Learning to Dance Again (19 page)

‘It sounds a bit like a sickly sweet Christmas movie plot,’ Julia replied.

‘Actually it sounds like lots of hard work, but I imagine you’re not afraid of that.’

That evening Julia was sitting in her bedroom reading one of Tony’s novels. It was chilly in the room and she was too sleepy to continue the book, so she put it down and turned out the light. She pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and stared through the window at the starry night. She had not stopped thinking about the idea of becoming a foster mother. She couldn’t decide whether it was a brilliant idea and the perfect career change, or whether it would be madness. Choosing to take children into her home when she would effectively be a single mother might be too much. It would be exhausting, emotionally draining and even heart-breaking. She knew quite a few social workers and she had heard numerous horror stories about the reasons why some children were taken into care.

Fostering was not an easy thing to do; but she didn’t necessarily want an easy job. After losing Duncan, she realised she wasn’t afraid of the emotional rollercoast
er fostering might present; but she wondered what Bryden and Jamie would think. After all, it was their home too; at least when they were in Shetland. She wondered whether they would try and talk her out of the idea.

She realised
she had stopped stressing out about Cameron and sighed with relief. Yes indeed, fostering would keep her far too busy to worry about new and unsuitable entanglements with men. It was perfect. She shut her eyes and drifted off to sleep, dreaming about her house ringing with the sound of children’s laughter
.

15

Julia battled her way down the rickety steps of the aircraft; her raincoat flapped around her legs and her hair whipped across her face in the strong winds that raced unchecked across the runway at Sumburgh Airport. Welcome to Shetland, Julia thought, as she hurried across the tarmac to the arrivals lounge.

While she was waiting for her suitcase to appear on the carousel
, she stood by the window and looked out at the weather. The rain lashed down from lead grey skies, and an empty crisp packet flew past the window on a non-stop flight to Norway.

Julia heard the carousel start up and she turned to retrieve her suitcase, for which she had had
to pay excess baggage charges on, the result of spending the remainder of her holiday indulging in some retail therapy. She heaved it off the conveyor belt and pulled up the handle and started to drag it out towards the exit.

By the time she reached her house she was exhausted. She had left the warmth of Sicily three days ago, having stopped off briefly in Edinburgh to see Jamie and Bryden
again. It was late afternoon and it was dark by the time she parked her car on the drive. She sat and looked at the house for a moment. The last time she had driven home from the airport was when she had come home with Duncan from the hospital in Aberdeen. She normally loved returning to her home. Today she wasn’t quite so sure she wanted to go inside.

She took a deep breath and steeled herself to get out of the car into the hideous weather.
When she opened the kitchen door she was met by a not particularly pleasant smell of dusty, musty air. She was tempted to open a window to let in some fresh air, but it was too cold for that. The heating in the house had been switched to a bare minimum in her absence, and she shivered as she walked into the kitchen. The heat may have been enough to make sure the pipes didn’t freeze in a cold snap; but it was not enough to make her feel comfortable taking off her coat. She walked over to the thermostat and cranked up the heating.

She leaned
the suitcase against the kitchen wall and then went back to the front door to retrieve the post. She sifted through the large collection, depositing a large bundle of junk mail and leaflets straight into the recycling bin. There were a couple of letters for Duncan, which made her feel sick. She dumped all the letters, unread, onto the table and walked over to the kettle, before realising there wasn’t any milk in the house so she couldn’t make herself a cup of tea or coffee.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ Julia muttered out
loud to herself, regretting she hadn’t stopped off at the supermarket on her way home from the airport. Her words echoed in the cold kitchen. She felt bad tempered and not in the least bit glad to be home. It was like Sicily had never happened. Standing there in her coat, she simply couldn’t conjure up the memory of what it had been like to feel the warm sun on her skin.

The kitchen phone rang, making her jump. She considered not answering it, but thought it might be Jamie or Bryden.

‘Hello?’ she said, hesitantly.

‘At last, you’re home;
I wasn’t sure if it was today or tomorrow.’ Marianne said, excitedly.

‘I still have my coat on;
I just walked in the door,’ Julia replied. ‘Mind you, it’s so cold here I can’t take my coat off.’

‘You know, I did wonder about c
oming round and switching your heating on and buying some milk and bread in case you got in late, but I didn’t get time today.’

