The House We Called Home Read online

  ‘I really should be going to yoga,’ Moira said, but then she seemed to take in the moment, sitting there with Stella, and changed her mind. ‘Go on then, what the hell,’ she said, lifting her legs up to rest on the chair opposite.

  Stella was just coming back from the bar with the fresh round when Graham and Amy appeared, glowing from the scorching sun.

  As soon as Moira saw them she looked at her watch and made to stand up. ‘I really should be going, you know. Yoga starts in a minute.’

  ‘But I’ve just got you a drink,’ Stella said, holding the two G&Ts in her hand. ‘You can’t go.’ Graham and Amy walked over to the table. ‘Do you two want a drink?’ Stella asked.

  Graham glanced at Moira a little sheepishly, aware that he was the one making her want to leave. ‘I’ll go if you want to stay,’ he said.

  Moira tutted. ‘Don’t be so silly,’ she said, clearly saving face, not wanting to be seen as pettily running away. ‘We can all stay.’

  ‘OK.’ He looked at Stella. ‘Yes thanks. I’ll have a beer.’

  Amy was just settling herself down when Stella said, ‘You can help me, Amy.’

  ‘Me? I’m just sitting down.’

  ‘Amy!’ Stella said, cajoling eyes wide.

  Amy realised what was going on and jumped up to help Stella.

  Moira tutted again, sighing at their unsubtle tactics to leave her and Graham alone.

  Graham toyed with a beermat on the table. ‘So,’ he said.

  ‘So,’ Moira said.

  ‘I take it you’re going to marry him,’ Graham said. ‘This Mitch character.’

  ‘Oh, for pity’s sake.’ Moira sat back in her chair, arms crossed. ‘Is that really what’s bothering you? Graham, I’m sixty-five, of course I’m bloody not, I’m just going to live a little.’

  Graham pulled at the neck of his T-shirt, uncomfortable.

  Moira shook her head. ‘Graham, we had some lovely times but we don’t love each other any more. We’re one another’s comfort blanket. Gosh, when was the last time you and I did anything? When was the last time we had a holiday? Or even a chat for that matter?’

  ‘I can change,’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, leaning forward. ‘I should hope so.’ She studied his face, catching a glimpse of his handsome, charming former self but still with that familiar neediness in his eyes as he gazed back at her – a lazy helplessness that believed she might once again prop him up. But she wouldn’t. Looking at him sitting there, a little boy and an old man, she felt the freedom of it not being her responsibility to prop him up. Her fear that she would slip back into old routines silenced by her ever-growing inner strength, the strength that was making her stand up for what she believed and giving her the courage to defend not just what she wanted but what she knew was right. The strength that said – just because he is back, doesn’t mean you have to take him back. If she could save herself, then he was old enough to do the same.

  ‘What do you think I should do?’ Graham asked.

  Moira snorted a laugh. ‘Oh Graham, that’s not up to me.’ She took a sip of her drink then looked up to see him waiting for more of a response. ‘You just have to do a few more things outside your comfort zone,’ she said, taking the lime out of her glass and squeezing it then giving her drink a quick stir with a teaspoon from the flower pot of cutlery in the centre of the table. ‘Join some new things.’

  He made a face. ‘I don’t like joining new things.’

  Moira shrugged. ‘So stay lonely,’ she said, swigging a big gulp of her drink before standing up. ‘I really do have to go to yoga.’ She had another quick sip and was about to walk away when she paused. ‘It’s in your hands, Graham. Remember you got to Portugal easily enough. You’ve taken the first step.’

  He looked a little forlorn.

  She pointed to Jack and Sonny on the skimboard. ‘There’s something new you could try,’ she said with a cheeky little grin, then she strolled off out of the bar, high on her own bravery and courage.

  CHAPTER 42

  As the sun began to dip on the horizon the others strolled up to the beach shack with its strings of white lights glowing against the pink-tinted sky and the sardines sizzling on the grill. Everyone except Amy, and even Graham, had had a go on the skimboard in the shallows. Everyone falling over. Rosie the closest to mastering it. People had started gathering on the beach now, building a bonfire for the full-moon party. Music drifted up from the sand backed by the melodic crash of the waves. The evening yoga practise was coming to an end up on the hill, all of them standing tall like silhouettes of trees reaching for the dusky sky.

