Epilogue

L ydia taped the box she’d been working on closed and stood up, stretching. “I’ve got to say, if this is the last time we ever move, then I won’t be complaining.”

“Mmm, I’m not sure that’s terribly practical,” Cordelia said, grabbing a stack of books and putting them in a box. “I mean, I assume at some point we’re going to want to move to a bigger house.”

“Ah, when we have all those babies you say you want,” Lydia grinned.

“Hey, we talked about this.”

“We did, and I’m thoroughly on board,” said Lydia, marking her box with a pen so she knew what was inside. “However, I’m committing to one and seeing how it goes before deciding we need a football team.”

“I never said I wanted a football team,” Cordelia said, tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she tried to tetris books so that they all fit into the box.

“Fine, fine.” Lydia stretched again and went to Cordelia’s side of the living room. “Um, you really should split the books between different boxes, you know? Otherwise you’re going to have a couple of really heavy ones and they might break.”

There was a tiny second of silence. Cordelia bit her lip. “My boxes, my way,” she said finally, looking up and daring Lydia to say anything further .

“Okay, okay,” Lydia said, holding her hands up. She walked away, taking in the vast amount of boxes that they’d already packed. Honestly, packing up Cordelia’s house had taken longer than she’d planned. “Alright, so, the movers will be coming in tomorrow morning at seven. That gives us a few hours to get done packing up here. We need to be finished before it gets dark.”

“Yeah, remind me of why that is again?”

“Because there’s no electricity.”

“Yes, I know that. Remind me of why that is again?”

“I already explained it,” Lydia said patiently. “Since we’re moving a day after billing day it was easier to have the services cut off before we moved out, rather than having to pay another month of bills when we won’t be living here.”

“Mmm. I suppose.”

Lydia looked down at the pile of boxes by the wall. All had pristine brown outsides. “Um, Cordelia, none of these boxes have anything written on them.”

“Yeah, so?” Cordelia had tied her hair up in a messy bun on the top of her head. Tendrils hung down in ways that made Lydia want to kiss the soft skin on the back of her neck.

“You should write on the outside what’s on the inside so that we know when we get to the new house.”

“Why?” Cordelia said. She looked up now. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Obviously it does. Because, you know, knowing what’s inside every box would be useful.”

“We’re moving in,” Cordelia said. “We have to open every box anyway. That’s how moving works.”

“We’re not opening a hundred boxes all at the same time,” Lydia said.

“You’re just picking at things because I’m not doing this the way you think I should be.”

“I’m not,” Lydia said, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m just trying to make sure that this goes as smoothly as possible.”

“Then stop being critical. You’ve got all this planned like it’s D-day. ”

“I’m not being critical, Cord. But you should—”

“If you say that word again, I’ll explode.”

“Honestly, you’re so impractical sometimes I could scream,” Lydia began, exasperated. Then the phone rang, saving them both from any further argument. “Lydia Carlisle,” she said, answering it. Twenty seconds later she put the phone down. “I’ve got to go.”

“Of course you do,” Cordelia said, taping down another box. She sighed. “It’s probably for the best. We should know better than to do things like this together.”

“If you could only…” Lydia started before she could think. Then she sighed and shook her head. Getting Cordelia to think about anything logically was impossible and she really should give up trying.

It wasn’t that Cordelia didn’t have good qualities. She very much did. She was an excellent cook, providing that she remembered to go shopping and also providing that she had a shopping list so that she didn’t forget something essential.

She was caring and kind, but forgot everyone’s birthday.

She had the most unrealistic dreams that Lydia had ever heard of, including having a football team’s worth of children, though now she thought about it, Cordelia might have specified a cricket team rather than football.

“Just go,” Cordelia said. “I’ll meet you at the new house later.”

“Fine,” said Lydia and she left, still annoyed that Cordelia hadn’t at least been able to see why labeling the boxes was a good idea.

**

Ewa tore around the small garden on newly discovered legs.

“Christ, she’s fast as an eel,” Cordelia said, cradling her cup of coffee.

