Amelia Grey's Fireside Dream (8 page)

‘But how do you feel?’ Carly repeated.

‘I feel excited.’

‘Good things are just around the corner for you,’ Carly said. ‘I know it.’

*

The next fortnight seemed to pass in a blur. I went through the motions in my classes, struggling to get my head around the fact that they’d have a new teacher come September, and I’d be … well, for the first time in my life I didn’t know what I’d be doing.

On Saturday I was woken by our doorbell ringing. When I peered through the spyhole I could see our postman standing on the doormat next to a delivery man. I opened the door to them.

‘I couldn’t get this one through the letter box,’ the postman said, passing me the Jiffy bag and then a stack of envelopes.

‘And these are for you too,’ the delivery man said, handing over a bouquet of red, pink and white roses. ‘Happy birthday. I’m guessing that’s what it might be?’

‘It is,’ I said. ‘And thank you.’

I closed the door and went back into the flat. ‘Look what—’ I started to say, and then spotted Jack in the kitchen. He’d laid the table for us, with a bunch of stargazer lilies in the middle, and was cooking pancakes at the stove. My hand went to my mouth.

‘This is lovely,’ I said, going over and squeezing him around the waist.

‘Well, you deserve it,’ he said. ‘Although it looks like someone might have outdone me.’ He pointed to the gifts I’d just received.

‘The flowers will be from Mum, I’m sure,’ I said, checking the gift card.

To Amelia – on your thirtieth. Have a very happy day.
Love from Mum x

‘And the package?’ Jack asked, flipping a pancake up into the air and catching it effortlessly.

‘I’m not sure.’ The handwriting looked very much like Dad’s, but his gifts didn’t usually arrive until a day or two after my birthday. I ripped open the Jiffy bag.

Inside was a black velvet jewellery box. I flicked it open and two delicate silver drop earrings caught the morning sunlight.

‘Wow,’ Jack said, putting the pancake onto a plate and turning to look. I knew what he was thinking: Dad still hadn’t paid us back the money he owed us – but this was different.

I checked for a card inside the package and found a small one, with a ballerina picture on the front.

To Bellissima Amelia on your big b’day.
Have fun and bottoms up! Lots of love, Dad x

I held up the earrings and felt a lump come to my throat. They were absolutely gorgeous.

*

‘You ready?’ Jack asked later that evening, scanning my turquoise dress and the earrings Dad had sent me, which fell elegantly almost to my shoulders.

I nodded and then, looking in the hallway mirror, added a white flower to my hair. ‘Now, done.’

‘You look gorgeous,’ Jack said, kissing me. ‘And not a day over twenty-nine.’

I punched him gently on the arm, and he led me out the front door.

We arrived at the Florence, and I expected at least to see Carly and Sunita, but I could only spot a few familiar faces milling around the bar: regulars at the pub, not my friends.

‘You did tell people it was here, didn’t you?’ I asked Jack nervously.

‘Oh crap, I completely forgot.’ Jack slapped a hand to his forehead. I saw the ghost of a smile appear at the corner of his mouth. ‘Come out here and take a look,’ he said, leading me out of a door at the back.

I could hear the buzz from the beer garden as soon as we opened the door – and when I looked out the place had been transformed. The trellis was strung with white fairy lights and paper lanterns in green and orange, and each of the wooden tables up on the decking was covered with
Mexican striped tablecloths. It was a warm summer’s night, and there was a clear sky overhead; the stars shone through the city smog.

A colourful banner was strung up on the wooden fence

Happy 30
^th
Amelia!

‘Did you do all this?’ I said, turning to look at Jack.

He shrugged. ‘I might have. With a little help from the fairies.’ He nodded over at Sunita and Carly, who were looking at us from the far side of the garden.

Sunita brought over a tray of cupcakes decorated with green icing, candles burning on the central three cakes, and greeted me with a kiss. ‘Happy birthday, sweetheart. The green’s meant to represent the countryside,’ she explained. ‘I didn’t realize it was going to look gross. I think I put too much food colouring in.’

A chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ started up and I blew out the candles and took a cake for myself. Like everything Sunita made, it was delicious. ‘They taste far better than they look,’ I said.

I passed the tray to Jack and Nico.

