by Helen Rolfe
‘Does Layla ask about Mum’s problems?’
‘The agoraphobia? Layla and I talked about it from the start. You know what kids are like, she just asked me outright: “Why doesn’t Veronica ever leave her house?” We talked about anxiety, the feeling Layla gets when she has to stand up in front of the class and talk out loud. She’s always a little afraid of that. I told her it was like that except on a much bigger scale and it makes Veronica scared to even leave her own house. Layla got upset at the thought of Veronica being frightened, but I think she’s made it her mission to look after her.’
‘You must think I’m ten times worse, if an eight-year-old gets it and sticks around.’
When he reached out and his fingers rested on top of hers, she wanted to savour his touch, something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
‘Sam, I don’t think it’s that simple. You and your mum have a history; Layla and I don’t have anything other than what we have now. We all went into this friendship knowing the boundaries from the start. Believe me when I say, nobody is judging you.’
Sam wished he hadn’t taken his hand away. She wondered, did her body language give the game away and show she was fast developing feelings for him?
She stirred her hazelnut hot chocolate some more and added in more cream she wasn’t sure she even wanted. ‘Seeing the village tree today… Well, it makes me even more sad that Mum never sees it. She used to love it. The Mapleberry Village Big Switch On was the title on the leaflet that sailed through the door every winter around this time of year. We’d wrap up warm, take our torches to find our way across the field and wait for the crowds to applaud as the lights reached all the way up into the sky.’
‘When did she stop going?’
‘I’m not completely sure what year it was, but I remember her refusing to put on her coat, let alone go outside. She sat in her favourite chair, the one she sits in now with the worn upholstery, and she wouldn’t budge. I cried all the way to the field. I was devastated. I didn’t understand how she couldn’t, just for one night, put her worries aside and do it for me. I don’t think she ever went again.’ And although Charlie was easy to talk to, Sam wasn’t about to tell him the unforgiveable turning point that Veronica reached.
‘Remember I’m here whenever you need to talk, Sam.’ There was a softness to his voice that made her relax in his company. It was all she needed to hear in that moment.
‘After the year Mum didn’t come to see the tree, Christmas was different. There was a sadness hanging over us which always started with her absence at the village tree-lighting ceremony. Sometimes I’d look at her and I’d feel so angry. I wanted answers, I wanted to know why she stopped coming with us to an event she looked forward to all year, why she couldn’t bring herself to be a part of the audience at my school performances, what her reasons were for leaving her job as a nurse that she loved. She was a shadow of the woman I knew she could be.’ Sam’s eyes filled with tears as it all poured out. Most of all she’d wanted to yell at her mum for letting her blow their family apart. ‘I’m sorry to lay all this on you. Not that I’ve been able to tell you much.’
‘Sam, when did you ever talk to anyone the way you’re talking now? To Audrey?’ She shook her head. ‘How about with your ex-husband?’
She harrumphed. ‘Definitely not. Simon met Mum a few times but he joined the many people who thought Mum was an oddball. He never said so, he held his tongue, but I could tell he wanted distance between us all. I think if he’d been on board then I might have made more effort when Audrey was little. I don’t blame him for it, I’m a big girl and should’ve made the decision for myself, but I suppose he gave me an out. I had a new life and it was a hell of a lot easier than the one I’d had with Mum.’
‘What made you ask for Veronica’s help with Audrey?’
‘I had no idea what else to do, no clue how to stop Audrey and I becoming as estranged as Mum and I. I needed to get Audrey away from that school; she was getting into trouble and I knew a different place could be the answer, even if it was only temporary. And part of me needed to see whether Mum and I could salvage our relationship.’
‘And have you?’
She smiled gently. ‘I think we’re starting to make tracks, but it’s a long road. I’d always felt that she was more of a burden than anything else. Maybe deep down I wanted to give Mum one last chance to prove that she could be the parent I’d always needed. That sounds cruel, doesn’t it?’
