Pastures New

‘I can see you’re going to be a favoured guest,’ she said. ‘Mummy is normally too busy to play trains.’

‘Ah, well, that’s Mummy’s prerogative,’ said Harry. ‘And my pleasure.’

‘You’re very good with him,’ Amy said, watching how naturally Josh played. Josh didn’t warm to everyone, and it was rare for him to latch on to a stranger like this. ‘Do you have grandchildren?’

‘No.’ Harry’s smile was tinged with sadness. ‘Unfortunately, my wife and I weren’t able to have children.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Amy.

‘No need to be, my dear,’ said Harry. ‘We had a happy and full life together.’

Amy, who had acquired an instinct for picking up on these things since Jamie’s death, asked, ‘Had?’

‘My wife died a few years ago,’ said Harry, a shadow passing across his face.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Amy again, and meant it. She felt an immediate kinship with this man, stranger though he was, and yet, even though she shared his grief, it was still hard to know what to say. ‘You must get very lonely.’

‘Well, sometimes,’ said Harry. ‘But I have my army reunions, and lots of friends here. And there’s a great deal of support to be found on the allotments, as I’m sure you will discover. I survive somewhat better than everyone had predicted.’

‘I shall have to take lessons from you in being positive,’ replied Amy. ‘Jamie, my …’ – she was going to say partner, and then paused, wondering whether Harry would approve of her unmarried status – ‘Josh’s dad died two and a half years ago, and this is a big move for me.’

‘Oh my dear, how very sad for you,’ sympathised Harry.

Amy felt herself dissolve into floods of tears. She couldn’t do this. She just couldn’t. It was a dreadful mistake. There was no way she was going to manage on her own. That song was right. Her life would always be autumn now – because Jamie wasn’t there, and however much she longed for him, he never could be again.

CHAPTER THREE (#ucbc138ca-5a91-5c68-9048-283e0ab6e0cf)

Amy took a deep breath, and tried to get a grip. This was mortifying. Here she was blubbing in front of a total stranger. Luckily, once she and Harry had got chatting, Josh pronounced the conversation ‘Grown up, boring’, and disappeared upstairs.

‘Oh I am sorry.’ Harry patted Amy awkwardly on the back. ‘I didn’t mean to distress you.’

He proffered a hankie, which Amy accepted gratefully.

‘You haven’t,’ said Amy. ‘I’m just being silly.’

‘It’s not silly at all,’ answered Harry, ‘but quite natural.’ His gentle concern brought fresh tears to Amy’s eyes, but she managed a watery smile.

‘I’m not usually like this,’ Amy said. ‘I think it’s just with the move and everything … I suddenly feel so alone.’

‘And however many friends you have, once you shut that door at night, you’re on your own.’ Harry nodded sympathetically. ‘It is very hard, but it will get better, in time.’

‘Will it? I keep thinking it’s going to, but then, like now, I feel I’ve gone back to square one again. I feel I’m never going to stop wanting him back.’

‘You probably won’t.’ Harry’s response was simple. ‘I think about my Mavis every day, but I am still alive, and although it isn’t the life we had, it is the life I have now. You’re still young, Amy, you have Josh. You have a lot to live for. Do you think Jamie would want you to be mourning him forever?’

‘No, definitely not,’ said Amy. ‘But I don’t know. It sounds so corny. What we had was amazing. I doubt I’ll ever find it again.’

‘You might not,’ said Harry. ‘But you must make it your business to learn to be happy again. You won’t ever stop missing him, but that doesn’t mean you can’t smile sometimes.’

Amy felt her spirits lift a little. It was so wonderful to have someone who understood – so often people she knew were embarrassed and awkward and shied away from talking about how she was. Or they assumed that after all this time, she would be over it – like you got over the flu. Or, worse still, some of their so-called friends had dropped her altogether. It was as if she had some nasty disease that might be catching. There was even the faint suggestion from one or two girlfriends, to whom she had thought she was close, that somehow she was now likely to make a play for their husbands.

They had no idea of what was really going through her head – or, more importantly, her heart. So Amy had learned to smile and hide her pain so that no one knew it was there any longer. It was a relief to talk to someone who was so refreshingly direct about it.

