Page 91 of A Secret Cornish Wish
We’re here this time to celebrate Eddie’s fortieth birthday. He’s decided to have a big party in the café and restaurant in St Felix he now runs with his partner, Dexter.
Even though we have all turned forty this year, or are going to, Eddie is the only one of us who’s having a party to celebrate. I assume he’s the only one, I certainly haven’t been invited to any other events. And to be honest I’m quite relieved – this trip has been costly enough and I don’t think I could have managed visits to London to see Mandy and Suzy, and I definitely can’t fly to Los Angeles should Rob decide he’s having a birthday bash. Not that he’d probably invite me anyway – I’m sure he has lots of celebrity friends he’ll be partying with come the end of August when his birthday falls.
And Mack, of course, being a year older than the rest of us celebrated his fortieth last year. Much to my surprise, Mack kept in touch when he returned to the US with Rob, not just with the group as a whole, but sometimes one-to-one with me, too.
When I finally announced to everyone that I was pregnant, he’d often send an email to check how I was getting on and then when Rosie arrived, he sent us a very cute pink fluffy rabbit perfect for a newborn, and also a basket full of lovely things for me.Something to pamper yourself with, was written on the notecard, which I couldn’t help but notice had a Monet print on the front, and I wondered to myself if he remembered our conversation.
Our emails to each other became less as I coped with the day-to-day trials of being a single mother, and Mack, I assumed, was getting on with his own life. They continued on and off until a couple of years ago. I heard via Claire, who still kept in touch with Rob, that Mack had moved away from LA and bought his own bar in New York. Although I longed to hear from him again, I knew he must be really busy getting the bar off the ground, and I hoped it was going well for him.
‘Have you got everything? I ask Rosie as we gather our luggage. ‘You’ve picked everything up?’
‘Yep.’ Rosie puts her Harry Potter rucksack over her small shoulders. ‘Do you want me to pull one of the suitcases?’
‘No, I can manage them. Could you carry Eddie’s gift, though?’
‘Sure I can.’
‘Be careful with it.’
‘Yes, Mum.’ Rosie sighs. ‘I’m always careful with your paintings.’
I look anxiously at the painting wrapped in bubble wrap and brown paper.
‘He’s going to love it, Mum. Stopping looking so worried.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘Of course he will!’ Rosie says with the easy confidence of a nine-year-old. ‘Now, have you got everything?’ she asks, mimicking me.
I grin at her. ‘Yes, now let’s go!’
I’m pleased it’s a dry sunny afternoon as we drag our bags and cases along the streets of St Felix towards Claire’s house.
Claire moved out of the house she shared with Jonathan about a year after Hetty’s funeral. They tried counselling, which I think from what Claire told me at the time actually only served to make Claire more aware of Jonathan’s failings, and rather than make her want to keep trying, it simply gave her the strength to leave her marriage and take her children with her.
Claire moved in with her parents to begin with as a temporary measure, but when her father died suddenly, she stayed to both look after and keep her mother company.
Recently, her mother became so ill with dementia that Claire was forced to find a nursing home for her, and her mother now resides in Camberley House in Bude, a specialist nursing home.
Claire’s parents were older than mine but I was so grateful after hearing about Claire’s experiences that my parents were still in fairly good health.
So Claire now lives in her old house, but with her own family. When we stayed with her before, her mother was still around, but this time it would just be us, Claire and her children.
‘You’re here!’ Claire looks delighted to see us as we stand on her doorstep with all our luggage. ‘It’s so good to see you again, Frankie.’ She gives me a hug, then turns her attention to Rosie. ‘Oh my goodness, how big are you now? You’ll be taller than me soon. Come in, come in. Let me help you with your things.’
Claire shows us to our room. Inside there’s a double bed and by its side a small blow-up camp bed for Rosie with a My Little Pony duvet that I assume must have belonged to Alice at one point.
‘We haven’t put anyone out, have we?’ I ask, looking around the room, which seems to be devoid of any personal possessions and looks very much like a guest room now. When we stayed last time, we had slept in the boys’ room, while they slept in with Alice on camp beds.
‘No, not at all. This used to be Mum’s room,’ Claire says, looking around wistfully. ‘We took all her things with her to Camberley, so she’d feel more at home there.’
‘How’s she getting on?’ I ask, while Rosie sits on the edge of the bed, bouncing up and down a little.
‘Oh, all right – you know?’ Claire sighs a little. ‘She’s much better there, but I do miss her being here with us.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘But at least I have you both for a few days. It will be nice to have some female company again. Alice is at uni most of the time now, and the boys are always out with their friends and girlfriend.’ She grimaces.
