‘Not at all,’ Mum said, waving a hand dismissively. ‘You’ll be fine, Amelia. Teething problems, that’s all it is.’
‘If you say so. Anyway, back to these cakes. What are you planning on making?’
‘A hazelnut and carrot cake, and a classic Victoria sponge.’
‘Nice. Let’s get to work then.’
Mum and I tied on aprons and got together the ingredients for the two cakes in her kitchen – clear wooden worktops, a brand new oven and matching polka-dot crockery.
‘Did you have to do a lot of work to get the room like this?’ I asked.
‘No, It was like this when I moved in,’ Mum said. ‘I was lucky, I suppose – I think my time for big house renovations is probably over.’
‘You and Dad did a bit in back in the day, didn’t you?’
‘When I was pregnant with you we painted the flat – your dad was longing to knock down a wall but I persuaded him to wait until you were born before we did anything major. Couldn’t bear the thought of a flat full of plaster dust when you were still so young. Anyway, along you came and we never got round to any of that.’
‘Sorry,’ I said.
‘You were worth it,’ she said, smiling.
For a moment, working alongside each other, it felt as if we’d always done things like this, Mum arranging cooking equipment on the worktop as I perched on a stool. But it hadn’t always been like that. I watched as Mum began to measure out ingredients. I remembered the letter Dad had sent me, the week after he left. The words were embedded in my mind.
Dear Amelia,
I’m sorry I had to go, and that I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to you properly. Know that I love you, and that this wasn’t my choice.
When you were born my whole life changed – I held you in my hands and knew life would never be the same again. And it wasn’t. It was so much better. Me and your mum were so happy then. But people change, and we’ve grown apart. We both still love you – in our different ways.
I know your mum’s wanted to work for a while, but I’ll never understand how or why she could take a job that would always separate our family. I want us to be together, but I realized whatever I did, that wouldn’t happen when your mum was on a plane most of the time. That’s not what being a family is, in my mind. Sometimes I even wonder if she really wants to meet someone else – if we’re not enough for her.
I’ll be back to see you as soon as I can. I hope you are enjoying the doll’s house.
Love,
Dad x
‘Right. Now, where were we?’ Mum said, pushing her hair back from her face and tying it with a band. ‘Are you OK to grate the carrots?’
‘Sure,’ I said, getting down from the stool and opening the fridge.
*
In the early evening, when our baking was finished, Mum and I walked into Hazelton, and she led me inside the village hall, where women buzzed around stands and chattered over cakes. My stomach twisted, as if I were going into a really important interview rather than just meeting a few village locals. Hazelton was my home now, but I felt out of place. How was it that I could feel comfortable in front of a group of thirty teenagers, and yet now I felt vulnerable and shy?
‘Rosie!’ A woman my mum’s age, in a purple pashmina, was weaving her way over to us. ‘How are you?’ She gave my mum a hug before turning to me. ‘And you must be Amelia. I’m Rachel.’
I shook her hand and smiled. ‘Yes. Pleased to meet you.’
‘You look alike, you know. It’s the eyes – I’ve always wanted blue ones. Anyway, your mum’s told me lots about you. Ever so proud of you, she is.’
I glanced at my mum, wondering if that was true. She was busying herself getting our cakes out of her bag and placing them on the central table.
‘You’ve just moved in nearby, I hear. Brambledown Cottage?’ Rachel asked warmly.
‘Yes, that’s right. My husband Jack and I are doing it up.’
‘Oh – good luck with that. I do love a bit of home improvement.’
‘It’s slow going, but we’ll get there. Thought I’d have a break from it all at Mum’s this weekend. I’m still trying to find someone who can restore some of the original features, like the window frames; quite a few of them are rotted.’
‘Ah – I know just the person. You should meet my daughter Sally. She’s just bought her own place, and has run into a few hitches too. She’s over here …’
Rachel walked me to the small kitchen, where Sally was talking to some friends.
‘Sally, this is Amelia, Rosie’s daughter. She’s just moved here,’ Rachel said.
