Kirsten looked at her daughter. ‘Rosie, pass the cake please?’
The little girl brought it over, and asked cheekily, ‘Mummy, because I’ve been good, can I have the rest of my Easter eggs today?’
‘Child, you are positively powered by chocolate.’
‘Is that why she has so few teeth?’ Harley grumped.
Kirsten sputtered a laugh. ‘Nope, it’s because her big ones are coming through.’ Shaking her head, she dished out flaky, iced slices oozing with velvety smooth custard. ‘We haven’t got bubbly, so we’ll raise a pastry instead.’ She stopped, thinking, and then her mouth curved. ‘Here’s to the adventure we’re embarking on to build a strong community and village. Let’s aim for healthy hearts and long lives.’ She held hers aloft, mimicking a champagne toast. ‘To new beginnings.’
Smiling, they held up their pastries and except for Harley, chorused, ‘New beginnings!’
CHAPTER 6
Tori
Wish Others Well
Dear Notebook,
Yesterday’s meeting was a joke. Group of strangers somehow rebuilding abandoned cottages, and only half of them up for it? Can’t breach contract so will do my cottage eventually, but not yet. Don’t need responsibility and hardly cope with getting out of bed every day, never mind anything else. It’s three o’clock and have only re-read opening chapter of book four times, stared at wall for two hours, dragged old clothes on after quick sink-wash, and eaten buttered bread.
Not convinced about this Roseto business (though did read two interesting articles last night) and have zero intention being part of some pointless community-based project. Was so hard being surrounded by people. Also, Site Manager got too close and the guy from council keptlookingat me. Shuddered, reminding me of last time was in crowded room… no— no— don’t— please?—
Hand drops to jagged, ridged scars on abdomen. Stop, Tori. Deep breaths. In, out. In, out.
Get hold of myself. Should unpack. Only got out kettle, toaster and microwave yesterday. Didn’t bring much from flat in Southside, but will never return to multi-cultural Birmingham. Gave most clothes to Sabina. Party dresses, short skirts, tight tops, heels, handbags. Won’t use again. Best friend may as well profit from my trauma. Only packed laptop, books, kitchen utensils, TV, toiletries and casual clothes. Sold squashy sapphire sofa and matching armchair, assorted gem-coloured cushions, turquoise rug, beech coffee table and fuchsia towels. Threw out bedding and gave remaining stuff to charity. Don’t want memories of previous life.
Lounge looks like barren wasteland. Only TV unit occupies corner of peachy pearl-toned wallpapered room. Dad sorted streaming box and Wi-Fi hub, checking to make sure technician left before my arrival. Need new sofa but can’t afford it, and not as if needed for company. Am okay being alone. Though maybe gives too much time to think about things don’t want to… Huh. Someone at door. Knocking, calling my name. Sigh. Quicker just to answer.
Was Albie in white espadrilles, chinos and Hawaiian shirt, like something out ofMiami Vice.Have never met someone dressing so quirkily. Asked how I was then said he needed fresh air, and could I go to walled garden with him because arthritic knees playing up. Think it’s just pity, which I hate. Makes me more of a victim, even if people don’t know what happened.
Replied saying I had work, avoiding eye contact in case could tell I was lying. Haven’t worked in months, have writtennothing professionally sinceIThappened. Creative tap turned off, with no ability to tell people’s stories. Was off sick initially, and both Editor and HR rep confirmed the paper would wait a few months, but in the end, couldn’t face returning. Being reminded of what was lost. Resigned once mortgage completed (dad helped with sizeable deposit, and as guarantor) then went freelance. But can’t seem to write, hence running out of money. Will have to do something soon. Don’t want to ask my parents for anything else. Seeing Albie again reminded me of article he mentioned about care home. Maybe track it down and do an updated piece? Might kick-start me.
Feel bit bad turning down his request. Maybe lonely, and needed company? But not in mood for chatting or being outside, although did crank open window earlier. Smells ripe in here. Might be me. Huh, should probably have shower. Been a few days. Just won’t look at naked body.
Another day. Breakfast was leftover Easter eggs dad smuggled into one of boxes, while gazing at distant green fields bordered by hedges and dotted with cows and sheep. Scent of freshly cut grass drifted through window, lifting spirits. World didn’t feel as bleak as usual. Hum of engine somewhere. Maybe Site Manager mowing back lawn? He looks familiar, can’t quite place him.
Knock at door. Shocker. Bet it’s Albie/Gandalf again. Wonder what he’ll be wearing today. Thought amusing, despite myself.
Yep. Was new best friend. Brought several novels from manor library, said saw me looking other day. PushedWuthering HeightsandThe Buccaneersinto my hands, remarking I look like, ‘a classics girl.’ Surely, more bag lady, in patterned baggy trousers and slouchy sweater?
Albie in dark blue jeans, cowboy boots and denim shirt with tartan pockets. Only thing missing was Stetson. Auditioning to be in Wild West film, orYellowstoneseries? Didn’t ask.
Thanked him for books, secretly touched. Think he was hoping for invite, but not ready yet. Before leaving, told me he understands I want to be left alone, went through something similar. Tearfully explained wife, ‘My darling Rose,’died many years ago. Shut himself away for long time. Death was sudden, tragic road traffic accident, hit by car while out shopping. He was angry at driver, people, the world, but doing kindnesses for other people helped. Started sitting on committees, volunteering in charity shops, and supporting school children with reading. Didn’t feel so alone, gave him sense of purpose, and aided recovery. Finished with, ‘If you can find it in your heart to wish others well and help them even when you’re in pain, youwillbe okay in the end.’
Didn’t know how to reply, so just nodded.
After he left, threw books on counter and scrap of paper floated out.Wish others wellin old-fashioned cursive writing. Hmmm. No actual good deed to be done, only sending positive vibes into universe? Seems bit vague. On other hand, doesn’t cost anything. And just because own life has gone to shit, doesn’t mean want other people’s to.
Now, can hear Albie watching TV. Walls should be thick enough to block sound but maybe there’s a crack somewhere.Bridgertonintro music plays, and genuine smile creases face. Loved first season – especially Eloise’s feistiness, and close-knit family like mine in thebefore– and glad Daphne had courage to punch creepy suitor. Only wish I’d foughthimoff when he first came up to me in bar. Just wasn’t expecting it. Dua Lipa blasting from speakers, loosened by cocktails, bantering with Sabina, Molly and Amber about cute guys in booth?—
No. Not that night. Remember another one. Cuddled up on sofa with friends, wine glasses in hands, sharing chocolate bar… laughing, chatting, happy. Talking about celebrity crushes including Amber’s massive one on footballer with impressive, muscular thighs.
Single knock at door. Albie again? Climb off bedroom window seat where reading, answering less reluctantly than before. Balls. Think Gandalf growing on me.
No, cake tin on doorstep, left with handwritten note. Must be the day for them.
You didn’t stay for cake in the library,
