Amelia Grey's Fireside Dream (23 page)

‘That was different.’ The last time, a year ago, we were living in east London with dozens of clothes shops and gigs to keep her entertained. She’d loved that. ‘We’re in the country now. There’s not going to be much for her to do.’

‘She’ll be fine,’ Dad insisted. ‘And it’ll give Caitlin and me a chance to get back on track – you know how I hate arguing. This house is full of it at the moment.’

I paused, trying to find another way to let my dad know what a bad idea this was.

‘You’re all right with the idea, aren’t you?’ he asked again.

I took a deep breath, but the strength I needed to refuse him faltered. ‘OK, Dad. Mirabel can stay. But while she’s here, I’m going to need her to help out.’

*

Later that evening Jack and I were lying in bed. I was looking through the interiors book Carly had bought me, and Jack was checking messages on his phone.

‘You’re annoyed with me, aren’t you?’ I said. ‘I’ll understand if you are.’

‘No, I’m not,’ he said, putting his phone down and turning to look at me. ‘I’m just … I don’t know, I’m a little frustrated with the situation I guess.’

‘Because of the money,’ I said, recalling how I’d bottled out of asking my dad what I’d intended to.

‘Not really. Well, not only that. It’s just – you’re tough, Amelia. You’re straightforward and honest with most people in your life, and yet with your dad … I don’t know – it seems like you let him just walk right over you. Instead of getting back the money you need, we’ve now got Mirabel coming to stay.’

‘Do you not want her to stay?’

‘It’s not that – she’s your sister, Amelia. It’s up to you. But do you want her staying here? When this place is still a building site? I don’t get the impression you do. From what you told me it didn’t exactly sound as though it was your decision.’

‘I wasn’t keen at first, you’re right. But that was selfish. If Dad needs a break then I want to help. Once she’s here, I’m sure it’ll be absolutely fine.’

‘As long as you’re all right with it, I am,’ Jack said. ‘I don’t want to argue.’

‘I know. And I don’t want that either,’ I said. I closed the book and put it on the side. ‘I’m just tired, Jack.’

‘So am I.’

*

‘Hello there!’ It was good to hear Carly’s voice, familiar and comforting.

‘Hi,’ I said, settling down on my bed and cradling the phone in my hand. ‘I’m glad to catch you – thought you might have more interesting things to do on a Saturday evening.’

‘Not tonight, no. Alex and Jules are having some bonding time at the cinema.’

‘How is the planning for your trip to Australia going?’

‘Good, thanks. Alex has been in touch with his cousin in Melbourne, so we’ll have a place to crash there, and I’ve got a friend in Sydney, by Bondi. She’s offered us her spare room for the days that we’re there.’

‘Sounds amazing,’ I said. ‘I’m a bit envious, I must say.

‘Well, if you will leave me in this big city all on my own, I have to make plans to keep myself entertained. So what’s new in your world?’ Carly asked.

‘My mum’s in love.’

‘Really?’

‘I know. And there you were thinking you might have missed the boat at twenty-nine.’

‘How do you feel about it?’

‘It’s strange. But OK, I guess. Anyway, talking about my family, Mirabel’s coming to stay in a couple of weeks.’

‘Mirabel the mentalist,’ Carly said, laughing. ‘How are you going to keep her entertained for a whole week?’

‘She’ll be OK,’ I said. ‘She’s going to help us out with the house.’

‘Mirabel? The same Mirabel who came to stay with you last summer?’

‘She’s sixteen now. I’m sure she’ll be a bit more mature this time.’

‘If you say so,’ Carly said sceptically. ‘Have you forgotten about her shoplifting excursion last year?’

‘I think that was a one-off,’ I said, recalling the incident at Claire’s Accessories vividly. Thank God the police had let her off with a caution. ‘Or if not, I’m sure she’s over that stuff by now.’

‘Good luck,’ Carly said. ‘I think you might need it.’

‘God, don’t say that. There have been enough unexpected things to deal with in the cottage.’

‘How are things there?’

‘Fine,’ I said.

‘Fine, really fine – or pretend fine?’

‘Really fine,’ I said, my head feeling foggy. ‘Or perhaps not entirely. I don’t know, Carly.’

‘What is it?’

‘Jack and I aren’t getting on that well. It’s little things, but they’ve all been building up – the house, my family, money …’

‘I thought you were OK for money for the renovations?’

