Julia Williams 3 Book Bundle

It’s as if she cannot bring herself to love Connie, he recorded in his diary. She is afraid to love her for fear of losing her. So I must love our daughter for both of us.

It was Edward to whom Connie came running when he returned home, when he’d been working away on one of the many gardens he’d been commissioned to landscape. To Edward, that she went crying or calling with her troubles. It was Edward who helped her take her first tottering steps, and listened to her lisp her first words.

Connie rarely bothers her mother, instinctively knowing she is unlikely to look up from the flowers she often draws in the garden and take notice of her. I know that Lily cares for Connie, of course she does, but somehow she cannot manage her in the way that I can. It is as if Lily regards Connie as an exotic creature, somewhat different and distant from herself. I pray in time that will change. But gradually, slowly, my Lily is returning to me. She comes with me regularly into the garden now, and draws plants again, as she once did. Every now and again she laughs at my foibles, and I am reminded of the joy we shared when first we were married, and I am grateful for that at least …

Lily’s diary, May 1898

At last. We have a son. A beautiful, healthy, baby boy. I feel so different this time. When Connie was born, I looked at her little, scrumpled, red face, and my heart was torn in two, so sure was I that she was not long for this world. But despite my fears, she has thrived, is thriving now, and God has seen fit to bless us with a brother for her. A gift that I had not dared hope for. I shall call him Harry after his grandfather. Now I feel my life is complete. After the years of pain and heartache, at last Edward and I have our family, and I can sit in the sunken garden Edward made for me and not feel the need to weep. The sun is shining, summer is here, and my future has been restored to me.

Part Two

Chapter Thirteen

‘The girls go to bed at 7 p.m. sharp,’ said Lauren nervously. It was a month since Christmas, Eileen’s first proper meeting about the summer fete, and the first time she’d allowed Troy to babysit. Over the last few weeks, Lauren had allowed Troy to regularly make the half an hour trip from Crawley, to visit the twins. Lauren had even included him in a very awkward and uncomfortable Christmas lunch with Lauren’s mum (who’d just about been able to keep her thoughts about Troy to herself) and the girls were gradually getting used to their dad being on the scene. Lauren might never have been ready for Troy to take charge for an evening, if her mum hadn’t gone away for some winter sun, leaving her without a babysitter. Troy had been adamant she had nothing to worry about, and Lauren was hoping that her negative thoughts would prove unfounded. If she was going to let Troy back into her children’s lives he had to be alone with them sometime. ‘They really must go to bed then, or they’ll be too tired for school tomorrow.’

‘I know you think I’m useless,’ said Troy, ‘but I think I can manage to get two four-year-olds to bed.’

‘I don’t think you’re useless – well not entirely,’ said Lauren, ‘but you aren’t used to four-year-olds, and I’ve never left them with anyone but Mum and Eileen before.’

‘I’m their dad,’ said Troy, ‘and I’m going to prove to you that I’m worthy of them and you. You’ve got to learn to trust me.’

Despite herself, Lauren had to smile. It was quite funny seeing Troy being so keen to please her, and rather charming in a way. It had always been the other way round before. And Troy was right, if he was going to play a part in the kids’ lives, she had to learn to trust him.

The doorbell rang. It was Kezzie.

‘All ready then?’ she said.

‘Yup,’ said Lauren, firing last minute instructions until Troy pushed her out of the door.

‘You know when you were telling me about Troy, before he pitched up again, you never once mentioned how good looking he was,’ said Kezzie teasingly.

‘Didn’t I? It must have slipped my mind,’ said Lauren. ‘Part of the charm of course. Give me an ugly man any day of the week.’

‘So you’re not planning to get back together?’

‘Absolutely not,’ said Lauren. ‘I’ve let him stay over a couple of times when he’s come to see the girls, because it’s a long way for him to get back to Crawley, but that’s it. He keeps threatening to get a job and move over here, but I’ll believe it when I see it.’

‘I know he came for Christmas lunch,’ said Kezzie, ‘so I couldn’t help wondering, and we haven’t had a chance to catch up since.’ Kezzie had disappeared to Spain to see her parents for a fortnight, and had come back looking bronzed and disgustingly healthy.

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure I’d have been just as nosy if it was the other way round,’ said Lauren. ‘Christmas was only just about bearable. I was treading on eggshells between Troy and Mum and hoping the girls didn’t pick up on it. I don’t think I could cope with a relationship with him. I’m glad Troy’s back for the girls’ sake, but it’s early days, and I’m still not sure it’s going to work.’

