by Alex Brown
‘Oh I don’t know. Isn’t that worse though? Letting Edie think that Winnie ran off with a married man and had his baby, without so much as a backward glance or a postcard to her dear sister in all these years …’
‘Hmm, well, yes I guess so when you put it like that. Maybe best then to get it over with and say that Winnie died in London. And the paperwork, death certificate, got lost or something in the war. And there was no man or baby. And at least then Edie can take comfort from thinking her sister’s reputation was still intact … because let’s face it, Edie doesn’t have much longer herself, so if she dies happy and at peace with her missing sister then that’s a good thing, yes?’ Nancy offered.
‘Yes. I guess so.’ April nodded and then a few seconds later added, ‘But what I can’t figure out, and it’s been really bugging me, is, firstly, how come Winnie didn’t know that her brother Sidney had been killed in action? And what was Winnie even doing in London, when the FANY training centre was near Oxford?’
‘I’ve no idea! Having a naughty weekend with Finch?’ Nancy winked and nudged April in the side.
‘Stop it! You’re incorrigible.’ Both women laughed and drank more iced cider. ‘But I’m going to pass this name, Finch, on to the general.’
‘The general?’
‘Yes, he’s ex-army, retired, runs the weekly tea dance in the village hall. Bit of a historian,’ April explained.
‘Then it’s worth a go,’ Nancy nodded, pleased that her stepmum had the mystery of what happened to Winnie to occupy her thoughts; it was much more healthy than watching old videos of Dad in the dark. That had been horrendous, and many nights Nancy had just gone up to bed and left April to it, unable to bear seeing her like that. When Dad went, Nancy had dealt with it, it was hard of course. But it was pitiful, heartbreaking, seeing April so sad … Nancy swallowed hard and switched her thoughts. April seemed to be in a different place now, mentally and physically, and Nancy was glad that she had come to Tindledale to see it and that April had genuinely seemed pleased to have her here. Nancy had been worried about intruding – April was her stepmum after all, not her actual mum, and now with Dad gone, what was to say that April would carry on looking after her and Freddie? Nancy pondered momentarily, and then pulled herself together. April hadn’t abandoned her, far from it, she wasn’t like that, she was lovely and caring, so Nancy would need to keep that in mind – she vowed to try not to worry about it.
‘And if this general has army connections,’ Nancy said, focusing her mind back to Winnie’s diary, ‘then he might be able to find out who this Finch man was, if he was something to do with the army base that Winnie was driving for …’
‘Yes!’ April pulled out her notepad and wrote down ‘FINCH’, underlining it several times.
‘Now, changing the subject entirely, well not totally entirely, it is kind of similar …’ Nancy ventured tentatively, thinking now might be a good time to talk to April when she seemed so relaxed and happy. And Edie was still asleep, and snoring louder than ever.
‘Go on.’
‘Weell, talking of men!’ She lifted her eyebrows. ‘Tell me something – when are you going to go on a date with that oh-so-sexy, but slightly moody farrier?’
Matt had barely said a word when he dropped Bella off to go with April to the knit and natter session. Nancy thought it was a shame and wondered why the sudden change in his attitude towards her lovely stepmum, because anyone could see that he fancied her – Nancy didn’t miss a thing – and the spark between them was palpable. Bella had noticed it too and they had shared a conspiratorial grin or two, which was good. Nancy figured it wouldn’t hurt to have his daughter on side as well, as Nancy of all people knew what it was like when your dad met a new woman. Or maybe Matt felt awkward because Harvey had been here; he had dropped by on the pretext of seeing how things were going with the new roof, but as soon as Matt arrived, Harvey had acted as if he and April were an item, standing next to her, nodding in mutual agreement and all that … And Matt and Harvey were friends. Perhaps Matt didn’t want to make a move on April and tread on his mate’s toes. You’d think they would have spoken to each other about the new woman in Tindledale, thought Nancy, but then they were men and she knew exactly how inept they could be when it came to that kind of thing, she worked with them all day and sometimes all night long too. Hmm, well if that was the case, then Nancy knew she would have to come up with a plan! She really wanted April to be happy, and if she could help make her so, then it was the least she could do after all the love and care April had shown Dad. And Orchard Cottage was such a nice place to be, Nancy loved how she felt here, relaxed and rested, and could really see April living here. And Tindledale wasn’t that far away, Nancy could always visit so it wasn’t like she was going to lose April from her life completely …
‘Pardon?’ April blinked.
