Contents

Title Page

About the Book

Part Three: A Winter Wish

Chapter One: Sam

Chapter Two: Veronica

Chapter Three: Audrey

Chapter Four: Audrey

Chapter Five: Sam

Chapter Six: Audrey

Chapter Seven: Veronica

About the Author

Copyright

About the Book

This is part three in a heartwarming four-part serial from Helen Rolfe, author of The Little Village Library.

A little kindness can go a long way …

Veronica’s cottage is the neatest house on Mapleberry Lane. A place for everything, and everything in its place – that’s her motto. But within her wisteria-covered walls, Veronica has a secret: she’s hardly left her perfect home in years.

Then her teenage granddaughter, Audrey, arrives on her doorstep, and Veronica’s orderly life is turned upside down. With a little help from the residents of Mapleberry Lane, Audrey forms a plan to help her gran reconnect with the community: a kindness club, carrying out one generous action a day to make their world a better place – and perhaps help each other at the same time.

As their small acts of kindness begin to ripple through the village, both Veronica and Audrey find that with each passing day, they feel a little braver. There’s just one task left before the end of the year: to make Veronica’s own secret wish come true …

The Kindness Club on Mapleberry Lane is an uplifting story with community at its heart, about the little kindnesses that make the world a better place. This is Part Three.

PART THREE

A Winter Wish

Chapter One

Sam

Sam made herself a cup of tea and cradled it against her chest, the heat warming her through her dressing gown; her mum’s old house didn’t have quite the same level of insulation as she’d been used to in her previous home. It was early December, the weather had well and truly turned, and already Sam had no doubt they’d be enjoying the open fire in the lounge today. The good thing, if there was one, about her mum never leaving the house was that it was never a waste of time lighting a fire; it would be appreciated and watched over the entire day.

Winter frost set the scene in the back garden of Number Nine Mapleberry Lane as Sam stood looking out of the kitchen window. A dusting of white glistened on trees and shrubs when the sun shone down and already Sam suspected it was going to be one of those beautiful crisp days you could watch for ever. A robin redbreast came to perch on the bird table, disrupting the frost which scattered to the ground.

‘Always makes me think of Christmas.’ Veronica had crept downstairs so softly Sam hadn’t heard her. Or maybe she’d just been in a world of her own.

‘What does?’

‘The robin.’

‘That’s right, your Christmas card every year has a robin as part of the design.’ Sam watched the bird as its little head kept flicking left to right, beady eyes taking everything in and spindly legs ready to take flight whenever it liked. Her mum’s cards weren’t exactly the same every year, there was always some variation. Perhaps it was a robin with its breast as vibrant as the pillar box it stood on top of, or the bird was perched on a log covered in snow, or maybe it was nestled among holly and big red berries.

Veronica’s celebrations of Christmas included sending cards, to whom Sam had no idea, but very little else. Or at least that’s how Sam remembered it. Sam had been the one to put up the tree when her mum retreated into herself all those years ago, it had been Sam who organised presents to be around the tree so it was some semblance of normality for everyone. She had no idea what her mum did now to mark the occasion.

Veronica made a cup of tea for herself. ‘Audrey won’t be up for ages yet. Teenagers sleep for hours – I remember those days.’

Soon it wouldn’t affect Sam quite as much because yesterday she’d finally signed on the dotted line for a one-bedroom flat. Audrey was to stay with her gran for the time being while she finished school and although Sam had been resistant at first, she’d wondered whether a little distance between them could end up bringing them closer in the long run. Audrey had certainly seemed very happy with the idea.

‘You need to tell her, Sam.’

Sam didn’t need to ask what her mum was referring to. She knew, and she’d put it off for a long while now, ever since the autumn. Her ex-husband, Simon, seemed to be leaving it up to her to tell their fifteen-year-old daughter that although he had this wonderful new life in New Zealand, he didn’t want her to go over there to join him. No doubt Simon was worried about what this would do to his relationship with his new wife and children but Sam liked to think he was also concerned about Audrey. And so he should be, it was his fault she’d been so wrapped up in the idea in the first place, whether it was intentional or not. If he’d said from the start that she was better off in the UK at least until she was much older, if he hadn’t filled her head with all these images of a life that seemed out of reach, then Sam wouldn’t be having this dilemma now.

‘She’s only just started talking to me more,’ said Sam. The robin had hopped off somewhere else while she’d been distracted.

‘None of this is your fault – it’s Simon’s.’

‘You really think she’ll see it that way?’ Sam tipped the dregs of her tea into the sink and rinsed her cup, looking out again to see the robin this time perched on the highest point of the frosty rockery at the end of the garden. ‘It’s beautiful out there today.’

‘It’s what you might call a perfect winter’s day,’ said Veronica. ‘I can’t wait for it to snow, that muffled effect I can feel even inside the house.’

Sam didn’t often mention her mum’s agoraphobia. She’d always known what it was; she’d covered similar topics in her degree course as well as picking up enough from literature she’d read when she tried in vain to cope with it, at a time when all she wanted was her mother back, but understanding and sympathising was different when applying it to your own family, especially when its effect on you had been so powerful.

‘How about we walk to the end of the garden together later?’ Sam suggested.

Veronica hesitated. ‘I’ll see. Maybe.’

Sam sighed. ‘I wish you’d get some help.’

‘Leave it, Sam. I’m happy as I am. Content. Old.’

‘You’re not fooling me or anyone else.’ Sam could see plenty, apart from the new hairdo – fear, worry, all etched into her expression even when she was smiling. Sam had noticed Audrey trying to coax her gran into doing more, becoming a part of the bigger world hovering outside the doors of her home. Or were they trying to fix something that couldn’t be fixed? ‘I’m going to go for a long walk round to the fields today to see the big Christmas tree. I walked the other way to the community centre last night so I didn’t get to see it.’ There’d been no talk as yet of having a tree in the house and Sam didn’t like to mention it too often.

‘You’ll enjoy it. I’m hoping the Facebook residents group has lots of photos on there.’

‘How are you enjoying the new group?’ Audrey had got her gran involved in the online Mapleberry Village Residents Group and Veronica seemed to have got into the swing of it. ‘Did you see the photos of the community mosaic wall?’

‘They’re impressive. I did my best to spot my crockery in pieces but…’

Sam smiled at Veronica’s little joke. The community mosaic wall that separated the local community centre from the road had been a Mapleberry project for months. Locals had smashed up old plates, bowls, teapots, mugs – whatever they could get their hands on. And those pieces were glued into place in the shape of flowers, leaves, grass, a couple of butterflies and even a gnome, making the most glorious colourful garden scene up against what had once been a rather dull wall. Last night had been the grand unveiling and although Sam hadn’t got to go with Audrey, she’d seen her face through the crowds, looking on and glad to have been involved in the destruction of china as well as adding her creative flair to some of the tallest flowers.

‘The photos don’t do it justice,’ said Sam, ‘it’s wonderful, really colourful. A little bit of summer even though we’re now into winter.’ She almost wished she’d been in the right head space to help with it along the way, but seeing the finished results would have to be enough.

‘I could easily waste a lot of time looking at everyone’s posts and photos if I’m not careful,’ said Veronica before Sam took her turn in the bathroom while it was free.

Sam left the house less than an hour later, bundled up in a midnight blue wool coat with a grape-coloured bobble hat and matching scarf as well as ankle boots lined with so much fur it made her feel as though she had a pair of slippers on. The high street across the way was ready for the season. Although not lit up now, even at a distance Sam could see the lights that had been strung from lampposts; as the day went on and the sunlight faded, the darkness would give the illuminations their full effect. Shopfronts had twinkly lights around their windows and the pub in the distance had enough lights around the entrance, it would be like a beacon come nightfall. The café was kitted out for the festive season too and along with the winter-themed menu they had fairy lights strung along the walls, a tree in one corner with multi-coloured twinkle lights and Christmas music played softly in the background, lulling customers into a relaxed, cosy environment they didn’t want to leave. Clare had even added a deep grey sofa to one corner as well as an armchair that was a customer favourite, and Veronica had knitted some lovely charcoal cushions to go on them both. Charlie, however, always stuck to his favoured table by the window each time he came in.

The wind lay low and as Sam turned the corner towards the field, the same green where she and local kids had played rounders every summer, a big smile spread across her face. She hadn’t seen the Mapleberry Village tree in years. Not visible from the café when she finished work, this was her first chance to see it in all its glory since the big switch on a few days ago. She’d heard plenty about it from those coming into the Mapleberry Mug, but seeing it for herself was something else entirely. She crossed the grass, frost crunching beneath her feet, and she put out a hand to touch the branches, just like she had when her parents, and later just her dad, had brought her here. The spiky pine needles left their scent on her gloves and put a smile on her face.

Footsteps behind her made her turn and a big smile greeted her. ‘Feels like Christmas, doesn’t it?’ Charlie, wrapped up with his collar grazing his jaw, reached out to touch the tree himself. ‘Not long until the big day.’ He pushed his hands back into the pockets of his navy jacket.

‘What brings you here this morning?’ She watched his breath come out white against the cold air.

‘I’ve worked overtime for a few days – this was my first chance to see the tree. And I couldn’t coop myself up at home when it’s such a lovely day. Look at that sky.’

‘I know, that’s exactly why I couldn’t stay in the house any longer.’ It was little moments like this that made her heart clench to know her mum only ever got to experience the changes in weather, the hopping from one season to the next, from behind glass or at best, up to the perimeter of her house. Coming here had been a real family affair, once upon a time. ‘I’m hoping for snow this year. I don’t normally wish for it, it creates havoc on the roads and getting to and from work becomes a nightmare. But this year…’ she tilted her head back in the direction of the high street.

‘You’ve got such a terrible commute – I don’t know how you do it. I mean, the café must be all of a few hundred metres from home,’ he teased.

When he stood beside her, the sleeve of his coat brushed against her arm and even though there was too much material between them to feel much of a difference, she felt a jolt at how close he was. Charlie had certainly been a pleasant bonus when it came to starting over in Mapleberry although for a long time Sam had been reluctant to let her feelings towards him show when she felt sure Audrey wouldn’t like it. Then there was the fact she’d likely leave the area soon enough. True, she had a flat lined up now, but Audrey’s feelings had to come first.… Still, it didn’t stop her enjoying his company whenever she could, appreciating the moments as they came along, the warmth of his smile, the kindness in his voice that had the power to settle her.

‘I’m all for snow this year too,’ he announced. ‘I’ve got a fortnight off over Christmas. But I’m hoping for the kind of snow that keeps people indoors with their families and not on the roads, then whoever is out in the ambulance won’t be as busy.’

‘It must be hard when you work over Christmas. How does Layla cope?’

‘She gets it, she’s understanding for an eight-year-old. I try to have every other Christmas off if I can manage it, and if I’m working and we’re quiet, sometimes I sneak in to say hello. I managed to pop in on her and Veronica last year.’

‘She went to Mum’s for Christmas?’

‘I thought Veronica might have mentioned it.’

Sam shook her head. ‘We’ve started to talk a lot more, but not about Christmas.’ Her attention was drawn back to the big tree, wondering what it would look like tonight, bedecked in all its glory, lights showing off the chosen ice-pink and silver baubles, the soft pink ribbons tied to branches. ‘Mum stopped celebrating Christmas properly a long time ago. Unless that’s all changed.’

‘I don’t think it has,’ Charlie confided. ‘But I was stuck last year and you know Veronica, she stepped in.’

Actually Sam didn’t know Veronica as a person who had ever been able to save the day, at least until now, until she and Audrey had landed themselves on her. Sam often wondered why she’d really done it. She probably could’ve managed with Audrey up in Cheshire, but maybe subconsciously she’d thought it time to test whether her mum could ever be a part of their lives again.

‘Do you mind your mum being so close to Layla?’ He must’ve misread her reaction, the surprise that Veronica had been able to step up and help out.

‘Not at all – it’s nice she has her, and you too.’

‘Last Christmas Veronica did the big Christmas day dinner with pigs in blankets – I provided the food so didn’t leave her much choice – as well as a chocolate yule log Layla got to help with, so she stepped up to save the day with my daughter by letting her be as festive as she wanted to be. They watched three movies that day and Layla was as happy as ever when I collected her. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if your mum hadn’t helped – paid through the nose for a babysitter no doubt and it wouldn’t have been the same. Layla felt like she had family and wasn’t deserted.’

‘That’s nice. I’m glad for Layla and for Mum.’ She was beginning to see that as much as she thought she knew her mum and her ways, there was so much she still didn’t understand.

‘I wasn’t sure what kind of neighbours I’d end up with when I moved to Mapleberry but Veronica was a complete surprise. I hope you know that we watch out for her as though she’s a part of our family.’

‘I’m beginning to see that.’

‘Layla hugs her all the time now,’ he smiled. ‘I think she was wary at first, but it was always going to happen sooner or later.’ They moved away from the tree when others came to admire it and they wanted their conversation to remain private. ‘May I ask why your mum doesn’t celebrate Christmas? She sends cards but other than that, I don’t think she does anything.’

‘It’s kind of a long story.’

‘Layla is at a friend’s house for lunch so I’m free all day. How about we head to the café and get ourselves warm?’ He was smiling at her in the way he always did, the way that somehow told Sam he wouldn’t judge, he’d listen, he’d understand.

Clare would love that; she was forever teasing Sam about how often Charlie came to the café, most likely so he could see her. But Clare wasn’t working today. ‘You’re on. We’ve just started serving festive treats that are ridiculously bad for the waistline.’

‘In that case, show me the way!’

Inside the Mapleberry Mug, they sat at Charlie’s usual table. While Sam hung her coat on the back of the chair, he went up to the counter to order two hazelnut hot chocolates.

‘I had them put the whipped cream in a dish on the side,’ he said when he came back with the tray. ‘Might be a bit sickly otherwise.’ He took off his layers and they settled in by the window, the low hum of conversation blanketing the café so they could talk privately.

It was time for Sam to make an admission. ‘I’m pleased you and Layla are so close to Mum,’ she began. ‘We rarely talked before I sent Audrey down here, and when I realised she wasn’t as alone as I’d first thought, it made me feel less of a terrible daughter. What?’ She met his gaze. ‘Surely you’re not going to claim otherwise. You knew I existed, right? You must have had an opinion.’

‘I tried to not think anything,’ he replied, diplomatic as ever. ‘Veronica never said a word against you. But she did mention you from time to time. She never went into detail but I’ve been around enough to know that what we see on the surface isn’t necessarily what we should believe.’

‘Well, Layla is very good for her,’ said Sam.

‘And so is Audrey.’

‘I don’t think that was the case when Audrey first hurtled her way into Mapleberry. Off my hands, but into Mum’s, and it sounds as though sparks really did fly.’ She added a dollop of the cream and stirred it through her hot chocolate making it a little richer but not too sickly.

‘It was hard for them both at the start, I believe – Layla filled me in on a few confrontations. But Audrey soon began to slot in. And over time Layla and I came to think of Veronica’s home as having two people living in it rather than just one.’

‘Does Layla ask about Mum’s problems?’

‘The agoraphobia? Layla and I talked about it from the start. You know what kids are like, she just asked me outright: “Why doesn’t Veronica ever leave her house?” We talked about anxiety, the feeling Layla gets when she has to stand up in front of the class and talk out loud. She’s always a little afraid of that. I told her it was like that except on a much bigger scale and it makes Veronica scared to even leave her own house. Layla got upset at the thought of Veronica being frightened, but I think she’s made it her mission to look after her.’

‘You must think I’m ten times worse, if an eight-year-old gets it and sticks around.’

When he reached out and his fingers rested on top of hers, she wanted to savour his touch, something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

‘Sam, I don’t think it’s that simple. You and your mum have a history; Layla and I don’t have anything other than what we have now. We all went into this friendship knowing the boundaries from the start. Believe me when I say, nobody is judging you.’

Sam wished he hadn’t taken his hand away. She wondered, did her body language give the game away and show she was fast developing feelings for him?

She stirred her hazelnut hot chocolate some more and added in more cream she wasn’t sure she even wanted. ‘Seeing the village tree today… Well, it makes me even more sad that Mum never sees it. She used to love it. The Mapleberry Village Big Switch On was the title on the leaflet that sailed through the door every winter around this time of year. We’d wrap up warm, take our torches to find our way across the field and wait for the crowds to applaud as the lights reached all the way up into the sky.’

‘When did she stop going?’

