Page 24

My phone rings early the next morning, catapulting me out of bed after a sleepless night. I couldn’t settle for wondering what to do about the offer on the farm, which has come from Scarlett Legend and Luke.

I find the phone on a chair under the pile of clothes I took off last night. It’s the estate agent from the other agency, the one I’m buying from.

‘Sorry to ring early, but the building company selling the flat you’ve put the deposit on wants to know if you’re ready to proceed. There was another viewing this week. The other buyers are in a strong position . . . if you don’t think you’re going to be able to go ahead.’

I sit in stunned silence on the edge of my high wooden bed. It took me ages to get used to sleeping in it without Paddy. Now that he isn’t here, I creep across to the middle of it and starfish like I know he would have wanted me to.

‘The buyer is keen to get the deal done, as I know you are . . .’

‘I am,’ I say firmly. ‘And I’ve put a deposit down. A large one.’

‘Which holds the property for you until the end of the year. After that, as you were made aware, the flat will go back on the market and you’ll forfeit your deposit.’

He lets the sentence sit in the silence that follows.

I swallow, then say quickly, ‘I’ve got a cash buyer for my place. They want to move in swiftly. They want to be in by Christmas, actually . . .’ It crosses my mind that I’ll have to buy a bed for Willow and make sure he’s got his own chest of drawers so that he still feels at home. ‘. . . So I’m ready to go now.’

At least that decision has been made for me: I’m going to have to accept Scarlett and Luke’s offer. It will mean I’m settled, and Willow will be able to visit once he has a new family. He’ll know where I am.

I take a deep breath. It’ll be a bit of a squeeze for me and Willow in the new flat, but we’ll make it work somehow. At least it’ll be mine, and just what I need when Willow does finally find his new forever home. We’ll both be settled in our new homes.

‘Tell them to go ahead with the paperwork, and I’ll get you my solicitor’s details. I’ll be in by Christmas.’

I finish the call and head out of my bedroom. Tegan comes halfway up the stairs to meet me, and I pause to look in on Willow before I go down. Now all I have to do is work out how to tell him about the flat, and what life will look like there until his new family are found. Tell him we’re going to buy him a new bed that will have drawers under it. It will be small in the box room, but we’ll make it work. No more old drawers that stick when you push them in and have to be jiggled up and down to help them shut. I need him to feel that this is a good idea.

I think I need to talk to Lara, so I dial her number.

‘Hello!’ says Lara later that afternoon, arriving into the kitchen in her smart clothes, clearly straight from the office. ‘This looks . . .’ She looks at me with a questioning smile, ‘Like progress.’

She surveys the mess on the kitchen table. I wish it felt like progress. Inside, I feel like a washing machine going round and round.

‘I thought it might be fun to have a go at making something Willow would really like to eat, but it’s turning out to be a lot more challenging than anything I usually cook.’

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ she says, sliding off her coat, ‘and then we can talk about everything.’

As the kettle boils, we all hear the distinctive rumble of an engine coming up the drive and turn to look. Willow runs, his fingers still sticky, and kneels on the sofa with Tegan next to him up on her hind legs, both looking eagerly out of the window. Willow is smiling and Tegan is wagging her tail.

‘Come in!’ I call out as there’s a knock on the door. I wave, my hands covered in lumpy batter.

As the farmhouse door opens, a gust of early winter wind blows in with leaves swirling and circling. It’s as if winter is pushing autumn out, but autumn is reluctant to leave, like a guest outstaying their welcome at a party.

‘Horse!’ Willow leaps from the sofa, throws himself at Horse and hugs him hard. Horse does that lovely laugh, throwing back his head, and I can see his Adam’s apple under his silver beard.

‘Well, what’s going on in here?’ He looks at the table. ‘Hello Gwen, Lara – I hope this is okay. You did say to pop by any time I was passing. I wanted to see how Will was settling.’

‘Yes, of course it’s okay,’ I say, wiping my hands and reaching across to turn down the radio that’s playing in the background on the worn wooden dresser. ‘We’re attempting onion bhajis,’ I explain, laughing. ‘Actually, I found Willow attempting to cook these on his own and had to jump in. I don’t know much about nine-year-olds, other than being one once, but I’m fairly sure they shouldn’t be standing on a chair over a pot of hot fat.’

‘See, you have all the natural instincts you need,’ says Lara. ‘And now you’re cooking, too!’

‘I’m not the best cook, as you will have realized. But Willow says this is one of his favourites. Well, pakoras and samosas are his favourites, but we found this recipe in the supermarket for bhajis, on the little cards they have there with photographs of how it’s supposed to turn out.’

‘Ah, yes. So he’s still got a taste for spice,’ Horse chuckles.

Lara looks surprised. ‘I didn’t know you liked spicy food, Willow?’

Willow smiles and looks down.

‘I can throw some light on that,’ says Horse. I’m still trying to get the mix off my fingers, but it’s stubborn. ‘He always enjoyed cooking with Ayesha when he lived there. He loved her food.’