‘You heard.’ Nancy smiled playfully, and the two women sat in silence for a while, interrupted only by the soft snores from Aunt Edie. ‘Oh come on, April, I can see that he fancies you, and that you’re attracted to him,’ Nancy broke the silence. ‘What’s stopping you? Is it Dad?’
‘Um, yes I suppose, and …’ April stopped talking. ‘You know, Harvey has asked me out …’
Nancy frowned. If her dad’s widow was going to go on a date with a new man, it certainly wasn’t going to be Harvey. Admittedly, she had only met him briefly, but she knew that her dad wouldn’t have liked him. Smarmy. That’s what Gray would have said. Whereas he would have liked Matt, she was sure of it … Matt seemed different, sensitive and sensible, she’d seen how he was with Darby and Joan, and caring and loyal – a single dad, just like her own had been when he first met April. Yes, Nancy thought Matt would be good for April.
‘Hmm, doesn’t surprise me!’
‘Why do you say it like that?’ April raised her eyebrows.
‘No reason,’ Nancy fibbed. ‘So what do you actually know about him?’
‘Weell,’ she started slowly, ‘he’s a fruit farmer …’
‘So not much then,’ Nancy stated.
‘And he sorted out the contract with the organic cider guy, Jimmy! Orchard Cottage would be uninhabitable if Harvey hadn’t helped out with that …’
‘You sound as if you’re validating him.’
‘Do I?’ April looked away. ‘Maybe I should go on a date with him – he has been good to me.’
‘APRIL!’
‘What?’
‘Stop it! You don’t owe him anything. Just because he helped you out …’ Nancy shook her head and sighed. April was far too nice for her own good sometimes. Putting others’ feelings ahead of her own, wanting to keep everyone happy – she figured that was why she had fussed over Freddie for all these years, doing his washing and all that. And the thing was, he had managed absolutely fine while April had been in Tindledale.
‘Yes, you’re right, darling. What am I thinking?’ April grinned sheepishly. ‘Anyway, I’m not sure I’m ready …’
The implication of April’s words hung in the air. And then Nancy got it. The look on April’s face. She was anxious. Apprehensive.
‘Are you worried that I’ll be upset or something? If you go out with another man?’
April gave Nancy a look that said it all.
And Nancy took April’s hand in hers.
‘Listen,’ she started softly, ‘I can see that you’re happy here. You could make a new life for yourself … Matt is lovely, any man that can whisper to horses like that gets a big thumbs up in my book. Why don’t you give him a go?’ Nancy said, putting her own feelings aside. At the end of the day, she was a grown-up, and if April moved on with a new man it wasn’t as if she would up sticks and be off to New Zealand like her mum. No. Nancy took a deep breath and put a smile on her face.
‘But—’ April went to protest.
‘Shuuuuuush.’ Nancy leant in and gave April a big hug. And her blessing too – knowing that she absolutely needed it. After taking a deep breath, she added, ‘Dad woul
d be happy for you to make a new life with somebody else. You mustn’t feel guilty about that!’ She let April go, and that’s when she saw the tears.
At last. The dam!
It had finally burst.
Nancy had known it would come. She quickly pulled April back into her and held her tight as she cried a torrent of tears, mingled with enormous, heaving sobs that racked her whole body.
It was Saturday, and April smiled as she wandered through the back orchard towards the gypsy wagon. Cabbage white butterflies fluttered along the tops of the hedgerow as buttercups bowed in the balmy breeze, making her feel blissfully calm. Tranquil. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her yesterday when she had finally risen and crossed over the last peak on that rollercoaster of grief. And it was all thanks to Nancy. Her twenty-two-year-old stepdaughter, who certainly was wise beyond her years. Of course, April knew that there would be moments of sadness still – she’d always miss Gray, and wish he was here with her, enjoying the rest of his life as he should have been – but something had definitely shifted, and she was grateful for that.
