Chapter Thirty-One

As she got out of her van, the air felt cold. Lisa preferred crisp autumn days, with blue skies providing the perfect backdrop to the changing leaves. They were the type that inspired woodland walks and wrapped-up outings. But this wasn’t one of them. The air was damp and the sun was nowhere to be seen, adding to how cold it felt. Winter was underway, but today she didn’t care. The thought of a walk in Houghton Forest with Jack, followed by a cup of tea with Winnie was enough to brighten any grey day.

Lisa reminded herself to let Winnie know she would be heading off to France soon. After sharing just a few too-casual-for-her-liking texts with Nathan, Lisa decided that letting herself go, living life again and having fun should not be dependent on others. If being back had taught her anything, it was that she used to be driven, she used to know what she wanted and she never used to let others dictate how she should live her life. Reconnecting with her past had reminded her of that.

Lisa knew the next step in that reconnection was to go and spend time with her parents. They had supported, even encouraged, her in her younger decisions, they had not tried to hold her back, and she had repaid that kindness with slipping further and further away from them. Now they were the ones building a new life and she had barely paid attention to it. Dismissing their life in France had become a habit and yet it accounted for over half of their year. And Lisa was sure it was only a matter of time before they made their move more permanent. She wanted to share her new-found realisations with Winnie. She hoped she might even inspire Winnie to keep at her effort to reconnect with her son, despite the fact he had ignored her heartfelt letter.

Knocking on the door, Lisa was surprised not to hear Jack’s welcoming bark. All was silent. She checked her phone, but there were no messages from Winnie. She wandered round the windows attempting to peer in, but Winnie’s net curtains weren’t giving anything away. Lisa went to her van and rummaged for her key in the glove box. Winnie had given it to her early on, in case she was ever out when Lisa arrived – not that Lisa had ever had call to use it until now. It felt strange letting herself into Winnie’s house. Of course, she did it all the time at other clients’ houses, the fact they were out was generally the reason they needed a pet sitter or their dog walked, but Winnie’s was different. Going to Winnie’s was more than a job.

As she stepped inside, the place felt strangely still without Winnie’s warm welcome and Jack bounding up to say hello. It felt colder than usual, like the heating hadn’t been on for a while. Lisa didn’t like it. She called, ‘Winnie,’ and then, ‘Jack,’ into the empty hallway, but there was no answer. She wondered if she should just leave a note, go and call Winnie later. Turning to look at Winnie’s telephone on the table below the coat hooks in the hall, Lisa saw an envelope with her name on it. She picked it up and opened it:

Lisa, my lovely, if you are reading this then I have gone. It’s been a long time coming. Please don’t be cross with me for not saying. I know I should have told you, especially after all we’ve shared, but I could barely take the news in myself. And you know I don’t like a fuss and nonsense, it just seemed easier to slip away—

‘Oh God!’ Lisa sobbed on a shaky breath. Tears welled in her eyes, preventing her from reading on. She couldn’t take it in, her heart was racing and everything around her seemed to be moving. She held the wall in an attempt to steady herself. Realising she needed to sit down Lisa moved down the hallway. She looked at the kitchen door, but couldn’t face going in. Not without Winnie – her biscuit barrel at the ready and her smile as warm as the teapot. Instead, Lisa made her way to the living room, the ice-cold chill of shock spreading through her.

Lisa pushed open the door and it dawned on her that she had never actually been in there before. The hallway and the kitchen had been the only places she had been in, and always in the presence of Winnie and Jack. It felt a little like intruding, but Lisa knew if she didn’t sit down she might fall. Her pulse was racing and she was shaking; she felt engulfed by an overwhelming sense of loss.

As she succumbed to the tears that wanted to flow, Lisa knew she couldn’t read on; even looking at the letter scrawled in Winnie’s cursive script made her want to cry harder. Through her tears, she attempted to take in her surroundings. Winnie’s home – empty and soulless without her and Jack to bring it to life. She touched the arm cover on the high-backed chair she sat on, imagining Winnie doing that hundreds, possibly thousands, of times before her.

