Читать книгу Finding Love at Hedgehog Hollow - Jessica Redland - Страница 8

Nothing changed between James and me over the next three months. Or rather nothing changed outwardly. We still saw each other just as regularly. We still talked incessantly. We still laughed a lot. But, inwardly, everything had changed for me. I was falling apart, my heart breaking every day, knowing that the man I loved didn’t love me back and never would. I knew I was kidding myself that he’d wake up one day and suddenly realise that he felt more than affectionate friendship.

I couldn’t bring myself to confide in Hannah or Chloe – the two people I normally turned to when anything troubled me. I hated that I was keeping something so important from them but I knew why. They’d tell me to end it because that was the advice I’d give if either of them presented the same situation to me. Why waste time investing in something completely one-sided? But I wasn’t ready to face that so I lied. I repeated James’s words to them – we were having fun but neither of us saw it lasting long-term because we didn’t have that spark.

Hannah challenged me on it after she returned from her honeymoon.

‘You’ve been together for nearly seven months now,’ she said, frowning. ‘That’s a long time if the relationship’s going nowhere. What’s the point in staying together?’

‘What did you say was the best way to get over Harry? I’m taking your advice and I’m enjoying it very much, thank you. Does every relationship need to be heading towards something?’

She shrugged. ‘No, but be careful, won’t you? I’d hate to see you getting hurt again.’

‘I could only get hurt if I was hopelessly in love with him, which I’m not. Sooner or later, one of us will meet someone else and it will end. For now, we’re great friends—’

‘With benefits,’ she finished.

‘No! Don’t say that. It makes it sound tacky.’

‘What else would you call it? Look, if it works for you both, then go for it and have fun. But if you feel more than friendship—’

‘I don’t.’ I realised I’d probably said that too quickly and sharply so I smiled and hoped I could lie convincingly. ‘I’ll admit that I was pretty smitten at first and thought James could be the one, but there’s something missing. He’s not my forever.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure. So are you looking forward to getting back to work?’

She narrowed her eyes at me again but I gave her my most dazzling smile which must have convinced her because she sat back in the armchair and chatted about her return to work.

Chloe was more accepting of the casual nature of our relationship. She hadn’t yet met him and James didn’t do social media but I’d posted a few images of him on Facebook and Instagram.

‘Good on you,’ she said as we walked arm in arm along the promenade at North Bay one calm evening in late March. ‘If I had a friend who looked like your James, I’d be more than happy to indulge in a bit of no-strings shagging.’

‘It’s not quite no-strings,’ I said. ‘We’re not allowed to see other people and, if one of us meets someone, we have to tell the other one.’

‘Sounds like the perfect arrangement. Where can I get me a James?’

‘No idea. Aisle ten at the supermarket?’

She laughed. ‘If only. So when am I going to get to meet him? You’ve been together forever.’

‘Hardly forever and you know it’s not intentional. Mum won’t let him stay over so it’s easier for me to go to York.’

She squeezed my arm tighter. ‘Try not to let her get to you,’ she said gently. There wasn’t much else she could say. My mum adored Chloe and hated me. Chloe had claimed I was imagining things when we were younger but, as we’d moved into our twenties, she’d had to admit that she could see how differently Mum acted towards us both.

‘You know me,’ I said. ‘Always trying to keep the peace and go with the flow.’

‘I wish you didn’t have to.’

‘Me too.’ I sighed. ‘Anyway, back to more cheery subjects. I’ve pencilled James in for Gramps’s seventy-fifth in June so you’ll get to meet him then, if not before.’

‘About time too.’

Mum and I weren’t close but her dad – my Gramps – and I were. I sometimes wondered if he’d originally gone out of his way to shower me with love to compensate for his daughter’s indifference towards me but, whatever the reason, I absolutely adored him and the special bond we shared.

Throughout childhood, I frequently visited Nanna and Gramps at Meadowcroft, a large bungalow set in two acres of land in a village called Little Tilbury about forty minutes south of Whitsborough Bay. I often stayed during the school holidays, baking with Nanna or helping Gramps in the garden. Gramps was a keen ornithologist and his sprawling back garden – which included a copse – was a haven for birds. He taught me all their names, food preferences and nesting choices. The garden backed onto open fields and attracted a multitude of other wildlife, especially at night. Hedgehogs, rabbits, foxes and even badgers were regular visitors, exploring the hedgerows, the copse, and seeking out the treats Gramps left for them. My grandparents would let me stay up late, and we’d all hide in the conservatory with the lights off, watching the nocturnal activities. Sometimes Chloe stayed but nature seemed to bore her so it was usually just me and I loved the undivided attention.

Nanna and Gramps were the most adorable couple, always laughing together and holding hands whenever they went out. It was obvious their love was deep and lasting, but Nanna was taken from us too soon. Five years ago, when she was only sixty-nine, she needed a routine operation. Nobody was worried about it and we were all looking forward to three big celebrations after she recovered: Gramps’s seventieth, their golden wedding anniversary and then Nanna’s seventieth. But she caught an infection which turned into sepsis. None of us could quite believe she’d gone, especially Gramps. It was like someone had turned the lights off behind his eyes and I feared I’d never see him smile again.

After Nanna died, I spent as much time with Gramps as I could. I’d drive over to Meadowcroft most evenings after work and spend at least one day there each weekend. He was so lost without Nanna, struggling to find a reason to exist. It broke my heart to see him like that. He even lost interest in the birds and wildlife but slowly I coaxed him back outside, reminding him how many living things relied on him and trying to show him a reason to go on. Gradually the colour returned to his cheeks and he started to smile again. I could still feel the weariness, the loneliness, and the understandable disinterest in a life without Nanna, but the melancholy became less frequent. He started spending time with another widower in the village and slowly, surely, he built a life without Nanna.

We began going out for walks together and, each time, he’d share something new with me about Nanna. I think it was his way of keeping her alive, sharing his precious memories with me, but it made me feel so much closer to them both too.

At the start of the new year, we took a stroll through the village and I mooted the idea of a party to celebrate his seventy-fifth birthday.

Gramps paused then smiled. ‘I think your nanna would have wanted that. We never got to celebrate those three special occasions the year we lost her. I think she’d like us to celebrate the next milestone.’

‘So it’s a yes?’

‘It’s a yes. As long as you help me organise it.’

I hugged him. ‘I’d be delighted to.’