After Edie had gone to bed last night, April and Nancy had sat up into the early hours. Outside by the barn in the balmy night air, with a flotilla of citronella tea lights in a Pyrex pie dish full of water on the upturned apple crate to keep the mosquitos at bay, they had sipped more iced cider, read through more of Winnie’s diaries and talked about Gray. How they both really felt about him leaving them prematurely. And they hadn’t actually done that until now. Nancy explained how she had coped, put on a brave face, got on with it and tried not to worry about April … but had an underlying fear that she and Freddie would lose April too, which was part of the reason she had come to Tindledale. April figured everyone grieved in different ways. But then Nancy had pointed out that it seemed to her like April had done exactly the same – put all her energy and emotions into caring for Gray, then Freddie, and now her great aunt. And April agreed: it was easier, a way of getting on with it too, of protecting herself, and probably why she hadn’t cried, not properly. Not in front of anyone. And they had both come to the realisation too that they’d worried about each other when they should probably have concentrated on themselves more, but at least they had come together now, and had each other to remember Gray – to talk about him, laugh about him, share mutual memories, something they couldn’t do with anyone else. Like the time in a posh restaurant when Gray had shaken the balsamic vinegar bottle so vigorously that the lid popped off and an arc of black sticky liquid had sprayed up in the air before splatting him all over the head, and they had all laughed until they clutched their sides and cried happy tears. It was a miracle they hadn’t been thrown out! Those were the funny anecdotes that Nancy and April would treasure for ever. And Freddie too. April had called him several times since coming to Tindledale and he did seem OK, and had started to talk to her about Gray, recalling some anecdotes of his own. And as long as they all did that, then Gray would always be with them, it would only be when they were all long gone that he would be too. That was the true essence of eternal life … living on in other people’s memories.
But last night, there had been lots of tears, for both of them, and a fair amount of poignant laughter too as they remembered those good times. And things were definitely different now – April thought she might like to stay on in Tindledale for a good while longer. Nancy had said she was fine with it after April had categorically assured her that she wasn’t about to lose her, she was her stepmother, regardless of whether Gray was here or not, and that would never change. And April could hardly leave her aunt to fend for herself. She had mooted the idea of taking Edie back to Basingstoke with her, but Tindledale was her home, it wouldn’t be fair to do that, and besides, Nancy had said it might be time to see about selling the bungalow – perhaps! April wasn’t sure about that yet, all her memories with Gray were there. She figured she would need to at least go back to see how she felt, see if it was possible. Even though she felt Gray’s presence with her wherever she was, but still … his things, his shirts hanging in the wardrobe, all the physical stuff was there.
April stepped up and over the stile, curious to see how Bella was getting on with the yarnbombing. Since joining Taylor’s knit and natter group, she too seemed to have turned a corner and was going to school every day now the new term had started, having made a couple of new friends from the group in the year above, who looked out for her – they had talked about it all during their knitting sessions in the wagon, which seemed to have turned into a regular event too. April hoisted her knitting bag up further on to her shoulder – the last time she went to Hettie’s House of Haberdashery, she had treated herself to a new blue polka-dot knitting bag with loads of useful pockets for needles and yarn and all kinds of crafting paraphernalia. Hettie had been delighted too, when she saw her at the till. April couldn’t thank the elderly woman enough for enabling her to face her fear and knit again that day in the little kitchen-cum-sitting-room at the back of the shop.
She stopped and pulled out a plastic bottle of water that was in the pocket at the end of the bag under her arm, and took several swigs. It was sweltering today, the hottest September on record, apparently. That’s what the weather woman had said on the radio this morning when Edie, Nancy and April had been enjoying big bowls of Greek yogurt with porridge oats and Edie’s phenomenally good apple sauce drizzled all over it. It had been too hot even at that time of the morning to have their usual eggs and soldiers, so they had taken breakfast outside and sat in the deckchairs with Darby and Joan in the barn. Edie had taken some convincing to try the yogurt, but now that she had, she had thoroughly enjoyed it too – which reminded April, she had promised to pick some pears to poach for their pudding tonight. It was Aunt Edie’s favourite, with chocolate sauce drizzled all over the top.