Dressed in black skinny jeans and a red blouse, with shoulder-length dark-blonde hair, Sally stood out a bit from the flowery dresses at the bake sale. She and I must have been roughly the same age.
‘Good to meet you,’ I said.
‘How are you settling into village life so far?’ she asked kindly.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘I haven’t had much of a chance to explore. But it seems nice here.’
‘It’s Eleanor McGuire’s place you’ve moved into, isn’t it?’ Sally said. ‘Beautiful location.’
‘It’s stunning – nothing for miles around. I still have to pinch myself in the mornings.’
Sally laughed. ‘Yes, it’s lovely and peaceful out here. And I’m enjoying my lie-ins since I stopped helping Mum and Dad with the farm. I say lie-ins – I’m still up at seven, but that feels like a luxury when I was used to mucking out the animals at five or six in the morning.’
‘Rachel has a farm?’
‘Yes, she and my dad, Fred, run it. She didn’t mention it? It’s their life – there are cows and chickens, the usual, but then there’s their real pride and joy – three horses – and Mum’s big passion, a dozen alpacas.’
‘Wow. That sounds like a lot of work.’
‘It is, but they love it. Mum’s been getting the alpaca wool spun – beautifully soft stuff. It was hard to leave them, knowing that they could still use an extra hand, but there are things I want to do in life that don’t involve putting my hand up cows’ bottoms.’
‘What could possibly be more appealing than that?’ I asked, smiling. I couldn’t help warming to Sally and her laid-back, unpretentious manner.
‘I run a bakery and cafe on the high street. I started it up last year with my husband, Dan. We specialize in wedding cakes. Got to make our own last year,’ she said, beaming. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got anything lined up?’
‘Been there, done that, I’m afraid,’ I said, flashing my wedding ring.
‘You’ll have to pop in anyway, next time you’re in town. We’re just next to the post office.’
‘Sure. I’ll do that.’
Two hours later, when the time came to leave, I had talked to most of the people in the hall, made friends with Sally and got the number of the workman she knew into the bargain. On top of all that, our cakes had gone down a storm, with only a slice left of each.
‘See,’ Mum said, nudging me gently. ‘I told you you’d get on well with everyone. And you met Sally and her friends too – so you see, we’re not all old farts around here.’
‘I never thought that,’ I said.
‘Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s get home. Looking at all these cakes has left me feeling famished. I think we both need a proper meal.’
*
After dinner, we settled down in Mum’s front room with tea. ‘There’s a screening of Breakfast at Tiffany’s coming up,’ she said, ‘at the village hall. They bring in a projector screen first Friday of the month. Perhaps we could go along to that together? If you’re interested?’
‘Yes, sure,’ I said. It had felt good to spend some time together. Perhaps now we could start to do that more often.
In the late-afternoon sun, something on her coffee table glinted.
I reached for it. As I lifted it, I saw it was a man’s chunky silver watch. ‘What this?’
‘A watch,’ Mum said, looking a little f
lustered.
‘Isn’t it a bit big for you?’ I said, letting it dangle off my wrist.
Mum looked at me but didn’t say anything for a moment. ‘It belongs to a friend,’ she said at last.
‘Mum, are you … blushing?’ I asked, watching a rosy glow creep up her neck and onto her face.
‘Of course not,’ she said dismissively.
‘You are!’ I said, as it dawned on me. ‘Are you seeing someone?’
‘I might be,’ she said, ‘yes.’
‘Really? What, romantically?’
She nodded.
God, I thought, struck temporarily dumb. I really hadn’t seen that one coming. My mum was in her sixties.
‘You look surprised.’
‘I suppose I am a bit. I thought you moved out here so you could invest time in some hobbies and—’
‘Get myself ready for the old people’s home? I came out here for a new start, yes. I didn’t know quite what that would consist of, but it turns out it’s far more exciting than I could ever have imagined.’
‘Right,’ I said, struggling to take it in.
‘Amelia, I’ve fallen in love.’
