Day Twelve (Friday)
‘In case it is my last visit, I wanted to thank you personally for all your delicious coffees and cakes, for welcoming me so warmly and for your unfailing courtesy and good humour,’ Edward told Meredith, when he visited the coffee shop that morning.
He wasn’t certain it would be his last visit, but it was a distinct possibility. He wanted to say his goodbyes, just in case. Anything less would have been unforgivably rude in Edward’s eyes. He was a man of good manners if nothing else. He was always unfailingly polite in his dealings with people, even when he didn’t particularly want to be. He expected politeness back in return. In the twelve days he’d known her, Meredith had never been anything but courteous to him. She was a warm-hearted and good-natured woman. She was another person Edward would miss tremendously.
He’d got up early that day, showered and had his usual cooked breakfast, before taking the coastal road into the city centre. Even though he was eventually planning to head in the other direction, to the picturesque Clyne Gardens, he couldn’t possibly do so without seeing Meredith first, just in case it proved to be his last visit to the coffee shop, at least during his current stay in Swansea. He was sure he’d be back soon enough, at least if he had any say in it. He’d left it too long before returning. Work and other things had got in the way. He’d never leave it as long again. It would become a regular holiday destination for him.
‘I’ve actually made two special cakes, just in case it is your last day, so you have a choice,’ Meredith said, her eyes lighting up, eager to see Edward’s reaction to her baking.
His eyes started to light up too, even though all these cakes weren’t good for his waistline. Luckily, all the walking he was doing was helping to counterbalance any extra calories he was consuming. Judging by the mirror alone, he’d neither lost nor gained weight. Of course, he didn’t have any scales in his room. He was judging by visual impression alone. He was sure Alan and Gwen would oblige him and lend him some if he asked them. So far, it hadn’t been necessary.
‘You do spoil me,’ Edward replied.
‘Well, you can either have an indulgent chocolate cake or a pineapple upside-down cake I’ve baked,’ Meredith explained. ‘Which do you fancy?’
‘It’s just too hard to decide,’ Edward said, weighing up his options. ‘You know what, I think I’ll have a slice of both. Why not, eh? You only live once. Just in case I don’t get a chance to sample your delicious cake making again for a while. I’ll have a light lunch to compensate.’
Meredith laughed.
‘It’s up to you,’ she said.
‘Yes, cut a slice of both, before I change my mind,’ Edward said. ‘And a latte to go with them.’
‘Of course,’ Meredith confirmed, taking Edward’s payment.
Edward found himself a seat and got out his book. He’d nearly finished The Country of the Blind. In this version, eyesight proved a hindrance and a source of suspicion rather than a blessing. The story’s protagonist, the lost mountaineer Nunez, was soon to discover it was better to be blind than have sight in his new surroundings, not the outcome he was confidently anticipating. Edward wondered if he’d been bling all along to Alice’s faults. Had she been nothing more than a gold-digger all along? Had she ever really loved him? He was beginning to suspect she hadn’t.
Edward was almost ready to move on to the other short stories in the collection, by the writer affectionately known as the father of science fiction. Edward enjoyed the works of HG Wells, at least the ones he was familiar with. He found them well-written, entertaining, and thought-provoking. That was all he could hope for in any book. Wells had also written on history, politics, science, social commentary, and biography, but Edward knew nothing of that output. He only knew the fiction of Wells. It was fiction Edward was mainly drawn to. Perhaps he could write a novel himself. He could set it in London’s financial world. He’d seen enough in his working days to fill a number of books. Perhaps it was another thing to add to his to-do list when he got back to Oxford.
‘Thank you again,’ Edward said to Meredith, as he got up to leave. ‘I hope to see you again before too long.’
‘I hope so too, and I’m sure I shall,’ Meredith said.
She came round from her counter to embrace him briefly, before allowing him to go. Edward returned her hug. It was a sign of mutual affection and appreciation. There was nothing wrong with embracing warmly, Edward reflected. Too many people were afraid to express their emotions and grasp those they loved. Edward had been like that in the past, a bit too aloof for his own good. He wouldn’t be anymore. He would show his true feelings. The only thing about saying such a public goodbye to Meredith was that it would make it difficult to go back if he decided not to return to Oxford at the weekend and to stay another week in Swansea. He’d just have to find another temporary coffee shop, he decided. That would be the prudent thing to do in the circumstances. There was no doubt he would go back to see her the next time he was in the city. He’d make a point of doing so.
