‘He looks like Thor. Or a Viking.’
‘Thor? You mean the actor who plays Thor?’
‘Yes. I guess so.’
‘Or a Viking?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you have a photo?’
Frankie pulled her mobile from her pocket and scrolled through the photographs. She’d taken some in Norway and some while Jonas had been in London, and she looked for the best one of his face. Gazing at him made her heart ache and she hoped it wouldn’t show in her expression, so she forced her lips into a smile.
‘Here you go. This was when we went to see the northern lights and met some of the huskies.’
Jen took her phone and looked at the screen then enlarged the photo with her thumb and forefinger. She raised her eyes slowly and smiled.
‘He’s gorgeous. Did you…?’
‘Oh no. Nothing like that.’
‘Why not? I would.’
‘No, you wouldn’t. You’re married.’
‘If I were single.’
‘But you’re not and I’m only just single.’
‘You’ve always been single in your heart.’
Frankie met her friend’s gaze and swallowed hard. Jen had hit the nail on the head; she hadn’t really ever fully committed to Rolo and that had been part of the problem. But neither had he fully committed to her.
‘Yes, but I have just come out of a relationship where I was engaged. I ran away from my own wedding.’ She shook her head, still stunned that she’d done it.
‘You did but you did it for the right reasons.’ Jen sipped her coffee. ‘Have you looked on Facebook recently?’
‘Not for a few weeks.’ She hadn’t wanted to see what people were up to, to read about their joys and to see their edited photographs of perfect lives and families. Usually, she could cope with it but at the moment, she didn’t feel she had the strength. Her heart had been too full of her own family and of her uncertainty about Jonas and what she wanted from him.
‘Oh… uh…’
‘What is it?’
‘Rolo’s moved on.’
‘Yes, I know that. With Lorna.’
Jen shook her head. ‘No, he’s with someone else now.’
‘Bloody hell! Who?’
‘Some actress who was staying in the villa adjacent to his and Lorna’s.’
‘Is Lorna OK?’
‘Yeah…’ Jen waved a hand. ‘You know her, it’s probably all a PR stunt anyway. She adores some media exposure, that one.’
‘So Rolo’s dating an actress and Lorna’s newly single?’
‘For five minutes. She’ll bounce back and be jolly good in no time at all.’
Frankie nodded, knowing Jen was right. Lorna had hopped from bed to bed for as long as Frankie had known her. Men, women, older, younger; it was all the same for Lorna. But Rolo’s behaviour had surprised her. Had their relationship stopped him from being the lothario he’d always wanted to be, or had he merely hidden it from her?
‘Do you think that Rolo was… seeing other women when we were together?’
Jen’s eyes darted right then left and colour rose in her cheeks.
‘Jen?’
‘I’m so sorry, Frankie. I didn’t know for sure and I didn’t want to ruin it all for you. I hoped he’d settle down once you were married, that once he put a ring on your finger, he’d be faithful.’
Frankie frowned. ‘I wish you’d told me. I could have married him and he’d have been carrying on behind my back. Bloody hell, Jen, I must’ve been a laughing stock.’
‘I don’t think many people knew; he was, at least, discreet. But I only found out recently and only knew about one… OK, two… women it was rumoured he’d been seeing. I should have told you and I’m so sorry.’
Frankie shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter now though, does it? However, knowing he was a love rat does make me feel a bit better about calling off the wedding.’
‘Of course it does. It should.’
But where did it leave her and Jonas? Nowhere was where. She’d still just emerged from an engagement and even if her fiancé had been cheating, it didn’t change the decision she’d made to take some time for her, to find herself. Jonas was a decent man and he could be a good friend but that was all that lay ahead for them. He’d made that clear at the airport. Frankie needed to take some time to enjoy being with her parents, to get to know them properly and to decide what to do about her life. She had big decisions to make and getting her new career sorted was a good place to start.
