Jonas sank onto the edge of the enormous bed and gazed around him. He couldn’t get over his luxurious surroundings. Frankie actually lived here, but to him it resembled a fancy hotel or a house out of one of those period dramas that his mother liked to watch. Frankie’s home was huge and they even had a housekeeper, and a gardener judging by the garden he had seen from his window, and no doubt an army of cleaners. He’d gathered that Frankie came from money from things Freya had told him, but he hadn’t imagined it would be to this extent.
His room was decked out in red, gold and cream. The plush vermilion carpet was so thick that his soles sank into it every time he stood up. He’d felt terrible wearing his boots when he’d entered the room, and had removed them as soon as possible and put them on top of his suitcase for fear that they would taint the flawless expanse.
The king-size four-poster bed resembled one that he’d expect a royal to sleep in, with its rich mahogany frame and cream and gold bedspread. It even had a bolster pillow, and a wooden chest at its foot that featured carved animals and trees in some sort of Elizabethan scene. He had no doubt that it was an antique. The sash windows were framed by heavy gold and red curtains currently held back with golden-fringed ropes, and there wasn’t a fingerprint to be seen on the glass.
The furniture was just as grandiose. There were two mahogany wardrobes, a heavy-set chest of drawers and a dressing table, all so shiny that he could see his reflection in them. The aroma of beeswax polish hung in the air, a sign that the room had likely been dusted just that morning.
There was even an en suite bathroom with a deep roll-top tub, a double shower and a bundle of Egyptian cotton towels that looked brand new.
Did Frankie actually live like this? It took his breath away. It also made him feel like a fish out of water. Jonas wasn’t used to this level of opulence and he couldn’t imagine living like this. Frankie came from this world and would no doubt be accustomed to all its trappings. If there had been any doubt in his mind about the possibility of dating someone like her, then it now disappeared altogether. Jonas lived for the outdoors, for the fresh air in his lungs and the open skies. He could never live like this; he wouldn’t want to. He was used to a different lifestyle, one where he slept on sofas, bunk beds and in tents. As he’d travelled around, he’d been happy just to have a roof over his head some nights, on the nights that were especially cold. His mother’s apartment in Oslo was modest and although comfortable, it could never be described as luxurious, yet it was perfect in his eyes. He was proud of his mother and how hard she worked and of where he came from.
Freya had walked away from all this, and while Jonas could see that it might be nice to live in such luxury, it also unsettled him. He had never cared for material possessions, rarely thought beyond tomorrow, and valued things like friendship and nature’s beauty far more than towel thread count and lavish surroundings.
It was clearer than ever that Frankie came from a very different world.
But was it a world that Freya would ever dream of returning to?
Was it a world where Freya could ever fit in?
It certainly wasn’t the type of world Jonas had associated her with; she was as free a spirit as he was. But her move away from this lifestyle had been forced. He couldn’t imagine Frankie leaving it as her mother had done.
He checked his mobile and realized he’d been sitting there musing about true wealth for twenty minutes, and it was time to shower and change then head downstairs to see what the afternoon had in store for them all.
‘Annie’s prepared us a light lunch in the dining room.’ Hugo gestured towards the doorway. ‘I’m sorry though, I forgot to check if anyone had any allergies.’
Jonas and Freya shook their heads.
‘That’s a relief.’ Hugo smiled. ‘I know you never used to, Freya, but things change.’
‘Luckily I haven’t developed any.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’
In the dining room, Hugo sat at the end of the long table and Freya took the seat to his right, as if it was something they did every day. Seeing her parents together fascinated Frankie. It was clear that they’d once been close, as they seemed to anticipate what the other would do, yet they also had an awkwardness about them that told of years apart.
Frankie sat next to her mother and Jonas stood next to her, not quite sure what to do.
‘Take that seat next to my father,’ she told him. ‘See… Annie has set a place there.’
Jonas nodded then went and sat down.
‘Help yourselves to whatever takes your fancy.’ Hugo gestured at the platters of cold meat, cheese, salad and pasta. ‘There’s plenty more in the kitchen should you want it and if you want something that’s not there, let me know and I’ll go and get it.’
