Page 2 of Starting Over at Halesmere House
‘How was that?’
The quiet understanding in his few words had her nodding fiercely as she tried to hold back the sadness threatening tears for this final goodbye. So much in her life had changed and he had been one of the few constants at her side, along with Kelly, and her family.
‘The best. She’s a beauty.’ Alice steeled herself against the sympathy she saw in his gaze. ‘You will let me know if you hear anything? I haven’t got a place but if they decide to sell or even scrap her, then I’m first in the queue, okay? I’ll find a lock-up somewhere.’
‘I will. You know I will. She’s had your name on her for a long time; your dad saw to that. Every one of our lads knew they had to look after her or they’d have him to answer to.’
Ray held out a hand, the key to her bright yellow Porsche Boxster sitting on his palm. She stared at it, a fresh wave of sorrow bringing the realisation that this beloved car was the only remaining link between her old life and the new one waiting a few miles down the road.
‘Go easy on yourself, Alice. You know where we are if you need anything.’
‘Thank you.’ This time a single tear did slide down her cheek and she swiped it away to give him a smile. ‘And you know where I am if you’re ever stuck for a driver.’
‘I do.’ Ray grinned. ‘But I reckon that flower meadow is going to be keeping you busy enough.’
‘Not so busy that I can’t do the occasional run to Aberdeen or Cornwall if you need me.’
The mention of the meadow had a flurry of doubts rushing into her mind. Was she really doing the right thing, moving north, and taking on land at Halesmere to grow her own flowers and arrange them, teach others to do the same? But it was far too late to allow misgivings now; all decisions were made and this final drive in the lorry had put a physical distance between the past year and now to match the crushing emotional one.
‘I know.’ Ray jangled the key to her Porsche, and she swapped it for the cab’s. ‘You’re still part of the family, no matter where you are. Keep in touch.’
He held out his arms and she hesitated before walking into them, feeling the familiar, solid kindness of the man who’d been her dad’s right hand for as long as she could remember. Ray had watched over her for years, had stepped in at work on the odd occasion when she’d needed him, and his family was her family. The business had been like that, one big family. Until she’d sold it and had let go of everything she’d known and loved. This was it. This was goodbye.
‘I know you didn’t want a fuss, but we couldn’t let you go without something to mark the occasion. So we clubbed together and got you a gift.’
‘That’s very generous, Ray, thank you. But you’ve got that look again, the one that means you’re very pleased with yourself.’ Alice’s tone was purposely light as they separated. ‘And that makes me suspicious because it’s the one you always give me when you’re about to tell me something I might not want to hear.’
‘You’ll just have to wait and see. You’ll know when it arrives why we didn’t spring it on you at the yard before you left.’
‘That sounds ominous.’ She was twisting the key between her fingers.
‘It’s not, nothing to worry about. Something you said you wanted. Just remember, Alice, that you always see things through and that’s why we got it. And if you want anyone to blame, it was my idea.’
‘Okay. Thank you.’ Alice couldn’t think what Ray might have chosen for a goodbye present that they couldn’t have gifted her in person. A wave of shame followed; she didn’t feel deserving of a gift from her colleagues. She’d sold the company and let go of her dad’s dream to start this new life.
She wished she could hang on to this moment suspended between her two lives for a bit longer. This was still a day when old decisions were made, and new ones not yet required. She never used to be like this; she’d spent her career making difficult choices and acting on them to keep the haulage business thriving. But when life swerved sharply out of control the way hers had, with her marriage ending almost overnight, worry and uncertainty liked to make themselves apparent in ways they didn’t used to.
‘Go on, then,’ she said lightly. ‘You’ve got a long run and you’ve already done me a big favour, letting me bring the lorry this far for old times’ sake.’
Ray nodded sadly and she really didn’t want to watch him drive off and take her favourite cab with him. She settled in the Porsche, battling back tears she swore would be the last, barely noticing the familiar roar of the engine she adored. She raised a hand as she gunned the car down the lane and away from the only life she’d ever known.
Alice couldn’t fit many belongings in her two-seater car, and she tried to keep out of the removal men’s way when they arrived at her new home soon after she did. Pear Tree Barn had been named for the crooked and ancient trees that lined one side of the garden, and she wondered if that also accounted for the pale green and white decor throughout the house.
A cosy Lakeland barn conversion was her home now, not the cheerful three-bedroomed house she’d bought new with her ex-husband in a pleasant suburb of Sheffield. Everything about the barn was unfamiliar and, as it had been a much-loved holiday home until now, she’d paid the previous owners to leave everything behind, including all soft furnishings and some of the kitchen equipment. She wanted no shared belongings from her marriage here and her old house had seemed as bereft as she did once her ex-husband had removed all that was his. How easy the practical process and yet so difficult she had found it, dividing their home into two separate ones.
‘Any chance of a brew, please?’ One of the three removal men paused in her kitchen, a large cardboard box secure in a pair of hefty arms. ‘We could do with one for the road before we go.’
‘Of course. Sorry, I should’ve sorted one out sooner.’ Alice glanced at the kettle still in its box sitting beside the Aga. ‘What would you like?’
‘Two teas, one sugar in each and a coffee with none. That all right?’
‘Absolutely. Milk?’
‘Please.’
‘Right. Be as quick as I can.’ She unpacked her shiny whistling kettle, filled it and set it on the Aga’s boiling plate. She’d never cooked on an Aga before and she was looking forward to trying. She’d bought a few food essentials before leaving Sheffield and was irritated to realise she’d forgotten milk. She removed the kettle from the Aga and shouted up the stairs.
‘Just nipping to the shop for milk; I won’t be long.’
