After calling Ollie to tell him what I’m doing, then speaking to Mary, now that moving is no longer at some indeterminate time in the future, I busy myself packing up what I want to store in the garage at Mary’s, she’s said I can use, leaving the rest for a house clearance company.
On Saturday afternoon, Ollie comes over. Surveying the almost empty rooms, he looks amazed. ‘You haven’t wasted any time, have you?’
‘I thought I may as well get on with it.’ There doesn’t seem any sense in delaying it.
‘What are you going to do with Dad’s stuff?’ he asks.
‘There isn’t much of it left,’ I say. ‘But I’ll pack it up and he can collect it after I’ve gone.’
As I watch Ollie, for the first time, I see the effect that this house has on him, affirmed when he says, ‘I won’t be sorry to never come back here.’
‘I’m so sorry, Oll.’ I berate myself for not realising as, never far away, my guilt is back. ‘I honestly didn’t know how you felt about coming here.’ But I should have guessed.
‘Don’t be,’ he says. ‘After we moved out, Lexie and I both realised that it was Dad who was the problem, rather than us.’ He pauses. ‘I’ve never said this before, but you were really brave, Mum.’
‘I don’t think I was.’ Tears prick my eyes. I should have listened to my instincts; to the strongest of them, to protect my children. ‘I should have done it much sooner,’ I tell him. ‘You and Lexie went through far too much. I let you down.’ I frown, remembering. ‘I had this misguided notion that because we were a family, we were better off staying together. But we weren’t.’
‘Moving changed so much,’ Ollie says. ‘Not least because Lexie and I felt you were listening to us.’ He pauses. ‘That was when you started growing flowers.’
‘It was. For the record, I always listened,’ I say quickly. But it’s only half the story. ‘At the same time, I suppose I tried to listen to your father, too. I was always looking for a way to make everyone happy.’
‘But none of us were,’ Ollie says. ‘Dad certainly wasn’t. I don’t suppose he ever will be. Terrible, isn’t it, to say that about someone?’ He pauses. ‘I know it was my decision to cut off contact with him. But it doesn’t mean I don’t think about him. You were right, how you described his addiction. It’s an illness.’
‘It is,’ I say sadly. ‘That was always the problem. And there is no magical cure. That was partly why I found it hard to leave him. It seemed wrong to desert him because of a problem he had no control over. But I knew I had to, for your and Lexie’s sakes. He was taking all of us down with him.’ I pause. ‘It might have been different if he’d done something to try and help himself, like going back to AA. But he chose not to – I think it was too hard for him.’
‘It must have felt impossible at times,’ Ollie says.
‘It wasn’t easy.’ There were times it pushed me to the limit. ‘And in a way, it still isn’t. I still worry about him. But back then, I had to think of you and Lexie.’ I pause, looking at Ollie. ‘I never stopped reminding myself how lucky I was to have you both. Probably a bit how you feel now.’ Thinking of Harrie, I try to lighten the mood. ‘I can’t believe we haven’t had this conversation before.’
‘Me neither.’ Ollie smiles, a ghost of a smile. ‘Can I just say thanks, Mum?’ He kisses me on the cheek. ‘What you did changed my life.’
‘I’m glad.’ I’m silent for a moment. ‘I’ve wished so many times it could have done the same for Lexie.’
Ollie frowns slightly. ‘It did, Mum.’
And so it is that the following weekend, with Ollie’s help, I take what’s left of my possessions to Mary’s.
‘I remember you when you were a teenager,’ she says to Ollie. ‘And now, Edie tells me you’re a father.’
‘That’s right.’ Ollie smiles at her. ‘I have a daughter. Harrie. Perhaps I could bring her to meet you sometime?’
Mary’s face lights up. ‘I would love that.’
Leading us through the house, she shows me and Ollie into what she calls the east wing. It is actually a fairly small annex but it comprises a sitting room with a staircase up to a bedroom and its own bathroom.
‘Awfully grand, I know.’ Her eyes twinkle. ‘I must say I’ve always liked this part of the house.’ She goes over to the arched stone window that looks out across the garden. ‘The views of the sun rising are magical,’ she says. Then she looks around. ‘I’m afraid it’s a little dusty in here.’
‘It’s lovely,’ I say. ‘Isn’t it, Ollie?’
‘It’s amazing.’ He gazes around, taking it all in. ‘It’s incredible, Mum,’ he says when Mary leaves us alone. ‘I never imagined you’d have all this.’
‘Me neither,’ I say quietly.
Ollie helps me carry my stuff in. Then later, after he leaves, I take some groceries I’ve bought to the kitchen.
Sitting at the table, Mary turns to beam at me. ‘How are you settling in?’
‘I haven’t unpacked yet. But it’s gorgeous, Mary. I thought I’d unpack this food and cook us something.’
