Page 11 of A New Life in Amsterdam

‘Lovely place, Ms Davies,’ says a friendly estate agent as he pokes around the different rooms. I’m glad he is so positive; that is usually a good start.

‘Prices have gone up in the past year so it’s a good time to sell. I think the market will bottom out by the beginning of next year.’

‘Right. So, do you think it’ll sell quite quickly then? The thing is, I’ve just been told the paperwork will be ready for my new home by the end of the month. I’m looking at leaving as soon as I can.’

‘Yeah, that’s not a problem. We can keep the keys in the office, and we’ll notify you of any offers, don’t worry.

At least you won’t have to come back and empty it all,’ he says, looking around the practically empty living room.

I notice how he eyes up the bean bag I removed from Hannah’s room to use in place of the sofa that I let the clearance guys take.

‘Yes, well, I’m eager to get over there.’

‘I can see. Right, I’ll put it on the market immediately and keep you updated.’

‘Great. That simple, hey?’

‘Yeah, very simple. Houses around here don’t stay on the market for too long. I’ll get the photos up on our website by the end of the day.’

It surprises me how calm I feel. I thought I might be nervous when this beautiful family home we all loved so much finally went up for sale.

My younger self would have been horrified, but it feels like freedom.

Downsizing isn’t a bad thing in the slightest, and I don’t know why anyone would be afraid of it.

I certainly won’t miss mowing the third-of-an-acre lawn every summer. This is all for the best.

However, while I am comfortable with my decision to sell, I have an urge to call Hannah. I need to hear her voice inside this house once again. I press on video call so that she can have a look around one final time.

‘Hiya, love.’

‘Hi, Mam. Everything okay?’

‘Yes, absolutely wonderful. I just wanted to tell you that the estate agent has been around and the house is going on the market this week. I’ve already emptied it. You want to see it?’

‘Yeah, I’d like that. I still can’t believe my family home is going.’

I look at her in her t-shirt and shorts. Her mousy-brown hair has already gone a little more golden from the sun out there. Seeing her reminds me just how much I miss her. Is it selfish of me to secretly wish my baby girl could have stayed small forever and not grown up?

‘I know, but you’re so far away now.’

‘Well, what if I fly back? Shall I come and see you?’

‘Oh goodness, no. You enjoy yourself there. Don’t even think about coming back. You’ve not been there that long. Besides, you know how long the flight is.’

‘I know, but I’m worried you might be making a mistake. Once our home’s gone, it’s gone forever.’

‘I get that, but I’m rattling around here. I don’t use half the rooms. It’s a waste of money paying council tax bills and keeping this just for myself.’

‘Yeah, I guess.’

‘Look, I’ve already worked out that if something goes wrong in Amsterdam, which I hope it doesn’t, then I can always buy something small. There are always the retirement flats.’ I laugh, hoping Hannah realises I am kidding.

‘No, anything but those,’ she jokes.

‘You see, it could always be worse. Now, where’s your sense of adventure? You’re the first one to love a change of scenery.’

‘Yeah, I guess you’re right. So, go on then, show me the house one last time.’

I show Hannah around the kitchen first.

‘I finally got rid of the cuckoo clock. It did nearly kill me though.’

‘Oh, Mam, I never liked that thing. I’m quite sure I pulled the cuckoo out because he was freaking me out.

I’ve always been a bit weird about birds because of that thing.

’ Hannah is laughing but I can’t work out whether we genuinely scarred her for life and she needs therapy because of that silly cuckoo clock.

‘Oh, he was only on a spring.’

‘I know, but the way he shot out like that. Frightened the life out of me.’

‘Bless. Well, he’s finally gone in the bin now. You want to see your bedroom?’ I head upstairs to show Hannah her old room, hoping she doesn’t get upset seeing it empty.

‘Oh, you took all the posters down.’

‘Yes, sorry, love. I’ve had to be absolutely ruthless. Even Garfield’s been sold.’

‘Oh, it’s fine. Don’t worry. I’m sure the new owners won’t want posters of McFly on their walls.’

‘No, probably not.’

‘Anyway, I don’t even know why I made such a big deal about those posters. The walls would have looked better with some nice pictures on.’

‘Wow, you are growing up.’

‘Well, I’m thinking aesthetically. I was telling Dad I might go into interior design when I’ve eventually had enough of doing odd jobs.

I’m loving my freedom too much at the moment.

I think everyone needs to do what they want with their lives.

There shouldn’t be any constraints or expectations on anyone.

So, I suppose I need to be happy for you instead of being so worried.

I know you love the sun, but you always fancied the houseboat lifestyle, didn’t you? ’

‘Yeah, I did, but with a family it’s not so easy. Now it’s my time for an adventure, just like you’ve had with moving to Oz.’

‘I understand. I suppose it’s for the best you’re moving on. You know, Dad’s moved on. He’s met an Australian woman. Her name’s Mary.’

‘Oh. That’s nice for him.’

‘Yeah, she’s from Melbourne. He went to a school reunion and met her there. They were at school together. I hope you’re not hurt I’ve told you, Mam. It’s just that I’d hate to think you weren’t living your best life thinking about Dad.’

‘No, it’s fine. It’s up to Dad, isn’t it? I mean, it’s just one of those things. Mary’s a lucky woman to have such a genuine guy.’

‘You’ll have someone again one day too, Mam.’

‘What if I don’t want anyone? Being alone means I haven’t got to answer to anyone.

You know, today I thought I might buy a bright pink sofa for the houseboat.

Wouldn’t that be funky? In fact, now I’ve said it out loud, I’m going to order one I’ve seen online and get it sent directly to Amsterdam.

Did you know houseboats have their own addresses and get post?

It’s weird but I hadn’t thought about those things before. ’

‘Great. Well, I guess I have a cool mam. I’m proud of you, really. Wait until I tell Aaron.’

‘Who’s Aaron?’

‘A guy I’ve been seeing. It’s early days but he’s nice.’

‘I’m happy to hear that. You never really related to any of the boys around here, did you?’

‘Nope. I always felt like a fish out of water with them. I always felt more Aussie.’

‘I guess you and your dad have always been so close. It’s not surprising.’

‘Yeah, I definitely have more of the Aussie in me than the Welsh. So, anyway, I’d better go, Mam, because Aaron’s coming over any minute.’

‘Yes, of course. Well, I’m glad you don’t mind about the posters!’

‘Oh no, I don’t mind at all. You know, sometimes we hang onto things when we should have let go of them a long time ago.’

‘Aren’t you wise, Hannah? And so, so, right.’

Listening to how Hannah is so matter-of-fact makes me even stronger.

There was a bit of me that felt guilty for selling the old family home and getting rid of generational heirlooms. Every now and then it hits me that this is my final goodbye to my empty nest, where I sat up all night when Hannah was sick, or served meals in the dining room for Paul and Hannah when the wind howled outside our door.

This house has kept us snug and protected for over twenty years.

Now I feel as though I am being ungrateful for leaving it behind on a whim.

But this is a house that needs to be filled.

It needs children to run around the bedrooms; it should be full of noise and love and people, and I can no longer fulfil what it calls for.

I realise that the time has come for someone else to be resident here. After all, that is all we are for any home; merely custodians for the time we are there, and my custodianship here has come to an end.