I laugh. ‘What – that I’ll end up on one of those shows?’
‘Men don’t want to settle down now,’ my mother says. ‘And I want you to be happy and married.’
‘I don’t know that the two go hand-in-hand now, Mummy.’
‘It’s lying here.’ She sighs wearily and worries at the bedclothes with her fingers. ‘It gives me too much time to think.’
Catherine has been in hospital for a week now and has made remarkable progress. Due to her sheer dogged determination, she’s regained some movement already in her right arm. She uses it now to flick through the channels on the television.
Over on the QVC shopping channel a stiff-haired woman is in raptures over a real cubic zirconia pendant. On the next channel, yet another house makeover programme is in full-flight – the presenter going giddy over some poorly constructed MDF wardrobe that will, no doubt, fall to bits a week after the camera crew departs. On another, a perma-tanned newsreader is recounting in sombre tones the story of a break-in by vandals at the ancient site of Stonehenge.
‘What a bunch of idiots.’ I tut at the screen. ‘Haven’t they got anything better to do?’
My mother clicks off the television. ‘This is too depressing,’ she says. ‘What is the world coming to?’
‘I’ll bring you some more books in.’
‘That would be nice, darling. I’m so bored.’
‘It won’t be for much longer. You’ll be out soon,’ I assure her. ‘Giving us all hell.’
‘Yes.’ My mother sinks back into her pillow. ‘Just you wait.’
‘I have to go soon,’ I say. ‘I’m due at work.’ Caron has been great, covering for my shifts this week but I don’t want to take advantage of her, so I come in first thing in the morning to relieve my father for a few hours while he goes home and performs a few perfunctory household chores – the ones that previously he was so unused to having to do. He has become a dab hand with a duster. My father has been fantastic, rallying around Mummy to make her as comfortable as possible. I didn’t expect my father to have a nurturing side to him, but now it’s full on.
‘Daddy’s been marvellous,’ I say to my mother. ‘I thought he’d go to pot without you.’
‘Your daddy is a tough old boot,’ my mother tells me. She turns towards me, her lopsided face serious. ‘You know that he’s given in his notice at the hospital?’
‘I didn’t,’ I admit. ‘He talked about it, but I never thought he’d do it.’
‘Me neither,’ Catherine says, struggling to raise an eyebrow. ‘They’re letting him take early retirement. In three months’ time, he’ll be a free man. Apparently we’re going to spend the rest of our lives travelling and having fun. Before it’s too late.’ My mother indicates a pile of holiday brochures on her bedside table. ‘I see Charles flicking through them in the wee small hours.’
‘That sounds great. I’m pleased for you both.’
‘We don’t know how long we’ll have together, Emma,’ my mother says. ‘We want to make the most of it. You can make all the plans you want for the future, but you never know when the future can be snatched away from you. At least we’ve had a warning. It means that we can get our priorities right from now on.’
‘You’ll be up on your feet before long,’ I pat her arm. ‘They can’t keep a good one down.’
‘Have you heard anything from Leo yet?’
I shake my head. ‘Not a thing. There’s no sign of him at his flat.’ I’ve walked past often enough to know that. ‘His mobile phone sounds as if it’s been disconnected. It’s just making strange crackling noises. Neither he nor his ditzy friends have turned up to work for a week now.’
‘I’m sure there’ll be a perfectly plausible explanation.’
‘There never is with Leo,’ I say. ‘It’s always something hare-brained. He’ll probably try to convince me he was abducted by aliens.’
‘Leo’s a lot of fun.’
He is fun. There’s no disputing that. ‘I’ve been seeing someone else.’
‘Really?’
I’m not sure that one almost romantic candlelit dinner for two is enough to be classed as ‘seeing’ someone, but I feel there’s a spark of attraction there between Dominic and me that could be encouraged to grow. And he’s normal. He’s useful in an emergency.
‘Is he nice?’
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘You could sound a little more enthusiastic.’
‘He’s nice. He’s normal. He’s . . .’
‘Not Leo?’
‘No.’
