Written in the Stars (26 page)

Oh God, Eliza Grey. Suddenly I am hit with a wave of jealousy that takes me by surprise.

I have no right to feel jealous, I tell myself sternly. But it doesn’t help.

‘So, is er Adam, has he been . . .’ I trail off, too embarrassed to voice my concerns to Milly. What I want to say is
Has he been seeing anyone else while he’s been out there
? Instead, I go with the more acceptable, ‘Has he finished his sabbatical?’

‘You could say that,’ Milly says carefully. ‘He’s left, you know. He told George he doesn’t want to work for him any more.’

‘Oh,’ I say, utterly dumbstruck. I can’t believe it. How could Adam have left? Adam’s life IS Hudson & Grey. I don’t think he knows what to do or who he is without it.

‘He told us he doesn’t know who he is without you. So he’s taking some time out to find himself again, without any other distractions.’

I stare at the the screen in front of me, unable to process this information. I have never considered that Adam might be struggling without me. I always thought I needed him far more than the other way round. I am trying to imagine Adam, my strong, incisive, stoical Adam, in a world where he isn’t working and I realise that, even though I’m happy for him, I feel . . . sad. I wish I could see him relaxed and carefree, travelling across America. I hope he’s enjoying being unshackled from the pressures of working for his dad, living the kind of life that he’d never had the opportunity to consider before. I hope he does work out what he wants. I realise that the fact he’s in New York means that what he wants definitely isn’t me. I think of the Facebook messages we exchanged just a few months ago. We’ve both moved on, just like we knew we would.

So why don’t I feel happier about it?

Milly and I talk for a bit longer, about sonograms and antenatal classes, buggies and other baby stuff. Then we say goodbye quickly, both desperate to get off the phone and back to our new lives. In different time zones. And what appears to be increasingly different worlds.

Chapter 37

‘Morning!’ calls Sal, smiling broadly at me as I push open the door on Monday. I’m immediately engulfed by the fragrance of flowers and earthy wet flower-shop scent. I loved being back in Norfolk, seeing Kieran and catching up with Loni and then having dinner with Cal. So much so that I’ve promised I’ll visit more often. I won’t be full-time here until Sal goes on maternity leave. In fact I’ve already decided to go back home this week. It’s not because of Kieran – I want to spend more time with my family. Well, that’s what I’m telling myself.

‘How was your weekend?’ Sal asks as she puts out the buckets of flowers.

‘Great!’ I reply. ‘Brilliant, in fact. Just what I needed . . .’

This is true. I feel so much better for spending some time at home. Hearing Milly’s news made me realise just how much I’ve been neglecting my family. I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve seen them in the past year and I feel horribly ashamed. Not least because Cal and Lucy could do with some help. They’re both clearly exhausted. They don’t have the benefit of on-hand babysitters. There isn’t a limitless fund for nights out. Loni babysits when she can but she has so many evening events lined up they have to book her well in advance. I’d been putting off going to Norfolk because I didn’t think it would help me to be there, but I’d been so obsessed with my own needs that I hadn’t considered that
I
might be able to help
them
.

Maybe that’s why Loni was so ridiculously thrilled when I told her I’d be back in a few days when she drove me to Norwich and dropped me off at the train station.

‘You’re coming back in DAYS, not months, darling? What a JOY!’ she exulted, pulling me into her bosom and kissing my head fervently. The tight hug Cal gave me on the platform told me he was happy too.

I’d glanced up at Loni as we’d said goodbye and was surprised to see the glimmer of tears in her eyes and I’d felt more ashamed of myself than ever. We’re not the closest mother and daughter in the world but she’s all I have and I know I’ve neglected her.

‘I’m so glad. I’ll have to change some plans though,’ Loni said, more to herself than to us.

‘Oh yeah, G-LO?’ Cal answered teasingly. This is the nickname Loni gave herself because she didn’t feel old enough to be called ‘Grandma’. Cal has taken to using it, too. ‘Got a proper boyfriend, at last? Someone you
make plans
with? Have you finally decided it’s time to settle down?’ He’d rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘It makes sense – I mean, I’ve hardly seen you recently . . .’ He was teasing her and we all knew it. Usually Loni laughs along, but not on this occasion.

‘No, darling!’ Loni snapped, flicking her chin up defensively. ‘You know I don’t plan on settling down! Why shouldn’t a single woman of my age have some fun? Just because I don’t want a life-partner doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be able to have SEX.’

