‘This could be a new career line for you,’ Summer said. ‘You could open a boutique in the village and run workshops.’ She raised her hand and drew a horizontal line in the way people did when indicating signage. ‘Colours by Cherry.’
‘With a free glass of ginger wine for every customer,’ Cherry joked. It was completely not her but sounded idyllic. It was possible for both to be true at the same time. Most things in Kinshore ticked the idyllic box so far.
‘Amanda looks happy,’ Summer noted. ‘It’s lovely for her to have this sort of distraction. Nate said she’s been just about hanging on since Jimmy passed.’
‘Yes.’ Cherry thought Amanda was lucky to have asupportive network around her. Pam Paradise had found her fulfilment in tarot and Colour my World when her husband died. It gave people contact, but it wasn’t the same as friends. If only she had a better relationship with her daughter.
‘Right, you’re going to have to help me here.’ Eilidh bounced over to the kitchen with an empty champagne flute. ‘Is it possible to be a different season from your identical triplet sister? Because Cara won’t let the winter thing go, and I say we are both summer.’
Cherry refilled Eilidh’s glass. ‘You guys are definitely both summers; the deep rose did it for me.’ It was amazing how much of this stuff she had taken in from her mum, how naturally it came to her.People loved learning which colours suited them best and which style of clothing flattered their body shape.
‘Brilliant.’ Eilidh tripped off again, but not before declaring, ‘It’s amazing having a sister-in-law who knows all this stuff.’
A surge of warmth spread through Cherry at the ready acceptance that she was now someone’s sister-in-law, the closest she had been to having a sibling at all. To having a family full of love and acceptance.Kinshore was a lovely place to be this evening.
‘This has been such a great night,’ one of Amanda’s friends, Pauline, said as they were getting their coats. Sean had arrived home from a night out with some friends and had already asked everyone what season they were. ‘I hope you’ll host more, Cherry.’
‘Can do if there’s an appetite for it,’ she said.
Pauline beamed. ‘Brilliant! You could do hen do’s, baby showers, even an event at the nursing home…’
‘Funerals,’ Sean added, and Cherry tried not to laughtoo hard.
‘I could do,’ she said to Pauline. ‘Happy to see where the wind blows me.’
‘Wonderful. Your children will be colour-coordinated in the best clothes.’ Pauline studied the house as if imagining children running about the place wearing matching sailor outfits in the perfect shade of blue.
Cherry swallowed hard.Deep breath, deep breath. It’s a small town, and this comes with the territory. In the grand scheme of things, it’s low-level stuff.
Pauline wouldn’t have known the inherent presumption in what she was saying. To her, it was a throwaway comment – Cherry and Sean were a married couple, so the next stop on the journey must be children. Fortunately, as Cherry was pinning a rictus smile to her face, Sean caught the comment like a baseball out of left field.
‘Absolutely,’ he said to Pauline. ‘Ifwe have them, they will look great.’
It was only a small rejoinder – an emphasis on theif,but Pauline noticed, and Cherry wanted to hug Sean into next week for what he’d done. She tucked her hand into his waist to let him know how much his words meant.
Doubtless, it wouldn’t be the last time this would happen. This was a reminder of how small this place was, how traditional the ideas of roles were, and it gave a little hint of what village life might be like when her colours didn’t match the season of her life. But with Sean by her side, she could try her best to manage.
The day before the poker tournament – the following Friday – Cherry awoke around eight a.m.. She opened thecurtains and sat on the side of the bed, checking her phone. There was a message from Campbell.
CAMPBELL: Psyched for the tourney, Chez. I’m staying at Jamie’s house with Connor. Let’s do that coffee today. I’ve got a proposition for you.
There was no getting out of this. Campbell’s presence was a boon for the tournament, and what harm could a coffee do? She would admit to being both trepidatious and curious about the proposition.
She hit back a reply, arranging to meet him at a local café. Best to keep these things out in the open. She would tell Sean later.
Exhaling and putting the phone aside, Cherry settled her eyes on the photo on the bedside table. The larger version of the one in her locket.
‘Hey, Dad,’ she whispered, picking up the photo. ‘Good to see you. Hope you’re keeping busy in the big garden in the sky.’
Cherry’s focus shifted to her mother’s image: the curve of her smile, the glow of her cheeks, the light in her eyes. All the things she hadn’t seen in her locket picture because it was too small. My God, she didn’t think she had ever seen her mum as radiant as she was in this photo.
The frame was awful, though – clear plastic moulded and coloured to look like gemstones. She would have to get a new one. Turning it over, she unclasped the latches. But when the frame came off, Cherry saw therewas blurred but legible writing on the back of the photo. The familiarity of the words struck her.
A mother is not made by a footprint in the sand.
Love does not begin with a clasping of the hand.
I carried you inside me, your heart beating with mine.
