Hi everyone!
So, this is the resolution, the final installment, the conclusion, or whatever you want to call it. 'Aging well' will resume however.
You're all lovely and I've loved your reviews! Thank you so very much! x
She isn't quite sure how she ends up there. But she is sitting at the kitchen table, face down, neck bent so far her features are almost parallel with the hard surface a few centimetres from her.
She had never planned for it to turn out like this. She'd been here before, twice, abandoned by both parents she was plunged into uncertainty, worry, hurt, near insanity through relentlessly feeling on edge about what was going to go wrong next.
For once, in her sorry, little life. She thought she had been in control. She had her family, they had their home, she kept them healthy, she made them happy, secure, comfortable, everything she wasn't.
And still it had fallen apart.
And she absolutely no idea what she was going to do about it.
So, as if having suffered some sort of system meltdown, she sits, remarkably still, until he comes in 45 minutes or so later.
Her eyes are still fixed to the table, so she can't quite make out what his mood is, how he's feeling, what he's thinking. It confuses her that she isn't feeling the usual tingly, achy feeling inside her that she usually feels when he is angry or upset.
Suddenly, he throws a set of keys…no…just one key, at her and it bounces across the table and eventually settles a foot away from her fist with a peace-shattering, high pitched clang. She squeezes her eyes shut and wonders how on earth he is going to tell her he's leaving her, that it wasn't that he didn't care for her...but things had just gone stale. That he had found a younger, prettier, less messed up model, finally.
He speaks and she dreads what he is going to say, though it certainly isn't what she is expecting to hear.
"Do you remember, a very long time ago, you told me about a dream you had? About a big house in a smallish village outside London? It was a red brick village, as was the house and it had a big garden that we could have barbeques and parties in and our children could play out there and we'd know they were safe because we could see them from the window. And one of the outside walls had ivy all over it. There was a huge living area inside – with a living area and a kitchen – and a big stair case and out the front there was a drive and a hedge and enough ground left to plant some flowers that would make it look so colourful in the spring?"
She answers "Yes." Because she remembers it vividly, from a conversation they had a long time ago. She remembers because she would always formulate words in her head before she spoke to him, it didn't matter how comfortable she was in his presence, there was little she told him that she would forget, even down to the tiniest of details.
For the first time since their confrontation, she looks at him. To her surprise he is smiling slightly, one of those smiles that she could see more in his eyes than his mouth, as he nods to the table. To the key.
"It's yours."
For a moment, she wonders if she has looked up into a parallel universe.
"What?"
"Pick up the key…
He speaks in a low dulcet tone, the smile never leaving his face, his eyes boring into her very soul, and he reaches out his hand to her.
…and trust me."
Perhaps it is to spite her better judgement that she finds herself rolling the key between her fingers as she sits in the passenger seat, silent as he drives her to some unknown destination.
He pulls over not long after they have entered a smallish looking village. She looks out across him and in the light of the streetlamps she can see a park with plenty greenery and things for children to play on. There are no cold steel railings around it, but a small, soft hedge hugs it on each edge. In the distance she sees a small new build, presumably a school.
On the other side there is a little post box perched on a pavement and a row of red brick houses.
He doesn't speak until they have walked past the corner and down the straight street, past the row of red brick houses and come to a small crevice where she sees a pebble drive and a gate approaching.
"I was going to wait until tomorrow. But I think if I did that, you might have left me by then."
He deadpans, softly reaching up and squeezing her upper arm softly. His hand moves to her back and he guides her through the front gate.
She can barely believe her eyes.
She is faced with a house, detached from all the others, surrounded by garden on three sides and a tall fence sheltering it from neighbours. It appears to have two floors, maybe three. White windowsills frame large, light windows looking into empty rooms. Red brick. There is room at the front for a car or two and more than enough room to plant flowers. A big green front door warms her heart and ignites her soul, enticing her forward.
He whispers in her ear; "Wanna see inside?"
She nods.
"Use the key, then." He encourages, and she gingerly steps forwards.