“Yeah, you try catching her when she doesn’t want to go home from the playground,” Magda said, sinking into a garden chair. “ And aren’t you supposed to be packing rather than gossiping around here with me?”

“We aren’t gossiping,” Cordelia said, sitting down too. “And I needed some sanity. Sod the packing. If it’s not finished this afternoon we can finish it tomorrow morning when the movers are there.”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Lydia,” Cordelia grumped. “She’s doing her ‘should’ thing again.”

“Oh yeah?” Magda said, raising an eyebrow.

“She’s got this whole move planned to a tee, honest to god, it’s like a military operation. And all she does is complain that I’m not doing things right.”

“Like what aren’t you doing right?”

Cordelia shrugged. “Like I’m supposed to be writing on the outside of the boxes what’s on the inside of the boxes, for example.”

“And you’re not?” asked Magda. “Because… you don’t want to know which box the toilet paper’s in?”

Cordelia opened her mouth to speak then slammed it closed because… actually that was kind of a good point.

Which was the problem with Lydia.

Lydia was by any metric amazing. She was funny and smart and well-organized and calm and confident and a million things that Cordelia couldn’t believe every day. She was also irritating as all get out, especially when she started with her ‘shoulds’. Even worse, her shoulds almost always turned out to be sensible and right.

Magda settled comfortably into her chair. “You know what you need?”

“What?”

“To calm down.”

“Helpful, thanks,” Cordelia said.

Magda grinned. “I try my best.” She put her coffee down on the grass next to her chair. “You know Oliver does this thing where he cuts all his toenails and puts the cuttings into a little pile for the end instead of throwing them away one by one.”

“Ew,” said Cordelia.

“I know, I hate it,” Magda said. “But I just let him get on with it because, well, because it’s not wrong, is it? It’s just his way of doing things and really it’s none of my business. I close the door on him and let him do it his own way. What’s the point in fighting over something when you’re both right in your own way?”

“You’re comparing me and Lydia fighting to collecting toenails.”

“He doesn’t collect them, just to be clear, he throws them away at the end,” Magda said. “But yeah, I suppose so. You don’t have to rise to the bait every time, Cord. You’re touchy about criticism or implied criticism, and Lydia is aware of that, I’m sure she is. But you have to meet her halfway.”

“I should label the boxes.”

“You should have a little more patience about the little stuff,” Magda said with a smile. “Because the big stuff is what’s important, you know that.”

“I know, I know,” groaned Cordelia. “We’re tired, moving is stressful and, yeah, there’s no excuse really.” She perked up a bit. “I’m trying to be more responsible though, I really am. I picked up the keys from the estate agent this morning, for example.”

“Go on then, show me,” teased Magda.

Cordelia laughed and put her hand in her pocket. Her empty pocket. She stopped laughing. The other pocket was empty too. Shit.

**

Sylv handed Lydia a bottle of water. “Honestly, this heat will be the death of us,” she said. “It’s not natural, being hot like abroad in England.”

“Climate change,” Lydia said, snapping the water open. “We need to educate people better though. Half the problems I’m seeing are simple dehydration.”

“Well, I’m sure that old Jim was glad that you were here, even if all he needed was a cup of tea,” Sylv said.

The old man had had a funny turn in the shop, but Lydia was sure it was just the heat. “Happy to help, it’s my job.”

“We’re still grateful to you,” Sylv said. “We know that we’re lucky. And I know that I’m lucky. I won’t find a lodger as good as you now that you’re moving out.”

“And I won’t find meals as sustaining as yours,” Lydia grinned. “But I’m not leaving town, I’ll be just down the road. In fact, I’ll probably be here every day, you know what Cordelia’s like. I’ll be having to pick up whatever she forgot to buy on my way home from work.”

“Aye, she’s not a practical one, that Cordelia,” Sylv said. She sniffed. “I am happy for you though, I don’t want you to think that I’m not. You’re moving on to the next stage of your life, and it’s a precious, exciting thing.”

“Thanks, Sylv.”

