A Jarful of Moondreams: What Secrets Are Ready to Spill Out?
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She was going to text Will and ask him to call into High Rigg tomorrow but there’d be no party after all. So much for him meeting her for once when there wasn’t a crisis.
46
Two weeks passed and Cleo came to accept losing her grandfather almost as soon as she had found him, but her sorrow still felt raw. She had taken time off work to grieve and help her Mum to arrange the funeral; Teflon just had to manage without her. Three months ago she would never have thought of doing that.
She’d moved Grandad’s bowling bag from the boot and it was lying in the corner of her room. It had been a surprise to find that it wasn’t just his bowls that were in there. Under his cap, there nestled a bundle of envelopes. All were addressed ‘To Margaret’ and she realised that these were the birthday messages he had wanted her to look after. He must have intended leaving them in her keeping that Thursday.
She handed the bundle straight over to Mum. Cleo would have read them straight away but her mum put them away saying that she would read them, when the time felt right.
Now, on the day of the funeral, lying in her bedroom she thought of how some things, like her love for her job, were still the same yet she had changed so much. She’d learned a lot this summer and she felt as though there was more to her; she was more substantial, more herself.
Was that thanks to her mum for taking a risk in leaving her with Alex? Or, was it due to Alex and Dan bringing out the best, and worst, in her? All of her ups and downs had made her face who she was and appreciate what she had. Maybe it was because she knew more about where she had come from.
The brief time with her grandfather had been bittersweet. She held onto her memory of him saying that he was proud of her, that he saw something of himself in her. Now she had to make the best of whatever lay ahead.
Would she arrange to meet up with her father again? Who knew? Would she marry and have children with Dan? Yes, she was certain of that. Now that Mum was home, her one moondream wish was to live her life happily, with Dan.
Time had flown by once Teri arrived back home. She had caught up with her girls, taken Greg around Northumberland and helped to arrange her father’s funeral. With Greg by her side, she’d faced up to her hospital consultation too.
Mr. Amonkar had looked so grave when she walked into the consulting room. He explained that she had both osteopenia and osteoarthritis in her hips. The arthritis was giving her the pain and stiffness but she needed medication for the osteopenia.
‘Is that it?’ Teri asked him and he looked perplexed.
‘It’s quite enough to contend with. We can treat you with medication and diet but, unfortunately, you may be a candidate for a hip replacement in the future.’
Teri beamed, ‘That’s fine as long as I have a future, Mr. Amonkar.’
She could live with her aches if they weren’t life threatening.
It was wonderful having Greg with her during these difficult times and oh how she’d miss him when he flew off to Turkey. He was going over there on an archaeological dig next week but he was coming back to her for Christmas.
Teri felt calm as she got into the funeral car that would carry her to St. Michael’s in Elswick. She had her family and friends with her and she was ready to face any folk that would be in the church. She was aware that people she hadn’t seen for over thirty years would have read about Bobby Donaldson’s death in the Evening Chronicle obituaries column but, as he was eighty-nine, there couldn’t be that many friends left to attend.
Sunny Court contacted all of Dad’s regular visitors and Teri arranged a decent spread with money behind the bar at a pub near to Dad’s bowling club for afterwards; Dad would have expected that. She hoped that some of his friends from the club would come to the service, because St. Michael’s was a big old church to fill.
She opted for a white coat and a black pill box hat and shoes because they were the magpie colours of Newcastle football club, Dad’s team. There was only one thing making her apprehensive but she was ready for it, if it happened.
She had her eyes closed as the car hummed along behind the hearse and was deep in thought when she heard a gasp from Cleo and a cry of, ‘OMG!’ from Alex.
Teri’s eyes shot open and she caught her breath as she saw the crowd at the gates of the church. Their car crawled through the gates after the hearse and the crowd followed them. They were here for her dad. As she got out of the car, she heard,
‘Bobby’s had a great turn out, mind.’
‘He has at that. There was nearly as many folk waiting at the gates for him as there was for Declan Donnelly’s wedding this August.’
‘He’s got the weather for it n’all. It’s warm for October.’
‘The sun always shines on the good’uns, that’s what I say.’
Teri smiled; it felt so good to be among kind people who liked her dad.