He took her hand again, and her stomach did a little flip. ‘Not at all. And for what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. I’ve noticed a change in Veronica since Audrey came along and even more so since you arrived. Maybe Veronica also saw it as a chance to reconnect with you.’
‘I feel like I’m getting to know Mum all over again. Does that make sense?’
‘Totally, and you’re lucky, you get a second chance. I never got on with my dad and not making peace with him before he died still haunts me.’
‘I’m sorry.’
He shrugged. ‘It is what it is, but I’m glad when I see people like you doing their best to work through it before it’s too late.’
Too late. Two little words that meant so much. Sam didn’t want to be too late to make things right with her mum and she didn’t want to be too late to sort out her relationship with her daughter either. Because being here in Mapleberry, she knew family was the most important thing on her agenda right now.
Charlie lightened the conversation by asking about Sam’s new flat, her moving plans for the New Year. And when they made their way back towards Mapleberry Lane, Sam wasn’t sure but she thought she felt Charlie’s fingertips brush against her own as they walked, as though they both had their hands out of their pockets on purpose.
‘Mum,’ a voice called from across the road. Audrey had been sitting on the swings and came across as they arrived back at Veronica’s. ‘Where’ve you been?’
‘I went to see the tree, bumped into Charlie, and we went for a coffee.’ It was like the roles had been reversed: daughter quizzing, mother supplying answers.
Disappointed, Audrey told her, ‘I was going to see the tree but thought I’d wait until dark.’
‘We can go later if you like,’ said Sam, happy to go whenever her daughter wanted. She asked to do so little with her, she’d take any chance she got. ‘It’s much better in the dark, I’d like to go again.’
‘I’d better go and fetch Layla,’ said Charlie. ‘And don’t worry, I’ll drop her over at yours this afternoon for the Kindness Club meeting.’ With a smile, he waved goodbye and left them to it.
‘You like him.’ Audrey nudged Sam like a best friend.
Unsure whether he was completely out of earshot she urged, ‘Not too loud, he’ll hear you.’
‘Well, you do, don’t you?’
‘No comment.’
Audrey shrugged as they went down the front path. She flicked some of the remaining frost off one of the branches near the front door and as she let them both inside, the smell of Gran’s baking wafted their way. A freshly baked tea loaf turned out on a board greeted them in the kitchen, Gran was in the lounge in her usual armchair, her laptop lead snaking across the room so she could use her computer while she sat near the fire.
‘You chatting with your friends again, Gran?’ Audrey asked, with a wink in Sam’s direction. This was what Sam had wanted all along with her daughter. A bond that included friendship and laughter.
‘I was earlier. I shared my recipe for mushroom and chestnut stuffing. A woman called June commented and told me she’s going to make it for her family when she does roast pork tomorrow.’
‘I always loved your stuffing,’ Sam admitted. ‘It’s packet mix for me nowadays.’
‘I have more time on my hands.’ Veronica delivered her comment without a hint of irony. She was able to make jokes sometimes that suggested to Sam she recognised how stuck she was. Sam only wished she’d show some enthusiasm for getting some help. Sam didn’t want to
mention it too often; they were living under her roof after all. Maybe soon though.
‘Carole from the bakery had a baby boy this morning,’ Veronica hollered before either of them could grab a slice of tea loaf, its scent enticing them back into the kitchen.
‘That’s lovely,’ said Sam as her mum recounted the details – baby boy Curtis, nine pounds one ounce, a full head of dark hair.
Veronica scrolled down to something else in the residents group. ‘Look at this. There are so many charities at this time of the year, ones I’ve never heard of – there’s a shoebox appeal but I’m too late for this year. I’ve already made a note for next year, but I see this post here is about buying a gift for a child, specifying sex and age, then leaving around a tree.’
‘You must mean the wishing tree appeal.’ Sam perched on the arm of the chair. When she’d first come to the house, all three of them had taken one upholstered piece of furniture each, a good distance between each other, now they all shared the armchair, Gran on the seat, Sam in her position, Audrey on the other arm.
