Hattie smiled, zipping up her jacket. ‘I can’t wait to find out.’
* * *
How did a bunch of forty-, fifty- and thirty-something humans construct nests in which to hatch their hopes and dreams? Two hours later, all was revealed. Along with the usual explanation for our creations, Hattie asked us to sum up our therapy journey, and, speaking a little louder than usual so we could hear her from where we were squatting in our own nests around the fire pit, Kalani had offered to go first.
She’d lugged four of the logs that were usually placed around the fire pit for seating into a sort of square shape, only angled to leave a large gap on one side. Inside was a haphazard pile of bracken, leaves and grass.
‘I’m keeping it simple here, Gals, for the reasons stated before about my lack of nest-building DNA. You all know the journey I’ve been on already, and what I need to do to keep it going. So, I’m leaving the door to my messy innards a little wider open. I’m mentally trying to become more open to my home becoming a little messier, too. I answered the door to a delivery driver with no make-up on the other day and he didn’t scream in horror. I went back to the support group for survivors of sexual assault and I even shared a bit. And…’ She took a deep breath. ‘I invited Tye round for a meal and he said yes.’
‘Of course he blummin’ well said yes!’ Laurie yelled.
‘About time, too!’ Deirdre whooped.
Hattie smiled so hard, she almost looked well again.
Laurie’s nest was more like a den. A pretty impressive structure of branches all propped up in a point like a tepee. She’d grabbed a blanket from her car to cover the ground, added a flask of coffee and lay back with her eyes closed, a Lizzo song playing on her phone as she talked.
‘Gals, these past few weeks have changed my life. Literally. Every single day is different from how it was before.I’mcompletely different. My kids don’t recognise this new, non-doormat, ex-control-freak of a mother. This very morning, Flora messaged from school to say she’d forgotten her PE kit and if I didn’t bring it in, she’d get a detention, and I replied with, “That’s a shame. I’ll be out by the time you come back from a detention so I hope you’ve not forgotten your key, too”. Howard is not sorry that his wife has a bit of energy left over when she slides into bed at night, rather than collapsing face first into the pillow. It’s small changes, Gals. Hiring a cleaner for a couple of hours. A care assistant for Dad. A washing-up rota. No more clearing up pigeon poop. And a little time and space in a metaphorical tent just for me.’
After cheering Laurie’s small-yet-mighty changes, Deirdre showed us her heart-shaped creation.
‘Room for someone else in that love nest.’ Kalani winked.
‘Perhaps,’ Deirdre said, with a coy smile. ‘But right now, I don’t mind either way. I’m learning to love myself again. I know looks aren’t what matter most, but I’d given up on myself, and it showed. Somehow, starting with changing the outside helped me realise who I wanted to be, and then make changes on the inside, too. I’ve got one day left at that tedious job before I get to start working for one of my best mates, Kurt at the butcher’s keeps giving me free meat,andI bought some new cushions. I’m not doing what’s safest, or easiest, or the same old thing I’ve always done any more. I’m choosing to do the things I love because I’m one of those things. Along with all of you. I’m so grateful you kept loving me even when I was choosing to be totally pathetic.’
It was my turn. The other Gals decided to leave their own nests because they needed a closer look at mine. I wasn’t surprised. It was exquisite, if I do say so myself. I’d woven spindly branches into a basic circle structure, then raided both the flower beds and Hattie’s studio, creating a sort of giant version of a floral bridal crown. Almost every inch was covered in greenery, interspersed with both real and paper flowers in a range of bright colours, and fairy lights.
At regular intervals around the circle, imitating where the numbers would be if the circle were a clock, were pink and yellow roses. At twelve o’clock, with trembling fingers, I had attached a single white rose.
I took a deep breath, wiped pointlessly at the tears already rolling down my face, and sat up straight inside my nest.
‘I think this is the future I want.’ I stopped, shook my head. Took another breath. ‘That’s not true. Iknowit is. It’s going to take time, and probably a whole lot more therapy, but I’m not living surrounded by grief any more. Mine or anybody else’s. I choose life, and living, and daring to love again. I’m good at my job, but I wasgreatat floristry, at creating the perfect designs to celebrate someone’s hopes for the future. Not holding their hand as they mourned the past. I’m going to plant a garden. I’m going to grow roses. I’m not letting fear decide who I am any more. I’m choosing love.’
Whew, we Gals had one raucous, rip-roaring celebration that evening.
We celebrated friendship, and new beginnings, and the power of arting it out.
We celebrated my plans to tell Gideon that I was staying because I loved him.
And if Hattie fell off her kitchen table at one point, well, as she told us once we’d dragged her back off the floor again, ‘No shame in falling, as long as you get back up’.
* * *
I decided to wait until the party to tell Gideon that I was going to stay. Partly because I needed to have a lot more conversations with Ezra about how and when I could start dismantling my business, and what kind of funds would be available for me to set up a brand-new life for myself. Hattie had invited me to stay at Riverbend after the project was complete, and I wanted to be there for her, but once our contract was over, it was only right that I paid rent and contributed my fair share of household expenses. I also had to consider what would happen if –when– she died. We hadn’t got as far as discussing her will yet, but if Riverbend was left to Gideon, her only close relative, I did wonder what would happen to the boathouse.
There was another big reason why I was putting off talking to Gideon. I was acutely aware that he, along with several other people, was expecting some sort of book at the end of this project. I still had the hurdle of him discovering that I wasn’t quite who we’d made me out to be and, to make things more complicated, I’d now been keeping Hattie’s illness a secret, too. If I waited until he knew about Hattie, then at least we could have an honest conversation about what I might do next.
There was a third, and final reason to delay telling him. Quite frankly, I was still terrified. Terrified of loving someone, of opening up my heart to being broken again, so needing a week or so to steady my nerves was only natural.
The next ten days were full of party planning and floristry designing, taking care of Hattie and our dogs, and loving Gideon while trying to pretend I hadn’t quite fallen in love with him yet.
And a coffee at Scarlett’s with Stella and Karen, who ran Maid Marian’s Garlands. Karen burst out laughing when she saw me. It turned out she’d been one of the Changelings and had found my accidental intrusions into their therapy sessions hilarious.
‘Some of those women really need to tone down their paranoia. They’d probably blame it on the menopause, along with every other piddling mistake they’ve made in the past ten years, but I’ve known Morag Burrows since primary school, and she’s always been like that.’ She shook her head, laughing even more. ‘That group was fantastic, though, once we got all the whingeing out of the way. We started out feeling like a bunch of has-beens and finished it ready for anything. Isn’t Hattie amazing? It’s impossible to spend any time with her and not end up the better for it.’
I was hesitant to accept their offer of a permanent job, given how much Hattie might be needing me once her chemotherapy began, but if I was ever up for some work on a freelance basis, I should give them a call, and we could take it from there.
The next day, with a lump in my throat, I gave them a call and booked myself in to help with some bouquets and a floral arch for a wedding in June.
