When the day came to head home for Christmas, Lucy collected Granny Annie on her way to the train station. She didn’t trust her ninety-one-year-old grandma to get herself to the right place at the right time without any help. Annie couldn’t figure out how to work the mobile phone they had given her last year for Christmas so was unable to communicate with anyone from the minute she left the house. It therefore made sense for her to stay put and for Lucy to collect her en route.
Having fetched Annie and her suitcase and bundled her into a cab along with her own luggage, they set off for Paddington and the great expanse of countryside that they would soon be speeding across before reaching Bodmin and the little village of Trebetheric, their final destination.
Lucy was grateful for their pre-booked seats on the busy train. It was full of people making their way home for the festive season. Sipping cups of tea from the trolley while sharing a KitKat, Annie and Lucy chatted about life, love and family, catching up on each other’s news and reminiscing about years gone by.
The countryside zoomed past the windows; the winter had muted the riotous colour palette that Lucy had seen on her way down to the southwest that summer. Remembering how heartbroken she had been seven months earlier, she felt immensely proud of herself for the long way she had come since. She felt stronger and tougher, as though she had built a little protective wall around her heart. Her grandmother was a source of massive inspiration for Lucy. She had an incredible youthful energy and such a sharp sense of humour, that, despite the occasional muddle where she would forget names or faces, she could keep up with the rest of them without any problem. Lucy hoped that she would be just like her grandmother if she was ever lucky enough to reach that age.
Taking a deep breath, Lucy decided to take the opportunity to talk to her about her decision to go it alone. It occurred to her that now would be the ideal time. There was nothing her grandmother hated more than making a scene in public so she would have to behave herself and control her reaction appropriately, no matter how shocked she might be. The concept would be a hard one for anyone of Annie’s generation to get their head around.
Lucy turned to face her grandmother in the seat next to her. ‘Granny,’ said Lucy, ‘I have something I want to tell you.’
‘Yes darling,’ said Annie, putting her novel down to give her granddaughter her full attention. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, the thing is… I’m not sure you are going to really understand.’
‘What are you talking about, darling? Of course I will understand!’ said Annie, amused.
‘It’s something that would have been unheard of in your day, you see…’ said Lucy.
‘There are plenty of things that were unheard of in my day, Lucy. I can tell you!’
‘Okay, so have you ever heard of a woman having a baby by herself?’ asked Lucy.
‘Of course I have!’ said Annie. ‘I am a woman of the world, I know these things happen.’
Lucy relaxed slightly.
‘I mean, I’d think you were a fool if it happened to you, but I know these things do happen,’ added Annie, inspecting her granddaughter a little more suspiciously. ‘Don’t tell me, you have been sleeping around?’ she asked, suddenly horrified at the prospect.
‘No, Granny, of course not!’ laughed Lucy, amused at the conclusion her grandmother had jumped to.
‘Are you pregnant?’ demanded Annie.
‘No,’ said Lucy, crossing her fingers under the table. She would be finding out whether the cycle had worked while she was in Cornwall.
‘So what are you talking about?’ asked Annie.
‘Well, I have made a tricky decision that I want to share with you. It would mean a lot to me if I had your support,’ explained Lucy.
‘Right…’ said Annie dubiously.
Lucy took a deep breath, ‘I have decided to try and have a baby by myself. Not by sleeping with random strangers. Not by sleeping with anyone at all, in fact.’
‘Are you going to adopt?’ asked Annie, her eyebrows hovering somewhere near her hairline.
‘No, not adoption. There is a different way. It is called donor insemination and they do it at a private fertility clinic.’
‘Hang on a minute, why would you consider having a baby when you haven’t got a boyfriend? Let alone a husband?’ asked Annie, as Lucy had suspected that she would.
‘Because I am getting too old to wait any longer to meet the man of my dreams. I don’t want to waste my last fertile years hoping I will meet someone,’ explained Lucy.
