Touching her fiancée’s arm, she hoped the trepidation at the thought of more IVF wasn’t showing on her face. ‘Let’s not talk about that now.’ Flinging open the front door, she added, ‘Let’s find out more about this commonhold association business. The contract listed several requirements, but the theory of something doesn’t always reflect the reality.’ They knew that better than most. Who’d have thought trying to have a child would be so brutal? Not to mention expensive, given NHS trustsdidn’t generally fund same-sex couples until they had multiple failed attempts.
‘It’ll be fine,’ Ariel replied with her usual self-assurance as she glided into the corridor. ‘We’ll have a baby. I’m manifesting positive thoughts.’
‘Uh-huh,’ Gilly replied as she locked up behind them. ‘For now, let’s focus our positive thoughts on meeting our neighbours and hoping they’re normal.’
CHAPTER 5
Albie
Choose Kindness, Every Day
This is where it starts, Rose,Albie thought, bracing himself for the meeting. He was glad he’d taken the time to swing by the entrance hall and pin Rose’s first rule for living on the noticeboard. He was going to need every little bit of help he could get.
Standing at the front of the grand but cosy-ambience library, he issued a loudahemto claim everyone’s attention. Not everyone had arrived, but he feared those in attendance would leave if he didn’t get on with it.
Two women rushed into the room as he opened his mouth to speak, cutting off their conversation mid-flow and taking seats behind a lone, swarthy-looking man. In front of him, a polished woman in her twenties with a sleek blonde hairstyle studied her slim mobile phone as a small boy raced toy cars over the expensive rug beneath her stilettoed feet. They were certainly a varied bunch.
‘Good afternoon, everybody, thank you for coming,’ he began. ‘We?—’
A short redhead in jeans bustled in, murmuring a lowsorry. Hurrying up the makeshift aisle, she cradled a delicious-smelling cake tin on one hip while holding the hand of a little blonde girl. Albie smiled at them, gratified when they flashed him identical toothy grins and sat down in the front row.
‘Hi,’ she supplied breathlessly, pink-cheeked, ‘I’m Kirsten, this is my daughter Rosalie, but Rosie for short. Sorry we’re late.’
‘Hello. Pleased to meet you.’ Albie marvelled at the girl’s name, still convinced it was a sign. ‘Now, thank you all for coming.’ He projected his voice to the wider room. ‘I’m Albie – never Albert, I won’t answer to it – Curville. I’m sure we’ll be very happy here. Beaubrook Manor is a prestigious—’ a sharp bong sounded from the grandfather clock, making him jump, and he adjusted his words, ‘ahem, special property, and we also have the most stunning views of streams and meadows, not to mention the walled garden.’ He paused as a few people nodded. How long would it take them to find out quite how special this place was? ‘Getting down to business, you’ll be aware of the clauses in the commonhold agreement. I wanted to take this opportunity to run through them and discuss how it could work in practise. It’ll take time and energy, and it’s important we get this right.’
They had no idea quite how important it was, and he hoped they saw a man with purpose and drive, rather than a doddery old fool. ‘I’ll happily be Chair of the association given I’m retired, but if someone else wants to lead meetings and co-ordinate our activities, I will gladly step aside or be deputy.’ Was anyone willing to step up? Silence. ‘I appreciate people are busy with other commitments,’ he searched their faces one by one, ‘but it’ll be easier if we pull together, so…’
More silence. More waiting.
Kirsten twisted around in her seat, seeing the mixture of frowns and evasive expressions on the others residents’ faces. She raised an eyebrow. ‘Right. Okay. Well, you’re fine as Chair then, Albie,’ she declared, ‘and I’ll volunteer to be Vice Chair. There’s nothing I love more than lists and throwing myself into things. Unless anyone objects?’
A few head shakes, an uncaring shrug from Tori, anofrom the man sitting alone, and the Site Manager pointedly checked his expensive-looking watch.
Kirsten rolled her eyes at Harley. ‘Okay, then. Go on, Albie.’
‘Thank you, my dear, that’s so kind. You must have your hands full already.’ He flicked his gaze to her daughter.
‘I always make time for things that matter.’
He nodded warmly. ‘Excellent. So, there are several stipulations in the contract.’ He addressed them, ticking items off on his fingers. ‘Firstly, we must spend fifty hours a year each tending the communal allotments. Should be easy as it works out at around an hour a week, even for those who are time poor. Secondly, we can’t sell our apartments within two years. Easy too, especially as people can rent them out if they need to move away sooner, although hopefully that won’t happen. Thirdly, we must hold a monthly commonhold association meeting, and attendance is compulsory except in the case of personal emergencies. Lastly,’ he took a deep breath, bracing for their reactions, although they were aware of the final clause, ‘the rebuilding of the cottages. In essence, the restoration of Little Beaubrook.’ This was at the heart of the promise he’d made his late wife. ‘We each got a marvellous deal buying a cottage for one pound as part of our purchase, and there’s a benevolent fund to help us get started, which must be within twelve months of moving in. How do we want to approach it?’
Another drawn-out silence. The walnut clock ticked in a steady rhythm, and he half expected to see tumbleweed roll across the gleaming floor.
Thankfully, Kirsten piped up. ‘Well, I can’t see any issues, and the cottage conversions sound like fun.’
‘Why?’ Harley called from the back of the room.
Standing, Kirsten studied the surly man, cheeks flushing. ‘Well, for a start, it’ll be a good way for us to get to know each other.’
‘No offence, but not everyone wants that.’
Kirsten’s eyes narrowed. ‘Offence taken?—’
Albie stepped in, wondering if Harley wasn’t engaging because he didn’t own his flat like the rest of them. ‘I appreciate everyone’s different, but we live together now. We must build a community thriving on mutual respect and kindness.’
Harley snorted. ‘Again, why?’
Albie tried to sound authoritative. ‘Because it’s what this place – and whatweall – deserve, especially after the last few years.’ He fell quiet, thinking of the shocking curve-ball pandemic and gruelling lockdowns, the distance from loved ones, the courageous key workers of the NHS, illness and loss, normality stripped away, people’s disappointing behaviour contrasted with the overwhelming grace and goodness of others. He could see on their faces they were remembering too. Reliving. Regretting. Wanting to put it behind them, as if it’d never been part of their existence. In some ways, it no longer felt real.
