Chapter Twenty-Seven
January 2017
Lydia hauled her suitcase through the front door of her terraced house, out of the rain and the cold and the February dreariness that had welcomed her back to the UK. Already she was missing the clear blue skies of Andorra, the snow-capped mountains, the holiday atmosphere. But most of all she missed Jonathan.
She put the kettle on and took out the photograph she’d slipped into the inside section of her rucksack. It had been taken the day of the mushing and there were her and Jonathan all bundled up in blankets in the sled ready to go, his arms around her protectively, her hands holding onto his. She stared at the picture. It was a long time since she’d smiled so much and she’d never forget that day.
She poured the boiling water onto a cranberry and raspberry infusion teabag and let it steep, stirring the spoon round and round slowly to get the flavour moving, mesmerised by the photo she’d positioned upright against the tiles.
As she drank her tea at the table, she waded through the pile of post she’d scooped up from the doormat: bills, junk mail, a postcard from her sister which made her laugh – it was from Chester where she’d been trawling the bridal shops to get inspiration before she dragged Lydia along to try everything on.
Binning the post she didn’t want or need and leaving the bills until later, Lydia finished her tea and looked at the suitcase waiting patiently in the hallway. No time like the present, she decided. She opened the lid and took out piles and piles of clothes. She hadn’t done any washing for the last few days of her holiday so now it was time to sort the lights from darks and deposit the first load in the machine. When the doorbell rang she trotted down the hallway, glad of the interruption, and found Sally on the other side.
‘Welcome home!’ Her friend shook out her umbrella and rested it against the wall beneath the tiny porch roof over the front door. ‘It’s so great to see you.’
‘Come in, it’s revolting out there!’ Lydia took one look at the rain lashing down worse than it had been half an hour ago and Sally followed her through to the kitchen. She flicked the kettle on again. ‘Tea?’
‘Would I ever say no?’
‘Fruit or regular?’
‘Regular please, with a splash of milk. So come on, tell me all about the “work trip”.’ She put the last two words in air quotes, which was understandable given not all of it had been business. A lot of it had been pleasure.
‘It was surprisingly good.’
‘Did you ski?’
Lydia made herself a camomile tea this time. A second cup in quick succession was unusual but it was good to gossip with steaming mugs of tea between them. ‘I did.’
‘Really?’
‘I knew I had to so I got it over with on the first day. I had a lesson and I managed a fair few trips down a green run.’
Sally gave a cheer. ‘Wanna rethink coming with us when we go?’
Lydia shook her head. ‘No thanks. I had a shiner of a bruise on my left buttock for a few days and that was enough for me.’
‘So what else did you do?’
Lydia talked about mushing, the thrill of being pulled on a sled through the snow. She told Sally all about the Caterpillar vehicle, the shopping, the snowshoeing. And she couldn’t be more complimentary about the spa day. ‘You’d have been in heaven,’ she told her friend.
Sally blew across her tea. ‘Wasn’t it lonely? You know, doing all that by yourself.’
Lydia shrugged.
Sally put down her cup and just when Lydia thought she’d have to tell her more, she spotted the photograph. ‘Who’s that? He looks familiar, do I know him?’ She leapt up and grabbed the picture. ‘He’s gorgeous! So he was what you were up to when you were away?’
Lydia opened up a packet of shortbread and offered it to Sally when she sat down again. ‘It’s Jonathan Maynard.’ She held a shortbread finger but couldn’t bite into it just yet.
‘The guy who does charity events, skiing?’
‘The very same. I showed you his picture in a magazine once, when you were showing me pictures of the holiday you wanted to book. Remember?’
‘Aha! I do remember!’ She suddenly clapped a hand across her mouth. ‘Did you and he…?’
Lydia’s smile faded. ‘Oh God, am I a terrible person?’ Now she was home, the reality was beginning to dawn.
Sally’s hand covered her friend’s. ‘No, you’re not. But you are if you don’t tell me everything.’
Lydia looked at her friend and said, ‘Sally, I’m falling in love with him.’
*
‘Can you be in love with two men at the same time?’ Lydia asked after she’d told Sally more and they moved into the lounge to continue their conversation. Lydia put a match to the kindling, the fire lighter and a couple of pieces of screwed-up newspaper.
‘I think in certain situations, you probably can,’ said Sally.
‘In situations like mine, you mean.’
‘Exactly. But, Lydia, I don’t think you’re in love with two men. I think the love you have for Theo has shifted a gear.’ She waited for Lydia to sit down next to her. ‘You still love him. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t, but you’re beginning to pick up the pieces because really, he’s gone. And you shouldn’t feel guilty for that.’
