‘So, what about as an adult? Didn’t you learn to cook?’
Simon thought back to the last ten years. He ate in restaurants and ordered a lot of delivery. He thought about all money he had spent on not making his own food and he wished he had even a quarter of that money now. Anika used to order sushi for every lunch and then again for dinner. It was always her first choice.
‘I remember cooking with my grandmother – scones and maybe icing a cake – but she died when I was nine and my mother wasn’t a cook. So as an adult, I ate out a lot,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to at least cut up some tomatoes or something? I’m not completely useless, I promise.’
Soon they had the salad made and Amanda prepared the fish.
‘Thank God Frank gave me all of the salad things, because I am going to need to get a job soon or I will be living in their veggie patch.’
‘That bad huh?’ asked Simon.
Amanda laughed. ‘Yep. I’m a poor starving artist from New York who lucked out with this house, but it costs money to live here and I have student loans that probably cost the same amount as a new roof for this place, and if I don’t pay them they draw interest and then it would cost more than this whole place is worth. I got some severance pay from my old work in New York but I don’t want to spend it on that.’
‘Are you going to sell it?’ Simon was shocked.
‘No,’ Amanda cried. ‘I’m just saying I have to get a job. I have to do the garden and it’s a lot, but I guess it will work out. It usually does, doesn’t it?’
Simon thought about her statement. ‘Does it? Do you really think so? Even with your mum dying?’
‘I can feel down, for sure, and if you had said to me a month ago that I would feel happy more often than I do sad, I wouldn’t have believed you. But I’m feeling more hopeful now. I just need to get a job soon.’
She put a frypan on the stove and added some butter.
‘Arnold, the guy I used to get coffee from back in New York, used to say that life could turn on a dime, and I think that’s true. One day you’re poor; one day you’re rich. One day you’re being evicted; the next day you’re the new owner of an English country home.’ She shrugged. ‘You can’t assume anything is finished and done. There’s always a chance things will turn around.’
Simon walked to the French doors and looked out at the back gardens.
Was there a second act to his and Anika’s story? Was there a resolution for him and Charlie?
He didn’t know the answer to those questions but, for the first time, he wondered if perhaps he should return to London to find out.
But what was there for him? Anika didn’t want him and Charlie was a lying prick. His mother was exhausting and demanding and the thought of sitting in front of a screen day after day gave him a headache.
‘You okay?’ he heard Amanda ask and he turned.
‘I’m fine, just musing over my life and where to go next,’ he said with a sigh.
‘Where do you think you will go? Where would you like to go?’ she asked.
Simon thought for a moment. ‘I don’t know to be honest. It feels like wherever I go this feeling will come with me.’
Amanda nodded. ‘Then stay here for as long as you need. Even after the summer is over. I’m sure there are other gardens and work that people might need a hand with around the area. The answer for your next journey will come when you’re ready or have a decision to make. You don’t know yet because you’re not ready to leave, and that’s my and Diana’s win.’ She flashed him a smile and went back to cooking.
Simon pondered her words. She was right. The answer would come when he had a decision to make and the only decision he had to make right now was what to plant for the autumn.
*
Diana – 1960s
Diana pulled her coat tighter around herself as she and her mother crossed Bond Street.
The Christmas lights sparkled as shoppers rushed about like festive little ants in their coats and boots. There was a little snow, which looked lovely from afar but was already turning to slush from the cars and many feet that passed over it.
‘Come along, Diana, I want to get you a diary from Smythson, so you can fill it with fun events for next year. When we go to Europe, you can make sightseeing itineraries and put the keepsakes in the pages. The snakeskin ones are too gaudy but the crocodile covers are lovely. But do get the silver lettering for the cover; the gold is far too gauche.’
Diana wasn’t listening; instead she slowed as they passed a small shop with children’s clothes in the window. A tiny romper in pink gingham with a matching pink bonnet was on display.
Diana’s mother kept walking and then turned and walked back to Diana who hadn’t moved from the window.
