Chapter 17
Albie
Make a Day Memorable for Someone
With a slow drip-feed of encouragement, Albie convinced some residents to join him in the main allotment one sunny afternoon, freeing the weed-tangled vegetables and turning the dried soil over with trowels.
They unearthed rows of green courgettes, marrows, spinach, potatoes, pumpkins and runner beans in varying states of maturity, along with a juicy blackberry bush, which could be harvested later in the summer.
Kneeling on a foam mat to protect his creaking knees, he thought he should find a way to repay her thoughtfulness and support.
She’d been such a help with the cottage arrangements, and this morning he’d found a box of home-baked cheese scones on his doormat, together with a small jar of fresh jam, tub of clotted cream and succulent strawberries.
At this rate, he’d be the size of a bus by Christmas, as would the others if she was bestowing equal kindness on them.
Her profit margins would be severely compromised.
Had she done similar where she lived before, or was it the manor’s influence?
Did the walls whisper to her, offering suggestions, or was it the community bonds they were forging?
Rosie’s piping voice caught his attention, chattering away to Harley. ‘My birthday’s soon, and I love unicorns and pool parties, but I don’t have many friends yet, and mummy said everything is booked because we’ve just moved here and…’ Her little face screwed up.
‘Um, hey, no waterworks, okay, kid?’ Harley patted her shoulder.
Kirsten started towards them, expression darkening as Albie clambered to his feet, cursing his aching bones. By the time he made it over to the little group, Rosie was tear sodden, Harley’s face was rigid, and Kirsten was comforting her daughter while glaring at him.
‘Hey,’ Harley held his palms up, ‘I barely said anything. It’s not my fault you haven’t organised—’
‘Helpful, thanks. You know, you really are—’
‘If I may,’ Albie intervened to defuse the tension, remembering the rule for living he’d hung that morning, ‘I’d love to help make her day special. I’ve plenty of time on my hands, even with the cottages.’
‘Really?’ Hope lit up Kirsten’s face. ‘That would be great.’
‘Really?’ Rosie lisped.
‘Yes.’ An idea popped into his head. ‘Harley, why don’t you two carry on with the shed, while Kirsten and I go chat?’
‘Uh, alright.’ Harley turned his baseball cap backward on his head so he could peer down into the little girl’s face. ‘Come on, kid. There might even be some pocket money if you do a good job.’
‘Yay!’ She wrapped her arms around his waist, making him stagger sideways. ‘I’m saving up for a unicorn toy, but my piggy bank isn’t very full.’
‘What?’ Kirsten said defensively, when Harley gave her a look. ‘I pay for her labour with cakes.’
‘Not helpful when all you want is a unicorn toy,’ he drawled, peeling Rosie’s arms from his waist but grasping one of her hands.
‘Let’s go,’ Albie told Kirsten.
‘Uh-huh.’ Her expression was troubled, murmuring, ‘She’d better not get too attached.’
As they walked away, they heard Rosie ask, ‘Will you dress up for my party? Like, be smart?’
Harley’s chuckle echoed across the allotment. ‘I think there’s an insult in there somewhere, but I’ll bite. How would you like me to be smart?’
There was no hesitation. ‘Shave your beard off.’
Kirsten snorted. ‘Gotta love children.’
‘Quite.’ Albie joined in with her laughter, mirth expanding his chest and warming his heart.
Ten busy days later, he stood in the sloped back garden grinning with satisfaction. He was sure his late wife would not only have approved of, but positively loved this.
The outside space teemed with Rosie’s class and their assorted guardians, the arbour resplendent with ivy and pink roses, floral lanterns hanging from tree branches and bunches of foil unicorn balloons held down by weights around the neat lawn.
The gate of the walled garden stood open so visitors could wander in and admire the roses.
A long trestle table with rainbow tablecloths was covered with plates, cups, napkins and cutlery, bottles of pop and centrepieces made from bowls of skittles with sparkly stars stuck around the edges.
A BBQ smoked away to one side, manned by a series of dads trying to show off their meat-cooking skills, and on the opposite end of the lawn a paddling pool stood next to the main attraction: the unicorn bouncy castle.