‘But a child needs two parents,’ said Annie, unable to keep the certainty out of her voice.
‘Well, yes, I suppose in an ideal world you would want all children to have a mum and a dad. But I know plenty of lovely, happy people who have been brought up by one parent. Say if the father died and the mother didn’t remarry, the child would only have one parent, and no one would complain about that,’ said Lucy.
‘Well yes but that is entirely different darling,’ replied Annie. ‘You would actively be choosing to bring a child into your life without a father. It wouldn’t be right.’
Lucy winced. She wasn’t surprised at her beloved granny’s reaction but it didn’t make it any easier. ‘But I will have my family. I will have you and mum and dad, and Ollie. And my friends. We will be enough to look after the baby. And I would love it so much. Being a mother is the one thing I want more than anything and I just can’t accept that it won’t happen. Please try to understand…’ Lucy felt her eyes welling up with tears.
‘I’m sorry, Lucy, but I really don’t agree with it. Perhaps I am too set in my ways, but it just seems selfish to bring a baby into the world just because you want one. If you are meant to have a child then God will give you one. You will meet a man and have a baby the way nature intended. And I am sure that it will happen, you aren’t past it yet, darling!’
‘I’m not so sure about that,’ said Lucy.
Annie raised her eyebrows and chuckled to herself at the utter absurdity of the suggestion. She shook her head and reached for her book.
Lucy blinked away a few tears and picked up her magazine. She understood that the conversation was closed. It would be too much to tell Annie that she had already had not one but two rounds of treatment. She had to hope that if she fell pregnant, Annie would come round to the idea and accept it. But for now, she would have to leave it at that. Talking about it further would just upset Annie, and that was the last thing Lucy wanted.
After eating some sandwiches from the buffet car, Annie drifted off for an afternoon nap, not another word on the topic was mentioned. Lucy followed suit. She thought there was something incredibly soothing about the rhythmic chugging of the train. Ever since she was little, Lucy had loved dozing in the back of a car, on trains or airplanes, during any long journey, finding the thrum of the engine naturally soporific.
Having slumbered on and off for the rest of the journey, they found themselves arriving at Bodmin Parkway in no time. As always, the reliable Ginny was there waiting for them in her Land Rover. Scatty though she may be, she had never once missed a train’s arrival or departure.
They made their way home through the winding lanes in record time. As they parked outside the cottage, Tiggy raced up to the car, barking and wagging her tail in an ecstatic greeting, sniffing their luggage to see if they concealed any doggy treats for her delectation. They opened the door just as Ollie was padding down the stairs into the hall, rubbing his eyes sleepily, his hair perfecting the just-out-of-bed look much sought after by surfers and teenagers alike.
‘Granny Annie!’ he cried as he came over to the door. ‘Don’t you look gorgeous! You haven’t aged a bit since the last time I saw you!’
‘Oh, Ollie, you charming young man. Come here and give your ancient granny a kiss!’ she chuckled, pointing to her wrinkled cheek and puckering her bright red lips.
Having kissed his grandma, Ollie turned his attention to Lucy. ‘Sis!’ he teased, giving her a massive bear hug, ‘You don’t look too bad either!’
‘Thanks Ols,’ she said, shoving him in the ribs. ‘Have you ever heard of the saying “People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones”?!’
‘Oy! This is a carefully styled casual chic look, I’ll have you know,’ he said playfully, pouting and striking a pose.
‘I think you look very handsome,’ said Granny Annie, taking him by the arm and leading him into the kitchen.
Just at that moment Gus came in from the garden, wiping his feet on the doormat. He was blue from the cold, having been fixing the fence all morning; Tiggy had managed to find a new escape route.
‘Lucy darling, Annie… you’ve arrived in one piece!’ he said, kissing them both.
Lucy looked at her bespectacled, kind old father, covered in mud stains and shivering, and felt a rush of fondness. She went straight over to the Aga to put the kettle on, offering to make him a cup of tea to warm him up.