‘I’m not completely sure what year it was, but I remember her refusing to put on her coat, let alone go outside. She sat in her favourite chair, the one she sits in now with the worn upholstery, and she wouldn’t budge. I cried all the way to the field. I was devastated. I didn’t understand how she couldn’t, just for one night, put her worries aside and do it for me. I don’t think she ever went again.’ And although Charlie was easy to talk to, Sam wasn’t about to tell him the unforgiveable turning point that Veronica reached.

‘Remember I’m here whenever you need to talk, Sam.’ There was a softness to his voice that made her relax in his company. It was all she needed to hear in that moment.

‘After the year Mum didn’t come to see the tree, Christmas was different. There was a sadness hanging over us which always started with her absence at the village tree-lighting ceremony. Sometimes I’d look at her and I’d feel so angry. I wanted answers, I wanted to know why she stopped coming with us to an event she looked forward to all year, why she couldn’t bring herself to be a part of the audience at my school performances, what her reasons were for leaving her job as a nurse that she loved. She was a shadow of the woman I knew she could be.’ Sam’s eyes filled with tears as it all poured out. Most of all she’d wanted to yell at her mum for letting her blow their family apart. ‘I’m sorry to lay all this on you. Not that I’ve been able to tell you much.’

‘Sam, when did you ever talk to anyone the way you’re talking now? To Audrey?’ She shook her head. ‘How about with your ex-husband?’

She harrumphed. ‘Definitely not. Simon met Mum a few times but he joined the many people who thought Mum was an oddball. He never said so, he held his tongue, but I could tell he wanted distance between us all. I think if he’d been on board then I might have made more effort when Audrey was little. I don’t blame him for it, I’m a big girl and should’ve made the decision for myself, but I suppose he gave me an out. I had a new life and it was a hell of a lot easier than the one I’d had with Mum.’

‘What made you ask for Veronica’s help with Audrey?’

‘I had no idea what else to do, no clue how to stop Audrey and I becoming as estranged as Mum and I. I needed to get Audrey away from that school; she was getting into trouble and I knew a different place could be the answer, even if it was only temporary. And part of me needed to see whether Mum and I could salvage our relationship.’

‘And have you?’

She smiled gently. ‘I think we’re starting to make tracks, but it’s a long road. I’d always felt that she was more of a burden than anything else. Maybe deep down I wanted to give Mum one last chance to prove that she could be the parent I’d always needed. That sounds cruel, doesn’t it?’

He took her hand again, and her stomach did a little flip. ‘Not at all. And for what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. I’ve noticed a change in Veronica since Audrey came along and even more so since you arrived. Maybe Veronica also saw it as a chance to reconnect with you.’

‘I feel like I’m getting to know Mum all over again. Does that make sense?’

‘Totally, and you’re lucky, you get a second chance. I never got on with my dad and not making peace with him before he died still haunts me.’

‘I’m sorry.’

He shrugged. ‘It is what it is, but I’m glad when I see people like you doing their best to work through it before it’s too late.’

Too late. Two little words that meant so much. Sam didn’t want to be too late to make things right with her mum and she didn’t want to be too late to sort out her relationship with her daughter either. Because being here in Mapleberry, she knew family was the most important thing on her agenda right now.

Charlie lightened the conversation by asking about Sam’s new flat, her moving plans for the New Year. And when they made their way back towards Mapleberry Lane, Sam wasn’t sure but she thought she felt Charlie’s fingertips brush against her own as they walked, as though they both had their hands out of their pockets on purpose.

‘Mum,’ a voice called from across the road. Audrey had been sitting on the swings and came across as they arrived back at Veronica’s. ‘Where’ve you been?’

‘I went to see the tree, bumped into Charlie, and we went for a coffee.’ It was like the roles had been reversed: daughter quizzing, mother supplying answers.

Disappointed, Audrey told her, ‘I was going to see the tree but thought I’d wait until dark.’

‘We can go later if you like,’ said Sam, happy to go whenever her daughter wanted. She asked to do so little with her, she’d take any chance she got. ‘It’s much better in the dark, I’d like to go again.’

‘I’d better go and fetch Layla,’ said Charlie. ‘And don’t worry, I’ll drop her over at yours this afternoon for the Kindness Club meeting.’ With a smile, he waved goodbye and left them to it.

‘You like him.’ Audrey nudged Sam like a best friend.

Unsure whether he was completely out of earshot she urged, ‘Not too loud, he’ll hear you.’

‘Well, you do, don’t you?’

‘No comment.’

Audrey shrugged as they went down the front path. She flicked some of the remaining frost off one of the branches near the front door and as she let them both inside, the smell of Gran’s baking wafted their way. A freshly baked tea loaf turned out on a board greeted them in the kitchen, Gran was in the lounge in her usual armchair, her laptop lead snaking across the room so she could use her computer while she sat near the fire.

‘You chatting with your friends again, Gran?’ Audrey asked, with a wink in Sam’s direction. This was what Sam had wanted all along with her daughter. A bond that included friendship and laughter.

‘I was earlier. I shared my recipe for mushroom and chestnut stuffing. A woman called June commented and told me she’s going to make it for her family when she does roast pork tomorrow.’

‘I always loved your stuffing,’ Sam admitted. ‘It’s packet mix for me nowadays.’

‘I have more time on my hands.’ Veronica delivered her comment without a hint of irony. She was able to make jokes sometimes that suggested to Sam she recognised how stuck she was. Sam only wished she’d show some enthusiasm for getting some help. Sam didn’t want to mention it too often; they were living under her roof after all. Maybe soon though.

‘Carole from the bakery had a baby boy this morning,’ Veronica hollered before either of them could grab a slice of tea loaf, its scent enticing them back into the kitchen.

‘That’s lovely,’ said Sam as her mum recounted the details – baby boy Curtis, nine pounds one ounce, a full head of dark hair.

Veronica scrolled down to something else in the residents group. ‘Look at this. There are so many charities at this time of the year, ones I’ve never heard of – there’s a shoebox appeal but I’m too late for this year. I’ve already made a note for next year, but I see this post here is about buying a gift for a child, specifying sex and age, then leaving around a tree.’

‘You must mean the wishing tree appeal.’ Sam perched on the arm of the chair. When she’d first come to the house, all three of them had taken one upholstered piece of furniture each, a good distance between each other, now they all shared the armchair, Gran on the seat, Sam in her position, Audrey on the other arm.

‘That’s the one. I’d not heard of it before, or at least I can’t remember it. Would one of you help me join in?’

‘Sure,’ said Sam and Audrey at the same time.

‘How about we do three gifts,’ Sam suggested. ‘One from each of us. I’ll buy two, Audrey can buy one more and you can wrap.’

‘This sounds a bit like an item on the calendar, although I haven’t seen December’s yet – Layla’s bringing it later.’ Veronica frowned. ‘I feel we’ll be leaving Layla out if it’s something us three do together.’

‘Then I’ll buy four gifts,’ said Sam simply. ‘Audrey and I will get two each, then you and Layla can be in charge of wrapping. She’ll love it. I’ll get some of that gorgeous green velvety ribbon and silver paper you used to love. Layla will enjoy making the bows and dressing the gifts up.’

‘You remember my colours?’ Veronica smiled.

‘Of course I do.’ Years ago, when she still loved Christmas, Veronica had insisted that all gifts came in silver paper and green velvet bows. It didn’t matter whether you were getting a train set, a barbie doll or a football, it would be wrapped the same way.

Sam left Audrey and her mum looking at some of the shopping websites for ideas, making a list of possible gifts, and when Sam went into the kitchen to get a start on making some sandwiches for lunch before she was tempted to cut a big chunk of tea loaf, she thought about her chat with Charlie. He’d been right when he said Veronica was changing as people came into her life. All of them in their own way were giving her life more meaning, enriching her limited world. And whether it was always set to be this way or whether they could make a difference, as long as they were helping in some way, Sam knew that was what really mattered.

Chapter Two

Veronica

Veronica was always eager to be a part of The Kindness Club, but nothing was quite as exciting as when Layla brought round a new calendar to show her, unveiling the new month’s tasks. When Layla had informed her that a friend would have to complete tasks alongside her and that she wanted that friend to be Veronica, it had sent Veronica into a mini-panic. She understood the purpose, it would spread more kindness that way, but when she couldn’t leave the house it made things difficult. At least it had until she, Layla and Audrey had come up with the solution of The Kindness Club on Mapleberry Lane. Not only would it solve the problem of her not leaving the house, but it also fulfilled one of the tasks: ‘Join a club’. And when she’d marked off that item, Veronica had felt a shift. And she knew what that shift was now – it was something verging on happiness.

What Veronica hadn’t realised that afternoon as they unrolled December’s calendar was quite how many Christmas-themed tasks it would include. Layla’s teacher’s enthusiasm seemed to mount every time the months flipped, but Veronica should’ve known. December always made people overexcited; it was the time to be over the top, the season of joy, goodwill, magic and all of the other feelings it evoked. She’d had Christmases like that once, but ever since she failed to bring the simple traditions to her own family, she’d shied away from the whole debacle, keeping only the habitual sending of cards. Christmas had never, and would never, be the same and celebrating always felt like a bit of a betrayal. Why should she feel so happy when she’d made others’ lives a misery? Not only did she not want to celebrate Christmas, Veronica didn’t think she deserved to. Last year had been hard enough, having Christmas lunch with Layla while she minded her for her dad. But she loved the little girl’s company, and although Veronica hadn’t had a tree or decorations, Layla had brought Christmas into this house simply with her personality and enthusiasm. There was also Audrey to think of now, a teen who perhaps didn’t have the excitement of Father Christmas anymore, but a girl who deserved Christmas done right. Veronica only hoped it wouldn’t all get too much. The last thing she ever wanted was for Audrey or Layla, or Charlie for that matter, to see her have a panic attack, to see her at her worst. She never wanted to frighten away the friends who’d come to mean so much.

Layla sat on the lounge carpet at Veronica’s and rushed through reading the calendar tasks, gabbling on at a rate of knots as she went off at tangents talking about how all three of them could accomplish what was required of them. Veronica hadn’t read many of the words on the calendar yet, she was still looking at tomorrow’s square. The words ‘put up your tree’ stared back at her. It was years since she’d had one inside her house, the smell drifting up the stairs in the cold morning air as she woke.

‘You don’t have to go out to get one,’ said Layla, following Veronica’s eye line and knowing what she was staring at.

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Come on, Gran,’ Audrey pleaded. ‘I get why you never had one when you lived on your own, but now we’re here it’s different, right?’

So Sam really had never told her why it was that Veronica gave up on Christmas as well as so many other things. She supposed for that she should be grateful. She sneaked a look at Sam who gave a tentative smile in return. ‘I don’t like needles in the carpet, they hang around for ever,’ she told them all. ‘And they smell.’

‘How can you not like the smell, Veronica?’ Layla looked so disappointed and for a moment Veronica wanted to curse that calendar for putting her in an impossible position. She’d a good mind to give this Mrs Haines a call and ask her why she was insisting on putting others through this rigmarole, making them alter their lives for a blessed calendar.

‘Mum, why don’t you get a tree?’ Sam came to her side. ‘I’d like to see one in the lounge again.’ A look passed between them, a shared hope that they could come out the other side after all that had happened since Sam was little.

Maybe it was time to step up, do this for everyone else, not herself. ‘I suppose I could get a small one.’

Sam put a hand on her shoulder. ‘The scouts have a lot outside the village hall, how about I go down there, take a look and see what I can get?’

‘Would you?’

Sam looked at Audrey and Layla. ‘You know, I’m only doing this if you let me into your club.’

Audrey began to laugh and suddenly stopped. ‘Oh, you’re serious.’

‘Of course I’m serious.’

Veronica had a sneaky suspicion Sam was doing it to be as much of a part of Audrey’s life as she could. After all, this was the last month of them living under the same roof and it would bring them together without being overwhelming. She had to hand it to her daughter for never giving up. She wished she’d had the same strength when she’d needed it the most. ‘We’ll have to take a vote, Sam,’ she said. ‘All those in favour, raise your hand.’

Layla’s shot up. Audrey lifted hers, though she still seemed surprised her mum wanted to be a part of this, and Veronica was, of course, in favour. ‘Well Sam, I’m happy to declare you a formal member of the Mapleberry Lane Kindness Club.

‘And I’m honoured to be a part of it.’

Layla jumped up from her seated position. ‘You need to do the promise,’ she insisted, gathering all four of them into a circle and making them position their right hand at their temple, thumb and little fingers meeting to make a salute sign. Veronica didn’t miss the wobble of amusement in Sam’s voice as she was required to take the same pledge all three of them had taken back in the autumn, promising her allegiance to the Kindness Club.

‘You can help me walk Penny Croft’s dog next time if you like,’ said Layla the second Sam had been sworn in. ‘At the end of November my task was to offer to walk a neighbour’s dog and hers is huge.’ She winked at Sam. ‘You know what they say…big dog…’ To Sam’s questioning glance, she finished ‘…big poo.’

‘Well as appealing as that sounds, Layla, I’m hoping my club duties avoid anything poo-related. I’ll head off now and choose us a tree.’

‘Thanks love.’ The words were out before Veronica thought about them. It was many years since she’d used that phrase.

Sam froze in the doorway of the lounge until she remembered the mission she was on, bundled herself up again and ventured out.

She was back less than an hour later. ‘Sorted,’ she said, once she’d taken her boots off. ‘One Christmas tree ordered, to be delivered tomorrow around four o’clock.’

Audrey clapped her hands together. ‘Now it’s feeling like it’s almost Christmas. And Mum, Layla has something for you.’

Layla held out a round disc covered in plastic. ‘I made these with my badge maker. If you’re in our club, you have to wear it to every meeting.’ All three of them already had their badges on, although Layla had made the rule only moments ago.

Sam pinned the badge to her top and Layla took charge of the meeting by handing Sam a purple pen. ‘This is your colour. We all have one so that when we cross out items we know who has done them.’

Veronica didn’t miss the amused edge to Sam’s serious expression as she asked Layla to explain the colour scheme. She was humouring the little girl, involving her in their family, and although Veronica knew she’d done a lot of things wrong over the years, she also knew she must have done something right with Sam because she was a beautiful person inside and out. Sometimes she just didn’t realise.

Layla held one end of the kindness calendar and with it unrolled, Audrey held the other as they went through the tasks. One day had ‘Make a gift for someone in need’ so they’d covered that with the wishing tree idea they’d discussed earlier and Layla was already happy she’d get to wrap the presents.

‘Bake a treat for the postman,’ Sam read out. ‘That’s easy. Mum, you’re the best baker in Mapleberry.’

‘I don’t know about that, and remember, you all have to help.’

‘We’ll bake together,’ said Sam, surprising everyone, even herself by the looks of things.

It was many, many years since Sam had stood at her side in the kitchen and helped her mix a batter, ice a cake or weigh out ingredients to come up with something delicious. But if she was willing to give it a go, so was Veronica.

Veronica took a deep breath. She wondered if she closed her eyes for too long, would this all disappear? It had been such a quiet house before, with loneliness soaking into the walls until Layla, Audrey and Sam had come along.

Veronica needed a focus and turned her attention back to the calendar. ‘I was looking at that same square earlier and I have a better idea. I was on the Mapleberry Village Facebook group this morning and someone was moaning away about the bin men, how they don’t always come on the right day, having a good old go at them he was.’

‘You’re thinking we bake him poisonous muffins?’ Audrey suggested.

Veronica loved that her granddaughter had developed a sense of humour in her time here. ‘Of course not. But I was thinking, postmen always get thanks, I’ve left biscuits for mine before now, but the bin men get nothing but grief and garbage. Let’s bake something for them too. And you can add it on the calendar in one of the free squares, although there aren’t many this month.’

‘Your teacher is very enthusiastic,’ Sam remarked. She took a pen and wrote it into one of the free squares.

Veronica noticed a look between Layla and Audrey but then they both agreed, it was a fine suggestion. They’d make Veronica’s legendary brownies with the white chocolate chips and box up a few batches as there were a number of men who came each week on the various bin trucks. ‘You might have to get up a bit earlier,’ she teased Audrey, ‘they usually come before noon.’

‘Very funny. I’ll set my alarm on bin day, don’t you worry.’

‘I’ll get all the ingredients for the brownies, Mum, if you could leave me a list,’ said Sam.

‘I’ll be at school when they come,’ Layla complained.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Veronica, ‘you’ll be making them and boxing them up so you’ve played your part.’ She patted the little girl’s hand. ‘Now, how about we have your piano lesson before your dad turns up to get you. You need to practise for those carols, remember.’

