Ewan taps another number into my phone. “This is my accountant. He has a lot of sole trader clients so he’ll be able to advise you. He can do all the company setup stuff too. You’ll need to find a bank online. Check out which ones are offering free business banking, that sort of thing. Do you know a builder who could do your attic conversion?”
Again I shake my head.
“Right. This guy’s a friend of mine. He’ll do a decent job and not charge you an arm and a leg.” More details keyed into my phone.
My head is reeling now. So much to do, so many projects to set in motion. And for the first time in months I’m eager, actually itching to get on with it.
“Thank you. I wouldn’t have known where to start.”
“Yes, you would. I’ve just given you a few shortcuts. We small traders need to stick together. I’ll be expecting mates’ rates on my website design though.”
“You’d hire me? But you haven’t even seen my work yet.”
“I know you’ll be good. I’m your first client. Don’t let me down.”
Chapter Four
I’ve been dreading the first Christmas without Ed, but now it’s here and I don’t feel nearly so desolate as I imagined I would. I’ve been so busy getting my fledgling business up and running I’ve hardly had any time to sit and brood. And the solitary drinking has stopped altogether.
Ewan stayed for about ten days, then was gone again to sunnier climes. He called round to see me the morning he left and reminded me that I was to give him a ring if I wanted to talk. I haven’t, but we’ve exchanged a lot of texts. Just small talk, or updates on my business.
Arrived about an hour ago. Fucking hot
Just back from seeing Pete. Very helpful. Thanks for recommending him. He’s going to do my tax returns. Thank God!
Forgot to pay my paper bill. Could you? I’ll settle up when I’m back
Builder’s been. Starting in the New Year—too wet right now to do roof work
45 degrees in the shade here.
Show off. How’s the stadium coming along?
Good. See you in two weeks.
Two weeks. He’ll be back in a fortnight. I hug myself when I read that text. He’ll be back early in the New Year then.
I’m really looking forward to seeing Ewan again. I’ve missed him. Not in the aching, empty way I miss Ed, but in a more eager, anticipating way. Ewan is real, and solid, and alive. And soon he’ll be here again.
I spend the Christmas and New Year holiday in Glasgow with Helen and her family. They are kind, welcoming, sympathetic. They go out of their way not to mention Ed. That doesn’t really surprise me, lots of people react that way. But for reasons I can’t quite fathom I also go out of my way not to mention Ewan. Not that there’s anything to hide, of course there isn’t. It’s just—private.
On balance, and despite my sister’s misplaced sensitivity, the holiday is nowhere near as morose and maudlin as I feared—my first Christmas without Ed and all that. I actually enjoy the cheerful chatter and the glitzy television shows, even the Queen’s Speech to follow Christmas lunch. Ed would have hated it. He liked to spend Christmas Eve in the pub, and Christmas day in bed.
I return to Yorkshire the day after Hogmanay, looking forward to the bright, shiny new year stretching enticingly ahead of me, glittering with promise and possibility. This time last year I was contemplating getting married. It will, sorry, would have been, our first wedding anniversary in the middle of January. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Ed and I lived together for two years before we tied the knot, but I don’t recall this sense of gleeful anticipation back then. Still, difficult weeks ahead. Firstanniversaries are always hard, or so I’m reliably informed by Helen. Next year should be easier.
Is your kettle on?
The text from Ewan pings onto my phone at around eight o’clock on the second evening after I return home. I reply straight away.
No
Ping.
Wrong answer. I’m coming up your path now.
A moment later I’m still on my way downstairs to the kitchen when the knock sounds at my door. I detour to open it, and have to give myself a stern talking to about not flinging myself into his arms. He looks delicious. Sex on legs with a tan to die for.Is it all over?
“Hi. Come in. You look great.”There. That didn’t sound too needy, did it?
