Allie stood and stared at the chaos around her. She couldn’t even see the carpet. It looked like she’d walked into the middle of a jumble sale. There was stuff everywhere, boxes upon boxes, clothes in piles and knick-knacks she’d never seen before.
‘And where do you suggest we eat?’ asked Allie, gazing at the table, which was piled high with files. She flipped the top one over and saw that it was Rory’s work from university. ‘You’ve still got loads to get through, Rory,’ she said flicking through the next one.
He poked his head around the door. ‘Actually that’s the throwaway pile. Drew is going to pop up with his trailer and burn it at the farm. It’s easier than getting a skip.’
‘This is all part of your life,’ she said, still perusing them.
‘It is, but it’s about time I let go of all that stuff. What’s it doing anyway, except gathering dust? It’s not as though I’m ever going to look at it again or use it.’
‘It’s still a shame. Look at all the work that’s gone into some of these diagrams.’
Rory scrambled across the room and looked over Allie’s shoulder.
‘I don’t need to keep these to remember the blood, sweat and tears that went into those studies; it’s etched on my brain. I’ve got my memories.’ He pushed the files to one side and cleared a spot on the table so they could eat.
‘A glass of wine?’ he asked, returning to the kitchen and reappearing with two plates of fish and chips.
‘Lovely, thanks.’ The smell of the food was making her stomach grumble.
Rory poured wine and, as usual, he soaked his chips in vinegar. Allie smiled to herself. If those chips were alive, they’d need a life jacket to stand any chance of survival swimming around his plate.
‘Would you like some chips with your vinegar?’ she joked, stabbing her fork into her own chips and shovelling them into her mouth. ‘Mmm, delicious but hot,’ she said, flapping her hand in front of her mouth.
***
Rory had managed to have a quick chat with Allie at lunchtime about his mum. They’d met up at the bench on the green and Allie had brought him a sandwich from the pub for his lunch. She was devastated to learn about Alana and she could see the distress in Rory’s eyes and hear it in his voice. He’d stared vacantly ahead into the distance.
‘How could I have been so blinkered?’ Rory had barely been able to take a bite of his sandwich as he turned towards Allie, recollecting the conversation he’d had with his father that morning. ‘What sort of son am I not to even mention it to Dad when I noticed missed appointments and deleted emails?’
‘Because people get forgetful if they are busy. We are only human, we make mistakes,’ Allie had said, trying to soothe his emotions.
‘I feel disappointed in myself, moaning about the equipment, the lack of space in the surgery, when all the time they had greater things to worry about. Their struggles are far worse than my future career, and the way I’ve treated Dad, I feel ashamed …’ Rory had sucked in a breath. ‘I’ve been short-tempered with him, frustrated, all I’ve done is make life more difficult for him.’
‘It’s not your fault. You can only react to what you know at the time. Now we both know we will be there for them, every step of the way.’
‘I’m really struggling with it all,’ Rory had admitted. It didn’t matter what Allie said, he was still cut up about the way he’d acted towards his dad and the way he’d judged him.
Allie had felt sorry for both men. Stuart had been struggling alone while being responsible for Rory as a father and as a partner in the business, and Rory hadn’t understood the bigger picture and was blaming himself for the extra pressure he’d put on his dad about the surgery’s working conditions.
‘So, where has all this stuff come from? I’ve never see half of it before.’ Allie gave another glance around the room.
‘The loft. It’s mad, isn’t it? All this stuff is from my old bedroom at home, all what I accumulated from living at university. You just pile everything into a box to tidy it away and don’t realise one day you have to go through it all. Most of it should have been thrown away at the time. I’ve even got a box of programmes from all the football matches my dad took me to as a kid. I mean, will I ever look at them again?’
‘Collectors’ items for some mad footie fan,’ said Allie.
‘My loft was a fireman’s worst nightmare with all that paper jammed up in the roof. There’s tickets from every gig I ever went to, and Mum has even kept pictures I drew at primary school. Why?’
‘Because that’s what parents do! They are proud of their children from the moment they arrive in this mad world of ours.’
