Back in the stables, Lucy and I busy ourselves preparing flowers for a small winter wedding. It’s my favourite kind, with winter-flowering bulbs coming into bud, silvery eucalyptus, delicate twigs, with the bride carrying a small posy of ranunculus and winter jasmine.
‘Do you think she’s OK?’ Lucy asks, meaning Mary.
‘I’m not sure.’ I’m silent for a moment. ‘She put up a bit of a fight about having tests.’
‘No one likes the idea that something’s wrong, do they?’ Lucy says. ‘It’s just as well you’re there to look after her.’
‘I was feeling like a bit of an imposter,’ I say. ‘She’s seemed fine until now.’ But over the last few days, her frailty has shown.
At the weekend, I go to see Ollie, Jenna and Harrie. It’s impossible to believe that nine months have passed since she came into the world. But a lot has happened in that time.
‘She’s grown since I last saw her.’ I gaze at my granddaughter in astonishment as she holds out her hands towards me.
‘She’s nearly walking,’ Jenna says. ‘It’s slightly terrifying! Nothing will be safe!’
I remember those days with Ollie and you, putting away everything within reach. ‘You get used to it,’ I say. ‘Now.’ Crouching down, I hold out my arms to Harrie. ‘Come and say hello.’
I watch her as she crawls towards me along the floor and onto my lap, then scoop her into a hug in another of those gorgeous moments when I’m reminded what matters most.
As November morphs into December, a winter storm scatters the last of the leaves from the trees, after which the temperature drops. Lucy and I start planning for our Christmas orders and I take Mary for her tests, while Ryan’s results come back.
‘It’s not as bad as I thought it might be.’ He sounds oddly unelated.
‘That’s great, isn’t it?’ I say. ‘I’m pleased for you, Ryan.’
‘I thought I’d feel like I had a whole new lease of life,’ he says.
I can’t help but feel exasperated. ‘If that’s what you really want, then for goodness’ sake, get out there and look for it!’
Having assumed Mary would talk to Joe, I’m surprised to find out she hasn’t. ‘I know what you said, but I don’t want to worry him,’ she insists.
‘I’m sorry, but if I was Joe, I would want to know you’re having tests.’ I look at her. ‘Let me call him.’
Reluctantly, she agrees and I call him and fill him in.
‘I’ll try to come down this weekend,’ he says, ‘if that’s OK with you both?’
Mary, of course, is delighted at the thought of seeing her grandson, while for some reason, I find myself looking forward to seeing him, too.
I know I rant a lot, but there are some nice people in the world, Mum, I remember you saying once. You’d wished there were more of them. That they would stand united, find a way to be a force for good.
You were one of a relatively small number, weren’t you, Lexie? All of you impassioned, tireless in your efforts. Since, I’ve wondered if there’s the beginning of a sea change in our human development; if you were part of it, a movement that’s slowly gathering momentum as more people become educated about the toughest of realities that the rest of us would rather turn away from.
Being here when you were, you saw the worst of what we’re capable of; had a clear vision of how the best could look. However much you told yourself you failed, there’s no question that your life counted, Lexie.
And it still does. More and more I find myself drawn the way you went. To be part of that movement in some shape or form; to find a way to do more.
When Joe comes down on Friday morning, leaving Mary safe in his company, Lucy and I go to deliver our wedding flowers.
‘He’s nice, isn’t he?’ Lucy says.
‘Yes.’ I glance at her sideways; I know that look. And Joe is really nice. ‘He’s also married. And I have no interest in meeting anyone.’ Nor am I sure I ever will be.
‘All I said was he’s nice.’ Lucy gives me a knowing look.
But Joe is good company and that evening, I cook for the three of us as Mary regales us with stories of the comings and goings at the house over the years.
‘Edie and Lucy are decorating it for Christmas,’ she tells Joe. ‘I hope you and Isla are going to join us – and Tara, obviously.’ There’s clearly not a lot of love lost between Mary and Joe’s wife.