‘So did I … but I think I’ve probably been splashing out
a bit more than I should have. But I want to make this place perfect, and I thought he did too. I can’t remember the last time we had any fun together, Carls.’

‘Doing up a house does put a lot of strain on you.’

‘I know, and I was prepared for that. I thought we were strong, but I feel it’s been a while since we brought out the best in each other. I mean, you saw how it was between us the other night.’

‘It did seem like you might have a few things to discuss.’

‘But we’re not. We’re barely talking about the things that really matter.’

There was something else, of course. Something that was getting to be too big to ignore. Something I couldn’t admit to Carly, and that I’d barely started to admit to myself. When I fell asleep at night, it wasn’t always Jack I thought about.

‘You’ll work it out,’ Carly said, her voice lifting a fraction, becoming more upbeat. ‘You have to. You’re Amelia and Jack – you’re meant to be together.’

Meant to be together. That was what I’d always assumed too.

*

A week later Jack opened the door to the bathroom fitters, who were delivering the bath and basin. He stood back as they went upstairs to the room. We’d spent the previous day preparing the floorboards so that everything was ready.

‘I’m sure you’ll feel differently when they’re all plumbed in,’ I said, standing with him in the hallway.

‘Maybe I will. But it’s not the bath, Amelia. You know that.’

I heard the bathroom fitters knock into something, and had a sudden urge to go up and see what was going on. After what had happened with the kitchen, I didn’t want to take any chances.

‘I know, it’s the money,’ I said. ‘But we can work to a budget on the other rooms. The kitchen and bathroom were always going to be the big expense.’

Jack’s gaze drifted towards the floor, then he looked at me again. ‘Do you really still believe that’s what’s going on?’ he said.

I looked at him, trying to find the words to answer.

‘It’s not just about the cottage.’

‘Then what is it?’

‘I just feel we’re not on the same page at the moment,’ Jack said. ‘About anything.’

‘We talk.’

‘Yes. But we’re not really communicating with each other – about the house, about money, about what we really want from life.’

‘I’ve told you where I stand.’

‘Yes – and that’s exactly how it felt, Amelia. You’ve made your decision, and that’s that. End of story.’

His eyes were unusually stern.

‘It’s not like that,’ I said. ‘But can’t we just live in the moment for a while, like we said? Until we have the cottage finished, at least.’ I reached out to put my hand on his, but he didn’t respond.

‘Until we have the cottage finished … I don’t know.’ He shook his head. ‘It feels as though we’re building a house, but not a home.’

I heard something clatter upstairs, and I moved to go up. Jack put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Amelia. Are you even listening to me?’

‘Yes, I am. It’s just … You remember what happened last time with the leak.’

‘I couldn’t care less about that right now,’ Jack said. ‘I’m trying to tell you I’m not happy. And I can’t see myself being happy if things carry on the way they are.’

A lump formed in my throat. Somewhere, deep down, his words resonated, chiming with my own feelings. I might have been able to hide from those, but I couldn’t ignore Jack’s words.

‘I want us to want the same things, but I don’t know if we do any more,’ Jack said.

‘We do,’ I said feebly. It pained me not to be able to say it with more certainty, not to know the right answer.

There was silence between us for a moment.

‘I think we need a break,’ Jack said.

‘A break?’ I asked, my voice faint.

‘Yes, from each other. Amelia, I’m going to move out for a while.’

Before: Dark room with dirty windows. Striped wallpaper. Green carpet with worn patches. Heavy velvet drapes in red.

Monday, 21 October

From:
[email protected]

To:
[email protected]

Hi, Jack:

I don’t really understand what just happened, or what’s happening to us. I know you said you needed space to think, but did you really have to leave the cottage? Can’t we talk?

Amelia x

From:
[email protected]

To:
[email protected]

Hi, Amelia.

I can’t help thinking your mind – part of you – has been somewhere else lately. I don’t know where it is, but it’s not in bed with me at night. That closeness … I don’t know, I feel as if the woman I fell in love with has disappeared.

I thought we could get past anything. After all these years together. But maybe we can’t. We’ve both admitted that having a baby isn’t something we can meet in the middle on and I’ve realized that matters to me more than I thought.