The way Rosie’s face lit up when she’d seen it made all the hard work worthwhile.
Harley had taken charge earlier, meeting the bouncy castle company at the manor gates and showing them where to set up.
He’d also assisted Ariel and Gilly with decorating the garden, sweating and hauling things around without complaint.
Albie couldn’t imagine anyone doing any more for their own child.
It was an interesting situation, given Harley’s original reluctance to get involved.
He’d also trimmed his beard, and maybe it wasn’t the clean-shaven look the birthday girl hoped for, but she’d crowed with delight when seeing the shorter whiskers, exclaiming, ‘Yay! I can see more of your face.’
He’d responded sardonically. ‘Maybe not such a good thing.’
Kirsten, stealing a quick glance at his masculine jaw line, muttered something about a gift table and fled.
Now, Albie studied the diverse group of families and children mingling with his neighbours, wearing a wide grin.
A kind but firm monologue to the manor at lunchtime had secured tacit agreement it’d let all partygoers locate the village for the party, and as the building’s honey bricks shimmered in the May sunshine, Albie could swear it was puffed up with pride.
Wandering over to the table for a glittery berry squash he’d found on the internet, he idly listened to one family’s plans for the coming May half-term week, before another parent made a scathing remark about the ruins at the bottom of the hill.
Teeth grinding, he turned around to defend the cottages.
However, Theo had already paused his conversation with Gilly to tell the judgemental woman in minute detail about the property’s history and their ambitious plans before saying they were being ably supported by a council officer.
The woman gaped, before murmuring a quick, right, sorry.
As Theo turned away with a gratified expression, it was good to see his usual sadness replaced by a more positive emotion.
‘Well done, lad,’ Albie applauded under his breath.
‘I quite agree,’ a droll, well-spoken voice declared beside him. ‘She needed putting in her place. Those cottages have enormous potential.’
Turning, he found a glamorous silver-haired lady standing at his elbow, reminiscent of a sprightly Helen Mirren. ‘Oh. Hello, there.’
‘Hallo.’ She stuck her hand out, ‘I’m Clover. Pleased to meet you. Nice someone of my own generation’s here. Gets rather boring otherwise, with these younger people’s noses stuck in their phones, taking endless pictures or going on about what used to be twatter.’
Albie guffawed as they shook hands. ‘I think you’ll find it was Twitter.’
Grey eyes twinkling, her grip tightened. ‘My version’s much more fun.’
‘Agreed.’ There was something remarkably attractive about her attitude, and he blushed, ‘I’m A-Albie Curville. Pleased to meet you too.’ He dropped his hand, clearing his throat. ‘Who are you here with?’
‘Granddaughter.’ She pointed to a girl in a lime-green dress doing joyful somersaults on the bouncy castle. ‘My son and his wife are away, so I offered to do the honours.’ She paused. ‘Curville, an interesting name. Any French in your family?’
He frowned. ‘I don’t think so. We all hail from Devon, as far as I know. Why?’
‘Devon. Very picturesque. I grew up there until I was twelve.’
‘You did?’
‘Yes.’ Her eyes became distant. ‘Near Mill Bay, across the water from Salcombe. I’ve many fond memories of sandy beaches, climbing rocks, and building dams.’ Smiling, she added, ‘Anyway, it sounds like the roots of your name could be French. Curville. Coeur de la ville?’
Raising an eyebrow, he stepped closer as a rabble of children ran past, Rosie in the middle, her little face shining with happiness. ‘Meaning?’
Eyeing him, she translated, ‘Heart of the town.’
‘Oh. Right. Well.’ He shifted under her scrutiny, feeling like a teenage boy. Silly, given the multitude of years behind him. ‘Don’t know about that.’
‘I could see it. Especially after what Kirsten told me.’
‘You know Kirsten?’
‘Yes. We recognised each other when I arrived. It’s a small world. I’m the coordinator for the local Happy Café. Kirsten donated cakes the other week. She was with a handsome bearded man who couldn’t take his eyes off her. It was sweet. Actually, he looked familiar—’
‘I didn’t know she did that.’ He interrupted to prevent her musing over Harley’s identity.