They walked down the hill towards the Parish Hall.

‘So is this going to be dreadfully stuffy and dull?’ said Kezzie.

‘Probably,’ said Lauren. ‘But you never know, we might get them to perk up their ideas a bit.’

Eileen was already there when they arrived.

‘Let me introduce you to some people.’ She reeled off a list of names – Lauren knew most of them, having helped out at village fetes before – but Kezzie was clearly slightly overwhelmed by the number of people involved.

‘Is there anyone here under the age of sixty?’ she whispered. ‘We’re the youngest here by centuries.’

‘Wonderful, some new blood. Just what we need,’ declared Tony Symonds, who was a retired bank clerk and chaired the Parish Council with scary efficiency. ‘We really do need to get something done about the Memorial Gardens. Eileen’s been nagging me about it for ages. It’s great that you’re all on board.’

The meeting started late. Several people wandered in noisily at around a quarter to eight, mumbling apologies to Tony, who harrumphed before proceeding to talk about the fete.

‘So this year we’ve decided that the proceeds of the village fete will go to restoring the Heartsease Memorial Garden, in honour of Edward Handford’s 140th anniversary. And we’re delighted to have Edward Handford’s great great grandson, Joel Lyle here. Not only has he promised to open up the knot garden Edward Handford designed at Lovelace Cottage for the day of the fete, I believe he is also going to provide some wonderful and fascinating material for a Handford exhibition on the day.’

Joel, who’d snuck in among the latecomers, looked mortified to have been picked out, but smiled graciously anyway.

‘All right, to business,’ said Tony. ‘Has anyone got any ideas about how the summer fete should be run this year?’

‘The same way we always run it,’ said Cynthia Green, the grumpiest woman in Heartsease. ‘It works, so why change it?’

‘Well, I was hoping we could do a few things differently,’ said Tony, ‘given that we’re celebrating Edward Handford’s 140th anniversary. I think we need to make it more of an event, shake it up a bit. Eileen, I believe you have some ideas?’

‘I do,’ said Eileen, looking a little pink and flustered. ‘I think we could be a bit more ambitious. In fact, a lot more. Rather than just have a fete for the village, why not widen its appeal and call it a Summer Fest like Chiverton does? We could make it an all day event. By all means let’s have the normal stalls, but why not close off the High Street, have street entertainers, get some music going, have a farmers’ market. Let’s really show people what Heartsease is all about.’

‘It will never work,’ sniffed Cynthia.

‘Why not?’ said Eileen. ‘We won’t know until we try.’

‘And we should have a celebrity to open proceedings,’ said Kezzie.

‘The charity I work for has some contacts with celebrities,’ said Joel. ‘I could always fish around a bit if you like, and see if we can get someone to open the fete for us.’

‘Celebrities!’ snorted Cynthia. ‘We don’t need nonsense like that.’

‘I think it’s a great idea,’ said Tony. ‘It will bring in the young people. Joel, if you’re prepared to find out about it for us that would be fantastic.’

‘We could run a competition for the best design for the play area,’ suggested Lauren.

‘And we could start planting out now, try and tidy it up,’ chipped in Kezzie.

‘What about Health and Safety?’ objected a little pinched woman sitting next to Cynthia. ‘There are those old oak trees in the Memorial Gardens that are a real menace. They should come down.’

‘So get a tree feller,’ said Kezzie. ‘I know a couple.’

‘Hmm, I’m not sure,’ interjected a small man who was clearly attached like a limpet to the pinched-looking woman. ‘It seems like a lot of extra work.’

‘Well, that’s not a priority for now,’ said Tony. ‘Sorry, Kezzie, we’ll get to it later I’m sure. Now let’s move on to considering the kinds of stalls we want.’

A good-tempered and long-winded discussion about the pros and cons of homemade ice cream ensued. Lauren caught Joel yawning and grinned. She knew there was a good reason why she’d resisted joining the committee …

‘Can you believe that?’ Kezzie was incandescent with rage. ‘They talked about the price of ice creams for half an hour. And no one made any decisions about the Memorial Gardens. I can’t believe we can’t just go and tidy it up.’

‘Welcome to village life,’ grinned Lauren. ‘At least we got through the idea of making the event bigger, thanks to Eileen.’