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Chapter 1
Brooke
‘And that’s a wrap!’ Brooke Landry gave a hollow laugh as she sealed the last box of kitchen items ready for the removals team in the morning. ‘A wrap,’ she repeated. ‘Get it?’
Looking around, she sighed. There was no one there to respond, so she was speaking to herself, again.
She sank onto the box and rested her head in her hands then rubbed at her itchy eyes. She’d spent all of the first Sunday in January packing and trying to keep herself from getting emotional when she came across items with lovely memories attached to them.
There had been a surprising amount of dust in the cupboards when she’d been clearing them out. Things she’d long forgotten about had been tucked away on top of cupboards — where she couldn’t see them because of her (sometimes annoying and sometimes advantageous) lack of height — like the glass fishplate that used to belong to her paternal grandmother, the cocktail shaker she’d bought when she was at university and obsessed with making margaritas, and the cafetière for one that someone had (confusingly) bought her and Aidan as a wedding gift. The latter would certainly come in useful now, she thoughtwryly, but so would a margarita or ten.Drowning my sorrows?As for the fishplate … who knew? Maybe she’d find an occasion in the future to cook a side of salmon and display it on the elegant blue glass plate. Maybe she wouldn’t. Who knew what life had in store for her? Nothing would surprise her now, she felt sure, after the year from hell she’d just endured.
Regardless of whether she’d thought the things would come in useful, she’d packed them along with everything else, and now they’d be moving with her to Sunflower Street in Wisteria Hollow, a pretty, rural village in Surrey. A village where she’d thought she’d be moving with her husband and daughter, where they’d imagined living a beautiful family life together, but now… Now it was just Brooke and Allegra because Aidan was…
Don’t say it, don’t even think it, just don’t!
She closed her eyes and took a long, satisfying breath, her hands resting on her stomach as she filled her lungs. In and out. In and out.Control the breath even when you can’t control anything else.
The technique she’d learnt to control the panic attacks she’d suffered from during the past ten months worked, and she felt herself calming down. If she didn’t ruminate, didn’t recycle what had happened, she could just about stay on top of things.
Just. About. Just.
She stood up and shook herself, pushed her hands though her light brown bobbed hair and went to the cupboard to get a glass. But the cupboard was empty because the glasses had all been packed. However, she had a refillable water bottle that she located on the table, so she grabbed it then filled it with tap water. After she’d gulped some down, she looked around the kitchen. There had been many happy times here in this red brick, three-bed, semi-detached house in Rochdale. It was the house they’d bought after they married when they’d tired of renting an expensive Manchester city flat and wantedsomewhere they could see themselves settling and starting a family. Rochdale had ticked their boxes with its urban feel yet spacious parks and the countryside right there on their doorstep. It had everything they’d thought they wanted back then, so they’d moved there and a few years later, Allegra had come along.
Catching sight of her reflection in the kitchen window because of the darkness beyond the glass, Brooke winced. With her messy hair, the bob now too long to be tidy, the dark shadows under her hazel eyes and her razor-sharp cheekbones, she looked awful.Gaunt with grief, she’d overheard other mums at the school gates mutter when she’d been waiting to collect Allegra. Not that she’d thought they were being mean, but they could have waited until she was out of earshot before whispering about her. However, she acknowledged that they were right and she didn’t look her best right now.
She shrugged, irritation at how powerless she felt prickling at her skin, turned her back on her reflection and walked to the doorway, then turned off the light. It was time to spend her last night in this house before moving to her new home and trying to rebuild her life. Had it been just Brooke, she’d have felt less motivated to try, but she had Allegra to think of and the six-year-old girl needed a mum who was present and trying to engage with life. She’d already lost her dad, and that was quite enough for a young child to deal with. Brooke owed it to her daughter, and she would do her best to be the mum Allegra needed. Themum and dadAllegra needed.
Even though she might not feel like it, Brooke had to try again and to take a second chance at life. Moving to a new home seemed like a good way to start.
Chapter 2
Clover
Swaying her hips to the Frank Sinatra song, Clover Radley pushed her hands into the bread dough, then pulled them back. She kneaded the dough in time to the music, allowing her mind to fill with visions of the young Frank and how handsome he’d been.
