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Clover set about putting the small dishes into the oven in the workshop's corner and Brooke tidied up the table, then gave her hands a wash at the large sink. When she’d dried them, she slid her rings out of her pocket and put them back on, gazing at them for a long moment. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting to take them off and had no idea if she ever would do. That would be like admitting that she was over Aidan and she could never be over him. It would also feel like a betrayal of what they’d shared, of their love and their marriage and their promises to eachother. And yet … people did move on. They got involved again after they’d lost a partner; they married again, they sometimes had more children. Brooke was young and she knew that Aidan wouldn’t have wanted her to stay single, he’d said as much on the few occasions when they’d talked about what they’d do if one of them passed away while Allegra was young. It wasn’t a subject either of them enjoyed talking about, but they had to write their wills and to be realistic for Allegra’s sake. It was about taking precautions in case anything happened, not wanting to imagine what would become of the surviving partner. Brooke had jokingly told him he’d better stay single if she died first or she’d come back to haunt him, but she hadn’t meant it, not at all. She’d never have wanted her handsome, vibrant husband to be lonely. Or for their daughter to be without a mother figure. But the thought of not being there for Allegra was more than she could bear and so she sucked in a deep breath, fluffed her hair with both hands and stretched out her back. It seemed that being here in Clover’s workshop made the things she didn’t want to think about rise to the surface like bubbles in a fizzy drink, and while it might not be easy, she knew it was good to let those things rise and then pop. They were just thoughts and they could pass on by, but at least she’d considered them and then decided what she would do with them. She couldn’t escape her grief or her fears, but she could practise controlling them and, in doing so, she could process them and heal.
Baby steps…
‘How’re you feeling?’ Clover asked as she washed her hands.
‘Good. Emotional. A bit tired. Kind of relieved. And … thoughtful.’
‘That makes sense. You’ve released a lot today and could probably do with a nap.’
Brooke tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘I should probably get home and do some work.’
Clover tilted her head. ‘Do you have to work today, or can it wait until tomorrow?’
‘It can wait, I guess. My clients know I’ve just moved, and I don’t have any rush jobs on.’
‘Well why don’t we have another mug of tea but up at my house? I can make us some lunch then you can go home and have a nap before you collect Allegra from school.’
‘Are you sure? Don’t you have to keep the shop open?’ Brooke nibbled at her bottom lip.
‘It’ll be fine. I have no one booked in for classes today and if anyone wants pottery in an emergency, they can always call me.’ Clover winked. ‘Besides, I can come back later and open up for a bit. We both deserve a lunch break, don’t we?’
‘I’ve already taken up so much of your time.’
‘Brooke, dear, at my age, having the company of a lovely young woman is a gift indeed. Some folks my age get lonely because their friends are all gone, they don’t have family living nearby and they can end up trapped in the house. I like having company and being busy because it keeps my mind sharp. I can have all the peace and quiet I need when they carry me out feet first.’
‘Of course,’ Brooke agreed.
Clover shook her head. ‘I’m so sorry. That was insensitive of me.’
‘No, it’s fine. You’re right.’
‘Sometimes, despite my great age, I speak before thinking.’
‘I agree with you though; time is all we have, and we should make the most of it.’
‘Well in that case, I make a mean egg mayonnaise sarnie and I have a surplus of fresh eggs at the house so let’s go and have something to eat.’
Clover got the dishes out of the oven and set them to cool then they put their coats, hats and gloves on. On the way,Clover told Brooke that her home was a rather modest detached property. But when they got there, Brooke’s jaw hit the ground…
Chapter 14
Clover
In her kitchen, Clover chuckled softly to herself as she set some eggs on to boil, then cut some slices from a loaf of homemade bread. Brooke’s reaction when they’d arrived at Clover’s home was one that she hadn’t seen for a while, but not unusual because Clover lived in a big, old house with an extensive garden. She often forgot that not many people had houses as big as hers. She’d grown up there though, and it was like with most things, if you saw it every day, you stoppedseeingit. But witnessing Brooke’s reaction made her realise that her red brick Victorian home with its slate roof, sash windows, high ceilings and ornate fixtures and fittings was impressive. It was also too big for one elderly lady, she often thought, but she wasn’t about to move at her age and so it would be up to her son to sell the property after she’d passed away.
When the eggs had boiled for long enough, Clover drained them, then filled the saucepan with cold water and set it to one side. ‘These need to cool down a bit before I put mix them with mayonnaise so would you like to have a look around the garden?’
‘I’d love to … if that’s all right?’ Brooke smiled shyly.
‘Of course it is. You can meet the chickens who provide me with plenty of lovely fresh eggs.’
They went out through the utility room that led off the kitchen and then through the back door. ‘Be careful on the steps,’ Clover said. ‘I’ve slipped on them a few times when it’s been icy and given my backside a right bump.’
‘That could be nasty,’ Brooke said.
‘I should really sort something out or just use one of the other doors but when I’m busy I sometimes forget,’ Clover admitted.
On the gravel path that led around the house, Clover took the lead, and they followed it to the side of the property, then she gestured at the chicken coop and enclosure. ‘There you go.’
