And that was what she wanted.
A sharp tap on the window broke her thoughts. She turned to see a droplet of water shimmering there.
‘What was that?’ her mum asked.
‘Rain, I think,’ Greta said. She placed her napkin down and stood up, watching as the drop trickled down the window. Overhead, more clouds had turned grey. More droplets followed, sparkling like glass beads before sliding down. ‘It’s started to rain.’
A hush fell over the café. Everyone stopped what they were doing. Another drop fell. Then another.
Urgent whispers broke out among the customers. Outside, a man rushed past, staring skywards in disbelief. A mother pulled her child close, shielding them from the unusual sight.
It was just a light shower, a normal occurrence in Longmill. But here? It felt like a sign.
Time was running out.
‘Have you ever seen it rain here?’ she asked her mum.
Marjorie looked out of the window. ‘No. Never.’
Greta exhaled. ‘I’ve always liked the rain. Curling up in a coffee shop with a good book while it pelts down outside . . .’
And with those words, sheknew for sure.
I want to go back to my real home.
She wanted to feel the rain on her face, and to warm her socks on the radiator. To save up for things that mattered, and to collapse onto the sofa after a long day. She wanted to eat brownies that were so sweet they made her teeth ache, and with cherries that stuck to the roof of her mouth. To embrace the rough days because they made the good ones shine even brighter.
I want to go home.
She turned to her mum, her heart full of sorrow, yet also tinged with hope. Greta wished she could keep her close forever. But Mapleville wasn’t her true home. Her mum might no longer be physically present in her life in Longmill, but she wouldalwaysbe with her—in her blood, in the way she spoke, in the choices she made, and in how she would raise Lottie. Marjorie would always be a part of her. Greta might notseeher anymore, but she would alwaysfeelher presence.
Greta’s jaw tightened as she turned to face her mum. ‘I’m so sorry, Mum, but I have to go. I need to see Jim and Lottie.’ Marjorie smiled as if everything was normal. ‘That’s okay, love.’ She reached for Greta’s hand. This time, her fingers felt cooler, less like her mum’s. ‘We can catch up soon.’
Greta swallowed hard.But we can’t. Not if I leave.
She voiced her worry aloud. ‘I’m scared I’ll never see you again . . .’
Marjorie let out a gentle laugh. ‘Don’t be silly. We live in the same town.’
Greta didn’t argue. Instead, she leaned in slowly, wrapping her arms around her mum. She held on tightly, never wanting to let go.
Marjorie chuckled. ‘Be careful, you’ll smudge my make-up.’ Outside, the a cappella singers were putting up umbrellas. They started to sing.
Hurry along, don’t be late,
you don’t want to make anyone wait.
Make your decision, make it fast,
your time here isn’t going to last.
You’re always at home with Maple Gold.
Greta pulled back, blinking hard. ‘I have to go. I love you, Mum.’
‘And I love you, too, sweetheart.’ Marjorie’s voice was light, as if this was just another ordinary goodbye. ‘Would you like to meet tomorrow for coffee?’
‘Yes,’ Greta said, fighting back tears. ‘That sounds wonderful. We could have macarons.’