Edward made his way out of the central shopping area and down Oxford Street. Overhead, the skies were grey. It was meant to brighten up later, hopefully by the time he got to Clyne Gardens. Edward took a shortcut through Picton Arcade and onto the Kingsway. He noticed a couple more small, independent cafés he might try one day if time permitted. At the roundabout where the Kingsway ended, he crossed into St Helen’s Road and continued towards Jill’s bookshop. It was a bit out of town. It was hardly in a prime location. It was no wonder it attracted so few customers.
‘She’s all ready for you,’ Jill told him, when he walked in through the front door.
By she, Edward knew Jill meant her dog, Beti. As always, the shop was empty. It was just Jill and Beti. Who else would there ever be? It was a wonder Jill stayed open at all. She had mentioned she sold a bit online but didn’t have a proper website set up. That was another thing she needed to do. Her email address was just listed on a few book sites, where potential customers could get in touch. A few did, some from abroad. That was the beauty of the internet. It helped to keep her afloat, though there was no doubt she’d benefit greatly from a proper website, with all her books catalogued according to author and subject. That would never happen, whilst it remained Jill on her own.
‘I expect she’s got used to her daily walk,’ Edward commented.
‘She certainly has. She looks forward to them,’ Jill agreed. ‘Is it still Clyne Gardens today?’
‘That’s the plan, as long as we both have the energy to get there and back,’ Edward said.
‘You can always get the bus if you’re tired,’ Jill suggested.
‘We might do that if we’re flagging or if it starts to rain,’ Edward confirmed. ‘I think she’s helping me to get fit, although I’ve been eating too much cake, I’m ashamed to admit. I go to the same coffee house every morning, to read for a bit, before coming to get her. At least I go as often as I can. I’ll miss my coffee and cakes if I do go home.’
‘I stick to the vegan coffee houses,’ Jill said. ‘Surprisingly, there are a few of them about, more than you’d expect in a city the size of Swansea.’
‘I’ll have to try one out with you one day,’ Edward promised.
‘That would be nice,’ Jill said. ‘I normally have to go on my own.’
‘I’m trying to open myself to new things and new experiences, including trying veganism,’ Edward said. ‘More to the point, I’d be very happy to keep you company.’
‘We’ll definitely do that then. It will be my treat,’ Jill said.
‘I couldn’t hear of you paying,’ Edward said. ‘Let me treat you. I have very little to spend my money on.’
‘Only holidays with no apparent endings,’ Jill teased.
‘The guesthouse is very reasonable,’ Edward said. ‘I’d spend almost as much back home. Besides, my holiday may be about to end. I’ll have to decide very soon.’
‘Well, as long as you’ve had a pleasant time here,’ Jill said.
‘I certainly have. It’s been more than that. In fact, it’s been wonderful,’ Edward beamed.
‘I’ll have the kettle on and tea ready for when you get back,’ Jill assured him, as she followed Beti and her new, temporary, daytime master to the door.
‘See you in a bit,’ Edward said, as he stepped back into the fresh air.
He’d remained careful not to tell Jill about his true financial position. He didn’t want to use the term millionaire or multi-millionaire even. The house on its own must be worth more than a million at current market value, perhaps two. Then he had some millions tied up in investments and another couple in the bank in various accounts. That was hardly extraordinary these days. It was quite normal for someone in Edward’s former line of work, who’d been successful over many years, and who’d carefully managed the money that had come his way. Edward had never been anything less than generous to friends and family. Neither had he thrown his money away on silly, indulgent expense. That way, he’d preserved the bulk of his income and now had a mixed portfolio which was able to flourish in good times as well as ride out the bad.
In truth, he didn’t know his true worth. It no longer really mattered to him. He just contented himself with the thought he was a millionaire. He was actually worth a lot more than that. He just couldn’t be bothered to figure it out, largely because he just wanted to be seen as an ordinary man in the street. That was how he wanted Jill to view him. He wanted her to like him for who he was and not for any money he might have. Unfortunately, Alice had been told at their first meeting he was rich. Perhaps in retrospect that might have encouraged her interest in him. He’d let her keep the house for the duration of her lifetime if they did split up. He’d also give her some kind of generous divorce settlement. He’d go and live somewhere else, somewhere altogether humbler, and more basic. He wasn’t bothered. It was all he really needed. He’d never really needed the big house he had. He’d only ever really needed Angela and the children.
