Chapter 13 Albie
Albie
Give Someone a Hug When They Need It
Rising early to visit the walled rose garden overlooking the river running behind the manor, Albie took a cleansing breath.
It was a relief the air was crisp, because any moisture in the atmosphere made his arthritic knees worse.
Today, he could almost feel young again.
Believe the years had rewound enough for his wife to still be alive.
She’d have loved being here. Life could be so unjust.
‘Why are you wearing such a soppy expression?’ Tori’s voice broke into his musings, and he looked up to see her picking her way across the dew-glistened grass.
He was glad her bearing was more relaxed a few weeks after arriving at the manor.
She still checked over her shoulder on their morning strolls – sometimes joined by Theo – and went quiet for long periods, but at times she was almost content.
Coming to his flat to type up the notes from the walking meeting, she’d also helped him compile a to-do list, seeming reluctant to return home.
‘Albie?’ She waved her hand in front of his face. ‘You in there?’
‘Yes. Just fancied seeing the roses.’ He gestured at the multi-hued pink blooms, the names familiar because Rose had tended hers with such devotion.
Aphrodite, Rosita Vendela, Sweet Unique, White O’Hara, Pink Majolica…
They were thriving, like the ones covering the village cottages, although the red blooms on the front of his were still a puzzle. He could’ve sworn they were ivory.
‘It’s a pretty spot.’ Tori interrupted his thoughts again.
‘Yes.’
Her black hair was tied loosely in a French plait, and a cream sweater made her olive skin glow. But it was obvious from her response about Ethan liking her she wasn’t ready for romance, or even to be regarded as attractive.
Gesturing to his outfit, comprising a long beige raincoat, rainbow-striped jumper and jodhpurs, and squinting at the white hair he’d been unable to tame, she asked, ‘Channelling Doc from Back to the Future today?’
‘Ha. I wondered where you were.’ A voice cut across Albie’s retort as Theo strode into view. He too was changing, dark good looks not as lined by sadness and days filled with tasks for the rebuild as he took on more of a coordination role.
‘Aren’t we walking this morning? It’s a gorgeous day. Julia will—’ He stopped, complexion growing pale as he snapped his mouth shut.
‘It’s okay to talk about her,’ Albie prompted gently. ‘Go on.’
Tori’s face softened in sympathy, aware of Theo’s loss.
‘I was going to say Julia will love it. Forgot for a minute. Stupid.’
Thinking of Rose’s rule about hugs he’d put up the previous day, Albie placed his arm around Theo’s shoulders and squeezed. ‘I do too sometimes, and it’s been a lot longer. But it’s good to remember the things our loved ones cherished. That way, they’re alive in our memories, and hearts.’
Theo nodded, eyes shining. ‘You’re right. Talking about it free of judgement helps, especially after the way her family were, and at the funeral…’
‘I know.’ Albie dropped his arm, giving his friend space to compose himself, aware of how difficult Julia’s family had made things when she’d ceased chemo to tick off her bucket list instead. ‘Better stop hugging before you call me Nonno again. I’m no one’s grandad,’ he joked, ‘far too young.’
‘Sorry, you just remind me of him a bit.’
Tori snorted. ‘Nonno? I keep forgetting we both have Italian backgrounds. Though yours sound more traditional than mine.’
‘Yeah,’ Theo’s mouth curved fondly, ‘Julia loved it. Anyway, what were you talking about?’
‘Albie was wandering around with a dopey expression on his face,’ Tori teased. ‘Why was that?’
He hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. But, if he couldn’t trust them with part of his secret, how could he expect them to trust him and strengthen the bonds of their kindness tribe?
As he opened his mouth to reply, Gilly and Ariel came through the walled garden gate, arms entwined.
‘Morning all.’ Gilly smiled in a way Albie hadn’t seen before. ‘Isn’t it a lovely Sunday?’
As the others murmured in agreement, Ariel turned to him. ‘Let me know when the walls have been replastered in your cottage?’
‘Will do. They’re still fixing the upstairs floors.’ Turning to Gilly, he asked, ‘Can I tempt you to get involved now?’
‘Not yet.’
Hmmm. Progress. Better than the previous emphatic no.
‘Albie was about to explain why he was mooning over the roses,’ Tori teased, to cover the way she was edging away from the group.
‘Will you stop that,’ he admonished her.
Pausing, he chose his words carefully. ‘But fine, there’s something you don’t know.
