Kitabı oku: «A Greek Affair», sayfa 2

A New Routine

The problem with being the sole breadwinner is that you can’t afford to take any risks, whatsoever. There is no safety net. Running this little, two-bed stone cottage in the middle of the Forest of Dean is a modest enough outlay by a lot of people’s standards. However, I do appreciate the fact that we are still luckier than many, because I’m a survivor and Rosie is, too. We have learnt to live quite happily within our means. Yes, I’d love the big house with half an acre and two cars sitting on the drive. Who wouldn’t? But the cottage is pretty, and we’re surrounded by stunning views and forest walks.

To the front of the property is a road which leads on down to a cul-de-sac. We don’t get passing traffic, only neighbours coming and going. While our rear garden is small, it backs onto a swathe of forestry commission land. We have all the benefits of some beautiful, old trees with none of the worry of having to maintain them.

We don’t want for anything and I figure that teaching Rosie to live on a budget is a good discipline. It’s something that has become second nature to her and she’s used to making choices and accepting that she can’t simply ask and have.

I was holidaying in Italy when Antonio Castelli first crossed my path; his dark hair and wide smile was the first thing that attracted me to him. When I returned three months later to meet his parents, Guido and Zita, we had already fallen madly in love – the sort of madness that empties your head of everything else – and life became a waiting game. It was agony being parted and I lived for our evening chats via Skype and the constant stream of texts we exchanged daily. I slept with my phone under my pillow and I know Antonio did the same.

Then we had the agonising decision of where we would settle after the wedding. I felt awful for his family when, after careful consideration, we decided to make the UK our home. Mum and Dad were relieved, but knowing that Antonio’s family were so far away was a little cloud on our new horizon. And the paperwork to make it happen was the next nightmare on our journey.

Little did I know that less than three years later it would all be over, leaving me clutching little Rosie to ease the pain in my heart. But now that’s all firmly in the past and I’m extremely proud of my confident little nine-year-old, who is probably a little bit wiser than her years because of what we’ve been through. I was determined to conquer whatever obstacles life placed in front of us because nothing is going to rob us of the happiness we deserve.

I scan down the emails in my inbox and a smile breaks out on my face. One of the emails is a link to the press release issued by the Traveller Abroad publicity team and there it is – a photo, front and centre, the Caroline Blakely handing little old me the trophy.

When I rang the photographic agency to break the news that I was drastically cutting back on my hours, they were shocked, but for me it’s a step forward. Next on the to-do list is a total re-design of the website, taking out anything related to my photographic work. Then I need to maximise advertising space, add a rolling banner so that I can accommodate a number of premium rate advertisers instead of just the one, and review my schedule of charges.

I reach out for my coffee mug, only to find it empty.

‘Now that’s another thing you need to tackle, Leah,’ I admonish myself.

If I’m going to be sitting here working very long days, and nights, in order to develop The Sun Seeker’s Guide to a Happy Holiday into one of the best blogs out there, I need to stop comfort eating. It’s a habit I’ve developed to get me through those long evenings with only the glow of the computer screen to keep me company. I’m the first to admit that I often find myself reaching out for a biscuit, or four, and after a string of cups of very strong coffee I tell myself it’s wine o’clock. Okay, so I only have the one glass but it’s a large one, as I convince myself I deserve a reward for working such long hours.

All that stops now – no cheating. Also, no biscuits, or cake, or chocolate. One coffee to get me going in the morning and then I’m on the water and herbal teas.

A wicked grin creeps over my face. But think of the upside! No more dashing around the house before breakfast getting suited and booted, spending half an hour on hair and make-up. I can throw on a jumper over my PJs and leave early enough to get that prized parking space right next to the school gates. The only space nestled between the end of the zig-zag lines and the start of the double yellows. The one everyone covets so they can watch their little darlings walk the three strides up to the member of staff on duty who ushers them inside.

I glance across at the sparkly crystal award sitting in pride of place in the middle of the bookshelf. Sally was right: I deserve this and I’m going to make it work.

~

‘Mum, are you really going to be around all the time now?’

‘Mostly. Why?’

‘I’ll still spend time with Grandma and Granddad, won’t I?’

Rosie is sitting opposite me at the kitchen table, her little face crinkled up into a frown.

‘Of course you will. You can still have sleepovers whenever you want and we can pop over after school at any time for a visit.’

I can see she’s putting this together and I know there’s a question coming.

‘When someone dies, where do they go?’

Ah. I suspect someone at school has lost a grandparent and the kids have been talking.

‘Well, your soul goes to another place. Some people call that heaven. But usually people only die after they have had a long and happy life and they leave behind lots of wonderful memories.’

Now she’s toying with the chips on the plate in front of her, aimlessly pushing them around.

‘But what if you don’t want them to go?’

I walk around the table and kneel down next to her, easing the fork out of her hand.

‘When we truly love someone, they remain in here.’ I place my hand over my heart. Rosie’s eyes follow my every move. ‘They are always with us. Grandma and Granddad are fine, darling. There’s nothing at all to worry about.’

She hangs her head.

‘I don’t want anyone to die, Mum. I like things the way they are.’

I wrap my arms around her, planting a kiss on the top of her head and then smoothing back her long, dark brown hair away from her face.

‘Life is all about change, Rosie, and mostly that’s a good thing. The only thing that’s changing for us right now is that we’re going to have a new routine. Life won’t feel quite so rushed and I’ll be here whenever you need me. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?’

At last, the smile is back on that pretty little face of hers.

‘Yes, Mum. I like it when we can have dinner together and watch TV before bed.’

It’s always the small things that children miss when life gets hectic. There have been too many nights when I’ve missed dinner entirely, barely arriving back in time to put her to bed. It hasn’t been fair on Mum and Dad, and it hasn’t been fair on Rosie.

‘Well, I like that too and if you’ve finished here let’s quickly clear this away and curl up on the sofa, together.’

Her smile broadens enthusiastically and I find myself taking in every little detail. My little girl is growing up so very quickly and I wonder, fleetingly, how different life would have been for her if Antonio hadn’t left us. But he did, and I’ll never forgive him for that.