‘So, what will you do now?’ Jen handed her mobile back. ‘I do think you’d make a great couple. You with your pretty eyes and brown hair and him with his blond hair and… ooh, that big muscular frame.’
‘Jonas is just a friend and it’ll never be more than that, Jen. But I do need to make some big decisions about my life and what I want to do from here on in. In fact, remember I told you I’d like to design clothes…’
As the Christmas songs played, the waitress set spiced mince pies and fresh frothy lattes in front of them and Frankie told Jen about her fashion design dreams and how Jonas was going to show the photographs of the range to an acquaintance. And she started to believe that this could be a Christmas wish that might actually come true.
*
Outside the cafe, Jen had hugged Frankie then hurried away to meet another friend for afternoon drinks. Frankie could have gone too, but she didn’t fancy drinking and sitting around in a club. She needed some time to collect her thoughts about everything. She also didn’t want to go straight home, so decided to have a wander around the shops instead.
Regent Street was packed and she had to weave her way through the crowds of shoppers keen to grab last minute gifts on the final Saturday before Christmas. She made her way to the cream front and red awnings of Hamleys and gazed into the first window that she came to. A snow-covered scene greeted her, where fat fluffy penguins wearing hats and scarves frolicked beneath a large Christmas tree. The lights on the tree twinkled and made the glitter in the snow sparkle. It was beautiful.
The next window showed the inside of a drawing room where Santa Claus sat in front of a roaring fire. The room was decked with gold and red tinsel and a large Christmas tree stood in the corner. Gifts were piled around the tree, wrapped in a rainbow of foil paper and decorated with large golden bows. The window in the room was flung open and outside was the perfect festive scene that spanned London rooftops covered in snow. The full moon glowed in the background and in front of it the silhouette of a sleigh pulled by reindeer could be seen. Goose pimples rose on Frankie’s arms as she took in all the details of the scene. It evoked a combination of memories and she remembered how wonderful it had been to snuggle next to Jonas in the sleigh as it had whisked them through the Norwegian snow. She could also recall the excitement of childhood Christmases when she’d wonder if Santa would visit their home and what he would bring. Of course, every year she had wished that he’d bring her mother home, and she could remember promising him – as she sat in front of the fireplace in the drawing room and placed her letter to Santa in front of the grate – that if he brought Freya home, she would wish for nothing else.
She shook her head, sad for the child she had once been. She moved on from Hamleys and breathed in the smells of December, the cold air, the aromas of food cooking in the streets – from hot dogs to crêpes to the rich spices of mulled wine – and watched the people who hurried on by. They were so busy, so focused on their task, that they didn’t notice her watching and she felt anonymous, something that she didn’t mind at all. She’d spent so much of her life under a spotlight because of her grandmother, always watching her behaviour and thinking of the family reputation, when inside she’d ached for what she didn’t have. But now, she had that, she had been reunited with her mother and it was as if all her Christmas wishes had finally come true.
She paused in front of a perfume shop to admire the Christmas lights that adorned the buildings and street lamps, all of them twinkling
in the now dark afternoon, then she spotted a Salvation Army band about to start up. In their dark coats and hats with red scarves, they looked smart and it made Frankie smile. All the wonderful traditions and familiar sights of London in December seemed better than ever before, brighter even, as if being reunited with her mother had removed the filters that she’d viewed the world through. As the opening notes of ‘In the Bleak Midwinter’ rang out, Frankie smiled, her heart gladdened by the music and by life. She fished around in her bag for some change which she dropped into the collection bucket then she stood there and watched them for the next half an hour, swaying along to their musical set and soaking up the atmosphere of Regent Street at Christmas.
And as snowflakes began to drift down from the sky, Frankie appreciated exactly what it was to live entirely in the moment.
Chapter 30
‘Can I come out now?’ Grandma’s voice was muffled behind the bathroom door.
‘Ready?’ Hugo asked Frankie.
‘Ready!’
As her father helped Grandma back to her bed, Frankie turned on the fairy lights that she’d draped around the small Christmas tree in the corner.
