Amelia Grey's Fireside Dream (11 page)

‘They wanted to move in mid-August,’ Jack said, ‘but we persuaded them to give us a couple more weeks. If our offer’s accepted, we could push everything through in two months. What do you think, Amelia?’

The truth was, I wasn’t sure what I wanted any more. It seemed like after years of everything playing out pretty much as I expected it to, things were now taking on a life of their own. But I could picture me and Jack in Hazelton, in that cottage. I really liked what I’d seen of the village.

‘You know what? I think we should go for it.’ I said, a smile breaking out on my face. ‘We can just about afford it, we can add value to it, and it’ll be an adventure.’

Sunita smiled at me encouragingly.

‘Let’s call both agents on Monday, Jack. And right now, I think I definitely need a drink.’

*

‘That wasn’t bad, Miss,’ Shanice said. ‘It was hardly that boring at all.’ She was walking with me through the exit of the Globe Theatre, with the rest of the group bounding ahead. July was drawing to a close, along with the school term and my time at St Catherine’s.

‘I kind of liked it too, although I didn’t understand all of it,’ Paul said, shrugging. ‘And it was lame having to stand up the whole time.’

‘You would have been standing up in Shakespeare’s time,’ I said. ‘Unless you’d been rich, of course.’

‘Of course I would have been rich, Miss,’ Paul replied with a grin.

The group reached a stretch of grass outside Tate Modern.

‘What about here, Miss?’ Shanice shouted over.

‘Yes, let’s take a seat, everybody. Did you all bring something to eat?’

My students sat down in loose groups, and got food and drink out of their rucksacks. A couple of them gathered
around Shanice, and peered over to see what they were doing.

‘Don’t look, Miss,’ she said with a smile.

A moment later, she brought over a cake covered in white icing with red and blue lettering on it, and the other students gathered round me.

I felt tears spring to my eyes as I read the message:

Good Luck! We’ll miss you. 10E

The next day at school, the end-of-term atmosphere was impossible to miss. The volume in each of my classes was louder, the students were more excitable, but the biggest change was in the staffroom – all the teachers who during term had struggled through, with frown lines growing increasingly deep between their brows, now had smiles on their faces and colour back in their cheeks.

I was starting to feel lighter too. Part of it was finishing school, but the other part was that moving to Kent seemed as though it was really going to happen. Our offer on Brambledown Cottage had been accepted, we’d had our survey done, and now our solicitors were ironing out the contractual details. With any luck, we’d complete in August and pick up our keys at the start of September. Yes – we were taking a risk, given that I hadn’t seen properly inside the cottage, but it felt right.

I sought out Trey’s form tutor, Mrs McKenna, and passed
her the package I’d put together. ‘I know we don’t know yet about next term, but in case he does come back, I don’t want him falling behind. So this is the course material we’ve been studying, plus the things that he might have missed and some websites that will help him catch up.’

There was also a letter, saying that whatever was going on, I hoped he’d come back to school.

‘Thanks,’ she said, taking it. ‘I’ll send it out to his caseworker. We’re all hoping to see him again soon, so hopefully she’ll make some progress getting through to him.

I went over to my locker and cleared it, putting notebooks and stationery into a bag and separating out a couple of books to return to the library.

‘Looks strange like that, doesn’t it? All empty,’ Carly said, appearing by my side and handing me a coffee she’d just made.

‘Thanks,’ I said, taking it. ‘Yes, it does. Hard to believe this is probably the last coffee we’ll ever have together in the staffroom.’

‘Seven years of teaching – and learning. Oh, and despairing,’ she said, laughing.

‘I’ll miss this,’ I said, giving her arm a squeeze. ‘I’ll miss you.’

‘Tell me about it.’ She smiled. ‘You’re going off to a countryside adventure and I’m just going to be stuck here on my lonesome.’

She made a sad face and pouted. Thankfully her days of being genuinely down over things with Alex seemed to be drawing to a close. She’d resolved not to wait around, and had even been on a couple of internet dates. Nothing had come of them, but she’d vowed to get on and move forward, and she wasn’t wasting any time.

‘You’ll be OK,’ I said. ‘You’ll find someone else to be a coffee-slave for soon enough. And I get the feeling I might still see you around.’