‘I feel like I’m cheating.’
Sally sighed deeply. ‘You’re not cheating. It’s not a black and white situation, it’s almost impossible to imagine ever being in your position for the last thirteen and a half months.’ She smiled. ‘Are you seeing him again?’
Lydia couldn’t suppress her grin. ‘He’s coming over in…’ She looked at her watch ‘…approximately four and a half hours.’
With a squeal, Sally hugged her friend. ‘He’s gorgeous, good for you.’
Another knock at the door and Lydia opened it to Connor this time. ‘Come in and join the party,’ she told him as he took off his coat and hung it on the hook in the hallway. ‘You’re soaked.’
‘I don’t have an umbrella.’
She ran upstairs and grabbed a towel from the airing cupboard and threw it to him.
He deftly caught it and rubbed it across the blond tips of his hair. ‘Thanks. So come on, how was the “work trip”?’ When he did the same air quotes Sally had awarded her vacation in Andorra, Lydia laughed, and showing him through to the lounge she told him all about it, covering everything apart from the subject of Jonathan Maynard.
‘Ask her what else she did.’ Sally had brought the packet of shortbread fingers through to the lounge and offered them round.
‘That sounds interesting.’ He looked to Lydia. ‘Or is it for girls’ ears only?’
She explained how she’d fallen on the slopes and Jonathan had picked her up, she talked about the time they’d spent together but not in quite such flowery language as when she’d told Sally, and when she’d finished he asked, ‘Did you spend the night together?’
She hesitated.
‘Oh come on, Lydia. We’re friends, remember? Just because we bumped uglies once doesn’t mean we can’t tell each other everything, does it?’
‘I suppose not. And yes, we did spend the night together, last night as it happens.’
‘I’m really pleased for you,’ he said with a sincerity that would be difficult to miss.
They talked more about Jonathan, more about winter holidays and the three of them waxed lyrical about what Lydia’s next work assignment would be. Connor’s bet was on an all-expenses-paid trip to the Maldives just to check if the sand was as white as in the photographs and the sea as blue as they’d have you believe; Sally thought she’d probably get a foodies tour of Europe visiting as many chocolate shops as she could.
‘Jammy cow,’ said Sally.
‘Talking of being jammy,’ Connor began and Lydia knew what his news was by the look on his face.
‘You got the job?’
‘I got the job!’ He grinned and Lydia hugged him, the friend she’d known for such a short time but who had come to mean so much to her.
‘That’s fantastic. Have you handed your notice in yet?’
‘I finish next Wednesday and I’ll have a long weekend before I start. Can’t wait.’
‘I’m really pleased for you.’ When the washing machine beeped, Lydia stood up. ‘Excuse me… gotta put the next load on.’
When she came back into the room she checked her watch again.
‘Come on, Connor.’ Sally stood up and shrugged on her chunky-knit cardigan. ‘Lover boy will be here soon and we’ll only be in the way.’
He stayed put. ‘You’re kidding. I want to check him out, see if he’s good enough.’
The girls grabbed one arm each and pulled him to standing.
‘Thanks for coming round, both of you,’ said Lydia, leading the way to the door, and with a flourish of goodbyes, good lucks and don’t-do-anything-I-wouldn’t-do’s, they were gone and the only sound left was the whirring of the washing machine.
She brushed up crumbs from the lounge, plumped up the cushions; she hung all the washing on the airer next to the radiator in the hallway. And lastly she found a bottle of red and two glasses and lined them up on the kitchen bench top. She was exhausted really. Last night they’d barely slept, too enamoured by each other’s bodies as they discovered new layers to their intimacy, but she would stay up long into the night if it meant she got to spend time with Jonathan again.
When the doorbell rang her mouth felt dry, her palms sweaty, but the second she saw Jonathan she forgot about her nerves, and as soon as he was inside the house, he greeted her with a passion she remembered from the night before. They didn’t waste any time and kissing as much as they could along the way, made their way to her bedroom and it was only when they were lying down, the weight of him on top of her, that he pulled back and looked at her.
‘I missed you,’ he said.
‘You only saw me this morning for breakfast.’
‘That was hours ago.’ He kissed her neck, her earlobes, her collarbone. ‘I need reminding.’
‘Of what?’
‘Of how gorgeous you are and how lucky I am.’
He looked more serious now as she cupped his face with her hands and looked deep into his eyes. ‘I’m lucky too.’ It was a word she wouldn’t have used in a long time, but with Jonathan by her side the world didn’t scare her so much.
When they finally left the bedroom, Jonathan winced. ‘Your floors are freezing!’ Outside, the sun that had hidden behind the clouds had really given up and the only light came from streetlamps and passing cars. ‘Where’s my other sock?’
