‘Found it!’ Saffy burst into the room, holding a charger high in her hand. ‘It was at the bottom of the laundry basket. No idea how it got in there.’ She plugged her phone into a spare socket.
‘Is your bedroom trashed?’ Paulette asked.
‘No! Well, maybe a little bit.’
‘Then how about you go back upstairs and sort that out?’
‘Okay.’ Saffy pulled the plug out of the wall.
‘Has your phone suddenly sprouted hands?’ Paulette asked. ‘No? Then I think it can stay where it is, don’t you, because it’s going to be no help tidying?’
Saffy plugged it back in and I wondered for a moment if she was going to sulk but she smiled when she looked up. ‘You know me too well, Grandma.’
‘Teenagers,’ Paulette muttered after Saffy left the room again.
I smiled politely but didn’t say anything. With no children and no nephews or nieces in my life, my only insight into teenagers came from television programmes and films.
We chatted for a little longer, Paulette sharing some tension-free moments from her Christmas away and I complimented her on how beautifully decorated her home was. By the time Saffy reappeared, I’d finished my drink and was ready to head off.
‘It’s been lovely seeing you,’ Paulette said as we reached her front door, ‘and thank you again for the beautiful quilt. I’m going to cherish that.’
‘You’re welcome. Couldn’t think of a better home for it. Hope you and Saffy enjoy your Chinese tonight.’
‘Oh, we will! You enjoy your evening too.’
As she reached for the door handle, I felt bad that I hadn’t offered any sort of explanation for turning her invitation down.
‘About tonight. It would have been lovely, but?—’
She raised her hands, stopping me. ‘You don’t need to explain anything. I could tell from your expression that it wasn’t right for you. New Year can be a strange and emotional time when the person you used to spend it with is no longer around.’
‘It’s more than that. It’s when Cliff died.’
‘Oh, Yvonne! I didn’t realise.’
‘You weren’t to know. I’ve spent a lot of time over the years longing for company, but New Year is the one time when I need to be by myself.’
‘Will you be all right?’
‘I’ll be fine. I’ve got my TV viewing planned and some nice food. I would like to take a raincheck on a Chinese, though.’
‘Good. At the first meeting back, we’ll put a date in the diary.’
She gave me another hug and we wished each other all the best for the forthcoming year before waving goodbye.
Driving back to Pippinthwaite, I wondered whether I should have stepped outside my comfort zone and accepted Paulette’s invitation to stay – for the Chinese rather than overnight – but it was too late now. Should I go back? My gut said no. I wasn’t quite ready yet but I felt close. This would be the last New Year’s Eve I spent on my own, mourning not just the loss of Cliff but also the life I could have had if I’d been brave enough to go for it. A life with another man. Will.
10
Another year dawned and I lay in bed for several minutes listening to the wind outside, hurling bits of broken twig and leaves at the window. Today was officially five years since Cliff’s death, although it was possible it had been late on New Year’s Eve when he left us.
During our thirty-three-year marriage, we’d never ventured out on New Year’s Eve. We’d booked a table in a restaurant for our first New Year’s Eve as a married couple but I’d come down with a horrendous cold and couldn’t face it. Cliff had made me a mulled winefor medicinal purposesand had challenged me to a game of chess. Our chess skills (or perhaps lack of them) were evenly matched so it was always enjoyable playing together. The game took my mind off how ill I felt and I’d admitted afterwards that it had been the best New Year I’d ever had, despite feeling lousy. We’d concluded we preferred spending quality time together at home rather than going out so chess and wine became our New Year’s Eve tradition.
We usually played the best of three games. By 11p.m. five years ago, we were at one win each but my eyes were heavy and there was no way I could focus on another game or stay up until midnight. I’d been struck down with flu over Christmas and, while I was on the mend, the fatigue lingered. Cliff hadn’t long since topped up his glass so he said he’d clear the board away then see in midnight with the rest of his drink. I’d been playing white and he picked up the white queen he’d toppled and held her up.
‘I’ll keep you with me for company. Sleep well and see you next year.’
But he didn’t see me again.
