by Alex Brown
‘Oh, um, why?’ April wished her cheeks would stop burning.
‘Because I’m going to get on top of it and take a look at what is going on outside that bloody great big gaping hole that’s right above it.’ Matt unclipped his tool belt and slung it on the bed. ‘And the wardrobe looks pretty old and rickety to me so the chances are that it might collapse … Better that than the roof caving in completely though,’ he shrugged. ‘I might be able to secure it for now – lash that old rug over the hole perhaps,’ he finished, eyeing up the old threadbare rug beside the wardrobe.
‘But you might get hurt. If the wardrobe collapses,’ April said, sneaking a sideways glance at him. Matt gave her a look as if to say, ‘Don’t be daft.’
‘Dad does stuff like this all the time, April,’ Bella said, bobbing from one foot to the other.
‘If you’re sure …’ April took a deep breath and instantly regretted it when she got a mouthful of dust which then caught in her throat and made her splutter and cough.
‘Go downstairs please, Bella,’ Matt instructed. ‘It’s not safe here for you.’
‘But I want to stay and watch.’
‘Please love, just do it!’ Matt said, sounding impatient. ‘I don’t want to argue, not now.’ He held up a palm in protest.
‘But what if April is right and you get hurt?’
‘I’ll be fine.’ But Bella wasn’t budging.
‘Why can’t I stay?’
‘Like I said, it’s not safe, now go!’
‘But it’s not fair,’ Bella kept on, kicking her Converse against the skirting board now like a typical petulant thirteen year old. Matt inhaled and let out a long breath of exasperation.
‘It’s OK, sweetheart. Your dad will be all right, he knows what to do,’ April intervened, hoping to defuse the tension and appease Bella, but not be seen as interfering, and she could see that Matt was getting worked up, like any parent used to doing battle on a minute-by-minute basis with their teenage child. Gray had been the same when the twins were teenagers, his fuse wore very thin very quickly, from the constant eroding of his patience. ‘And I’d really appreciate it if you could go and help Nancy look after Edie – my aunt likes you, I think she trusts you because you’re very kind to her.’ April smiled, hopefully.
‘Sure.’ And Bella couldn’t wait to dash off downstairs.
‘How do you do that?’ Matt asked incredulously, shaking his head after Bella had left the room.
‘Um, I’m not really sure …’ April shrugged, just pleased it had worked without Bella getting too upset, figuring she had enough to contend with at school.
Moments later, Matt put one foot up on the window-sill and used it to push his body up high enough to grab the top of the wardrobe, and then in one swift movement he was kneeling with his head and shoulders outside the hole in the ceiling. April folded her arms and paced around as she waited for his verdict.
‘It’s pretty bad, I’m afraid,’ Matt said, as he brought his head and shoulders back into the room and carefully lifted himself down from the wardrobe. ‘I can secure it for tonight, lash a makeshift cover over as a temporary measure,’ he said, gesturing up to the hole, ‘but it’s going to need a thatcher to sort it out properly, the straw roof looks really old.’ He shook his head. ‘Sorry to be the bearer of bad news …’
‘Oh it’s not your fault … and thank you for taking a look,’ April said, busying herself by making a start on picking up the bigger bits of debris. Anything to avoid him catching her inadvertently staring at his magnificent body, especially as he was using the front of his T-shirt now to wipe his hot face, exposing his perfectly taut abdomen.
‘No problem.’ He picked up his tool belt. ‘And thanks …’ he said as he went to leave the room.
‘What for?’
‘Well, you know … with Bella just now, and in the orchard too. Don’t know what you said to her but whatever it was worked, ’cos she opened up to you, I had no idea what was going on. All that stuff at school. I should have known …’ His head dropped slightly.
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. I listened, that’s all … And you know how it is, it’s much easier to talk to a stranger than to your own dad at that age.’
‘I guess so,’ Matt said, fiddling with his belt buckle. ‘It’s tough this parenting lark sometimes.’ Silence followed.
