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Gwen wandered down to the bottom of the garden, past John’s nativity set, the Santa’s grotto, the pond that hadn’t quite managed to be turned into an ice-skating rink, to the wrought-iron bench David had given her for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. She sank onto it with a sigh, tilting her head up to the pale blue sky.Oh, David, I miss you.
She hadn’t expected to feel that old grief and longing, right on the heels of saying goodbye to John, but she did. She missed David sitting in his favorite armchair, doing the crossword, the way he’d glance at her over the top of his newspaper, eyebrows raised. She missed him bringing her a cup of tea in the morning, strong and with just a splash of milk, the way she liked it, made perfectly every time. She missed having someone in her life who knew how to make her tea, and who even knew when he’d got it just the tiniest bit wrong—sorry! An extra splash of milk! Is it utterly undrinkable?—and who laughed with her before she’d even started laughing, because they’d thought of the same joke at the exact same time. She missed someone being there,knowingher so absolutely, in a way she’d taken for granted because you did, you had to, until you didn’t have that person in your life anymore.
She wouldn’t wish grief or loss on anyone, but sometimes she looked at Ellie and Matthew or Sarah and Nathan with their petty problems that seemed so enormous to them at the time, and she wanted to give them all a good shake.You don’t know how lucky you are! Hang onto what you have, because one day it might be taken from you, and there will be nothing you can do about it. Nothing at all.
Gwen leaned her head back against the bench and closed her eyes. It had been twenty-two years since David had died. In a few years, she would have been widowed longer than she’d been married. It was a strange thought, because even after all this time, David felt as much a part of her as her own sinew and bone.
How silly of her, she realized, to think that after a mere two years, John would be ready to think of romance. How completely ridiculous! She saw, plainly now, that her own aspirations in that area had not been matched by John’s, and no wonder. He was in an entirely different place than she was—still adrift and anchorless, looking for a way to moor himself, to ease the loneliness that Gwen knew from experience could feel so overwhelming and even confusing, as if in losing someone, you’d somehow also lost yourself. He wasn’t looking for apartner, or anything close to it.
Gwen let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. She’d been a fool, yes, but she felt more grounded now, almost relieved, in realizing it. She could be John’s friend—by email or otherwise—without feeling disappointed. At least, nottoodisappointed.
Because, yes, she was still lonely—now that she’d let that genie out of its bottle, she doubted it would find its way back in. She might be sixty-nine years old, but she was fit and active and she was ready for something more in life. At least, in her friendship with John, she’d come to understand and accept that about herself.
Gently, she traced the intricate scrollwork on the bench, her fingers finding the familiar lines. She wasn’t usually one for sentimentality, but she felt close to David on this bench, almost—almost—as if he were sitting right beside her.
“Is it all right, my darling?” she asked softly, feeling slightly silly for speaking the words aloud. “Is it all right if I move on, a little, in that way? I’ll always love you, you know.”
In the peaceful silence of a winter’s afternoon, she thought she heard his reply.
And I will always love you. But yes, Gwen. Of course it’s all right.
CHAPTER16
ELLIE
ONE WEEK LATER
Ellie sat in the waiting room, jiggling her foot and glancing at her watch as Ava kicked her legs next to her. They’d been waiting in the doctor’s surgery for over half an hour, and it was now nearing mid-morning.
“Mummy, I’m thirsty.”
“Have some water, sweetheart.” Ellie fished a water bottle out of her bag and watched, bemused, as her daughter guzzled half of it. At this rate, Ava would need the toilet again; she’d already gone once since they’d got there.
Ellie had made the appointment after another week of broken nights, although she still suspected Ava was wetting her bed because of stress. She’d seemed pretty peaky, but perhaps that could be from the missed sleep. Whatever the cause, it was best to get it checked out, and she was conscious she’d let things slide in that regard, thanks to the busyness of getting the Bluebell Inn ready for Christmas.
She’d let too many things slide, Ellie acknowledged with a pang of maternal guilt and anxiety. Mairi’s unhappiness at losing Sophie’s friendship, Ben’s troubles…
Ben. Briefly, Ellie closed her eyes as she recalled the phone call from the headteacher several weeks ago, requesting that she and Matthew come into school that very day. Ellie had been alarmed; they’d never been called in like this before, and although Ben was boisterous, he’d never been in serious trouble.
But this time he was.
“Ben has been accused of bullying by several boys in his year,” the headteacher had begun without preamble, once they’d been seated in her office, with Ben next to them, hanging his head, unwilling to look anyone in the eye. Ellie hadn’t been able to tell if he was ashamed or just irritated.
“Bullying?” she’d repeated faintly, shocked by the assertion. She’d turned to her son. “Ben?”
He’d shrugged, not replying.
“Two boys have accused him and some others of pushing and shoving them at breaks, and then today…” The headteacher had paused, ominously. “They demanded these boys give them their pocket money. This kind of behavior is absolutely unacceptable, as I’m sure you appreciate.”
Pushing, shoving,stealing? Ellie had felt her body go cold, her mind numb.Herchild had done these things? She couldn’t believe it, and yet Ben wasn’t denying it. He wasn’t saying a word.
“Ben?” Matthew had barked, his tone stern. “Can you explain what happened?”
Their son had simply shrugged again.
“You do know how serious this is, I hope, Ben?” the headteacher had stated, leaning over her desk, her tone even sterner than Matt’s. “I’m afraid this is going to result in a twenty-four-hour suspension from school.”
Suspension. Ellie had gone even colder. How could this be happening? “Ben, say something,” she’d demanded, and her son had looked up, sulky and sullen.