Ginny helped her fetch the teapot and cups, unveiling her speciality: a freshly baked chocolate cake covered in thick butter icing which she placed in the centre of the pine table, prompting a flurry of applause from Ollie, Annie, Lucy and Gus. They ate the cake, as light and fluffy as air, the icing gooey and sticky on their fingers, and sipped cups of steaming tea. It felt so good to be home again.
Lucy grilled Ollie about Sofia, and wanted to hear all about the job he had found himself in Buenos Aires, working in a wine bar. She thought about planning a trip to go and see him there, after all it was about time she went to visit him again. She had had a wonderful time in Thailand the last time they had met up on their travels. Though it might depend on whether her second cycle of treatment had worked, of course. She only had another few days left to wait until she would find out. She felt nervous butterflies flutter in her gut at the thought and sent up another silent prayer.
After tea, Ollie and Lucy pulled on their winter wetsuits and walked down to the beach with their trusty old bodyboards under their arms.
‘So, sis, how’s the baby plan working out for you?’ asked Ollie.
‘It’s still in motion,’ said Lucy. ‘Though my plans are currently shelved until the new year.’ She didn’t want him to know that she would be doing a test any day now. It was easier to keep it to herself.
‘Sensible,’ said Ollie. ‘Who wants a booze-free Christmas?’
‘My sentiments exactly!’ laughed Lucy. ‘I told Granny on the train.’
‘Woah… how did that go down?’ asked Ollie, looking at his sister with raised eyebrows.
‘Let’s just say the conversation is closed. I think it’s probably best if we don’t talk about it again.’
‘She didn’t agree with your decision?’
‘No. She can’t get past the idea that a baby needs a father.’
‘I kind of thought that’s how she’d react.’
‘You can’t really blame her, I suppose,’ said Lucy.
‘No… it’s a different world for her these days. Too much change,’ mused Ollie.
‘I wish I had her support though, I’m sure as hell going to need it.’
‘You will. If it happens, she’ll come around. She loves you, Luce, we all do. We’ll be there for you. You’ll see.’
‘Thanks Ol. It’s good to have you home,’ said Lucy, throwing her wetsuited arm around her brother’s shoulders as he ruffled her hair.
The clouds parted slightly as they reached the sand. The distant sea looked like pale sheets of beaten silver, shimmering in the beams of light that sliced down through the sky. Seagulls darted around, skimming through the spray as it rose off the white horses that pranced and galloped in the surf. Lucy and Ollie waded in through the foam, shrieking as the ice-cold water turned their feet instantly numb. They were taken straight back to their childhood as they lay on their polystyrene boards, pushing off just as the waves broke behind them and hurtling through the sea, revelling in the full force of nature. Laughing uncontrollably, they zoomed through the surf, full of adrenalin. Their hair was plastered to their faces; salty spray blew into their eyes.
After about forty minutes, teeth chattering and blue from the cold, they dragged their boards back up to the house, arriving at the kitchen door dripping watery puddles everywhere, looking like two drowned rats. It was the ideal start to her Christmas.
Over the next few days Annie and Lucy helped Ginny to prepare the house for Christmas with trips to the local Morrisons, last-minute shopping and putting up lots of decorations around the house. They hung the baubles and fairy lights on the huge Christmas tree that Ollie and Gus had carried in and propped up, somewhat precariously, in a bucket of sand. This year it was their turn to host the annual Christmas Eve party that had been going on for years with a group of local families. Lucy took charge of the menu and the necessary shopping for the canapés. She would make them on Thursday with the rest of the family all taking up posts around the kitchen table with carefully allocated jobs to carry out: chopping, slicing, stuffing and artfully arranging.
Lucy bought a couple of packets of pregnancy tests with her shopping, deciding that she would do her test the next morning, on Christmas Eve, two weeks after her second round of insemination. She had fobbed her parents off in the same way she had done to Ollie by saying that she wasn’t going to have her second round until the New Year. She didn’t want them to know if the news was not good, believing that any fussing over her would make her feel worse, not to mention put a dampener on Christmas. This time, she was keeping it to herself. Besides, if she did turn out to be pregnant, it would be a wonderful surprise for them all, the perfect Christmas present.
