by Penny Parkes
‘Okay then,’ said Grace. ‘You know this is progress, don’t you? Last time we spoke, you didn’t feel that way.’
Alice shook her head. ‘I didn’t admit to feeling that way,’ she corrected. ‘And last time, all I could think about was paying off my debts and giving up my things. This time, with the auction, I get to actually do something constructive.’ She grabbed the cashmere dress from Grace’s hands and hung it on the back of the door. ‘Every one of these we sell might make just enough difference between somebody living and dying, right?’
‘Right,’ said Grace. ‘But let’s still approach this in a way that makes you feel good. All the books say the same thing – focus on keeping what you love, rather than letting go. So—’
She stood up and with a momentary glance at Alice, she scooped everything out of the wardrobe and onto the bed, half covering the slumbering dogs. She pointedly picked up the four items that Alice had originally rescued and hung them on the empty rail.
‘I firmly believe that the fewer the things hanging on this rail, the more outfits you’ll have to wear – outfits you truly love and make you feel good – and you’ll actually be able to see them. More space, less guilt, and let’s ditch all the crappy memories while we’re at it.’
‘I don’t know if I can change that much,’ Alice said quietly.
‘Change is pretty black and white – you either have or you haven’t. It’s not a question of degree. And even doing this with me now is a change. You have to start somewhere, right?’
Alice breathed out slowly. ‘Does this mean I can never go shopping again?’
Grace shook her head. ‘Of course not. But let’s buy less and value more, okay? See this beautiful silk scarf with the hole in it? Let’s mend it and you can actually wear it. I think for you, a healthier goal would be to be more selective about what you actually buy. You have the most wonderful sense of style when you allow yourself free rein.’
‘Only buy something if I utterly adore it?’ Alice clarified.
‘And I’m not convinced that only applies to shopping,’ Grace smiled. ‘Why do anything that will make you unhappy, if you have the choice? Clothes, food, people . . .’
‘It’s all about the choices,’ Alice said slowly. Her eyes danced for a moment with the myriad of possibilities, lightening the doubt and insecurity. ‘Okay then, let’s start in here and see where it takes us.’
Chapter 40
‘Oh my goodness! Look at you!’ squealed Taffy’s mum in delight as she took in Holly’s decidedly rounded form. ‘You’re positively radiant!’ She chucked her bag in the hallway and marched through to envelop Holly in an enormous hug. ‘You have no idea how excited we’ve all been to come and visit. Like a whirlwind, it’s been.’
Holly, as always, was blown away by Patty’s affection. Being back at the house as a welcoming committee had definitely been the right thing to do, no matter how knackered she was after a day at work.
Taffy’s dad bustled in with a wave of grandchildren around his legs, carrying easily enough luggage for a fortnight’s stay. Predictably Aldwyn and Bobi were bickering outside about who deserved the solitary parking spot – both cars currently blocking the narrow road as bag after bag was unloaded, ferried inside by a procession of mini-Joneses. It was like an invasion, as the fridge door already hung open, tiny hands grasping for sustenance. Dylan was already raiding the snack cupboard and Holly would lay odds that those same cupboards would be bare by this time tomorrow.
Greeting everyone in turn and accepting their congratulations was one thing, but everyone also wanted to touch her bump to ‘introduce’ themselves to the latest recruit. By the time Taffy’s brothers and their children had all said hello, Holly was feeling like a much-loved pass-the-parcel.
‘Well, you’ve timed it perfectly,’ Holly said, tactfully wrapping her cardigan over her bump. ‘The Flower Festival starts tomorrow and you’ll wake up to see the town in full bloom. Absolutely the best time to see Larkford in all her glory.’
Patty frowned. ‘But there’s no flowers in the Market Place at all. I did wonder if our Aldwyn had got the dates wrong.’
Taffy stepped in, before Patty and Aldwyn could lapse into their infamous bickering. ‘Definitely tomorrow,’ he confirmed. ‘It’s rather sweet actually – a local tradition. There’s nothing to see at all and then the Flower Committee stay up all night and set up all the displays, the hanging baskets, the river floats – we all wake up and there it is!’
Patty clasped her hand to her ample bosom. ‘Well isn’t that just delightful – it’s like a fairy tale.’