Sam stayed in the lounge to read her book and Audrey headed out to see friends, meeting an approving look from her mum. Veronica knew what it was like. When your child was happy, part of you couldn’t help but be content. Despite any other problems, that one simple thing always had the power to ground you and make you realise things weren’t so bad.

Veronica went into the study. ‘Remember your posture,’ she prompted Layla, who was sitting on the piano stool. Layla immediately sat up a little straighter. ‘Let your arms relax and have freedom, put all the weight into your fingers.’ She wasn’t sure Layla really got what she meant but Veronica could feel in her mind what it was like to play the piano. She sneaked on here sometimes when Sam and Audrey were out; it was an escape right here in her house that she hadn’t realised she needed until Layla got her playing again.

Layla had four Christmas carols in her repertoire and was improving each time she practised. One of the items on the calendar this month, Veronica had been delighted to see, was a simple – ‘Do something special for someone’ – and the carol concert for Charlie would mean they could all play a part. Veronica was coaching, Layla was the performer ready to put a smile on her dad’s face, Audrey would make refreshments for the evening and Sam would be taking photographs that Layla could show off to all her classmates.

Charlie collected Layla an hour later and Veronica started preparations for dinner. She loved cooking for people, but over the last month they’d drawn up a bit of a rota so Audrey and Sam could help out, but the kitchen was still Veronica’s domain and where she felt comfortable.

Sam appeared beside her, book still in her hand. She stretched languorously after sitting in the same position so long to read. ‘What’s on the menu tonight?’. Her reading glasses suited her: chunky dark frames that contrasted with her thick blonde hair.

Veronica tore off leaves from a cauliflower and discarded them in a pile for the compost. ‘Cauliflower cheese. Don’t tell me you’ve gone off it,’ she said when she caught Sam’s look.

‘I love it. The look is because in all these years I’ve never been able to make it quite like yours, no matter how hard I tried.’

‘What cheese did you use?’

‘Vintage cheddar, I swore that was what we’d had here too.’

‘Full-fat cheddar?’

‘Low fat,’ Sam confessed. ‘Is that where I went wrong?’

Veronica had seen Sam’s lean stomach when she stretched a moment ago, her pale pink shirt riding up to show her skin. ‘This is a good cauliflower cheese recipe, but it’s not exactly healthy,’ she confessed. ‘Well, apart from the high vegetable content of course. My recipe uses full-fat cheddar, double cream and whole milk.’

Sam whistled through her teeth. ‘I won’t fit into any of my clothes if I eat too much of that.’

‘Should I do something else? Maybe cauliflower curry?’

‘No! Not a chance.’

Veronica glowed inwardly. This had been Sam’s go-to dinner when she was in primary school. ‘I’ve got some ciabatta to cut up to go with it too.’

‘Careful, Mum, or I may end up coming back for dinner even when I move out.’

Veronica daren’t look at her daughter because she hoped for nothing less.

Dinner lived up to expectations just as Veronica had hoped it would. The cauliflower cheese was creamy, golden-topped and oozing with cheesy goodness. And Audrey informed her that they would be having that again and she’d be buying the cauliflower too. When Veronica told her that Layla and Charlie had grown cauliflowers in their veggie patch and they tasted even better, Audrey’s only question had been whether Gran would start her own veggie patch here.

‘She’s so much happier, don’t you think?’ Sam asked when Audrey left them to it so she could go upstairs and FaceTime Sid.

Veronica piled her plate on top of Sam’s, putting the cutlery on top and did the same with Audrey’s before taking them all over to the sink. Sam brought the remains of the cauliflower cheese that would keep in the fridge until tomorrow. They could all fight over who got it for lunch. ‘The girl who landed on my doorstep in the summer would never have been interested in cultivating vegetables.’

Sam laughed. ‘Don’t I know it. Coming here has been good for her, Mum. It’s more laidback being in a village; she had space she’d never have had at home and that alone has helped her more than I even thought it would.’

‘It’s partly your doing, you know. This isn’t only because Audrey came here.’

‘It’s a very large part of it,’ Sam insisted.

‘It’s also your doing because you recognised she needed something and you made a decision. You’re a good parent, Sam.’

‘I’m not sure about that. I haven’t told her about Simon and what he said – that’s not exactly exemplary parenting.’

‘That ex-husband of yours has made his mess and expects someone else – you – to clear it up. That’s not on.’ Over time, since Sam had arrived in Mapleberry, she and Veronica were extending their conversations. Veronica was no longer quite as hesitant around her daughter and it worked both ways. There was a time Veronica wouldn’t have dared to share her opinion, particularly when it came to Sam’s life or anybody in it.

‘It’s not on, but I do have to be the one to tell her. I just need to find the right time. She’s so happy here at the moment, being part of this club you all started. I want to thank this teacher of Layla’s – I hope she realises the magic she’s worked for us!’

‘Hopefully for a lot of other families too.’

‘Let’s hope so.’ Sam filled the sink with soapy water to wash the pans that wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher.

‘Audrey is so kind and patient with Layla. And that is down to you, Sam, not anybody else. She’s been brought up properly. She knows right from wrong.’ When Sam didn’t look so sure, she added, ‘I don’t mean all of the time, no child does, they test the boundaries. But Audrey’s heart is in the right place and if you’re patient, she’ll see the truth in time.’

‘The truth about Simon?’

Veronica paused, putting down the cloth she’d used to wipe the cooker. The cauliflower’s overzealous boiling had left remnants on the flat surface of the induction hob but they came off easily enough. ‘Yes, but not only about him as a person, I’m talking about you and him as a married couple, as her parents. She’ll see that there are always two sides.’

Sam seemed to be thinking hard about what she was saying and as Veronica took out the bin from beneath the sink and twisted the top of the liner into a knot, she said, ‘Are you talking about me and Simon, or you and Dad?’

‘I was referring to you and Simon,’ Veronica explained, ‘but also to me and your dad.’ She hesitated. It felt wrong to speak ill of the dead. But he was gone and she was here, and there was nobody else who could let Sam know what it had been like for her. ‘You worshipped him, he could do no wrong in her eyes.’ Veronica looked directly at her daughter. She never would’ve done when Sam first arrived, she’d avoided eye contact, proper conversation; she was so worried that any confrontation would be the last of it and poof, loved ones would be gone from her life for ever. But having her and Audrey here, spending time with Layla, having more of a focus with this calendar business and a life on social media, had started to make Veronica feel brave.

Last night Veronica had even put her first post up in the residents Facebook group, a yule log recipe that she’d had for years and made tweaks to – instead of having a smooth creamy filling, she added some chocolate chunks to it for texture and surprise, rather than only using a fork to create the log markings. She did this but also added holly and ivy made out of fondant at one end. She’d become absorbed in the conversations on other Facebook posts where people were sharing table-decorating ideas, favourite recipes, techniques for cooking a turkey. She’d leapt right in and used other peoples’ posts to model hers on so she knew what to say, what not to. And when she’d pressed enter she’d felt nervous but excited, connecting with people outside of this house for the first time in years. She’d already had thirty-three likes and eight comments – people were talking to each other, and they were talking to her!

‘Leave those pans, Sam, I’ll wash up.’ Veronica’s tone was so firm that Sam took the hint and stepped back from the sink.

This enormous upheaval in Veronica’s life – Audrey coming, and then Sam – had been the best possible thing, and she’d welcomed it! But right now, so close to sharing all her feelings with her daughter, she needed a moment to gather herself. And the washing up, the wiping down surfaces and putting utensils away was the normality she needed.

Sam left her to it and after Veronica cleared the kitchen, put all the big pots and pans away and set the dishwasher to take care of the rest, she got her knitting bag from where it lived in the corner of the lounge and sat down in her favourite chair. She had a feeling she wouldn’t be disturbed for the rest of the evening. She’d already finished knitting a rich plum jumper for herself and in the same wool she was about to make a start on a hat for Layla. Layla loved wearing bright colours; her dark ginger hair suited her for that very reason.

Veronica got out her circular needles, tied a slip knot in the wool at one end and knitted eighty-eight stitches. She made sure they weren’t twisted, used a safety pin to mark the beginning of each subsequent round, and then she was off. It was knit one, purl one and the therapeutic clickety-clack of the needles let her mind drift. Luckily for her, despite her lack of outside life, her body didn’t seem too troubled by the experience. So many others her age had arthritis; she’d watched a program about it and it could affect the hands and fingers, but Veronica was thankful hers seemed to be working as deftly as they always had.

As she knitted, Veronica’s mind flitted to her new-found group on Facebook. She enjoyed the interaction from behind the screen, it didn’t make her feel panicky at all, and there was one member of the group in particular who had caught her interest. Morris Alby was the name he went by and he’d not just ‘liked’ her post about the yule log, he’d ‘loved’ her post. He’d written a whole paragraph about his lack of culinary skills, including amusing anecdotes such as the time he left giblets in the chicken, when he misread how much flour to use in pancake batter and ended up with something he could’ve used to wallpaper his living room, and the time he left some of the film from the packaging on his new frying pan and ruined both his dinner and the vessel. Morris was talkative, but he wasn’t one of those moaners. Veronica had sniffed a few of those out fairly quickly, the kind of people who posted a complaint rather than something positive, and then when others joined in, they replied with more and more whinging and whining. It was sometimes entertaining to read, she had to admit, but Morris’s comments were much more interesting.

In fact, Morris was part of what Veronica liked to refer to as her spin-off group on Facebook. There were just four members – Veronica, Morris, Bridget and June, all roughly the same age and – as they’d realised from reading each other’s posts – all interested in the same topics, like cooking, gardening, quiz shows on the television and the odd film. Slowly Veronica was finding connections outside of her own home. She smiled to herself – this wasn’t just something she could mark off on the kindness calendar, it was something she could keep for herself.

‘Nice colour, Gran.’ It was Audrey, coming downstairs to make some toast, as she often did. Her teenage body seemed to need the fuel at all hours of the day and evening, and Veronica had got used to her appearing just when she thought the house was quiet.

‘What are you watching?’ Audrey stood in the doorway waiting for the toaster to pop up.

‘I’m knitting, waiting for something good to come on.’ It sounded better than admitting she enjoyed the television for the noise, the company. On the screen was a documentary about dairy farming, probably quite interesting if she hadn’t been daydreaming as she knitted. She’d not needed background noise quite so much lately, what with her newly discovered social media outlet as well as two others in the house and Layla and Charlie’s visits, but it was part of her norm, part of what calmed her, especially after her earlier conversation with Sam when she’d almost laid out all the truths, told Sam exactly how much help her father had been to her over the years when her problems felt insurmountable.

‘Mind if I eat this upstairs?’ Audrey asked when she’d buttered her toast and slathered it in marmalade.

‘Go on,’ she smiled. She’d spent too long living by her own rules that even she was tired of them. What was the worst that could happen? A few crumbs dropped or a splodge of butter if Audrey wasn’t careful. It didn’t really matter, did it?

‘Thanks Gran, you’re the best.’ And she came right over and kissed her on the cheek, taking Veronica quite by surprise. ‘I said I’d Facetime Sid again – he’s got a date and I need to hear how it went.’

Audrey swept out of the room leaving Veronica wondering what had just happened. Audrey was blossoming before her very eyes, becoming chattier as time went on. Yesterday she’d told Veronica how keen she was on this boy Alex who had apparently picked up her textbooks for her the other day when she dropped them in the corridor in a rush to get to her next lesson. Veronica had wondered whether soon enough her granddaughter would have her first date with this boy. He certainly put a smile on Audrey’s face and smiling was something Audrey seemed to be doing a lot more of these days.

Veronica laid down her knitting, too distracted to carry on. There was a distant murmur from upstairs in Audrey’s bedroom so she assumed she’d managed to contact Sid. It was good she had a friend. She knew Sam hadn’t been keen on the boy but now suspected like her, she was pleased Audrey had people on her side. And she was often out too, always going for coffee or to the movies with a group of others.

The television still didn’t have much to choose from after Veronica flipped through the channels so she picked up her laptop from the study and brought it in so she could log on to the Facebook group. She started with the residents main group and replied to comments on her yule log recipe about the strength of chocolate she used, whether she’d tried fresh cream in the centre. Someone else had shared a recipe for rum truffles and Veronica copied it down so she could give it a go. She went from there into the closed group where Bridget was asking whether anybody knew someone who could fix up her shed come the spring. Veronica recommended her gardener Trevor and it led to all four of them sharing photographs of their gardens, which they agreed would be riots of colour in the right season. None of them wanted to rush it, but they were starting to form a real friendship, and Veronica felt her happiest in this little group. Could it be a tiny slice of a new beginning?

Audrey came back downstairs and washed her plate, as the dishwasher was full. When she first arrived in the summer she would’ve left it for Veronica, as well as the butter out on the side, and a used knife on the benchtop. But she was a pleasure to be around these days.

Veronica was about to reply to June’s query in their closed group about making scones when Audrey peered over her shoulder. ‘You have a message.’

‘Do I?’

Audrey pointed to a symbol at the top of the screen with a funny squiggle in the middle. ‘Click on that one.’

Veronica did as she was told.

‘It’s from Morris,’ Audrey grinned, nudging her. ‘Is he in the secret group?’

‘Closed group, and yes, he’s a member. All very above board.’

‘You know what you should do?’ By Audrey’s expression Veronica could sense a suggestion coming her way, but Audrey had run up the stairs and came back with her phone. ‘We should totally load up the photograph of you with your hair and make-up all done, the one I took after the makeover.’

‘For what reason?’ Veronica saw the photo, it was a good one, but she much preferred the incognito approach.

‘Put it on your profile picture so people know who you are.’

‘I’m not sure I like that idea.’

‘Why not? I bet the others in the group have all got a photograph.’

‘That’s true.’ She wanted to read Morris’s message but she’d gone back into the group instead while Audrey was here. ‘How would I do it?’

‘Would you like me to?’ Audrey offered.

When Veronica nodded, Audrey snatched the chance before she changed her mind, connected up a cable, got the photograph and just like that, there was her photograph next to her name on Facebook. It felt adventurous, new, an exciting part of her life that had been out of bounds until now.

‘You reply to Morris,’ Audrey winked. ‘See you in the morning, Gran.’

Veronica didn’t have much of a rebuke to her granddaughter’s teasing so with the television for company, she clicked on the message symbol to see what Morris had to say for himself.

She ended up conversing with him for well over an hour. She’d had her computer on her lap so long it made her hot and eventually she’d had to move over to the kitchen table. She’d looked at his picture as she was sure he had seen hers. At her age you couldn’t beat around the bush so she’d asked him outright how old he was. Seventy-four, he’d told her, and she wasn’t surprised when her stomach did a little flip, a jolt that told her she might be seventy-one and confined to this house, but she wasn’t dead yet.

They talked more about cooking, gardening, grandchildren, and how the reduction in bus services around Mapleberry meant he didn’t get to see family as often as he would like. He’d always loved to drive but got rid of his car when it became too expensive to use for only a quick journey to the shops or to see his only son and his family. Instead he’d used the money to install a wonderful summer house at the foot of his garden. When Veronica asked where he lived, it turned out he wasn’t all that far away. He was on Applecroft Lane, which ran on past the field with the enormous Christmas tree every year. He had a hundred foot garden – he’d accidentally pressed the return button after saying ‘I’ve got a hundred foot’ and Veronica had collapsed into fits of laughter. He’d picked up on his mistake and said, ‘Bet you wondered what I was going to write then.’

Veronica told Morris all about the kindness calendar Layla had introduced to them. He told her that his grandkids were older now but they’d once done something similar although on a smaller scale. Morris had loved the sound of the Kindness Club and Veronica was pleased he didn’t ridicule it. That could’ve been make or break time as far as she was concerned. Herman had never laughed at her but he’d been embarrassed by her behaviour, didn’t take her seriously, and she didn’t think she could form a friendship with another man who thought she was less of a person if she showed weakness.

Veronica had watched programmes about how social media lulled you into a false sense of security, made you share personal details online when you wouldn’t in real life, and she saw how easily it could happen. But seeing as she’d already thrown caution to the wind by being on here in the first place and sharing a photograph, and after Morris told her about a family rift he’d had with his son that went on for twelve months, the worst year of his life, she found herself confessing everything. Somehow it was easier than talking to the counsellor who’d come here several times. Perhaps it was the informality, or the shield of a computer screen or maybe even time that had made the wounds less painful. She told him everything, all about Sam and her devotion to her father, the strain between Sam and Audrey and how she was doing her best to help them out. And she told him all about Herman, as well as the thing she never told anyone, the thing she hadn’t even spoken to Sam about.