The next morning, creeping out of bed and into her en-suite bathroom, she unwrapped the little Clear Blue box with trembling hands. Her plan this time was to do the test as quickly as possible, not thinking about the consequences, a bit like ripping off a plaster. Without hesitation, she peed on the stick and looked at the clock to check the time, brushing her teeth and washing her face as a distraction. As soon as three minutes passed, she picked up the stick, her heart thudding in her ears. She peered down at the little diamond box, the controller was showing her that the results were in… With baited breath she moved her hand to reveal the little circular window that would tell her her fate. A single line ran through the centre. She was not pregnant. It had failed again. Disappointment coursed through her veins once more. She fell heavily to the floor and gave herself a few minutes to absorb the news. The realization that her hopes were, once again, dashed into smithereens felt like a crushing weight on top of her. The desire to become pregnant had become an obsession. It filled most of her waking minutes. She had never known that you could want something so desperately… something that in moments like this felt so impossible, so completely unachievable. She lay on the cool tiles, focussing on her breathing, in and out, in and out, her eyes smarting with tears, her body heavy with the dead weight of disappointment. She knew that her only option was to keep looking forwards; she would have to move on but it was so hard to put herself through this emotional roller coaster every time.
She knew that there was one person who would understand how she felt more than anyone.
‘Hello?’ said Nicola as she answered the phone. ‘Lucy, are you okay?’
‘Hi Nicola, yes I’m fine thanks. Sorry for the early phone call.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve been up for hours thanks to Maisy!’
‘I just did the test,’ explained Lucy. ‘I’m not pregnant.’
‘Oh Lucy, I’m so sorry,’ said Nicola. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Not great,’ said Lucy, her voice wobbling.
‘It’s so hard,’ Nicola sympathized. ‘You just have to try and stay strong.’
‘I know…’
‘I remember feeling so depressed every time it didn’t work, but you just have to pick yourself up and carry on. Remember it took me four times to fall pregnant with Maisy, but it did happen in the end.’
‘I just feel like I’ve failed,’ said Lucy.
‘You haven’t failed. It’s just probability and chance, and nothing anyone can do can change that.’
‘You’re right,’ said Lucy. She told herself that all was not lost; she had known that it would take time. She could and would cope with the disappointment. All she could do was begin to prepare herself for the build-up to round three, there was no way she was giving up now.
Lucy decided to go for a run, the best possible tonic for depressing news. Before setting off she messaged Claudia and Tor, letting them know the news and reassuring them that she was okay, that she was trying to stay positive. They replied with messages of encouragement, telling her to stay strong, and promising to call her later. Her friends really were an invaluable support network, and once again she counted her blessings, so thankful for everything that she did have in her life. As she ran, the pale mist of early morning hovered above the sea. A flight of birds migrating home flew over her head in a perfect V and Lucy marvelled at their uniform formation. Nature really was a miraculous force, so mysterious and yet somehow managing to work symbiotically, everything in delicate balance, in perfect harmony. She pounded the pathways, Kate Bush singing ‘Wuthering Heights’ in her ears, and let the beauty of the views uplift her spirits and revitalize her. Returning home, she felt renewed with energy and ready for anything.
As she looked through the windows into the cosy warmth of the kitchen, she saw Ollie standing at the sink, downing a pint of orange squash, still wearing his pyjamas. Annie would be eating her breakfast in bed by now, brought to her on a tray by Ginny each morning, and would eventually make her way downstairs by about eleven o’clock. Ginny and Gus were sitting at the breakfast table eating toast and marmalade, reading the morning papers while the television flickered in the background.
‘Hi darling,’ Ginny said as she opened the door. ‘Good run?’
