Page 65 of One December Morning
‘Have you ever gone walking at night?’ he asked a minute or so later. ‘And seen little snapshots of people’s lives through the lighted windows of their houses? Dusk is the best time, when no one has their curtains closed yet. I used to walk our dog and wonder about all the lives in those houses – what the people were doing, how they had spent their day – who they were with, and what they were talking about. And in all the times I watched them, I never once thought they were unhappy. I always pictured them warm and cosy, without a care in the world, and it hurtbecause I wasn’t one of them and I never thought I would be again.’
Peg nodded. ‘For me, it was people holding hands in the street, or the way a couple would smile at one another, looks so filled with tenderness, so full of love for their shared life, that the pain was almost unbearable. I felt as if I were the only single person alive on the planet. And it wasn’t that I wanted that kind of feeling with anyone else, just that it was a reminder that I’d had it, once, and lost it. That I would never feel that way again, never share in something so powerful it defied anything which stood in its way. The stupid thing was I don’t even think that’s what I had with Julian. We had a good marriage, don’t get me wrong, but that’s what hurt more than anything when he died – that he could give up on us, give up on our shared life so easily, and it made me see that he never even realised how powerful love could be.’
‘Perhaps he was afraid of it,’ offered Henry. ‘Thought himself unworthy.’
Peg swiped a hand across her cheek. ‘Perhaps,’ she agreed. ‘At times, I think I’ve hated him for that, but now all it does is make me sad, because he never understood it was there for the taking.’
Henry scuffed his feet in the gravel at the path’s edge. ‘Thing is though, Peg, that wasn’t all I saw when I looked at those houses. My place isn’t like yours – I live in a street, among a row of houses, which backs on to another row and looks out on another, and another, and another. And sometimes at night, I’d stare out across the rooftops, all those little boxes filled with light, like stars in the sky, all separate and never touching. But every now and again, I’d see something different. I’d see a tiny golden filament stretching from one to the other. I’d see lives connected, interconnected, and that gave me hope because I knew that we weren’t all destined to be alone forever.
‘Sometimes lives don’t stay separate. Sometimes they touch, and once they do, they become bound together, at first by just a tiny thread, but then, if they touch again, the thread becomes stronger. Lots of those lives won’t ever meet, but there are some who are drawn together because they can sense that thread just waiting to be picked up. I think that’s what we are, Peg.’
Peg stared down at the ground. The same ground where, four years ago, she had stood to say her goodbyes. To a man who had been a part of her past, yet one never destined for her future.
‘That’s the difference between us,’ she said. ‘Once upon a time, if I’d seen those boxes, all the little lights in the sky, the lives they held would have just run on endlessly into the night. Parallel. And never touching.’ She turned to Henry, lifting her face to his.
‘And now?’ he asked, vulnerable, his heart open and undefended.
Peg smiled and slipped her hand into his. ‘Now, I see hope,’ she said.
27
The cottage looked different somehow as they approached – as if Peg was seeing it for the first time – the tiny but perfectly formed front garden which, come summer, would be filled with hollyhocks and larkspur, the bright green front door which always looked so warm and inviting, the deep mullioned windows which gave it such an air of permanence, and the rosy glow of the building itself, all the things which she had fallen in love with on the very first day she and Julian had come to view it.
She stopped on the path, guarding herself against the doubt she expected to feel, the pain of her loss which, during moments like these, always came to the fore. She waited, but it didn’t arrive, and in its place was a small but growing burble of happiness, and she hugged it to her, precious and so very welcome after such an age without it. She hadn’t been happy for a long while, she realised. Only fooling herself.
Opening the back door, Peg felt as if she was holding her breath. She was scared that if she started to breathe normally again, what had passed between her and Henry would be lost. She wasn’t even sure what it was yet, but the thread was there, just as Henry had said it was, pulling them together, tighteningtheir bond. And it was the most scary and exhilarating thing all at once. Perhaps that’s what it was – she felt breathless.
And she was certain that Mim would notice. Mim, whose shrewdness was like a weather gauge and could sense any change in the atmosphere, but miraculously she didn’t comment, only asked with concern how Adam and Sofia were faring.
‘Remarkably okay,’ answered Peg. ‘And I think Blanche can expect a call from her daughter very soon. It’s not for me to say why, but I reckon Sofia has quite a few things she’ll want to share with her mum.’
‘Well, thank goodness for that,’ replied Mim. ‘She’s been beside herself with worry.’
Peg nodded. ‘It’s early days, but put it this way: I don’t think the threat of redundancy is the disaster it first appeared to be.’
‘Your family has had quite the ordeal over recent weeks,’ said Mim, turning her attention to Henry. ‘It’s about time your luck changed.’
Henry smiled. ‘You may well be right there, Mim, and who knows, maybe it’s changing as we speak.’ He flicked Peg a glance which made her stomach give a girlish skip. Honestly, anyone would think she was a teenager. She shuddered; she couldn’t think of anything worse.
‘I was thinking I’d make some tea,’ added Henry. ‘But would you mind if I took mine up to my room? The spirit is willing, but the flesh is decidedly longing for a nap.’
‘It’s been quite an afternoon,’ said Peg, turning to face him. ‘I don’t blame you. Are you sure you’re all right? Not overdone things?’
Henry shook his head, smiling. ‘Just tired.’ He paused. ‘Areyouokay?’
‘Desperate for a cuppa, but other than that…’ She smiled, shy, at the thought of what might yet pass between them. ‘ShallI bring you up a snack as well? You didn’t have much to eat at lunch.’
‘Can I just pinch a couple of biscuits for now? I think I need sleep more than I need food.’
Peg fetched the tin from the pantry and handed it to him. ‘Take it up with you. If you don’t, I’ll only eat them. I’ll bring your tea in a minute.’
She watched as Henry padded from the room, virtually soundless in his socks, his worn corduroys and bobbly jumper by now a familiar sight. She was suddenly reminded how out of place she’d felt in Sofia and Adam’s modern, sleek house. And it was just the same for Henry. But here, inherhouse, he was the perfect fit.
A few minutes later, she sat down at the table, her tea in front of her, as yet untouched. A new emotion was clamouring for her attention, and she was having difficulty deciding exactly what it was. Her head wanted her to believe it was doubt, wasstilltrying to convince her that’s what she should be feeling, but it wasn’t doubt, it was something more restless, something more anxious, more urgent…Her eyes widened in shock. She wasscared. Not about Henry, or not in the way she thought she ought to be feeling anyway. She wasn’t scared about having someone in her life again, about making room for him in her life, she was scared oflosinghim.
Because now, just at the point where she thought her life might be about to change, when fate had brought her and Henry together, and the thread which bound her to him was pulling them closer, that same fate was about to send them in opposite directions again – she moving to be closer to Mim, and Henry moving to be closer to his son.
Her hand flew to her chest, covering her heart as if seeking to protect it. Her eyes sought out her laptop, still on the table from where Henry had left it earlier. He’d been in the middle oflooking at properties before they had left to go to lunch. Might he have left a tab open? Had Henry already found the perfect place to live? She opened it up, desperate to know how far he had got with his research, but what she saw on the screen made no sense at all.