Wooden floor, clean, white walls. The hallway. On the left, a doorway leading into a study, and a wide, wooden staircase. The hallway leads down straight to a utility room and bath room. She takes one last look at the hall; plenty of room for little pairs of shoes and coats and gym bags, before she moves through to the room on the right. He follows, smiling all the way.
She finds herself in a large kitchen, seemingly not quite finished. Space for a table against more wooden bannisters. A new set of stairs to the left of the entrance leads down three steps to what would be a living room, though it was now apparently a storage space for as yet unfitted kitchen units.
She can't explain the feeling she gets upon entering this house. All she knows is that it is profoundly bizarre; the way in which it reminds her of her late twenties, looking into his eyes as he passed her a scalpel over a corpse…
…and she slowly fell in love with him. Yes, it was certainly the exact same feeling.
It had happened before, she had been ogled by men before, she had seen inside a house before. And yet something was different this time, something felt inexplicably right about it and there was no way she could conjure up the strength inside herself to resist it. Just like his gaze, something about this house made her feel safe, content, happy.
She hadn't realised there would be so many similarities between finding the house of her dreams and discovering her soul mate.
Only once she has got her breath back does she start to piece things together in her head.
"You did all this?"
"Mmmhmm."
"For me?"
"For us! Where did you think all the money was going? Where did you think I'd been spending all my time?"
For a moment, she stops and looks around again, open mouthed, hardly believing. He continues to soak up his well-deserved glory.
"I found it, but it wasn't quite what you wanted on the inside, so I thought I'd get it sorted out for our anniversary. It's not quite finished because I thought we'd have tomorrow to do more before I brought you…"
"Harry, I can't believe it…"
She feels a surge of guilt, for 3 and a half years he has been searching high and low to find her this house, it had caused him sleepless nights and stress and worry and celibacy. But then she looks up and narrows her eyes at the smug expression on his face.
"Who's Lisa?"
His shoulders remain back, the smile doesn't leave his face. Tonight, he is on a roll, has an answer for everything.
"Do you honestly think I'd be any good at project managing? I found Lisa through Janet and she agreed to do it for a pretty reasonable price. And d'you know what? This isn't even the best bit. Close your eyes."
Doing as she is told, he takes her arm gently and takes her up the stairs in the hallway, telling her softly when to lift her feet. They get to the top and he moves behind her, holding his hands over her eyes as she shuffles gingerly on the carpet, giggling quietly. In a dramatic unveiling, he lifts his hands from her eyes and she blinks a few times, in an attempt to regain her sight. Before her is the landing, three walls ahead; two doors on each.
"Look in them!" He tells her excitedly.
So she does. The first is reasonably sized and already completely decorated, blue paint, and little stickers of vintage airplanes litter the walls. Dark coloured carpet, she notes. Probably wise. Kit's room.
The next one is a bit more neutral, with bunk beds and she smiles at the sentimentality of it all. They had tried to separate their middle children, but had finally decided it was a godsend that they enjoyed each others company, rather than a hindrance.
Hannah's room is yellow, and has a little border with giraffes and elephants and monkeys on it, running around the centre of the walls.
The next door she opens leads to a flight of stairs and she frowns. "It's an attic." He explains. "Kit could have it when he's too cool to hang out with us!"
Then there is a spare room. With enough room for a double bed for Pieter and Sara. And then there is their room, with the most wonderful view of the back garden. She can imagine the large oak right at the end one day being covered in rope-swings and tree houses.
"And that's it!" He concludes his tour, and she finally has the time to feel extraordinarily embarrassed of her behavior. For a moment, though she's not sure whether it is through embarrassment, relief or disbelief she closes her eyes and smiles, before erupting into full blown laughter. A blush has crept onto her cheeks by the time he looks at her questioningly and before he has the chance to speak, she has lifted a hand to the back of his neck and pulled him to her, resting her head in the crook of his neck, her other hand around his back as he clasps his hands low around her waist, cradling her there.
"Did I do good?"
She has to rest her face against his naked neck to stop herself from crying, with relief and utter utter shame.
"Yeah, you did good. Very good."
"Shall we get started then?"
She looks up, slightly confused.
"Nikki, there are a lot of rooms in this place. We have a hell of a lot of christening to do."
Told you, you could trust me ;)