‘Lovely thanks, it’s cold out but there’s a beautiful mist over the sea that’s really stunning,’ Lucy said.
‘Oh great, I’ll take Tiggy down there after breakfast!’ said Ginny.
Gus asked, ‘Do you want a cup of coffee? I’m going to make another one.’
Lucy shook her head saying that she would shower first and then come and eat something. She climbed the creaking stairs to the attic, stripping off her clothes and throwing them into the laundry basket before stepping under the power shower in her bathroom, letting the hot water stream over her and wash away her disappointment, preparing herself for the day ahead.
Later on that day she instructed her family members on their roles for the canapé manufacturing chain she had set up around the kitchen table. They spent a happy couple of hours at work, chatting as they went. By the time they had finished, the pine table was covered in plates and dishes of various shapes and sizes. Each one had an appetizing selection of canapés arranged across its surface: smoked salmon on brown bread covered with curls of lemon zest and black pepper, cherry tomatoes stuffed with blue cheese, prawns on mini pastry puffs, cheese twists, blinis with cream cheese and caviar, and honey and mustard sausages. She surveyed the spread with satisfaction as Gus stocked the fridge with champagne and Ollie lit the fires to warm the house up.
As their guests arrived, the house was warm and cosy, the decorations radiated festive cheer and Christmas carols filled the air. The festive spirit cheered Lucy up enormously. She loved catching up with old family friends at this time of year, it was a lovely tradition that she hoped would last long into the future, with the new generations that were hopefully to come. Granny Annie charmed the socks off everyone in her sweet little dress and matching turquoise jewellery, she was always everybody’s favourite guest and she loved regaling the young with stories of her misspent youth. Gus and Ollie made sure that no one’s glass was ever empty and Lucy and Ginny handed around the plates of canapés, which everyone said were the best they had had in years.
After everyone had left, the five of them sat down for dinner, their annual Christmas Eve feast of baked ham, Cumberland sauce, cauliflower cheese and jacket potatoes. They played a game of charades; Gus had everyone in stitches as he tried to act out Pretty Woman. Afterwards the four of them flopped on the sofa to watch a bit of Michael McIntyre’s Christmas special. Granny Annie had already gone to bed, exhausted after such a busy day. Lucy and Ollie stayed up till midnight in honour of the tradition they had started as children, much to Ginny and Gus’s annoyance as they had waited for them to finally go to sleep so that Santa Clause could come undetected.
The rest of Christmas passed in a blur of food, champagne, carols, church and frosty walks, before Lucy set off once more for London. She had been touched to receive an envelope from her parents which contained a cheque to put towards her treatment. She realized that this was a sign of them giving her their blessing and was very grateful; every penny counted as the process certainly wasn’t cheap. She only had enough money for one more round so this would enable her to continue with a fourth cycle if she needed it. Finding a moment alone with her parents, she had thanked them for their present.
‘I hope you know how much it means to me that you are supporting my decision,’ said Lucy.
‘We know, darling,’ said Gus.
‘If you’re really sure it’s what you want…’ added Ginny, still not entirely convinced by the whole thing.
‘It is. Has Granny told you that I’ve spoken to her about it?’ asked Lucy.
‘No!’ exclaimed Ginny. ‘I had no idea… good heavens!’
‘What did she say?’ asked Gus.
‘I told her on the train. I didn’t know whether she would talk to you about it, she’s so old-fashioned about these things. I think she has chosen to simply forget I ever mentioned it.’
‘So she was against the idea?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Oh darling, I’m sorry, but I’m not surprised. I must be honest… I still find the idea hard to get my head around, and she is my mother!’ said Ginny. ‘These things just wouldn’t have been acceptable in her day.’
‘I know, I know…’said Lucy. ‘It’s just that her opinion means the world to me, so it’s hard for me to know I’m going against her wishes.’
‘Darling, it’s your life,’ said Gus. ‘You have to do what feels right for you.’