And she realised by the time she stole away to bed like a teenager who had broken curfew, that without leaving this house she’d managed to find a real friend.

Chapter Three

Audrey

Audrey fumbled in her school bag for her key as she walked down the front path of her gran’s house. She wasn’t sure what had happened between her gran and her mum, but they both seemed a little odd when she came downstairs after talking to Sid yesterday. Her mum even asked how Sid was – now that was peculiar. Still, whatever was going on, Audrey decided it had to be a good thing because they didn’t seem as tense around one another. And at breakfast this morning they’d been talking away with a much softer edge, moving around in a shared space as though there was no longer the force field they’d each secured around themselves.

The sweet smell of baking hit her the moment she opened the door and so did the chatter. Gran and her mum were baking brownies in the kitchen as though they were any other normal family who had their problems but put them aside, rather than two women who’d barely had much of a conversation in years. ‘Are those the famous brownies?’ she asked as Gran cut the moist chocolate mixture into squares. Still in the tray, they smelled rich and decadent and Audrey’s mouth was already watering.

‘They are, and I’m making a lot so we can box them up and give them to the bin men, but don’t worry, there’s plenty for us as well. By the time you get changed these will be ready to eat. I have another four batches in the oven so this house is going to smell glorious.’

‘It already does,’ Sam declared.

Audrey headed off to get changed. Not only would the brownies be waiting but the Christmas tree would be arriving any second and before that she had some Kindness Club business to get on with. ‘I’ll get it,’ she yelled when there was a knock at the door. She knew it would be Layla, bang on time.

Layla waved down the street to her dad or Bea, whoever was in charge, to say she’d arrived safely, stepped inside and although distracted by the sweet smells wafting towards her, she handed Audrey December’s kindness calendar. ‘What are you going to write on it?’ she asked.

‘Shhh…I’ll explain later.’ Audrey called into the kitchen, ‘I’m just showing Layla my new make-up,’ and they trotted upstairs, shutting the door behind them.

Audrey took a pen and scribbled another task into one of the squares. ‘They won’t realise I’ve added it,’ she said, ‘There are so many other things squeezed in. They both just think your teacher is working you too hard.’

Layla looked at ‘Take care of an animal’, the latest task to be added to their kindness calendar, which would look totally different to any other kid’s in the class. Good job Layla’s dad wasn’t overly friendly with any of the other parents. If they discussed it, he’d know something was up, and Audrey and Layla didn’t want their interfering to get back to Gran. She might not appreciate it. ‘Why are you adding that one? I’ve done dog walking so I ticked it off a month ago.’

They sat down on her bed while Audrey explained. ‘This one is for Gran. She’s never had a pet, but a few times I’ve noticed her watching television programmes about birds in particular. When she’s watching something that isn’t what you would call light entertainment, she gets this look on her face.’

‘Like when Dad watches Wimbledon?’

Audrey didn’t really know how to answer that. ‘What happens when he watches Wimbledon?’

Layla did such a frown that Audrey could totally see Charlie doing it too. ‘Yeah, a bit like that,’ she laughed. The kid was nothing if not perceptive. ‘So animals have to be important to her, right? And she always sends Christmas cards with robin redbreasts on them.’

‘She always points them out to me when they’re in the garden,’ said Layla, before admitting, ‘she didn’t like it once when I found a pretend robin in the kitchen drawer and played with it.’

‘I saw her holding that thing the other day. She was looking at it like it was a precious piece of jewellery.’

Layla looked into her lap. ‘I have a necklace that once belonged to my mum. If Daddy lets me look at it, I can stare at it for ever.’

‘You must miss her.’ And it made Audrey feel guilty for all the times she’d moaned about her own mum. As much as they clashed, she’d never want to lose her like Layla had.

‘I do.’ She brightened. ‘When I’m eighteen I can wear the necklace.’

‘Then it’ll be super special.’

‘Are you saying the robin is as special as my necklace?’

‘I don’t know – maybe.’

Gran’s voice called them and the girls conspired to keep their actions with the calendar a secret. ‘We’ll pretend that item was on the calendar all along,’ said Audrey. ‘There are so many it could’ve easily been missed. Perhaps Gran could make a bird feeder to hang from the bird table in her garden, or she could sponsor an animal, you know, via the zoo or something.’

‘Like a panda?’

‘Whatever she likes,’ Audrey whispered as they joined her mum and Gran in the kitchen. Sam handed a brownie on a plate to Layla and another to Audrey. Wearing an apron just like Gran, it really was the picture of domesticity. And Audrey would’ve loved to have known what happened to start the thaw between these two.

‘The tree will be here soon,’ said Sam.

‘Dad will be too,’ Layla added, unaware of the effect the announcement had on Audrey’s mum. But Audrey hadn’t missed it. She knew those signs. She reacted the same way whenever Alex was near. She got a fluttery sensation in her tummy, her mouth went dry and when he looked at her she became all clumsy. He’d said hello to her as he rocked up late to science class the other day and she’d put down her test tubes without a rack. They would’ve tumbled to the floor had her friend Vicky not put a hand out to stop them.

Sam put another brownie onto a plate and placed it at the table ready for Charlie. Audrey had a sneaky suspicion her peeking out of the front window now wasn’t really because of her excitement to get the tree but more to do with Charlie’s imminent arrival. Audrey shook her head and tucked into a second brownie Gran passed her but not until she’d hugged Gran so tight she couldn’t get away. She was glad she’d got to know her after all these years. Gran, despite her obvious problems, was someone Audrey suspected didn’t fluctuate much from one day to the next. Too many people of Audrey’s age were nice to you and friends with you one minute, then the next it was as though you were their arch enemy. Older people like Gran had probably seen it all before; they didn’t have time for such games.

Audrey watched Sam checking her hair in the hallway mirror. It always looked good, even when she wasn’t trying; her mum was beautiful. Sometimes she wondered why her dad had ever left. She always told herself it must have been her mum being so difficult to be with, but perhaps she’d been blaming her all along for no reason at all. She was definitely trying now, and she’d never put a wedge between Audrey and her dad; as Gran and Layla didn’t seem to have much problem with this obvious newly blossoming romance, maybe she shouldn’t either. Audrey had never questioned her dad having another partner; he’d met someone else so quickly and so long ago that she’d just gone along with it. And she’d never want to protest because she wanted her dad to be in her life in whatever shape that took. If she started to get awkward, it might come between them and push him away. Audrey liked to think she was mature, accepting another woman into her close domain whenever she did see her dad, which wasn’t often, but she knew she wasn’t that grown up. Audrey had tried to chase away every man Sam had ever been interested in since her dad left. She’d dug in her heels, as subtly as she could, and it had worked; she’d kept her mum for herself. Audrey couldn’t bear the thought of another parent starting over without her and her having to fight even more for what most kids had without even trying – unconditional love. Sometimes she thought she had it with Sam, other times it felt as though Sam was trying to mould her into someone she wasn’t.

‘Layla, could you please box up the brownies when they’re cool enough,’ Gran asked.

Layla was more than happy with her assigned role and Audrey tried not to laugh because when she agreed, she could see Layla still had much of her brownie stuck between her teeth.

When the door went again and Sam answered it, Gran tutted good-naturedly. ‘It’s like Piccadilly Circus in here.’ It made Audrey smile – rather than Gran being nervous at the sound of someone coming to her home, the way she’d been the first time she peeked around the door in the summer when Audrey arrived, big suitcase in tow, she was revelling in the company now. They were making progress, Audrey was sure of it, and when she shared a smile with Layla, she wondered whether the eight-year-old had managed to pick up on the change in atmosphere too.

‘Tree’s here, Gran!’ Audrey called when Sam and Charlie navigated the tree through the front door between them. The scouts must’ve handed the job over straight away.

‘Honestly, you don’t need to yell,’ said Gran, ‘but quick, tell the delivery boys to wait up would you.’

Audrey did so and Layla appeared at the door moments later with a box of brownies only just cool enough to hand over. ‘Veronica says thank you very much. Your services are appreciated. Come again next year,’ she added cheerily and waved them off down the path. They were already tucking into the brownies by the time they reached the gate, unconcerned by the rain that had just begun to fall.

Audrey shut the front door. ‘Gran,’ she called into the kitchen, ‘there won’t be any brownies left for the bin men at this rate.’

‘Did someone say brownies?’ Charlie put a hand on his stomach.

Sam smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I saved you one.’

‘Let me get the tree into the stand first,’ he said. They’d retrieved the stand from Gran’s loft last night so it had been ready and waiting all day.

‘Gran, where are you?’ Everyone else was in the lounge but Audrey could hear the tap running in the kitchen. ‘Gran, come on, the tree is almost in position and it smells wonderful.’ She went through to find Veronica staring out of the back window into the garden, the crisp finish on the leaves this morning replaced by the dreary downpour.

Audrey leapt forward to turn off the taps before they had a downpour inside as well as out.

‘Oh dear,’ said Gran, ‘I was in a world of my own.’

‘The tree, Gran.’ When Gran didn’t move, Audrey took hold of Gran’s hand and led her into the lounge where Charlie was in fits of laughter, head stuck in the tree as he attempted to get it straight. Her mum was making a similar fool of herself until she declared it straight enough for him to fix in place, but watching the pair of them had all three onlookers laughing, even Gran, who’d taken to her favourite chair already.

‘You’ve got some in your hair.’ Charlie, out of breath, stood up, looked down at Sam and plucked an offending portion of tree from her hair.

If Audrey ever got to flirt with Alex, she hoped they’d do it somewhere a little more private. ‘Come on, Layla, want to bring the decorations down with me? They’re all on the landing ready.’

Layla followed her up the stairs, tried to take one of the biggest boxes, but Audrey persuaded her to go for a smaller one. ‘This one has the most delicate things inside.’

‘Then I’ll be very careful.’ She waited for Audrey to pick up a box too. ‘Veronica has funny moments,’ she said. ‘She had one when the tree arrived.’

‘What do you mean funny moments?’

‘Wimbledon moments.’

Audrey grinned. ‘I like the way you think, kid. Let’s call them Wimbledon moments, it can be our code,’ she said, thinking back to their conversation about how Charlie’s face changed if he was watching tennis, much like Gran’s expression could change when she was watching something on the television or gazing at robins out of the window, or even like a moment ago when the tree’s arrival in her house seemed to have shifted something.

‘Maybe she just likes to think,’ Audrey suggested. ‘Perhaps she’s already planning what decorations go where on the tree.’ It was likely to be a whole lot more than that, she thought, but would she ever find out what it was?

When Sam first arranged for the tree to be delivered, Audrey had wondered whether this tree decorating should be just the three of them, no Charlie and no Layla. But it had been Sam who suggested they join in and Audrey agreed. Charlie and Layla had been more of a family to Gran than they had in recent years and this was mostly about Gran and what they could do to help her. It seemed to have become an unspoken aim between them all, and one Audrey was happy to go along with.

It wasn’t long before the pristine living room was awash with colour, ornaments, tinsel –mess everywhere! But when Audrey looked at Gran, she was getting into it as much as everyone else. She didn’t have a lot of choice when Layla had her helping to untangle the lights. Between the pair of them, they lifted the lights over to the tree and started at the top – they needed Charlie’s height to reach the very top where the angel would perch – and wound their way down to the bottom. Audrey sorted through Gran’s decorations, unwrapping them from tissue paper or taking them out of bubble wrap or in some cases, newspaper. They’d been preserved for years and most of them had fared well. Nothing was broken apart from one china bell that had a crack in the side. Gran told her to throw it out, it wasn’t a particularly special ornament. But that was it when it came to getting rid of anything, despite some shockers in the collection like a gold and jewelled swirly thing that stood out a mile, a crocheted Santa, a pottery star with a painted on face that probably suited Halloween more than Christmas. There were plenty of nicer classic ornaments, decorations Audrey loved including a set of little gingerbread men, delicate silver bells tied with red bows, a couple of felt miniature Christmas stockings and half a dozen baubles each with a different Victorian Christmas scene, all ready with delicate green wire to fix onto branches.

By the time the tree was trimmed they were all hungry and Sam and Audrey set off for the local fish and chip shop. They left Layla at home to box up the brownies ready to pass to the bin men tomorrow. Layla had told her teacher what they were doing and she was very impressed by the sound of The Kindness Club and their apparent ‘thinking outside the square’ to include bin men as well as the postmen.

The scent of fish, hot potato and pie filled the lounge when Sam and Audrey returned and they all opened up their parcels onto trays on their laps. Both Sam and Audrey were astounded that they hadn’t been ushered over to the table; Gran never liked food eaten anywhere other than the kitchen or at the table and although Audrey had got away with snacks in her bedroom, mealtimes were totally different.

‘Can we turn off the lights?’ Layla asked. ‘We’ll eat by the lights of the tree and nothing else.’

Gran even agreed to that, and as Charlie turned off the main lights in the room, she contentedly sat in her chair, enjoying the piece of fish in its golden batter. Sam perched on the hearth beside her mum’s chair and it reminded Audrey of the way she’d liked to sit at her dad’s feet on a Sunday morning when she was little. He’d read the paper on his lap while she watched cartoons and as long as she knew he was there beside her, she was happy.

‘I can’t see what colour my sauce is,’ Layla declared.

‘You know it’s red,’ Charlie told her. ‘We can’t put the lights on, it’ll ruin the atmosphere. And besides, it was your choice, remember.’

As they finished their food parcels, slowing towards the end given the enormous portions, Layla mentioned the Mapleberry village tree again. ‘It looks so good all lit up, Veronica. You should see it.’

‘Plenty of folks sharing it on the village Facebook group page. One of my new online friends put up a video of it too, although she wasn’t too good at holding her hands steady – I think I saw more of people’s coats than the tree itself.’

‘Can we go tonight, Daddy? Please? Audrey said she was going with her mum.’

Charlie and Sam exchanged a look. ‘We don’t have to do it tonight.’

Gran picked up on the subtext immediately. ‘I’ll be right here when you all get back. I’m too full to even get up so I’m going to enjoy some peace and quiet for a while.’

‘Are you sure, Gran?’ Audrey asked, as twenty minutes later the others were bundling into their coats, gloves and scarves.

‘Very sure. You lot go, you’ll enjoy it. I’ve got my knitting to work on.’

Layla started to ask what she was working on and Audrey sensed the next question would likely be whether she could see it, so she encouraged her out of the door after Sam and Charlie.

The rain had eased off by the time they reached the field but the ground squelched beneath their feet where the mud was thicker at the entrance. Beside the impressive tree that had to be at least fifteen metres tall, possibly more, Audrey stood with Layla looking up at the mesmerising twinkling lights. Sam and Charlie were side-by-side behind them, equally as quiet as they took in the magic.

‘So much better than in the daytime,’ Sam declared. ‘I love the short days in winter.’

‘No way – I’m a summer guy, the long days and warm evenings,’ said Charlie.

Layla winked at Audrey and leaned in to whisper, ‘They like each other.’

Audrey shushed her. ‘They’ll hear you.’ But she didn’t hate the idea as much as she once would have, the thought of her mum making a new life for herself. Maybe she needed to and once she did, she’d see that Audrey could too. Although where that life would be and what shape it would take, Audrey didn’t really have any idea. What she did know that back at number nine Mapleberry Lane was a woman who should be here with them tonight, looking up at the inky sky dotted with a handful of stars. On a clear night here in Mapleberry, they seemed to dazzle in a magical way that made you sigh and revel in the season. Gran had a sadness Audrey couldn’t pinpoint, but slowly, bit by bit, she was changing. Because Gran needed a new life too; Audrey just wasn’t sure whether she realised it yet.

Audrey took plenty of photos of the tree. She knew Gran had already seen lots, but she’d taken shots from all angles to make sure nothing was missed.

Sam took out her phone and took some pictures too. They all changed positions so they could each be in them and when a woman walked by and offered to take a photo of the whole family, they happily agreed.

‘She thought I was your sister,’ Layla announced proudly as they made their way back to the house. She slipped her hand into Audrey’s. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

‘Of course not.’ In fact, she quite liked it.

‘It’s so cold out there,’ Audrey declared the second they got home. They’d dropped Layla and Charlie at their house. ‘How’s the knitting going?’ she asked, poking her head around the lounge doorway.