Sylv nodded thoughtfully, her chins wobbling. “It goes fast, so it does. Don’t let the minutes slip through your fingers for the sake of the hours.”

Lydia straightened up. “I won’t.” She needed to be easier on Cordelia, needed to understand that they saw things differently sometimes. It was just infuriating when… She took a breath.

Sylv was looking misty-eyed into the distance now. “I remember when my Art and I moved in together. Right after the honeymoon it was, in those days you didn’t live together before you got married.”

“Was he a good man?” Lydia asked. Sylv’s husband had been dead for more than a decade by now.

“He was always good to me,” Sylv said. “Course, he was a pain in my arse as well. Always demanding dinner on the table and wanting a bit of action when he came home from the pub and was incapable of doing anything about it.” She smiled. “But he was kind. And he made me laugh. You can’t ask for much more than that. ”

“No,” Lydia said. “No, you can’t.”

“Hold on to what you’ve got, love. It can go at any moment,” Sylv said. “That’s my advice to you. Now, I’ll have customers to serve, unless they’ve all fainted away from this heat. I’d better get back to it.”

Lydia left. She needed to apologize to Cordelia. She shouldn’t be so critical. But before she even reached the corner, her phone rang again. This time, it was Max.

**

Cordelia upended the box of books, spilling them everywhere, but there was not a single clink of metal. No keys there. She groaned to herself.

This couldn’t be happening. Lydia was going to be so cross. She was cross with herself. She’d put the keys safely in her pocket and now they were just… gone. She gritted her teeth. The damn things had to be around here somewhere.

In their new house she was going to make sure they installed a key rack right by the front door, just like Lydia had always said they should do.

“Please, let me just find them,” she said out loud.

And, and she’d never, ever snap at Lydia again for telling her how to do things properly. Not if she could just find the stupid, stupid keys.

She eyed the pile of boxes that she’d packed that morning. No. Please no. But it didn’t look like there was any other option. She had no idea where else the keys could be.

With a huge sigh, she lifted the top box off the pile. She might as well get this over with.

**

The accident was on the road leading into Whitebridge and Lydia got there as fast as she could. But as she climbed out of the car Max shook his head quietly and her heart sank.

“Motorcycle,” Max said. “He hit the curb from the looks of it. Wasn’t wearing a full face helmet. He didn’t stand a chance.”

Lydia closed her eyes for a second, then nodded. This was a part of her job. A part she hated, to be sure, but a part of it. She looked over to where the ambulance had already arrived, at the long shape covered by a white sheet and took a breath. “Need me to declare it?”

Max shook his head. “The paramedics can handle it. Sorry for calling you out, Lyd.”

“Don’t be. If there was the smallest chance…”

Max put a hand on her shoulder and they both stood in silence as the paramedics lifted the covered body.

And Lydia knew that it could all pass so quickly, that the universe could change in an instant. She’d witnessed it herself so many times, how one person slipping away tilted the world on its axis for one or two or a whole family.

She knew what was important.

They waited until the ambulance was on its way, no need for flashing blue lights.

“Want me to stay?” she offered.

“No, there’ll be road accident police along shortly,” Max said. He was pale.

“Get yourself a hot cup of sweet tea,” Lydia said.

“In this heat?” asked Max, smiling slightly.

“Or a sugary soft drink,” she said. “And get out of the sun. If you want to talk about this, just drop by the surgery, alright? Don’t be macho about it.”

Max smiled a little more. “What about me exactly screams macho?”

She smiled back. “I’m here if you need me, Max.”

“I know, thank you.”

She got back in her car, pulling slowly away. The afternoon had practically gone. She needed to find Cordelia, needed to apologize, to assure her that she was going to do better, that she was going to let more small things slide .

And it was late enough that Cordelia would be at the new house now. She put the car in gear and drove into town.

**

Lydia was going to kill her, there were no two ways about it. She was going to be mad as a sack full of snakes.