‘You’re absolutely right, of course,’ said Amy. ‘It’s not always easy to be so positive, though.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ said Harry. ‘And believe you me, I still have my dark nights of the soul. But I just grit my teeth and try to get through them. There is always another dawn. Now, I’m afraid I really must be going, as I’m off to lunch with some friends. Please feel free to pop in at any time. I’m usually about.’

‘Thanks, Harry, I might just do that,’ said Amy. ‘You’ve been very kind.’

‘Ah well, I just like to be neighbourly,’ said Harry. ‘Mavis would have had my guts for garters if I wasn’t.’

Amy laughed and saw Harry to the door, just as Josh came flying down demanding to be fed. One thing about children was their needs always had to come first. And sometimes, when life threatened to become overwhelming, that was a very good thing.

Saffron was running late, as usual. Matt and Becky were being so slow this morning, and Ellie had kept her up all night. Added to which, she had made the mistake of stopping to listen to Wogan’s musings on the subject of mums driving 4x4s. She had been laughing so much she had forgotten the time. It was only Monday, and they were going to be late. Bugger, how did she always manage that?

‘Kids, hurry up,’ she called as she loaded Ellie into the buggy.

The trouble was that the children were still exhausted from Florida, so getting them up this morning had been a complete nightmare. She had so much on her plate at the moment, the last thing she needed was the kids being late for school.

Her other major headache – how to regain the trust of her clients and rebuild the business – was also not going away, despite her and Pete’s best efforts. But he was right to point out that she couldn’t do it alone, and while he was immensely supportive, he couldn’t run the business for her. But who on earth was she going to find to help her out? None of her mum friends were into gardening. Perhaps she should do as Pete had suggested and advertise. Thank God, at least, for Pete. He had been so fantastic, she had to hold on to that. Gerry would have given her no encouragement at all.

What were the children doing? She had sent them upstairs ten minutes ago, to brush their teeth, and they had disappeared.

‘Children, come downstairs NOW! We’re going to be late,’ Saffron yelled up the stairs, picking up assorted PE kits and book bags as she did so.

‘Do you really need to shout that loud first thing?’ Pete was halfway down the stairs still doing his tie. Their relationship was still new enough for Saffron’s heart to skip a beat when she saw him. Pete looked gorgeous even though his hair was all mussed up and he looked half-asleep. Still adjusting to this parenting lark, he hadn’t quite got to grips with sleepless nights.

‘If I didn’t shout, we’d never get anywhere,’ said Saffron, giving him a kiss. After the misery of her marriage to Gerry, she still had to pinch herself to believe that she could have been so lucky as to have found Pete, even with the permanent weight lodged in the pit of her stomach about their lack of sex life.

As if by magic, two pairs of feet thundered down the stairs, and Becky and Matt presented themselves to her, both blaming the other for their tardiness.

‘Not interested,’ grumbled Saffron. ‘Come on, we’ve got to go – now!’ Kissing Pete goodbye again, she hauled coats on and shoved the children out of the door. If they ran, there was an outside chance they could make it.

As she approached the corner of her road, opposite the little country churchyard she cut through every day on the way to school, she spotted another pair of latecomers hurrying up the road that ran at right-angles to her own. It was a woman she didn’t recognise and a little boy about Matt’s age. The woman looked a bit perplexed, as if she weren’t quite sure of the way.

Saffron smiled as they met at the corner to cross over – in the three years she had been walking to school with Becky she had discovered that the children didn’t moan so much if they had a friend to walk with. As she had only recently managed to prise Matt from the buggy (the arrival of Ellie had been the key turning point, and four months later he was still sore about it), Saffron hoped that finding a friend on the walk to school might prove to be a help.

‘Hi,’ said Saffron as they waited to cross the road. ‘This your first day?’

‘Yup.’ The stranger smiled. ‘Josh and I only moved here on Saturday. And despite poring over maps all weekend, I think I’m a bit lost.’

‘Follow me,’ said Saffron. ‘We cut through the graveyard every day. The school’s at the bottom of the hill on the other side, about five minutes from the high street.’

‘Great,’ said the stranger with a grateful smile. She was pretty, thought Saffron – and also, she noted jealously, incredibly thin.

‘I’m Saffron Cairns, by the way, and this is Becky and Matt. Matt’s starting in Miss Burrows’ class today.’

‘Amy Nicolson,’ said Amy. ‘Josh is in Miss Burrows’ class too.’