Everything is Beautiful by Eleanor Ray (best classic romance novels txt) 📕

‘I’ll bring it back,’ she offered reluctantly.

‘No rush,’ said Richard.

‘I’m sorry about your pot,’ added Charles. ‘Was it a special one?’

‘They are all special,’ said Amy.

‘Like my JCBs,’ agreed Charles. He grinned at her again. ‘I’ll show you.’

‘No thanks,’ said Amy quickly.

‘I see one star!’ said Daniel. He released Amy’s hand and flung himself backwards so he was lying down facing the sky.

‘Bit of a Saturday-night tradition,’ explained Richard, lying down himself. ‘I’m enjoying it so much I’ve already designed a conservatory so we can stargaze year round. Maybe even catch a few sunsets.’

‘Dad’s an ar-chi-tect,’ explained Charles, pronouncing the word carefully, as if it might break.

‘Want to join us, Amy?’ asked Richard, lifting his head again. ‘There’s plenty of room on the blanket.’

‘No,’ said Amy, feeling a bit thrown by the allusion to sunsets. ‘I just wanted to ask you something.’ She hesitated. ‘A favour, I suppose.’ All three were lying down now in a little circle, their heads close to each other and their bodies fanning out like the spokes on the wheel of a bicycle. After an awkward moment watching them, Amy crouched down. Her knees clicked in objection.

‘Come on,’ said Charles. ‘Lie next to me.’

‘And me,’ said Daniel.

Amy didn’t feel right lying in a neighbour’s garden, but she did have to talk to Richard. She sat down on the blanket next to him, clasping her arms around her knees. Richard had his hands folded under his head, and when he breathed out she could feel the rough skin of his elbow gently grazing her ankle. She shifted herself further away. ‘About the fence . . . ’ she began.

‘There are billions of stars,’ Charles told her, sitting up and wriggling closer to her. He turned towards her as he spoke, and she could smell chocolate raisins on his breath. He thrust his head backwards to look up.

‘Squillions,’ said Daniel.

‘That’s not a real number,’ said Charles. He smiled at Amy. ‘He’s too little to understand,’ he said. ‘Not like us.’

Amy looked up. More stars were appearing as the light faded. The sky was vast and surrounded them, like a giant salad bowl over their heads. She tried to bring up the wall, but found it harder than she’d envisaged to talk of a divide when they were all sharing the same sky. Instead she blinked and looked back at the stars, feeling tiny. She used to do this a lot when Tim first went missing, finding comfort in the fact that he could be looking at the same sky.

‘Shh,’ said Richard, although none of them had said anything. ‘Listen.’

Amy obeyed. There was a gentle rustling sound in the leaves. ‘That could be a hedgehog,’ said Richard.

‘Or a frog,’ said Charles.

‘Or a dinosaur,’ contributed Daniel.

‘Rachel has mice,’ said Amy, feeling wicked. ‘It could be one of them.’

Birdsong rang out. ‘That’s a robin,’ said Richard. ‘Out past its bedtime.’

Amy listened and her mind went to her own birds. ‘The fence,’ she said. ‘Perhaps a—’

‘I’ve already bought a new fencing panel,’ Richard told her. ‘I’ll put it up next weekend.’

‘Maybe something sturdier?’ began Amy. ‘I was thinking that a wall . . . ?’

‘Oh, the fence will be fine,’ said Richard. ‘It will keep the monsters out.’ He reached a hand out and tickled Daniel, who chortled with delight.

‘We can ring the front doorbell if we want to visit Amy though, can’t we, Dad?’ asked Charles.

‘You’ll have to ask her,’ Richard replied.

‘Can we? Please?’

Amy stood up. ‘I don’t really think—’

‘I’ll bring pineapple juice,’ said Charles.

‘And ice cream,’ added Daniel.

‘And JCBs,’ continued Charles. ‘A digger and a crane. The excavator is special so it stays in my room.’

Amy didn’t have the strength to fight back. She’d just have to spend more time pretending not to be home. ‘We’ll see,’ she said, as she made her way back inside, blinking in the light.

August 2000

‘I can’t believe they’ve put us on at the same time as Blur,’ complained Simon, the bass player in Tim’s band. He looked out of the train window at the grey skies.

‘I know who I’m going to choose,’ said Chantel. ‘Damon Albarn is fit.’

‘No one is going to come and see us,’ said Simon, tragedy in his voice. ‘Our first gig at a festival will be a disaster.’ He leaned his head forwards, resting his forehead on his camping bag in a pose of dejection. ‘And it’s raining,’ he muttered. ‘Course it is.’

‘I can’t believe my mum is sunning herself in Dubai with Aunt Laura and I’m stuck here in the rain,’ complained Chantel.

‘I thought your mum hated the sun?’ said Amy.

‘Not as much as she hates her brother-in-law,’ replied Chantel, with a laugh. ‘I think Aunt Laura bought her the ticket just to torture her. Mum would probably rather be at this gig.’

‘I know where I’d rather be,’ replied Amy loyally, taking Tim’s hand. ‘Because this gig will be the best thing there ever was.’ Tim leaned in and nuzzled her ear gratefully.

‘You two are disgusting,’ declared Chantel. ‘I can’t believe I have to share a tent with you.’

‘Me neither,’ said Tim. He’d complained about it to Amy a lot, but she’d been adamant. Chantel had never been camping before and was terrified. There was also no way she’d make poor Chantel share a tent with Simon. ‘Couldn’t you buy a plane ticket?’ continued Tim. ‘You’re working now.’

‘Minimum wage on reception,’ replied Chantel. ‘Hardly the stuff of long-haul dreams.’

‘Cheer up,’ said Amy, glancing out of the window. ‘The rain has stopped.’

They all perked up at the sight of the sunshine cutting through the clouds, and Amy felt a little wave of excitement. Most of the people on this train looked just like them: young, scruffy, and with enormous backpacks presumably full of camping equipment, wellies and weed.

They finally pulled in at the station and followed the throngs of people through the town, across the bridge