‘You’re right, Dad,’ said Lucy, giving her parents a big hug and thanking them once again for their support and generosity.
Annie was staying in Cornwall for a few more days to spend New Year’s Eve with Gus and Ginny after Lucy left, while Ollie was going to a friend’s house party in Gloucestershire. Lucy spent New Year’s Eve as planned with Tor, Will and Otto. They had a very pleasant and relaxing evening, and as she had promised herself, she woke up on January the first feeling as fresh as a daisy, full of excitement about the New Year ahead. She began to count down the days from day one of her cycle, ready to telephone the clinic to let them know when she needed to be booked in for round three of her treatment.
In mid-January she went back to the clinic, now a familiar journey for her, and sat once again in the clean, white waiting room, flicking through a magazine and waiting for her name to be called. The fertility specialist came to collect her and led her up the spiral staircase to one of the treatment rooms. She lay on the bed, her legs in the stirrups, and tried to relax, unclenching her muscles and visualizing the fertilization process, willing it to succeed.
Lucy sat in the chair for ten minutes after the insemination was over and done with, praying for the miracle that she so desperately wanted. She then got dressed, flung her handbag over her shoulder, and set off to catch the bus towards home.
She decided to keep to her tradition and stop off at Holland Park for a chai latte and a wonder around the gardens on her way home. She pulled down the sleeves of her green cashmere jumper underneath her trusty duffle coat, a pair of black skinny jeans tucked into leather boots. The air was bright but icy and she wriggled her toes to stop them feeling numb, they already felt blue with cold despite the angora socks that she was wearing. She was feeling the beginnings of a winter cold and knew that catching a chill wouldn’t help her chances of conceiving.
As she arrived at the café, she pulled open the door, enjoying the warm air from inside as it made contact with her chilly cheeks. She approached the counter, taking her place in the queue and eyeing up the pastries and cakes behind the glass, wondering whether she should treat herself. Suddenly she felt herself sneeze, she reached into her pocket to try and find a tissue.
The man in front of her in the queue turned his head slightly to say ‘Bless you.’ As he did so, a flicker of recognition passed over his face, and he said, ‘Oh hello! It’s Lucy… isn’t it?’
Lucy remembered their last meeting as clear as day and was mesmerized for a second by his piercing blue eyes. Realizing she hadn’t answered him but had instead been staring at him rather obviously, she quickly stammered, ‘Rory… Hi! How are you? And where’s your lovely dog?’ she asked.
‘Well, I’m not sure that he deserves to be called lovely, but he’s tied up outside. I won’t be letting him inside here again in a hurry, don’t you worry!’ said Rory with a smile. ‘I still feel terrible about him spilling your drink that time. Please, allow me to buy you a coffee today, I’d like to make up for it.’
‘You really don’t have to do that!’ Lucy said, touched by his thoughtfulness.
‘I insist!’ said Rory. ‘What’ll it be?’
‘A chai latte please. It’s very kind of you!’
‘A chai latte?! What on earth’s that when it’s at home?’ he asked.
‘It’s a sort of spiced milk, it’s delicious! You should try it!’ Lucy laughed.
‘Nah, I’ll be sticking to my coffee till the day I die,’ said Rory, ‘I’m a creature of habit, I’m afraid!’
Rory ordered their drinks, looking to Lucy to confirm her choice, and then paid for them. He bought her a little bag of wafers tied with a ribbon in a clear plastic bag as an extra treat. Lucy popped the biscuits into her coat pocket, thanking him for his generosity. They made polite conversation as they collected their drinks in takeaway cups.
As they made their way out of the café, Rory held the door open for Lucy. She stepped out into the cold, noticing Rufus waiting patiently. He was tied up to a metal hook on the wall, and Lucy went over to him to stroke his long, brown nose, running her fingers down the soft hair on his neck.