‘Yes it is,’ April nodded. ‘But you seem like a good dad to me. You love her, and you care … and she’s a lovely, kind girl. You know, she really cares about those horses and she has a real creative talent – she’s transformed the gypsy wagon single-handedly. She’s a credit to you. And she’s welcome here any time, I quite enjoy her company to be honest and I’m looking forward to taking her to the knitting group,’ April said, and it was true, having someone to go with would make it easier for the both of them.
‘Cheers,’ Matt said. ‘And I do try to be a good dad. But it’s hard when she won’t do as she’s told … I worry about her. You know, I found a bottle of cheap wine … she’d been drinking. But if I tell her off about it, she’ll go ballistic, that’s what normally happens, but I can’t just ignore it, she’s only thirteen. It’s illegal for Christ’s sake.’
‘Well, I guess nobody likes being told what to do. Maybe try asking her, and then help her make the right choices, explain the effects of alcohol … the dangers, and then you can guide her instead of telling her. It could backfire if you come down hard on her. She might rebel …’ April smiled, finally managing to make proper eye contact.
‘True. And that’s the last thing I want.’ Matt folded his arms. ‘She has enough to deal with at school without me giving her a hard time!’ He shook his head. ‘Thanks, April. And your girl seems to have turned out fine, sensible. She was totally calm downstairs when Bella came shrieking for me to come into the cottage, so you must have done something right.’
‘Thanks, but I can’t take any credit, she’s my stepdaughter.’
‘Ahh, I see.’ More silence followed. ‘So, er … is your husband not here with you then?’ he said, averting his eyes. April dipped her head.
‘No.’ April took a breath and then lifted her head to look directly at Matt. ‘No. He passed away.’ And this time she felt all right saying it.
‘Blimey! Sorry. Um, I’m really sorry,’ Matt said, his voice softening. ‘What happened? God, sorry, it’s none of my business.’ He shook his head in apology.
April opened her mouth to reply, but was saved from doing so when a floorboard gave way underneath Matt’s foot. April instinctively flung herself forward to help him, but missed his hand, and her fingertips ended up brushing his bare abdomen instead. She immediately leapt back and apologised profusely.
‘Christ!’ Matt looked startled as he tumbled backwards and his left hand touched the edge of the rug on the floor. ‘We need to get out of here. This cottage is falling apart!’ He yanked his boot-clad foot free and went to walk out of the attic bedroom, giving the offending floorboard behind him a filthy glare. He stopped. ‘What’s that?’
‘What?’ April looked to where Matt was pointing.
‘There! I can see something right there under that floorboard. In the gap where my foot was. Here, help me shove the rug out of the way.’
After rolling the rug up and lifting the broken floorboard, plus the one next to it, which was rotten right through and almost crumbled away in their hands, they saw what looked like a small wooden box partially wrapped in a dusty old hessian sack. April gingerly reached in and lifted the parcel free. Inside the sack was an old apple box containing a number of hardback books, ledgers perhaps. She placed the box on the bed and picked up one of the books. After opening the front cover, April spluttered as a cloud of dust puffed up right under her nostrils. Carefully wiping the first page with the back of her hand, her pulse quickened as she saw the following words written in faint black ink.
Winnie Lovell
Secret Diary
Age 10 & ¾
1930
Friday afternoon, and Dr Ben had just arrived. April opened the door and, after shaking hands and saying hello, she ushered him into the hallway, apprehensive about how Aunt Edie was going to react, given her mistrust of doctors and modern medicine.
‘I did explain that you were coming today, but my aunt’s memory isn’t what it used to be, doctor. She’s in the sitting room, if you want to go through – I’ll wait in the kitchen. Would you like a cup of tea, or a glass of water perhaps?’ April said, conscious that she was talking too much and too fast, but it felt a little strange, calling the GP out to her elderly aunt, almost as if Edie were a child and she was the parent.
‘A glass of water would be grand,’ Dr Ben said, in a lovely lilting Irish accent as he bumped the front of his head on a low beam and nearly knocked off his black-framed glasses.
‘Oh gosh, are you OK?’ April quickly took a step forward, ready to assist if required.
