Page 40 of Coming Home to Wishington Bay
‘I may have missed the last two.’
‘Holly.’ The concern, and disappointment, in that one word was almost palpable.
‘I know. But the last one is only a few months late.’
‘Holly, if you haven’t been to the previous one it’s more than a few months late, isn’t it?’
‘Well, yes. OK, if you’re going to be picky about it.’
‘You bet your arse I’m going to be picky about it.’
‘Fine. But I’ve found a private clinic near here that does them and I get the results in like two or three days. Once I’m back, I’ll register with a GP and get on the proper schedule again.’ Living in London wasn’t cheap but I knew I was lucky to have a well-paying job, and perhaps because I did very little other than that job, especially since I’d split with Paul, my bank account was pretty healthy, a fact that allowed me to at least get this important check done. I just had to hope that my bits and pieces were as healthy as my finances.
* * *
Thankfully, they were. The test came back clear and I was surprised at the relief I’d felt when I got them. I hadn’t even realised I’d been worried about it that much but I guess, at the back of my mind, it had just piled up with everything else.
I’d been sure to keep myself busy while I waited for the results and, as I got towards the end of another week, I was nearing completion of another room. This time I’d tackled the living room, giving it a coat of new brilliant white paint and moving a few things around. The heavy, plum velvet curtains from the windows had gone, along with their swags and tails. I’d also taken down the chintzy light cotton one that covered the glass door, and that I’d pulled closed the other night in an attempt to help Gabe catch up on as much sleep as he could.
Although I hadn’t attempted a bad burlesque move with any of these particular curtains, thereby ensuring they remained undamaged, unlike the guest room ones, I wasn’t sure if they’d be any good to anyone. I’d labelled the bag, and informed the lady at the charity shop, leaving it up to them to decide whether they were fit for sale or would just be added to the pile for rag weight. Either way, it was a win. The things were so heavy, I’d ached all the next day after getting them down and carrying them to the shop, so the fact that the shop got paid by weight for such items would definitely be a bonus.
I’d also arranged for a local builder to come in and give me a quote on opening up the downstairs, making it more open-plan. From my own sketches and thoughts, it seemed perfectly possible to open it up, thereby modernising it, but still retain the period features that gave it character. The final touch would be a set of bifolding doors that would span the full width of the wall, from the kitchen through to the dining and living area, effectively making almost one entire wall glass, so that wherever you looked out, you’d be able to see the beach and sea.
Obviously, it would depend on budget and time scales and feasibility. Although, I had a feeling that it could certainly increase the value on the property so, I supposed, if it wasn’t possible to get it done for a few months, there was the option of keeping the house for a little longer. If it would increase the value as I suspected, then surely that would make sense, and might give me a little longer to perhaps do a couple of other projects.
Gigi had left both Ned and I a certain amount of money – much more than either of us thought possible. We’d always known they’d had money and when Grandpa had been alive, they’d travelled and seen the world in style. But as he’d got older and his health had begun to fail, they’d been content to remain at home, and live a quieter life. Gigi had never scrimped and she’d often had a real spree when she’d come up to stay with me, but she loved her house, and the things in it, even though, as she’d said to me once, they were a little tired and faded, like her. I’d hugged her tightly then and told her she was the brightest, most vibrant person I’d ever known and that she would never, ever be anything but in my eyes.
For Ned and Carrie, she had set up two fully stocked trust funds with more than enough to pay for university fees, even allowing for inflation, plus a car and driving lessons and basically all that two children might need. Carrie and Ned had always had that image in their mind, and although it had taken longer than they’d hoped to get pregnant with one, they were still focused on that same dream. It broke all our hearts that Gigi had not lived to see her first great-grandchild but I knew she was up there, looking down, watching it all and clapping her hands in glee as she was wont to do, like a small excited child.
I sat there thinking about Gigi, and the letter she’d written me to be opened with the will, wondering about my plans for the house, and whether she would approve. I felt a wash of sadness and loneliness pass over me. I missed her so very much.
* * *
It was really quite surprising how much I was missing that funny little sausage dog, bearing in mind he wasn’t even mine. That surprise extended to how much I’d missed my interactions with Gabe, even though, for the most part they’d been quite short. Next door had been quiet for nearly a week now and considering that on that first day I’d hoped he keep out of my sight, I was now surprised at how much I was looking forward to seeing him again. Whenever that might be, of course.
It turned out to be two days later and I was a little shocked at the flush of overwhelming happiness and excitement I got as Bryan raced around from the front of the house and came rushing up the steps at me. I laughed, pushing my chair away from the table where I’d been sat under the shade of the sail, poring over cookery books.
‘Hello, you!’ I said, laughing as I bent my head and he rubbed his face against mine, his sausage body wiggling madly. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’
‘I missed you too.’ The deep voice made me jump.
‘Oh! Hi! I …’
‘Was talking to the dog. I know. Don’t worry.’ He laughed. ‘I know my place.’
‘I did sort of miss you too.’
Gabe gave me a head-tilt and studied me for a moment. ‘I’m not entirely sure what “sort of missing” someone is, but I’m going to take that. For now.’
‘Good. I mean, it’s a good thing.’ I laughed, looking up through my lashes, and frankly feeling a bit of an idiot. ‘Honestly.’
He shook his head at me, smiling.
‘So, where have you two been? Anywhere nice?’ I asked, keen to change the subject as I put the dog down and headed in to switch on the kettle. ‘Tea?’
‘Gasping. Thanks. I had a conference up in London for a week. One of the other doctors was making a bit of a trip of it with his wife. They’ve got a dog too and they’d found a dog-friendly hotel, so we all ended up staying there and his wife looked after Bryan while I was out. It was nice for him to have a little mate for a few days.’
‘Sounds like it worked out well,’ I agreed, handing him the mug.
