‘Have you even looked at him properly?’ asked Izzy, becoming exasperated. ‘And I don’t mean compared him to Dad.’
‘Izzy, I don’t have anyone else to compare himwith. I was with your father a very long time.’
‘Yes, you were. But there are more men in the world than just him. All I’m suggesting is that something a little more than just friendship wouldn’t be a completely dreadful thing, would it?’
‘Oh, Izzy, it’s not that simple.’
‘Why? Why is it not as simple as two people falling in love?’
‘Love…? Peg frowned. ‘We’re a long way from that, Izzy. I’m not a teenager any more, hankering after some romantic dream. Trust me, it’s different when you’re older.’
Izzy shook her head. ‘No, I don’t believe that. You always told us that love was love. Why does your age change the situation?’
‘Because there are more things to consider. You, for example. And Phoebe. I have a house, a life. I’vehada life, with someone else. When you’re young, it’s an adventure, it’s exciting thinking about your future and all the things it might hold, a future you might create with someone. When you’re older, you’ve done all that. Things are more settled…You know your own mind, for one, and yes, hard though it’s been without your father, I’ve got used to being on my own. Used to doing things how I want them, and when I want to. I’m not sure I want any of that to change.’
‘So you’re going to throw away a chance of happiness because Henry might not like curry? Or watches ITV instead of BBC?’
‘That isn’t what I said.’
‘But it’s what you meant. You’re so determined not to fall in love, you won’t ever give yourself a chance. And I get it, Mum, we all get it. It’s scary. You didn’t think you’d ever have to think about this again. But you’ve faced fears many people haven’t and you’ve got through them. You’re tough, and brave, and well, just lovely, Mum. Youdeserveto be happy. I mean really happy. And Henry isn’t scary at all. At least give him a chance.’
Peg tutted, although she smiled too. ‘Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.’
‘But you’re still not going to listen, are you? You’ve already made up your mind how your future is going to look. But it was Dad who died, Mum, not you.’
‘Izzy!’
‘Well, it’s true. You’ve holed yourself up here, with your garden and your drawing and never given yourself any reason to go out again.’
‘Maybe because I don’t need to. I like my life.’
‘Do you, though? Or do you just pretend to? We all saw you at Christmas – how much you enjoyed having us all here.’
‘Yes, I did, but that doesn’t mean?—’
‘It was the worst circumstances imaginable and yet you welcomed Henry’s family in like they were our own.’
‘Well, of course I did, what else could I do? It was Christmas and, for a time, we were all convinced Henry was going to die. I couldn’t just leave his family in the hospital and ignore them. Don’t forget I know exactly how it feels to lose someone at this time of year.’
Izzy dropped her head. ‘I know, Mum, but loving Dad doesn’t mean that you can’t ever love anyone else. Dad was no angel, but the more the years go by, the more he’s become one. Don’t confuse your grief with the truth. You told us never to think how weoughtto feel, but to be gentle with ourselves because whatever wewerefeeling was okay. You don’t need to feel guilty about anything, Mum.’
Peg looked away, staring down the garden path at the woodland beyond. She could remember so clearly when her girls were little, and on the bad days when life was fraught, with too many demands, how she would remind herself that whatever her children got up to, whatever anguish they caused her, that itwouldget easier. And it did, except that now they were adults themselves, they no longer simply did as they were told. She was no longer just a mother to them, she was a thinking, feelingequal, who they could figure out in a heartbeat. And how many times had she stood in this garden, grateful that this was the case because she so desperately needed them to understand what she was going through? Too many times to count. And they had, just as Izzy did now.
She gave a rueful smile. ‘You’re too clever for your own good, did you know that?’
‘And I wonder who I get that from?’ Izzy smiled and held out her arms. ‘I just want you to be happy, Mum,’ she said, pulling Peg into a hug. ‘And I’m not saying it has to be with Henry, not at all, but don’t you remember how you always told us that you knew you were going to marry Dad the minute you met him?’
‘Did I?’ said Peg, pretending not to remember. ‘Well, that’s rubbish. It doesn’t happen like that.’
‘And yet…you meet a guy in a petrol station and then bump into him again seventy miles down the road. I mean, what are the chances of that? I don’t know, maybe it’s likefateor something.’ Izzy rolled her eyes in dramatic fashion and then grinned. ‘Love you, Mum. But can we please go in now, it’s freezing. And I’m starving…’
26
NEW YEAR’S DAY
Izzy was gone by eight the next morning, leaving an empty space at the breakfast table and an awkward silence in the kitchen. Peg was only too aware that her conversation with Henry of the previous day hadn’t been finished, and although she was mindful that it needed to be, Peg couldn’t think of a way back into it.
Izzy was good company, and so they’d spent a pleasant evening, all four of them sitting around the fire, drinking a bottle of wine and chatting about anything and everything, except of course about Henry and Peg – the Henry and Peg which occupied one sentence, that is. They could talk about Peg and they could talk about Henry, that was fine, but what they mustn’t do was talk about them together.
