A Season for Second Chances(18)

“Alex still does,” said Peter.

“At least I wear underwear,” said Alex.

“Okay,” said Annie. “Let’s get this stuff up to the flat, and I’ll make you both some coffee. I haven’t been to the shops yet, so I’ve got no food to offer you, I’m afraid.”

“We bought almond croissants,” said Peter.

“Perfect,” said Annie.





Chapter 14



Woah!” Peter exclaimed as one by one they huffed and puffed into the flat, laden with boxes and bags. The sitting room seemed even smaller with the twins in it. “That view is awesome,” Peter continued.

“Oh my God, Mum,” Alex called from the kitchen. “This kitchen is seriously retro-chic.”

Peter joined him, setting down the coffee machine and plugging it in, while Annie checked the cupboards for mugs.

“Or is it that it hasn’t been decorated since the seventies?” asked Peter.

“You have very little appreciation of style,” said Alex.

“I disagree,” said Peter. “My style is just different to yours.”

“Hobo-chic?” said Alex.

“Unpretentious,” said Peter. “Just because my flat isn’t a carbon copy of House Beautiful magazine . . .”

“I’m surprised you’ve even heard of House Beautiful,” said Alex.

“I’ve seen it on your poncy velvet coffee table,” said Peter.

“That’s a footstool, you Neanderthal,” said Alex.

“You both have lovely taste,” said Annie, handing each of them a mug of coffee. “Life would be very dull if we were all the same.”

“That’s been your stock response to every argument since we were born,” said Peter, smiling. Alex grinned and took a swig of his coffee.

“And there is still barely a situation it doesn’t apply to,” said Annie. “Now, drink up and help Mummy move into her new bachelorette pad.”

Alex and Peter grimaced, and Annie laughed. Her heart felt so much lighter just from seeing them. In the spring, they would turn twenty-seven, and Annie found it hard to comprehend that she had children who were close to thirty years old, when in her head she was still twenty-four. Alex was a graphic designer and serial monogamist, living in a minuscule but trendy flat in Soho with Greg, the latest love of his life. Peter worked as a gardener at Eltham Palace and lived in a shared house in Greenwich. His girlfriends were so frequent and fleeting that Annie had stopped bothering to learn their names. Her sons were intelligent, successful men in their own right. But when they were together, particularly when they were with Annie, they seemed to revert back to their childhood selves, squabbling and sparring for her attention.

Although it didn’t take long to move in, lugging the boxes up the stairs to the flat several times over was a killer. Alex bitched and whined so much on his third ascent that Annie had considered gagging him with his linen scarf. Peter jogged up and down with apparent ease, which did nothing to promote good humor in his brother. At eleven o’clock, they stopped for a break, and Annie was grateful for the almond croissants. As it turned out, though, Mari had very kindly stocked the fridge with milk, cheese, bacon, ham, hummus, and tofu. The two drawers at the bottom of the fridge brimmed with vegetables and salad. A yellow Post-it note stuck to the top shelf read:


To get you started. Wasn’t sure if you were a normal person or one of those vegans, a lot of young people are these days, so I thought I’d hedge my bets!



By midafternoon, her clothes were hanging in the single wardrobe and the quilt—sewn by her mother—was draped over the small double bed. With her makeup and toiletries hidden away in the bathroom cabinet and a few framed photographs of the boys strategically placed, Annie put the kettle on the stove and surveyed her new home.

“Not bad, eh, boys,” she said.

“It’s perfect, Mum,” said Peter.

“Just the place to recoup and regroup,” said Alex.

“So, who’s for tea and bacon sarnies?” Annie asked.

“Sorry, Mum,” said Peter. “We’ve really got to get going.”

“I promised Greg a roast dinner after his rugby tournament,” said Alex. “And Peter’s got a date.”

“The ballerina didn’t make the cut, then?” said Annie.

Peter grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

“You know me, Mum,” he said.

Annie rolled her eyes.



* * *



—

Annie was always sad to see her boys leave, but today had been an unexpected bonus and so she couldn’t complain. Still, the flat felt empty now they weren’t filling the space with their long limbs and witty commentary.

Annie breathed in her new surroundings. The little flat was homey and welcoming, inviting her to rest her careworn bones within its cozy walls. Despite being alone in a new place, Annie felt safe in this little haven by the sea. It exuded a feeling of having been lived in and loved, and Annie had the notion that if she let it, this building would love her right back.

“Hello, Saltwater Nook,” she said, running her hand lightly over the bumpy walls. “I’m your new guardian.”





Chapter 15