‘A tree!’ Grandma exclaimed, clapping her hands together. Then she frowned. ‘The nurse won’t like it, mind. They’re even funny about flowers.’
‘We had a word earlier and got the OK to do it.’ Hugo took his mother’s hand as Frankie wondered at her grandmother’s concerns over what the nurses might disapprove of. Had she turned over a new leaf?
‘It’s very pretty, thank you.’
‘A bit smaller than you’re used to.’ Frankie thought of the enormous pine trees that were a tradition at the house every December. Grandma would get Hugo to fetch the large boxes of decorations down from the attic and she’d instruct the housekeeper of the time how to decorate the tree. Afterwards, she’d always go back round the tree herself, rearranging until she felt it was just right. Frankie could see now that this was one of the ways she needed to have control; everything had to be just right. Had losing Pip Bellamy when she was so young meant that she needed to have that same control over so many other things? It was very sad that she’d been hurt and forced to surrender the man she loved, and all because of class and wealth. Grandma had suffered, it was true, but Frankie still wished she hadn’t felt the need to impress the same regulations upon her own son and the woman he loved.
‘But it’s beautiful, Frankie, and I’m really grateful.’
‘Happy Christmas, Mother!’ Hugo kissed her hand.
‘Happy Christmas, both. I’m so grateful to you for coming here today. I didn’t expect you to.’
‘Why wouldn’t we?’ Frankie asked.
‘After everything, you’d be entitled to stay away from me for the rest of my days. I don’t deserve your compassion.’
‘Now, now, Mother.’ Hugo shook his head. ‘We wouldn’t leave you alone on Christmas Day, would we?’
Helen smiled but her eyes were watery as she looked at her son and granddaughter.
‘We also brought your gifts.’
Frankie held up the two glitter-encrusted bags they’d brought with them.
‘You shouldn’t have. I don’t have a thing for you because I’ve been stuck in here.’
‘Not to worry, Grandma. Our gift is seeing you get better.’
At that, Helen buried her face in her hands. Frankie and her father stared at each other in shock. She had never seen her grandmother lose her composure like this and didn’t know what to do. Neither, it seemed, did her dad. The medical staff had managed to get Grandma’s condition under control with medication and the spells where her heart raced, making her faint, dizzy and sometimes nauseous, had reduced significantly. She still wasn’t out of the woods, and because of her age and the abuse she’d given her body through smoking and drinking, they had advised that she stay in hospital over the holidays and into the new year.
‘Uh… Mother?’ He patted her hand. ‘There, there. It’s all right. Everything is jolly good.’
Helen sniffled then removed one hand. ‘A tissue, please.’
Frankie got the box from the nightstand and handed it to her grandmother.
After she’d wiped her eyes and blown her nose, Helen looked at them both.
‘I’m terribly sorry about that. Nothing like a near-death experience to make a woman re-evaluate her life. Gosh, I’ve made so many mistakes.’
‘Grandma, you have to let it go now. We can’t change the past; we can only look to the future.’ Frankie took her grandmother’s hand and gently squeezed it. She thought of what Freya had said about moving on and it hit her how important that was, especially when you reached the age her grandmother had. Every day was precious.
‘As long as you know I’m sorry for everything and that I’ll do my best to be a better mother and grandmother from now on.’
‘Just get well, Mother. That’s all we want. The rest can wait.’ Hugo nodded.
Frankie handed her grandmother the smaller of the gift bags.
‘What is it?’ Helen asked.
‘Open it and see.’
Inside were three mindfulness colouring books, a large pencil sharpener and a pack of coloured pencils.
‘Colouring?’ Helen’s brow furrowed.
‘Yes. It’s good for relaxing, apparently.’ Frankie smiled. ‘And according to the doctor, you need to learn to switch off and relax more.’
‘Thank you.’ Helen ran her hands over the books then turned and placed them on the bedside table. ‘I shall try them later, although I haven’t coloured in years.’