‘Hello Rufus!’ she said. He wagged his tail and tried to lick her fingers as she stroked him, nuzzling her with his nose, his almond eyes twinkling mischievously. Carefully holding her drink aloft, she stood up, saying, ‘He’s such a gorgeous dog!’
Clearly disappointed not to have her attention anymore, Rufus emitted a high-pitched whine, looking pleadingly at his owner.
‘All right, all right! We’re going for a walk now, Rufus, don’t you worry, old boy!’
Rufus began to wag his tail frantically at the mention of the word walk. Rory bent down to let him off his lead and he immediately darted off towards the orangery, relishing his new-found freedom.
‘Lucky Rufus! I love walking around Holland Park,’ said Lucy. ‘I come here most weekends and I never seem to get bored of the gardens. I love watching them change as the seasons come and go.’
‘Well, you’re welcome to join us,’ said Rory. ‘I’m a big fan too; the gardens are so well designed. I particularly love the Kyoto garden, it’s so calm, though I certainly don’t take Rufus in there, he would ruin everyone’s peace and quiet!’ he laughed.
Lucy and Rory fell into stride with each other, wandering away from the orangery and along the winding path that cut through the Dutch gardens. Lucy sipped the delicious chai as she walked, she could feel it warm her from the inside out.
‘The gardens are beautiful,’ agreed Lucy, ‘but I think I almost prefer the wild parts of the park.’ They walked past a water feature trickling peacefully into its pool. ‘It’s amazing to think that a couple of hundred years ago all of this land was rural. It’s hard to imagine now but in the woodlands you can almost catch a glimpse of how it would have looked in the past!’
‘I once entered a competition calling on architects to submit plans for a giant tree house for children to play in. It was going to be constructed in the wild woodland here,’ said Rory gesturing to his left. ‘I don’t know what happened to the idea in the end; I think it must have been pulled by the council.’
‘Oh, what a shame! That would have been amazing! Are you an architect?’ asked Lucy.
‘I am indeed. I wanted to follow in the footsteps of my mad great-uncle, Seamus. He built the most incredible tree house for me and my brothers and sister to play in. It was deep within the woods that surround our house in Ireland,’ explained Rory. ‘Though had I realized architecture would take seven years of training I might have reconsidered my childhood ambition!’
‘Seven years, wow! I thought a three-year degree course was long enough!’ agreed Lucy sympathetically.
They paused along with another group of onlookers to watch a peacock as it shimmied its magnificent, iridescent feathers. The vibrations made a strange, low thrumming; a mating call. Rory summoned Rufus to his side so as not to pester the bird and he sat obediently at their feet, looking quizzically at the peacock’s bizarre ritual.
‘Tell me about the tree house,’ said Lucy, as they walked away from the crowds amassing around the exotic creature. ‘I always longed to have one as a child. It seemed like the coolest thing!’
‘Ah, the tree house… now it truly was a work of art, a labour of love some might say. The minute Uncle Seamus finished it, me and my brothers and sister spent every waking minute of our childhood there. My mother must have loved him for the peace and quiet she got!’ he said, smiling at the memories.
‘I’ll bet!’ Lucy agreed.
‘It was like a castle for us, the sort of thing you might see in a Disney film. He built it across several trees, with platforms, ropes, rooms and real, working lights. But the best thing by far was this high-sided tray that was on a sort of pulley system, it could be raised and lowered from the ground underneath up into the tree house itself. Mum would bring us jugs of fresh lemonade and biscuits and put them on the tray, and we would haul them up for our tea.’
‘Oh my goodness that sounds like every child’s dream! Is it still there?’ asked Lucy, intrigued.
‘Yes! Overrun by my nephews and nieces mostly nowadays!’ laughed Rory.
‘And Uncle Seamus?’
‘Oh, he’s still around too, at the grand old age of ninety-two; he’s still more with it than most! He’s quite a character,’ said Rory. ‘He certainly enjoys a drink or two, and he still fishes and plays golf every week. You’re most likely to find him down the local pub, singing some old Irish tunes to entertain the tourists!’ he chuckled. ‘He loves to be the centre of attention.’
