‘People do like living here. They say for a Middlebeck house to come on the market, you have to wait for someone to die.’
‘Then I’ll definitely start widening the search.’
Hattie smiled. ‘Something will turn up. Next topic: are you enjoying your new job?’
Now, this I could answer with an enthusiastic yes. Spending three days preparing then setting up the flowers for a wedding in a nearby village was similar to my apprenticeship days in all the best ways. The job also had the added bonus of working with lovely women who didn’t believe in getting stressed because if we secreted cortisol hormones into the atmosphere, it might negatively impact the flowers. We had so many tea breaks, I spent half the afternoon darting between the workshop in Karen’s garden and her bathroom.
‘Are they going to let you loose with your own designs at any point?’
‘They are!’ I beamed. ‘They loved my portfolio. I’m going to be given creative control for the next couple who book in.’
‘I’m so glad things are coming together.’ Hattie reached over and patted my knee. ‘I’m even more delighted that you chose to make Middlebeck your home.’
‘Now you’re the one with a but,’ I said, even though I already knew what it was.
‘Well. It would be easier if we didn’t have to meet in secret. I’ve had enough of those to last a lifetime.’ She squinted at me, turning her hand over to take hold of mine. ‘Would it be so awful if Gideon knew you were here?’
I sighed. ‘I’m not ready yet. But I’m working on it. I have my first non-art therapy session booked in for next week.’
Hattie smiled. ‘Sounds dreadfully dull.’
‘I know, right? Sitting in a chair talking. Not a stick of glue in sight. But seeing as the top art therapist in the area is taking some much-needed time off, this was the best I could do.’
‘Well, you know how enthusiastically I’m rooting for you. I’m sure it will help you complete this journey.’ She winked at me. ‘I just hope it doesn’t take too long. I hate seeing my son lonely and heartbroken. And I’d love to see a Riverbend wedding while I’m still well enough to enjoy it.’
Me not wanting to throw up or run back to the Peak District at that comment only proved how far I’d already come.
I’d be ready to contact Gideon soon. I hoped. Because not seeing him was even harder now I was back, and proving harder every single day.
* * *
July soon ambled into August. It was peak wedding season, so I worked almost every day, which helped the time pass slightly less agonisingly. I continued my fruitless search for a house. Everything within my price range either required DIY skills I didn’t possess, lacked a garden – something I wasn’t prepared to compromise on – or was miles away from Middlebeck. Kalani did start spending more time at Tye’s, which we both found helpful, but I’d begun to grow homesick for the peace and privacy of my motorhome, which I’d sold to provide funds for a house that didn’t seem to exist.
My new therapist was fabulous. She lulled me with a warm smile and chocolate brownies but refused to accept any nonsense, victim mentality or self-delusion. At her encouragement, one day, Ezra drove me to Birmingham. After sitting outside my childhood home for a while, I suddenly surprised us both by jumping out of the car and knocking on the front door. The woman who opened it, carrying one small child on her hip, another hanging off her ankle, listened to my brief explanation and promptly waved me inside and left me to wander about while she made us a coffee.
The house had been transformed thanks to light-oak floorboards instead of our carpets, white walls and lots of open shelving and modern furniture. My old room now contained a dinosaur bed and a huge, wooden castle. Lilly’s was stuffed with unicorns and sparkles. She’d have hated it.
The garden was almost exactly as my father had left it, except for a trampoline and two guinea pigs.
I walked along the path towards the flower beds and vegetable patch, then stopped in front of an Iceberg rose bush and sobbed my eyes out.
But by the time I’d stopped bawling, I was smiling through the tear streaks, on my cheeks. I knelt down and smelled the roses I’d planted with my father, in honour of my mother, and felt grateful for the years I’d spent here with my beautiful family. I also felt almost, so very nearly, ready to create a new family, and cram it with as much love and happiness as my old one.
In between all this, I squeezed in summer cocktails and picnics with the Gals, more secret visits to Hattie, and of course, hours of walks through the forests and fields with my dog.
So many walks that it was perhaps inevitable that, one day, I’d run into the one person I was trying to avoid.
My allergic-to-BS therapist would no doubt challenge me on whether this was my subconscious hope all along.
My new, enlightened self would have to admit that, yes, it probably was, because otherwise, I would stay ‘getting ready’ to prove my new-found ability to commit indefinitely.
36
I’d decided to risk a riverside walk, in the Riverbend direction, because I had the Monday off work following both Saturday and Sunday weddings, and I believed it was safe to assume that Gideon would be busy completing his latest landscaping project on the other side of the forest.
It had rained the past few days, and I was navigating a particularly squelchy section of the footpath, keeping one eye on Muffin, who’d been scurrying along, nose to the ground, following some enticing scent or other, when she suddenly stopped, ears pricked, sniffing the air, before shooting down a side path into the trees.
I hurried after her, calling her name a few times even though I knew that if she’d found something she considered remotely edible or a small animal to chase, then she’d be thoroughly deaf to my cries.