*
The next morning, after breakfast I drove home, still trying to make sense of what my mum had said. She had the right to meet someone – of course she did. She and my dad had been separated for years, and he was with Caitlin now. It was just that Mum had been on her own for so long, I really hadn’t expected it.
Callum was at work in the back garden.
‘You OK out there?’ I called out. Callum straightened and emerged from the long grass.
‘Hi. Actually, Spencer’s just driven over to the garden centre to get us some more bulbs. Would you like to come and give me a hand?’
He smiled. I knew he didn’t really need a hand from a city girl who didn’t know her buddleia from her begonias, but I appreciated him asking. Jack and I would be the ones looking after this garden in the long term, and we needed to know how to maintain it.
‘Come on.’ He beckoned me out. I put on my outdoor shoes and followed him. The early autumn sun was warm on the back of my neck and the smell of freshly cut grass filled the air, reminding me of lunchtimes on the school field back when I was a teenager.
‘Help me pull these up.’ Callum led me to a part of the garden where slender, twisting weeds with bell-shaped flowers were woven around the plants. ‘There are some brambles round here too, so you might need these,’ he said, passing me a pair of gloves.
As we worked, he talked me through what he and Spencer had done so far, and what they planned to do over the following week. ‘Shouldn’t be too much longer now,’ he said.
I noticed the way the sun caught the golden hairs on his tanned arms, his muscles subtly defined under a pale blue T-shirt.
‘What are your plans after this?’ I asked.
‘Who knows?’ Tiny beads of sweat had begun to form on his brow and he brushed them away. ‘If there isn’t another job I’m thinking of taking the van, an old VW camper, and driving it down to the south of Spain. I’ve got some friends out there who I haven’t seen in a while.’
‘But what about work?’ I asked, realizing as soon as I’d said it how stuffy and conventional I sounded. Had I jumped so quickly from twenty to middle-age?
‘I don’t need much,’ Callum said, bending back down to pull up the weeds. ‘I might do a bit of fruit picking or a bit of labouring on the way. Always meet some interesting people doing that.’
‘Sounds like fun,’ I said. I remembered the summer holidays Jack and I used to have in the south of France in campsites and hostels, time spent together in lavender fields and vineyards. Back before buying houses was all we seemed to talk about.
‘You?’ Callum asked.
‘Oh, we’ll just be here,’ I said. ‘I’ve not got a job at the moment and we’re focusing on doing up the cottage.’
‘You should enjoy the freedom,’ Callum said. ‘Sometimes a bit of time helps you see what matters.’
I shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
‘Won’t be long, I guess, until you guys have kids, settle down properly.’
His words dissolved the feeling of freedom I had out here, in the open air. ‘Not necessarily.’
‘I didn’t mean to assume, it’s just you seem so …’
‘Middle-aged?’ I joked. ‘Tied down? Boring?’
‘Look, I didn’t mean anything by it.’
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I suppose it’s a bit of a touchy subject. I’m not ready for all that. I’m not sure I ever will be.’
‘I just thought …’
‘Everybody does.’
‘Who cares what everyone thinks?’ Callum said. ‘You should do what you want.’
His eyes were fixed on mine, and I felt exposed. Why was it so much easier to talk to Callum than to my own husband? With him I felt I could be myself. The outdoors was part of him, and he seemed as free as I felt trapped right now.
A shout from across the garden interrupted my thoughts. ‘Got it,’ Spencer called out, waving a blue carrier bag in the air. His army shorts came to just above his knees, and he had a sleeveless white T-shirt on. I could see where the brambles had caught his shins and arms, and while Callum had toasted a golden brown in the sun, his cousin’s skin had turned slightly ruddy on his shoulders and cheeks.
I took off the gardening gloves, and Callum watched me. ‘You don’t have to go,’ he said, his voice soft.
‘I do.’ I put the gloves down by the tools and walked back across the garden towards the house.
*
‘Fancy some lunch?’ I asked Callum and Spencer.
‘You read our minds,’ Callum called back.
‘I’ll give you a shout in ten minutes, when it’s ready.’
I prepared French bread sandwiches for us all, and made a jug of lemonade to drink.
