Lottie inwardly sighed but outwardly lifted her head high. ‘All over, thanks. Anthony and I split up.’
‘He never listens,’ said Nicola. ‘I told you about this. Anthony was having an affair with a solicitor? Barrister?’ She looked to Lottie for confirmation.
‘Barrister,’ Lottie confirmed, ignoring the embarrassed faces around the table as they all tried their hardest not to look at her. She concentrated on her dinner.
Nicola continued, undeterred. ‘Lottie dumped him and he sacked her. Understandable really. Far too difficult to work together after that.’
‘And Lottie has more pride than that. She doesn’t need a man like Anthony. Or any man for that matter. She’s always been someone who can stand up to life on her own,’ said Angie. Lottie blinked at her mother and her rare show of support. Angie gave a brief nod of understanding.
‘What are you doing for a job now?’ asked Nicola, turning to Lottie. All eyes followed.
‘Nothing at the moment. I’m thinking I might retrain.’ Her marketing degree had taken her firmly down the corporate route and she needed a change. The only positive of splitting up with Anthony was that it had enabledLottie to spend time with Nana, and as it turned out, that time had been particularly precious, as nobody except Nana knew those would be her last few months. During that time Lottie had relaxed and taken time to reassess a few things. At twenty-seven she had thought herself set on a path; Nana had seen it from a different perspective. She had made Lottie feel that she was young enough to change her mind. That she had plenty of time to strike out in a different direction; to reinvent herself, if that was what she wanted to do. Lottie had decided that it was what she wanted, although sadly Nana had died before they had managed to work out exactly what that different direction might be. And that was the really tricky bit – her path was as undecided as a butterfly’s.
‘When you say retraining, does that mean you’re thinking of going back to uni?’ asked Zach.
‘Good idea,’ said Nicola. ‘Because when we sell the house, you’ll need somewhere to live.’ Zach was glaring at her. ‘What? I’m just being practical.’ She buttered her roll diligently.
‘A place like this will take ages to sell,’ said Zach, giving his sister a reassuring smile despite the death stares from his mother and uncle.
‘I hope so,’ said Lottie. ‘I’m not sure about the practicalities yet – I’ve a few ideas but nothing firm. But talking of uni, how are you getting on, Rhys?’ She was keen to turn the attention away from herself. He was studying Archaeology at Cambridge, as Aunt Nicola liked to drop into conversation at any and every opportunity.
Rhys seemed to freeze as the spotlight turned on him. ‘Okay, thanks.’ He bit into a sausage roll and that seemed to be the end of that conversation.
‘He’s too modest. Aren’t you, Rhys? He’s on for a first.I mean, a first from Cambridge and he’ll have the world at his feet.’
‘Mum!’ Rhys appeared to be shrinking with embarrassment.
‘You should be proud,’ she said. Nicola took a sip of wine and studied the glass. ‘These are pretty.’ Nobody engaged. ‘Daniel, we need new wine glasses.’
‘Why? Did you wear the others out?’ asked Daniel and an amused titter rippled around the room.
Someone at the front door tugged at the bell pull, and Lottie and Rhys both breathed a sigh of relief. Lottie got up to answer it, but Bernard must have been woken by the bell as he and his speedy wheelchair beat her to it.
Lottie was pleased to see that it had stopped raining. Standing on the step was the estate agent.
‘Hello,’ said Lottie. ‘Did you want to come in?’ It was still bitterly cold outside.
‘No, thanks. I’m not stopping. You’re on my way home and I’ve just taken a call so I thought, as it’s Christmas, I’d deliver the good news direct.’
‘Good news?’ Those words seemed to her to be in opposition. Lottie was aware of the others joining her and Bernard in the hallway.
The estate agent straightened his shoulders. ‘We’ve had an offer on the house. Full asking price.’ His eyes shone with glee as he spoke. ‘Cash buyer so there’s no chain. This place will be off your hands in no time.’
‘That’s fantastic news,’ said Angie, clapping her hands together.
‘No chance of anyone else being interested? An opportunity for a bidding war?’ asked Uncle Daniel and the estate agent twitched a fraction and shook his head. ‘Oh, well.’
‘Shall I confirm that you’ve accepted their offer?’ Theestate agent was leaning precariously forward in anticipation.
‘Yes,’ said Angie and Daniel together.
Lottie struggled to find her voice. ‘Who’s bought it?’
‘I think it’s a company. I’ve only got a contact name. We’ll sort out all the paperwork in the new year and we’ll know a bit more then. Right, I’m off. Merry Christmas.’
Everyone seemed to be congratulating each other and they moved off to the drawing room. Lottie heard a cork pop and a cheer go up. She didn’t move; she was in shock. Apparently it was the day for shocks. Uncle Bernard buzzed his chair forwards and shut the front door, reversed back and took hold of Lottie’s hand. ‘It’ll be okay, Button. You’ll see. Fresh start for all of us, hey?’
She dug deep. If Uncle Bernie could be positive when he was facing being homeless at seventy-two, she knew she should be making more of an effort. Although it wasn’t the fact she was going to be homeless that had winded her; it was the thought that this house – Nana’s house – would be lost forever. The one constant thing in her life would be gone.
