Page 30 of Will You Stay Another Day?
‘Get us drinks, if you like. There’s a bottle of fizzy elderflower in the fridge. I assumed you wouldn’t be drinking.’
Dylan had set the table and turned the roast potatoes. She took off her coat, opened the bottle and minutes later they were clinking glasses.
‘Great size kitchen,’ she said and looked around. ‘Your place is much bigger than my cottage.’
‘Yeah, it’s not bad. Grew up here. Harry and I have tried to put our own mark on it. We got rid of the chintz wallpaper in the lounge and a mate replaced the old avocado bathroom. I’d love a new kitchen. Pine’s not really my thing. But we insisted on paying Mum and Dad the going rate of rent so that they could take on the mortgage of a small bungalow for their retirement – that was all before they decided to settle in Italy. Their money is tied up in the business, you see. It means there’s nothing left over for further changes here. I suggested they sell this place, Harry and I would rent elsewhere, but they wouldn’t hear of it as it’s so close to the site for us.’
‘I can’t wait to get out of renting. I want to invest my earnings. I’ve saved up, so hopefully in a year or two… whereas your rent, in a way, it’s being re-invested into your parents’ estate – and your future, I suppose?’
‘Yep. Harry and I will inherit at some point – hopefully not for a long time though.’
Over lunch he told her about his parents’ trips to the Amalfi Coast, specifically Vietri sul Mare, a fishing village where his mother came from, with cliffside restaurants, unobtrusive avenues and traditional ceramics. Growing up there had made his mum’s move to Devon easy, as she was used to the coastal life and loved scones as much as the pear and ricotta cake popular in her hometown.
‘Sounds wonderful. Want to hear about the sights where my parents live in Manchester? The house is five minutes from a motorway and not far from a row of tower blocks.’ A smile flickered across her mouth. ‘Although the truth is, it was a brilliant place to grow up, with a lovely park nearby and amazing cafés. I miss the museums, the city vibe, the eclectic nature of everything in the centre, from the shops, to buskers, to passersby. The one thing that makes Cornwall feel like home is that the locals are as friendly as Mancunians.’
‘Us Devonians ain’t so bad,’ he said and sat down again.
She jerked her head towards the window. ‘Big garden. Dad always used to joke that his and Mum’s was the size of a postage stamp.’
Dylan gazed outside. ‘The garden is Harry’s terrain. Last week, on Instagram, he shared photos of a botanical park he’d visited. Not much interested in plants myself.’
‘I’d love to see them.’
‘They aren’t there any more. Harry put them in his story so they disappeared after twenty-four hours.’ Dylan shook his head. ‘I can’t keep up to be honest. His itinerary is ever-changing.’
‘When’s he back from travelling?’
‘God knows. I thought he’d be back by now. He keeps delaying his return. Having too much fun. But then my brother always has been more adventurous than me.’
‘You don’t mind? Isn’t the business difficult to run without him?’
‘I have to admit, it annoyed me at first but I make do. And recently I hired a great manager, Jags. The business has gradually expanded in recent years. It was time anyway. The nature of the work has changed over time, too, so we’ve been used to adapting and taking on new staff. Most stuff used to be taken to a landfill. Now there are regulations governing the environmental impact and customers make more demands in terms of ensuring what we take away is recycled where possible.’
‘Which is a good thing.’
‘Agreed.’ Dylan took the chicken out of the oven.
Conversation faded whilst they ate the roast and Lili secretly basked in his compliments about the crumble. He wouldn’t let her help wash up, so she nipped upstairs to use the bathroom. A few minutes looking at the bags in the warehouse and she’d be gone. Except part of her didn’t want to leave. Visiting Dylan had felt… comfortable, companionable. It was a feeling that had been missing from her life these last months – little moments of happiness. There had been many of them with Em, and Lili wished she could recall every single one. She’d always believed making new memories with her friend would never stop.
She was about to go back downstairs when a framed poster caught her attention, visible past the door, on the wall in a nearby bedroom. It was of a concert headlined by Caravan Palace – the same as Em’s poster! Underneath, on a desk, was a stack of books, on top of a chest of drawers, all of them musicians’ biographies… Ozzie Osbourne, Kylie, Elton John, Jay Z, Bob Dylan, Melanie C.
Dylan cleared his throat behind her. ‘I thought you’d got lost,’ he said, ‘but the house isn’t that big.’
She jumped and turned around. ‘Sorry… didn’t mean to pry… I just saw that poster. Em loved Caravan Palace. Have you seen them live?’
‘Oh, this isn’t my room. Harry’s the musical boffin.’ He hesitated and led her in. On the wall was a guitar. ‘He was in a band at school and still meets his mates to jam now and again.’ Dylan pointed to the poster. ‘He loves their Parisian vibe.’
The room was so neat – vacuumed, not a crease in the bed cover. A leather jacket hung from a peg on the wall.
‘Great coat.’
‘His pride and joy. The stallholder said it once belonged to Adam Levine. I’m not convinced but Harry believes it and that’s all that matters.’ He shook his head. ‘Music means everything to him. Any genre. Big or small artists. Big or small venues. He always talks about going to Vegas, one day, to catch a singer who might have a residency there. The ultimate experience, he reckons. And he does love a scratch card – probably thinks he’ll win big in the casinos.’
‘Em wanted to visit there too! In fact we booked a trip for our approaching thirtieth birthdays. Well, the hotel, at least.’
‘What a shame you didn’t get to go,’ he said and closed the door to Harry’s room behind them as they left. They went downstairs.
‘I still need to cancel it.’
