Chapter 25: A New Beginning

A very loud growl erupted from my belly. Christine smirked at me and I did my best to look contrite.

“Sorry,” I said. “Skipped breakfast. When I made up my mind—”

“I understand.” She gave me a funny little smile. “Tell you what, I’ll take you home and feed you. How does that sound? I mean, I remember what it was like as a starving student. But then, you really shouldn’t be starving, should you? You were pretty set up for student life before Clarissa’s will was sorted as I understand it.”

I shrugged. My relative wealth was still a source of embarrassment to me when confronted by people who knew about it.

“Actually,” I said, “it’s a kind offer and all, but I’d rather not. It’s not you, it’s...” I gestured to the headstone. “This is one thing, but I don’t think I’m ready to go back to the house.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. I should have realised.”

“And besides, have you ever had breakfast at my sister’s place? I did pretty much every day over the Christmas holidays. It’s fantastic.”

“I’ll bet. She’s a terrific cook.”

“Why don’t you join me?”

She shook her head. “No. No, that wouldn’t feel right. For either of us.”

I shrugged.

“I guess this is goodbye then, Paul. I don’t know when we’ll bump into each other again.”

“Vicky’s wedding? Have you been invited?”

She shook her head. “It’s a small affair, from what I’ve heard.” She held out her hand for me to shake. “It was nice to know you, Paul Robertson.”

“Likewise. Eventually.”

She smiled at my reference to how we hadn’t gotten along at first. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that. You take care of yourself, you hear?”

“I’ll try to.”

“Good. I’ll leave the two of you alone for a while and come back later.”

“No. It’s okay. You stay. I’m ... I’m done here.” I nodded, to myself as much as anything else. “I’m done here.”

Following breakfast at Millie’s, Vicky insisted I visit her new house, which I hadn’t seen yet since she’d only moved in a couple of weeks ago. There had been some problem with the property chain that Vicky was very vague about. I decided to ask Will about it. He might not tell me because of the whole client confidentiality thing, but Vicky was family and it sounded like it might be a good case for me to study from a professional point of view, so it was worth asking.

It was a nice house. Large and modern. The kitchen/breakfast room was particularly impressive—no surprise there then. The dining room had a large, full bookcase against one wall (not filled with just books mind you, this is where she kept her CDs and DVDs too). The huge lounge, with its French Doors onto the garden, was very nice. The master bedroom was almost as large as the lounge and the second bedroom, the one she’d reserved for me, was much bigger than my room in the old house.

All in all, it was a very nice home. It just wasn’t my home. And it never would be. I think that was when I sorted out in my mind my living arrangements for the following year when we had to vacate Wintersmith, and beyond. I just needed to run it past a couple of people first.

And the first of those people was Will. I sent him a text as I left Vicky’s to ask if he was free to talk that afternoon and although I certainly hadn’t been angling for it, I wasn’t surprised when he not only said yes but invited me over for Sunday Lunch beforehand too.

After lunch—it was nice to have homemade Sunday Lunch for once instead of yet another pub carvery—I pitched my idea to Will and was not surprised that he agreed it was a good idea. We then spent a couple of hours going over the idea in general terms. Obviously, I had the funds for what I wanted, although I’d have to free them up from one of my investment accounts which Will said he could arrange for me. Will was also keen to point out that while it was a good time to enter the market, it might prove more difficult to find a suitable investment than I thought.

By the time we’d gone over things a couple of times and had a quick look on the internet to see what was available, it was mid-afternoon. I got a text from Vanessa reminding me that the train was due to arrive in Westmouth in half an hour and that I’d agreed to pick them up. So I said my goodbyes to Will and his family and trundled off to provide my free taxi service.

I wasn’t allowed on the platform at the station without a ticket, so I waited for the girls on the concourse. Both seemed happy to see me when they arrived. Imogen gave me a firm hug. Vanessa gave me a very girlfriendly greeting, even though she was not my girlfriend (in name).

“So,” Imogen said from the back seat once we were in the car—Vanessa sat up front next to me. “Anything interesting happened while we were away?”

“A couple of things.”

“Such as?” Vanessa asked.

“It can wait until we get back. I need to talk to Mark as well as you two. In the meantime, how was your trip?”

“Oh, no you don’t,” said Imogen. “You don’t dangle something like that in front of us and then change the subject.”

“When we get back,” I said. “And not before.”

Both girls huffed. I sighed.

“Okay. I’ll tell you one of the two.” I took a deep breath. “I went to see Clarissa.”

This time, both girls gasped, then spoke at the same time. “What?” “Are you okay?”

“I went to see Clarissa. At the cemetery. And I’m fine. Better than fine actually. It was ... Cathartic. I think that’s the best word for it.”

“What do you mean?” said Vanessa.

“I don’t know. Not really. I just know, having been there now, that it was something I had to do. Something I perhaps should have done a long time ago.”

“You got that right,” said Imogen. “The way I understand it, you should have gone a very long time ago. Before you even went to America, maybe.”

“Maybe.”

“Did it work?” Vanessa asked.

I shrugged. I do that a lot. Had you noticed? “I don’t know. Not yet. Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

“Why today?” asked Imogen. “What made you go today?”

I sighed. “It’s her birthday. Or would have been. If she hadn’t ... You know.”

“Oh, Paul!” said Vanessa. She put her hand on my leg and squeezed gently. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because then you would have cancelled your trip—”

“Of course, we would have cancelled it,” said Imogen.

“—and that wouldn’t have been fair on you,” I finished. “Wasn’t there a party you were going to or something?”

I saw Imogen nod in the rear-view mirror. “But that didn’t matter.”

“It did to me. You two have been planning this for a while, and by the time I realised when it was because, if I’m honest, I didn’t take that much notice of the date when you told me about it, you were both all excited about it. So I didn’t say anything.” I paused. “And, actually, it’s probably a good thing you weren’t here. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I probably wouldn’t have gone if you had been. I’d have used you all as ... I don’t know ... An excuse. Some kind of security blanket for something.”

Vanessa tilted her head and said, “Makes sense. I guess.”

“No, it doesn’t,” said Imogen. “It makes no sense at all.”

“It does to me,” I said. “Doesn’t matter though. What’s done is done. It’s over with.”

We were almost up the hill by now, but as I eased the car through the gates onto campus, I said, casually, “Oh, and I met Chloe Goodman.”

“What?” they said at the exact same time.

In the short time it took to get to the Wintersmith car park, the girls badgered me until I agreed to tell them about meeting Chloe once we got back to my room. And, naturally, both of them insisted that going back to my room took priority over dropping their bags off in their own rooms.

After giving them the short version—I was working in the library and she wanted to use the same desk, telling them nothing about me telling her my story—I figured that since I had both the girls and Mark in the room, it was as good a time as any to talk to them about the future.

“Listen, guys, have any of you given any thought to where you’re going to live next year?”

Imogen shook her head but Vanessa said, “Well, I kind of assumed that we’d get one of those flats further down the hill. You know, like your friend has. If you guys wanted to, I mean.” She looked around at each of us in turn.