Paige nods, and I can tell she’s already sold on the idea. ‘Thanks again, Merri,’ she says warmly. ‘It’s a really big thing you’re doing for me and I’m grateful.’
‘I’m glad you’re happy. We’ve still got some packing to do, but we’ll be leaving all the big pieces of furniture. We’ll sort out arrangements for handing over the keys and you can come over. I’ll take you through all the things you need to know.’
She looks overwhelmed for a few moments, then gathers herself. ‘I owe you one for helping me out.’
‘You don’t owe me anything,’ I say gently. ‘I know you’d do the same for me. Would you like another coffee?’
‘No, no. I’m good, thanks. I should be getting off now.’ She stands up. ‘I need to get some college work done, but I want you to know I’m really grateful. It’s going to make a big difference to me.’ She lowers her eyes. ‘I do wish you all the best with your move, you know, Merri. I hope you’ll be very happy in your new place.’
We hug and arrange a phone call in a couple of days’ time.
When Paige leaves, the house feels smaller, as though the walls have somehow inched closer while we’ve been talking.
16
Nine Days Later – Saturday
It takes just under five minutes to do a final recce of the empty rooms of our former home.
We clamber around the boxes stacked in the hallway. As small and cramped as it is, it’s hard to believe this place was once a step up for us. Every wall, every cupboard, every corner is so familiar.
Living here has been frustrating at times, but it’s been ours. A place of safety.Home. And that’s the hardest thing to leave behind: the life I know. A routine I can count on.
‘You read the meter?’ I ask Dev, trying to wrestle with the practicalities.
‘Did all that yesterday and submitted the final readings online.’ Dev flashes me a thumbs-up, ducking into the cupboard under the stairs. ‘We’ll never have to deal with this crappy place again,’ he adds, laughing as he hauls out the bulky vacuum cleaner. ‘Goodbye, nightmare!’
‘Yeah, good riddance,’ I murmur, staring at the blank, scuffed walls in the hallway.
Paige made a flying visit yesterday and I gave her a set of keys, walked her through everything. I’d imagined us embroiled in an emotional goodbye, but she’d seemed quiet and in a bit of a rush to get off. It wasn’t like her. It was as if she was just going through the motions.
I told myself she was probably busy, but a kernel of worry settled in my stomach.
By the time the removal van pulls up at one o’clock, we’re ready. The movers are efficient, carrying the few sticks of furniture we’re taking and the boxes. The place empties faster than I’d expected, the once-cluttered rooms newly streamlined with just the basic furniture and rugs we’ve left for Paige. I give one last glance around.
‘Ready?’ Dev asks, keys in hand, his eyes sparkling.
I nod, exhaling a long breath. ‘Yep. Let’s go.’
My heart feels heavier on the drive out of Nottingham than I’d imagined. I watch the familiar streets slip by, and then the countryside stretches out before us. Dev chatters away about all the plans he has for the new house – home gym, parties with the joint friends we’ll apparently make there.
‘We’ve neglected making joint friends and it’s a good time to put that right,’ he says. ‘Be nice to have people round for drinks and a meal now and again. We’ve certainly got the room to entertain at Lakeview.’
I know I’m to blame for us not having more friends. Dev is gregarious and finds it easy to chat to new people. I’m always wary and suspicious of giving too much away. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s time to move past my belief that everyone is out to get me.
‘And maybe we could even get that dog,’ he continues, and I smile.
The further we drive, the more the nerves creep in. What if it doesn’t work out? What if we hate living there? It’s all been so quick with no time to assimilate. No time to take a pause and reflect on whether we should sell up or move in.
I gaze out of the window as the landscape changes. Rolling hills replace the urban chaos, and there’s a strange ache in my gut. Dev doesn’t seem to notice my silence, too wrapped up in the thrill of it all. He’s practically buzzing, and I try – really try – to feel the same. But something sits at the back of my mind in a dark corner I don’t want to look at too closely.
We pull into a small village just outside Windermere, stopping at a shop to grab some sandwiches before we head to the house. The sun is shining, the air crisp and fresh, and I can feel hope shimmering inside me again. This place is beautiful, serene. I can’t wait to start exploring the scenic area.
Inside the shop, we’re choosing our sandwiches when I hear two women a few aisles over, talking loudly.
‘You heard the winners of the big house are moving in?’ one says, her tone sour. ‘They were over there a couple of weeks ago drinking champagne and having a photo shoot done.’
‘Only in their early thirties, I heard,’ the other replies. ‘Just fell into their laps. Lucky them.’