‘Damn right,’ she said. ‘Just you try and stop me coming to visit.’

‘It’s been a journey,’ I said, and gave her a big hug.

I walked out into the car park that afternoon and loaded my car with the things from my locker and classroom that I’d accumulated over the years. It was just a couple of boxes, not as much as I’d expected. The students grouped together by the school gates on the warm day, free at last to enjoy the summer and do whatever they wanted, and yet none of them in any hurry to leave the school premises. They, like me, had mixed feelings about letting their schooldays go.

*

‘Take with us, or box for charity?’ Jack said, holding up a grey Manchester University hoodie.

‘Don’t you dare put that in the charity bag,’ I said, smiling and taking it from him. I felt the soft cotton against my
face and put it on over my pyjamas. ‘Look, it fits perfectly still.’

‘It looks cute on you, actually,’ he said, drawing me into his arms and kissing me. ‘Although I don’t feel we’re making a whole lot of progress on this decluttering mission.’

I glanced around the living room, where we were boxing up our belongings ready for the move to Hazelton. After a couple of hiccups, where our solicitor said they’d had trouble getting the vendor’s signature, we were finally ready to exchange. In two weeks another couple would be making this flat in Addison Road their new home, and we’d be moving to Hazelton. My mum couldn’t have been more excited at the news that Jack and I would be living so close to her.

But trying to reduce our belongings and ensure we were only taking things with us that we would really use wasn’t proving easy.

‘Not even one teapot?’ Jack said, holding up one of my collection. Admittedly it wasn’t the prettiest – a souvenir from Scarborough, with a tacky picture on the side. But it had been one of my first, and a reminder of a trip I’d taken there with my grandparents. It wasn’t going anywhere.

‘No way,’ I said firmly. ‘Don’t even think it. All the teapots are coming with us. We have space. It’s your comic book collection that needs reducing, if you ask me.’

‘Comic books?’ he said, holding up an early edition of
Sin City
from a towering pile we’d taken out of one of the cupboards. ‘I swear you only do it to wind me up. They’re
graphic novels
, Amelia.’ He smiled. ‘And they are most definitely not going anywhere.’

Dexter leapt out of an empty box he’d been hiding in and balanced for a moment on the side, then, as the box tipped, the flap made a little ramp for him to descend on to the carpet. He came over to us, and wound his way round Jack’s legs.

‘Don’t worry, Dexter,’ he said, bending to pick him up. ‘I’m fairly confident you’ll make the cut.’

‘We’re really doing it, aren’t we?’ I said, grinning.

‘We certainly are.’

Welcome to Hazelton
Population: 3,000
Twinned with Chinon, France
Winner of best kept British village 1999

Saturday, 7 September

‘What time are the removal men coming again?’ I asked Jack, peering out of the window at the street below. The leaves on the plane trees that lined the road had changed from green to yellow and gold, a few gently fluttering down to the pavement. A light rain was falling.

‘Midday, so any time now.’ Jack joined me. ‘Actually, look.’ He pointed to a large lorry parking up outside the betting shop. ‘That’s probably them.’

‘Right, so this is it,’ I said, taking a deep breath.

‘All set for our new life,’ Jack said, squeezing my hand. ‘No second thoughts?’

‘None. I can’t wait.’

We let the removal men in, and all four of us went up and down the stairs of our block with the boxes. When the lorry was full, Jack and I went back up to the flat to do a final check. We dipped in and out of the rooms that we’d spent the first two years of our married life in, and met again at the front door, the same sorrowful expression on both our faces.

‘I guess this is the last time we’ll ever walk out of this place,’ Jack said.

I thought of our first day in the flat …

*

‘Welcome to our castle,’ Jack had said, throwing open the front door to Addison Road and leading me through into the flat.

It was bare – but I loved it. I scurried, full of excitement, through each room, reminding myself where everything was. It didn’t take long – in around three minutes I was back in Jack’s arms. ‘Our own place,’ I said, kissing him. ‘We’re here, Jack.’

He smiled, a flicker of light in his brown eyes. ‘Next step – furniture.’ He laughed.

‘We’ve got a bed; what more could you possibly want?’ I
said cheekily. The bed, which the removal men would be delivering later that day along with the other things from our old rented flat, was a cheap futon, but it would do for now.