‘You’ll come down the Go-Kart track next week, won’t you?’ Nico said to Jack, taking a cake from me with a smile. ‘I’m going to close it to the public so it’s open just for friends – a sort of baby shower.’

‘A baby shower?’ Jack said.

‘Yes. Well, with me and Suni not married yet I never got to have a stag, so I thought we could have one now instead. You’re up for it, aren’t you?’

‘I know,’ Sunita said, nodding over at them, ‘any excuse for these guys, eh? Can I get you some Prosecco?’

‘Thanks.’ I walked with her to the bar.

‘He’s already been on the sambuca, and he’s supposed to be working early tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Watch he doesn’t drag your husband into that.’

‘I should have known I could count on you guys to get the party started.’ I laughed.

‘Yes,’ Sunita said. ‘Although Nico’s drinking my units tonight.’

Carly made her way over to us. Sunita put a glass of fizz in my hand.

‘Got you a little pressie,’ Suni said, passing me a gift bag. I opened the parcels carefully – a delicate cream and china blue blouse from Reiss and a matching necklace.

‘Thanks, Suni,’ I said, giving her a hug.

‘Clothes shopping for other people is a whole lot more fun than trying to find something I can squeeze into.’

‘And a little something from me too,’ Carly said, passing me a carefully wrapped blue package.

Inside was a pretty scrapbook, and an illustrated book on vintage-style interior decoration I’d been going on about to her.

‘I thought the scrapbook might be useful for mood boards
and things, when you’re planning how to do up the house.’

‘That’s a lovely idea,’ I said, giving her a hug in thanks. Flicking through the decorating book, I felt a rush of excitement – I couldn’t wait to get started adding the touches and polishes that would really make the cottage ours.

‘St Catherine’s won’t be the same,’ Carly said. ‘I still can’t believe you’re really going.’

‘We’ll only be an hour away, and we’ll have plenty of room for you both to stay over. You can give yourselves a weekend trip to the countryside.’

‘So much change going on at the moment,’ Carly said. ‘Why do you all insist on changing your lives so much? I was quite happy with things the way they were.’

*

‘Byeee!’ I called out to the last of the revellers at our party, as Jack and I made an exit just after midnight. It had been a brilliant evening and send-off, catching up with old friends and making plans for them to come and visit.

A little worse for the wear, we made our way home, recounting conversations we’d had with people during the night.

‘And in September—’ Jack said.

‘We’re going to be all settled in our new home!’ I said excitedly. I didn’t mind at all that when we got home that night it would be to a flat full of cardboard boxes. We were taking steps towards a new life together.

‘I can’t wait,’ Jack said, smiling. ‘I thought you were nuts at first, but I have to hand it to you, this was a good idea.’

‘Glad you agree. And when I’ve got a job again it’ll seem like an even better one.’ I gave him a smile. Yes, things would be stretched for a while, but there was no going back – since I’d given in my resignation I’d felt free, light. I might have just turned thirty, but I felt younger than ever.

When we got home, Jack took out his mobile phone and put it on the side as we got ready for bed.

I noticed the answerphone icon on his screen. ‘You’ve got a message,’ I said, pulling my pyjamas on and realizing I had the trousers on back to front.

‘Really?’ he said. ‘I haven’t checked it all evening actually. Probably work.’

As he rang through to check his message, I put on my pyjama shirt and did the buttons up slowly. I still felt a glow from the evening we’d had. I was so touched by the presents Sunita and Carly had picked out for me. All in all, entering my thirties felt pretty good so far.

‘Shit,’ Jack said, his eyes flicking up to look at me as he listened to the message all the way through. ‘Shit, crap, bollocks,’ he added.

‘What? What is it?’ I said, startled.

He put the phone down. ‘That was the bank. A message from this afternoon. It’s not good news.’

‘I guessed that,’ I said, my heart racing. ‘What’s going on?’

‘There’s a problem.’

My breath caught in my throat. This could not be happening. We were moving. To the country. And someone else was moving into our flat. It was all organized, it was all ready.

Jack looked at me. ‘They’ve reconsidered our mortgage application in light of your resignation. It’s been rejected.’

Sunday, 9 June

With a mug of tea in one hand and a couple of paracetamol in the other to soothe my hangover, I looked around at our kitchen – its crummy peeling cabinets, tired grey lino flooring, and tiny windows looking out onto the train track – and fought back tears.