After stowing the water bottle back into her bag, April wandered through into the next row of fruit trees in search of the best pears. Ahh, here they were, round and russet red. She picked six of the best and loaded them into an old carrier bag that she had taken to keeping in her pocket at all times, figuring it best to always be prepared for a foraging opportunity. Aunt Edie’s garden and the surrounding fields were full of all kinds of produce and wild flowers. Only a few days ago, April had taken herself off for a wander through the woodland area, dappled with sunlight, with a stream running right through it that had been deliciously shaded and refreshing in the sizzling heat of summer, and came across a glorious array of wild flowers. Purple, pink and white, they had smelt heavenly and she had wondered if that was where Winnie had walked all those years ago with the mysterious man, known as Finch. Of course, it was too late for violets to bloom, but April had every intention of returning in early spring to see if she could find one to press just as Winnie had – and Finch was right, they were hardy little heart-shaped flowers capable of making it through a harsh, icy winter to bloom, heralding new beginnings. April may not be able to unravel the secret to her other great aunt’s disappearance, but at least she could forge a connection to her in some other way.
April reached the gypsy wagon and was impressed to see that Bella had added two strings of jaunty bunting; hooked to the middle of the arched entrance, they cascaded outwards and were secured on two poles, creating a kind of aisled walkway. A welcome breeze made the fabric triangles flutter invitingly as April made her way to the little row of wooden steps.
‘Only me, Bella. Come to see how the knitting is going. Thought I’d join you for the afternoon …’ April pushed a hand through the floaty white muslin curtains that Bella had also hung up, and went inside. And stopped. Bella wasn’t there. Instead, on the fabric-covered bench seat where she would normally be sitting, cross-legged and knitting away while she waited for April to join in, was a large wicker picnic hamper with two crystal champagne flutes nestled next to it.
April checked her watch. One p.m. Well, that was right. Bella had popped a note into the mailbox nailed to the post at the end of the lane to as
k if it was OK. April had found it when she went to collect the post shortly after nine, which was when Dave, the postman, usually called by. So where was she? And more to the point, why was there a picnic here? And a very impressive one, by the looks of it … April lifted the lid of the hamper and peeped inside. Wow! It had silver cutlery and proper china plates secured in navy criss-crossed elastic inside the lid with an amazing selection of food packed in special ice packs – pâté in a glass jar next to a selection of cheeses all individually wrapped. A meat platter. Bread rolls. Strawberries, chocolate truffles and a bottle of finest champagne. How bizarre. April closed the lid.
Figuring Bella would turn up soon enough to explain – she’d probably been waylaid on the way with checking on Darby and Joan, for she visited them daily now and always with a fresh bag full of grated carrot, which she fed to them by hand – April decided to get on with her knitting. She had managed to start a selection of simple squares, nothing fancy, not a garment for anyone with an emotion attached, as had been the case with that chunky Aran jumper for Gray. No, just plain squares to stitch on to the yarnbombed cover over the roof of the wagon.
Settling down on the seat opposite, April had just retrieved her needles from the cavernous bag when she heard a swooshing sound, footsteps through the long grass coming towards the wagon. Ahh, that’ll be her now. April stood up and popped her head outside through the curtains.
‘Oh!’ She did a double take. Harvey was standing square in front of her with an extremely cheeky grin on his face.
‘Ahh, so this is where you’re hiding …’ He put his hands on his hips and puffed himself up a little.
‘Er, not hiding exact—’ But before she could finish her sentence, he came up the wooden steps and into the wagon.
‘Bloody hot one today, isn’t it?’ he said, more as a statement than an actual question.
‘Um, yes. Yes it is,’ April said, feeling awkward. Since her heart-to-heart with Nancy last night, she had decided not to go on a date with Harvey after all, and had planned on letting him know later. It wasn’t right to lead him on, not when it was true, what Nancy had spotted from the off … there was a spark between her and Matt. It may come to nothing, but she’d never know if she didn’t at least give it consideration.