
I said goodbye around mid-afternoon and got into the car. I’d intended to go back to the hall to work but, as I reached the bottom of the drive, it suddenly popped into my head that I should have bought a ream of printer paper when I’d been to town this morning but had been so distracted by the wonderful choices at the deli that I’d completely forgotten. I might as well go back into town and get the paper now.
As I drove into Keswick, I felt a lot lighter. There’d been some uncomfortable moments with Mum and Dad but they’d been necessary to find a way forward, which hopefully we had done. I was fortunate to have such understanding parents.
I picked up a ream of paper and was returning to the car when a jumper in a boutique window caught my eye. It was just a plain crew-neck but the material looked so soft and the colour – duck-egg blue – was gorgeous. I looked down at my chocolate-brown wool jumper under which I was wearing a plain black T-shirt before returning my gaze to the mannequin. In my short time in Willowdale so far, I felt as though some colour was returning to my world. Perhaps it was time for it to return to my wardrobe. I nipped into the boutique and made the purchase. Newcastle hadn’t been my fresh start after all, but it felt like Willowdale was.
26
The rest of that week and the next two flew past. Oliver and Rosie loved the plans I drew up for the conversion of Willowdale Hall. The ground floor of the west wing would be their private living quarters and most of the rest of the hall would be divided into luxury self-catering holiday apartments sleeping from two to six guests. I’d initiated a conversation about keeping the former ballroom and another of the larger spaces as function rooms for events. I knew an events manager at a similar-sized venue to Willowdale Hall which I’d worked on previously and she’d emailed me some income projections. Oliver and Rosie agreed it was a no brainer for bringing in an additional income stream while retaining the beauty of those larger rooms which were really too grand to use as apartments.
I’d settled into a routine which wasn’t all about work. It was such a novelty having a social life again and a better work/life balance. Family-wise, I had lunch with my parents every Tuesday, the wider family Sunday lunches and I usually met up with Georgia on my own one lunchtime or evening. I was really enjoying being back around my family again and, every time we got together, I felt less like an outsider. There were still references to things I’d missed but at least I knew what was going on with everyone right now. I’d definitely made good progress in healing the rift with my parents and felt like I was more present in Georgia’s life. My sister had put in all the effort before and now it felt more equal – something which she’d noticed and had remarked on herself.
My old morning routine had been to make a coffee then crack on with work no matter how early I’d risen. Now I joined Emma at Casa Alpaca a couple of mornings a week to chat while I helped her clean up and prepare for the day ahead and sometimes I took a coffee break with her and Killian, who was also really lovely. I helped Rosie muck out the horses another couple of mornings, and walked the dogs with Alice on the other days. I joined Alice, Rosie and Emma at Horseshoe Cottage for lunch on a Wednesday and, on Thursday evenings, I walked down to the quiz with Rosie and spent an hour with her, Autumn and Dane before breaking off into our separate teams. I loved how Oliver and Rosie’s family had accepted me as though I was one of them, and really appreciated how welcoming their friends had been too. They’d all said how much they enjoyed my company and it made me realise how much I’d missed human interaction.
I didn’t see as much of Oliver as the others with him travelling to Penrith most days for work and staying over at his house there for a couple of nights. Although Rosie never complained, I sensed that she’d rather he was home more often. I’d walked the dogs with Alice one morning and she’d mentioned Oliver’s commute so I’d taken the opportunity to ask whether he’d considered leaving the surgery to work full-time at the estate.
‘No. He loves his job too much,’ Alice had told me. ‘While he’s 100 per cent behind it and keen to be involved, the hall conversion was always Rosie’s passion. But hewouldrather work closer to home. He’s put out feelers but, unfortunately, there aren’t any openings locally.’
Alice reckoned that Oliver and Rosie would manage the best they could for now but things would come to a head when they were much further into the project and it either became too much for Rosie to handle alongside running the stables or she found out she was pregnant. Alice swiftly changed the subject and I wondered if she’d shared something with me that she wasn’t meant to. Rosie hadn’t mentioned anything about trying for a baby, although there was no reason for her to share something so personal when we’d only met a couple of months ago.
Of everyone new that I’d met, I felt closest to Emma. We’d talked about going out for a drink one Friday or Saturday night but it hadn’t happened yet and I hadn’t pushed her for a date. Establishing a new business took time and, on top of that, she was in a fairly new relationship and needed time to see her large family who lived in and around Ambleside and her best friend near Carlisle. I was confident we’d put a date in the diary eventually as Emma didn’t strike me as someone who made false promises.
Last Saturday, I’d booked Georgia and me onto an official alpaca walk. Even though I’d spent a fair bit of time around the Magnificent Seven, I asked Emma to give us the full customer experience as though I’d never met the herd and knew nothing about alpacas. Her knowledge was exemplary and the passion she had for the animals oozed from her and made me feel really proud of my new friend.
Mum loved animals and Georgia and I thought she might like to meet the herd. The route wasn’t wheelchair or scooter friendly but Emma offered meet and greet experiences where customers could pet and feed the alpacas at Casa Alpaca. Georgia had a day off today so we’d booked Mum and Dad and ourselves onto one of those. Dad was able to drive his car right up to the gate so Mum only had a short distance to walk to the benches.
‘You’ll have a chance to feed and stroke all of the Magnificent Seven,’ Emma told us after she’d run through the safety briefing, ‘but we’ll do it in two sittings. First up are Barbara, Camella, Jolene and Maud.’
For me, the most special part of the meet and greet was watching Mum’s face. She was a little tentative at first but it didn’t take her long to settle into it and stroke the alpacas with confidence. I took several photos and some video footage to share with them later. Dad was in his element too and every smile and burst of laughter filled me with happiness.
We all went to The White Willow afterwards for lunch and, for the first time since Noah died, I wasn’t aware of any distance between my parents and me as they equally involved Georgia and me in the conversation.
‘You know Gayle Atherton?’ Mum said to me after we’d finished eating.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘You must do. She’s the one who went to Machu Picchu for her sixtieth birthday. Her cousin’s that skinny man from that crime drama we used to like but got bored with in the third series.’
Mum was prone to conversations like this, convinced I knew people in the village who I might have once said hello to when I was nine. I had no clue who Gayle Atherton was – or the crime series, for that matter – but it was easier to go along with it.
‘What about her?’ I asked.
‘Her granddaughter’s off to university this year to study counselling and it got me thinking about what you’d said a few weeks ago about struggling with things. You’re welcome to talk to your dad and me about anything you want, but I was wondering whether speaking to a professional might help. Unless you’ve already tried that.’