Was it the day he’d been hunched over the steering wheel in his van?
It might explain a few things if he and Kirsten had spent time together alone.
The chemistry between them crackled, even when they were arguing.
‘Yes. She seems a good egg. We had a chat earlier, and she mentioned you organised this wonderful party for Rosie. It’s very generous, making her birthday so memorable for her.’ She regarded him thoughtfully. ‘You should pop along to the next Happy Café. I think you’d fit right in.’
‘I had help,’ he said humbly, ‘but yes, maybe I’d enjoy it. The ethos is like a mantra I live by.’
Her eyes narrowed with interest. ‘Do tell.’
‘Choose kindness, every day. And I call my neighbours, our community here, my kindness tribe.’
‘Quite right. Lovely, in fact.’
‘It was something my wife taught me,’ he blurted, wanting to keep the conversation going but cursing himself for oversharing.
Her gaze dropped to his left hand, where he still wore his gold wedding band. ‘You’re married?’
‘Yes. No, I mean, I was.’ What on earth was wrong with him? ‘That is, she passed away. Quite a long time ago, but, well…’
‘Sometimes it feels like only yesterday?’
‘Yes.’
‘I know the feeling. I’m a widow.’ Her grey eyes softened. ‘There’s no need to justify yourself.’
‘Thank you.’ They fell silent, and Albie stared at her, awed. Who was this magnificent creature who spoke her mind, and knew exactly who she was and made no apology for it, and looked so effortlessly sensational?
Clover. Rose. Maybe he was destined to fall in love with women named after flowers and foliage.
Wait. What? He would never fall for anyone other his wife. She was the love of his life, and nothing would ever change that. Twin flags of guilt and betrayal burned his cheeks.
Oh, Rose. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.
He was an old fool.
But studying Clover’s 1920s style flapper dress, from the same era as his Peaky Blinders inspired suit and cap, perhaps they could be friends.
A companion who understood the same references to films and movies stars, world events and inventions, would be nice.
Before he could stop himself, he babbled, ‘Shall I give you a tour of the roses? Introduce you to my neighbours?’
Nodding, she tucks a wing of silver hair behind her ear, showing off glitzy diamond earrings.
‘Love to. I’m also interested in hearing more about the cottages your friend spoke about so passionately.
I’m on the lookout for a new project. I like to fill my time, keep myself busy. I’d be happy to volunteer.’
‘That would be marvellous,’ he replied, offering his arm as they crossed the lawn. ‘We can always do with extra help. I do my best, but the heart slows me down sometimes. As well as my arthritis-riddled knees.’
‘What’s wrong with your heart?’ She pulled him to a stop, looking concerned.
‘Oh. Did I say that aloud?’ What was it about this woman that made him share such things?
But on balance, what was the harm? She could probably tell anyway.
Dropping his voice, he murmured, ‘I have heart failure. Get a bit puffed out, and sometimes my ankles swell up. GP says I might not have long left, although I’ve made a few lifestyle changes recently.
’ Moving here, getting started on fulfilling his promise to Rose, long walks with Theo and Tori, building a new kindness tribe…
She waved her hand. ‘Pah, I have four underlying medical conditions. I simply rest when I need to and make the most of when I feel energetic. Besides, none of us know how long we have. So, all the more important to make the most of our todays.’
‘Tomorrow is never guaranteed?’
‘Exactly.’
He stared at her, bemused. She reminded him of Rose, so wise and kind. ‘Let’s make the most of the sunshine then, and introduce you to people who might become new friends.’
‘Sounds perfect.’ She tugged on his arm. ‘Lead the way.’
As they headed for the group containing Theo and Gilly, Albie caught sight of Tori playing with the children in the paddling pool, thumb partway over the hose nozzle to spray them.
They were giggling and splashing her denim shorts and white T-shirt in return.
It was lovely, like the roses in the walled garden, to see her blooming.
He smiled as, to his left, the red bricks of the walled garden acquired a rosy sheen, and the open gate gave a little shimmy. When it stilled, the black paint coating it appeared freshly applied.