sorry, God, I obviously wasn’t paying any attention when you told me. It is great, and I am proud of you. I know you want to get on in the company and they clearly adore you—’
Luke raised one hand, his cheeks flushed, a row of teeth sparkling as he smiled at me. ‘Enough, enough, it’s fine, honestly, Lottie, it’s fine.’
I reached across and took his hand, cold from the glass. ‘It’s not fine. And I really am proud. And I’m sorry I’m only saying this now.’
Luke’s expression was priceless, a sort of happy, embarrassed, self-conscious grimace at me, a swipe through his hair. ‘My round, I think.’
‘No, absolutely not, you stay sitting here, I’m getting them,’ I said, standing up.
Luke laughed at my enthusiasm. ‘You really don’t have to.’
‘I have to be a bit less shit, don’t I? Let me at least wait on you hand and foot tonight.’
Luke shrugged and settled back in his chair, both hands up in surrender as I headed back to the bar, unable to resist turning back to look at him, a grin on my face. He returned my smile and I felt happiness flood through me, suddenly aware that it had been a long time since I had prioritised Luke and grateful that I had noticed now and could fix things.
Chapter 13
Love is . . . rather nice
ERNEST, 91
Luke had offered to come with me but I’d said no. It was great to feel so close to him again. I hadn’t realised how much I had missed his company recently, just bustling from work to Grandad to home with barely any time to stop and relax. Today, though, I wanted to go alone, to do this just with Grandad.
I felt nervous as I tied my hair into a loose plait and smoothed at the cream dress I had chosen to wear. Luke moved behind me, circling me in his arms and resting his chin on the top of my head. Our eyes met in the mirror and I swallowed down the lump that was building in my throat.
‘I better go,’ I said, leaning back into him for a moment before pulling away.
He kissed me goodbye. ‘Call me if you need me, I’ll come straight over. I’m not doing anything much.’
I knew he had arranged to see Adam, his best friend, for a catch-up, knew how much he was looking forward to it.
‘Thank you.’ The lump was back.
Grandad had dressed up too, his grey hair combed, wearing the yellow cashmere jumper Grandma had always loved on him and a pair of chinos.
‘You look beautiful, Lottie,’ he said, kissing me on the cheek.
It would be just us today. Dad had tried to get a flight over for the funeral but hadn’t managed to get out of a conference he was speaking at. Mum and Dad had both been over a few months before Grandma died, a tearful visit reminiscing about family holidays, favourite anecdotes, teasing: reminding her how much she was loved. It had felt like their goodbye at the time. So today it was me and Grandad, still something neither of us were used to. Grandma had always been at the centre of our small family. It felt as if we needed to channel her strength today.
‘I made tea and we can toast muffins. I know you like them.’
His voice sounded bright and I wanted to give him another hug for it. I knew how hard he would be finding today.
I moved into the kitchen and a breath caught in my throat as I saw it. The urn was on the dresser: Grandma. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it and for a moment we both stood in silence, feeling the occasion weighing on us. It had a deep blue finish and the kitchen lights were reflected in its polished surface.
We had discussed what we were going to do. I thought Grandad would suggest scattering the ashes at sea – Grandma had loved visiting beaches, being near the ocean. I had wondered if there was a special spot I’d never known about that she had loved, a romantic bay, a bench that overlooked some spectacular sea view.
Grandad had been sure from the start, nervous, I think, to see my reaction. The moment he suggested the spot I knew it was the right thing to do. We wanted to wait for the right day, and her birthday in September seemed the perfect opportunity.
Grandma had always loved the garden. Even when her illness had forced