The teak coffee table had a well-thumbed copy of the Parish News magazine on top. The gas fire looked functional, as opposed to inviting, but the patterned rug at the hearth looked well worn. Lisa imagined Jack curling up there. Oh Jack. She wondered where he was and who had him now. A flashback to him lying on Stan’s grave caused her lip to tremble. What will he do without Winnie too? Lisa stood up, unable to sit still any longer.

She knew she ought to go. There was no reason to stay. Winnie was gone and Jack, well, she didn’t know where Jack was, but later, when she could bring herself to read Winnie’s letter, she was sure she would discover that he was being well looked after. She stood and attempted to fluff up the cushion, long since devoid of stuffing, that she had sat on.

About to leave the room, Lisa noticed a picture of Winnie and Stan on their wedding day hanging on the wall. Both looked young and vital. Winnie’s figure was shown off to perfection by her no fuss, no frills, empire-line dress. She looked a woman in her prime. While Stan looked every bit the young gentleman in his dapper suit – pride beaming from his face. Reunited at last, Lisa thought, attempting to find some comfort in Winnie’s loss. She moved along the mantelpiece, and a picture of a young man at the far end made her do a double take. He looked familiar. She lifted it for a better look. Presumably it was Winnie’s son, he looked a little like Stan, but there was something more, around the eyes maybe.

Taking a final glance around in readiness to leave, Lisa was struck by how much the living room reminded her of her Granny Blake’s. The furnishings made it look like a home frozen in time. Lisa brushed her hand over the patterned upholstery of the chair she had sat on. She thought about Winnie buying that chair. Was it with Stan? Had they known that furniture shop would be their last? Lisa wondered if there was a time in their lives when people thought that the choices they made would be the ones that would see them through to the end; choose wisely this will be with you until the day you die! Lisa shook her head, upset at the thought.

Preparing herself to go, Lisa jumped at the sound of the back door opening. Her heart in her throat, she edged to the living room door attempting to see who was there. Fear spread through her on two counts: firstly, she didn’t want anyone to think she was snooping round Winnie’s house with her gone; and, secondly, she feared that it could be someone breaking in. After all, whoever was coming in that way must have bypassed the option of the front door. Winnie’s house backed on to fields.

Through the slit in the door she could see the back of a tall man, dressed in black, riffling through the largest kitchen cupboard. Oh hell! Panicking, Lisa wondered what to do. If only Jack were there he would see the intruder off. She thought about calling the police, but if she spoke she was sure to be heard – and then what? Alerting the intruder to her presence would make her lose her advantage. Her mind racing Lisa looked around for a heavy object. She had no intention of using it as a weapon, but hoped she might be able to startle the intruder if she ran at him looking like she might. Spotting a large book on the lower shelf of the coffee table she decided that would have to do. Sure that the sound of her own heart was going to give her away, she crept back to the crack in the door, weapon of choice held aloft. The man had moved. She couldn’t see him. Lowering the book Lisa squinted and attempted to change her angle.

‘Rose!’

Hearing a voice behind her, Lisa swung round, swiping out with the book as she went. The thud of the contact she made jolted down her arms. She watched in horror as Dom – Dom from the forest, Dom the paramedic, Dom who clearly did belong on Crimewatch after all – toppled sideways.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Lisa screeched as the thought that he had followed her hit home.

With the sound of Lisa’s voice ringing out, Jack burst through the back door and bounded towards her. He was caked in mud and leaving dirty paw prints all over the floor, Lisa’s jeans and top. Lisa tried to take it in while Jack’s long wet tongue slobbered her face. Tears sprang to her eyes as she found herself hugely relieved to see him. The momentary distraction diverted her attention and Dom staggered back to his feet. Jack instantly turned his attention to him. But instead of the barking and growling Lisa had hoped for, he gave him the same warm greeting of muddy feet and slobbery kisses he had given her. He certainly was not reacting as if Dom was a trespasser on his territory. While the scene reminded Lisa that Jack had met Dom before, she doubted that his over familiarity was the cause of one meeting and a shared bacon butty.