  Gus and Amy were at the bar. Sonny was playing pinball. Jack, Stella, and Graham were talking.

  Graham was sitting back, relaxing into being with the family, ankle crossed over his knee, greying curls a bit wild from the sea salt. ‘You know the Pemberton farm is for sale,’ he said to Jack. ‘If you’re looking to change jobs for good.’

  Gus came over, plonking a tray of beer bottles down on the table. ‘Don’t do it. A farm is a nightmare.’

  ‘I reckon I could be a farmer,’ Jack said, rolling his shoulders, testing it out for size. ‘Get a dog. I like tractors.’

  Stella frowned but didn’t say anything, just listened.

  Rosie was hovering by Sonny at the pinball machine, hopping up and down for her turn.

  ‘You’re chained to a farm,’ Gus added, picking up his beer. ‘You have to be there all the time to make sure everything’s OK. And get up at four.’

  ‘Oh no, I wouldn’t like that,’ Jack backpedalled.

  Stella held in a smile. Amy appeared with her tomato juice and a small colourful bowl of olives.

  ‘Or what about a pub?’ Graham asked.

  At that point Moira arrived, trotting down the wooden steps, fresh from yoga and a little glammed up in white jeans and an off-the-shoulder striped top. ‘The Coach and Horses is for sale,’ she said, picking up the thread of the conversation as she came to the table.

  ‘You took the words out my mouth,’ said Graham, immediately standing up to get her a chair, clearly trying to be on his best behaviour.

  Moira settled herself down like a movie star, relishing the attention.

  ‘A pub!’ Jack sat up straight. ‘I like that.’

  ‘Stella’s not going to live in a pub!’ Amy laughed, popping an olive into her mouth.

  Stella shrugged, poker-faced, taking a sip of beer. ‘I’d think about it,’ she said, while inside itching to shout, ‘This is ludicrous!’ But she had sworn to herself she wouldn’t take control and bulldoze any of Jack’s ideas.

  ‘It’d be fun,’ said Jack. ‘We’d be near the sea, the kids could go to the village school, it’d be perfect.’

  Sonny swung round horrified from the pinball machine. ‘I don’t want to go to the village school. I like my school. Mum, tell him we’re not going to the village school!’

  They all looked at Stella, who was peeling the label off her beer. ‘I’m not telling him anything. He can do what he likes. Although’ —she paused, unable to stay out of it completely, however hard she was trying— ‘I’m not sure I want to move to the country. I like the city.’

  Jack looked at her, beer bottle paused at his lips, first with surprise that she was being so amenable, then with a smile. ‘Me too,’ he said.

  ‘Me too!’ said Sonny with relief.

  Jack sighed. ‘So, what am I going to do?’

  ‘Do you know, darling, you could start by ordering me a G&T,’ Moira chimed in, still perfectly poised on her chair. ‘If you wouldn’t mind.’

  Jack frowned as if that was not the answer he was looking for.

  Moira raised a brow. ‘Well, you’re the one who wanted to work in a pub.’

  Graham guffawed. Moira looked very pleased with herself.

  Jack hauled himself up, despondent, and went over to the bar with his beer.

  Stella slipped away after him, leaving Amy sharing cringing looks with Gus over
the table about her parents.

  The sun was setting now, the waves a strip of white against a vermilion horizon, the sky above still glowing blue. More people had gathered over by the water, building up the bonfire with armfuls of sun-dried wood.

  Stella sat on a bar stool next to Jack, their knees touching. She tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘Jack, a rebellion doesn’t mean you have to change completely. It’s just a pause to find out what you really love.’

  Jack looked at her. ‘But what do I really love?’ he said.

  ‘Well, that’s what you have to think about rather than clutching at bizarre ideas offered by my father. Have fun with it. Work out what you enjoy.’

  He nodded.

  Stella looked back towards the table where the waiter was setting out candles, everyone illuminated in the flickering dusk. Her mum and dad were laughing at something Gus was saying. Amy was gesticulating about something. Rosie was trying to beg a euro for the pinball off anyone who was willing to spare her some cash. Graham dug in his pocket and gave her a handful of change.