She found it on the landing outside the bedroom, and when she gave it to him he kissed her as though she’d given him much more than an item of clothing.
‘Hungry?’ she asked, heading downstairs, her hand behind her and holding onto his.
‘Starving.’
‘Indian, Chinese or pizza?’
‘You choose. I could eat all three, personally.’ His hands held her waist as they walked through to the kitchen and pored over the menus.
‘Let’s go for Chinese, I’m starving.’
‘Deal.’
*
As the months rolled on, Februrary came and went, and with March the promise of spring hovered in the air as the odd hint of colour popped up in flowerbeds in the park nearby. Jonathan and Lydia had spent much of the winter cosied up in her little house, taking brisk walks after work, driving out to the countryside at weekends. And Lydia had begun to feel settled, almost in a groove she didn’t mind being in this time. Anita sent the odd message but was very short in her explanations, which Lydia had come to understand meant there was nothing to report. Once or twice Lydia had thought about calling her up but the longer she went without contact, the more alien it would feel.
Lydia hadn’t been to see Theo since New Year’s Eve, since she’d said goodbye. She had days where she felt terrible for it and others where she accepted life had to go on. She wasn’t sure whether she’d stay away forever, but for now, it was what it was. She’d also told Sally everything about London and Melanie’s visit and she felt, for once, that she was beginning to get back on track.
‘I don’t feel like cooking tonight,’ Jonathan declared one evening after both of them had had a particularly busy day at work. ‘How about pizza?’
They’d begun to take turns at cooking and Jonathan revealed another of his many talents: the man could cook! Last night he’d made a sumptuous roast beef dish, served with baby peas, green beans and hassleback potatoes, and Lydia had made a lemon meringue pie for dessert.
‘Pizza sounds good,’ she agreed. ‘But on one condition…I make salad tomorrow. You’re feeding me up far too much!’
He pulled her to him. ‘What can I say? I love your curves, I don’t ever want you to lose them.’
She giggled and eventually pushed him away enough so she could grab the menu and they could agree on the toppings. They rang through the order and then bundled into their coats to walk the few streets to the pizzeria for collection. At least the rain had stopped and by the time they got home again, the smell wafting from the box was intoxicating.
Inside in the warm, Lydia took out the plates and cutlery. ‘Do the honours, would you?’ She indicated the unopened wine.
‘Your machine’s flashing.’ He nodded over to where the red light on top of the black box flashed insistently.
‘It’s probably my sister, Imogen, to give me more wedding details. She’s so unbelievably excited and it’s all about setting the date at the moment.’
He opened the wine and handed her a glass of red as she pressed the play button with her free hand. But it wasn’t Imogen at all.
‘Lydia, are you there? It’s Anita. I need to talk to you urgently.’ There was a pause and Lydia froze because she knew Anita was crying. Not heavily but enough to show how difficult this message was to leave. ‘Could you please call me back straight away.’ Her voice broke. ‘It’s Theo…’
Jonathan and Lydia looked at each other and he stepped forward, put a hand on her arm. ‘Would you rather I left?’
She shook her head. ‘Stay, please.’ The events since almost fifteen months ago came hurtling back to her: the night of the accident, the knock at the door, the beeping of machines in the hospital, the hopeless days and nights when Theo hadn’t moved, the relentless one-sided conversations.
And now, this was it. Her heart thumped. She’d known this moment could come sooner or later, that the life in limbo would finally come to an end as Theo died.
‘Oh God.’ Her hand hovered on the phone. ‘I don’t think I can do it.’
‘You can, Lydia. And you will. The woman sounds distraught and desperate. You must call her back.’ Jonathan’s voice was soft, unbreaking, and the look of compassion pushed her forwards as he lifted the handset and passed it to her.
She pressed speed dial and the number two, programmed in ever since she and Theo had moved into this house, the place they’d chosen together, where they’d shared countless dinners, been unwell and cared for one another, they’d laughed, they’d had their fair share of arguments, but mostly, it was where she and Theo had lived their lives together.
She took a deep breath and let it out when Anita picked up. ‘Anita…it’s me.’
But Anita didn’t say the words she was expecting to hear and as she tried to take in what she was saying, she staggered against the bench top and the phone fell from her hand.
Jonathan was by her side in seconds. ‘Lydia, it’s okay. Talk to me.’
She was shaking her head and Anita was still on the other end of the phone but it was all she could do just to breathe. She picked up the phone and ended the call.
She looked up at Jonathan, deep into his eyes, her own pooling with tears.
‘He’s awake,’ she said. ‘Theo is awake.’