Holly and Taffy exchanged glances. ‘If you mean there’s a darker backstory to it, then yes,’ Holly laughed. ‘Apparently they voted to introduce the overnight reveal because everyone got so competitive, the whole town ground to a halt in the lead-up.’
‘There was even talk of sabotage,’ Taffy said darkly, knowing only too well his mother’s fondness for a bit of intrigue. ‘Gladys Jones’s cousin lives in Framley,’ he said with heavy portent, as though that explained everything.
Dylan wandered over, already demolishing a family-sized bag of pretzels. ‘But we don’t have to stay up all night?’ he clarified, looking less than impressed. ‘Coz you know I like the flowers and all, but not that much!’
Holly grinned; in her imagination Dylan was becoming more and more like his namesake in The Magic Roundabout. ‘It’s not just about the flowers though, Dyl. The whole morning is like one big fiesta – breakfast pastries and local produce, a little local cider maybe—’
‘Well, now you’re talking,’ he said, turning to punch Taffy habitually on the arm. ‘Good to see your lady has her priorities right.’
‘She does,’ agreed Taffy. ‘And since you’re all here, we thought you might like to hear our news—’
‘Oh thank the Lord, you’ve set a wedding date!’ said Patty with feeling. ‘I didn’t like to nag, but with that babi on the way . . .’ Her words petered out as she clocked the awkward look between Holly and Taffy.
‘Actually,’ Taffy continued, ‘we wanted you to know something even more special.’ He paused, making sure that all his brothers were in hearing distance. ‘We’re having twins!’
The roars of excitement must have been heard on the other side of town. Holly quickly found herself swamped by hugs and kisses and, of course, another round of meet-the-new-recruits. There was enthusiasm, she thought happily, and then there was Jones-family enthusiasm – somewhere on a par with a springer spaniel being offered roast chicken for dinner. Even laid-back Dylan was practically bouncing.
‘This is bloody brilliant,’ said Aldwyn – normally the nominated pain-in-the-arse of all family gatherings. He gazed at Holly in awe. ‘You’re going to be huge,’ he told her, as though this was breaking news.
Holly just nodded cheerfully – she knew the form. Glancing out of the window, she saw that Ben and Tom had also taken the opportunity to share the news with the younger generation, as there was much squealing and merriment amongst the girls as well. As far as an impromptu celebration went, it didn’t get much better.
‘Tell them about the baby shower,’ Holly whispered to Taffy amongst the chaos.
‘Oh yes,’ Taffy said, raising his voice above the melee. ‘So we decided that, since you’re all here and the Festival is the perfect backdrop, we’re going to throw an early baby shower tomorrow afternoon. We’re going to take over Elsie’s garden and have a proper afternoon tea.’
Bobi let out a guffaw of laughter. ‘And you won’t need to shell out for any flowers, right, bro? Thrifty.’
Patty was mumbling something to her husband, flashing glances of concern in their direction.
‘Come on, Mum. You know you love a scone,’ Taffy said after the briefest hesitation.
Patty nodded and rallied. ‘Of course I do, my love. And I’ll even whip up some proper Welsh Cakes for the occasion.’ She glanced at her husband. ‘No news on the wedding front then?’
In the
end, it had taken quite a while to persuade Taffy’s family that their terraced cottage could no more cope with that many inhabitants than Holly could fit her ever-expanding bump into her longed-for slender lace wedding dress. The Jones clan were mostly mollified by the prospect of a party nevertheless, and Holly, Taffy and the twins had escaped to Elsie’s with only a shadow of fuss. Only the vague spectre of Patty’s disappointment still whispered in the air.
Stepping into Elsie’s townhouse after the short walk across town felt like stepping into a blissful oasis, compared to the crowded and boisterous chaos they’d left behind. A vase of pink roses and variegated foliage adorned the uncluttered hall table and somewhere a scented candle filled the air with white jasmine and mint.
‘Oh God,’ said Taffy under his breath. ‘When we move in here, we’re going to ruin it, aren’t we?’ He looked distinctly uncomfortable and Holly felt her burst of exuberance flag a little.