For a second there was a lull in the conversation and Allie noticed that Rory had gone quiet. She saw tears in his eyes. Reaching towards him she squeezed his hand. ‘The good thing is Alana has us all. We will all look out and care for her.’
Rory couldn’t speak; he wiped his eyes on his sleeve and took a moment.
‘It’s okay to cry, Rory. It’s all come as a shock to you.’
Rory swallowed and put down his knife and fork. ‘I’m so sorry, Allie.’
‘What for?’
‘I was putting what I wanted first without giving a second thought to anyone else. You were right about your job offer. Maybe I was encouraging you to go for the interview to make it easier for me to travel for a year without giving your feelings a second thought.’
‘Ha, see, I’m always right.’ Allie gave a small smile to try and lighten the mood. ‘But it’s okay. Relationships are difficult at the best of times. When they are good, they are good, but when you disagree, that’s when you realise how strong you are. It’s all about compromise.’
‘It was unfair of me. Please forgive me.’
Allie bent across the table and pecked him on the cheek. ‘You’re forgiven. But—’
‘But what?’ Rory looked alarmed.
‘I’ve been thinking about it and even though I’m happy with my life, maybe there is more to Allie MacDonald than just being a barmaid. You’ve given me food for thought, Rory, and created a little bit of fire in my belly. I’m going to go for the interview because if nothing else it’s all experience and if I do happen to get the job I can make a decision then – keep my options open.’
‘Wow, I wasn’t expecting that,’ exclaimed Rory, taken by surprise. ‘Right decision! Go Allie! I’m so proud of you and we both know your interview will be successful and you’ll get the job.’
‘If that’s the case then I’ll be able to save some of my salary and visit you in Africa. Win–win.’
Allie watched as Rory took a piece of bread, loaded it with the last few chips and swirled it around his plate, soaking up the vinegar. She could tell he was deep in thought because his brow had furrowed. As soon as he finished eating, he leant back in the chair with his hands resting on his stomach. He looked troubled.
‘What are you thinking?’ she asked, placing the knife and fork back on her empty plate and holding Rory’s gaze. ‘You suddenly look glum again.’
He exhaled. ‘Just thinking about Mum and all our lives. It saddens me the most that when I have children they won’t know their grandmother like I did, like we did. You take them for granted, that they are always going to be around, and you never think about them getting old.’
Allie could see Rory was emotional. She moved her chair back and sat on his knee, hugging him tight. She didn’t like seeing him upset and only wished she could change the situation.
‘We just need to make sure that we are here for both of them.’
Rory nodded. ‘I know. It’s frustrating when you have no control and you wish with all your might that things were different.’ He rested his chin on Allie’s shoulder for a second. ‘Allie, I can’t go to Africa and leave Dad coping with everything. I just need to tell Zach and Emma. The sooner the better.’
Allie could see he was visibly upset, his eyes still teary.
‘Rory, don’t make any decisions tonight. Tal
k to your dad, tell him about the trip and see what he says.’
‘How can I, Allie? He needs the pressure taken off him at the surgery. I couldn’t place that extra burden on him. And I’ve been thinking: I’m going to stay at their cottage, in my old bedroom. I know they are going to drive me insane, but I just need to be close to them and to the surgery.’
Allie knew this decision must have been difficult for Rory. On one hand she was ecstatic at the thought of him staying in Heartcross, but on the other she was worried about how this might affect him later. His emotions were all over the place with working out what would be the right thing to do. She knew the decision had to be his, but she was also in two minds about what would be the best thing – should he follow his dreams or stay for his parents’ sake? Rory looked worn out, devastated by the whole situation. All she could do was be there for him.
‘You don’t need to do anything tonight. Let’s just carry on packing up your stuff and see how you feel in the morning.’
‘I’ve made up my mind, Allie.’
Kissing the top of his head, she stood up and cleared the table whilst Rory let out a huge sigh. ‘One day I’ll get to Africa.’
‘You will.’