I’m staying in London with Hiro for a while. I can’t see another way – it didn’t feel we were being honest with each other. Maybe with some time and distance we can start to be.

Jack

Saturday, 26 October

The oak in the back garden had lost its leaves completely, as had the apple tree. The spindly branches wove up into a white winter sky. I’d scraped frost off the windscreen of our car when I went to pick Mirabel up from Gatwick that morning.

‘God, if Dad had told me you were all the way out here, I’d never have agreed to come,’ Mirabel said, swiftly dumping
her things on the floor of the spare bedroom and checking her hair in the mirror. Black out of a bottle, it fell past her shoulders in shiny waves. Her eyes, grass-green and piercing, were hooded by shadow-heavy lids.

A week on from Jack leaving, my ears were still ringing from the shock. I felt numb. I’d sat with him that Sunday in the bedroom, watched him pack his bags with clothes and essentials, neither of us saying a word. I’d wanted to tell him to stop, that there was a way round this, that we could fix things. But I hadn’t said a word. Instead I’d walked with him to the front door, and watched him leave.

Mirabel had shown her displeasure that we weren’t heading towards London this time during the car ride.

‘This is where we live now, simple as that,’ I said firmly.

‘It’s in the middle of nowhere. And this room is a dump.’

‘That’s exactly what you’re going to be helping with.’

She didn’t seem to hear me, or at least didn’t register what I was saying. She pulled back the curtains and caught sight of Spencer and Callum out on the patio having a tea break.

‘Ooh, but perhaps things are looking up. Who are they?’ She let out a quiet wolf whistle.

‘Their names are Spencer and Callum. They’re helping us out with some of the work.’

‘They definitely look like the most interesting thing to do around here.’

‘To “do”? Did you really just say that?’

Mirabel tilted her head and shrugged.

‘I thought you had a boyfriend, anyway?’

‘Is that what Dad told you?’ She threw me a cutting look. ‘Argh, drives me crazy when he talks about me behind my back. I’m not with anyone, OK? Jesse and I broke up. Mum and Dad don’t know – I couldn’t deal with them being smug about it. I knew how badly they wanted me to dump him.’

‘Sorry things didn’t work out.’

‘I’m not,’ Mirabel replied flippantly. ‘I was getting bored with him anyway. I’m too young to be tied down.’

‘Fair enough. Sounds like perhaps it was a good time for a trip like this.’

‘I thought it would be fun to visit you. But that was when I thought we’d be going out on the town together like last time, with Jack and his friends. Not stuck in a rural backwater. Where is he, anyway?’

‘Jack’s away. He’s staying in London for a few days with a friend.’

‘Great. So it’s going to be even more boring around here. Did you two fall out?’

I flinched, unsettled by the way she’d seen right through me. ‘No,’ I lied. ‘He just has a lot on at work. Anyway, your stay is going to be a bit different this time. Did Dad tell you what you’d be doing while you were over here?’

‘What do you mean, doing? I’m here for a break, to have
a holiday. I brought some stuff with me to chill out with.’ She unpacked some things from her bag – an iPad, magazines and a copy of a
Fifty Shades of Grey
knock-off. I averted my eyes from the handcuffs on the front cover. Christ, I thought. She’s only sixteen.

‘You’re not here to chill out, no. I need some help with doing up the cottage.’

‘You are kidding,’ Mirabel said, her finely arched and pencilled eyebrows rising.

‘Nope, I’m definitely not.’

‘Me? What a nightmare.’ Mirabel sighed.

‘Hardly,’ I said. ‘A bit of painting, that’s all. I’ll show you what I mean.’

‘I bought this nautical print wallpaper for the two side walls of the spare bedroom,’ I said, unrolling part of it to reveal a blue anchor print on a white background. ‘What do you think?’

‘Cute,’ she said. ‘And you’ll have the other two walls, what, painted white?’

‘Yes, that was what I was thinking,’ I said, running my fingers over the tired red-and-green striped wallpaper that had bubbled in places. ‘I’ve got some fabric to run up pale blue curtains, and then I’d like to set up a little table in the corner, so that when people aren’t staying I can have my sewing machine in here.’

‘You still into that stuff?’

‘You could say that.’ I smiled. ‘I think it’s got worse with age, actually. I’m going to make a few cushion covers too. So, do you think you could help with the painting and wallpapering?’