Edward led Beti past the St Helen’s Rugby and Cricket Ground and its’s long car park, past the entrance to Singleton Park and the Swansea University Campus. Beti didn’t complain or try to pull back on her lead. They only ever maintained a modest pace, appropriate to their ages in human and dog years. They were probably of a comparable relative vintage. Edward wasn’t a young man. Beti wasn’t a young dog. She had grey in her fur, just as most of his remaining hair was grey. Neither of them was quite decrepit either. They both still had a few years left in them.
They continued along the Mumbles Road, past the boating lake and athletic track, where they crossed over to walk on the beach side and enjoy views of the bay all the way round to Mumbles Pier. Eventually, they reached the car park for Clyne Valley Park on the right and Blackpill Lido on the left. There, they crossed back over and headed for the entrance to Clyne Gardens. It could easily be missed by those who didn’t know its location. There was a pub on the corner, which provided a convenient signpost to the park. It was one Edward remembered from his student days. They’d gone there on occasion when Angela had still been staying in Clyne Halls. It would make a perfect choice for a spot of lunch, Edward thought. He could get a bit to eat there, before deciding whether to walk or get the bus back.
Clyne Gardens was busier than the other parks he’d been to on his stay. It was clearly very popular with local, retired walkers. A number stood by the entrance with their hiking sticks. Edward had no need for one of those just yet. The terrain wasn’t quite that steep. He had no doubt he could manage it unassisted and in his normal clothes and shoes. He didn’t even have walking boots, as all these other eager walkers had. Some looked at if they’d just completed their trek around the grounds. Others looked just ready to start. All looked content to be in the open air and keeping healthy and active. They were a good example to those of Edward’s age and older.
Edward began his walk through the bog gardens, that followed the watercourse that dissected the bottom edge of the estate. Classically shaped leaves, extending from huge bog plants that he recognised by sight but the names of which eluded him, surrounded him on all sides. They were intermingled with splashes of fragrant colour. Occasionally, the path opened up, allowing glorious views of what resembled a tropical rainforest. Edward took pictures as he went, Beti waiting patiently by his side as he did so. Edward had closely examined the map on entry and observed if they followed the watercourse to the top of the gardens, they would eventually reach its most famous feature, the Japanese Bridge, at the north-western edge. It proved to be quite a long walk. Edward had done it in his youth. It seemed much further as a retired man of sixty. When they finally reached the stunning, red Japanese bridge, Edward took more pictures, before finding a bench for them to sit and rest on. It had been quite a trek. Perhaps hiking boots and sticks might have been helpful after all.
Once they recovered their breath, they made their way through the Bluebell Wood and Heather Beds, past the striking gazebo on the left, stopping to sit again at the Italian Bridge. Luckily, it was downhill all the way now and the path was much easier to traverse. The estate castle stood proudly behind them, and stunning views lay in front of them. Eventually, they made their way back down past the wildflower meadow on one side and the tower on the other. They’d managed to walk the entire grounds. Even he and Angela had rarely done that, forty years earlier. They’d normally just walked a little way, before finding somewhere to sit, hold hands and look longingly into each other’s eyes. Those days were over. He just had Beti now, and perhaps Jill.
Despite eating a cooked breakfast and two cakes, Edward suddenly started to feel the pangs of hunger coming over him. It was almost one-thirty in the afternoon, past his usual lunchtime. It was time to head to the pub and get something to eat. No doubt, he’d find himself feeding titbits of whatever he had to Beti. She was highly unlikely to refuse them. She seemed happy to eat anything he ordered. She clearly had sophisticated tastes and didn’t restrict herself to the vegan diet Jill enjoyed.
At the pub, Edward ordered chicken in breadcrumbs, chips and peas and a pint of ale to go with it. He knew Beti would be pleased with his choice. He recalled dogs had to be careful with chicken bones, but this was all carefully filleted, as had been the fish at the marina restaurant. There would be no awkward bones for he and Beti to contend with. When his steaming plate of appetising food arrived, it looked mouth-watering. The chicken and chips were done to golden perfection. He couldn’t wait to tuck in. Beti evidently felt the same, as she eagerly looked up at him. The smell of his meal had clearly made her feel hungry as well. Edward had admitted to Jill that he fed titbits to Beti, and she was fine with it.
‘I can hardly expect Beti to be vegan, can I?’ she’d responded.