For the next hour they studiously wrapped breakable items and placed them in boxes. Allie tried to keep the conversation light, chatting cheerfully to keep Rory’s spirits up, even though he was clearly trying to deal with the revelations of the last twenty-four hours.
‘Ha! Remember this?’ chuckled Allie, holding up a framed photo of the gang when they left school. ‘Look at Isla’s hair … and what is Fergus wearing? He’d be arrested by the fashion police if he wore that these days!’
She passed the photograph to Rory, who grinned. ‘Never mind Isla’s hair, look at mine! It’s way out of control!’
‘I remember we couldn’t wait to be rid of that uniform and when the school bus dropped us off this side of the bridge, we all ran up to the old boathouse.’
‘Poohsticks!’ exclaimed Rory. ‘We tied our school ties around the sticks and lobbed them from the rock outside the boathouse.’
‘To this day Fergus is adamant that his stick passed under Heartcross Bridge first, but Drew isn’t having any of it,’ said Allie, still chuckling at the memory.
‘All the sticks looked the same! The good old days. When we didn’t have a care in the world.’ Rory passed the photograph back to Allie. ‘Obviously that goes in the “keep me” pile – but look who isn’t in the picture.’ He cocked an eyebrow in Allie’s direction.
‘That’s because I took the picture. This was years before selfies were even heard of.’ She knew full well she’d always preferred to be behind the lens rather than in front of it.
She wrapped the photo frame in tissue paper and placed it carefully in a ‘keep me’ box. There were all sorts in these boxes, memories aplenty – everything from old football trophies Rory had won at primary school to plaster casts of dinosaurs he’d painted at school. There was even a collection of comics.
‘Keep or go?’ asked Allie, thinking the comics were definitely collectors’ items.
‘Keep the comics. I’ll take them to that quirky bookstore over in Glensheil, the one on the corner. I’ve often seen boxes of comics outside.’
‘Good idea,’ replied Allie, pulling a red cardboard box towards her and flipping open the lid. She stared at a pile of letters wrapped up in a red velvet ribbon. These were handwritten letters to Rory in the smallest, neatest handwriting Allie had ever seen. Immediately Rory noticed she’d gone quiet and looked over. ‘What’ve you got there?’
Allie looked down at the letters again and turned them over. ‘“Your forever love Clare,”’ Allie read out loud, her heart hammering against her chest. ‘Love letters … you’ve kept love letters from Clare?’ she said, putting them back into the box. In that little bundle tied with red velvet ribbon was an intimate exchange of words between Rory and his first love, and Allie felt a pang of jealousy. Of course, she knew Rory had had other relationships before her but this one in her eyes was a little different. He’d asked Clare to marry him, He’d never asked Allie.
Rory stopped talking and stared. ‘You’ve got that look about you.’
‘What look?’
‘That look.’
‘No, I haven’t,’ she said sulkily.
‘Yes, you have,’ he challenged.
‘I just don’t get it – why would you keep this stuff?’
‘It’s just part of my past, Allie. It’s moulded me into who I am today, steered me towards this path with you.’
Allie looked up. The intensity of his gaze made her shiver in anticipation.
‘I wouldn’t change this path for the world so put those in the “must go” pile.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely sure. I don’t need to think about that twice,’ he said forcefully, leaning over and planting a huge kiss on her lips. ‘And I hope you weren’t about to get jealous on me, were you?’
Allie began to object, but Rory silenced her with another kiss, sending a thousand fireflies fluttering around her stomach.
‘You are amazing, gorgeous and funny, and my life would not be the same without you in it,’ he murmured as he pulled away gently. ‘In fact, it would definitely not be the same without you in it … more peaceful and calm, I’d say.’ He gave her a sheepish grin and Allie swiped his arm playfully.
‘I do love you,’ he said, lowering his lips to hers. She grasped his hair and pulled him towards her, kissing him harder. Rory rolled on top of her and Allie screamed, ‘Ouch! What’s that? There’s something sharp digging in my back.’
