Tasha’s birthday fell on the thirteenth of January: a date no one would willingly choose. Everyone was always so bloated from their overindulgence, still coming down from the high of Christmas that they were never in the mood to celebrate. She never particularly looked forward to it.
The doorbell chimed at ten o’clock in the morning, just as Tasha was standing on a kitchen chair, straining to reach one of the overhead spotlights to change a bulb. Charlie still hadn’t mastered the necessary technique, though Tasha was determined to teach him and add the task to his list of responsibilities. As part of their ongoing discussions they had agreed to redistribute household chores more fairly going forward.
Charlie answered the door. To Tasha’s amazement, Lizzie and Bertie bustled into the house, having left the dogs at home with Ella.
‘Surprise!’ they cried as they hugged Tasha, Charlie and the children. ‘Happy birthday, darling!’ they said, handing her a present wrapped in floral paper.
‘Mum! Dad! What are you doing here?’ Tasha asked.
‘Lizzie and Bertie have kindly agreed to babysit!’ Charlie explained. ‘We’re going away for the night. I’ve already packed your bag!’ He looked extremely pleased with himself.
‘Away?’ Tasha asked. ‘Oh, my goodness! Where are we going?’ She couldn’t remember the last time Charlie had planned a surprise weekend.
‘You’ll have to wait and see.’
‘Have a wonderful time with Granny and Grandpa,’ Charlie said to the children a short while later, having run through exactly what was required of Tasha’s parents over the next twenty-four hours. ‘And be good. Mummy and Daddy are going somewhere special for Mummy’s birthday. And I’m afraid children aren’t allowed.’
‘Unfair!’ they cried as Tasha and Charlie kissed them goodbye and made a run for the door.
It seemed that they were heading directly for Becca’s house. No matter how many questions Tasha asked, Charlie remained resolutely tight-lipped. Soon they pulled up outside a Tudor house with a cockerel-shaped topiary hedge, Hazeldown: the house they had stopped to look at all those months ago. ‘What do you reckon? Do you still fancy a look around?’ Charlie asked.
‘Can we? Is it actually on the market?’
‘It certainly is! And I’ve arranged a viewing with Peter Cunliffe.’
‘I can’t believe it!’ Tasha gasped, getting out of the car. ‘It’s so beautiful.’ She looked at the whitewashed walls, the Tudor beams, the thatched roof. It really was the most charming house. And the setting was idyllic, surrounded by rolling hills and farmland.
An hour or so later, both Charlie and Tasha were completely in love with the place. Peter had given them a comprehensive tour of the property and grounds. Sweeping lawns were edged by beautifully-kept borders. There was an enormous farmhouse-style kitchen with an island and a huge green Aga, three big bathrooms, five double bedrooms, a dining room, sitting room, drawing room and a gorgeous conservatory stretching out onto the garden. It would need a bit of work, and more than a lick of paint, but its potential was undeniable. As they left Charlie promised Peter that he would be in touch very soon. Tasha and Charlie talked and talked about the serious possibility of a move for the remainder of their journey towards their second secret destination of the day.
An hour or so later Charlie parked outside a boutique country spa hotel. ‘Here we are!’ he announced as he switched off the engine. ‘Our home for the night.’
Tasha squealed with excitement, jumping out of the passenger seat and flinging her arms around Charlie.
‘It’s got an award-winning spa. And we’ve got a dinner reservation in the restaurant this evening.’
They went into the hotel and checked in, looking around and admiring all the cosy seating areas complete with roaring fires, the twenties-style bar lined with bottles of different-coloured glass and the beautiful artwork that hung on the walls. Having dumped their bags in their suite, they went straight to the spa for a Jacuzzi and swim before returning to their room, where a bottle of champagne was waiting on ice.
‘Happy birthday!’ Charlie said as he poured her a glass. They toasted her birthday, soon falling asleep side by side in a champagne haze, luxuriating in the peace and quiet of being child-free. A while later Charlie woke her with a kiss, untying her white towelling robe and making love to her, taking advantage of their time together with no children to interrupt them.
That evening, after drinks in the bar, they ate a delicious meal in the hotel restaurant. The more they talked, the more time they spent together, the more Tasha felt they were reconnecting as a couple, repairing the damage they had caused one another stitch by stitch. As they lay in bed that night, Charlie produced a tiny velvet box from his bag. ‘Happy birthday,’ he said.
‘Charlie!’ she cried, opening the box to reveal a set of diamond earrings, each drop cut into the shape of a heart. ‘They are absolutely beautiful! Thank you,’ she said as she pulled him close and kissed him.
‘I love you,’ Charlie said, kissing her back.
‘I love you too.’
In that moment, she felt the happiest she had ever felt, knowing just how far they had come and how much more of their journey together there was still to unfold. The future seemed full of new and exciting challenges, full of hope and possibility.