It took a while to shake hands and share a few words with everyone leaving the church after a wonderful service. There were the bowling club ‘boys’, his gardening club, staff and residents of Sunny Court, Lottie Fletcher’s extended family, churchgoers who’d known her dad and then every shop, pub and café in the neighbourhood seemed to have given someone time off to see Bobby Donaldson on his way.
Everyone looked at the flowers outside the church and then walked over to the pub, with Lottie Fletcher’s family leading the way. Only immediate family were going to be at the burial.
The churchyard cleared and that was when Teri saw her, the woman who she couldn’t call mother, standing by a tree near the newly dug grave. Although she had been armed for this moment, Teri trembled as, for the first time, she drew down the lace veil on her pill box hat so that it covered her face. Looking straight ahead, she strode past her foe without even a glance.
After the burial, Teri stood by the grave alone. Greg, Dan, Alex and Cleo wandered back to the car to wait for her there. As she sensed footsteps approaching, a cold sweat caused her to shiver.
‘Trust you to turn up in white for a funeral and make a show of yourself.’ The voice hadn’t changed or faded with age. ‘So you saw him, before he died, I take it?’
Cleo turned around and stared into the cold, hard eyes of her nightmares. Her veil hid her own face and gave her some protection from the bitter stare.
‘Say whatever poison you’ve got to say. You can’t hurt Dad or me now.’
‘Oh, can’t I? Well, understand this, I’ll be contesting his will because we were still married. We never divorced. It should still be me who is next of kin.’
Teri walked past her without answering.
She’d been at the reading of her Dad’s will earlier in the week and, quite rightly, he had left what little money he had to Lottie Fletcher’s family with donations going to a couple of charities. Lottie had been generous and left her house to him and, in turn, he had left his small estate to her relatives. Teri would never have contested Dad’s wishes and she would make sure that nobody else fought against them. She’d have to get her solicitor, George Moore, on the case to help the Fletchers. Lizzie Donaldson had turned into a bitter old crone.
Teri was pleased that they had catered generously because everybody had stayed to eat, drink and remember Bobby. With the addition of a bunch of non-churchgoers who had by-passed the service but come along to the pub to celebrate his life, the room was packed.
Hours later, when the family set off for Dunleith, Bobby’s farewell party was still in full swing.
Teri felt at peace. She may have said goodbye to her dad but she sensed he was with her and he still had things to tell her. It made her content just to know that he had never given up on her. She had his bundle of letters, one for every birthday, waiting to be read. She could not open them yet, but, one day she would be ready.
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You can meet up with some of the characters again in The Barn of Buried Dreams. Cleo’s friend Heather, Heather’s younger sister Erin and Jackson McGee, a hands
ome Texan who has business interests in Dunleith take centre stage but the Moon family and other Dunleith characters make an appearance.
THE BARN OF BURIED DREAMS
isn’t it time they saw daylight?
Two sisters are struggling. Losing their mother has left a huge hole in their lives.
Erin, who left behind a blossoming stage career, has buried herself and her dreams away in Magpie’s Rest, the family home.
Heather is running on wine as she juggles children, work and marriage. She is unaware that she is suffering from post natal depression but she does know that she has lost sight of the woman she liked to be.
As Erin and Heather face rocky relationships, betrayal, mistakes and heartache, they learn a lot about love.
Can a letter from the past help them to rescue their buried dreams?
Available October 2018
About the Author
Chrissie lives in the North East of England on a beautiful stretch of coastline not far from the city of Newcastle with her husband and their Welsh terror of a terrier, Oscar.
An Oscar like terrier makes an appearance in her second novel, The Barn of Buried Dreams. Bracken is much better behaved!
Pharos the cat, in A Jarful of Moondreams, is based upon Chrissie’s beloved Egyptian Mau who was also called Pharos. All her human characters are entirely fictitious!
She is a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association and was delighted to win their Elizabeth Goudge Trophy in 2016.
When she is not writing, Chrissie enjoys chatting to readers and writers on social media.
Email Chrissie on chrissiebradshaw@hotmail.co.uk to join her email list and receive updates and offers.
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You’ll find her on twitter @ChrissieBeee
Her website is www.newhenontheblog.com where she reviews books and writes a monthly blog.