A reason why rebuilding the cottages and restoring the village is so important to me.
’ He stopped again, before saying, ‘I loved my wife immensely. That’s why I looked, as Tori so delicately put it, soppy.
I was thinking about Rose, and how much she loved it here.
’ As they glanced at each other in surprise, Albie thought, here goes nothing, Rose.
I hope I don’t live to regret it. ‘Beaubrook Manor was her home as a young girl, before her family were forced to leave. She always wanted to come back.’
‘Forced?’ Tori asked curiously.
‘It makes me cross to think about, but the Army requisitioned the buildings and lands during the Second World War. They needed it as a base for training, and because of its strategic location. There was also the train station behind the cottages – disused now since the 1960s, but used back then – connecting Salisbury to the Dorset coast. It was used to move supplies for the military, or sometimes carry prisoners of war.’
‘That’s awful. And they just took people’s homes away?’ Theo frowned.
‘They did it more than you’d think. Like with Tyneham, near the Purbecks.
’ At their blank expressions, he sighed.
‘I’ll tell you about it another time. In any case, because of the requisition, the family moved to Devon.
It’s funny, isn’t it? If Rose’s parents, Lord and Lady Beaubrook, hadn’t been too devastated to stay locally and see their home and legacy dismantled, I wouldn’t have met my wife.
’ Life worked in odd ways, as if the universe found it necessary to balance things. Rose had to lose, for him to gain.
‘That’s so romantic,’ Ariel sighed, eyes misty, ‘like fate. And they were a Lord and Lady, how fascinating.’
Tori’s eyes narrowed. ‘And it just so happens you’ve bought a flat where she grew up?’
How much to tell them? When they knew everything, would they feel betrayed?
Manipulated? He wasn’t ready to let go of the dream yet.
Skirting the truth, he replied, ‘I always kept an eye on it, over the years. Hoping. I understand now why she always spoke of this place with such fondness and longing.’
They turned as one to gaze up at the stunning grandeur of the Georgian manor as the sun broke through the clouds, the honey-coloured stones sparkling in the golden light.
It wasn’t just the beauty of the building’s original features that was so special, nor the small, abandoned village holding such promise, with thatched rose-dappled cottages cosied together as if protected by the manor and generous founding family.
Neither was it the unbelievable countryside vista, a vivid blue sky hanging above achingly green hills as birds tweeted in the branches of the oak tree by the river.
It was the sum of all parts, an indefinable magic giving the air a wonderful peace and tranquillity.
It wasn’t hard to see why the care home residents had been so happy here, or why Rose adored it. A dart of guilt pricked his conscience, but he’d done what was necessary and must focus on the rebuild.
‘That’s why you’re so invested in restoring the village,’ Gilly observed, tugging his attention back to his neighbours. ‘Because of your wife.’
‘Yes. It’s part of the reason she was such an incredible person,’ he choked, imagining her dancing across the lawn as a fair-haired girl.
‘Even though she was seven when they left, this place taught her kindness because her parents helped the locals and always shared their home with people in need.’ His voice dropped.
‘Choose kindness, every day. It was her dying wish to see it restored.’
There was a silence while they absorbed his words. As if speaking too soon would lessen the impact. Humbled as they acknowledged the original owners of this property had been good, kind, and more than worthy of remembrance.
‘Oh, Albie,’ Tori said at last. ‘No wonder it’s so important to you… What a sad, but lovely story.’ Clearing her throat, she added, ‘And the entrance hall notes?’
‘Erm, what about them?’
‘Is there a reason you pin them up, other than offering sound advice?’ she pressed.
‘I… Why would you—?’ He stopped, aware he was fooling no one as they exchanged looks around him. ‘How did you know they were me?’
Tori’s mouth curved. ‘You said something that echoed one of the sentiments. But really it was the note left in the first book you brought me. Wish others well. I checked, and the handwriting matches.’
‘Ah, I see.’ He straightened his shoulders. ‘Well, it’s no big mystery. They’re Rose’s rules for living. The mantras she lived by. Forty years wasn’t nearly enough time together, but she taught me a lot.’
‘Oh,’ Ariel sighed softly. ‘That’s so romantic.’
‘I suppose it is,’ he mused. ‘I just thought her wisdom should be shared.’ And that it might help them be better neighbours, and friends, rallying to support each other with the rebuild… and their broken hearts.
