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Avril had left behind a close circle of friends in London and a wider group of work colleagues. Taking voluntary redundancy from John Lewis and making a new start was all well and good in theory; what she hadn’t counted on, now most of the moving stuff was done, was how lonely she’d find it. Taking another deep breath, she stopped by the friendliest-looking woman and said, ‘Hi.’
The woman, possibly in her seventies and very chic with a sharply cut silver bob and long dangly earrings, looked up and smiled. ‘Oh, my lovely, you must be Avril. We’ve been expecting you. Scoot up the rest of you. Sit yourself down Avril, and I’ll introduce everyone. I’ll start with me, I’m Brenda Pearce.’
Avril sat down, unbuttoned her coat and hung it on the back of the chair. There were about fifteen women in the group and all looked at her with curiosity. The age range was wider than Avril had expected, she’d anticipated them to be mostly older. As Brenda introduced them, she only took in a few names.
‘Next to you is Lucie Wiscombe, Brenda stopped and corrected herself. But of course, you’re Lucie Taylor now you’ve married the lovely James, or have you kept your name?’
‘Hi there,’ Avril said. She knew Lucie, a young woman in her twenties with vivid chestnut hair. When buying the house, she’d mostly dealt with the manager of the estate agents, a ferociously efficient woman called Ellie, but she’d often been made a cup of coffee by this friendly girl.
‘No, I’m still a Wiscombe. Just can’t seem to shake ’em off. Hi, Avril. Hope you’re settling into the new house?’
‘Yes thanks. Still lots of boxes to unpack though.’
Lucie rolled her eyes in sympathy. ‘I can imagine. Good luck! Give us a ring when you’ve emptied them, we can put you in touch with someone who needs packing boxes. There’s always someone looking for them and it saves you a trip to the tip.’
Avril was surprised at the kind thought. ‘Thank you!’
‘On my right here is Marion Crawford,’ Brenda continued. Marion nodded coolly and looked superior. ‘Next to Marion is Lucie’s mum, Debbie, and next to her is Clare Cheney who runs Cheney House in Bereford and Maisie who kindly lets us meet here.’
Brenda reeled off several others, but Avril lost track.
‘This is Avril Pengethley. Just moved from London and keen to join us Natterers. We’re a few missing today, as not all of us can come to every session,’ Brenda apologised. ‘And I’m sure I’ve completely bewildered you with all the names, but you’ll get to know us one way or another. We’re all friendly. No point in being otherwise, is there?’
No, Avril thought and, Marion aside, they did indeed look friendly. Some of her nerves subsided now she’d done the hardest part. In London her friends had evolved gradually. Some from the primary school Merryn had attended and where she’d been a parent-governor, a few from work, and Suz next door who she’d become close to. She wanted to make a fresh start in Lullbury Bay, wanted to carve out a social circle that didn’t depend on her children or work but had more to do with her and who she was. Tracy’s suggestion of the Knit and Natterers seemed a good start. She’d knitted a lot years ago but hadn’t had time to do much recently. She said as much to the group.
‘Oh, don’t worry yourself,’ Maisie, a young dark-haired woman, said. This must be the owner of the café Tracy had mentioned. A warm smile spread over her face. ‘I used to knit but I can’t remember a thing. I’m here to learn. I’ll be relying on your help, Avril. That’s if you’ve got the patience.’ She pulled a face and the others laughed. ‘And you might need a lot!’
‘I’m here to learn too,’ Lucie put in. ‘I’m writing a book and one of my characters is a knitter, so I thought I’d learn too. You know, I’ve always thought your surname ever so unusual, Avril.’
‘I’ve always been told it’s Cornish, but it might be Welsh. It’s where I’m from originally, Cornwall that is. But I’ve lived in London for most of my adult life.’ Avril paused and said, slightly tremulously, ‘Not sure where I belong these days.’
Brenda gave her a quick hug. ‘Well, now you belong to Lullbury Bay,’ she said comfortingly.
Maisie beamed. She seemed a welcoming, uncomplicated sort of a person and warmth exuded from her. ‘It’s easy to learn to belong to Lullbury Bay, Avril. You’re very welcome. I hope you’ll be happy here. No, Iknowyou’ll be happy here. It’s a wonderful place to live.’
Avril came close to tears. These women had welcomed her unquestioningly and were being genuinely warm. Tracy had been right, itwasa good group to be part of.
‘I’ve alwayssoloved Cornwall,’ Marion said, in a nasal, pinched sort of a voice, which cut through all the bonhomie. ‘Such divine little houses. Always hankered after apied-à-terrethere. In Padstow or maybe Rock? I dosoadore the Rick Stein place.’ She sniffed slightly. ‘I attended a cookery class there once, you know, and was asked for my curried gurnard recipe. I was told it was very highly thought of.’
Lucie made a strange snorting sound and Maisie hushed her. Brenda cleared her throat and Avril noticed one or two of the group exchange knowing glances. She suppressed a smile. She’d met Marion’s type before, often at the school gate. She had her sussed.
‘Shall we get down to business, Knitters?’ Brenda said. She looked around dramatically as if to see who was within listening distance and then bent nearer and whispered. ‘Now, Avril, I know you’ve only just joined but I’m going to have to ask you to promise an oath of secrecy. Quite possibly on a matter of life or death. Promise I won’t make you sign in blood though, or make you sign the official secrets act.’
Lucie spluttered. ‘I bet if Aggie was here, she’d make you do that, or possibly a satanic ritual at midnight on a full moon. Naked. There would probably be whips involved. Rumour is, she still has a stash in the wardrobe.’
‘Haven’t we all,’ Marion chortled, to Avril’s surprise. Perhaps she was more fun than her first impression implied.
‘Just as well she’s out of town, then,’ Maisie said, more reassuringly. ‘Avril, you’ve plenty of time to meet our lovely Aggie when she comes back from her holiday. She’s Lullbury Bay’s most, shall we say, notorious OAP and once met never forgotten, but she has a heart of gold.’
Avril nodded, mystified. This wasn’t turning out to be the cosy but possibly dull group she’d anticipated.
‘Right then,’ Brenda commanded. ‘Gather round troops, be discreet, we don’t want this getting out, but we need to discuss our cunning plan!’
CHAPTER5
‘ONE NIGHT, ONE MOMENT’ – NATIVITY! THE MUSICAL
Friday 3rd December