‘What the hell is going on here?’ she managed.

Dom smiled. ‘I’m sorry, I should have told you when I first met you, or when I met you the second time or the third … but—’

‘What?’ Lisa recoiled at the mention of their third meeting; shoulder-blade-gate was something she would rather forget.

‘I’m Dom—’

‘I know that.’

‘Dom Adams.’

Lisa stared, no flicker of recognition.

‘Winnie’s grandson,’ Dom clarified.

‘What?’ Lisa couldn’t take it in. Winnie’s grandson? Her little … little … what’s his name? Winnie’s grandson isn’t Dom … he’s … he’s … ‘Nicky!’

‘That’s me,’ Dom said, rubbing the side of his head.

‘But you’re Dom.’

‘Dom-i-nic. Nicky to my gran only – who gets away with it because she wanted me named after Granddad.’

‘Stan?’

‘Stanley Nicholas Adams – Gran usually finds a way of getting what she wants.’

Lisa remembered her trip to the cemetery, Stan’s full name etched in the white marble and the blank page left for Winnie. She gasped against the tightness in her chest. With the shock of the loss of Winnie, Jack still jumping around between them and the dawning realisation that she had just hit Dom – Dom who was Winnie’s grandson, no less – around the head with a book, Lisa staggered.

Dom caught her. ‘Maybe we should both sit down before we fall down,’ he said, putting his arm round Lisa’s back.

Lisa felt too dumbfounded to resist as they made their way to the kitchen. As she sat at the table watching Dom put the kettle on, she knew it should be her doing it and checking he was OK.

‘I’m so sorry. I don’t normally hit people around the head with books, or anything really. I mean I don’t normally hit people. It’s just—’

Dom smiled. ‘It’s OK. I knew you were coming. I should have checked to see if you were here. It’s just Jack was so muddy – my fault for taking him over the brook out the back – I was looking for an old towel and—’

‘And I hit you!’

‘Yes, you did. But don’t worry,’ Dom felt down the side of his face, ‘not everyone can say they got sucker punched by Leonardo DiCaprio.’

Lisa gave him a quizzical look. Surely, as Rose, she’d be Kate Winslet? Dom slid the offending book across the table and Lisa realised it was a book of the film Titanic. Leonardo DiCaprio, standing in his finest at the bottom of the grand staircase, was on the front cover.

Lisa began to laugh. It was completely inappropriate. Winnie was gone and she could have killed Dom with the blow to his head. But the thought that she had hit the man who had repeatedly called her Rose since they met and embarrassed her with the theme tune to Titanic on a tannoy with a book of the film, simply made her hysterical. Jack turned his head at her quizzically while her emotions ran free: tears, laughter and sobs escaped simultaneously.

Lisa realised Dom wasn’t laughing. But despite the fact she knew her reaction was inappropriate – Dom had recently lost his gran and would be quite within his rights to charge her for assault – she couldn’t stop.

‘I’m sorry!’ she uttered between gasps of air.

Jack became more animated and Dom sent him to his bed before moving closer to Lisa. He fixed his gaze on hers and spoke calmly, the way she had seen him speak to Fred. He told her to breathe with him, deep and slow. As much as she could she mirrored him. The two of them sat holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes for several minutes while Lisa managed to regain her equilibrium.

‘I’m sorry, Dom, I—’

‘I shouldn’t have made you jump like that; it must have all been a bit of a shock.’

‘Really, I’m fine. I should be the one checking you are OK!’ Seeing a bruise forming on the side of Dom’s face Lisa reached up, but realised touching it wouldn’t help. ‘Does your Gran have any parsley?’

‘Parsley?’ Dom looked at her, brows furrowed.

Aware Dom seemed to think she was talking gibberish Lisa continued, ‘Seriously, I’m fine. We need parsley to help your bruise.’