‘That’s the one. I’d not heard of it before, or at least I can’t remember it. Would one of you help me join in?’
‘Sure,’ said Sam and Audrey at the same time.
‘How about we do three gifts,’ Sam suggested. ‘One from each of us. I’ll buy two, Audrey can buy one more and you can wrap.’
‘This sounds a bit like an item on the calendar, although I haven’t seen December’s yet – Layla’s bringing it later.’ Veronica frowned. ‘I feel we’ll be leaving Layla out if it’s something us three do together.’
‘Then I’ll buy four gifts,’ said Sam simply. ‘Audrey and I will get two each, then you and Layla can be in charge of wrapping. She’ll love it. I’ll get some of that gorgeous green velvety ribbon and silver paper you used to love. Layla will enjoy making the bows and dressing the gifts up.’
‘You remember my colours?’ Veronica smiled.
‘Of course I do.’ Years ago, when she still loved Christmas, Veronica had insisted that all gifts came in silver paper and green velvet bows. It didn’t matter whether you were getting a train set, a barbie doll or a football, it would be wrapped the same way.
Sam left Audrey and her mum looking at some of the shopping websites for ideas, making a list of possible gifts, and when Sam went into the kitchen to get a start on making some sandwiches for lunch before she was tempted to cut a big chunk of tea loaf, she thought about her chat with Charlie. He’d been right when he said Veronica was changing as people came into her life. All of them in their own way were giving her life more meaning, enriching her limited world. And whether it was always set to be this way or whether they could make a difference, as long as they were helping in some way, Sam knew that was what really mattered.
Chapter Two
Veronica
Veronica was always eager to be a part of The Kindness Club, but nothing was quite as exciting as when Layla brought round a new calendar to show her, unveiling the new month’s tasks. When Layla had informed her that a friend would have to complete tasks alongside her and that she wanted that friend to be Veronica, it had sent Veronica into a mini-panic. She understood the purpose, it would spread more kindness that way, but when she couldn’t leave the house it made things difficult. At least it had until she, Layla and Audrey had come up with the solution of The Kindness Club on Mapleberry Lane. Not only would it solve the problem of her not leaving the house, but it also fulfilled one of the tasks: ‘Join a club’. And when she’d marked off that item, Veronica had felt a shift. And she knew what that shift was now – it was something verging on happiness.
What Veronica hadn’t realised that afternoon as they unrolled December’s calendar was quite how many Christmas-themed tasks it would include. Layla’s teacher’s enthusiasm seemed to mount every time the months flipped, but Veronica should’ve known. December always made people overexcited; it was the time to be over the top, the season of joy, goodwill, magic and all of the other feelings it evoked. She’d had Christmases like that once, but ever since she failed to bring the simple traditions to her own family, she’d shied away from the whole debacle, keeping only the habitual sending of cards. Christmas had never, and would never, be the same and celebrating always felt like a bit of a betrayal. Why should she feel so happy when she’d made others’ lives a misery? Not only did she not want to celebrate Christmas, Veronica didn’t think she deserved to. Last year had been hard enough, having Christmas lunch with Layla while she minded her for her dad. But she loved the little girl’s company, and although Veronica hadn’t had a tree or decorations, Layla had brought Christmas into this house simply with her personality and enthusiasm. There was also Audrey to think of now, a teen who perhaps didn’t have the excitement of Father Christmas anymore, but a girl who deserved Christmas done right. Veronica only hoped it wouldn’t all get too much. The last thing she ever wanted was for Audrey or Layla, or Charlie for that matter, to see her have a panic attack, to see her at her worst. She never wanted to frighten away the friends who’d come to mean so much.
Layla sat on the lounge carpet at Veronica’s and rushed through reading the calendar tasks, gabbling on at a rate of knots as she went off at tangents talking about how all three of them could accomplish what was required of them. Veronica hadn’t read many of the words on the calendar yet, she was still looking at tomorrow’s square. The words ‘put up your tree’ stared back at her. It was years since she’d had one inside her house, the smell drifting up the stairs in the cold morning air as she woke.
