Chapter 6
Jenni laid in bed. It was late and she was tired, but she couldn’t sleep. Her brain was busy going over the day, which had turned out to be quite surprising in the end.
Annie had returned from her non-date, her cheeks pink, with a lightness about her that Jenni hadn’t seen for a long time.
Certainly not since her dad died. After lunch, they’d gone out in Bertie to the farm shop.
It was there, next to a particularly muddy ‘field-fresh’ bundle of carrots that her mum had casually said, ‘Oh, I’ve invited Alan over for dinner tonight. I hope you don’t mind?’
Jenni, marvelling at the many types of potatoes – why there were so many and what poor Charlotte must have looked like to inspire someone to name a spud after her – had turned to her mum.
‘No, I don’t mind at all. That sounds nice,’ she’d added cautiously. Although, she hadn’t been entirely sure she didn’t mind, or that it sounded remotely nice. Who was this man taking her mother on walks? She supposed she was about to find out.
‘Okay, lovely. I told him to come to us for seven-thirty. Now, I want to get some beef as he does like a nice roast.’
Jenni had felt annoyed. Why ask if she minded if he’d already been invited? And her mum was practically vegetarian and hated red meat – now she was buying beef!
But she’d known she was being unfair, maybe even a bit jealous, so summoning the best version of herself – and thanking Clive for that particular Monday Motivational gem – Jenni had helped Annie choose a choice cut of Longhorn beef and had debated the merits of the WI’s offerings of lemon meringue pie over the apple tart, before finally choosing the bramble crumble.
Deciding to throw caution to the wind, they had also picked up a few local cheeses, crackers and two different chutneys before heading home to prepare for Alan’s arrival.
Jenni, who’d been on alert for the knock at the front door, had been a bit put out when, instead, there was a brief tap on the back door and, before she could even get up, it had swung open with a hearty, ‘Hello, only me!’
Annie, though, had showed no surprise at Alan letting himself in.
So, this is a regular thing, Jenni had thought, her eyes narrowing.
‘Hello! Come on in.’
Annie had put down the tea towel she was holding to take the bottle Alan was proffering. ‘Oh, lovely, thank you – you know I love this wine!’
Alan, who Jenni had to admit had a kind smile and a capable-looking face – she instinctively knew he was one of the cargo-short-wearing men who were good at mending things – handed over the bottle and gave Annie a quick peck on the cheek. He then turned to Jenni.
‘Hello, I’m Alan. I’ve heard so much about you. Your mum’s so proud of you.’
Instantly disarmed, Jenni had smiled back, uncertain how to reply given she’d only heard of him that morning, but she’d stood to shake his hand nonetheless.
Upon sitting back down, Jenni had watched Alan reach inside the drawer where the corkscrew was kept and locate the wine glasses, with a familiar ease that had given her a pang.
That and the easy companionship between him and her mum.
It had actually been a lovely evening, and Alan, who worked in social housing at Bristol council, was interesting and interested, sharing the frustrations of his work, but also the successes, and he’d enjoyed hearing about Jenni’s job, too.
He had two grown-up children: one in Manchester – a son, single, he hadn’t hesitated to point out – and a daughter who had moved to New Zealand and who he was hoping to visit soon as they hadn’t seen each other for over three years.
Jenni hadn’t been able to help noticing that there was a quiet certainty to him that felt familiar: the way he moved around the kitchen, tidying away after Annie, washing up and restoring order, reminding her of her father.
And she’d felt another jolt of loss as she’d realised that her mum had managed to find someone else; that it wouldn’t be just the two of them anymore.
Jenni had left them to finish the tidying up and had gone to bed after saying goodnight.
As she’d climbed into bed, she had heard the back door quietly pulled shut, and she knew if she looked out of the window now she’d see the red dot of her mum’s cigarette as she did her final check of the garden.
Jenni could hear a second voice, too – Alan was still there – and she listened to the sound of the two of them talking, their low voices accompanied by the occasional shared laughter as they walked the gravel paths.
Gosh, thought Jenni. Unchaperoned walking in the garden after dark.
She looked forward to seeing what the village Facebook page had to say about that tomorrow.
‘Knob with your soup?’ Annie asked, making her daughter look up in alarm.
Seeing the hard, round, baked biscuits – a Dorset delicacy – and suddenly understanding what her mother was on about, Jenni politely declined.
‘Hmm, me neither, if I’m honest. No wonder they have that competition to see how far you can throw them each year. About all anyone wants to do with them.’
‘Why did you buy them then?’
‘Well, I like the big tin they come in, it’s very useful for storing stuff. They caught my eye when I was in that nice deli in Sherdowne the other day, when Sheila and I ventured across the border.’
‘Mum, you went for afternoon tea in a nice market town in the next county. You make it sound like you left the country.’
‘Well, you say that, but the traffic on the A303 was so bad, we could have flown to Spain quicker.’
Jenni rolled her eyes and changed the subject. ‘Alan was nice last night,’ she said, casually, watching her mother closely.
‘Hmm. Yes, it was a lovely evening, wasn’t it?’ her mum replied, dipping her spoon into her soup.
There was a pause and Jenni noticed Annie’s cheeks redden slightly. ‘He’s asked me if I want to go to New Zealand with him. I’d like to, but I’m not sure I should leave the garden. I’ve got all the seeds in the greenhouse to water.’
‘Mum, that’s no excuse not to go. Jane would water for you. Do you want to go?’
‘I do, I’d love to go – it’s somewhere me and your dad always said we’d visit. Maybe that’s why I feel a bit funny about saying yes.’
Jenni glanced up from her phone – Tim’s WhatsApp message would have to wait – to see her mum looking at her intently.
‘And I worry about how you will feel, darling,’ she added. ‘I don’t like the idea of being so far from you.’
Jenni reached for her mum’s hand. ‘I know. I feel a bit odd about it too, if I’m being honest, but I’m glad you’ve found someone nice, and I’m glad you’re not on your own. I think you should go.’
Annie smiled. ‘Thank you. I’m quite content living on my own, but it is nice to have someone to share things with.’ She looked at Jenni. ‘What about you? I know splitting up from Alex has been difficult for you. Even if you’re happy, it can be hard, can’t it?”
‘Yes,’ admitted Jenni, finishing the last mouthful of soup and placing her spoon in the empty bowl.
‘I don’t know. I just can’t imagine meeting anyone at the moment.
All my friends are paired off, so no one knows any eligible men and I can’t face the whole online dating thing.
Besides, I’d rather be on my own than with someone for the sake of it. ’
‘You’ll find the right person, give it time,’ said Annie, gathering up the empty bowls and stacking them in the sink.
‘Yes, I’m sure my tall, dark stranger will appear any minute now.’ Jenni tried to sound optimistic rather than sarcastic, if only to reassure her mum. But she wasn’t so sure.
Her mum knew her too well, though, and gave her a kiss on the top of her head as she walked past her to get to the fridge.
‘You will, but in the meantime go and get packed. You need to be at the station for half past and Bertie needs extra time to get up the big hill, so we need to leave in ten minutes.’
Jenni smiled, suddenly reluctant to leave the warmth of her mum’s kitchen. But she stood up and headed for the stairs.
‘I’ll go and get my bags right now,’ she said. ‘And don’t forget the cake – I’m not leaving here without it!’