Rory pulled her up and opened the bag she’d fallen on. ‘Ha! It’s my rosette for winning the best Easter bonnet competition at school,’ he said with a grin. ‘It all kicked off when I won because Jarrod Braithwaite’s mum had spent what looked like the whole weekend conjuring up a bonnet that no way on this earth any child our age could have made, and mine was stuck together with animal hair, feathers and anything I could put my hands on from the surgery.’
Rory secured the pin at the back of the rosette and placed it on the arm of the settee while Allie took a closer look inside the bag. ‘What are all these?’ she asked, intrigued. There were ten jam jars with dated labels. She pulled one out of the bag and saw it was packed full of strips of paper.
‘Ha! Those are my memory jars. Those five are from primary school and those five are from my time at high school.’
‘And these?’ she asked, pulling out numerous photographs in clear plastic wallets.
‘Those are the photographs from my childhood. Look, there’s one here from the day I was born. Mum and Dad standing on the hospital steps with me in their arms. They must have thought they were royalty, the way they are posing.’
Allie turned the first one over and howled with laughter. ‘Oh my God, Rory, look at those trousers and that jumper! And your hair swept to one side like a combover.’
Rory cringed. ‘Apparently that was called being on trend, and my mother used to lick her hand and try to straighten down the sticky-up bits. It was so embarrassing.’ He shook his head. ‘I would never dress our children that way or ever comb their hair that way. Please tell me you won’t either.’
‘So, we are going to have children?’ Allie couldn’t help but smile.
‘One day a whole football team,’ he said, grinning. ‘Family is important.’
‘A whole football team? We need serious words … Maybe two,’ she argued playfully, unscrewing the lid of one of the memory jars and pulling out a slip of paper. ‘“I was allowed to stay up past 8pm on a school night,”’ she read out loud, turning the paper over and looking at the date on the front of the jar.
Rory grinned and poured them both a glass of wine. ‘For ten years of my life this was part of my bedtime routine. Mum would cut the little strips of paper and each night after she’d read me a story she’d encourage me to write a good memory about my day. Then we would p
lace it in the jar and by the end of the year I would have three hundred and sixty-five memories.’
‘This is so cute. What a brilliant idea.’ Allie kept reading the little slips of paper. ‘“Today was a good day, I beat Drew Allaway in the 100m sprint at sports day.”’
Rory laughed. ‘That was a good day! We all know how competitive Drew was and still is!’
‘“I helped Dad to bake my mum a birthday cake. Happy birthday, Mum!”’ Allie read out before taking a sip of her wine. ‘These shouldn’t be stored away in an attic. These should be out on a shelf and every time you are having a bad day you can read one of them.’
‘It’s probably best not to read the jar from my last year of high school. That will make for interesting reading. It all went on then!’
Allie noticed the mischievous glint in his eye and dived towards the jar. Rory did the same and they play-wrestled on the floor until they were doubled over laughing. The jar safely in Rory’s hands, he held it high. ‘It’s just like you girls writing diaries, we wouldn’t dream of reading what’s inside.’
‘Who’re you trying to kid? There is no way on this earth if you came across a diary you wouldn’t read what’s written inside. Curiosity would always get the better of you.’
‘I can neither confirm nor deny,’ he said, chuckling, while unscrewing the lid of the jam jar and spreading the memories out on the floor. ‘This was my life as a sixteen-year-old boy.’ Allie began to pick up the random pieces of paper and read them out loud. They spent the next hour laughing heartily at Rory’s memories as a sixteen-year-old. Most of the time Rory was suitably embarrassed but he took it all in good humour.
Even though the evening had begun on a sad note, Allie felt like her relationship with Rory was back on track. This was how it had always been, full of laugher.
‘Look at the time, doesn’t it fly when—’
‘When you’re making fun of me,’ interrupted Rory.
‘But you know it’s not done with any malice. I think these jars are brilliant and it would be something I would encourage our children to do.’ Allie emphasized the ‘our’. ‘I wish I’d done something similar. Fabulous keepsake.’
Clover Cottage: A feel good cosy read perfect for your summer holiday reading (Love Heart Lane Series, Book 3) Page 18
