Henry and I parted ways once the breakdown van towed Nigella home and back to a garage. He said he was going to go catch a later train. I sense something had changed between us as he looked sad and crestfallen. We said goodbye and he said we would catch up again soon.
Nigella’s tyre has been fixed and she’s back to her usual difficult self. Every time I go swimming, she stalls and the other day she tried to strangle me with the seatbelt outside the supermarket.
I miss Oliver terribly, but I know life must go on. Swimming every day has been a godsend, and it’s now over a week since he left. Miranda has been on cloud nine, as her new younger boyfriend (forty-two) thinks she’s amazing at fifty-five. I am halfway through Mum’s journal, which is full of funny diary entries about Dad and me. There’s been no mention of my curse, and I am starting to doubt whether she even had it.
Eva has been a godsend. She’s been over several times, clutching a plastic bag containing two bottles of wine, a box of tissues and a massive box of chocolates. We’ve had a few lengthy emotional evenings and talking to her about Oliver has helped me a lot. She’s also agreed to move back in to help with the rent. According to her, we’re going to have some fun again, and I am looking forward to it. She is proud of me for starting something with Oliver. According to her, it was an act of bravery.
I have admitted that there are benefits of giving love a chance. With Oliver, there were lots of little pieces of joy. For the first time in my life, I also didn’t feel like the world was hostile.
It’s Sunday. I am pulling up outside Aunt Polly’s house in Tide-Leigh. Last night, she sounded sad on the phone, and I have had a sleepless night worrying about her. She opens the door, and I can see her eyes are pink and puffy. Her woollen hat is pulled down over her bald head, and she’s wearing a dark top and baggy trousers. She looks like a shadow of her former self.
I wrap my arms around her and ignore my vision. The world goes quiet as my vision shows me the tiny padlock on the bracelet. I can feel her sobbing into my chest. My eyes dart across the other photos on the wall of her hallway. A picture on the wall catches my attention. The image shows Hilary and my aunt standing, laughing into the camera. Their eyes sparkle, and Aunt Polly’s smile is stretched wide from ear to ear. It dawns on me that her extra-wide smile is something I haven’t seen on her face for quite some time. Half of me wants to ignore it, but the other half yearns to look closely. I look at the other photos while she sobs, and I see the same wide smile is reserved for Hilary. The biggest clue to Aunt Polly and Hilary’s rift has been here on her hallway wall all along. This was why she’s never taken these photos down. Love has been lingering inside these photos.
I guide her to the sofa and sit her down. ‘Nelly, I used to think I was fine without love – that I could survive being single. But I see now how much it really matters to me. Not just to survive – but to live.’
I look into her eyes, and I can see that she’s still holding on to something. ‘It’s Hilary, isn’t it?’
She’s blinking at me in surprise. ‘I still love her, Nelly. How did you know?’
I explain about the photo album, the letters in the baking drawer and the hallway photos. ‘Why haven’t you contacted her?’
‘I’m scared of what she will think of me in this state.’
I fight back a wave of tears. ‘She loves you though.’
My aunt smiles. ‘I know, but I am now a slightly mad and bald little woman.’
‘You’re still you,’ I say softly, recalling what Amber said about Ben and his choice of photo for Kate’s balloon. He saw past her bald head and her ill state and just saw Kate, who he loved.
An idea unfolds in my mind, and inwardly I groan. I know what I must do. I need to give their love a chance. In my head I can see the faces of Ben, Alice, Juliet, and Mr Ellis. I helped them to give a love a chance and now I must do the same for my aunt.
‘How are you feeling physically today?’
She shrugs. ‘Just a bit tired and sad. Why do you ask?’
‘Get your bag, a blanket and some pillows. Also, any medication you need.’
‘Why?’
‘We’re going out for the day.’
If I tell her we’re going on a road trip, she won’t come. Once I’m on the motorway, she won’t be able to complain.
While she’s getting her bag, I go to the kitchen, pull open the drawer, and find Hilary’s address from one of the letters. I take a picture on my phone.
I fill up some water bottles in her kitchen and grab some biscuits.
At a garage on the outskirts of town, I check Nigella’s tyres, water, and fill her up.
‘Where are we going, Nelly?’ Aunt Polly asks from the back seat. She’s got a pillow and a blanket for if she’s cold.
‘Somewhere nice,’ I say, and pray Hilary is home, as this is a risky trip. If things get too much for Aunt Polly, I will have to turn back. If Hilary isn’t home, I might cry.
Once we’re on the motorway, Aunt Polly falls asleep, and it’s just me, my thoughts, the satnav app on my phone, and Nigella, the car.
I have no idea how this will turn out. I just hope my aunt can handle a long drive and the same again later tonight.
My mind brings up Oliver’s face. I wonder what he’s doing back in London. I hope he’s happier there and less troubled.
