Page 5 of My Lemon Grove Summer
My phone buzzes again.
Fancy meeting up later?
My thumb hovers over the keypad, waiting to be told which way to go.
I look down at the screen. Could he be the one?
And then another message pops up.
No reason for us to get serious or anything. We can just hook up as and when, what do you say?
I mouth the words silently, and realisation washes over me like a freezing wave. I’m clearly not qualified to choose my own Mr Right. I ram the phone into my bag and take the bottle from Lennie.
‘You’re right. Why are we wasting time on losers? We’re lovely people, right? We deserve a bit of happiness. As you say, we’ve been planning this practically our whole lives.’
‘Exactly!’ he beams back.
I think of all the time-wasters and ghosters I’ve met on that damn app. The mistakes I’ve made waiting for my perfect partner to appear, when all the time Lennie’s been right here. Lovely, loyal Lennie. My friend, my best friend. Of course this is who I should be sharing my life with.
I take a deep breath. ‘Let’s do it!’ I say, and I feel the familiar rush that making impetuous decisions gives me, the buzz, the excitement of not knowing what the consequences will be. I raise the bottle in a toast – ‘To the pact!’ – and swig the cheap fizz, because this time, I’m in it with Lennie. We’re doing this together, just like we planned all those years ago.
‘To the pact!’ Lennie replies. ‘And decent bloody wine!’ and we both let out heads loll back and laugh, enjoying the relief and excitement our decision brings. No more chasing rainbows. It’s time to settle for what’s here and now, what’s been right under our noses all along. Our life together is about to start, and I get a little thrill of excitement in my tummy. I look at Lennie and hope it’s the start of the fireworks that will come in time.
I know that I’ve made the right decision. I had a dream and the dream passed me by. I need to go for this. Get out of the rut I’m in. For all the greedy councillors who put up the rates on the high street and put me out of business; for all the ghosters; for the store managers who make me dress like everyone else – I’m doing this because of you!
I’m excited, terrified, but also feeling a strange sense of release. A huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I’ve found what I was looking for and it was right here all along. Not a spur-of-the-moment thing; like Lennie says, we’ve really been planning it all our lives. Like the slow-cooked meal, it’s going to be perfect!
Chapter Three
I take a last look around the bedroom that has been my home for the past two years, since I lost my lovely shop and the flat. It was Lennie who made my dream come true then, and now he’s about to do it all over again. I smile thinking about him. Always there for me. Giving me a leg up when I need it.
I look at the single bed with my case on it. Renting a room from a stranger was not how I expected to end up in my late thirties. But now, well, I might just be getting everything I dreamed about after all. My own home, my own front door, perhaps my own business again, not relying on anyone else, and buckets of sunshine into the bargain.
I double-check my passport and boarding pass in my hand luggage. Organisation is not one of my strong points, but I’m determined not to lose anything or be late. I have one huge case I bought from the discount shop. It doesn’t look very sturdy, but then it’s only going one way. All it has to do is last the journey.
I check the mirror and give myself a scare. I’ll put make-up on as soon as we arrive, but doing it in the middle of the night seems somehow wrong. I do, however, pull out my scarf and tie it up around my head. Then I wrap my waist-hugging cardigan around me and creep out of my room, swerving the cat sitting on the landing, staring at me as if judging me.
I try to bump my case down the stairs as quietly as possible, avoiding the creaking one ten steps from the bottom. The last thing I want is to wake Maureen and listen to her telling me what a stupid idea this is. It’s not! Well, maybe it is. But this is me taking a chance to make something of my life again. A second chance to get on life’s ladder. To have a home of my own. I don’t care if it’s the size of a shoebox. I just don’t want to have to share with anyone else again . . . apart from Lennie, of course. It’s going to be me and Lennie from now on, a couple.
That sense of relief washes over me again. I’m off the shelf. It’s going to take a little getting used to, but I smile none the less.
Despite it being the end of May, it’s cold and dark and damp outside.
What if he doesn’t show? What if he’s got cold feet? What if he has suddenly realised he doesn’t want to spend his life with me, that there might be someone better out there?
As I’m thinking it, panic starting to rise within me, the lights of a taxi turn into the road. I watch it come towards me and stop. A rear window winds down. Lennie is there, smiling at me. Always on time. Always there. I should never have doubted him.
‘Looks like you need a lift,’ he says, grinning.
‘As it happens, I do,’ I whisper, playing along.
‘Going anywhere nice?’
‘Sicily, as it happens. I’m moving to Sicily!’ As I say the words out loud, they suddenly make everything real, and a giggle bubbles up inside me.
I’m feeling light-headed with excitement and a good dollop of nerves too. But not enough to dampen my urge to get going and get there. Since our application as a couple was accepted, I’ve given my notice to Maureen and my job and spent the past couple of weeks trying to convince everyone that it’s a really good idea. Apart from Valerie, who was delighted that Lennie and I were finally getting together. She said she’d hoped all along that it would happen one day, though she thinks we should just have a grown-up gap year and then come home.
Lennie gets out of the cab and pops open the boot, putting my case in there next to his. He looks at me, and I wonder if I’m supposed to kiss him. He’s obviously thinking the same. We lean in, and at the last second I opt for my usual big hug while he goes for my cheek and ends up kissing the top of my head. I return the kiss into the breast pocket of his jacket, then clumsily we pull apart. We’ll work on the finer details later. I’ve always been a klutz, so Lennie tells me, but if we’re going to have a family, we need to start with the basics and get the kissing right. But we’ll get there, I tell myself.