They came in, muddy and exhilarated, and dived onto the plates of ham and cheese sandwiches.
‘You look like you haven’t eaten in a week,’ I joked, pouring out glasses of lemonade.
‘Feels like it,’ Spencer said. ‘Tough work, gardening.’
I took a bite of my own sandwich, grateful again that I was getting help in one area of the house, at least. The doorbell rang, interrupting my thoughts.
‘Expecting someone?’ Spencer asked, raising an eye-brow.
‘Round here? I don’t even know anyone.’
I got up from the table and walked to the door, wondering who it might be. When I opened it, I found my mother standing there, a cautious smile on her face.
‘Mum!’ I said. In the light of what I’d learned about her love life, I couldn’t help noticing her glow – youthful – and her pale yellow flowery dress, trendier than she’d normally wear.
‘I thought I’d pop round. I hope you don’t mind. Thought perhaps I could have a quick peek at your new kitchen?’
‘OK, sure. Come in.’
‘And about what I said, Amelia … I don’t want it to come between us.’
‘It won’t. I’m happy for you, really.’ I wanted to change the subject. ‘You found the cottage OK then?’
‘Oh yes, no problem. I’ve got a satnav now, and I’ve been here once before.’
‘A satnav?’ I said, laughing. ‘And there was I thinking you were still a technophobe.’
‘Not any more,’ Mum said, beaming. ‘I’ve got my own Facebook profile now, you know. Did you see my friend request?’
‘I haven’t checked it in a while,’ I fibbed. ‘Anyway, come in. Just having a bite to eat for lunch. Would you like a sandwich?’
‘Oh thanks, darling, but no, I’m fine. I’m on that five-two diet and tomorrow’s my day off. Got a good binge to look forward to.’
‘Right,’ I said. Mum had been on every diet going for years – since the divorce, I suppose. She never seemed to lose any weight, but she liked to stay on top of the latest weight-loss trends.
We walked through to the kitchen.
/> ‘Callum, Spencer, this is my mum, Rosie.’
‘Hi,’ Spencer said first, getting up to shake her hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’
Callum hesitated for a moment. ‘Rosie, hi,’ he said, as if he recognized her.
Mum greeted him with a friendly kiss on the cheek. ‘Hi, Callum.’
‘You two know each other already?’ I asked, my gaze going from one to the other of them.
‘Oh, Hazelton’s a very small town, sweetheart,’ she said with a warm laugh. ‘I would have thought you’d worked that out by now.’
Mum looked around at the kitchen and the new decor. ‘You’ve done a wonderful job in here, Amelia. I love that dresser.’ She pointed to the one in the corner with my teapots on it.
‘Thanks.’
We settled down at the table, and I glanced from Callum to my mum, trying to work out what I’d missed.
‘It’s a marvellous place this cottage, isn’t it? Bit of work to do, like you said. Must have been an awful lot for your grandmother to look after on her own,’ she continued, looking at Callum.
‘It was. She’s better off where she is now,’ he replied.
‘Brought a fruit cake for you.’ Mum bent down to retrieve a cake from her bag. ‘From the bake sale. We sold two, didn’t we, Amelia? And I couldn’t resist buying one too. All for a good cause.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. I took the cake from her and put it on the side. ‘That’s a lovely thought. We’ll enjoy it.’
‘Don’t you want to have some now?’ Mum said. ‘I won’t have any, but you should. Perfect for dessert.’
‘Sure,’ I said, getting up and taking some plates out.
‘How has the garden been going?’ Mum asked Spencer and Callum. ‘Amelia said you’d been a great help.’
‘We’ve made some decent progress today, haven’t we, Cal?’ Spencer said, turning to his cousin.
‘We’ve cleared a path to the stream and we should be able to cut back quite a lot more by sundown tonight.’
‘You’re working right the way through today?’ Mum asked.
‘We may as well pack in as much as we can while the evenings are still fairly light.’
Mum practically purred her admiration at their work ethic.
‘What are you up to this afternoon?’ I asked, cutting the cake.
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