Page 44 of Love, Accidentally

My preconceptions are shattered further as Will unlocks the front door and steps aside to let me go first.

‘The kitchen’s straight down the hallway,’ he tells me. Far from being an old-fashioned, dark and gloomy space, Jonathan’s house is bright and airy, with light neutral shades on the walls and gorgeous paintings dotted about. There are landscapes and wildlife paintings of different sizes, plus the odd still life. The only clue to the age of the occupants is the chairlift occupying most of the space on the staircase. I’m guessing that the faint sound of a Hoover from somewhere upstairs is Gina or one of her crew. The kitchen, when I reach it, is another bright and airy room, largely due to the bifold doors that take up most of the rear wall. The units are modern and sleek, reminding me a little of the adverts you see on TV.

‘Just bung them on any worktop,’ Will says, heaving his own bags onto the side. ‘Dad’s in the living room, or he should be. I’ve banned him from going into the workshop when I’m not here, not that I really expect him to listen.’

‘The workshop?’ I ask.

‘Out there.’ He points through the doors to a building in the garden. It looks like one of those home offices that have become so popular recently, but it’s much larger. ‘I do want him to start spending time out there because I think it’ll be good for him, but there are a lot of power tools and so on, so I’d rather be around to keep an eye on him to begin with. Anyway, go through and say hello to Dad. I’ll sort out the stuff in here and then come and join you. Would you like a cup of tea or anything?’

My first instinct is to say no, as it’s not long since my last cup at Mum’s, but, even though I’ve never been in a house so upmarket that they pay other people to clean it, I feel strangely comfortable here. The weight that’s been sitting on my chest since leaving Richenda’s seems to have finally shifted and I can feel myself unwinding.

‘That would be lovely,’ I tell him. ‘Thank you.’

19

‘Tilly!’ Jonathan beams as I walk into a living room that’s probably the size of our entire flat and is also festooned with paintings. ‘I wondered if that was your voice I could hear just now. Come to check I’m being a good boy and doing what I’m told?’

‘Nothing so sinister,’ I tell him. ‘I happened to be passing and saw Will, who invited me in.’

‘Of course you were,’ he says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘Well, it’s very nice to see you. Take a seat and keep an old man company.’ He indicates a generously upholstered leather recliner chair next to his own and reaches for the remote control to turn off the largest flat-screen TV I think I’ve ever seen. ‘I’m afraid I’ve already done today’s crossword,’ he informs me once I’ve manoeuvred my way into the chair. My attempt to give the impression I’m not staying long by perching on the edge of the seat fails spectacularly as I promptly slide backwards into its leathery embrace. ‘If I’d known you were coming, I’d have saved you some clues.’

‘What were you watching?’ I indicate the now blank TV screen.

‘Nothing important. One of those property shows where people want to relocate somewhere hot and sunny. It’s something Geraldine and I used to do together when she got too infirm to move about much. It gave us something to think and talk about that wasn’t her illness, if that makes sense.’

‘Perfect,’ I tell him.

He smiles ruefully. ‘She was one of those people who refused to accept there was anything she couldn’t do. As her illness progressed, she was forced to come to terms with her diminishing abilities, but she found it so hard.’

‘Do you know the Dylan Thomas poem?’ Will asks as he sets down a tray with three mugs of tea and a plate of biscuits. ‘“Do not go gentle into that good night”? That was Mum. She raged against the dying of the light right until the end, didn’t she, Dad?’

‘That she did. She was always a fighter, your mum. She faced her condition head-on and, although she was realistic about the outcome, she never gave in to it.’

There’s a silence but, for the first time with Jonathan and Will, it’s not entirely comfortable. I suspect it’s because they’re both contemplating the elephant that’s silently snuck into the room – namely that Jonathan did try to give in rather than fight when the going got really tough.

‘I love your house, and the artwork,’ I tell him to try to defuse the sudden awkwardness. ‘I’ll admit it’s not quite what I was expecting.’

‘The paintings are all Will’s. Good, aren’t they?’ His voice is full of pride and I’m amused to note that Will is blushing slightly. ‘The house itself was another distraction technique, if I’m honest,’ he continues with a sigh. ‘It was so awful watching Geraldine getting weaker, so I threw myself into various home improvement projects to give me something else to focus on. I told myself I was doing them for her, but the reality was they were just a clumsy way for me to step away from the reality of her illness for a while. The only one that really benefitted her was the stairlift and, if I’m honest, I absolutely hated the thing from the moment it went in. Not just because it got in the way; it was an unavoidable reminder of her illness every time I went up or down the stairs.’

‘Mum loved it though,’ Will says softly.

‘She did,’ Jonathan admits. ‘We would have had to set her up a bedroom down here if we hadn’t got it, and she would never have agreed to that.’

‘And she’d have missed out on all the crazy things you put in the bathroom to make her life easier,’ Will reminds him before turning to me. ‘Have you ever come across a walk-in bath?’

‘I’ve heard of them.’

‘Dad put one in for Mum but, being Dad, no ordinary walk-in bath would do. This is a top-of-the-range one with Jacuzzi jets and a powered seat to lower you in and lift you out of the water. Did she ever use the Jacuzzi function, Dad?’ His eyes crinkle with amusement.

‘Only once,’ Jonathan admits. ‘She said it didn’t do anything for her.’

‘You were going to put in that extraordinary kitchen too,’ Will continues. ‘The one with the worktops that went up and down so she could reach from her wheelchair.’

‘She did put her foot down about that,’ Jonathan agrees. ‘She said there wasn’t any point in throwing tons of money at a kitchen that nobody else would ever want, when she could simply teach me to cook for free instead. Always practical.’

I sip my tea and let the conversation wash over me as they reminisce, each trying to outdo the other with some story either of Geraldine’s forceful personality, or one of Jonathan’s often half-cocked ideas to make life easier for her. I may never have met her but, from the way they describe her, I think I would have liked Geraldine. She sounds like she was a lot of fun to be around, if a little terrifying at times. I start scanning the room, looking for a picture of her but, although there are plenty of Will, or Will and Jonathan together, there are none of her.

‘I put them in the drawer after she died,’ Jonathan admits sadly when I ask him carefully about it. ‘I couldn’t bear to look at her. It just reminded me of everything I’d lost. Will, I think it’s time we put that right, if you don’t mind doing the honours.’

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