Not only had she lost the only set of keys to their brand new house, but she’d undone most of the packing they’d accomplished that morning, and she’d thrown off their entire schedule. Not to mention the fact that they’d be sleeping in the old house with no electricity tonight.

Cordelia paced around the tiny front garden of the new house, just waiting for Lydia to arrive. She really, really wished that she didn’t have to admit that she’d done this.

Lydia’s car glinted in the sun as she drove up and parked. Cordelia’s stomach felt wobbly. Lydia climbed out, her dark hair damp with sweat and her shirt slightly sticking to her back. Just seeing her face made Cordelia relax, made her smile, despite current circumstances.

“I’m so glad to see you,” Lydia said, practically running up the front path and taking Cordelia into her arms. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about this morning and I’m sorry about being anal about packing and I’m sorry about everything. I need to work on being more patient and less critical.”

Cordelia pulled out of the hug and felt her face flushing. “Um, you might want to hold on to those apologies for the moment. There’s been a, uh, a development.”

“A development?” Lydia asked, face turning serious. “Like what?”

Cordelia took a breath. “Um, well, the thing is…” She closed her eyes because she didn’t want to see the look on Lydia’s face when she said what needed to be said. “I, uh, I’ve lost the keys.”

There was a ticking silence.

Then a soft snorting .

A throat clearing.

Then an actual laugh.

Cordelia opened her eyes to find Lydia laughing so hard that tears were starting to appear in her eyes.

“You’ve lost the keys on the very first day?” Lydia sputtered.

“I’m so sorry,” said Cordelia. “I swear I didn’t mean to. I’m going to get a locksmith in first thing in the morning and then I’m going to buy a key rack to put right by the door, and I was thinking maybe one of those tracker things to put on my keys?”

Lydia stopped laughing but was still smiling. “It’s fine.”

“Fine?”

Lydia nodded. “Fine. As in, not a problem. Well, a small problem, but nothing insurmountable.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Nope.”

“You’re not going to tell me I should have put the keys somewhere safe?” Cordelia asked, disbelievingly.

“Nope.”

“But I should have,” said Cordelia.

“Life’s too short for should have,” said Lydia, looking up at Cordelia with big dark eyes. “I’m sorry it’s taken me a little while to understand that. And I’ve been thinking… since we’re moving into a new house, maybe we should make some new rules. Like banning the word should.”

Cordelia’s heart grew as she looked down at Lydia. “Is that practical?”

“Not in the slightest. But we can try. I can try.”

“Hmm. And what about all these moving plans?” Cordelia asked. “I’ve got to admit that I might have, um, made a bit of a mess back at the old house when I was looking for the keys.”

A tiny flash of irritation crossed Lydia’s face, but then she relaxed into a smile. “Then I’ll pick up some torches and lanterns from Max’s emergency stores and we can go back there and pack things up. How about I order a pizza?”

“I’m not sure that I’ve told you today,” Cordelia said conversationally. “But I love you. ”

Lydia put up one hand to cup Cordelia’s face. “I love you too.”

“And I’m never going to let a day go by without saying that again. No matter how irritated I get with you.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Lydia, leaning in to kiss her gently. “And you know how much I like plans.”

For a moment they stood in the fading heat, in front of the house where they would raise their family, and just breathed. Then Cordelia took Lydia’s hand. “Come on, there’s packing to do.”

Lydia let Cordelia lead her by the hand down the path, then she looked down and noticed something. “Those aren’t the trousers you were wearing this morning,” she said.

“No,” Cordelia said absently. “I got too hot. I pulled these ones out of a box. I know they’re a bit wrinkled but I didn’t think it mattered that much, but—” She stopped abruptly. “Oh shit.”

Lydia just laughed. “Well, at least we know where the keys are now,” she said.

“You really must love me,” groaned Cordelia.

“I wouldn’t have anyone else in the world,” Lydia said, as they climbed into the car. “Although if you’re going to insist on pineapple on this pizza then we might need to re-negotiate a few things.”

They drove slowly through the streets of Whitebridge as evening began to creep in, arguing about pizza toppings and very much in love.