‘You can’t mean it!’ I said. ‘What on earth would I do there?’
‘Nursing must be pretty transferable, isn’t it?’ he said.
‘I-I don’t know.’
I wasn’t ready for the unexpected turn this conversation had taken. Thankfully, Nick didn’t push it.
‘Well, lots for us all to think about,’ he said evenly, draining his tea. ‘I’d better get back to my app. See you later.’
He kissed me again and I tried to return to my jobs but found it impossible to focus. As far as I could tell, Nick hadn’t altogether abandoned the idea of selling Lyonscroft and returning to LA. The house was neither here nor there to me, but I was uneasy about his suggestion that I could move my life out there as well. On the one hand, it felt thrilling: it sounded like he wanted me to be with him, and I thought that was also what I wanted, but it was far too soon to consider throwing my life in the air and moving halfway across the world together. Or was it? What was I going to leave behind? My family, who I loved but who were not that interested in me, and would be even less so once Steph started having babies? My job which was, by its nature, transitory and could be left at short notice? The thought of changing my work was something that had flitted across my mind recently, but I had not let it settle. The truth was that live-in nursing of the sort I did was not compatible with a relationship and that, of course, was why it had suited me so well. But I also could not ignore the fact that working withpatients in the capacity I did comforted me, both by sustaining the link to Paulo and by helping me work out some self-inflicted penance I needed because he had died, because I had not been able to save him.
Pushing my paperwork to one side, I picked up my phone and scrolled through the photos until I found my favourite one of the two of us together. I looked at Paulo’s beloved face, and was able to do so without crying or having to close the picture down quickly because it was too painful. Even this change of feeling confused me, and when I heard India and Sofia come in from school, I jumped up, pushing both work and phone to one side. I wasn’t hopeful, but maybe keeping busy with something else would take my mind off my worries.
NINETEEN
Astrid, understandably, needed to talk to India so I suggested I took Sofia, who was dying to see Firefly, down to the stables and India could meet us there later. Angela said she was happy to wake Marilise from her nap, so before long Sofia and I were crunching our way over the gravel, accompanied by Steve who must have had enough of being cooped up inside while Nick worked. Sofia chattered away happily about school, the new friends she had made and the play, and I was glad to supply the occasional question but otherwise let her talk as much as she wanted. I don’t know much about horses, but Firefly appeared pleased to see us and we fed him some carrots that Sofia had grabbed from the kitchen on the way, and I enjoyed the feel of his velvety, whiskery muzzle on my hand as I fed and petted him.
‘Hello!’
A voice came from behind and we turned to see India, looking happier than I had seen her for days.
‘All good?’ I asked.
‘All great,’ she said, patting Firefly. ‘Mum told me that you know what’s happened; thanks for looking after her.’
‘It was my pleasure,’ I said, and quicky explained to Sofia about Philip and the broken engagement.
‘That’s sad,’ said Sofia, concern clouding her little face.
‘Not really,’ said India, unbolting the stable door and leading her horse out. She tied his rope to an iron ring set into the wall, then went into a small room and emerged with three brushes. She handed one to me and one to Sofia, then grinned at what was presumably a look of complete bemusement on my face. ‘Just do his neck and sides,’ she said. ‘Brush in the direction the hair grows and you can’t go wrong.’
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I undertook my task with diligence as India continued talking.
‘I’m sorry that my mum’s upset, but I’m not at all sorry that she’s not marrying Philip,’ she continued. ‘I hope we don’t have to leave Lyonscroft – we both love it here.’
‘We should do something to cheer her up,’ piped up Sofia. ‘Like you did for me when I first arrived.’
‘Another window of the advent calendar?’ I said. ‘That’s a great idea. Do you think your mum would like that, India?’
‘Yes, I’m sure she would. What should we give her? I’ve already bought her Christmas present – it’s a pretty necklace, so not jewellery.’
‘Maybe she’d like a reindeer like Reddo,’ suggested Sofia, stroking the head of the toy, which was poking out of her coat as usual. ‘He’s so nice.’
I smiled.
‘She may well do, but I was wondering about a Christmas plant or flower, seeing as she loves gardens so much. I’m going out this evening, so I could get it on my way, the garden centre is open late.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ said India. ‘And we can do the number to put up.’
This arranged, it was time for me to go back to Marilise before steeling myself for an evening with my family.
I picked up a beautiful arrangement of ivy and cyclamen in a basket planter before heading to my parents’ house. The wedding dress designer was coming for the final fitting, and it had been deemed necessary for me to attend as well. I had hoped that it would be a three-line whip for all the bridesmaids, but Araminta had told me over text that she, at least, wasn’t invited. I was sorry; it would have been nice to have her there. Instead, as I parked my car, I saw Dorothea’s enormous ‘compact’ white SUV parked outside that she liked barging around the roads in. Why it was called ‘compact’ when it loomed over my modest hatchback, I wasn’t sure, but it was as vulgar and overbearing as its driver. I let myself in, calling out a greeting, and Mum came bustling out of the sitting room and gave me a hug.
‘Come in, Dorothea’s here already and the dress lady will come at any minute.’
I followed her into the sitting room where I found Steph in an ivory satin robe with “Bride” emblazoned across the back in diamanté, looking at Dorothea, who was squeezed into the same peach satin I presumed I was supposed to wear.
‘Hello,’ said Steph. ‘We thought we should try on the bridesmaids’ dresses at the same time. Yours is upstairs on Mum and Dad’s bed – go and put it on, will you?’