  Stella shook her head. ‘I don’t know about the Marriage MOT but it’s certainly been a Family MOT.’

  Jack glanced to where she was looking, then back at her. ‘What do you mean? I think we were pretty tremendous with our MOT. Look at us, all good as new. Discovered the brake pads were in order.’

  ‘Jack, please!’ Stella shook her head at the dreadful analogy.

  ‘What was next on the list?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m meant to pretend to be your mistress.’

  Jack almost choked. ‘Are you serious? How exciting.’

  ‘Don’t get your hopes up, it’s never going to happen,’ Stella said. ‘I’m just going to make the whole article up I think. It’s easier.’

  Jack frowned. ‘That’s a shame.’ The waiter brought over the G&T. Jack was about to stand up when he paused and said, ‘What would it take for you to pretend to be my mistress?’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Deadly.’

  Stella thought for a while. ‘You have sex with me in that field, I’ll pretend to be your mistress.’

  Jack winced.

  Stella grinned. ‘Well?’

  ‘What – you actually want to do it?’ he said, a touch taken aback.

  Stella rolled her eyes. ‘Jesus Christ, Jack.’

  ‘Oh right. Wow.’ Jack stared at the G&T on the bar a little petrified. Then he seemed to warm to the idea. ‘OK. Let’s do it. May as well go the whole hog with this rebellion.’

  It was Stella’s turn to look terrified. ‘Really?’

  Jack narrowed his eyes. ‘You don’t want to.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  He laughed. ‘No you don’t.’

  ‘OK, maybe I don’t actually want to have sex in a field. I suppose I just wanted you to want to have sex with me in a field.’

  Jack looked bemused. ‘Stella, if you want to have sex in a field, I’ll have sex in a field,’ he said. ‘Personally, I’d just prefer it in a fancy country hotel that we could book into instead.’

  ‘That’s not very rock and roll, though, is it.’

  ‘Stella,’ Jack reached forward and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Who are you trying to impress with this? We’ve never been rock and roll. Ten years of marriage hasn’t changed that,’ he laughed, shaking his head at her, then he picked up the G&T and stood. ‘Look, this MOT thing was good. It brought us back to us. But I’m sorry to say, I’m proud that I have never had sex in a field and never will be someone who has sex in a field.’

  Stella nodded, resigned to agreement.

  Jack walked away. Then almost immediately he came back. ‘But if you still want to, I will. If it would make you happy.’

  Stella shook her head. ‘No, it’s fine.’

  ‘Phew!’ Jack did a mock swipe of his brow and went to join the others, delivering Moira her G&T.

  Stella stayed at the bar a little longer. Sipping her beer, looking out at the last of the sun patterning the water and the waves as they crashed and frothed on the shore.

  Suddenly Jack was back. ‘Now I feel like a real fuddy-duddy,’ he said. ‘Come with me—’ Grabbing her hand he dragged her off past the bar, in the opposite direction to her family, and down onto the darkened beach.

  ‘What are we doing?’ Stella asked, a little breathless.

  ‘What do you think? We’re having sex on the beach.’

  ‘Oh God!’ Stella was laughing as he pulled them behind a huge rocky enclave. ‘Who are you trying to impress, Jack?’

  ‘You, Stella,’ he said. ‘Always you.’

  CHAPTER 43

  The evening wore on, the sky got darker and the stars brighter. The bar filled out. The barbecue smoked. Stella and Jack returned giggling and sand-swept. More drinks were bought. More pinball played. After dinner, Rosie was almost falling asleep on two chairs pushed together but then Vasco beckoned them all down on the beach. ‘We are going to light the bonfire.’

  Rosie’s eyes opened immediately and, yawning, she jumped down from her chair.

  The crowd gathered on the beach. Flame torches touched the dry branches and the wind did the rest: light and sparks shot up to the sky. Bursts of bright orange crackled and popped, shimmering like petrol on the water.

  They stood, mesmerised. Vasco got out his guitar, one of the yoga women sang. Drinks were carried down from the restaurant. There was dancing barefoot in the sand.

  The fire raged. The moon glowed. Stella asked Jack if he wanted to swim with her in the dark, black sea. He said yes.

