‘How about if I come to yours now?’ Sophie asked, feeling a stab of pain. She knew her aunty loved her and she knew she was part of the family, but Anne had new commitments and responsibilities now, a new focus (two of them, actually), and Sophie felt a little left out.
* * *
Sighing, she cleared her solitary plate away and put her coat on. The sooner she told Anne the better, before she changed her mind and backed out of the whole thing.
As soon as she stepped over the threshold of her aunt’s compact retirement flat, Anne first enveloped her in a massive hug, then stepped back to scrutinise her.
‘You look well,’ she said, nodding to herself. ‘Better than you’ve looked for years. I was right – you needed a holiday. The sun agrees with you.’
Sophie smiled. ‘Everything about Tenerife agrees with me.’
Anne led her into the kitchen and flipped the switch on the kettle. ‘Tell me all about it. Did you have a good time?’
‘I did, thanks. It was lovely.’
‘Good. I’ve got some photos of the babies – want to see?’
‘Ooh, yes please!’ And for the next few minutes the pair of them cooed over tiny noses and starfish hands.
Eventually, Sophie plucked up the courage to tell Anne her news. ‘I’m… um… going back to Tenerife,’ she said.
‘I don’t blame you. I went there years ago and it was lovely. You might want to give one of the other islands a go, though. I hear Lanzarote is nice.’
‘I’ve got a job,’ she said hesitantly, wondering how her aunt would take the news.
‘Already? That was quick. You’ve only been home five minutes. I knew you’d find something, a smart girl like you. Where is it? What will you be doing?’
‘It’s in Tenerife, and I’ll be looking after an elderly gentleman who’s having a hip operation.’
Anne blinked. Then frowned. Then she made them both another cup of tea. Finally she said, ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
Sophie continued. ‘It’s a live-in position. But don’t worry, it’s only for three months, it’s not permanent.’
Her aunt frowned again. ‘I don’t know if I like the sound of it…’ She tapped her fingers against her cheek. ‘I just hope you’re not doing anything drastic on the rebound.’
Despite Anne’s obvious misgivings, Sophie had to smile. ‘I’m not on the rebound.’
‘No, but you’re grieving and sad, and I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.’
‘And I don’t want to regret not doing something,’ she replied gently. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’
‘What would your poor mother say?’ Anne fretted.
‘You know Mum; she’d tell me to go for it.’
Her aunt sighed. ‘You’re not wrong there.’ She got up from her chair and gathered Sophie into an awkward hug. ‘Are you sure about this?’
She nodded. ‘Just think of it as an extended holiday.’
‘Hmm. I’m still not happy, but you’re a grown woman and you’ve got to make your own choices in life. Just be careful, eh?’
‘I will,’ she promised. ‘Now, I’ve got to dash. There’s a lot to sort out.’
She tried not to let the tears pricking the back of her eyes fall as she said goodbye to her aunt. It was only for three months, and it wasn’t as though she was leaving Anne all alone. Anne had Denise and the babies to keep her occupied, and although she knew her aunt would miss her, the time would fly by and Sophie would be back before she knew it.
Once again, it felt incredibly sad to walk into the empty house. Without her mum there, it was as though the life and heart had been bled out of it, and all that was left was an empty shell. In some ways, she’d be glad to leave, but in others…
Sophie bit back a sob as she got to work. Keeping busy was the best remedy, because if she stopped to think about what she was doing she thought she might freak out. So she began the task of wrapping up her life in the UK (albeit temporarily) by doing some research on storage units and finding one not too far away. Some things she’d take to the charity shop, like her mum’s clothes for instance. Other things, very few other things, she’d take with her to Tenerife. The rest would go into storage for when she returned to the UK, because she’d need them in order to furnish whatever place she rented afterwards. Even three months’ storage costs added up to less than a hundred pounds and was far, far cheaper than having to buy everything new. She didn’t fancy starting from scratch.
She ordered some packing boxes, bubble wrap and tape from Amazon, and did some more research to find a man with a van who’d be prepared to move everything from the house to the storage facility.
It was time to be ruthless.
There was such a great deal to sort out – both her own stuff and her mum’s. And she didn’t even want to think about what was in the attic. She hadn’t been up there since last Christmas, and all she’d done then was grab the tree and the box of decorations, then shove them back up again afterwards. She dreaded having to go up into that gloomy, dusty space which was no doubt full of spiders and other assorted creepy-crawlies. Then there were all those boxes filled with memories; she wasn’t sure she was ready to face those either.
In the end she had to, because no one else was going to do it for her, and she didn’t intend to leave such personal things for the council to dispose of. The thought of her mother’s photos being sent to a landfill site broke her heart, so the following day she steeled herself to clamber up the precarious ladder, making sure to leave the back door unlocked and take her phone with her in case she needed rescuing. After all, she didn’t have very many days in which to get everything done before she jetted back to Tenerife, and she couldn’t afford to waste any of them being stuck in an attic.
The mere thought of the island filled her with excitement and trepidation in equal amounts. Now that she had returned to England, she wasn’t entirely sure she was making the right decision to fly back to Tenerife.
Here everything was familiar; she could speak the language for a start, and she could read the writing on packets and tins in the supermarket and know what they contained. She mightn’t have anywhere to live, but that could soon be rectified, as could the lack of a job. She was sure she’d find something, even if it wasn’t what she really wanted to do.
Ah, but that was half the problem, wasn’t it? She didn’t have a clue what she wanted to do.
Then there were the twins to consider. Now they were born they felt more real, and she knew she’d have trouble wrenching herself away once she’d got to cuddle them. She might only be away for three months, but that was a long time in the lives of a pair of tiny babies – they’d change so much during that time and she was going to miss it.
Bloomin’ heck, it was freezing up here, she thought, sticking her head into the attic and seeing her breath mist in front of her face.
Suddenly an image of sitting on that lovely terrace, staring out at the sea with the warm sun on her face and a plate of tapas on a table next to her popped into her mind. Not that she’d sat on the terrace, and she’d certainly not had anything to eat at the villa, tapas or otherwise. She had made herself and Hugo a cup of coffee, though, as they’d hashed out the details.