And oh … that voice…
‘I wouldn’t have kicked you out of bed for farting, that’s for sure, Frank!’ She chuckled as she picked the dough up, then plopped it down on the old oak table again.
Her eighty-four-year-old hands looked gnarled like branches of a tree, with large arthritic lumps on the joints. So far, she’d been lucky to avoid the painful arthritis that she knew some people her age suffered from. She was convinced this was because she was so active, her hands were constantly busy, whether she was baking, cleaning, crocheting, shaping clay or rebuilding the chicken coop. Her hands were still flexible, and she was glad of it because not being able to do what she wanted to do would deeply vex her. Her GP told her regularly that she was in great shape for her age and that she should be proud of how well she looked after herself. Clover was proud of it. She kept active, she slept well, and she ate a varied diet. What shedidn’t disclose to the GP, because she knew he’d disapprove, was that she was sure her daily glass of red wine helped too. And being in her eighties, there was no way she was going to stop that now.
Dough done, she dropped it back into the mixing bowl and draped a damp tea towel over the top, then set it near the AGA. She’d give it some time to prove and enjoy a cup of tea and a brief rest before getting on with the rest of her baking. Her grandson, Nolan, was visiting later, and she always liked to make sure she had cakes to offer him, as well as some to take home with him. It was definitely the highlight of her day when he visited because he was such a darling boy and she was so very proud of him and all that he’d achieved, but most of all because he had such a big heart and would do anything to help anyone. Even though Nolan was twenty-eight, she still liked to keep an eye on him, especially when his parents were away — like now when they were travelling Australia for six months. Not that Nolan lived with them, because he had his own place in Wisteria Hollow, but when his parents were in the country, they were there if he needed anything — as was Clover. But then she could say the same about him because he was always there for her. It was a mystery to Clover why no one had snapped him up yet, but then he never really seemed that interested in having a relationship, or at least that was the impression he gave her. Perhaps he was just playing his cards close to his chest on that one.
Sighing, she washed her hands, then put the kettle on and dropped a tea bag into a mug. If she got the chance to be a great grandmother, she’d be delighted, but even if she didn’t, she had been blessed with the gift of a precious grandson.
Chapter 3
Brooke
‘Mummy, can we go to the park?’ Allegra asked from the kitchen doorway.
Brooke swallowed a sigh from her position on her knees in front of an open cupboard and opened her mouth to reply. She had so much to do and just looking at the boxes made her heart sink. They’d arrived in the village yesterday and she’d done a perfunctory clean of the house but then she’d cuddled Allegra on the sofa and tried to allow herself to be distracted by the TV. It had been hard though. In the unfamiliar lounge, the sofa appeared smaller than it had in their old home, like it wasn’t meant to be there, and the air smelt different. She wondered if she had made a huge mistake going ahead with the move after everything that had happened. Perhaps it would have been better to have stayed put in Rochdale where their life had been. The thought that she had uprooted herself and Allegra and taken them away from everything they knew, from their security and familiar surroundings, now seemed like a huge mistake. But it was too late to go back; the new owners would already have moved their things into her old home so she had to make the most of the situation and get on with it.
When they’d made an offer on the property just over eleven months ago, they’d pictured the move as a positive thing for them all, a fresh start filled with hope and making more happy memories. They’d decided it would be better to move while Allegra was still at primary school, and when they’d been browsing areas to live and what houses were available to buy with their budget, they’d seen the one on Sunflower Street in Wisteria Hollow and thought it perfect. The village had an excellent primary school, transport links to London and was surrounded by beautiful countryside. But then it had all gone spectacularly wrong and one dark, stormy afternoon when the sky was gunmetal grey and the roads had been slick with water, everything had changed and she’d become a widow at thirty years old.
‘Mummy, are you OK?’ Allegra asked, crossing the kitchen to stand right in front of Brooke.
Brooke forced a smile to her lips and nodded. ‘I’m OK, sweetheart.’ She stood up and placed her hands in the small of her back then peered out of the window. The early January day was chilly but thankfully dry, and some fresh air would be good for them both as well as giving her a chance to get her bearings in the village. ‘Yes, let’s go to the park. I just need to find my trainers.’