That had given Edward the green light and he shared everything he had with Beti after that, until she seemed full too or they’d mutually cleared his plate. She was always happy to have more. Having eaten, they meandered their way back onto the bay path and walked for a bit, to let their lunch go down. Eventually, Edward tired of walking. He looked down and sensed that Beti felt the same. They decided to wait for a bus that would take them most of the way back to the bookshop. If Edward remembered correctly, one stop was by the Brangwyn Hall. That would suit them perfectly. As promised, Jill had boiled the kettle and was getting a cup of tea ready to hand him as he walked through the door to drop Beti off.
‘Did you have a nice walk?’ Jill asked.
‘We certainly did, though we got the bus back, as you suggested. We were both tired after lunch,’ Edward said.
‘You must have walked a pretty long way still,’ Jill commented.
‘Far enough,’ Edward agreed. ‘My feet can definitely feel it. We walked as far as the Japanese Bridge. I’m certainly ready for a cup of tea.’
Beti was lapping at a bowl of water on the floor by her basket.
‘I think Beti was ready for a drink too, by the look of things,’ Jill observed.
‘She did have water in the pub. I had a pint,’ Edward admitted.
‘You do surprise me,’ Jill said.
‘Busy day?’ Edward asked, as all three settled down to enjoy their drinks.
‘Not too bad, just a few in, but I sold a couple of things,’ Jill said.
‘That’s good,’ Edward said, approvingly.
Jill then paused, before replying.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to return home.’
‘What do you mean?’ Edward asked, suddenly looking up, with a slightly perplexed expression on his face.
‘Well, it’s obvious really,’ Jill said. ‘You like books and there’s too much to do here for me to keep on top of. I’m barely coping at the moment. I can’t even keep the books sorted and catalogued, as you keep pointing out. I need help.’
‘I can see that. What were you thinking of?’ Edward wondered.
‘I thought you might like to look after the shop for a day or two a week, or a couple of mornings or afternoons, whatever you like really. I’m open to suggestion. It would mean I could take Beti out more myself and do some of the other things in my life, that are currently getting neglected. You seem like a very organised person. I’m sure you’d quickly get the shop running as it should be.’
Edward thought about it for a moment. He’d noticed Jill was much in need of help. He’d never seriously thought he might be the one to give it her. The notion was absurd and impossible. He had a wife and a home back in Oxford, or did he? Was it such a silly idea? Was it a total impossibility? He might like pottering round in a bookshop a couple of days a week. He could certainly get all the books sorted and up on the shelves in their rightful place, and perhaps improve Jill’s presence on the internet.
‘It’s a lot to think about,’ Edward said, at last.
‘I know. You don’t have to give me an answer straight away,’ Jill said quickly, almost embarrassed she’d made the suggestion in the first place.
It had just been on her mind. With Edward thinking of leaving, she’d been left with no choice but to come out with it.
‘It is an intriguing thought,’ Edward acknowledged. ‘I can see there is a lot I could do with this place. It has potential. It could be the best second-hand bookshop in South Wales.’
‘Well, Swansea perhaps,’ Jill laughed. ‘There are only a couple of them.’
‘How long would I stay and where would I live?’ Edward suddenly blurted out.
‘I’ve thought of that,’ Jill said. ‘You can stay as long as you like. Regarding where you live, you could stay on in the guesthouse. Alternatively, with Megan gone, I’ve got space upstairs. I’ve got two spare rooms in fact I hardly use. You could have one of them. I’ll give you reduced rent and everything. You can take a look now if you like.’
‘It does all sound very tempting,’ Edward recognised. ‘I think we are both forgetting one thing. I do have a wife, Alice, back home in Oxford. I also have a rather big house there.’
‘Do you want to go back?’ Jill asked. ‘I sense I’m not sure that you do.’
‘The truth is I don’t know myself,’ Edward admitted. ‘I came away to decide that, and to reflect on my former life here with Angela. It’s been two weeks and I’m no nearer deciding what I want. I was always so decisive during my working life. Now I don’t know my own heart. I don’t know what I want. What I will say is I’ll consider your suggestion. I’ll give it some thought overnight, and I’ll let you know tomorrow if that’s all right. How does that sound?’
‘It sounds fine to me,’ Jill said. ‘Of course, it doesn’t have to be permanent. You could just do it for a few weeks, until we get the shop sorted and you decide what you want to do next with your life.’
