“Right,” he replies, looking pensive. “And do you think I’ll be all right, love?”
I am not an expert in this field, and I am not going to start throwing the ‘C’ word around over scones, but I suspect he has an early stage skin cancer that should, hopefully, be well within the scope of modern medicine to treat. I explain this in terms that I hope reassure him, and he seems to accept it.
“Thanks, Ella. It’s a weight off my mind knowing I’m not just ignoring it any more.”
“Yeah,” I reply, passing Larry a tiny wedge of ham from one of the sandwiches, “just ignoring it probably wasn’t the way to go – but now the wheels are in motion, try not to worry too much about it. I’m sure you’re going to outlive us all, George.”
He seems to think this is true, and who am I to argue?
“So,” he says eventually, as I knew he would, “have you given any thought to our offer?”
“Not as much as I’d like,” I reply. “Things got…busy, last night. I haven’t had time to really consider it. Like I said, I wasn’t even planning on coming here, never mind settling down!”
“Well, you can’t argue with fate, my love. You might not have planned it, but here you are. I’ve lived in Starshine the whole of my life, and can’t think of anywhere better. But maybe for someone as young as you it isn’t as exciting as the big wide world.”
I am silent, remembering my last day in London. The noise, the traffic, the disabled pigeons. I’m not sure any of that qualifies as exciting, but it was definitely different. Even if I don’t stay here, I’m not convinced I’m even remotely ready to go back to the city. I decide that I don’t want to think about it now, that it would spoil my scones.
“Tell me about your family, George,” I say, changing the subject. “If that’s not being nosy…”
“Nosy?” he says, looking surprised. “You think that qualifies as nosy, when I’ve known Connie Llewellyn for years? That barely qualifies as a question!”
“She does have a way about her,” I reply. “Less nosiness, and more just that she’s genuinely interested in people?”
“That’s about the size of it, love, yes. Diplomatically put. So, if you really want to know, I’ll give you the potted version. It’s not the happiest of stories though, I have to warn you.”
George always seems to be the very picture of positive energy, but I had suspected there was more to his history than meets the eye. The sadness that crossed his face when he showed me his family photos, the way he seems so determined to not let life defeat him. I smile and nod encouragingly, and he continues: “Well, first of all, Connie’s actually my daughter-in-law – I’m not sure if you knew that?”
“No! I didn’t…so Sophie and Dan and Michael are your grandchildren?”
“For my sins, yes. As well as Lilly and Meg, bless them. So, Connie arrived in Starshine a long time ago. She was a bit like you – from the city. All glitz and glamour, she was. Designer this and designer that – proper little diva.”
He smiles at the memory, and I try to reconcile my view of present-day Connie – sassy for sure, but usually found in jeans and trainers – with this younger version of her. I find it impossible.
“So, she ran her car into a ditch, and was spitting feathers by the time we got her out. Some choice language about country bumpkins and the like. That’s until she saw Simon, my eldest. He was a bit younger than her, and if I say so myself, a very good-looking man.”
“Chip off the old block then?” I say gently, winking at him. Damn, I think – that’s it. My wink for the day. I’m going to have to start rationing them.
“If you say so, dear. Anyway. Love at first sight for those two, it was, and cut a long story short, she stayed, they got married, started a family. And Sandy, my youngest – well, she was a bit of a thespian. One of those little girls who was forever putting on puppet shows, and holding recitals in the living room. She never took it that seriously, but every year she’d be in some kind of am dram production in town; she loved it. One Christmas, she was playing Cinderella in a panto, and Archie was in the audience. He was smitten, she felt the same, and again, a happy marriage and two gorgeous little girls.”
He pauses, messes with a sandwich he shows no sign of eating, and I sense that this isn’t easy for him.
“And Suzie?” I ask, remembering the third photo he showed me.
“Suzie was cut from different cloth. More like her mum, who was a bit of a wanderer until she arrived in Starshine. Suzie…well, to be honest, love, I’m not entirely sure where she is right now. It was never enough for her, this place, not like it was for the others. She went off to university in Newcastle, and she never really came home again. I get a postcard every now and then, telling me she’s all right, and I’ve built up quite the collection over the years – the last one was from Barbados, would you believe!Barbados!”
He repeats the word in utter amazement, as though there could be no more exotic location on the whole of the earth. I suppose for a man who seems so content with his own little corner of the world, it must seem unreal.
“It’s beautiful there,” I reply. “I visited on holiday a few years ago.”
“Isn’t that strange?” he says, gazing out of the window. “Maybe you met her. Maybe you had a drink with her at the bar, or passed her in the street, or sat next to her on a bus.”
“Maybe I did,” I answer, finding it unlikely but not wanting to burst his bubble. Stranger things have happened, and perhaps if I show him my holiday snaps one day, he’ll spot a familiar face in the background.
“Anyway,” he says, leaning back, pushing his plate away. “This is the sad bit, so get your napkin ready. It was in December, back in 2019, when it happened. Sandy was pregnant with Meg, and she started to have contractions. She was a couple of weeks off her due date, and got a bit worried, and…well, in the end, Simon said he’d drive her to the hospital just to get checked. Thought it might be those – I forget the name, those practice ones…”
“Braxton Hicks?”
“That’s the thing. Archie was in town anyway, doing some Christmas shopping, and Simon managed to get hold of him, and he was going to meet them at the hospital. I stayed at home with Lilly, who was all excited about getting to meet her little brother or sister. She wanted to call her Tinkerbell if it was a girl, and, well, Tinkerbell even if it was a boy – obsessed with fairies, that one. She loved the story of Peter Pan, Thumbelina, anything like that. Her mum used to read her the tales from picture books, and she had all the films on DVD. Eventually she got everybody in on it.”