‘I’ve got a grandmother who sounds just like him,’ laughed Lucy. ‘Granny Annie, rarely to be seen without a glass of wine or a G&T! They would be a match made in heaven!’
‘We should introduce them,’ agreed Rory, before dashing over to stop Rufus who was getting suspiciously close to a toddler sitting on a rug, munching a soggy Rusk biscuit.
Rory and Lucy carried on walking and chatting for a long while, looping all the way around the park and then back again. They swapped stories about Granny Annie and Uncle Seamus, laughing at their similarities in eccentricity. As they drew near the turning to Rory’s house, which he explained was only a few roads away from Holland Park, he stooped down to attach Rufus’s lead. As he stood up, he said, ‘It’s been really great talking to you,’ looking directly at her with those piercing blue eyes, and Lucy really believed that he meant it. She felt the same. It was so easy chatting to him, he was mesmerizing company. He was witty and amusing, but not at all over the top; just so laid-back and down-to-earth. What is more they just seemed to get on so well. She realised to her surprise that she hadn’t even thought about that morning’s treatment the entire time that they had been talking. Lucy found that she was reluctant to leave him, and she hovered for a moment or two longer than was necessary, holding his gaze.
‘It has been really great,’ she agreed smiling up at him, her blue eyes shining.
Rory cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot a little awkwardly. ‘Look, this might sound a bit strange, but do you fancy walking together again sometime, maybe?’ he asked, a sheepish grin on his face, his eyes downturned slightly towards the ground.
‘I’d love to!’ said Lucy, feeling herself flush at the very thought of him wanting to see her again. Hiding her blushes, she bent down to say goodbye to Rufus, whose tail was wagging at a rate of knots.
‘Same time, same place next weekend?’ he asked.
‘Sure!’ she said, and then she took a step towards him to kiss him on the cheek, amazed at her own bravery. His stubble grazed against her skin, sending a thrill of micro shivers down her spine. She caught the scent of his aftershave, such a delicious, musky smell, it drew her towards him and she had to force herself to tear away. They grinned inanely at each other, saying ‘Bye!’ neither one quite ready to leave the other.
In the end, it was Lucy who turned first and began to walk off towards home. After several metres, she spun around to give Rory a cheery wave and was thrilled to see he was still standing there, so handsome, with Rufus by his side, watching her walk away. He gave her a wave back, and she continued on her way, a smile spreading across her cheeks that lasted all the way home. She had never felt so at ease in a stranger’s presence. She felt as though they had known each other for years. There was just something about him that made her feel completely relaxed in his company. She found him completely intriguing.
As soon as she got through the door, Lucy rushed over to the mirror above the mantelpiece, checking her appearance. She was suddenly paranoid that she might have had smudged make-up or a bright red nose from the chilly weather. She told herself off for being so silly; after all, she was supposed to be off men for good, wasn’t she? Even so, she was happy to see that she looked all right, her blonde fringe fell prettily over her eyes, her freckles had faded somewhat since they had last seen the sun but there was a healthy, rosy glow to her cheeks and her eyes shone brightly.
She may not look too frozen, but in reality she felt like her internal organs had become blocks of ice. On a cold winter’s day there was nothing she liked more than to have a warming bath before settling in for the evening. She turned on the hot tap and soon the room began to fill with clouds of steam as the water ran into the enamel tub. Lucy lit an aromatherapy candle and added a few drops of lavender oil into the water. She lowered herself into the bath and the intoxicating fragrance washed over her, relaxing her tense muscles. As she lathered soap over her body, she allowed her mind to wander back to Rory and she found herself once again blushing at the very thought of him. She had never met a man with such rugged sex appeal; her imagination ran away with her and she found herself picturing his stubble grazing her chin as he kissed her, her hands running down the lithe muscles on his back. The sensible part of her brain tried to stop her, but she was unable to resist.