Chapter Thirty-four
It took no time at all for the wardrobes and cupboards to be filled, the beds to be made and Sam’s curtains to be hung.
Rosy and Matt had stocked the fridge with basics like milk, cheese, bread and pasta and they were sitting out in Matt’s garden, although she supposed it was hers now, all sharing a glass of wine.
Sylvie was aware as she took another sip of wine that she seemed to spend far too much time these days watching everything the man sitting next to her did.
It was almost as bad as that pride you have when the children are babies – oh, look, isn’t it cute how he holds his spoon; look how sweet he is when he stares out of the window – that sort of thing but very definitely not maternal and the sentences that popped into her head contained words like rippling, naked and breathless.
It felt a bit surreal to be sitting here like this; in fact, the pace at which her life was moving at the moment also had a sense of the dreamlike.
From the moment she had left London, suddenly jobless, pregnant but optimistic for the future, and had moved into Lovage Farm, time had passed so slowly.
Having Sam was joyful but the pace of life since she had moved back down was very slow, so different to London.
Then before she knew it she had to care for her mother through the heartbreaking inevitability of her illness.
She had become used to the pace of life, doing what she could to brighten it for Sam, but nonetheless it had all been very grey.
And then somehow this summer had changed things; she had been able to get to the beach every day with Sam and it was as if the sunshine and sand and sheer yellowness of summer had infused their being.
Meaning that when they went back to the farm every evening they returned with a bit more colour in their souls and it tingled out of their fingertips, affecting the rest of their life.
Then at summer’s end they had met Alex and Ellie, and Sam had started school.
Despite the two being separate events they seemed entwined for her and the truth was that since Sam had started going to school her life had changed beyond measure.
She looked around her, full of love and gratitude towards her small community, all these people making sure that she and Sam had the easiest house move ever.
Pippa had proved hilarious today, had taken against Angelina and been quite vocal about it.
At one point the two blonde women looked like they might fall to the floor and wrestle each other, but Angelina had the good sense to beat a hasty retreat when Pippa put her hair in a ponytail and rolled her sleeves up.
In two short months she now felt involved in the heart of the community as opposed to rotting alive on a farm that still seemed entrenched in the 1940s.
She wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Tom had whipped out a secret stash of dripping and dried eggs the minute she had gone.
Whilst she and Sam were now sitting in the garden of their own cottage, with a whole group of new colleagues. Colleagues who felt like friends.
Having been able to leave the leisure centre and find a job she loved close to home, and having taken the first step to setting up the Sylvie Williams School of Ballet, meant she had a little more money to play with than when she had been her mum’s carer, and a whole lot more self-esteem to boot.
She knew she hadn’t been a passive player in this; she had been offered the job at the school and the chance to use the hall on Saturdays based on her own merit.
Yet somehow it felt like Alex was involved, consistently there as a cheerleader, helping her find her way and cheering her on.
And right now, as they sat side by side in her new garden, their children playing and giggling at their feet and surrounded by their friends, she had never felt more like reaching out and holding someone’s hand.