‘Don’t be daft. I mig
ht go back out to the shop in a while and get some things; it will give the house a chance to warm up.’

‘Look, why don’t
you come over here instead. I’m just about to start cooking tea. We can catch up.’

Julia looked around the kitchen, won
dering whether she really ought to spend her first night at home unpacking and putting things away. She barely hesitated before replying.

‘Actually, I think I’ll take you up on that offer, thanks. I have some presents in my suitcase for you, so I may as well just put it back in the car and drive over now. Bugger the unpacking and the post. It can wait until tomorrow.’

‘Well, if you’re bringing your suitcase, you can just stay over. Then your house really will be warmed up again.’

‘P
erfect!’

Julia put the phone down and walked over to her suitcase and wheeled it back out to her car and drove round to Marianne’s house with a huge sense of relief. She was guaranteed a much warmer welcome there.

When she got to
Marianne’s house she found Ivan and Rachel had just arrived for an unexpected visit with their baby. Marianne was sitting at the kitchen table cuddling Charlie.

‘Look, at my lovely new grandson,’ Marianne said, as Julia walked in.

‘Oh my goodness, he’s gorgeous,’ Julia said. She parked her suitcase in the hallway and took her coat off and hung it up before hurrying back to the kitchen.

Julia sat down at the table and leaned in to get a closer look at Charlie, who was fast asleep in Marianne’s arms and oblivious to the fuss being made over him. I
sobel came into the kitchen and squealed with delight when she saw Julia; earning a hush from her mother.

‘Hello Auntie Jules, did you have a good time?’

‘Yes thanks. I have some presents for everyone. I’ll get them out of my bag in a moment. But first I must see your little nephew.’

‘Izzy, you could put the kettle on for us
; there’s an angel. I expect Julia’s desperate for a good old fashioned cup of British tea. Unless you’d rather have a glass of wine?’

‘Tea would be perfect thanks.’

While Isobel put the kettle on and made a pot of tea, Julia talked to Rachel about Charlie. Marianne passed the sleeping baby to Julia and she held him up close to her face, breathing in the soft sweet scent of a new-born. It brought back delicious memories of when Jamie and Bryden were babies.

They heard the front door open and close and a moment later Brian appeared in the kitchen. His face lit up
when he saw Julia and he hurried over and kissed her cheek then he went around the table kissing Marianne, Rachel and Isobel.

‘This is a nice surprise, all these lovely women in my house. Although I can’t smell anything like dinner cooking.’ Brian said, laughing at Marianne, who pulled a face at him. ‘How’s my little Charlie boy today?’ Brian added, sitting down next to Julia and taking a peek at the baby.

‘He’s been asleep since he got here,’ Marianne said.

‘Despite your best efforts to wake him up no doubt,’ Brian replied, winking at Rachel.

Rachel smiled and then yawned, before apologising.

‘Don’t be silly, my lamb, why don’t you go upstairs and have a little snooze, we can look after Charlie. You must be exhausted.’ Marianne said to Rachel.

Rachel nodded gratefully and left the kitchen.

‘Poor girl looks shattered,’ Brian said, as he stood up again and went to look in the fridge. ‘What’s for tea?’

‘I was going to cook pasta and salad, but then Rachel and Ivan brought Charlie round. Ivan’s upstairs helping Sophie with her maths homework. Anyway, I haven’t started cooking yet.’

Brian looked at his watch and then
grinned wickedly at Marianne.

‘Why don’t you ring an order through to the Chi
nese, I’ll get changed and go and collect it in a few minutes.’

‘Brilliant idea!
’

An hour later, they were finishing their takeaway meal in the kitchen. Rachel was still sleeping upstairs and Ivan was holding his son, who had woken briefly and was now dozing again. Isobel and Sophie had wandered off to the lounge to watch television, and Julia was telling them about Sicily. She told them all about Tony Hugo, the famous author and his lovely villa, and she told them about Bryden’s visit and all the places they had visited. She talked about the scenery, the weather, the beaches, the food and her day trip to Mount Etna; but she did not say a word about Cameron.

Charlie opened his eyes and
started to pucker up his face as if he was going to cry.