‘You don’t have to go out to get one,’ said Layla, following Veronica’s eye line and knowing what she was staring at.
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Come on, Gran,’ Audrey pleaded. ‘I get why you never had one when you lived on your own, but now we’re here it’s different, right?’
So Sam really had never told her why it was that Veronica gave up on Christmas as well as so many other things. She supposed for that she should be grateful. She sneaked a look at Sam who gave a tentative smile in return. ‘I don’t like needles in the carpet, they hang around for ever,’ she told them all. ‘And they smell.’
‘How can you not like the smell, Veronica?’ Layla looked so disappointed and for a moment Veronica wanted to curse that calendar for putting her in an impossible position. She’d a good mind to give this Mrs Haines a call and ask her why she was insisting on putting others through this rigmarole, making them alter their lives for a blessed calendar.
‘Mum, why don’t you get a tree?’ Sam came to her side. ‘I’d like to see one in the lounge again.’ A look passed between them, a shared hope that they could come out the other side after all that had happened since Sam was little.
Maybe it was time to step up, do this for everyone else, not herself. ‘I suppose I could get a small one.’
Sam put a hand on her shoulder. ‘The scouts have a lot outside the village hall, how about I go down there, take a look and see what I can get?’
‘Would you?’
Sam looked at Audrey and Layla. ‘You know, I’m only doing this if you let me into your club.’
Audrey began to laugh and suddenly stopped. ‘Oh, you’re serious.’
‘Of course I’m serious.’
Veronica had a sneaky suspicion Sam was doing it to be as much of a part of Audrey’s life as she could. After all, this was the last month of them living under the same roof and it would bring them together without being overwhelming. She had to hand it to her daughter for never giving up. She wished she’d had the same strength when she’d needed it the most. ‘We’ll have to take a vote, Sam,’ she said. ‘All those in favour, raise your hand.’
Layla’s shot up. Audrey lifted hers, though she still seemed surprised her mum wanted to be a part of this, and Veronica was, of course, in favour. ‘Well Sam, I’m happy to declare you a formal member of the Mapleberry Lane Kindness Club.
‘And I’m honoured to be a part of it.’
&n
bsp; Layla jumped up from her seated position. ‘You need to do the promise,’ she insisted, gathering all four of them into a circle and making them position their right hand at their temple, thumb and little fingers meeting to make a salute sign. Veronica didn’t miss the wobble of amusement in Sam’s voice as she was required to take the same pledge all three of them had taken back in the autumn, promising her allegiance to the Kindness Club.
‘You can help me walk Penny Croft’s dog next time if you like,’ said Layla the second Sam had been sworn in. ‘At the end of November my task was to offer to walk a neighbour’s dog and hers is huge.’ She winked at Sam. ‘You know what they say…big dog…’ To Sam’s questioning glance, she finished ‘…big poo.’
‘Well as appealing as that sounds, Layla, I’m hoping my club duties avoid anything poo-related. I’ll head off now and choose us a tree.’
‘Thanks love.’ The words were out before Veronica thought about them. It was many years since she’d used that phrase.
Sam froze in the doorway of the lounge until she remembered the mission she was on, bundled herself up again and ventured out.
She was back less than an hour later. ‘Sorted,’ she said, once she’d taken her boots off. ‘One Christmas tree ordered, to be delivered tomorrow around four o’clock.’
Audrey clapped her hands together. ‘Now it’s feeling like it’s almost Christmas. And Mum, Layla has something for you.’
Layla held out a round disc covered in plastic. ‘I made these with my badge maker. If you’re in our club, you have to wear it to every meeting.’ All three of them already had their badges on, although Layla had made the rule only moments ago.
Sam pinned the badge to her top and Layla took charge of the meeting by handing Sam a purple pen. ‘This is your colour. We all have one so that when we cross out items we know who has done them.’