‘Everyone deserves a second chance, darling. I hope that you and Leo have one.’
I hope so too. If only I could find him.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Isobel led him away from Grant and Lard and they sat on the ground beneath the shade of a tree. She wrapped her arms around Leo and said, ‘It’ll soon be time for you to go.’
‘Oh.’ Leo knew that his place was back on earth with Emma, but it didn’t mean that he was finding it any easier to leave. He seemed to have spent all of his life being detached from his most important relationships. Leo never saw his parents or his brother, he’d taken Emma completely for granted and yet with this small, mischievous fairy he’d finally found out how to connect on a deep emotional level. How to love unconditionally. Leo sighed into Isobel’s hair and held her tighter. ‘This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Are you sure you’ll be okay now?’
Isobel met his eyes. ‘We’ll be fine.’
‘We?’
Isobel took his hand and placed it on her tummy. ‘A part of you will always be with me.’
Leo’s throat closed with emotion and tears rushed to his eyes. ‘I’m going to be a daddy?’
Isobel nodded. ‘A male child.’
Resting his head against her, Leo let the tears fall. ‘A boy.’ He imagined that he could see the new life growing inside her. Then a thought went through his mind and he sat up sharply, brushing away the tears. ‘Wait. Wait. A boy? He’s not going to be a gnome or anything?’
Isobel laughed. ‘Our child will be an air spirit, Leo. Free and unfettered.’
‘So your trip to London wasn’t entirely wasted?’
‘I met you, Leo. How could you think that it was anything other than wonderful?’
‘But if I go back, I’ll never see him. How will I know what he’s like?’
‘We’ll be on the breeze as it blows in your hair. On your cheeks in the falling rain. In the sun as it warms your face,’ she said. ‘You’ll know, Leo. You’ll know.’
Leo didn’t want to let her go. It was even harder now than before. Before, it was just about the two of them – now the equation was so much more difficult. ‘You know that I have loved you,’ he said. ‘In my own stupid earthbound way.’
‘Our love could only ever be a passing thing. There is someone for everyone, Leo. You have already found your love on earth.’
‘Emma?’
Isobel nodded. ‘She’s your soulmate.’ Then she lowered her eyelashes and looked coy. ‘I have a confession to make.’
‘Will I like it?
‘Emma wished me into your lives,’ she said.
Leo’s eyes widened. That was a revelation.
‘The alignment was right in the universe. That enabled me to respond.’
Rather like playing on the slot machines and coming up with three cherries in a row. Big payola. Emma, instead, got Isobel.
‘She doesn’t know it though,’ Isobel admitted.
‘It will certainly help to explain my behaviour over the last few weeks.’
‘But you mustn’t tell her.’
‘There’s always a catch with you fairies, isn’t there?’
‘Yes,’ she said, and took his hand. ‘Don’t let her slip through your fingers, Leo. I have done as much as I can. Now it’s up to you. Cherish her. Love her fully, as you know you can.’
‘I’m going to try,’ he said sincerely. ‘I’m going to try my very best.’
/>
‘Then it’s time for you to leave.’
‘Can I kiss you one last time?’ Cupping her face in his hands, he let himself drink in the taste of her lips.
Isobel stood up and led him by the hand back into the centre of the glade where Grant and Lard waited for him.
‘Okay?’ Grant wanted to know.
Leo nodded. And then Isobel handed each of them a gold chalice.
‘Drink this,’ she said.
Grant, Lard and Leo eyed the cups suspiciously. They were brimming with golden liquid that sparkled in the sunlight. They looked at each other in reluctant agreement and then each one took a cautious sip. Disappointingly, it tasted rather like Diet Pepsi.
They stood there for a moment until Leo said, ‘Now what happens?’
Then everything went very, very black.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
I’m lurking outside Leo’s flat again and now I’m getting seriously worried. A week has gone by and there’s still no sign of him. Dusk is falling and there should be a light on inside by now. I sit on the wall outside and wonder what to do.
A few minutes later, while I’m still gripped by indecision, Dominic arrives home from work.