Gran must’ve shoved it all in the bag, thinking Layla was going to show up again, because she was pulling it all back out again now. ‘Not much more to do.’

‘Tea?’ Sam trilled, although she’d already gone to the kitchen and Audrey heard the kettle flick on.

Gran got out of her chair and came through to the kitchen. ‘I’m going to stand up for mine,’ she declared as Sam dropped tea bags into cups. ‘My joints will cease up if I’m not careful, all this sitting is bad for me.’

Audrey saw the rich plum woolly hat sitting on the arm of Gran’s chair. ‘Layla’s going to love it.’

‘I hope so.’

‘You could make me one too.’

‘You’d wear something I knitted?’ Gran didn’t seem convinced.

‘Sure, why not?’

‘Because you’re way too fashionable.’

‘Don’t put yourself down. If you knit it, I’ll wear it.’

Gran began to laugh. ‘Careful what you say, young lady.’

Audrey set down her cup and showed Gran the pictures she’d taken of the tree. Sam showed her all of the photographs of the four of them: the one where Layla was laughing as Charlie lifted her onto his shoulders and she was the tallest of them all, touching branches way up high; the picture that captured them looking like a family to anyone who didn’t know any different. Audrey just wished Gran’s smiling face had been a part of that particular shot.

Audrey picked up her tea again, the steam pleasantly warming her face. ‘How’s the cyber boyfriend, Gran?’

Sam almost slopped her tea. ‘The cyber what?’

‘His name is Morris,’ said Gran, ‘and I’m seventy-one-years-old, young lady. “Boy” is not the correct term. I prefer “manfriend”.’

‘He’s been messaging Gran,’ Audrey told Sam. ‘He’s got a photograph too, want to see? As long as you don’t mind, Gran.’

‘I’ve got nothing to hide,’ Veronica dismissed.

On Gran’s laptop Audrey opened up Facebook, found Morris and clicked on his photograph so it filled most of the screen. Gran didn’t seem at all bothered at their scrutiny; in fact, she seemed rather proud to show him off.

‘Mum,’ Sam gasped, ‘Morris is a silver fox.’

Audrey laughed. That was such an old phrase, but Gran seemed happy with it. Audrey wondered what phrase could sum up Alex. He was good-looking – tall, on the rowing team, he was funny and seemed to attract a crowd, and he had a slight Irish accent that all the girls went on about. And sure, he’d looked her way more than once, smiled even, but it didn’t mean he was keen on her. Although according to Vicky, his eyes had followed her in the café the other day when they were all in there – he hadn’t looked at any other girl.

When they’d finished stalking poor Morris, Audrey clicked away from his photograph and onto the Facebook residents group to see if anyone else had posted photographs of the tree. She paused at a post that caught her eye. It had a photograph of an old lady who had to be at least a decade older than Gran, with a beautiful ginger cat curled up on her lap.

Gran took charge and scrolled back down the village page to read the entire post. ‘I don’t think this lady has posted in the group but her daughter posts quite often. Usually it’s things about shop opening times and home delivery slots, but this one is different.’ She put a hand against her chest. ‘Oh how sad. She says this is a photograph of her mum and she’ll be moving into a nursing home tomorrow. She says she still doesn’t have a home for her cat, Claude. What a great name for a cat. Claude…I like it.’ It was as though she was trying it on for size.

‘Why doesn’t the daughter look after it?’ Sam wondered.

Gran read some more. ‘Her son is allergic so she can’t take it. The cat’s old, he doesn’t go outside much. Sounds a bit like me.’

Audrey shared a smile with Gran and a more conspiratorial look with her mum. ‘You do it, Gran.’

‘Do what?’

‘Give Claude a new home.’

‘No, I couldn’t possibly. I’ve never had a cat, or a pet for that matter. I wouldn’t have the first clue how to care for it.’

‘But you could learn,’ said Audrey, ‘and it’s not like you don’t have time on your hands.’

Before Sam could call her daughter out for being rude, Gran began to laugh. ‘You’ve got a good point there.’ She looked from Audrey to Sam and then back again and then it was as though a light had suddenly been flicked on, something inside her simply clicked. ‘You know what, I’m going to do it.’ She tapped the table decisively with the palm of her hand. ‘I’m going to be Claude’s new owner and he’s going to love me as much as I know I’ll love him.’ She stood up. ‘I’m really going to do it.’

‘Where are you going, Mum?’ Sam asked.

Gran sat back down. ‘I don’t know!’

‘Reply to the post, Gran,’ Audrey urged. ‘Before somebody else gets in first.’

Gran leapt into action and left a comment to say she would love to take Claude; she was at home all day so he’d have company. She was about to add her phone number until Audrey told her to send the woman a friend request so they could exchange more details away from the group. ‘You have to look out for people who might be up to no good,’ Audrey warned.

‘Good point, thanks Audrey.’ She sent the request. ‘I do hope I got in first.’

So did Audrey. She’d learned to watch Gran’s expressions, particularly when she didn’t say much, and watching the rising excitement at the thought of adding Claude to her life was like one of those Wimbledon moments she and Layla had discussed. The look on Gran’s face said she wanted Claude more than she was prepared to admit.

Audrey put the dishwasher on once their tea cups were inside. ‘Hey, Gran, you can tick something else off the kindness calendar if you get to take care of Claude, and if Mum, Layla and I help you with him, we all get to put a line through the square that says “Take care of an animal”.’

Gran frowned. ‘I don’t remember seeing that on there.’

‘There are a lot of items this month,’ Audrey agreed. ‘I keep forgetting them myself.’

‘Must’ve missed it,’ Gran smiled. ‘Never mind. Now, don’t forget to set your alarm for bright and early tomorrow. Remember we’re doling out brownies to the bin men. Layla has already packaged them up.’

Audrey did a mock brownie guide salute, the way she remembered Layla doing when she talked about her brownies and when she’d made them take the Kindness Club pledge in the autumn. ‘Operation Bin Men is a-go!’

‘Goodnight Audrey,’ Gran smiled.

‘Goodnight, see you in the morning. Goodnight, Mum.’ She smiled across at her mum who looked like she was about to fall asleep on the sofa right where she was. She’d never been this relaxed when she first rocked up in Mapleberry.

Audrey headed up to bed feeling like at last they were something resembling a family, disjointed but getting there. It left a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. It had almost been easier when she hated her home life, when she’d dreamed of being far away from all of this. Her heart sank. New Zealand. The country that had been on her wish list for ever, when ‘family’ to her consisted of nothing more than her and her mum sniping at each other, getting on edge about every little thing, when Gran wasn’t a part of her life, when Mapleberry was simply a place where an old lady lived that they didn’t have much to do with.

And now there was Layla too. She thought of Audrey as a sister and a little part of Audrey’s heart sang when she thought of her that way too. Was New Zealand still what she really wanted? Could she really go there for good and turn her back on everything and everyone else?

Why did life have to be so hard?

She hadn’t heard from her dad in over a week, not since he’d thanked her for the parcels she’d sent. He always gave her money for Christmas, a lot of cash, and she had a great time every year spending it in the sales. It was something she looked forward to but this year she’d planned on saving the money to put towards her travel. Seeing it mount up as she waited for the visa would be motivation enough to know her dream was real.

She sent off a quick email to her dad. She always found it easy to talk to him this way, better than on the phone when he had the distractions of his other kids in the background or concentrating on a road if he had her on hands-free as he drove to work. She told him all about the big tree in Mapleberry and its impressive lights against the night sky, she said they’d put up the tree here at Gran’s and she ended her message asking him what he’d done so far for her visa. He hadn’t told her anything, she assumed no news was good news, but she was getting tired of waiting and to know what she really wanted, she needed to know how far along the line she was. Whether she’d stop the process she wasn’t sure, but maybe she’d know when he filled her in.

When her phone pinged with a text message, she thought it was her dad already. Sometimes it came up with unknown number if he called from work but he never normally messaged.

It didn’t take long to work out who it was actually from and she held her breath for a second. Her palms clammy, she lay back on her bed with an enormous smile on her face. The phone hovered in the air in her hands as she read the message a few times. It was from Alex, the Alex. He said he’d seen her at the tree tonight but he’d been with his brothers so hadn’t come over to say hello, and he’d seen her dad there so was worried he wouldn’t like it.

Audrey messaged him back, fingers flying over the keys as she explained it wasn’t her dad but a neighbour. She told him how impressed she was with the tree; it was far bigger than any she’d seen before. They messaged about science class and the accident he and his friend had when one of them caught their shirt alight on a Bunsen burner, he told her about the time he and the same friend had stripped off in the boat after a race one season and gone skinny dipping. That one hadn’t gone down well with the coach but Audrey thought it was pretty funny. Alex was hot, fun, a complete escape. She stared at her phone willing him to reply and each time he did, she savoured every word, particularly the last text.

She clutched her phone against her chest. He’d asked her out. Alex Ratcliffe had asked her out!

And although she set her alarm for bright and early, she didn’t think she’d get a wink of sleep.

Chapter Four

Audrey

Gran hovered at the window the next morning when the bin trucks rolled along Mapleberry Lane and came to a standstill outside the front of the house, and after she’d counted how many men she could see, Audrey picked up the cardboard box filled with brownies to take out to them. The guy tipped his cap at her in thanks, shy, but wished her a Merry Christmas and waved over to Gran hovering in the doorway. The recycling truck came right after the garbage truck so Audrey ran down the path to grab the second box and handed them over to one of the guys she’d said hello to last week. He told her he’d take them back to eat once they’d finished their shift. ‘Thank you!’ he bellowed over to Gran with a wave. She was hovering in the doorway. ‘She’s always got a smile for us,’ he confided to Audrey. ‘Most people don’t talk to us unless it’s to moan we’re taking up the whole street with our trucks.’

Audrey suspected it was the most conversation he’d had with a resident on the street and it gave her a little buzz to know she’d helped. ‘Enjoy the brownies, they’re the best.’

He patted a portly tummy. ‘I’m sure I will. And Merry Christmas.’

‘Merry Christmas,’ Audrey smiled in return before she went back inside to grab her school bag and head off.

Alex had texted her this morning to say he wouldn’t be at school today. To be honest she was glad as it would give her the day to settle down after he’d asked her out - not that they’d arranged a date yet, but it was coming, she just knew it. She had a test today and wanted to do well, which she wouldn’t do if she was too distracted. It was new to her, this eagerness at school, but life was far easier doing it that way.

After school Audrey let herself into the house.

‘I’m getting a cat!’ was the first thing to come out of Gran’s mouth as she charged towards Audrey.

‘The cat from the Facebook post? That’s amazing – when?’

‘The day after tomorrow. The owner is passing on Claude’s scratching post and little bed, and I’ve ordered the right food, a litter tray and some cat litter.’

‘I’m almost as excited as you are,’ Audrey beamed. She’d never had a pet either. She’d gone through a phase of wanting a dog, then a cat, then a gerbil and then an iguana, but it had never happened. She suspected she’d been so fickle, her parents and then Sam when it was just the two of them worried that if she got one, she’d soon lose interest.

Gran pointed to a Christmas card on the mantelpiece. ‘From the bin men,’ she told Audrey.

Audrey screwed her nose up. ‘Another person’s trash is someone else’s treasure?’

‘I don’t think they got it from a bin,’ Gran admonished with a roll of her eyes. ‘One of them popped it through the door, said we’re the first to remember them in the whole of the seven years he’s worked this area.’

‘Well done to The Kindness Club,’ Audrey said proudly. ‘Was it the man I was talking to this morning?’ Gran nodded. ‘He was nice.’

Without even leaving the house, Gran was slowly becoming a part of the community whether she realised it or not. ‘Where’s Mum?’

‘Out Christmas shopping.’ Apron on, Gran headed back into the kitchen calling over her shoulder, ‘She worked all day but headed off to find an outfit, something about attending a friend’s wedding on Saturday.’

‘Talking of Saturday, I’ll be out in the evening.’ Audrey followed after her to see milk in a pan and proper chocolate melts ready to go. ‘Hot chocolate?’

‘When your mum gets home,’ Gran smiled. ‘Where are you off to on Saturday?’

‘Friends are going for a movie and pizza, that’s OK, right? It’s not a school night. It’ll be a great way to celebrate the end of term. We’re breaking up so close to Christmas this year.’

‘I don’t know why schools can’t give the kids a bit longer at Christmas; they wear you out these days. Who’s going on this pizza and film night?’ she asked in the next breath.

‘Oh, just the usual,’ Audrey shrugged. And to avoid being specific, she went off to get changed, which took for ever because it involved stopping every other minute to message Alex. Luckily she didn’t have any homework set for tonight so she could let her concentration go, especially after today’s science test. For once she thought she might have done well in it, possibly down to the fact she’d actually revised.

Sam was home by the time Audrey came downstairs. Darkness had descended over Mapleberry, leaving only the streetlamps outside and Audrey put the tree lights on and switched the main light in the lounge off. With the fresh hot chocolates, with extra chocolate curls laid on the frothy tops until they vanished into the hot liquid, all three of them sat around the table comparing their days.

‘I found a bit of ketchup on the carpet by the sofa when I was vacuuming up pine needles today,’ Gran admitted. ‘Must’ve been Layla from fish and chip night.’

Audrey saw her mum’s mouth twitch in amusement. ‘Did the mark come out?’

‘It didn’t, but don’t worry, I dragged the sofa over it.’

Sam took a sip of hot chocolate to hide a smile. Back in the summer Gran would never have reacted so flippantly. She moved on to telling them both about the wedding she’d been invited to in Cheshire, near where they’d once lived. ‘Funny how Sophie from my primary school ended up living so close and I never realised until I came back down here. She got in touch a couple of months ago on Instagram and we’ve been messaging ever since.’

‘You don’t mind going to the wedding alone?’ Gran asked.

‘Not now she’s told me I’ll be seated on a table of ten, all of whom are single.’

‘Oh no, they’re not going to try to pair you up with anyone, are they?’

‘I hadn’t thought of that. Great, now I’ll be nervous. What do you think I should do with my hair – up or down?’ She clutched some of it to give the impression of what it could like if she used pins and some styling and Audrey found herself offering to help.

‘I could do your hair and make-up, if you’ll let me.’

‘She’s good, I can vouch for that.’ Gran touched her hair, part of the grand make-over and although Audrey hadn’t been the one holding the scissors, Gran liked to remind her that it had been her magic that introduced a bit of style.

‘Would you mind, Audrey?’ Sam used her spoon to scrape out the last remnants of chocolate from the mug.

‘Happy to do it. I’ve got some big rollers we could put in that would give it some bounce, and I think leave it down, the colour’s good already and it’s more you.’ It was a softer look for Sam too. Sometimes it looked too harsh when she scraped her hair up, and Audrey was all for curating a more relaxed version of her mum who used to be a giant stress ball before they moved down here.

‘I’m leaving just before lunch on Saturday so if we could do it in the morning, that would be ideal,’ Sam smiled.

Gran got on with making a comforting shepherd’s pie for dinner while Sam agreed on make-up colours, and Audrey made sure the fire was ready to light after they ate so they could all relax with the lights of the tree, perhaps even a festive movie.

When Audrey’s phone pinged she thought it might be Alex, but it was Layla via Charlie’s phone. She groaned.

‘What’s up?’ Sam asked.

‘Every December Layla writes a letter to Father Christmas and she puts it into the flames of the open fire. When it burns, the wishes travel up to the North Pole, or something like that.’

‘I miss the magic of Christmas as a kid,’ Sam confessed.

‘Don’t we all,’ Veronica agreed but moved on quickly. ‘Has Layla written her letter?’

Audrey turned the phone to show them the photograph. ‘You can just about see it in the flames. She wants to know if we’ve done ours. She’s really keen we all do it at the same time so the wishes go to the North Pole together.’

‘I’ll get the paper and pens,’ Gran said, ‘We’d better get a move on or she’ll be going off to her swimming lesson. They’re having some kind of end of term party tonight.’

Armed with their equipment, they each had to think of a wish. ‘It can be anything,’ Audrey prompted, ‘but we don’t need to share it; we fold them over and put them into the fire. And we’ll take a photo for Layla. She’s desperate to see it,’ she added when Layla hurried them along with another text. The girl was bossy for sure but Audrey kind of liked it. Some nights she’d dreamed of her half-siblings in New Zealand and wondered what life with them would be like. Would they hang out together like she did with Layla? Would they get up to mischief? Would they even like each other?

