‘She’s waking up.’ Reaching forward, Ollie adjusts Harrie’s blanket. ‘I keep having to pinch myself. I still can’t believe I have a daughter.’
‘You’ll get used to it. It’s a whole new chapter, isn’t it,’ I say wonderingly, ‘being a parent?’
‘And a grandparent.’ Ollie nudges my elbow, then glances at his watch. ‘Jenna will be missing her. Do you think we should take her home?’
Having a granddaughter is bittersweet; utterly joyous; I can’t help but be reminded of you.
‘They are amazing parents,’ I tell Lucy.
‘Of course they are,’ she says. ‘Why wouldn’t they be?’
As if she has to ask. ‘Not everyone is,’ I remind her. ‘And Ollie didn’t have the best role model.’
‘Oh, hush.’ Coming over, she kisses me on the cheek. ‘He did, Edes. He had you.’ As she stands there, a look of panic crosses her face. ‘Shit. I completely forgot. It’s the next instalment of our TV wedding.’
‘Oh no.’ My heart misses a beat. ‘It can’t be. Not today.’
Lucy’s already leafing frantically through our diary. ‘Thank fuck,’ she breathes. ‘It’s the day after tomorrow.’
‘This cannot happen again,’ I tell her. ‘I can’t take the stress. We need a wall calendar that neither of us can miss.’
‘Above the kettle,’ Lucy suggests, ‘so that we look at it several times a day.’ She pauses. ‘We don’t have enough flowers for the cameras.’
‘That’s fine,’ I say. ‘As one of our best growers, I know exactly where to find them.’
I drive over to Mary’s garden. Parking, I get out, taking a moment to savour the peace. Going in, I cut more narcissi and tulips, lengths of hazel from which clusters of catkins hang; bunches of sweet-scented hyacinths. All of it fits Elisa’s seasonal, local brief, and it crosses my mind that maybe we should invite the cameras to come and film here, too.
Once I’ve finished, I stand here thinking how much I’ve come to love this place. How as well as growing flowers here, it’s become a place where I can be alone with my thoughts; where I can breathe.
‘Edie?’ A voice calls out.
I turn to see Mary picking her way across the garden. ‘Hello!’ I raise a hand, waiting for her to come closer.
Reaching me, she looks more frail than last time I saw her as she gazes across the flowerbeds. ‘I do love this time of year, watching everything come to life.’ She studies the flowers I’ve cut. ‘Those narcissi are just so perfect.’
Reaching down, I pick up a few of them and give them to her.
‘I still have those tulips you gave me last time.’ She holds them to her nose. ‘These smell heavenly, don’t they?’
I notice an air of distraction about her. ‘How are you, Mary?’
‘Well…’ She hesitates. ‘Oh dear. I really didn’t want to say this.’ When she looks troubled, a feeling of unease comes over me. ‘Edie, I have some bad news. I’ve been putting off telling you – but I’m going to have to sell the house.’
Today is a busy day, but this is important. It’s also the first time I’ve seen Mary look worried. In her kitchen, I make us both a cup of tea, then take them over to the table where she’s sitting.
‘Where are you planning to move to?’ I ask.
‘I don’t know.’ She looks unhappy. ‘My grandson is looking into places. He’s going to draw up a shortlist and we’ll go to visit them together.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ It’s been her home for sixty years. I know what a blow it will be to leave here.
‘I don’t want to go.’ She looks troubled. ‘But he says the house is far too much for me. And he’s right.’
I glance around the kitchen that used to be neat as a pin, and it could do with cleaning. ‘It’s a big place,’ I say carefully. ‘I know it’s none of my business, but…’ I pause. ‘If you don’t want to move, couldn’t you find someone to live-in and help you?’
‘I thought about that.’ She gazes at me. ‘Home care is expensive, Edie. I have some savings – enough to cover a year or so. But after that, it would leave me with the same problem.’
I wonder if someone is putting pressure on her to move. But it’s as though she reads my mind.