‘Hey,’ he says with a gentle smile. ‘We must stop meeting like this.’
‘Hi, Dominic.’ My spirits lift on seeing him even though I didn’t exactly expect to bump into him.
‘At least you’re waiting for me on the doorstep fully-clothed.’
‘And not glued in a box.’
He laughs. ‘It was very amusing,’ he says. ‘With hindsight.’
‘And from your perspective,’ I add wryly.
My rescuer laughs again and then says, ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I . . . er . . .’ It doesn’t seem polite to say that I’ve been hanging around waiting to see if Leo turns up. I’ve been meaning to call Dominic since our dinner together, but somehow I haven’t got round to it. With visiting my mother in the hospital and fitting in work and all the other things I have to do . . . Suddenly they all sound like feeble excuses. I’ve found time to walk past here every day in search of my missing ex – so I could have dropped in to see Dominic any time, and it occurs to me that it’s strange that I haven’t. But then Dominic has my telephone number and he hasn’t called me either when he said he would. I frown.
‘I’ve been meaning to call,’ he says as if reading my mind.
‘That’s okay.’
‘No,’ he says. ‘I want to talk to you about something. I think you’d better come in.’
Wearily, I follow him up the stairs and into his flat, trying not to stare too much at Leo’s door. Would one little ring on the bell hurt?
‘Coffee?’ Dominic says once we’re inside.
‘Please.’ I’m suddenly overcome by exhaustion. Why is life always such a struggle? Do people ever manage to escape from the dreaded rat race and carve out a quieter, more peaceful existence for themselves?
Sitting down on the sofa, I look around me. This place is far too tidy for a guy who lives on his own. There isn’t so much as a CD out of place and they look suspiciously like they’re all in alphabetical order. Isn’t that a bit spooky? Will someone so controlled be any good in bed? Then it occurs to me that all my CDs are arranged that way too. Suddenly that seems to be a bad idea. What does it say about me? Am I changing? Is it a positive step that I can now consider having my CDs arranged randomly? Perhaps I too have always been too uptight to be a good lover. What would it be like if two control freaks went to bed together? Think of the fights to be on top. I’m not even sure why I’m thinking along those lines. It’s years and years since I’ve slept with anyone other than Leo and, somehow, I still don’t feel in a rush to. While I grapple with my inner turmoil, Dominic chatters pleasantly about nothing while he makes the coffee and I let the conversation flow over me.
He comes and hands me my coffee. Then, instead of sitting next to me on the sofa, he deliberately crosses the room and takes up position in one of the armchairs.
‘Thank you for a lovely dinner the other night,’ I say. ‘It was very kind. You must let me reciprocate soon.’
Dominic stares down at his mug. ‘I don’t think that’s going to be possible.’
My friend sighs and looks at me from across the expanse of laminate flooring that separates us. ‘Lydia came back,’ he says. ‘A few days ago.’
‘It didn’t work out with . . .’
‘Gerry,’ he supplies. ‘No. Apparently he had too many bad habits. Lydia’s managed to knock them out of me over the years. I’m almost perfectly house-trained now.’ There’s a slightly bitter edge to his voice. He too takes in the neatly-arranged cushions and the meticulously-spaced row of church candles. ‘I don’t think she could face going through that all over again.’
‘She probably just realised she’d been a complete idiot,’ I offer gently. ‘You’re a great guy.’
‘She’s out at the gym tonight.’ He glances nervously at the clock. ‘It won’t be long before she’s home.’
‘Then I’d better be going.’ I put my untouched coffee on the table beside me and stand up.
‘I thought that maybe you and I could have . . .’ His voice tails off. ‘Well, you know what I mean.’
‘I thought so too.’
‘Put it down to terrible timing,’ Dominic says with a shrug. ‘But I’ve got to give this another go.’
‘I hope she begged.’
‘She did.’ He gives me a tired smile. ‘I’ve forgiven her. Life seems a lot better with her than without her. I decided that I wasn’t ready to move on with someone else. Perhaps unwisely, I still love her.’
