As Elliot negotiates the lunchtime traffic, I reflect upon the fact that you never know from one day to the next what life will throw at you.
I lost a boyfriend but gained a brother.
‘You are fine with this, aren’t you?’ Elliot asks, checking for the umpteenth time.
‘Yes. What impressed me was that Jake hasn’t waded in throwing money at us and trying to take over. He’s brokered a deal and it works all round.’
‘It’s such a relief to hear you say that, Lexie. After the turmoil of the last couple of months it’s going to be nice to pay ourselves back and get those credit cards cleared at last. And to know that we have some good pay days coming our way. The Gardeners of Versailles – a Modern-Day Legacy is going to be a big success, I know it, and this is just the beginning for us.’
It’s true enough, everything is looking good, but for me the world is tarnished, because my heart is in tatters.
Right now, all I have is work to keep me going.
I’ll survive because life goes on and I’m back spending lots of time with Maisie and contemplating the arrival of little Arlan, Harry, or Thomas – whichever name ends up being chosen. Then there are Jacob and Reece, two live wires who tire me out after just an afternoon, so I have no idea how Brooke and Mum cope. But they do. So, I’m counting the blessings I do have and trying not to dwell upon this enormous sense of loss that is constantly hovering around me like a cloak.
After cutting all contact with Ronan the day of that fateful visit, filming wasn’t quite the same for the rest of our stay. Yvette stood in for him and Ronan refused the ex gratia payment Elliot offered by way of compensation for the cancelled sessions.
I had no involvement with it whatsoever and was surprised when I received a recorded delivery from Ronan with the three missing notebooks inside. Clearly, he’d finished with them and I didn’t even have the heart to see for myself what he had discovered. I felt that my grandma’s memory had been betrayed by a man I’d trusted implicitly. Not just with her things but with my heart. I slipped them back into the box and sealed it this time, ready for the journey home.
Look ahead, Lexie, I keep reminding myself. Look ahead.
‘This is it,’ Elliot confirms, pulling up at a barrier and punching in the code Jake texted him. The car park is small and there are only two free visitors’ spaces left, marked up ‘Betterwood Productions’.
‘Nice,’ I comment, thinking the old Jake would have said anything outside London was a huge mistake. But he lived his life out of hotels, as we both did, Monday to Friday, in those days. Getting home each night wasn’t a priority for either of us.
By contrast this high quality, period building on Woodstock Road is a prime city-centre location, refurbished to a very high spec indeed.
‘Ready for this?’ Elliot asks and I nod as we make our way to the rear reception door.
We aren’t kept waiting for long and Jake himself appears as the lift doors open.
‘Welcome to Betterwood Productions,’ Jake says, stepping forward with a big smile on his face. He shakes Elliot’s hand enthusiastically and throws his arms around me in a brotherly hug.
‘I hope the traffic wasn’t too bad,’ he adds.
‘Pretty good, actually. This is very smart. It’s a beautiful building, Jake.’
He nods. ‘A lucky find. Right, follow me and we’ll organise some coffees.’
There are three floors, and he whisks us straight up to the top and into a ridiculously large conference room. It has the most enormous table I’ve ever seen.
‘It came with the building,’ Jake informs us. ‘It’s growing on me. As you can see, we don’t use this room for meetings, it’s my office by default. The acoustics aren’t good because of the high ceilings and how often do you have this many people in one meeting? So, I work my way around it.’
That’s obvious from the various folders that are stacked in neat little piles at regular intervals.
‘Looks like business is brisk,’ Elliot remarks.
‘I’m not complaining, and the interest in your series has been beneficial all round. Please take a seat. Let’s use this end of the boat, as I call it.’
It does look rather like a boat, oval and shiny. But it’s a beautiful room with tall, very elegant sash windows and reclaimed wooden shutters pulled back to let the light flood in.
That’s yet another surprise I never expected, to be doing ongoing business with my brother.
It seems everyone is happy these days. Well, almost everyone.
‘I’m a little early, Mum,’ I say, as she answers the door. She leans in to give me a hug, before I even have chance to place a foot over the threshold.
Stepping inside, I still find it strange walking into this compact little house she seems to love so much.
‘Time for a cup of tea, then, Lexie, before we head off. It’s so nice to be able to pop into town for lunch together like this. I’m glad things are working out so well for you and Elliot.’
Life is less pressured when you have a little money in the bank and another project lined up ready to go. Once my contract ends as a presenter for Morning Sunshine, I’ve already told them I won’t be available and that this will be my last job as a presenter.
‘Life is a lot easier these days, thankfully. How are the boys?’
Mum turns to look at me, kettle in hand.
‘Poor Brooke. She tried them in separate bedrooms, then felt guilty for splitting them up. They are happier together, but they wake each other up. It’s very weird. It’s like they sleep in turns. And they are all Mumma again, at the moment; which is upsetting Jake, of course, because only a couple of weeks ago they were shrieking and clinging to his leg as he tried to leave for work in the mornings. But that’s how it is with kids.’
As I look around, virtually every single thing I see is new, just the odd item Mum would never part with. None of them have any value. I thought she might feel sad getting rid of the accumulation of almost thirty years of stuff in the old house, but quite the reverse. She said it was cathartic, although she did shed a tear as I stood next to her when she turned the key in the door of the family home for the very last time.
But Jake was right. When I arrived back from France and visited the house for what was to be the penultimate time, I saw it with fresh eyes. Why hadn’t I noticed how tired it was looking and how many things needed attention? I guess when you know and love a place, you don’t see it afresh every time you’re there; it’s imprinted on your memory. I felt sad, but also glad that she was moving on then, because finally I knew that it was the right thing for her to do.
‘I’m glad you came early, because we need to have a talk. A serious one.’
I pinch a biscuit off the plate she carries across to the table and add half a spoonful of sugar to my Earl Grey tea before sitting down.
‘Serious? That’s sound ominous,’ I joke.
‘It is,’ she sighs. Mum sets herself down opposite me rather heavily, as if she isn’t relishing the thought of what she’s about to say.
‘I had a phone call from Ronan. I have no idea what went wrong between the two of you, but he was very emotional. He asked if he could send something through to me in the post. It’s a book, and he really wants you to read it.’