Page 57 of The Only Way Is Up

‘It means we have some money.’ Gerald rested his palms on the kitchen table like he was about to make a speech in the Commons. ‘Enough to do some work on this house, if that’s what we want to do. Or we could sell this place and buy something different.’ As if on cue, a window slammed shut in a distant corner of the house. ‘Perhaps a little less draughty.’

Melanie remained silent, her eyes boring into the depths of Gerald’s soul. It was clear to Tom that the timing of this revelation wasn’t fooling her, but was it too little, too late?

Will glanced between his parents, clearly unsettled by his mother’s long silence. ‘What do you think, Mum?’

Tom silently scrubbed down the sink, thinking of second chances, and how important they were. He and Tessa had loved each other deeply, but they’d also taken each other for granted, become complacent in their marriage. Why make every moment count when you have years of moments laid out ahead of you? And then their very last moment together involved Tom shouting from the kitchen to ask Tessa to pick up some screenwash. Tessa had died a few hours later, and the last thing he’d said to her was ‘Get one of the five-litre ones’, not ‘I love you’ or ‘You mean the world to me’ or ‘I can’t wait for our baby to arrive’, but a request for fucking screenwash.

Gerald had a second chance here; an opportunity to make sure Melanie knew she was loved and valued every single day. And Tom wanted that second chance too, so maybe if he did a good thing for Gerald, karma would reward him with the woman he now knew he had fallen hopelessly in love with. How pathetic was that?

‘I think we should sell this place,’ said Melanie, the clatter of her fork on the plate pulling Tom back into the room. ‘It’s far too big and expensive to run. I’d love somewhere cosy and light that we can look after properly. Maybe three bedrooms and a nice garden.’

Don’t blink, Gerald, thought Tom. Let her lay her cards on the table.

‘I’m also thinking of going back to college,’ continued Melanie, the slight wobble in her voice betraying her nerves. ‘Getting my skills up to date so I can get an admin job. So that would help with our finances too, particularly once Will finishes school.’

Tom started filling the dishwasher and resisted the urge to give Melanie a cheer: she was offering to negotiate on the terms of a future partnership, rather than seeking punishment and reparations like many people in her situation would. She was a better person than all of them, but Gerald already knew that. His thoughts drifted to Daisy again, wondering what she was doing this evening. Maybe Christian had returned to Shipton Combe with her and was currently making Daisy’s dinner. It hurt to think about.

‘I’ve been considering that too,’ said Gerald. ‘Getting back to work, making myself useful. Property was always my thing and I’ve still got some contacts in the industry.’

‘Can I learn to drive?’ Will interjected. Tom turned and briefly caught his eye, feeling a small burst of pride. Will may have inherited his mother’s mild manner, but he’d learnt the importance of choosing your moment from his father.

‘Of course,’ Gerald replied jovially. ‘Your mother will need a little car if she’s at college or working, so perhaps you and she can share it until we see what the future holds for you.’

Will beamed at him. ‘This is going to be brilliant. I’m sorry you couldn’t come skiing, Dad. You’d have loved it.’

Gerald’s voice wobbled with emotion as he patted his son on the shoulder. ‘Well,’ he said quietly. ‘Perhaps next time.’

My work here is done, thought Tom, taking the apple crumble out of the AGA and putting it on the table with a jug of cream. ‘Thanks for dinner,’ he said with a warm smile as he grabbed his coat. ‘I’ll see myself out.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Daisy decided to take Hank to her meeting with Tom on Sunday morning, primarily so she could give him a walk on the school fields and introduce him to Henry as a potential playmate, but also so she and Tom would have something to talk about that might make things a little less frosty. She was banking on Tom being less upset with her if she had a cute dog in tow, particularly two days before Christmas.

Hank’s first night at Willow Cottage had been surprisingly successful – he hadn’t seemed remotely bothered about Simon and Archie’s departure and had settled down on Daisy’s lap for an hour or so of head scratches and belly rubs while she drank a peppermint tea and watched Love Actually before bed. Daisy had made a feeble attempt to get him to settle on his blanket in front of the wood burner but had given up after a few minutes of whining to let him sleep on her bed. Archie had warned her that he often slept with him and Simon, so Daisy hadn’t really expected to win that battle. Hank had curled up behind her knees and slept soundly, then licked her face urgently at 7 a.m. until Daisy carried him downstairs, put her coat and wellies over her pyjamas and let him outside. Daisy had to admit she’d found his furry warmth rather comforting, and at least he didn’t snore.

She packed Hank’s lead, snacks and a couple of chew toys in her shoulder bag along with her laptop and recipe notes, then tucked him under her arm as she opened the front door to the cottage. Yesterday’s wind and rain had given way to a sunny, mild day, a world away from the cold of the mountains. Daisy buttoned up her jacket and dug her sunglasses out of her bag; her hair was still damp from the shower but she left it to dry in the breeze. In the absence of her favourite blow-dry bar in Camden, nature would do nicely.

Minutes later, Daisy climbed the stairs to Tom’s office, noting with a tinge of regret that she hadn’t been invited to his house this time. She passed Reverend Miriam on the stairs, looking stressed and flustered and very much like she was running late for an impending birth in Bethlehem. Miriam mumbled a harried ‘Good morning’ and scuttled off, her yellow scarf flapping in her wake.

Tom was standing by the window when Daisy poked her head around his office’s open door. Henry was sitting nobly by his side.

‘Hey,’ she said, and he turned to give her a weak smile, before brightening up considerably at the sight of Hank in her arms.

‘Hey. Who’s this?’ Tom crossed the room, reaching out to relieve Daisy of either her bag or the dog. She passed him a wriggling Hank, who licked his face appreciatively.

‘His name’s Hank,’ Daisy said. ‘He belongs to my ex-husband and his husband.’ Tom’s brow furrowed briefly as he worked that concept through. ‘I’m dog-sitting for a few weeks.’ Daisy put her bag down and smiled at Tom fussing Hank’s ears. ‘Will Henry be OK with him?’ she asked.

‘He’ll be fine,’ Tom grinned. ‘Henry loves other dogs, don’t you?’ Henry gave a vague sniff in the direction of the new arrival, but otherwise looked unimpressed. ‘Do they hunt with him?’ he asked, putting Hank down next to Henry. ‘Jack Russells are amazing at flushing out rabbits.’

‘They live in north London,’ Daisy said with a wry smile. ‘The only thing Hank flushes out is bins and picnics.’

Daisy and Tom watched as Hank investigated every inch of Henry with his nose before doing a few laps of the office and finally cheekily settling into Henry’s bed. Henry huffed and settled down by the radiator, eyeing the intruder moodily.

‘Working this close to Christmas?’ said Daisy airily.

‘Writing school reports.’ Tom gestured towards the pile of cardboard folders on his desk. ‘The teachers have done their bit, now I’m supposed to read them all and write some personal remarks on each one before parents’ evenings in January. I’ve nearly finished.’ Daisy noticed the dark circles under his eyes. His hair needed a cut and there was another hole in the elbow of his navy jumper.

‘How was Reverend Miriam?’ Daisy wondered if there was any chance she might be offered a coffee, then decided it was unlikely.