Jack squeezed my hand tight. ‘I can’t wait to marry you,’ he said.

‘Me neither.’

*

Dexter wove between my legs, bringing me back to the present.

‘We won’t forget you, Dex. Don’t worry,’ I said, scooping him up into my arms.

Jack passed me the plastic box we used to take him to the vet, and together we persuaded him to go inside.

‘We’re going to make new memories, you know,’ Jack said, reading my mind. ‘Even better ones.’

I kissed him, and smiled, ready now to leave our London life behind.

‘Come on, sweetheart,’ Jack said, ruffling my hair. ‘It’s time to go.’

We drove behind the lorry, stopping off at our rented garage to pick up the antique furniture Grandma Niki and Grandpa had left me. We loaded the side table, drinks cabinet and wardrobes into the van – I was happy we’d finally have somewhere to put them.

As we drew closer to the cottage, the busy streets of East
London seemed no more than a distant memory. I gazed out of the car window, thinking about what the cottage would be like inside, and how we’d settle into the village. By the time we arrived in Hazelton, I was chewing my nails at the prospect of our new start.

The agent, Shannon, met us by the front door and passed us the keys. ‘Hi,’ she said, with a smile she was clearly forcing. ‘Here are the keys. Welcome to your new home.’

‘Thank you,’ Jack said.

‘Is everything OK?’ I asked.

‘I’m sorry about all the stuff still in there,’ Shannon said, ‘but I’m sure you can work around it. The living room and bedroom are full of Mrs McGuire’s furniture, so only part of the house has been professionally cleaned. Her family have been trying to reason with her, but she hasn’t been exactly cooperative about moving out.’

‘What?’ I said. ‘Is there nothing you can do? We need to move in today.’

‘It’s been a bit of a nightmare, I’m afraid,’ Shannon s aid, tugging at her highlighted hair distractedly. ‘Believe me, I’ve been trying. But the owner’s refusing to listen to anyone.’

I turned to look at our removal men, who were already unloading boxes from the back of the lorry.

‘We need the cottage cleared,’ I said. ‘Isn’t that usually the deal?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Shannon said feebly.

‘When will it be sorted?’ Jack asked.

‘They’ve promised me her things will be gone by the end of the week. The house is yours now, and you can move your things in but, as I say, you may just have to work around what’s in there.’

‘We’ll make do,’ I said to Jack. ‘At least we can move in.’

‘You haven’t seen inside yet, have you?’ Shannon said, turning to me. ‘After all that palaver at the viewing. Well, with a bit of vision, I’m sure you’ll be very happy living here.’

Shannon left, and got into her car.

‘Vision?’ I asked Jack nervously, once we were inside the porch. A feeling of dread built up inside me. ‘Jack, what did she mean by that?’

‘We said we were willing to do some work, Amelia, didn’t we?’

*

In the cottage hallway, the early evening sunlight was filtering through windows that were thick with dirt. To our right was a wooden staircase with dark wood banisters, some spindles missing, some broken. The removal men were putting most of our things in the garage – just a few essential boxes and the bed would be moving in with us today.

The dust, the grime, I thought, as I ran my finger over the dado rail – it was all superficial. A few days and it would
be clean – hopefully sorted by the owner, but if not, then with some work from us. The hallway whispered from the past through original flooring, tiles and skirting boards.

‘Let’s look at the living room first,’ Jack said, leading me through to a room on the left. ‘We can put Dexter in there while we get settled.’ He carried the cat box with him. ‘Like I told you, the owner has been living here since the nineteen sixties. For the past few years she wasn’t able to get up the stairs on her own, so she was using the living room as a bedroom. The layout’s a bit weird at the moment but we can change that easily enough.’

I peeked round the doorway, my heart in my throat, hoping to see a reception room as cosy and welcoming as the one we’d fallen for in Arcadia Cottage. But despite the dark timber beams and posts, and the original windows, my hopes were dashed – with a bed in the middle of it, and clothes on rails all around, the room was dingy.

‘Look, I know what you’re thinking,’ Jack said, putting his arm around my waist. ‘But honestly, there’s so much potential here – have you seen the windows?’ He pointed to the windows at the front of the house, criss-crossed with iron latticework, but it was hard to make them out, obscured as they were by someone else’s belongings.