All of them scribbled away although Audrey’s wish hadn’t been as easy to write down as she’d first thought. If you’d asked her a month or two ago, it would be one thing and one thing only – to go to New Zealand to live with my dad. Other than that it could’ve been to get her mum out of her life, or to go to college and study to be a make-up artist. But now, she had friends, she had family, she might even have a boyfriend. She was building a future without realising it. With all of that came a certain amount of confusion, but what she did know was that all of those things had been about her. And now, there was someone else who needed this wish more.

She scribbled down her wish – to get Gran her life back. A few simple words, but it was what she really wanted. And she folded her note before placing it between two logs right at the back, making it stick out enough that Layla would see it easily in a photograph.

‘Mum, put yours in, and you, Gran.’

All three pieces of folded paper stuck out from between chunky logs as another text arrived from an impatient Layla.

‘Where are the matches?’ Sam rooted around behind the log basket, she looked on the mantelpiece and then on the windowsill.

‘Here, got them.’ Audrey picked up the box she’d found inside the log basket, but it was empty. And when her phone pinged yet again, she took a photograph of the fireplace as it was. She’d send another when they finally got the thing lit. ‘That’ll keep her quiet, at least until after swimming, when I’m sure she’ll be onto me again if I don’t send a better photo.’

When Sam’s phone rang upstairs, her mum went to answer it. Gran was alerted by the oven timer and as Audrey puzzled over how to light the fire when Gran didn’t even have a gas hob to get a flame going, she wondered what the others had written for their wishes. Had they gone for frivolous Christmas presents or meaningful thoughts like hers? Was she included in their wishes at all?

She could hear her mum laughing away on the phone upstairs – probably the bride-to-be; they’d apparently earned the collective nickname of ‘the gigglepots’ at primary school. Gran was making up some gravy to go with the shepherd’s pie with her attention fixed on the stove. And although Audrey knew it was naughty and told herself it wasn’t right, she couldn’t help but sneak towards the fireplace and very carefully unfold each of the other two notes in turn.

Her mum had wished for Audrey to be her friend, and Audrey just about burst into tears when she read those words. It was easy to forget her mum had a sensitive side, that she was a person who had strengths and needs as well as flaws.

But it was Gran’s Christmas wish that had her the most perplexed. As soon as she’d seen the words, when she heard Gran call for her to set the table, she put it back in exactly the same place as it had been before.

Find Eddie and tell him I’m sorry, was all Gran’s note had said. And those words went around and around Audrey’s head while she found the cutlery from the drawer and positioned it beside the three placemats already at the table.

Who was Eddie? And why did Gran have to apologise to him?

‘Found some!’ Sam came running down the stairs and Audrey stood up abruptly. She must’ve looked guilty but Sam didn’t pick up on it. Instead she brandished a box of matches. ‘I had a box upstairs in the bathroom where I use my candles. Mum, come in here a second – we’re lighting the fire so we can get the picture off to Layla.’

Gran joined them, Sam lit the kindling and paper, and they watched as the flames roared into action, their wishes shrivelling up at the corners, and soon their embers took off up the chimney, carried far, far away.

And when Audrey sat down to dinner, not only did she want her wish to come true, she wanted all three of them to get what they wanted.

But most of all she wanted to know who Eddie was.

Chapter Five

Sam

Sam fastened on her badge for another Kindness Club meeting. Both Audrey’s and Layla’s schools had finished with a half day, which worked out well, because they had wreaths to make for some of the front doors in Mapleberry. It was a last-minute decision from Veronica when she saw ‘Add some surprise cheer to someone’s Christmas’ on the kindness calendar. She also wanted to do these wreaths for the people who’d sent her a card this year and told her how good it was to see a tree in her window this Christmas.

This morning Sam had worked the early shift at the café and then driven to the florist to collect the mossy wreaths that had already been covered in greenery and were ready to decorate. She’d also picked up a supply of holly and ivy, floristry wire, fresh and colourful berries, pine cones, sparkly twigs and cinnamon sticks.

‘He’s loving this,’ said Audrey, dragging a piece of silver ribbon around the lounge floor for Claude the cat to chase, pounce on, roll over with.

Veronica scooped up her cat. Since Claude had been delivered yesterday to his new home, she had been enraptured by the feline. He’d taken to her quickly enough, cautious at first, but Veronica was wrong about not knowing a thing about animals. They needed love and attention and she put no limits on that.

‘Now,’ said Veronica, ‘what will we do with you?’ She had Claude in her arms, his paws up in the air like a baby, as she took him to the study where she’d put his scratching post. ‘I’ll feed him, that’s the easiest thing to do,’ she told the others.

With Claude safely tucked away, Sam watched her mum as they worked with the accessories to make festive wreaths. Her wish in the fireplace had been for Audrey to be her friend, but if she’d been able to wish for anything extra it would’ve been for her mum to change. Not to change the woman she was, but to evolve into the woman she could be. She wanted her mum to find a peace, a happiness she didn’t quite have yet, although the appearance of Claude seemed to elicit a certain kind of joy.

Since she’d talked to her mum about Simon and Audrey, Sam sensed she had been on the verge of divulging more truths than she had realised were lurking in the background. Her mum had said Sam worshipped her dad, that he could do no wrong in her eyes, and she couldn’t deny this. Had Sam failed her mum in some way by laying all the blame at her feet? Was there more to the story than she’d been led to believe?

‘We’re good at this.’ Audrey smiled as they each took what they needed, winding and pushing extra elements into the greenery.

‘That’s because you’re arty,’ Sam complimented her, looking at the way she’d added red berries around a few silver twigs, interwoven holly with pine cones and added the same green velvet ribbon they’d wrapped the gifts in to her wreath so it was all ready to tie to a front door. Audrey had done some reconnaissance of the houses they’d chosen and they were good to go with all of them – some had hooks already there but no wreath yet, the others all had a knocker that would be easy to use to thread the ribbon through.

‘All these people who I haven’t heard of or who haven’t contacted me in years and have sent a card to say how good it is to see my tree,’ said Veronica, ‘they’ll all be getting a wreath. Well, apart from Mavis Turner, Niall Bent and the couple from number seventeen, because they all have one already.’

‘I think if we’d had to do another three wreaths, my hands would start yelling at me,’ declared Sam.

‘Veronica has good hand cream in the kitchen,’ Layla told her. ‘We bought it for her last year – it’s proper gardener’s hand cream.’

‘Is that right?’ Sam went and found the hand cream as Audrey tied the last bow onto another wreath. Layla’s artistic skills had been flamboyant, adding way too much but Audrey had tactfully shown her how less could indeed be more.

Audrey and Layla pulled on their coats for operation Add a Wreath as Claude sensed he was missing out on all the fun and came trotting through to the lounge again. Veronica scooped him up before he could get up to too much mischief and followed the girls to the door.

‘Remember,’ said Veronica, say “From Veronica at number nine”, and then if they say anything else, just add, “Merry Christmas”. And make sure the one with the tartan bow goes on Morris’s door,’ Veronica added before they set off along Mapleberry Lane and beyond. ‘And stay together, it’s dark.’

They went away giggling.

Sam hadn’t missed the way her mum talked about Morris, how her cheeks pinked up a little every time she said his name. Not a bad-looking chap, as it happened, and from reading his comments on Facebook she had no doubt he had a good heart.

Sam put the rest of the wreaths out on the front door step for the girls to collect and do round two. ‘You like this man, don’t you?’ She ran a finger up and down Claude’s cheek as he purred in Veronica’s arms in the hallway.

‘Morris? He’s nice.’

Sam shut the front door and followed her mum through to the kitchen. ‘I’m happy for you.’ She picked up some of the ribbon off-cuts and stray pieces of twig.

‘And I for you,’ she added, to Sam’s surprise. ‘Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed the way Charlie looks at you.’

‘He’s a lovely guy.’ With her mum’s arms out of action thanks to Claude, Sam took out a dustpan and brush to rid the table of whatever remnants the wreaths had left behind and reached for a cloth to start wiping it down.

‘Lovely – that’s it?’

Sam tried to hide a smile and let her hair fall around her face to hide any sign she might be giving away about how she felt when it came to Charlie. There was no way she could introduce romance in her life any time soon, she had plenty to deal with for now, so she’d just have to do her best to dampen her feelings when he was around.

‘Are you going to do anything about it?’

Sam put the rubbish into the bin, carrying on as normal to throw her mum off the scent. She hadn’t talked to her mother about boys even when she was a teenager, let alone now as an adult. ‘I’m not going to do anything apart from pour myself a glass of wine and relax.’ She held out a glass to Veronica. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked when her mum shook her head.

‘I haven’t touched a drop in years. Although I was thinking perhaps you could get a bottle of Baileys Irish Cream for Christmas. I always liked that, with lots of ice.’

‘Done, consider it on the list.’ Sam peered in the freezer, found there were no ice-cubes and filled each of the trays she found in the cupboard. ‘Now we’re prepared.’

They sat and talked about the food they’d have for the big day, their first family Christmas in a long time, except there would always be certain people missing. But for now, this was enough. Usually Sam and Audrey had Christmas at home on their own, one year they’d been to Jilly’s, but mostly Audrey sat through the dinner and scarpered with friends in the afternoon.

Audrey was back less than an hour later after delivering all the wreaths. She’d already taken Layla home. She stroked Claude between the ears, he was comfortably curled up on the arm of Veronica’s chair, paws tucked beneath him, eyes sleepily opening every now and then to check his surroundings. He’d well and truly made himself at home.

‘Did anyone catch you in the act?’ Sam wanted to know when Veronica went to the bathroom.

‘One person. Morris,’ she whispered conspiratorially.

‘What’s he like? I’m desperate to know.’

‘He’s lovely, like you said, a total silver fox. When I said who sent the wreath you should’ve seen him – it looked like all his Christmas wishes had come true.’

‘Whose Christmas wishes?’ Gran came back and settled into her chair, and Claude’s tail lifted in a sign of approval.

‘Morris,’ said Audrey smugly. ‘I met your man.’

‘Oh be off with you, he’s not my man.’

Audrey looped an arm across her gran’s shoulders. ‘Chill, Gran, he’s a cool dude.’

‘That means nothing to me.’

‘He’s really nice. He says to thank you for the wreath, he’ll send you a message soon, and I was to tell you he hasn’t had a fresh one hanging on his door in years.’ She took out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. ‘Here, a photograph of it.’ She swiped to the side. ‘And another of him with it. I could print it out for you if you like, you could keep it by your bed.’

‘Audrey,’ Sam warned, ‘That’s enough teasing.’

The mood was high in the house that evening. Sam poured a second glass of wine, they watched Home Alone together, and when Gran turned in for the night, Audrey helped Sam empty the dishwasher and put everything away.

‘Gran seems to really like Morris,’ said Audrey as she put the knives into the cutlery drawer.

‘I think it’s early days,’ Sam smiled. ‘Let’s see what happens.’

Audrey took out the forks one by one from the plastic cutlery section. ‘Mum, do you know anyone called Eddie?’

The plate she was holding almost slipped from her grip. ‘What makes you ask?’

‘I heard Gran mention the name.’

‘Really?’ Not a chance. Her mum didn’t talk about Eddie to anyone; she hadn’t since the day she told Sam he’d ‘gone to a better place’. Those were her exact words and Sam had never forgotten them.

‘Maybe I misheard.’ Audrey used a tea towel to get the drips off the upside down cups on the top racks before neatly slotting them into the cupboard. She hung the tea towel over the handle of the oven door to dry. ‘I’m off to bed, but I’ll see you for your wedding makeover tomorrow.’

‘Goodnight.’ This was a start, a border crossed perhaps, and the start of them being not only mother and daughter but good friends too. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

Sam looked through the window into the darkness, at the garden that hadn’t changed a bit since she was a child. The only differences were the moss growing on the roof of the shed, which seemed to build up each time she came here, the rockery that had sprigs of colour in the right season, and the low wall separating the patio from the lawn, which had been repaired and was now straight enough to sit on comfortably. Even the washing line was the same, one strand broken the way it had been when Sam was a kid.

She looked at the Christmas shopping list she and her mum had drawn up together. She’d be shopping for all of that in the morning with Charlie, and so before the weight of the name Eddie being mentioned in passing by the daughter who knew nothing of him got too much, Sam headed off to bed. She’d do her best not to let thoughts of her little brother creep into her head tonight. Those dreams never ended well, much like reality she supposed.

Charlie took charge of the trolley in the supermarket, which was heaving even though they still had a few shopping days left before Christmas. It was such a long time since Sam had had a man at her side to do a food shop; she was enjoying floating up and down the aisles, choosing exactly what they needed, adding a few extras that weren’t on the list. Dampening down her feelings for Charlie was getting more difficult by the day and every time he smiled her way, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep up the pretence she was happily single.

‘Now those are definitely on the list.’ Charlie stopped next to the luxury pigs in blankets, although quite what the difference was from the bulk-standard version at half the price, Sam had no idea, unless it was all down to the fanciness of the packaging.

‘You sure we have enough?’ she asked.

About to answer, he changed his tune. ‘I detect a bit of sarcasm.’

‘There are only five of us.’

Three packets clutched in his hand, he said, ‘About that? Are you sure it’s okay to have Layla and I over at Veronica’s for Christmas? I know it’s a big ask – this is the first year in a while she’s had family around her.’

Without thinking, Sam reached out a hand and put it over one of his. ‘Charlie, you and Layla are as much family to Mum as Audrey and I are, I can see that. You’re coming for Christmas lunch, end of discussion.’

Their gaze held a moment longer until they broke apart when someone asked to get past and he dropped the products into the already sizeable collection of shopping. ‘Just in case,’ he said, snatching one more tray of pigs in blankets from the shelf before Sam could argue the point any further.

She grinned and they walked on to the next aisle to pick up the turkey. They moved to hams, debating which size to go for, onto cold meats and then the prawns. They made sure they had a selection of sweet treats, plenty of gravy powder, ingredients for the stuffing, a box of the tackiest crackers they could find.

‘They’re all rubbish anyway,’ Charlie declared, ‘might as well see if we can make them as terrible as possible.’

‘Agreed.’

‘I hear the Christmas wreaths went down a treat,’ said Charlie as they hovered near the Christmas puddings, perusing the boxes to select whichever sounded the best.

‘The neighbours we chose were incredibly grateful according to Audrey. Particularly Morris.’

‘I’ve heard about Morris,’ he said with a knowing smile.

‘Mum seems rather keen on him and Audrey says he’s lovely.’

‘So why the face?’

She made the final choice for Christmas pudding and added it in; Charlie would get first dibs on ice-cream in the next aisle. ‘Because she’s my mother. Because she has issues. Because she’s seventy-one.’

His laughter bellowed a bit too loudly in the frozen section. ‘Good for her, I say. Romance and sex don’t die because you reach seventy, or forty for that matter.’

Sam, watching the scar on his lip as he spoke, moving each time he laughed, side-stepped the reference to their own ages. ‘I know it doesn’t. But…’

‘It’s your mother.’ He opened up a freezer compartment, shivered at the rush of cold air and pulled out a big tub of mince pie flavoured ice-cream.

Sam nodded in agreement before he added it to the already-full trolley. ‘It’s my mother.’

They grabbed two big bottles of Baileys Irish Cream before they left and back at his house they unloaded as many items as would fit in his freezer, saving the things for the main meal for Veronica’s house. And after they’d crammed everything into the fridge at number nine, Sam walked Charlie to the end of the path.

She looked up at the sky, him on one side of the little gate, her on the other. ‘That was a snowflake.’

‘You’re imagining it.’

‘I am not! There, another one.’ And when one landed on his cheek she reached out for it to prove it to him but it melted on the tip of her finger. ‘I promise it was there.’

‘I believe you. There’s one in your hair.’ But he didn’t attempt to reach it, instead he was looking down at her and she felt her stomach flip.

‘I wish you were coming to this wedding with me.’ She should’ve asked him, told him she needed a plus-one.

‘I’m working later, I couldn’t have gone with you. You know, had you asked me when you got the invite…’ he teased.

She gave him a playful nudge at the gate. ‘I’ll see you again soon, Charlie.’

‘You can count on it.’

She stayed at the gate the whole time he walked down the lane, up his own garden path and waved from his front door.

And when she finally went inside she told her mum, ‘Not a word.’ She hadn’t missed the hopeful look on Veronica’s face; it was the same look that came Sam’s way every time Charlie’s name was mentioned.

‘I’m not saying anything, well apart from you’d better get your skates on.’

She checked the time. ‘I thought we were quicker than that. Is Audrey out of the bathroom?’

