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‘How did he do that?’ Allegra asked and Clover chuckled.
‘He used to stay out late, leave his bedroom in a terrible mess and sometimes he was a bit rude to me.’ Clover shook her head. ‘His father and I wondered if we’d been given the wrong baby at the hospital.’
‘Really?’ Allegra’s eyes widened.
‘Not really, no.’ Clover winked at Brooke. ‘It’s one of those things we say. He was definitely my baby, but I did wonder sometimes why he was so … challenging.’
Allegra blinked, then returned her attention to the clay horses on the table, moving two of them along so it looked like they were racing.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Clover said. ‘I forget that children can take things so literally.’
‘It’s fine. I think it’s good for Allegra to learn different expressions. We all need to learn that people don’t mean exactly what they say sometimes.’
‘I’m glad you don’t mind. I don’t want to confuse the child.’
They both gazed at Allegra, who was clearly very engaged in her game. Brooke noticed her daughter was being careful with the horses and she was relieved because she knew Allegra would be devastated if she broke something. Just the other day she’d been in the kitchen looking for her plastic beaker and, unable to find it, she reached for a mug. The mug had slipped from her hand and smashed on the tiles and Allegra had been broken-hearted. It had taken lots of cuddles and some ice cream to calm her down and to get her to realise that it didn’t matter; it was only a mug. Brooke had told her softly that things sometimes broke and that when it was an accident, it was all right. She’d wondered, though, if there had been more to it and if Allegra had been thinking of her father. She’d been as honest as she could be with Allegra about how Aidan had died, while trying to protect her from the worst details, but people talked and Allegracould have heard things at school or come across them online if she was searching for details. She might only be six, but she was bright and tended to absorb far more than Brooke often realised.
‘What can I do to help?’ Brooke asked, pushing the sleeves of her jumper up. She’d put the warm jumper on because it had looked chilly out but the hall was warm and she regretted not wearing a T-shirt underneath it.
‘Encourage people to purchase items if you can, and when you sell something, make a note of it in this book.’ Clover patted a notebook with a floral cover on the table. ‘Each item has a sticker with the name of the creator on it along with the price, so if we write them in the book then we’ll know who we owe money to. Granted, it’s not a fortune but it can add up over time and people often use it to buy more supplies they can use in the workshop.’
Brooke’s eyes roamed the table and then she spotted the dish she’d made and painted with small forget-me-nots. Clover followed her gaze. ‘I brought it because I thought you might want to sell it, but you can, of course, keep it if you’d like it.’
Brooke nibbled at her lower lip, then reached for the small dish. It was cool to the touch, not warm like it had been when she’d moulded it. She thought about how she’d felt that day, not even a full fortnight ago, and how she was feeling now. The dish represented a significant moment for her and so, she decided, she’d like to keep it.
She didn’t even need to say anything, because Clover knew. She laughed softly, then took the dish from Brooke and set it on the shelf next to her coat. ‘It’s yours, my darling. I suspected you’d like to keep it but I didn’t want to presume anything. Sometimes people like to keep their work so they can see how far they’ve come and sometimes they like to move it on, almost like a symbolic way of making progress and moving forwards. Either way is fine.’
Brooke scratched at her cheek. ‘You’ve done this before?’
‘Done what?’ Clover's white eyebrows ascended gradually.
‘Worked with grieving people.’
‘Brooke, I’ve worked with people going through all sorts of things over the years. Sometimes we work with clay, sometimes we work the land, digging and planting, and sometimes we walk. There’s no one way to heal but we have many tools in our toolboxes, and we simply need to find what works for us as individuals. It can take one, two or a whole range of things but that’s fine too.Whatever helps, is my motto.’
‘You’re amazing, Clover,’ she said, her heart squeezing. ‘I wish I’d met you sooner.’
‘You met me at the right time, my sweetheart. This is the right time and now, I’m here for you.’
Brooke’s vision blurred and she blinked rapidly, dabbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’
‘Hey…’ Clover’s tone was calm, soothing. ‘Friendship works both ways, Brooke. I like you and I see some of myself in you. I truly believe that in Wisteria Hollow you will find a home. Take it day by day and be kind to yourself. Take each emotion as it comes, like the ebb and flow of the tide. Seeing you heal will be thanks enough for me. Hell, at my age it’s great to feel useful.’ The twinkle in her eyes made Brooke smile in spite of the emotion welling inside her, and when Clover wrapped a thin arm around her shoulders and hugged her, she hugged Clover right back.
Clover gave Brooke’s left cheek a gentle pat. ‘Everything will be all right in the end, Brooke. I promise you that.’
And Brooke found herself believing that Clover was right.
Chapter 18
Brooke
January gave way to February and Brooke found herself looking forward to seeing the end of winter and welcoming spring. She imagined spring would be beautiful in the village.
Allegra was settled into school, Brooke had been working with some of her regular clients, and life had a new routine. This routine was important for Allegra and for Brooke and she liked the security of knowing how her days would go. A few days a week, after she’d done her work for the morning, she’d head on down to The Pottery Shack and spend some time with Clover and other people there or she’d go for a long woodland walk, something she really enjoyed. On these walks, she’d focus on the details around her, absorbing the sights, smells and sounds and relish being present in the moment. Mindfulness was a practice that helped her stop worrying about what was to come and about things that were beyond her control. She was learning so much about herself and how her mind worked and it helped her to accept that her emotions were not permanent, she could grieve when she needed to and she would have times when she hurt less. Whenever she had a wobble, she’d remind herself ofClover’s words:Everything will be all right in the end …and it comforted her enormously.
Clover had invited Brooke over for dinner this evening. Allegra had been invited too but two of her friends at school, Kendra and Kelsie Fernandez, had asked Allegra to theirs for a playdate after school. Brooke knew the twins’ mum, Celeste, and so she’d agreed, happy to know her daughter was forging friendships. Celeste had said she’d collect Allegra from school with her daughters then drop Allegra home later. It was made easier by the fact that Celeste and her girls lived just a few doors along on Sunflower Street so Allegra wouldn’t be far away. When they’d lived in Rochdale, Allegra had often gone on playdates and had her friends round to their home, but after Aidan passed away, Brooke hadn’t been able to cope with the thought of either scenario. Anything out of the basic daily plan had seemed exhausting, and it had probably been another reason why people had turned away from her. She’d become so insular, had hidden herself away like a wounded animal, doing the bare minimum to survive. That hadn’t been fair on Allegra, although Brooke had used the small amount of energy she’d had to ensure that her daughter was taken care of. It had left nothing for her. Now though, she knew she had to let go a bit in order to allow Allegra to thrive, and so Allegra could have her playdate, then Brooke would aim to return the favour in a week or two.
Brooke had decided to dig something nice out of her wardrobe for this evening to make an effort. She’d found a black shift dress with long sleeves that she’d forgotten about and black knee-high boots with a low wedge she hadn’t worn in ages. She added a purple silk scarf and some gold bangles that tinkled together when she moved, then she put some makeup on. Not much, but enough so she looked more human, she thought, and she finished with a slick of pink lip-gloss. When she was ready, she grabbed her coat and gloves, then walked to Clover’s.
