For the first time in months, Darby felt something that might have been hope stirring in her chest. As she tidied the dresser on the far side of the kitchen, she tucked a load of Christmas cards into a drawer and read the top of an envelope, addressed simply with “Darby, Pretty Beach.”
Nodding to herself, Darby ran her finger over the letters on the envelope.Love from Pretty Beachhad just been born.
6
Afew days later, it was just after six in the evening and Darby let herself in through the side gate of her friend Penny’s house, careful not to let it slam behind her. Walking up the block-paved path, she followed it around the side of the house and noted how even in winter, Penny’s garden was glorious and everything was just so. Lovely thick wicker panels lined the beds, hedges were trimmed, old fruit trees covered in little warm white lights, sat in just the right places, and even the pots and their contents somehow appeared to be happy. Darby shuddered at the thought of her garden, which, at best, could be described as an exploration in rewilding and, at worst, a shameful mess. With Penny’s garden laid out in front of her, she very much knew that she needed to up her gardening game.
With a bunch of flowers from the Spar tucked into the crook of her left arm, and a bottle of wine in a brown paper bag in her right, she crossed the terrace and tapped on the kitchen window before taking a few steps to the left and opening the back door to Penny’s kitchen. Penny, Darby's best friend since her school days, was standing at the hob with a tea towel over one shoulder and a wooden spoon in her hand. A speaker played easy-listening jazz in the background and the kitchen smelled ofonions, garlic, post-Christmas festivities and everything else in between.
'Hiya,' Penny turned and beamed.
Darby smiled. 'Sorry, I couldn’t remember if you said six.'
'I said six for half-six, so you’re just right. How are you? Pour yourself a glass. Everyone’s through there in the conservatory.'
Darby whipped her coat off, took a glass from the shelf and found a bottle already open on the table. She poured herself half, left it there for a moment, went to the French doors and as Penny chatted and pottered at the hob, Darby looked out at the garden lit with a run of fairy lights stretching along the fence and a long table sporting outdoor candles in jam jars. ‘It looks lovely out there, even in this weather.’
‘I do my best.’
‘That’s an understatement. I really must get a wriggle on with mine.’
There was a sort of underlying understanding that both of them were dubious about if and when that would happen. ‘Yes. What’s been happening with you?’
Darby heard herself telling fat white lies laced with an upbeat tone. ‘This and that. I’ve been so busy!’
‘Really? Doing what?’
‘Oh, you know. Not a lot and loads at the same time.’ Darbyknewthat Pennyknewthat Darby was stretching the truth.
Penny picked up her wine glass. ‘It’s been like that here. Honestly, we haven't had a moment’s peace. Sometimes I have to wonder why I do it to myself.’
‘Who’s over?’ Darby pointed to the kitchen door. She could hear a few familiar voices. No doubt it would be Penny’s neighbours, Dan and Lucinda, who would probably both be wearing matching Barbour gilets.
Penny picked up a tray sporting olives and fancy, homemade crisps. She nudged Darby towards the door. ‘The usual suspects.Let’s go. Can you grab another bottle of white from the fridge door?’
As they entered Penny’s large second sitting room, which opened into a gloriously open-plan oversized conservatory, Darby internally sighed a little bit as she took in the room. A small gathering of people, all in little smug units of two.Here we go, she thought.Wait for the questions about being single to begin.
Penny turned to Darby. 'You remember Elise?'
Darby nodded. Elise was a dynamic, animated, very pretty, very full of herself friend of Penny’s who had previously owned a successful catering business. Now she taught cookery classes for foodies and hosted retreats in her renovated oast house. Her nails were immaculate and she had a scarf tied around her ponytail that looked as if it had been chosen by a stylist somewhere. Her outfit was curated but also somehow not.
Darby immediately felt shabby, but hoped she didn’t show it. 'Nice to see you again, Elise.'
Elise smiled, picked up an olive, and popped it into her mouth. ‘Hi! So nice to see you, Darby. How are you getting on? Pretty Beach isn’t it now? Goodness, I love it there.’
Darby was surprised Elise had remembered. ‘Same to you. Yes, it is. How are you?’
‘Keeping well, thanks. You’re the one with the grown-up children, aren’t you? Even though you’re still really young. You had them when you were a teenager, gosh! The three of them are out and about in the world now, aren’t they? Penny was telling me the other day. How peaceful it must be. I can only dream.'
Darby did not want to go over the thing where people exclaimed at how young she’d been when she’d had Elly. Young, very stupid and deeply grieving the passing away of her mum. 'Yes, that’s me. It’s quiet, certainly.'
Lucinda, one of Penny’s neighbours who appeared at various gatherings, leaned in from across the sofa. She didn’t bother to say hello, just smiled. 'I can’t wait for mine to leave. You must have so much time to yourself! What do you do with yourself all day long? I’m so jealous!
Darby felt her back teeth lock together. Sometimes she felt as if she hadlesstime. She certainly had less time to listen to other people’s limited views on what she did with her life. ‘Hmm.’
‘You should start a hobby or something.'
That old chestnut, Darby thought to herself. The next thing they’d be suggesting that she start playing golf or bridge. Or join a knitting club.