How had our countryside dream disappeared just like that, in an instant? One moment we were all set to move into a cottage where I knew we could have been really happy, and now we were back at square one, stuck here.

What choices did Jack and I have now that the cottage had fallen through? Pull out of the sale of our place and stay in Hackney, even though I no longer had my job at the school keeping me there? Let down our buyers and risk not finding new ones?

Jack and I had spent a restless night in bed. My mind had been whirring – why couldn’t I have just stuck it out one more term? Could we have got away with not telling the bank about me leaving my job? Our cottage, the home that was destined for us, was now out of our reach, and in two months we’d be handing over our flat too. If we didn’t make a decision soon, we could end up homeless.

I couldn’t sit around moping today though, and that was probably a good thing. I’d arranged to meet Sunita in Oxford Street at ten, so I had to pull myself together. She needed help with doing some baby shopping and had promised me waffles at the cafe in John Lewis afterwards. There’s very little I won’t do for a waffle.

I downed the pills with the dregs of my tea and then washed up my mug. Some fresh air would do me good. In our bedroom I put on a loose, orange silk top and slim black jeans with bronze pumps and slipped my phone and wallet into my handbag. I took a quick look at myself in the mirror. My hair was a bit of a mess – with the frenzy of the last few weeks at work I hadn’t had it cut for a couple of months, and there were dark shadows under my eyes from the unsettled night.

I got a bus and then the tube into town, and found Sunita waiting for me at the doorway of the department store. ‘Morning,’ she said. ‘God, Amelia, you look dreadful.’

‘Thanks.’ I frowned.

‘Sorry. But you do look tired. You didn’t even seem that drunk last night.’

‘It’s not that,’ I said, blowing air out of my cheeks. ‘It’s the cottage. Everything’s fallen through, Suni.’

We walked through the fragrance department and I filled her in on what had happened when Jack and I got home the previous night.

‘That’s terrible. What a massive bummer.’

‘I know. I should have seen it coming. I think I was just fooling myself that it would all work out – I’d get a new job, or they’d take a chance on us.’

‘Not sure mortgage lenders are big on taking chances on people any more,’ Suni said. ‘I’m so sorry, hon. Are you sure you’re still up for today?’

‘Yes, it’s fine. It’s good to have something else to focus on.’ I took a breath to steady my nerves. Talking about the cottage had brought all that emotion back, and I really didn’t want to cry.

‘It’s good to have some company. Nico’s not really been the best at helping get us organized.’ There was a trace of strain on her face.

The two of us spent several hours idling around the baby department on the third floor, picking out woodland animal nursery decorations, a baby monitor, a car seat and a Moses basket. Plus an activity mat and some bootees I couldn’t resist getting Suni as a gift.

At about three, my stomach started to growl. ‘Suni, not that I’m not having fun, but didn’t you say something about waffles?’

‘Waffles!’ she said, a light going on in her eyes. ‘Of course. God, how has it come to this, that I’m more focused on expensive travel systems than carbohydrates and cream with you? Sorry. Let’s go to the cafe before I lose my mind completely.’

A quarter of an hour later we were in a window seat overlooking the crowds on Oxford Street, with two plates of waffles, whipped cream and strawberries between us.

‘Thanks for coming today, Amelia. It wouldn’t have been as much fun without you.’

‘No worries. What are friends for?’ I said with a smile. ‘I’m happy to help out with this stuff, but not sure how much use I’ll be on the night feeds.’

‘True,’ Sunita said. ‘Hopefully Nico will be more of a support then. I’m hoping something will click when the baby’s here.’

‘Nerves?’

‘I think so. He’s excited. But yes, nervous too. He had a nightmare about delivering the baby himself in Sainsbury’s, and since then he’s paled a bit whenever we talk about the birth.’

‘I bet he’ll be brilliant on the day.’

‘We’ll see. What about Jack? Is he still clucky?’

‘Yes,’ I said, breaking off a chunk of waffle with my fork and adding a bit of cream and a slice of strawberry to it. ‘You should see him when he talks about you two. But you know Jack – I’m sure next month he’ll have moved on to something else.’

‘And that’s what you want? For him to forget about it?’

‘To be honest, yes.’