She understood her daughter’s concerns, of course she did. Yet something inside her told her that Mark’s instincts were right. Declan was a good man. All the same, she thought this was something her daughter would need to figure out for herself,despite any advice she might give her. At least she was back here now, so could keep her eye on her daughter and granddaughter should anything change.
When they took their seats at a café in the village high street, on which there were more eateries and less shops these days, Carol considered talking to Mark about what Jess had told her, before deciding against it. What would be the point? Besides, it was up to Declan to decide who he should tell about his past, should the need ever arise. Whatever had happened in a person’s life was no one else’s business, thought Carol. Don’t we all have a past?
Carol declined the offer of breakfast and popped the complementary caramel biscuit into her mouth that came with the coffee.
‘So did you say you were back here for good, then?’ asked Mark as he stirred his drink.
‘I am, although I can’t live with Jess forever,’ she told him. ‘In fact, I have already booked an appointment to view an apartment tomorrow. Not far from the beach. And given the situation with the apartment block, at least her and Maisie would have a roof over their head.’
‘Sounds perfect,’ said Mark. He surprised himself by feeling pleased that Carol would be moving back to the area. She really was so easy to talk to. He also tried not to think about his current home being sold. He did have his sister, though, although he wondered if he was too long in the tooth to be sharing a home with someone else, even family.
‘It needs a bit of modernising, although nothing too drastic,’ Carol said positively. ‘A lick of paint, and maybe a more modern shower is pretty much all it requires.’
‘Well, if you need a bit of muscle, I’m your man,’ said Mark, who then felt the colour rise in his cheeks. God, he hoped he wasn’t blushing at his age.
‘I might just take you up on that.’ She winked. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to be getting my hopes up,’ she told him. ‘Although if something is meant to be, it will be. I am a firm believer in that.’
After his wife’s death, and now his mother’s, Mark did not want to sit with his grief any longer. His new friends were so full of life, maybe he ought to try and take a leaf out of their book. At least from time to time.
‘Maybe you’re right.’ He smiled. ‘And I mean it, if you need any help redecorating the flat, I would be happy to help.’
‘Let’s hope I get it, then,’ Carol said with a wink as she tapped her cup against Mark’s. ‘And thanks for the coffee.’
‘My pleasure,’ said Mark with the warmest of smiles and a feeling of optimism for the future.
SIXTY-ONE
DECLAN
Declan was nursing his mug of morning tea and thinking about moving in with his mum. Mark had told him that he was viewing an apartment later and no doubt Jess and Carol were hoping that somewhere suitable would come onto the market soon.
The thought of the friends being scattered across the city broke his heart, but there wasn’t an awful lot he could do about that.
‘Hi, Mum,’ said Declan as he walked into his mum’s home clutching a bunch of her favourite yellow roses.
‘Hello, love,’ said his mum, who looked different. Had she had her hair done? ‘Ooh thanks, love, let me pop those in a vase,’ she said, gratefully accepting the flowers.
Norman appeared from the kitchen then, and pumped Declan’s hand up and down with his usual strong handshake.
‘Now then, young man, how are you?’ He smiled.
‘Good, great in fact.’ The thought of soon being self-employed and taking occupancy of the Liverpool Road office had put a real spring in Declan’s step.
‘Have you found a new apartment yet?’ his mother asked.
‘No, I haven’t, Mum.’
He would sleep in the office if he had to. On a temporary basis at least. There was a large storage room just off the kitchen.
‘So what’s your good news, then?’ Declan asked his mum as he took a seat on the sofa.
‘Let’s have tea first,’ said Norman. ‘There’s a bit of fruit cake too,’ he said, bustling off back to the kitchen.
‘Keeping me in suspense, I see.’ Declan grinned. ‘And you look nice, Mum. Have you had your hair coloured?’
‘I have.’ She smiled. ‘Do you like it?’
‘I do. It takes years off you,’ he told her genuinely.