She said this word so loudly that a gaggle of passing passengers turned to look at us. I blushed and begged her to lower her voice. But she refused. ‘Don’t be such a prude! Sex is the best way of being in the moment, of being in the flow of life without thinking of the past or worrying about the future.’

‘Aside from just, you know, being happy on your own . . .’ I offered.

‘Well yes, but that’s just
dull
!’ Loni exclaimed. ‘Honestly, you two, if you’d listen to me more often . . .’

‘Hear that, sis? Listen to your wise old mother,’ Cal said affectionately, giving Loni a squeeze. ‘You go slag it up reet proper!’ he added in a broad Norfolk accent and Loni whacked him.

‘That’s not what I’m saying,’ she chastised him, and grinning he threw his arm around her.

In that moment I felt so happy to be with them that I knew I’d made the right decision to come back more often. I got on the train not feeling my usual sensation of guilt and relief and like the odd one out, but soothed, healed.

Maybe Loni was right, I thought as she jumped up and down on the platform, waving a tie-dyed scarf at me as the train pulled away. Maybe it was time for me to get back in the proverbial saddle. I thought of Kieran and then quickly pushed him from my mind.

This wasn’t about him . . . was it?

It’s a question I’ve been asking myself after the text conversation we had that left me unable to sleep last night. I felt like a teenager again as I lay on top of the covers in Milly’s flat, the hot, humid night only adding to the excitement I felt every time my phone beeped and a new message from him appeared.

What are you doing? K xx

I replied instantly, my fingers moving deftly across the phone keyboard, hovering over the x before pressing it.

Nothing. x
What about now? x
Still nothing . . .
Not taken any risks recently then, huh . . .? ;-)
Depends what you mean by ‘recent’ . . .
Fancy taking one with me? x
I’m texting you, so it looks like I already am . . . x
I mean taking a leap. An actual one.
So do I.
Together. This week? x

I paused for a moment and my phone buzzed again.

I’ll pick you up from your mum’s on Thursday. All will be revealed then. x
I’m not that sort of girl. x
Ha ha. Shame . . . xx

That was followed by another text.

Question. What are you most scared of?

I looked at the ceiling, struggling to know how to reply without revealing too much. I’d finally settled on just one word:

Falling.

He responded within a second.

You should never be afraid of that. xxx

I suddenly realise I’ve been daydreaming in the back room for nearly ten minutes. I unhook my bag from around my neck, with shaking hands take off my denim jacket and go into the shop. I’m horrified when I see that Sal is crouched down, trying to drag an olive tree in a heavy earthenware pot out onto the street.

‘Let me do that!’ I exclaim. ‘How many times do I have to tell you to stop lifting heavy things,’ I scold. We have quickly settled into roles that involve me nagging her like a concerned mum and running around after her whilst she protests at my help.

‘I’m not ill, you know, Bea,’ she says, heaving and exhaling so that wisps of yellowy blonde hair fly up around her face, like rays of sunshine. Her comment instantly makes me think of Milly and of how similar my old friend and my new friend are. Headstrong, decisive, straight to the point. I think of Milly, my best friend, four months pregnant and Sal, now nearly seven months gone. I feel a now familiar sense of being in some sort of new, parallel universe. One where everything has changed.

‘So, any gossip?’ Sal asks meaningfully.

I smile. I can’t tell anyone else, so why not her?

Chapter 38

‘SURPRISE!’

‘Oh my GOSH!’ Glenda cries, dropping her handbag as I hand her the bouquet of flowers Nick ordered for her fiftieth birthday and asked me to deliver personally. I convinced Sal to close the shop early and come with me too so I could introduce her to my friends. The shop has been quiet this month; London is on holiday.

‘Oh Bea, it’s gorgeous!’ Glenda exclaims and she kisses me on the cheek.

I smile as I look at the bouquet. There’s a single yellow zinnia there because she chose it for her husband’s funeral and it symbolises daily remembrance. Then I’ve added some golden yellow alstroemeria (
friendship and devotion
), some bright, late-blooming azaleas (
maternal love
) and sunflowers – because other than daffs, I can’t think of a bloom that better represents her.

‘Oh Bea, they’re beautiful, pet!’ Glenda says, her eyes filling with tears. ‘And a yellow zinnia . . . I—’ She gets all choked and envelops me in a warm, perfumed hug and then turns to Sal and beams at her. ‘It’s
so
lovely to meet a new friend of Bea’s. Thank you both so much for coming.’