‘That too is a possibility,’ Edward nodded. ‘I guess I’ve got some hard thinking to do tonight.’
He was suddenly struck by the thought he’d already said his goodbyes to Meredith in the coffee shop. It would indeed be a bit embarrassing to go back there now. If he did, he’d probably leave it a few days, before making an unexpected appearance, to announce that he was planning to stay in Swansea after all. Not that he was certain that was what he wanted to do. It was a massive decision. There was much to consider, many pros and cons to weigh up. Oxford and the little village outside where they resided was his home. He had friends there. He was a popular member of the tennis club and other local bodies and organisations. Victoria wasn’t far away in London, even if he didn’t see all that much of her. Perhaps the crux of the matter was, did he still love Alice? Did she love him, or did she now love Paul?
‘Just let me know when you’re ready,’ Jill said. ‘Just promise me you won’t leave without saying goodbye.’
‘I can promise you that,’ Edward assured her. ‘I’ll pop by tomorrow afternoon with my answer, one way or another. Will you be here?’
‘What do you think? Of course, I will. I wouldn’t miss that,’ Jill said. ‘But don’t let me influence you. Do what’s right for you.’
‘OK and I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said, putting his teacup down and getting ready to leave.
Edward left a little more quietly than he’d arrived. It was a bit of a bombshell Jill had dropped. It had rather taken him by surprise. To an extent, it made perfect sense. In other ways, it made no sense whatsoever. What was he to do? He had no idea. He thought about ringing Alice and asking her advice of all things. Perhaps it rather hinged on whether she was with Paul now, or did that really matter? Didn’t what Edward want also matter too? Did he want to go back to Oxford and fight for Alice, or did he want to stay here in Swansea with Jill and Beti? Were he and Jill just friends, or were they slowly becoming more than that? Edward didn’t know. They did seem to have formed some kind of mutual understanding that transcended mere friendship. Perhaps he was just imagining it. Perhaps Jill simply wanted some help in her bookshop and nothing more than that.
Edward sat quietly in the pub that night, pondering all these thoughts and trying to sift his way through them as best he could. He’d had a light evening meal, washed down with a glass of red wine. He hadn’t really been in the mood to drink, but that had changed. He’d now moved onto the beer and would probably have a whisky with Alan and Gwen before the end of the night. It really was a pretty pickle he’d managed to get himself in, and a dilemma he was struggling to resolve. Should he stay or should he go? He still didn’t know the answer. Should he follow his heart, or should he allow his head to rule? Which one was right? What were each telling him to do? Did he even know that much? He suspected his heart was telling him to stay, whereas his logical side said he should go back. Another course of action was of course to return to Oxford, get things sorted with Alice and then return to Swansea. He hadn’t thought of that. It was a kind of third, compromise option. When he got back to the guesthouse, he invited Alan and Gwen’s opinion.
‘I’ve had an offer to stay in Swansea,’ Edward announced.
‘Oh, how’s that?’ Alan asked, intrigued by Edward’s news.
‘Jill, the bookshop owner, whose dog I take for walks, has asked me to help out in the shop,’ Edward explained.
‘Are you going to do it?’ Gwen asked.
Her interest in the conversation had also suddenly been aroused and gone up a notch. It had moved on from the usual evening pleasantries, of Edward describing in detail what he’d done that day.
‘I don’t know yet. I honestly haven’t decided,’ Edward admitted. ‘Either way, this weekend is likely to be my last in the guesthouse I’m sad to say. If I do stay in Swansea, it’s been suggested I take a room over the shop,’
‘Well, it’s been lovely having you,’ Gwen said.
‘You’ve been a model guest,’ Alan added.
‘I want to thank you for looking after me so well,’ Edward said. ‘I really will be sorry to leave. I’ve had a simply marvellous stay here. It’s been absolutely wonderful.’
‘Well, you know where we are if you ever want to stay again,’ Gwen reminded him.
‘I shall certainly do that. Either way I’ll still be here tomorrow night if that’s OK. Sunday is the day of reckoning. I’ll either be heading back to Oxford then or moving into Jill’s place, I guess,’ Edward said.
‘Do what’s best for you,’ Gwen suggested.
‘That’s good advice,’ Alan agreed.
It was indeed.
‘Funnily enough, that’s exactly what Jill said,’ Edward laughed, as he finished his whisky and soda, put down his glass, said goodnight and headed off to bed.