  Rosie forced Sonny to dance, whirling around with the yoga lot. Amy tried but failed to get Gus to dance.

  Moira and Graham sat side by side at the table, half-drunk drinks in their glasses, looking out at the water and the fire reflected in the ripple of the tide.

  ‘So, what are you going to do?’ Moira asked.

  Graham sucked in his breath. ‘Not sure.’ He looked across at her. ‘You were right. I need to do more.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I thought I might stay away for a bit longer – carry on round into Spain. I’ve enjoyed this trip. But I’m not sure what I’ll do when I get back…’

  Moira took a sip of her drink. ‘There’s lots to look forward to, Graham,’ she said, pointing out towards the beach.

  They watched Jack splash Stella as they swam. And Sonny, Rosie, and Amy drag a very reluctant Gus to join them on the sandy dancefloor.

  The fire hissed as new branches were thrown on the dwindling flames.

  Graham took a quick, almost nervous, gulp of his beer before saying, ‘When I get back Moira, would you like to have dinner with me?’

  Moira’s hand stilled on her glass. She smoothed her hair. ‘Well, actually I won’t be back for a while either. I have another retreat in Lisbon then I’m off on a Tuscan painting holiday.’

  ‘Oh right,’ he said, looking dispiritedly at his beer bottle on the table. ‘Busy then.’

  ‘Very busy,’ she agreed.

  ‘I didn’t know you painted.’

  Moira laughed. ‘Don’t be daft, no one goes on these trips to actually paint.’

  Graham looked confused.

  ‘I’m sure I’ll paint the odd tree but really it’s for the wine and the chat,’ Moira said, feeling smugly seasoned in the art of joining new things. ‘What you’ll learn, Graham, is that half the point of going to these classes and things is the thrill of bunking off them.’

  ‘Right,’ Graham said, trepidation visible on his face at the possible activities to come.

  ‘You’ll be fine.’ She tapped his leg. ‘It’ll be good for you.’ Then after another sip of her drink added, ‘Dinner was it you said?’

  Graham nodded. The bonfire sizzled and cracked down on the beach.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Moira. ‘Maybe, when I get back.’

  CHAPTER 44

  It was midnight when they all lined up in the car park. Like the von Trapp children, waiting to say goodbye.


  The air was still warm. The wind had dropped. The sky a gauze of stars.

  Amy was the first to step forward and give her dad a hug. ‘You will come back, won’t you? You won’t disappear again?’

  Graham shook his head, almost embarrassed by the reminder that he had disappeared in the first place. ‘No.’

  Amy sniffed. ‘You’d better not, you’re going to have another grandchild to get to know!’

  Graham nodded, as if that were exactly why he would never disappear again.

  Then he moved on to Gus, his arm outstretched. ‘Don’t mess it up,’ he ordered as Gus stepped forward and Graham gave his hand a bone-crunching shake.

  Gus’s face blanched. Graham snorted a laugh. ‘I thought you were a military man.’

  ‘I’m not actually in the military—’ Gus started but Graham had already moved onto the next in line.

  Stella.

  They stood silently face to face. The wind rustling through the giant palm trees and clinking the wind-chimes.

  ‘That was good swimming,’ Graham said.

  ‘You too,’ Stella replied. ‘You should go back to coaching at the pool when you get back. Pete’s even more of a menace than he was.’

  Graham tipped his head. ‘I thought you thought I was the menace.’

  She shrugged. ‘You don’t have to be.’

  He cleared his throat. Ran his hand round the neck of his T-shirt. Then he nodded, seemingly considering whether that was their goodbye done.

  Stella rolled her lips together. Then she smiled.

  And Graham sort of smiled. Then he leant forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Surprised by the closeness, she put her hand on his arm. He smelt of her dad.

  ‘I acknowledge some responsibility,’ he mumbled in her ear, so quiet she almost asked him to repeat himself, it only dawning on her just before she did what he had actually said.

  She stood, stunned, as he moved along the line to Sonny.

  ‘Work hard and listen to your mother. Yes,’ Graham barked.

  Sonny gave a begrudging nod. Graham ruffled his hair. ‘And you’ll set up the blog?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Amy poked her head forward. ‘What blog?’