Page 58 of One December Morning
Peg raised her eyebrows. ‘Yes…?’
‘I was just thinking how Life likes to keep us on our toes, doesn’t she? She’s full of little ironies, having jokes at our expense.’
Peg frowned. ‘Sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.’
‘Simply that, given the chance way we met, which, let’s face it, must have taxed the odds of chance severely, Life is now determined to be contrary by having you planning on moving further up north, and me planning on moving down here. It doesn’t seem right, does it? That Life should deny us the universe’s shenanigans.’
Peg looked down at her hands, clearing her throat. ‘Well, I’ve been thinking about that…and I’ve had an idea…possibly.’
Henry was disappointed. He didn’t want Peg to be practical. He wanted her to agree with him, to take delight in the direction that fate seemed to be leading them in.
‘And it’s probably not something we’d want to look at long-term,’ Peg added. ‘But it might provide a temporary solution for us before we commit ourselves to anything definite.’
Henry got up and crossed to the other side of the kitchen, taking out a loaf from the bread bin. ‘Would you mind?’ he asked. ‘Blanche’s cake was lovely, but it didn’t go very far.’
She shook her head. ‘Not at all, just take what you want.’
Henry quickly cut a couple of slices before adding them to the toaster. ‘Go on, I’m listening.’
‘It’s just that moving isn’t a quick process. And I can’t give up this place and swap it for a house I don’t truly love, so I’d want to take my time in finding somewhere just as nice. But I don’t want to be driving back and forth for ages either, so I wondered if we should swap houses? That way, I’d be close enough to Mim to keep an eye on her, and you’d be nearer to Adam and Sofia and would be able to suss out property around here, too.’ She gave him a quizzical look. ‘It’s not a perfect solution, and the timing of things might be tricky, but…’ She trailed off, looking less sure of herself than she had to start with. No doubt she’d clocked his dismay at the thought of them being so far apart again.
She screwed up her face. ‘Or is that a really stupid idea?’
‘No…it’s…’ Henry didn’t know what to say, and he was struggling to keep his expression under control. ‘I mean, in principle it sounds like a good idea, but you’ve never seen my house, Peg. It’s nothing like this. It’s very ordinary and…tired. A bit rough around the edges.’
‘Oh, that wouldn’t bother me. Besides, I’m sure it isn’t. I’m sure it’s perfectly lovely.’ She smiled, before turning back to her task. ‘Anyway, we don’t have to think about it now. Or at all…I just thought I’d float the idea out there seeing as it had poppedinto my head. It’s the manual labour – my brain goes off at tangents all the time when I’m doing stuff like this.’
‘Yes, it was…a good float,’ finished Henry lamely. ‘And we should definitely think about it.’ What else was he supposed to say?
Neither of them spoke for a moment, while Peg sloshed water around. ‘Have you heard any more about your pension?’ she asked eventually.
Henry nodded, the change of subject hitting hard. ‘I’ve had an email from the Teachers’ Pension Scheme, so it looks as if the wheels have already been set in motion. Actually, would you mind if I borrowed your laptop again? Only when it’s convenient. I need to reply to the email, but it’s not so easy on my phone.’
‘Sure. You can have it any time. As you can see, I’m set on other things. It’s upstairs on my desk. I’d get it for you, only…’ She held up her hands, which were clad in a pair of plastic gloves and covered in gunk.
‘Thanks,’ said Henry. ‘I’ll just eat my toast.’
Twenty minutes later, he headed up the stairs, feeling every one of his sixty-two years, plus about thirty more. How on earth could he explain to Peg how he was feeling when she clearly didn’t harbour the same emotions? And as for explaining about Mim, it was far too soon for revelations yet. Still, there were one or two other things he could do while he had the benefit of Peg’s laptop.
Henry had only been in her study briefly – to bring her a cup of tea one afternoon – and on that occasion he’d got no further than a couple of feet inside the door. It wasn’t a large room, but it overlooked the garden and he could see why Peg had chosen it. Given the work she did, it must provide the perfect inspiration. He crossed to the window to look outside. Staying in this house was some kind of dream. Perhaps it was all a dream…
Peg’s laptop was right where she said it would be, and he lifted it from the desk, pausing as he did so to peek at some of her paintings which lay beside it. He picked up a watercolour of some spring flowers – snowdrops, crocuses, hellebores and snake’s head fritillary – no more than a few brushstrokes depicting each, but each still instantly recognisable. It made his head itch to find the right words to go with them.
He reached down gingerly to unplug the charger from the wall, and was about to straighten again when he caught sight of something on the floor – something tucked behind a wastepaper basket – in fact, a whole stack of somethings. Laying the laptop down for a moment, he lifted the pile of paperbacks from the floor and placed them on the desk. They were out of order, but the whole series was there, and his heart began to beat uncomfortably in his chest. He rubbed at his breastbone, easing his shoulders back gently to open out his ribcage, the source of the pain. He should never have bent over like that, but it wasn’t the pain which was causing his heart to leap about.
Taking one of the titles from the stack, he picked up the laptop and charger and carried all three back to the kitchen.
Peg was rinsing one of the oven trays under the tap, her back to him.
‘Did you find it okay?’ she asked.
When Henry didn’t speak, she turned around, her gaze immediately flying to the book he was holding.
‘I didn’t know you had these,’ he said, rotating the cover towards her just in case there was any doubt which title it was. ‘Case Histories, by Kate Atkinson – the book I was reading on Christmas Day.’
Peg’s smile was frozen on her face. It was almost a grimace.
‘What were they doing in your study? Face down behind the bin.’