We kiss awkwardly on the cheek. I point at the door. ‘I’m out of here,’ I say with forced cheerfulness. ‘I might just give your errant neighbour a knock on the way out.’
‘I still love Lydia,’ Dominic repeats. ‘And you still love Leo.’
‘That obvious?’
‘’Fraid so.’
‘I hope it works out with Lydia,’ I say. ‘Tell her she’s a very lucky woman.’
Dominic closes the door behind me and I stand in the darkened hall, gazing at Leo’s door. Resting my finger on the bell, I let it ring and ring until the tip goes numb. Of course, there’s no one there. Leo has disappeared into thin air. He’s gone. Vamoosed. Has been spirited away. Where on earth can he be? And is he there with that other damn woman? I plod unhappily down the stairs to the front door. All I need now is my own happy ending.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Everything was still very, very black. Leo could hear birds tweeting and there was a rasping sound by his ear.
Opening his eyes, Leo found that it made it too, too light again. He was lying on his back in a field. The rasping noise was a sheep chewing at the grass; on seeing Leo, it decided to lick his face instead. Pushing away the slobbering sheep, he forced himself upright. His legs, his arms, his everything, felt as weak as a kitten’s. Blinking against the strong light, he looked around. They were back in the middle of the great circle of standing stones at Stonehenge, surrounded by sheep, and Leo was relieved that he hadn’t ended up somewhere else in the wrong time and the wrong place like that unfortunate time-travelling bloke did every week on Quantum Leap.
Grant and Lard were lying on their backs beside him and they too were slowly coming back down to earth. Their hair was standing on end and Leo didn’t suppose his was an exception. They had stupid grins on their faces and, of course, they were all covered in glitter.
His friends opened their eyes and took in their surroundings.
‘We made it back,’ Grant said with a grateful sigh. ‘Thank goodness.’
‘Are you okay, Lard?’
Lard checked his limbs. They all appeared to be intact. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Never better.’
The sun was coming up, picking its way between the stones to reach its pinnacle, and the sky was aglow with a rich pink wash. Their green and pleasant land had never looked more beautif
ul.
‘I was worried,’ Grant admitted. He rubbed his hair, causing a glitter shower, and they all exchanged a knowing look. ‘I thought we might get ourselves into some sort of trouble.’
Then, out of the exquisite silence, there was the sound of sirens. Two police cars pulled up by the perimeter fence and four rather burly policemen jumped out and ran towards them at full pelt, riot batons drawn. And Leo felt that their troubles might be just about to start.
He sighed, lay down on his back again and waited for the onslaught of officialdom. Had he really chosen to come back to this life over paradise? Leo heard Grant and Lard groan behind him. The policemen were still thundering their way across the field towards them.
Leo put his hands behind his head, crossed his ankles and said, ‘Welcome home, boys.’
Chapter Seventy-Nine
It isn’t something that I particularly want to do, but I can’t help it, like some sad old moth to a particularly troublesome flame. I sit on my bed, surrounded by mementos of my relationship with Leo. A battered biscuit tin lies open next to me, overflowing with photos of us together and silly tokens of love.
I open a small tin can. A lurid green plastic snake shoots out and blows a raspberry. It makes me smile. I’m not sure that it did at the time. Perhaps I haven’t always been fully appreciative of Leo’s line in presents. Now they’re my most cherished possessions.
The doorbell rings and I put the lid back on the biscuit tin, pushing it under my bed, before going to answer the door. We’re having another girls’ night in. Three lonely spinsters, too much Chardonnay, a DVD featuring Orlando Bloom and hours of discussing men without any of us currently having a relationship with one. Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?
Caron breezes in first, Jo following in her wake. I join the procession and we go through to the kitchen where Caron proceeds to pull cartons out of a carrier bag from Antonio’s deli – a fine, expensive establishment just further down the street from my flat in Shad Thames. As well as being fine and expensive, it’s also far too convenient and is the main reason why my oven has seen so little action during the time I’ve lived here and my bank account has seen so much.