Chapter Fifty-Four

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The start of Michaelmas brought respite from the insanity of the second book. Thank God. My first book was going to be released in America in March and I would do a six-week tour then. I couldn't think about that, though. Alex would be able to join me for a bit, but on the whole I was going to be on my own. In one way that was nice—I wasn't mad about Alex being in America, it simply seemed wrong—but I also wasn't looking forward to being thousands of miles away from her. When I'd told her she said, 'Darling, you worry too much. We've nearly five months before that tour begins. Just relax and enjoy your break.'

She was right (of course) I did worry too much and we did have five months before I was to return to America. For the first time in more than two years. So. Five months of recuperative time before the tour with an order to lie about. The change was so absolute it was odd. I'd thought that I'd love the opportunity to sprawl about after being on the go for so long, but the first day Alex returned to work the house was so quiet. I liked quiet, but I had grown accustomed to the background noise of always having somewhere to go or something to do whether it be a signing or an interview of some sort that it was rather spooky being in the vast emptiness of the house; kept company by the ticking of a clock and Clem's laboured breathing.

The first day of the term I rang Alex at lunch, 'Hello.'

'Hello, sweetheart, is everything all right?'

'Yes, everything's fine. Is there anything that needs doing around here?' I'd already had a tidy up of most of the rooms and played with the dogs in the back garden and thoroughly cleaned the kitchen. I'd wandered around and played a game of pool (I was getting rather good) and gone down and played a game of ten pins (I still reeked). I considered watching a movie in the cinema, but wasn't certain if I could sit still for very long, as I felt rather restless.

Alex asked, 'At a loose end, are you?'

'Yep.'

She chuckled, 'No writing ideas?'

'Eh, nothing exciting.'

'That's just as well, you could use a break.'

'Yes, but what am I to use the break for? I don't think I've ever had one before. In my life.' I had always been in school or working on a book.

She chuckled again, 'Then it's high time you had one, don't you think?'

'I suppose. Hey, I could sort out the guesthouse. We haven't set foot in there since we bought the place.'

'You certainly could do that. Don't hurt yourself trying to move furniture around, though.'

I said cheerily, 'All right', and rang off. Yay, I had a project! I got the girls together and we went out to the guesthouse to have a poke around. Wow. I had forgotten what a mess we'd left it in. Oh well, that only meant I'd have plenty to keep me busy. I clapped my hands together once and set about organising the ground floor with the happy thought that I could spend a few weeks there cleaning and sorting.

Every night at dinner Alex asked how it was going and I'd say, 'Coming along', and then we'd chat about her day. It was wonderful. I did become a bit obsessed with it, though, and spent the weekends in there as well whilst Alex worked in her studio. The studio was at the back of the house and faced the side of the guesthouse. If I was in the rooms that could see her studio sometimes I'd look out the window and wave or pull a face at her. She'd laugh and wave in return. It reminded me of when I'd watch her from the library. The house also gave me somewhere to go when Graham came by, which was about once a week now, but Alex continued to insist they weren't dating. And I continued to insist they were doing just that. Words had meanings, you know.

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