‘I think he’s hungry. I’ll ta
ke him up to Rachel,’ Ivan said, as he stood up with the baby.

‘T
ell her we’ve saved some Chinese food for her,’ Marianne said.

‘So, anyway, what gossip
have I missed while I was away?’ Julia said, as Ivan left the kitchen. Brian stood up to leave the room shaking his head in amusement at Julia and Marianne.

‘Nothing much, only what you know already, about Laura and John splitting up. That’s the only big news. Laura’s apparently really pissed off with John, as he sent her an emai
l while he was offshore, saying he wasn’t coming back.’

‘That’s a bit coward
ly,’ Julia said. ‘What’s Cameron said about it?’

‘I don’t
know. I haven’t seen him since. He did seem really happy when I bumped into him a couple of weeks ago. The happiest I have seen him in months, so perhaps they are getting back together again. Although I think he would be a fool to trust her.’

Brian came back
to the kitchen and walked over to the cupboard and took out some glasses.

‘Anyone want to try some of this Limoncello
Julia brought me?’

‘I will. Can I have lots of ice in mine please?’ Marianne said.

‘I know what I meant to tell you,’ Brian said, as he dispensed ice-cubes into the glasses. ‘I met Cameron’s secretary at the Chinese. I mentioned Julia was back from Sicily and we were just about to celebrate with a takeaway, and she said, what a coincidence, Cameron went over to Sicily a few weeks ago. He’s got some new project over there.’

Marianne smiled quizzically at Julia.

‘Sicily’s a big place. It’s about the same size as Wales. You would have to be really lucky to bump into someone you knew there,’ Brian continued, with his back to the kitchen table.

Julia felt herself blushing. She stared down at the table, noticing a few stray grains of rice on the table cloth. She picked them up and deposited them on her side plate.

‘Julia! You saw him, didn’t you?’ Marianne said, leaning forward and staring hard at Julia.

Brian turned round from the fridge and looked at them.

‘Whoops! Have I said something wrong?’

Julia looked up at him and despite her embarrassment, couldn’t help but
smile.

‘Oh my God. Wh
at happened? Something happened! Oh Lord, get me a drink,’ Marianne said, flapping her hand urgently in Brian’s direction.

Julia covered her face with her hands.

‘You’re such a witch,’ she said to Marianne.

‘No I’m not; I have just learned to read your face.’ Marianne replied, drawing circles in the air around her own face. ‘Every emoti
on, is written as clear as day. I knew you’d been hiding something. I just didn’t know what. I thought you may have hooked up with that writer fellow.’

Brian handed Marianne her drink and took a seat back at the table. Marianne tried to wave him away.

‘No, I’m staying to hear this!’ Brian said, grinning at Julia, who groaned in despair.

Julia walked
over to the kitchen door and closed it and then sat down again. She picked up her glass of wine, brought it to her lips but put it down untouched, with an air of resignation.

‘OK, I
’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell a single soul.’

‘Cross my heart!’ Marianne said, miming drawing a cross over her chest and looking pointedly at Brian
, who nodded seriously.

‘You remember I told you I had dinner with Tony and some of his friends on my first night in Sicily?’

Marianne nodded.

‘Wel
l, one of them was an architect; he’s German, but he works in Sicily, and we got to talking about architecture in Shetland and he mentioned he would love to speak to Cameron about his famous eco-home, as he’d read about it in a magazine. When I said I knew Cameron he asked for his email address which I gave him.’

Julia took
a sip of wine, remembering the conversation with Jürgen and wondering if she now regretted joining Tony and his friends for dinner.

‘Anyway, I t
hought nothing of it, but a week later Cameron rang me and said he had spoken to Jürgen and had been invited over to Sicily. He had just booked his flight and wanted to know where I was staying and whether I could recommend a hotel.’

Brian suppressed a smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

‘Anyway, I said he may as well stay with me since I had a spare room. So he turned up the next day. And it was fine. It was actually nice to see him, as I had spent quite a few days on my own, so it was great to have company. I went to Palermo with him the next day while he had his meeting and did some shopping. Then afterwards we went back and cooked dinner and sat around talking.’

‘He’s such a crafty bastard!’ Brian said, interrupting Julia.

Julia shook her head, trying to stop Brian from jumping to the wrong conclusion.