Dom scoffed. ‘Parsley, really?’

‘It is a tried and tested remedy in the Blake household—’

Dom pulled back from Lisa and laughed. ‘Well, in this house most things get solved with a cup of tea.’ He met her eyes. ‘Trust me, I’m fine.’

Lisa watched as Dom made the tea. She offered to wipe off what little remaining mud there was on Jack’s paws; she needed to feel that she was doing something to help. Jack welcomed being allowed back out of his basket and rubbed himself against Lisa’s legs. When he was finally clean and suitably fussed over, Lisa turned to the table. The sight of the teapot and biscuit barrel was sobering. The fact Dom had brought both to the table showed it was a ritual he and Winnie had also shared many times. Lisa swallowed hard.

Dom got an ice pack from the freezer, wrapped it in a clean tea towel and held it to the side of his face. Before Lisa could point out that parsley was an equally good option he motioned to the book. ‘It’s Gran’s favourite, you know, Titanic. I’ve watched the thing so many times with her.’

Lisa bit her lip to prevent it from quivering, the realisation that Winnie had gone, once again washing over her.

‘Have you seen it?’ Dom continued.

‘Yes.’

‘It’s the end. Gran loves the end. Jack and Rose back together again. It gets her every time.’

With her emotions already too raw, Lisa couldn’t stop her lip from quivering any longer. ‘Like her and Stan, reunited at last,’ she spluttered.

‘Stan?’

‘Yes, Stan and Winnie together at last.’

‘But my dad’s Robert.’

‘What?’

‘Gran, she’s reunited with my dad. They’re together now, as we speak. Granddad’s name was Stan. He passed away a few years back.’ Dom looked at Lisa confused.

‘I know I went to his grave, after the service for Saint Ass … Ass something. But, wait, what are you saying?’

‘Gran wrote to Dad. They haven’t seen each other for too long, not since Granddad’s funeral I don’t think, and after he got her letter he came down here. Well, not straight away, as he can be a stubborn bugger, but Gran’s letter, and a push from me and Mum was all it took in the end. I’ll admit she nearly died from the shock, but it will be some time before my gran’s ready to meet her maker, as she’d say …’ Dom took a breath.

‘There’s plenty of life in the old girl yet!’ Both Lisa and Dom spoke in unison and then laughed.

‘Oh my God, I thought … well, I thought … I’m sorry, Dom, I thought she’d died.’ Lisa breathed, feeling guilty that she had ever had the thought.

‘Died! Why?’

‘She wrote me a letter—’

‘I know, about the fact she’s gone to stay with Dad and I’ll be looking after Jack for a bit.’

‘Oh!’ Lisa did a few steadying breaths as her mind caught up with the fact she had been jumping to erroneous conclusions and Winnie was still alive.

‘Dad came and collected her. It was like one of those Holly Willoughby programmes you see at Christmas, all shock and tears. With a shed load of things left to talk about, but, you know, at least being together means that might happen.’

Lisa raised an eyebrow.

‘Hey, that’s more TV I watch with Gran; obviously, I watch The World’s Strongest Man and other things that make you go grrrrr when it’s my choice!’

Lisa laughed. As she watched Dom smiling she realised she must look a mess. In the time since she had arrived at Winnie’s she had cried, been completely slobbered by Jack, almost passed out and had an inappropriate fit of hysterical laughter. But she didn’t care, Winnie was OK. Hopefully better than OK, as she was finally catching up with her son. It was the best news.

‘Gran will be so sorry to have worried you—’

‘Don’t you dare tell her! I can’t possibly have Winnie thinking I thought she’d … she’d gone.’

‘Good point. I won’t tell if you don’t. And I’m pretty sure Jack’s not going to confess to leaving mud everywhere – so our secret is safe!’

Lisa smiled.

‘So how about, to put all this behind us, you agree to come out for a drink with me? And I don’t mean from a tea kiosk!’