‘Yes, thanks. No damage done, happens all the time,’ he grinned, shaking his head and pushing his glasses further up his nose. ‘You’d think I’d be used to the low ceilings in these Tindledale cottages on my home visits by now …’ And he turned towards the sitting-room door. ‘I have all Miss Lovell’s notes here, including details of the call you put in to the surgery when you made the appointment,’ he reassured, patting the folder, ‘so if you introduce me first, please, and then we can see if your aunt would like you to be present during my examination – it may make her feel more at ease?’ Dr Ben suggested, lifting his eyebrows.
‘Sure.’ April smiled, starting to relax. Dr Ben was much younger than she had imagined a village doctor would be, and seemed far more down to earth than the serious, white-coated doctors in the hospitals that she had worked with as a nurse. He was wearing jeans and trainers and an open-neck shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Things sure were different out here in the countryside, far more relaxed, and she liked it.
‘Oops.’ Dr Ben went to push his car keys into his jeans pocket, but ended up dropping them on the carpet instead as he juggled a big medical bag and a paper file full of notes. April dipped down to retrieve the keys and saw a picture of Sybs from the haberdashery shop on the key ring as she handed them back to him.
‘Ahh, I met Sybs in Hettie’s House of Haberdashery … I didn’t know you two …’ April smiled, and let her voice trail off, not wanting him to think she was being nosey.
‘Yes, my wife, she runs the shop,’ Dr Ben nodded and smiled. ‘And our gorgeous twin girls, Florence and Hen-rietta,’ he added proudly, taking the key ring and turning it over to show April a picture of two curly-haired cuties.
‘Oh, they’re adorable. Twins are very special – I have grown-up twin stepchildren,’ April smiled, starting to relax. ‘A boy and a girl.’
‘Then I’ll be sure to come to you for advice when my wee Flo and Hettie start growing up,’ he said, kindly and politely.
Having seen Dr Ben into the sitting room and reminding her aunt who he was and why he was here, Aunt Edie seemed quite happy to chat away and let the doctor carry out his examination, so April popped out to the kitchen to get him a glass of water.
‘How’s it going?’ Nancy asked, looking up from the kitchen table where she was sitting peeling potatoes for this evening’s dinner.
‘Good, I think.’ April glanced at the hatch to make sure it was closed, giving Edie and Dr Ben some privacy. ‘Aunty seems pretty chirpy … she’s answering lots of questions – what year is it, who the prime minister is, et cetera,’ she whispered, letting the tap run to ensure the water was nice and cold for the doctor. It was a scorcher of a day and April wondered if he had a long list of home visits spanning an enormous rural area to get through, as was often the case for country GPs. ‘That’s not to say that she’ll be getting all the answers right, but at least Dr Ben can let me know what her needs are.’
‘Exactly,’ Nancy said, ‘and don’t forget to ask about the thyroid thing. You know, I saw her tipping a bottle of tablets out into the kitchen bin earlier.’
‘Really?’ April filled the glass, turned off the tap and turned to look squarely at her stepdaughter.
‘Yep.’ Nancy nodded, looking concerned.
‘Well, we can’t have that, if she needs to be taking them. Thanks for mentioning it, love.’ And April went back into the sitting room, keen to hear Dr Ben’s diagnosis.
*
Later, having left her aunt in the capable care of Nancy – they were playing rummy and enjoying a snowball together after having an early dinner – April parked the Beetle outside Hettie’s House of Haberdashery. She turned to Bella who was sitting beside her, looking petrified as she clutched the handles of her knitting bag that was perched on top of her thighs.
‘Are you ready to do some knitting?’ April asked, feeling nervous too, but she managed a big smile for Bella, knowing she couldn’t back out now, even though it would be so very easy to do so. April inhaled and placed her hand on Bella’s arm. ‘Come on, it’ll be fine. Let’s do this together.’ And Bella nodded as they got out of the car.
‘You’re going to stay with me, aren’t you?’ Bella then asked apprehensively.
‘Of course. I’m looking forward to doing some knitting too,’ April half-fibbed, stowing the car keys in her handbag. It was true that she was keen to see what the club was like for Bella, and if she could resume her love for knitting, and banish the bad thoughts, the negative association that had developed inside her head ever since Gray had died. The unfinished Aran jumper. The sitting together watching TV, while she knitted and he joked about the chunky needles. It was fear, all this stalling, April knew that. She was worried the memories that knitting evoked would be too painful to revisit. But then there was only one way to find out.