When she walked into Elsie’s house, it felt like home. Not because it was always immaculate, or because there were vases of fresh flowers instead of wilting, neglected orchids, but because there was a vibe of happiness and frivolity in the air that appealed to Holly on some deeply fundamental level. It was as though the house had a voice that cried, ‘Sure, life can be tricky and hard work too – but, hey, pull up a chair, let’s get you a drink and put some soothing tunes on the wireless!’
She shook her head slightly, wondering if the last twenty-four hours of rushed organisation had tipped her over into insanity. That feeling only intensified when the echoes of chiming glass and laughter drifted through from the conservatory. ‘Hellooo?’ she called, blushing slightly as they dumped Taffy’s kit in Elsie’s hallway in an unfortunate mirroring of what had so infuriated her at home earlier, swallowing the words ‘we’re home’ even as they came immediately to mind.
They wandered through into Elsie’s conservatory, Holly’s eyes widening in surprise as she took in the scene. So much for a quiet retreat.
‘Come and sit down!’ called Elsie. ‘We’re one drink ahead of you and plotting your party.’ Holly smiled as she took in the gaggle of women sitting around sipping cocktails: Lizzie, Grace and Alice had all clearly been roped in to help. ‘Well,’ shrugged Elsie guiltily, ‘you shouldn’t have to plan your own baby shower, now should you?’
Holly did as she was told and sat down, revelling in the comfort of her favourite rocking chair in the world. Apparently it was some Danish designer that Holly had never heard of and was probably worth a fortune, but none of that was important right now, compared to the warm feeling of contentment from having all her favourite people together in one place.
‘Well, this I could get used to,’ she sighed happily. ‘Taffs, do you want to join in and have your say? After all, this party is for everyone, not just the girls.’
Taffy frowned in thought for a moment, hovering uncertainly in the doorway.
‘You are okay with the baby shower idea though, Taffs?’ Holly asked, concern flitting across her face at his unusual reticence.
‘I honestly think it would make my mum’s week,’ he reassured her.
‘But what about you?’ she pressed. ‘Would you actually enjoy it?’
‘Any chance to celebrate with you, Holls, and you know I’m all in,’ he said, walking over and leaning in to kiss her. He held her gaze for a moment before letting her go and the smooth pendulum movement of the chair made her squeal. ‘I just – well, it won’t be too fancy-schmancy though?’ Taffy said. ‘I mean, there will be doughnuts too, yes? We have to think of the priorities here, Graham.’
‘Lots and lots of doughnuts . . .’ Holly agreed easily, once she’d rediscovered her centre of gravity. ‘Speaking of which, is it awful that I’m starving again?’
Taffy grinned. ‘And is this an ice-cream-starving or a banana-sandwich-starving?’ he checked, well accustomed of late to the vagaries of Holly’s appetite.
Holly frowned. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, wobbling for a moment. ‘Is it really weird to be wanting pickled onions and Marmite?’
‘Yes,’ said Elsie and Alice firmly in disgusted union.
‘I’ll join you,’ said Taffy easily, no snacking combination as yet too peculiar to put him off his food. ‘Womb service here we come,’ he joked, flinging a napkin over his arm.
Holly leaned back contentedly into the rocking chair and looked out across Elsie’s garden, watching the boys as they swung delightedly on the tyre swing that Brian, Elsie’s gardener, had installed as a surprise. There were flurries of butterflies darting around the buddleia and the summer evening was lightly perfumed by Elsie’s well-stocked flower garden. In short, it was paradise.
‘I should have moved you lot in months ago,’ sighed Elsie with feeling. ‘It’s just heaven hearing the house come alive. And look, that tree over there would be perfect for a rope swing too, wouldn’t it? Or even a treehouse?’
Taffy nodded his agreement, as he returned bearing Holly’s disgusting snack, cheerfully surrendering any downtime for the foreseeable future to yet another project to keep the twins entertained.
‘And of course,’ added Taffy with a grin, ’if you want the boys to really enjoy the baby shower, we could always rent a bouncy castle.’
Elsie, to her credit, barely flinched at the very notion of such a monstrosity adorning her beautifully manicured lawn. She was learning to relax around the cycle of constant motion that Ben and Tom created, but she clearly wasn’t there quite yet. ‘Well, let’s pop it on the list as a maybe,’ she suggested tactfully.