‘I think it’s time for Carols from King’s,’ Frankie said as she pulled a gift from the second bag and handed it to her grandmother.
Helen opened it to find a digital radio inside.
‘The batteries are already inside and it’s tuned to the correct station.’ Frankie smiled.
‘Oh, how wonderful,’ Helen said as she switched it on.
The hospital room was instantly transformed from clinical to festive as it was filled with the hauntingly beautiful sound of carols from King’s College Cambridge.
The three of them sat together, a small family unit, and listened to the service, holding hands and rebuilding bonds. Frankie knew that the past would never be forgotten and the hurts would never completely fade, but lessons had been learnt and because of it, their future as a family looked far brighter than ever before.
*
‘It looks beautiful, Dad,’ Frankie said as she sat at the dining room table. Her father had taken the seat at the end and she was sitting to his left. Outside, the afternoon was dark but they’d left the curtains of the French doors open, not wanting to shut the remains of the day out. Snowflakes swirled in all directions and occasionally landed on the glass while some fell to the ground where a soft white blanket had begun to form.
Hugo had set the table with gold-rimmed glasses and their best cutlery and cooked them a dinner of turkey crown, vegetables, gravy and stuffing. It wasn’t the usual grand spread that Grandma would have organized – paying a catering company to come in and do it – but Frankie was glad. It was a quiet, intimate festive meal that she would share with her father. He’d put the turkey in the oven on a very low heat before they’d left for the hospital and it had been ready for their return. They’d stayed at the hospital longer than they’d anticipated, because it had been so pleasant sitting with Grandma and listening to the radio, and because they hadn’t wanted to leave her alone. But when she’d clearly become tired, they knew it was time to let her rest.
‘Shall we exchange gifts now?’ Hugo asked.
They’d been so busy that they hadn’t had a chance to consider gifts all day.
‘Good idea.’
Frankie got up and went to the sideboard where she’d placed her father’s present. It had arrived a few days before and been so well wrapped that she hadn’t taken it out of the packaging but had tied a big red bow around it.
She carried it over to her fath
er and set it down next to him.
‘Goodness, Frankie, what is that?’
‘Open it and see.’
‘Here’s yours.’ He handed her a small square parcel wrapped in silver paper.
‘Shall we go together?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ Her father smiled.
They tore at wrapping paper that they dropped to the floor between them, something that Grandma never would have allowed, and Frankie sighed as she opened the black box to reveal a pretty silver bangle.
‘Thank you, Dad. It’s beautiful.’
‘Like the ones your mother wears. It was her suggestion, actually.’
‘I love it.’ Frankie slid the bangle over her hand and admired it.
‘And this…’ Hugo stood up and lifted the photograph, setting it onto one of the chairs. ‘This is incredible.’
‘It’s the one I bought at Freya’s gallery. Jonas took it.’
Her father nodded as they gazed at the photo. Seeing it again made emotion surge through her. So much had happened since she’d first seen it but it was just as beautiful, if not more so. The contrast of the darkness and the northern lights, of the snow and the dark shapes of the trees was so intense that she felt as though she was there. She knew that when she exhaled, her breath would form a cloud in front of her and that her nose would tingle. A longing to see Norway again, along with her mother and Jonas, pierced her chest and she wondered when she’d have the chance.
‘Thank you, darling, this is a wonderful gift and we’ll hang it just there, shall we?’ He pointed at the wall above the dining room fireplace where a watercolour of an English landscape had sat for as long as Frankie had lived.
‘But what will Grandma say? She won’t be happy about that.’ Frankie bit her bottom lip, imagining the ruckus it could cause.
‘I’ll deal with Grandma. Besides, it’s about time we made some changes around here.’
She helped her father to move the old painting then together they hung Jonas’s photograph. On the dark papered wall, it looked right, as if it belonged there.
‘I think this calls for a celebration, don’t you?’
Hugo popped the cork on a bottle of champagne then poured it into the crystal flutes.
Love at the Northern Lights Page 22