‘She’s gone to do a bit of Christmas shopping in the village. Bathroom is all yours.’

Sam had a long, luxurious shower. Even though she didn’t have as much time as she’d planned, she was usually generous in her estimates and she still had plenty to spare for hair and make-up. She used her matching Chanel Coco shower gel, plus body lotion and put on jeans and a shirt for travel. She laid out the silk navy and caramel dress with dropped shoulders and a tie belt which would go perfectly with the Ted Baker heels she hadn’t worn since she’d stopped working in an office. Her uniform was now far more casual and although she was looking forward to dressing up this afternoon, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to doing it full time. It was oddly liberating not to have to do it.

When she heard the door go she trotted down the stairs, excited to get going with her hair and see what magic Audrey could weave. They’d planned large rollers, sexy waves, subtle make-up colours that brought out her blue eyes. She hadn’t fought the make-up artist career choice in a while. Strangely it didn’t seem all that important these days, or perhaps she was finally seeing the person her daughter had become.

‘I’m all yours.’ She smiled at Audrey, but she didn’t exactly get the reception she’d expected when her daughter glared back at her, hands firmly planted on her hips. ‘Everything all right?’ Sam asked.

‘You tell me.’ Audrey even ignored poor Claude, who weaved between her ankles, desperate for some attention.

‘I’m lost,’ said Sam. A moment ago she’d been all relaxed, the afterglow of a morning with Charlie lingering enough to light her up inside.

‘When were you going to tell me?’ Audrey yelled, bringing Veronica out from the kitchen.

‘Tell you what?’

‘That you’ve known for months that Dad doesn’t want me to go to New Zealand. Not now and probably not ever. Thanks to you.’

‘Audrey, wait a minute. I—’

‘What did you say to him? You must’ve told him how horrible I’ve been, the trouble I’ve got in at school, how I couldn’t choose decent friends, how I was throwing away my future playing with make-up. You put him off having me there. You did, didn’t you?’

‘No, I promise you I didn’t.’

‘You expect me to believe he just changed his mind?’ And with that she stomped up the stairs and slammed the bedroom door so hard both Sam and Veronica jumped.

Her mum grabbed Sam’s arm before she marched on up there. ‘Sam, not now. You’ve got a wedding to go to and the last thing you need is to rush because you’re late. You need to go and do your hair and your make-up and then drive safely and calmly. Please.’

Sam’s heart thudded. Why hadn’t she told Audrey the truth, that her dad didn’t want her? That he was a selfish prick and expected everyone else to fit their lives around him?

She knew why not. Because Audrey would find a way of blaming her like she had just now.

Sam should know because Sam had done it to Veronica enough times.

Chapter Six

Audrey

Audrey was a little bit calmer when she came downstairs ready to go and meet her friends. But the anger was still bubbling away inside after the confrontation with her mum. How could she poison her dad’s mind against her and make him not want her to go to New Zealand? It was cruel, that’s what it was. And just like that, the closeness she was beginning to feel had been thrown right back in her face.

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she warned her gran the second she saw her.

‘Fair enough.’ Gran smiled. ‘Don’t you look lovely.’

Audrey managed a smile. She was excited about going out with friends, but nervous too. Alex would be there and he’d already said he’d like to spend some time alone with her after the pizza restaurant. He’d suggested he walk her home and her tummy was doing somersaults every time she thought about it, whenever she recalled the details of their text messages that had flown back and forth while she tried to style her hair, put on some make-up, and chopped and changed her mind about what to wear at least a dozen times. She’d settled on her favourite ripped jeans with an off-the-shoulder jumper as soft as the skin on her delicate collarbones. Alex had asked her once if she was a dancer; she looked so graceful, he’d said. The thought of his compliment made her giddy now but she hadn’t let on to her gran that she might be spending time with only Alex later on.

‘What’s the movie?’ Veronica asked.

Glad they weren’t talking about Mum, Dad or New Zealand, she told Gran what they were seeing at the local cinema. ‘There’s a showing of It’s a Wonderful Life.’

‘Well, that’s something I wholly approve of.’ She pulled her granddaughter in for a hug. ‘Do you have your house key?’

‘Yes, Gran.’

‘And you have enough money? You’ll be back no later than eleven o’clock?’

‘Yes, Gran, I have enough money, and yes, Gran, I’ll be back by curfew,’ she smiled.

‘I’m not sure about you walking in the dark, although Mapleberry is quite safe.’

‘Gran, stop worrying.’ She kissed her on the cheek. ‘And have a lovely evening.’

Gran waved her off and Audrey made her way past the playground and over to the main street in the village. She waved at Clare who was bustling around inside the Mapleberry Mug serving customers, continued on her way and with her friends already at the cinema, she did her best not to make it too obvious she was scanning faces for Alex.

‘He’ll be here,’ Vicky whispered so the others couldn’t hear.

Audrey almost thought he wasn’t going to turn up but as they stood in line to buy tickets with a crowd who all seemed a lot older than they were, she heard a deep voice at her side, and caught a waft of the aftershave he used at school.

Vicky made sure Alex and Audrey sat next to each other for the movie and the group of seven chatted away until the lights dimmed and the movie began. It was then his hand drifted to hers, their fingers linked and she held her breath so long she wondered how she’d make it to the end of the movie with these unfamiliar feelings whooshing around inside of her.

‘I’m not really in the mood for pizza,’ Alex told her when the credits rolled and they began to file out. ‘I’ve got some beers in my bag,’ he whispered, sending her insides into meltdown he got so close. ‘We could go somewhere, just the two of us.’

She turned to him but Vicky snatched her away to go to the ladies.

‘You should go,’ Vicky urged the minute they were behind closed doors.

‘You heard what he said?’

‘I did, and this is your chance. I knew it!’ She clapped her hands together. ‘I told you he liked you.’

‘He really does, doesn’t he? But what about pizza? I don’t want to desert you all.’

‘Don’t even think about it – just promise me you will tell me everything.’ She hugged Audrey. ‘And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

Back in the foyer the others drifted off and Alex, who’d been leaning up against the marble pillar near the front desk, came her way.

‘So, that was fun,’ he said as they met with the night air, walking side-by-side down the front steps of the classic old building housing the independent cinema. Gran had told her that fifteen years ago there had been plans to demolish it, as well as part of the woods surrounding Mapleberry, and build a big complex with shops, restaurants and a bigger cinema, but locals had put up a fight and it never happened. Audrey was kind of glad. Even though she hadn’t known the village before, she liked it just the way it was, more cosy, a bit romantic.

‘It was a good movie,’ Audrey replied, doing up her top button. Inside she’d been so warm next to him she’d almost forgotten it was winter outside.

‘I wasn’t talking about the movie.’

Audrey didn’t want to put her gloves on in case Alex held her hand. She didn’t care about the cold, the threat of frostbite. It would all be worth it for him.

‘Where are we going?’ They were heading across the road towards the woodland that surrounded Mapleberry, not the same side as the field with the beautiful Christmas tree she’d been to see with her mum, but the dense area she’d never been to.

‘You’ll see,’ he grinned. He took her hand and when their fingers slotted together the same way they had for the entire movie, her tummy fluttered just like before.

Audrey’s excitement pushed away the fury caused by her mum. They’d been so close looking at the tree, working on the kindness calendar together, both of them a part of Gran’s life as she began to find her way again. And what had it all been for? Nothing, as far as Audrey could see now. Her mum still wanted to pull her strings as though she was a puppet she had full control of, and she’d ruined everything with Dad. Audrey had to wonder what sort of doubts her mum had put in his mind, what she had said to convince him she no longer had a place in his new family?

Audrey bit her cheek hard enough that it hurt and scared away a tear threatening to escape. She sneaked a look at Alex walking alongside her, his mop of dark hair almost in his eyes, a slight dimple on his cheek that seemed to let him get away with a lot at school. Mrs Masters in English the other day had been ready to tear shreds from him for handing in some homework late until he’d flashed her a smile, with an excuse that his mum hadn’t been well, and she’d let him off with a warning.

They followed a track into the woods, unease mounting for Audrey. It was dark, not a single lamppost, not a shop in sight and the only sounds were of the wind and cracking of the branches around them. ‘Was your mum really sick?’ she asked, more because she was nervous than the need to know.

‘What? Oh, you mean my excuse for Mrs Masters. All true, Mum hasn’t been well for a while.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be, it is what it is.’ He didn’t seem to want to talk about it and given how she was on the topic of mothers, she let it be.

They came to a clearing and he set down his bag on an overturned log, took out some beers. He handed one to her after he’d unscrewed the top and then after doing the same to his, clinked his bottle against hers. ‘Cheers, Merry Christmas, Audrey.’

‘Merry Christmas,’ she just about managed. Although she wasn’t sure about beer. She’d had a sip once but never a full bottle.

They sat next to each other on the log, sipping at their beers, Alex laughing every time there was a noise and Audrey almost leapt out of her skin. She didn’t know what she was imagining, they were totally alone – even dog walkers weren’t going to come out here at this time.

They got talking about camping, being out in the middle of nowhere. Alex had been as a kid plenty of times; he couldn’t believe Audrey never had.

‘Mum was never keen,’ she admitted. ‘Dad would be though.’

‘Yeah? What’s he like?’

Audrey told Alex all about her dad, his new life, the photographs he sent and the stories he told from the other side of the world. ‘His whole life is like one big adventure.’ An adventure she’d no longer be a part of, it seemed.

Alex cracked open another beer but Audrey was still working on her first. She took another gulp, not wanting to seem boring.

They talked more about school, laughing at some of their teachers’ efforts to make their lessons interesting. ‘It’s as though they think if they dress it up enough,’ said Alex, ‘chemistry will become this really interesting subject all of a sudden. Do you think they’re waiting for us to have a light bulb moment and suddenly declare we love it?’

Audrey laughed. He was good company as she’d known he would be, but when she glanced at her watch, she realised they’d been talking away for so long that her time was nearly up. It was marching on towards eleven o’clock but before she could mention it, Alex pulled her to her feet. ‘Look up,’ he smiled.

She tipped her head back and sure enough, a sliver of moon had crept out from its hiding place and in a sky peppered with stars in the gap right above them, it was as though it were their own private display, a slice of magic nobody else could see. ‘Wow,’ she breathed, not feeling the cold at all.

When she turned to look at him she almost stumbled back because his face drew close and all of a sudden he was kissing her.

Audrey didn’t think it was possible for another person to feel this good. The only boy she’d ever kissed was at a Halloween party when she was ten. And that had only been a peck on the lips, nothing on this level. Alex had the softest lips, even with a hint of stubble grazing her chin every now and then as their mouths explored and grasped at something new. His hand that wasn’t holding the beer made her shiver when it sneaked beneath her hair and pulled her closer. She wanted to put her arms around him but didn’t know what to do with her own bottle.

And then he was kissing her with an urgency she wasn’t sure about. His mouth left her lips, moved down her neck and across just below her ear lobe and he was making noises of pleasure that gave off a warning sign she couldn’t ignore. She thought she might have said his name, she wasn’t sure, but in the next moment she heard a smash and realised she’d dropped her beer. It had hit a piece of rock and shattered everywhere, the broken fragments glinting in the light of the moon.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, grabbing her arm, and she pulled away angrily. He held up his hands. ‘I just didn’t want you to stand on the glass.’

‘I…I…’ This was embarrassing. She’d reacted as though he was pushing her around when he was only trying to help. What could she say now? She’d made a total idiot of herself. He was popular, she was new to the school. Was he expecting something to happen, something more than a kiss?

He kept saying her name but every time he got closer she pulled away. ‘I have to go home.’ She started to run.

‘Audrey, wait!’ His voice came after her. ‘Audrey…’

But his voice faded because she was moving fast, weaving in and out of trees, getting as far away from trouble as she could.

But whatever way she turned, she couldn’t find her way out. She came up to one thicket after another, faced with a maze of woodland that would pose a challenge in the day never mind at night.

Audrey would’ve given anything right now to be home at Gran’s house, tucked up in her nice warm bed.

Instead, here she was, out in the elements and she didn’t know what to do.

Chapter Seven

Veronica

After Audrey went out, Veronica had shut the front door to her home and for the first time in a long while, the walls held a peculiar silence she wasn’t used to anymore. She’d soon put the radio on for some company and revelled in some Christmas carols, something else she’d missed experiencing but had slowly begun to enjoy again with Layla playing so many on the piano.

Veronica was glad Sam was spending the night away. It might give both her and Audrey a chance to get a bit of perspective after their confrontation earlier. Sam could let her hair down at the wedding, Audrey could have a good time with her with friends, and perhaps when Sam came back to Mapleberry tomorrow afternoon they could both be rational. And it was time Audrey learned a few home truths about her own father. Veronica would’ve told her some earlier if she’d thought it would help. But she hadn’t wanted to interfere. She’d got most of her family back and this time she’d do anything not to let it go.

She added another log to the fire. It was really getting cold and although she couldn’t wait for the snow, despite the few flakes earlier, she was thankful it wasn’t forecast just yet. Sam had to drive home tomorrow, Audrey was out for the evening – she only wanted snow when she knew everyone was safe.

The fire crackled away and although Claude didn’t quite understand boundaries when she tried to knit, he was getting the hang of it. Every time he swiped for the wool she removed him from the arm of the chair and gave him a stray piece to play with. She made good progress with Layla’s hat, making the pompom to go on top. But when there was a knock at the door and Layla’s little face peeked in at the window, she had to hide the hat and the wool away in her bag. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ she warned Claude who had a crafty eye on the bag.

‘This is a lovely surprise.’ She hadn’t expected her little visitor today. Although Charlie didn’t look too relaxed. ‘You all right?’

‘Stressed. Here’s the thing: Bea has the flu and she can’t have Layla this evening. I’m on a half night shift, last one before my Christmas break, and I can’t find anyone to swap with me.’

‘Say no more – in you come, Layla.’

‘I didn’t want to ask. I can collect her in the early hours if needs be.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, all night is fine by me. Layla can have Sam’s bed – she’s staying over at the wedding venue and won’t be back until lunchtime tomorrow.’

Charlie smiled. ‘So she is, she did mention it, but in my panic I totally forgot. But even so, are you totally sure?’

‘You ask me that every time, and every time I tell you the answer is “yes”.’

‘I don’t really know how to repay you. You’re a life-saver. It was either this or I volunteer to swap tonight for Christmas.’

‘No, you’re not doing that. Now go and get Layla’s things and drop them over. Everyone’s out anyway and I’m already lonely. Claude doesn’t say much.’ Layla sniggered.

His face relaxed into a smile. ‘You’re used to having company.’

‘It didn’t take long to change my ways,’ she agreed.

Charlie was there and back in no time; all the child really needed were some pyjamas and a toothbrush and the teddy bear she slept with every night and she’d be fine.

‘Well, this is an adventure, Layla.’ Veronica took out a portion of frozen Bolognese. ‘I’ll boil up some pasta and we’ll have this for tea. I was only going to have a sandwich but a growing child like you needs more than that. Now, what pasta do you like? We have spaghetti, rigatoni, tagliatelle or penne.’

‘Spaghetti!’ Layla said excitedly. ‘That one’s the most fun.’

‘And the messiest.’

‘Can I practice my piano?’

‘Off you go, this will take twenty minutes or so.’ She switched off the radio and the silence that had made her uncomfortable a short while ago was gone, and Veronica couldn’t be sorry. Layla was going to impress her dad with these carols come Christmas Eve, she was sure of it. They’d kept it a secret for so long, quite how they’d managed she’d never know, but they had and it was going to be the best gift for Charlie.

Veronica and Layla shared dinner and conversation before settling in front of a Christmas movie with nothing but each other and the Christmas lights for company. And Claude of course.

When Layla yawned yet again, Veronica suggested she get ready for bed. ‘Come on, do your teeth and get into those pyjamas while I get your bed ready for you,’ she said, leading the way.

‘Do you think my daddy will ask your Sam on a date?’ Layla suddenly asked.

Veronica laughed at the direct question as they reached the top of the stairs. ‘Would you mind if he did?’

‘Of course not, I want it to happen.’ She gasped and covered her mouth. ‘Do you think it won’t come true now? I wasn’t supposed to say it out loud.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about that. The wish made its way up to the North Pole plenty of time ago – I’m sure it’s being dealt with by Father Christmas and all his helpers.’

‘Do you really think so?’

‘I know so.’