Taffy leaned down and kissed Holly on the top of her head. ‘I’m a little outmatched down here. Okay if I take the kit up and get things a bit sorted?’ Holly nodded, well used to Taffy code for please-God-don’t-make-me-stay. He dropped his voice to a whisper: ‘I might pop round and see Dan too, keep a weather eye out at The Kingsley Arms. If the Major and Richard le Grange start fighting about their dahlias and delphiniums again, it’ll be all hands on deck, especially if my brothers get involved!’
Holly was only too aware that Taffy and Dan hadn’t exactly enjoyed a lot of downtime together of late, although she wasn’t convinced that policing botanical barnies was the path to relaxation and enjoyment, however emotionally heated they might become. ‘Go to the pub, talk bollocks and put the world to rights,’ she suggested. ‘Stay out for a curry if you like?’
‘I knew I liked you for a reason,’ he said, kissing her lightly once more and making a break for it.
‘You’re looking a bit perkier,’ commented Elsie, as she took in Holly’s flushed complexion. ‘It’s a healing house, this. I told you it would do you the world of good.’
Holly didn’t like to say that, since they’d been there all of five minutes, it was unlikely to be the house that had wrought this noticeable change, but then who was she to judge?
As Lizzie and Grace argued over the best theme for the baby shower when Holly had given them no clue as to the sex of the babies, Holly couldn’t help thinking they were in for a long night. She absent-mindedly picked up Elsie’s Wedding Folder from the table beside her, all the research for Holly and Taffy’s abandoned Big Day neatly filed away. Holly wondered how long it would be before they dusted off the mothballs and had another go. Sometime after breastfeeding and fitting into clothes without elastic, she thought.
She flicked through the pages, some of them printed, some of them scrapbooked, all of them thoughtfully, sweetly, inherently ‘Holly’. She swallowed hard, barely taking in the excitable chatter around her. ‘We could use some of these ideas for the shower? Like the choux pastry buns, or the butterfly decorations – even the cocktails . . . Who knows what will be in vogue by the time I’ve hatched these two.’ She looked to Elsie for her support on this; if they used these ideas now, it would be back to square one for the wedding plans.
‘Let’s do it,’ cried Elsie in delight. ‘I can pull that together in a few short phone calls. And money’s no object, darling. I insist. I’ve never thrown a baby
shower before, but I find I’m rather taken with the whole idea – if we ignore the fact that it’s rather American.’
‘Well, let me cover the flowers at least,’ Lizzie insisted, completely confused when everyone jeered. As the penny slowly dropped, she grinned. ‘Maybe not the flowers exactly, but please let me contribute something. It’s almost a shame Eric’s illegitimate offspring won’t be around for the sheer cuteness factor; I’m dying to see what a miniature-beagle-labradoodle-cross might look like.’
‘Rather delightful, one imagines,’ Elsie opined. ‘I think I should quite like one of those. Seeing your darling dachshunds, Grace, rather got me thinking. They’re so divine, already devoted. And there’s no such thing as too much devotion, have you noticed? So maybe I should adopt Eric’s illegitimate offspring in my decline?’ She paused, her brow furrowing in thought. ‘But then, what if the puppy’s tiny and I sat on it accidentally? Nobody deserves to go like that. Maybe a wolfhound would be a better choice?’
Grace caught Holly’s eye and they both tried not to laugh; Elsie was well known for her fleeting obsessions. They could only hope this one would pass without incident.
‘And if we’re making this baby shower more official, I could help with putting together a gift list for the twins, so you don’t end up with twenty-seven romper suits?’ Alice suggested, attempting to bring them back on message. ‘Seriously, it would be quite rewarding to be shopping for somebody else,’ she countered, holding Grace’s concerned gaze with a reassuring smile.
Grace just nodded. ‘It’s going to be beautiful,’ she said. ‘Why not let me co-ordinate on the day so Elsie can relax and enjoy?’
Elsie settled back into her armchair, slender ankles crossed on a pouffe and a pitcher of low-alcohol margaritas within easy reach. ‘Then it’s a plan. It’s perfect. A little baby shower to celebrate Bert and Ernie—’