‘Fair enough. But the rest of these: only watch TV if it’s something you genuinely like; declutter; learn how to love Libby Donahue, or at least start acting like it. I love this list. You’ll be back to old Libby in no time. No. You’ll be anewLibby. One shaped by ten years of work and motherhood.’
‘That’s the plan.’
She got up to keep walking.
‘Do you think I can do it?’
‘Declutter the cottage? I’ll help if you like.’
She turned back when I didn’t reply, quickly assessing my anxious expression.
‘Change your life, one small yet significant choice at a time? Become more like the woman and mum you want to be?’ She reached out a hand to pull me up, rolling her eyes. ‘If those Bloomers can do it, you certainly can.’
I hesitated.
‘Don’t suggest for one second that you think our Bloomers can’t make it. I’ve not wasted all that time, money and tears on one of Libby’s over-optimistic delusions.’
‘Well, given that the woman Josie wants to be is Beyoncé, I don’t think it’s quite the same.’
We laughed so hard it sent echoes vibrating through the leaves above our heads.
26
The next few days jostled and lurched along like a fawn taking her first few steps.
Sunday, Toby spent on college work while the kids and I tackled the mounds of junk in the hallway – that way, if Mum turned up and I decided to shut the door in her face, she’d only get to see a pristine hallway. Finn and Isla started enthusiastically, waned about three minutes in, and spent the rest of the afternoon being distracted by random things they found – ‘My old wellies! A dinosaur with no head!’ – then refocussed with the promise of ice creams once we’d finished.
I should have prepared myself for the dismal walls and battered flooring that emerged from underneath all the mess, but Toby promised me that a coat of paint, a polish and a new lampshade would make all the difference.
Sunday evening was batch cooking and organising for the week ahead, and on Monday various Bloomers had a go at soothing a crotchety baby Hazel while Toby kept his promise about the hallway.
Dad was momentarily stunned when he brought the kids home from school, until he wandered into the kitchen and realised the transformation was merely hallway deep.
‘You can reassure Janet that we now have a working oven, landing light and shower,’ I said, offering him iced coffee, because it was far too warm for a hot cup of tea today.
Dad looked confused. ‘I’m not sure Janet would be interested. Just because we’ve started spending time together, I don’t tell her every little thing about my daughters’ lives. Is that the kind of thing your friends talk about?’
‘What friends?’
His bushy eyebrows bounced up and down. ‘Well, apart from Toby and Shanice… I heard you had dinner at the Ruddy Duck with a friend last week. Or is the mysterious stranger something more?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake. Who told you that?’ I knew the Bigley grapevine was good, but that was ridiculous.
‘Janet’s cleaner’s daughter works behind the bar there.’
‘So you do talk about me?’
Dad smiled. ‘Millie was wondering if your friend had moved to the village and, if so, was he single.’
Oof.Millie was one of Nicky’s wild-swimming friends. She was working at the Ruddy Duck while studying for her PhD in something to do with the economics of sustainable farming. A few years younger than me, but light-years more interesting. She designed her own clothes from recycled fabrics, had a side business making chutney from her allotment and was totally the kind of woman to assertively pursue a man she found attractive, given the limited supply in Bigley Bottom.
The jolt of jealousy I felt at the thought of Millie and Jonah rendered me speechless.
‘Ah. More than a friend, then.’
‘Not even a friend, at this point,’ I managed to reply after a slow sip of coffee. I was nowhere near ready to tell Dad it was Jonah. ‘Someone whose sister’s joined the Bloomers and he’s her birth partner. He wanted my advice on a few things, that’s all.’
‘So can Janet pass on the good news that he’s available?’ Dad blinked nonchalantly over the rim of his glass.