While Layla did her teeth, Veronica tugged the sheets from Sam’s bed and as she did so, something colourful dropped out from beneath them. It took her a moment to realise what it was: the teddy bear she’d given her years ago, the bear Audrey had mentioned being on Sam’s wardrobe. Veronica had known she had it after Audrey told her, but she hadn’t figured on Sam keeping it with her for sleeping. And something tugged at her, the childhood Sam had missed because of her, the girl who’d been happy-go-lucky at one time but not after Veronica became really bad. She bit back a sob when she heard Layla coming in. She only hoped Sam got some comfort from the bear; it’s what she’d always intended when she gave it to her.

‘Check?’ Layla asked, opening her mouth for inspection.

‘I believe you,’ Veronica smiled. ‘I don’t need to check.’

‘Daddy sometimes gets me to use those funny red tablets that leave marks on your teeth.’

‘I remember Sam bringing some of those home from school too. She thought they were a lot of fun – she’d chew them without cleaning her teeth just to shock me.’ It was funny the little things you remembered. They seemed insignificant at the time but it was those fragments of the past that made up the life you once knew. And when you no longer had that life, you’d give anything to piece together those seemingly unimportant occurrences that could give you back a sense of identity.

Veronica put Sam’s teddy on the shelf against one wall and once Layla had arranged her favourite teddy to one side of the bed so she could climb in, she offered to read to Layla.

Layla smiled. Perfectly capable of reading on her own, she said, ‘You can read ten pages. Then I’ll take it from there.’

Trying not to smirk, Veronica perched next to her and opened Jacqueline Wilson’s Dancing the Charleston. And when she’d read her quota – probably three times what Layla suggested, but she wouldn’t let her stop, she left Layla to enjoy more of the story.

‘Lights out by nine,’ she called behind her. ‘I’ll come up again to tuck you in.’

Veronica made a cup of tea, and logged onto Facebook to see if any of her new friends were around. She’d grown accustomed to their banter, there was never big news, but it was good to talk and in a way much easier than on the telephone or in person. It was as though you were able to show a little more of yourself through your words. She couldn’t remember having this kind of kinship since her nursing days and the connections were blossoming more every day.

There was already a message waiting for her from Morris, thanking her for the Christmas wreath. ‘It’s been a long time since anyone gave me anything quite so thoughtful,’ he told her. ‘You get to my age and you feel invisible.’ Veronica told him he was being melodramatic and he liked that she’d called him out on it; he said she challenged him. It wasn’t long before their banter turned a little more personal.

Morris: I need you to help me understand something, Veronica.

Veronica: I’ll do my best.

Morris: I’ve lived in this house for four and a half years. I go to the village high street, I’ve drunk in the pub on occasion when my son comes to visit, I’ve taken my grandson to the play park, which I understand (from my conversation with your beautiful granddaughter when she delivered the wreath) is opposite your home. So why then, have I never seen you? I recognised June from her photograph, Bridget too, but as much as I look at your picture I just can’t place you. I know I’ve never met you before.

On the computer she could be anybody she liked, she could pretend, she didn’t have to be the crazy lady from number nine. Except she wouldn’t lie, not to Morris, already she thought too much of him to do that. They had a lovely group with June and Bridget, but already she felt a special connection with Morris who took their chats into the messages section rather than in the group. Veronica felt like a modern woman with these talks. Was she online dating? It certainly felt like it, especially when she felt this uncomfortable with the conversation.

Veronica: How do you know we’ve never met before? You could’ve passed me in the street any number of times.

Morris: I know I haven’t, I’d remember you…

Veronica: Flattery will get you nowhere, Morris.

Morris: Neither will avoiding my question.

Veronica shut the laptop. Enough for tonight. Her heart was thumping and it reminded her of the times she’d launched into a full-scale panic attack, and that certainly wasn’t on tonight’s agenda.

She left the laptop closed for a good thirty minutes, enough time to go and tell Layla she should pop her light off now. She tucked her in, promised she could play the piano in the morning although not too early if Audrey needed a lie-in.

She looked at her watch. Audrey should be home soon, so she didn’t have too much longer to wait up. Sam probably didn’t remember but she’d always waited up for her too. Sometimes Sam had stayed out until three or four in the morning and Veronica had never got a wink of sleep until she heard the key in the lock, the footsteps on the stairs and seen the strip of light from the bathroom run under the door to her bedroom. Only then had she turned over in bed and gone to sleep.

Veronica looked at her laptop, sitting innocently on the table as though teasing her to open it and answer Morris’s question. He’d probably given up and was watching television instead by now, so she braved typing a response. She could send it now, let him mull over what he thought and she’d face his response in the morning.

She took a deep breath. Morris, June and Bridget had told her things in confidence, a trust had developed between them all, and yet Veronica still hadn’t managed to bring her problem out into the open.

But perhaps she could now tackle this hurdle with the help of Morris’s kindness, which she felt even through a screen, running through wires or however it was the internet connected these days.

She stretched her fingers the way she did before playing the piano, and typed…

Veronica: You won’t have seen me since you moved to Mapleberry because I don’t leave my house. I haven’t left my house in five years.

There, she’d told him. Hands rested in her lap after she pressed the return key. She felt good now it was out there. Another person knew. Audrey talking about agoraphobia, giving it a name when she first realised her Gran had a problem, had been like a slap in the face, but a much-needed one. And telling Morris now, it was another step she’d taken. Quite in what direction she wasn’t sure yet.

She was about to close the laptop for the night when the funny sound came as he sent a reply…

Morris: I knew it … if we’d have bumped into one another we’d both remember … we’d have ended up in the café or the pub, talking nineteen to the dozen, we’d have gone for a walk for hours, getting home long after dark…

Veronica: You’ve been reading too many romance novels…

Morris: I can’t deny it, they’re my guilty pleasure. Tell me this, Veronica from number nine, why don’t you venture out? Mapleberry is a beautiful village, especially in the winter, the big tree on the field all lit up and waiting for people like us to mark another Christmas. You’re missing out…

Veronica: I know I am. And the reasons for my agoraphobia are lengthy. I won’t bore you with them all this late at night.

Morris: Bore away, happy to listen/read. But pause a second, I’m going to need a nightcap first … nice strong whiskey should do it. Get yourself one, I’ve a feeling we’ll need it…

Was this what online flirting was like? Veronica decided she quite liked it! With a giggle that belied her age, she popped the kettle on to make a camomile tea. Anything too strong would have her awake until all hours.

She settled back down with her cup, and when he told her to ‘fire away’ – she could imagine him sipping his whiskey as he took everything in – she poured out the whole story.

When she’d finally finished and her wrists ached from all the typing, she discarded the remains of her tea that had gone cold. But she caught sight of the clock as she did so. Audrey was ten minutes past her curfew now, and she was starting to worry. She almost sent her a message but held back. Ten minutes wasn’t a big deal, was it? She’d probably got carried away chatting to her friends, but her concern had her peeking out of the shutters in the lounge all the same, to see if there was any sign of Audrey. She’d assured her gran she wouldn’t walk home on her own so Veronica had visions of this Alex escorting her home and if she was lucky, she’d catch a glimpse of him.

Veronica did her best to relax and it helped that Morris had already sent another message by the time she got back to her laptop. He told her everyone had their issues, this was hers, and he added in one of those funny GIF moving pictures Audrey had shown her on here, of a teddy bear doing a dance with the words ‘We got this’ above.

Veronica felt tears welling up. She’d kept herself isolated, cooped up for such a long time, missing out on so much. And all it had taken was a bit of time with a laptop to realise even if she never left this house again, she didn’t have to go through life alone – there were people out there willing to go above and beyond to have the friendships she wanted and needed.

She’d told Morris more in these conversations than she’d ever told anyone over the years, but Morris didn’t seem to have given up on her. And even better, he was having a laugh with it all; she was giggling away like a schoolgirl at his witticisms and it was a long time since she’d laughed so hard. How could a friend on the other end of a computer become someone who felt so real, so alive?

She was just beginning to wonder whether he’d ask her to meet in person, when Layla came downstairs rubbing her eyes.

‘Why aren’t you asleep, young lady?’ Veronica was straight up, ushering her back up the stairs.

‘I can’t get to sleep and when I heard you laughing I felt like I was missing out. What were you laughing at?’

‘Just the television.’

‘The television wasn’t on.’

‘I just switched it off a moment ago,’ she fibbed. ‘Now, enough of the questions, you get yourself to sleep or your daddy is not going to be very happy with me when he comes to collect a worn-out little girl.’

‘I know,’ she said excitedly and not at all sleepily. ‘We could do a shift like Daddy, stay up now and then go to bed when he does.’

‘Nice try.’ Veronica pulled the duvet up and gave Layla a kiss on the forehead. ‘Goodnight, again.’

‘Goodnight, again.’

Veronica was about to get back to her messaging when her phone rang. Audrey’s number flashed up on the screen; she hoped this didn’t mean Audrey would be asking to stay out later; she was exhausted and she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep until Audrey was tucked up in her own bed.

She answered the call but she couldn’t make out what Audrey was saying. ‘Audrey, calm down.’ Her heart skipped a beat, panic was beginning to set in. ‘Audrey, please, calm down, I can’t understand a word.’

‘Gran, I can’t get home.’

‘What do you mean you can’t get home? Where are you?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What do you mean, you don’t know?’

She babbled out some more details and from what Veronica could pick up, she’d gone for a walk in the woods with Alex, the boy she was keen on. And then he’d kissed her and she’d run away. He hadn’t hurt her but she was going on about not being sure, not feeling ready, and something about having some beer too.

Veronica did her best to keep calm. ‘Is Alex there now?’

‘I don’t know where he is,’ she shrieked. ‘I don’t know where I am, Gran.’

Veronica hadn’t been in those woods for many years but she knew one thing: they were enormous. Getting lost would be easy. ‘Audrey, can you use the map function on your phone, find your way out somehow?’ She did her best not to think of her granddaughter all alone, frightened, lost.

She waited for Audrey to answer, but the response didn’t come. And when she realised she’d lost the phone signal and couldn’t get an answer again, Veronica felt a familiar warmth rise up in her body. Her breathing was increasing rapidly and the room began to spin. She did her best to take the deep breaths she’d been taught about when she’d tried to manage a panic attack before. But it wasn’t working. She stumbled into the kitchen and almost too dizzy to do so, steadied herself enough to bend down to the bottom drawer. She took out a brown paper bag, pulled the top apart, pushed her face into the opening and shut her eyes and breathed. And she counted in her head, allowing her breath to calm as she did so.

‘Veronica…’ A timid voice came from behind her, where she’d slumped against the wall oven, the bag still over her chin, mouth and nose.

It was Layla. How long had she been there? Judging by the worry on her face, long enough.

She kept the bag in place. A few more breaths, just a few, to get her equilibrium.

Layla’s eyes filled with tears. ‘You’re scaring me.’ She clutched her teddy bear to her chest, her little face creeping further and further behind it.

Veronica at last took the bag away. Layla had already sat at the table. She wouldn’t be going to bed again, not like this. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m fine, honestly.’

She had to focus on Audrey now. She tried her number again, a second time, a third.

Should she call the police?

‘Veronica, what’s happening?’ Layla’s voice brought her back out of her trance.

The laptop on the table made its peculiar incoming message sound and Veronica thought about how happy and relaxed she’d been conversing with Morris, how easy it was to escape the feelings of panic that were usually triggered by far less than what was going on now.

Veronica didn’t answer Layla’s question, instead she brought up Sam’s number on her phone. She was about to hit the green button to make the call when she clicked away from it. Panicking Audrey’s mother when she didn’t have much to tell her was pointless.

And then Veronica’s phone rang again. It was Audrey. ‘Gran, my phone keeps dropping out,’ she panicked. ‘I’m cold, I’m really scared.’

‘Can you hear traffic?’ If she could find her way back to the main road, she’d get her bearings but if she didn’t, she could end up miles away from Mapleberry.

‘No, I can’t hear…’ She broke off. ‘I thought I heard someone coming.’

Veronica shut her eyes, breathed slowly and calmly. ‘Can you see anything at all? Audrey, you need to calm down,’ she said when she heard sobbing, ‘we need a landmark, anything that may help.’ She put as much authority into her voice as she could and stayed on the line until Audrey could name anything that might pinpoint the area of the woods where she was.

‘There’s some water,’ Audrey said all of a sudden. ‘I’ve found a pond I think, not very big.’

Veronica remembered there were a few ponds in the woods, some that had walking trails around them and were accessed from parking areas closer to the roads. ‘Good. Anything else?’

‘Nothing,’ she sighed, although at least she wasn’t crying anymore; she seemed to find having Veronica on the end of the phone a lifeline. ‘Wait, hang on, there’s something on the other side. A stile!’

Veronica knew there were a few of those too. ‘Anything else?’ Veronica tried to quell her panic at the radio silence until finally Audrey came back on the line.

‘I can see a field with a row of barns, or they could be stables, I’m not sure. It’s too dark to tell.’

There was only one farm on the other side of those woods, so Audrey had to have stumbled all the way to the boundary. Veronica felt they were getting somewhere. Or at least they had been until the call dropped out again. And this time, Veronica couldn’t get her granddaughter back no matter how many times she redialled her number.

Veronica sat with her head in her hands and Layla softly rubbed the space between her shoulders. ‘It’ll be all right.’

‘I wish your daddy was here,’ she said out loud. He’d go there to get Audrey for her, she knew he would. He’d scour those woods until he brought her home.

‘He’s good in a crisis,’ Layla agreed, tears dried up for now.

The practicality of Layla’s summation made Veronica realise the only person here who could help Audrey now was her.

But how on earth was she going to do that?

‘What’s that funny sound?’ Layla flipped up the top of the laptop, easily distracted, but when she saw Veronica clutching the paper bag still in her hands, her eyes shut as she tried to think of how she could possibly fix this, her voice wobbled. ‘Is Audrey going to be OK?’

Veronica couldn’t share her fears. ‘Yes, of course she is.’ She had to be.

She put the bag down and picked up her phone again and this time dialled the number of a local taxi firm. She rarely swore but she almost did when the wretched engaged tone blasted in her ear. It was a Saturday night near Christmas and she suspected this was going to be harder than she’d thought. She tried another two firms after that, then retried the original one again. But no success. She wanted to cry, she wanted to curl up in a ball and wish for this all to go away, but most of all she wanted Audrey here with her, she wanted to see her head off to her room with an absent goodnight and a smile Veronica treasured more than the teen knew.

‘I don’t want Audrey to get hurt,’ Layla sniffed, the tears back again. This wasn’t what Charlie would’ve wanted for his daughter. He’d trusted Veronica and here she was letting Layla down, Audrey, Sam too.

Veronica hugged Layla. ‘She won’t get hurt. I’ll get to her – the taxi drivers will fit us in soon, I promise.’

She tried each of the taxi numbers again and again. Finally, she got through. ‘Taxi please. Name is Veronica Bentley. House is number nine, Mapleberry Lane, Mapleberry. I need the taxi fast. Ten minutes? Great.’ She said it as though she booked these all the time. As though she went out every Saturday night on the town and it was no big deal.

She hung up and the second she did, it hit her. She knew what this meant. And Layla did too.

‘Veronica, you have to do it,’ Layla urged. ‘You have to leave the house. For Audrey, she needs you.’ And as Veronica tried to focus on the small task of putting on her coat and shoes in the hallway, Layla got herself ready, found the house key and Veronica’s bag. She even passed Veronica the brown paper bag she’d already been using in case she needed it again.

Veronica suspected she’d need a lot more than a flimsy little bag to save the day.

The taxi was going to be here in ten minutes. And after five years of failing to venture beyond the end of the garden path, Veronica had ten minutes to psych herself up and do this.

It was time to go and rescue her granddaughter.

Can Veronica face her fears and rescue Audrey? And will the kindness club finally make all their Christmas wishes come true…?

Continue the story in Part Four, A Winter Wish, available to pre-order now:

About the Author

Helen Rolfe writes contemporary women’s fiction and enjoys weaving stories about family, friendship, secrets, and community. Characters often face challenges and must fight to overcome them, but above all, Helen’s stories always have a happy ending.

To learn more about Helen and her writing, find her at:

www.helenjrolfe.com

Facebook: @helenjrolfewriter

Twitter: @HJRolfe

Instagram: @helen_j_rolfe

Copyright

AN ORION EBOOK

First published in Great Britain in 2020 by Orion Books

Copyright © Helen Rolfe 2020

The right of Helen Rolfe to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 1 3987 0028 4

The Orion Publishing Group Ltd

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