Fern in the garden:
Pale green cardi (John Lewis)
White and green blouse (Hobbs)
White trousers (Lands’ End)
Comfy green sandals (same)
Total est. cost: £180
‘ … going out in a blaze of glory.’
As the car pulled up in front of the home Annie’s mother had lived in for many years, Annie’s mind was racing with plans.
Could they move? Could they really move? Would they rent out the house? Sell the house? What could Ed do in New York? Could he teach music there? Would it be easy to move if Annie was working with Svetlana’s company? Would they all be able to get visas?
What about Owen? Would he want to leave school for a move like this? And Lana? All her friends would be left behind in London.
It would be easy enough for the babies to move – but then what about Dinah? When Annie asked herself this question, she felt a big pang. Dinah couldn’t move with them. Dinah had a husband, Bryan, and a daughter of her own, Billie, and they were all very happily settled in London.
With no beloved sister to look after the twins, she would have to find one of those New York nannies. The kind she’d seen in Central Park, wheeling the tiny ‘Hudson Juniors’ about in the most up-to-the-nanosecond strollers.
Maybe Owen could go to business school … he’d probably get in early. Maybe Lana would want to work for Perfect Dress—
‘Annie!’
Her mum was already at the front door, smiling delightedly, waving them all in.
‘Hello Mum!’
With Minnie in her arms, Annie walked up the path, marvelling at how luscious and beautiful the garden still looked for October. She hugged her mother hello.
‘Hello, hello, my girls,’ Fern smiled at them, ‘and how are my boys?’ she asked, turning her attention to Ed and Micky.
Annie studied her mum closely. She looked just a little smaller and frailer today. Sometimes when Annie saw her, she thought her mum looked better and stronger. Sometimes, like today, she thought she looked just a little more vulnerable.
Just over a year ago now, Fern had been diagnosed with early-onset dementia and every time Annie saw her, she was frightened that the condition would be worse.
Fern didn’t need care yet, but a student nurse rented a room in Fern’s house as a temporary solution, so there was someone on hand who could let Fern’s daughters know in between their visits if their mother wasn’t looking after herself properly.
‘How are you?’ Annie said, giving her mum another hug and slipping a hand around her waist. Fern felt comfortingly solid. ‘You’re eating well then,’ Annie said, relieved.
‘Yes, too well. Stefano is a very good cook. Did you know that? Whenever he has an evening in, he makes us both a wonderful supper. He’s not nearly as good as Ed, though,’ she added quickly, reaching up to kiss both Ed and Micky.
‘The garden looks beautiful,’ Annie told her.
‘I know, doesn’t it just? I’ve been working away all summer long and now it’s going out in a blaze of glory.’
Fern proudly gave a mini-tour of the bushes and plants she was most pleased with this season.
Annie tried to listen with interest but really, gardening was not her thing. Maybe in some dim and distant time in the future, when all her children had grown up, she might enjoy pottering round the flower beds planting things and taking as much delight in the new season’s flowers and shrubs as she did in the new season’s clothes and accessories. But right now, her garden was a simple patch of irregularly mown lawn, strewn with toddler toys and the odd unhappy plant in a tub which she struggled to keep alive.
‘So tell me all about New York,’ Fern said, as they went inside to the sitting room and sat down, ‘I want to hear everything. The Empire State Building, the museums, the shops. That must be a wonderful city, I’ll bet.’
Annie did tell, thinking of all the places she’d been, all the sights, the hustle and bustle, the noise, the roaring sense of ambition to the place.
‘People are so focused,’ she said, ‘they’re all looking fantastic, they’re all jostling, they’ve got things to do, places to be, ladders to climb …’
‘You loved it, didn’t you?’ Fern asked, smiling, pouring tea and understanding her daughter perfectly.
‘I did. I absolutely loved it. Now that I’m back … I think I feel homesick.’
Ed laughed quietly, while Fern shook her head. ‘But you’re not planning a move or anything dramatic, are you?’ she asked, her eyes catching Annie’s.
‘Well … you never know. It might be really interesting to go for … well … a year or so.’
She saw the stricken look in Fern’s eyes straight away. ‘But I can’t move over with you, you know,’ her mum said, stirring her tea, ‘there’s the garden.’
Oh for goodness’ sake! This is what gardeners got like – they couldn’t leave the country for a fortnight, terrified they’d miss the philo-dilo-whatsit presenting its one and only blossom of the year.
‘Then there’s …’ Fern carried on stirring, ‘there’s the problem with the … you know … oh, what is it again?’ The infuriated look which accompanied every one of Fern’s regular senior moments crossed her face.
‘Planes? You don’t like to fly?’ Ed wondered, trying to be helpful.
‘Love flying … No the – what’s it called? That nice man who’s in charge. He’s trying to sort it out. Oh! What’s his name? I can’t remember anything …’ she looked upset now.
‘Relax, Mum,’ Annie soothed, ‘yoga breaths, it will come.’
‘The money you have to pay, for doctors …’
‘Health insurance,’ Ed said, understanding now.
‘Thank you Ed. Health insurance. How can I possibly move over there in my state? It would probably cost £100 a day just to let me come in. I’m not sure if I could even visit you very often. And who is the nice man in charge?’
‘Barack Obama?’ Ed said.
Annie moved along the sofa so that she was right beside her mother. She put an arm around her and leaned her head so that it was on her mum’s shoulder. She breathed in Chanel No. 19, plus the liquid soap which had been used to gently hand-wash the beige cashmere cardigan draped over her mum’s shoulders.
Annie closed her eyes for a moment and went through the pros and cons in her mind. What if something happened to her mum when she was on the other side of the Atlantic? She tried to imagine having to make some terrible, lonely and tormented journey home.
Then she thought of Dinah and Billie: the one growing older and the other growing up. She would miss so much of that time, wouldn’t really know either of them as incredibly well as she did now.
She thought of Owen trying to fit in at a new school. He’d never had to move school before.
And Ed might have to look after the babies all day long because he didn’t have a work permit.
But then Fifth Avenue crept temptingly into her thoughts: hot and heady, sparkling with lights, shop windows, the steady stream of yellow cabs, honking horns, packed with life, energy and excitement.
She thought of Elena and the thrill of the dress sales. They’d made a dress together which Emily Wilmington had chosen to wear on her date with Josh Hartnett! It still amazed her. Emily Wilmington, who could pick any dress from the Vanity Fair rails which took her fancy, had worn their dress for her film-star date.
‘Mumma.’ Minnie, clutching at the table leg for support, threw her head into Annie’s lap. ‘Mummmmmma,’ she repeated, burying her face against Annie’s leg. Annie touched the silky hair on Minnie’s head.
Just as she’d told Ed in New York, she loved having attachments, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.