While they filled their plates, Hugo poured wine from the bottle in the cooler next to him then they tucked in. The wind howled around outside, skittering brittle leaves across the patio slabs, and through the glass, the sky was an ominous shade of grey. It was an English winter and as cold and grim as every one that Frankie could remember. And yet… it was different. She’d eaten so many meals in this room, gazed out at the changing landscape through the cycle of the seasons and dreamt of how different things could be. Today they were different, very different indeed. Instead of Frankie and Grandma flanking her father at the table, he had Freya and Jonas, and instead of Frankie imagining how it would be to have her mother here, she actually was.
Hugo was a good host; years of practice had perfected his skills at small talk and filling silences. He asked Freya about her business and her life in Oslo, yet avoided referring to the past or any topic that could make things uncomfortable. He asked Jonas about his photography and his family, enabling Frankie to find out things about the handsome Norwegian that she hadn’t heard so far. Then he added in his own details, making them laugh with tales from the golf course and the boardroom. It opened Frankie’s eyes to who her father really was. She’d always known him as Dad, businessman and golfer, subordinate to Grandma but with a warm heart and perfect manners. Yet here he was, a practised conversationalist, a generous and attentive host, funny and bright, calm and confident.
Was this what happened to her father when Grandma wasn’t around but Freya was? Did Hugo Ashford blossom in the presence of her mother? Did he become a better version of himself?
It was as though her father had been set free by Grandma’s absence and Frankie’s heart filled with love for him. Then it fluttered with sadness. If her father had been this man consistently, if he had shown this side of himself to her mother and Grandma had not been around, then perhaps Freya would never have become ill and left, and life would have been so different for them all.
She raised her glass and cleared her throat.
‘I’d like to make a toast. To good company and to family.’
They clinked glasses and Freya smiled at her, understanding deep in her eyes. It was as if they’d been given a fresh start, a brand-new opportunity, and Frankie hoped that it was the beginning of something very special indeed.
After lunch, they made their way into the lounge to relax and have their coffee. Annie brought in a tray of chocolate cake, cherry pie, cheese, crackers and olives. Frankie watched as Jonas’s eyes widened and she wondered what he was thinking. Did he find her home pleasing or too lavish? Did he think she’d grown up spoilt or lucky? He’d been polite and amiable during lunch and smiled often, but she sensed that he was holding something back. She was so used to this lifestyle, to the variety of food on offer, to buying whatever she wanted and to living in such a pleasant location. She’d never had to worry about money, even if she’d worried about many other things, but she’d have traded it all in just to have her mother around. A lot of people she knew would struggle to understand that, some who didn’t live as she did would struggle to believe it. But for Frankie, as nice as wealth was, it didn’t make for happiness; it didn’t make up for not having a mother.
‘What are your plans for this afternoon?’ Hugo asked as he poured cream into his coffee.
‘Well, I thought perhaps I should go and see Grandma.’ Frankie tried to suppress her shiver of reluctance.
‘I wouldn’t, not today anyway. I’ll take you in the morning. She’ll be tired this afternoon and probably sleeping.’
‘OK, that makes sense.’ Relief loosened the tension in her shoulders that she hadn’t even noted until now.
‘I wondered if you’d like to take a walk with me, Freya.’ Hugo kept his eyes on his coffee and Frankie knew that he was nervous about asking.
‘That would be lovely.’
Hugo looked up. ‘Really?’
‘I’d love to see some of the old places… See how things have changed around here and what, if anything, has remained the same.’
‘Wonderful.’ Hugo’s smile was so broad that it reached his ears. Frankie had never seen him smile quite like that.
Freya smiled too.
‘How about you, Jonas?’ Frankie asked him, hoping he realized that her parents wanted some time alone.
‘I don’t mind. I could take a nap… or read a book.’
‘What about taking your camera out and getting some shots around here? There are plenty of interesting sights to capture,’ Frankie suggested.
‘That also sounds like a good plan.’
‘Great. Well, let’s have coffee then I’ll get my boots on and show you around my home city.’
Jonas nodded and Frankie felt that strange warmth flooding through her again, that only he seemed to cause. It was as though he had woken something inside her and it lifted her spirits and stirred excitement in her belly.
‘I can’t wait,’ he replied.
I can’t wait either.