After looping her arm through Bella’s, they walked together down the little path and up to the door that jangled to the sound of the old-fashioned, but cosily comforting bell as they pushed it open and went inside.
‘Come in, come in. It’s so good to see you both. I’m Taylor.’ A girl with a bun on top of her head and silver hoop earrings jumped up from a yarnbombed, squishy sofa to greet them with a lovely, bubbly smile. ‘You must be Bella,’ Taylor grinned, eyeing Bella’s knitting bag. ‘Ooh, bag envy. Where did you get this from?’ she asked, touching the bag.
‘Um, er … I made it,’ Bella answered warily, and glanced at April for reassurance as if bracing herself for potential ridicule from the older girl. But she wasn’t at school now. April smiled and gave Bella a quick discreet wink.
‘Wow! I love it. Ever thought of making …’ Taylor paused and looked upward as if formulating a plan, ‘like loads of lovely knitting bags and selling them on Etsy? God, I love Etsy.’ Taylor fluttered her eyelids.
‘Me too,’ Bella said, grinning and seeming to warm up a bit now.
‘Cool. Come and meet the others.’ And Taylor took Bella over towards the rest of the young knitters. ‘Budge up, you lot, and let Bella sit down – look at her gorge knitting bag.’
April felt pleased as the group took it in turns to swoon over Bella’s bag, making her young friend feel so welcome. And the size of Bella’s smile was worth bringing her here for alone, she already looked relaxed and right at home as she took off her coat and got stuck in. The beauty of being thirteen, April mused inwardly! Adaptable, resilient, and she really wished she still had more of that armour herself. Maybe she was overthinking things, worrying too much. Perhaps if she just sat down and started knitting, didn’t let her mind wander back to those cosy nights in with Gray, then everything would be fine.
Still pondering, April spotted Hettie coming through a heavy brocade curtain over at the back of the shop, and went towards her.
‘Hello, my dear. Fancy a cup of tea?’ Hettie asked.
‘Oh, yes please, that would be lovely,’ April replied, relieved to have something else to occupy her while she waited for Bella. Perhaps she wouldn’t do any actual knitting tonight after all. Baby steps and all that … She was here, and it
felt like a good start …
‘Follow me. We can sit in the little kitchen-cum-sitting-room out the back and leave the young ones to it. When Molly dropped her boy off earlier for the knitting club, she said that you hadn’t done any knitting yourself for a while …’ Hettie fixed her Wedgwood-blue eyes on April as if scrutinising her to see if she could find out why.
‘Yes, well, um, no … that’s right,’ April started, hesitated, fiddled with her hair and fell silent for a moment, and then instead of getting anxious like she usually did in these situations, she came right out with it – ‘Not since my husband died’ – and felt much better for saying so. Hettie studied April for a moment, her papery face softening.
‘I’m sorry for your loss, dear, but you mustn’t let grief ruin the very things that will help you come to terms with your loss.’ Hettie patted her arm and April swallowed hard, determined not to let the well of emotion that was swirling inside her right now take over. ‘Come on, my eyesight isn’t what it used to be … you can help me by reading the pattern for a sweater that I’m making for my son, Gerry. I might even let you knit some of the second sleeve if I think your knitting skills are up to it!’ Hettie said firmly, as she held the curtain aside for April.
And before she had a chance to protest, let alone think about the wise old lady’s stoic instructions, April found herself hanging up her coat on a hook behind the door and then sitting in a patchwork armchair with a pair of size 9 needles in her hands, and the most exquisite section of soft grey cashmerino purl stitch dangling from them. There really was no time to worry about how this was going to make her feel, and besides, April reckoned that Hettie wouldn’t take no for an answer, so she just got on with it and pushed the right-hand needle down into the first stitch on the other side, wound the wool around … and she was knitting again! And the feeling that came over April as all the anxiety and fear that had built up inside her drifted away was utterly overwhelming in a wonderful, cathartic way.