They were all so misty-eyed Albie changed the subject, forcing an impish tone. ‘Now I’ve bared my soul, who’s up for helping me clear out the downstairs of my cottage? Don’t forget about the allotments too.’
He tittered as they groaned collectively, but he knew time had a funny way of getting away from people.
Before they realised it, six months would’ve slipped by without anyone lifting a finger.
He knew how quickly it could pass. Like a chugging train you were racing along the platform to catch, only for the last carriage to charge past in a rush of air.
It had been more than eighteen years since Rose had died. Some days it felt like a lifetime, but if he kept his promise, he’d see her again soon.
Albie stretched his aching back. He was probably a bit old for this lark. Although his doctor had recommended physical activity, it mustn’t be too strenuous. So, it was fortunate he had company.
Kirsten and Harley (with Rosie sitting on the floor with a pile of colouring-in books), Theo and, somewhat surprisingly, Tori, had been working alongside him for hours.
A group of people, becoming friends. The suffocating loneliness of the past few years was ebbing away, and he could breathe again. For as long as his heart held out.
Breaking down furniture and piling it into the nearest skip, they’d heaved anything salvageable into the lean-to in the back garden.
Working in harmony with the radio on, they ripped up Saxony carpet and stripped wallpaper more easily than should have been possible, but wincing whenever chunks of plaster crumbled away.
After stopping for bottled water, Kirsten’s bright chatter and Harley’s sardonic replies filled the space, and Tori’s shoulders finally relaxed.
Theo shocked them all by breaking into a rich baritone as Keane came over the radio, singing a lilting melody about fallen trees and simple things, and how this could be the end of everything, but they needed somewhere to begin. It felt apt.
As twilight fell, the others drifted away until only Albie and Tori remained. When her mobile rang, she continued sweeping curled remnants of wallpaper into a pile with a stiff broom.
‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’
‘Nope.’ Crouching, she shoved the rubbish into a bin liner. ‘They’ll leave a voicemail if it’s important.’
When the phone fell silent, she stood up. ‘Thanks for this. It was good for me to work with the others, and the manual labour was kind of therapeutic.’
‘You’re welcome. Thank you for helping.’
Her phone rang again, and wrenching it from her pocket, she glowered at the screen.
Ambling over, he peered at it. ‘Everything all right? Ex-boyfriend?’ He held his hand out, noticing her blanch at the word ex. ‘I’ll see them off.’
‘No. It’s n-not,’ she stuttered as it rang insistently, ‘something bad happened, and the police—’
‘Police? Are you in trouble? You can be surly, but I can’t imagine you committing a crime—’
‘It wasn’t me. It’s just—’ She sucked in a shaky breath. ‘They want me to go to court.’
‘Oh, Tori,’ he murmured as her brown eyes filled with tears. It made his heart ache seeing her so distraught. ‘What happened?’
‘He…’ Face crumpling, she whispered, ‘He took everything from me. Everything that meant anything, and I can’t get it back.’ Tears were falling in rapid succession, running off her chin.
‘You poor thing. Come here. You need a hug.’ Ignoring the tension in her body, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close.
Patting her back in comfort, he crooned under his breath.
Let the lovely girl draw comfort from his weary old bones, while he was still here.
‘That’s it, let it out. I’m sorry for whatever you went through.
It’s over now. Shhhh. There, there.’ Holding Tori, trying to contain the pain wracking her body, he absorbed her tears.
She cried for a long while until the sobs subsided and the shudders faded away. Breathing a thank you into his shoulder, she eased back self-consciously. ‘I obviously needed that.’
‘Everyone needs a hug sometimes. And I’m here for you, any time.’
‘Thanks,’ she repeated. ‘I feel better. It’s been ages since someone held me, and I miss my family. Dad gives the best hugs.’
‘Well, apologies if I don’t compare,’ he said gravely, understanding the need for levity after the intensity of her emotions.
‘No one could,’ she joked, before gazing at the damp neckline of his jumper. ‘Sorry.’
‘No problem, this old thing needed laundering anyway.’
She snorted. ‘You always say the right thing. Except—’
‘Except?’
‘Well, except when you don’t.’ Her dark eyebrows drew together, ‘Who are you calling surly?’
As they left Friendship Cottage together chuckling, tiny bits of plaster trembled on the floor before floating up and fitting back into divots and dips. The last few strips of wallpaper peeled away and fell to the dusty floorboards, leaving behind a blank canvas ready for a fresh start.