She burst out laughing at the memory, the kind of laugh that is on the brink of a sob. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not going to keep giving him endless chances. But I need a plan before I decide whether this is a phase, or if it’s just him. However crappy things have got, it’s still better than going back to sharing a bedroom with Nan.’
‘You could come here,’ I said. ‘Only £200 a night, breakfast included.’
‘Make it two a night and I’ll pack my bags.’
I nearly accepted her offer, only we had guests booked in and a business to run and I was still a bit scared of Alice so wasn’t quite ready to share a house with her.
‘You could stay with me?’ Becky said.
Alice frowned. ‘That would mean a really long commute.’
‘Unless you borrowed Luke’s boat? He keeps it at the Old Boat House dock anyway.’
She looked at Becky, a long, open stare, and although I couldn’t ever really understand what it meant, how significant the invitation was to cross this metaphorical bridge between their communities, I knew that this was how it started. Two individuals, prepared to lay the past behind and take a step forward.
‘I’ll think about it. But, well, thanks. That means a lot.’
Ain’t that the truth.
31
‘A community orchard?’ I asked Daniel an hour later, lying on the sofa with a hot chocolate, my feet in his lap. ‘When did you decide that?’
‘About two minutes before I said it,’ he smiled. ‘While I’ve been doing research for the orchard, the idea kept cropping up. There are plenty of places where it seems to work.’ He shrugged. ‘I think Dad would have liked the idea.’
‘Charlie would have loved it.’
He rested his mug on my knee. ‘What do you think? Will you mind having the whole community hanging about just over the garden fence? Helping themselves to our apples?’
I pursed my lips. ‘I have one major problem with it.’
‘Oh?’
‘What about my arbour?’ I poked him in the stomach with my foot, causing his drink to wobble precariously.
‘I will personally see your arbour relocated to the garden. Around the side of the house where the retreat guests won’t spot it, either.’
‘Hmm…’
‘There’s a corner where the hedge is low enough to see over if you’re sitting down, with a view right across the valley.’
‘Sounds perfect. I give my wholehearted endorsement and support to the Damson Farm community orchard.’
He grabbed my hand, pulling it up to kiss the palm. ‘You did realise the date of the launch?’
‘I know! Our first proper guests arrive two days before Damson Day.’
‘It’ll be a busy month.’
‘Right now, keeping busy might be the only thing that keeps me sane.’
And there it was again, the shadow from my past life leering over us, forever hanging there ominously.
* * *
The next few weeks were indeed jam-packed with our joint ventures. For the first two weeks Daniel was still working full-time while trying to get things started with the orchard, and with Becky and I getting everything ready for the upcoming retreat, we had little time or energy to do much more than share the odd meal, and hand over Hope with a quick kiss and a catch-up. However, as the days rolled by, things were gradually taking shape, transforming before our eyes, and the joy of seeing the finishing touches, final programmes printed and the pantry overflowing with ingredients ready for both events was exhilarating.
An army of locals had been pruning, planting and constructing in the orchard, like some amateur farming version ofDIY SOS. There were now sturdy fences and a beautiful new gate opening onto the footpath that led through the meadow and along the river into the village. By the second week, there were raised beds and a pagoda with benches and tables for the educational area. It turned out that Ziva’s husband, John, was an admin whizz, and he spent hours looking into charity applications and setting up a board of trustees. Various staff from the pubs and takeaways made regular trips bearing drinks and trays of sandwiches or pizza. There was a clear sense of rivalry between the different eateries, but it was gradually becoming a friendly one, and if it meant the food grew better by the day, no one was about to intervene.