‘I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, G,’ I say, giving her a tight squeeze as Nick brings out the cake he’s had made in the shape of her name, iced in colours of the Welsh flag and with five sugared daffodils with candles in stuck on top – ‘I couldn’t fit fifty,’ he’d said – and we all sing ‘Happy Birthday’. The entire room bursts into applause.

She pulls away and wipes her eyes.

‘Here, G, let me put those in a vase for you,’ Tim says, slipping his arm around her. ‘I’ll make some more tea while I’m there.’

‘I’ll help you!’ Sal says a second later and scurries after him. ‘Watch out,’ she warns him as he fails to hold open the kitchen door for her. ‘Lady with a baby coming through!’

‘Oh, shit, babe – and er, baby, I’m so sorry!’ Tim gasps. He turns around and stares at Sal’s face and then her stomach in horror. He looks mortified as he holds the door open. ‘I didn’t realise you were behind me.’

‘Hard to miss, aren’t I?’ Sal says, clasping her tummy. ‘I’m ENORMOUS.’ She edges past him.

‘You look . . . lovely.’ She stops and looks up. He towers over her but they stare at each other for a moment and in that second I experience a strange sensation that my old and new lives are crossing and whole worlds are changing.

September

Dear Bea

So here we are in September; the lazy hammock that swings between the staunch tree trunks of summer and winter. Your well-tended flowers and shrubs are mellowing out this month, giving a colourful climax to their end-of-season show. As the month goes on and the days begin to shorten, you’ll notice a subtle muting of colour; bright pinks and yellows are replaced by darker cerises and burnt-biscuit golds. Clouds of Michaelmas daisies drift across borders, swarms of sedums and hordes of helianthus, too. The approach of autumn brings a second flowering to shrubs and trees, providing a flush of bloom that brings to mind the renewal of old romances. Notice, too, the burgeoning bellies of frothy pink or white gypsophilia or ‘baby’s breath’ that will suddenly appear.

You may find yourself locked in a back-to school mentality that prompts you to sharpen performance, passion and prospects in preparation for a big professional change. Now is certainly the time to establish a new lawn. Ground should be properly prepared and levelled first to form a firm surface on which new seeds can flourish. Dig up those roots and transplant evergreens; you will soon see how they flourish in a new position. Sow hardy annuals that you know you can always rely on to bring colour and depth – but remember to plant new bulbs too.

After all, Bea, the garden is always evolving and so should you.

Love, Dad x

Chapter 39

Bea Hudson is finally making the leap.

‘I still can’t believe it’s your last day,’ Glenda says mournfully, stroking the dark green leaves of the jade plant I gave her for her birthday last month as I continue packing up my desk. It is said to represent the joy and energy of friendship and is considered lucky. ‘I’m going to miss you so much. We all are.’

‘Me too, G.’ I glance around the office that has been my career foster home for seven years – and my real home for the past four months. I can’t believe it’s only been three short weeks since I walked into Nick’s office and told him I wanted to go for the temp position at JF Design. It was Adam’s idea. He was the one who got excited when the candidate James had chosen unexpectedly dropped out because she got offered a full-time position somewhere else (‘How many more signs do you need?’ he’d said). I’d finally listened to him, because even I couldn’t run away from this opportunity a second time.

Nick had immediately called James who’d been thrilled that I was being released from my contract and said he’d love me to work for him.

‘You’ve always been on borrowed time here,’ Nick said when he ended the call that changed my entire career future. ‘I can’t ignore the signs any longer that you’re way too good for us.’

And now, my last day at Eagle’s is drawing to a close. Everyone starts gathering around my desk, plastic cups of sparkling wine in hand, bowls of crisps and a Colin-the-Caterpillar cake spread out on the table, and I realise how much I’m going to miss every single one of my colleagues. I look around at them all now, taking in their beaming smiles, their genuine happiness for me. Even when I was a temp I always felt like I knew the staff of Eagle Recruitment pretty well, but really I just flitted in and out here like a honeybee, pausing to get my fill of friendship nectar before buzzing off to whatever soul-sucking City office had hired me for the week or month. I thought I liked it like that; surface friendships were safer, after all. But now I realise I made assumptions because of that. I thought Glenda was a lonely widow. But now I know her better I realise she is the busiest, happiest woman I know. She’s making the most of her new beginning. No living life in the past for her. And then there’s Tim . . . after Nick’s speech he’s gone back to work dutifully, even though it is long past 5 p.m.