Sunshine and Sweet Peas in Nightingale Square

by Heidi Swain

  ‘Things will work out.’

  The thought of eventually returning to Nightingale Square and my home and friends and Prosperous Place, with Luke and Jasmine, filled my heart with joy.

  As I stood, content and safe in Luke’s embrace part of me was thinking this was the perfect opportunity to tell him about the baby, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I still needed to live with the news a little longer myself before I shared it with anyone else, even him.

  ‘Things will work out,’ he said again.

  ‘In that case,’ I told him, ‘we’ll leave first thing tomorrow, and I’ll help you track down Edward’s portrait if it’s the last thing I do.’

  When we’d gone back into the house that evening and explained to Jemma and Tom that we would be leaving together the next morning, my brother was quick to point out that we had nowhere to stay and that wherever we went, Luke was bound to be recognised.

  ‘I know where they can go,’ Jemma had announced, leaping up and grabbing her phone.

  Ever resourceful she had telephoned her friend Amber from Skylark Farm and booked us a week in their little vintage-themed holiday bungalow. It was tucked away on the farm boundary and Luke, Jasmine and I spent a week there together, enjoying the glorious weather, playing games and building the foundations of a solid relationship. Jasmine was every bit as adaptable as Luke had suggested and hadn’t forgotten how I had set her up with a little garden of her own.

  ‘When we get home,’ I told her, ‘you can have another one.’

  ‘With real plants?’ she asked, wide eyed.

  ‘And real flowers.’

  She jumped up and threw her arms around my neck and I knew that life with my little ready-made family was going to work out just fine. Luke had tried to scotch my concerns that things between us were moving rather fast for folk who had only known one another for a few months, but it was Jasmine’s unreserved affection that finally allayed my fears.

  During that week I had planned to tell him about the baby every day, but I hadn’t. Not sharing a bedroom ensured he hadn’t the opportunity to notice the change in my figure, and watching him relax and focus on Jasmine, I didn’t think it would be fair to divert his attention back to me. It was still early days, so there was plenty of time for him to get used to the idea.

  It was exhilarating travelling back to Norwich in Luke’s car with Jasmine strapped in the back, playing with the dolls Ella had kindly given her when they all turned up at the cottage to wave us off. As we raced along the A47 my mind drifted and it was thrilling to think that we were a little unit, just like millions of others, heading home after a catch-up with family and friends.

  It was what I had always dreamed of, even though the child in the back wasn’t my daughter, the man next to me wasn’t my husband and the homes we were going back to were separated by a road and a communal patch of grass. It certainly wasn’t the fairy tale I had spent my adult life chasing, but, I amazed myself by thinking, it was perfect nonetheless and it was real and it was mine.

  I let out a contented sigh as we pulled back into the Square. Everything looked so different. The grass was longer, the trees were fuller and the soft warm breeze which wove around my legs when I opened the car door made me think that summer had arrived early in our cosy city patch of Norfolk.

  ‘Do you want to come in?’ I asked Luke once we had offloaded my bags in the hallway.

  ‘Better not,’ he said, with a nod back to the car where Jasmine was now fast asleep, the dolls still clutched to her chest. ‘I should get her home and check Violet and Dash have been behaving for Carole.’

  I imagined my nosy but well-meaning neighbour had been thrilled to be asked to undertake the task of house-sitting while Luke came to find me in Wynbridge. He had literally given her the keys to the castle.

  ‘All right,’ I nodded. ‘Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘You’ll definitely see me tomorrow,’ he grinned, kissing me on the cheek and making my knees wobble in the process, ‘and the day after that and the day after that.’

  He was still saying it as he pulled away and I bent to pick the post off the mat, laughing at his silly performance. Once I had opened all the windows and made myself a small mug of tea – I could still only manage hot drinks in small doses – I sat in the back garden, ignoring the weeds and the grass which was in need of a trim and looked through the letters, bills and inevitable recycling which had arrived in my absence.

  A letter from David proved the most entertaining. He apologised profusely for the fiasco over the portrait and begged me not to confront Charlie because it would be bad for future business to lose ‘this most useful contact’. And all this time I had been labouring under the illusion that he was Charlie’s friend. Was there no end to my ex’s conning? I felt extremely grateful that I had finally managed to throw off the rose-tinted specs, and consequently barely skimmed the part of the letter in which he explained why he had done a bunk with Candice. I was more amused that he thought I would care and had felt obliged to offer an explanation.

  When I had finished with it, I set the letter and envelope to one side, not even bothering to screw it up, and slowly drank my tea. Finally, I felt completely free of David and my marriage. I had thought moving from London the previous October and accepting singledom would have helped me shed the shackles, but Lisa was right. I wasn’t the sort of person who could be happily single. It had taken falling in love again to truly set me free. So engrossed in this amazing thought, I didn’t hear the doorbell and only looked up when approaching footsteps drew my attention.

  ‘You’re back!’ smiled Heather. ‘Finally!’

  ‘Heather,’ I said, jumping up to give her a hug. ‘I’ve missed you so much. Where’s Lisa?’

  ‘Loitering in the house somewhere,’ she tutted. ‘Waiting to see if she’s welcome.’

  ‘What?’ I said, looking over her shoulder because I thought she was joking, but there was no sign of the third musketeer.

  ‘She didn’t want to come at all,’ said Heather, rolling her eyes. ‘She thinks that because you haven’t been in touch since Luke set off to find you, she’s in the doghouse.’

  ‘Is she really worried that I’m cross that she told Luke about David?’

  Heather nodded and I shook my head.

  ‘Get your butt out here, Mrs!’ I called.

  Lisa’s solemn face quickly appeared around the side of the house. I’d never seen her looking vulnerable and sheepish before. It didn’t suit her and I rushed to give her a hug so she knew that all was forgiven.

  ‘You’re not going to knock my block off, then,’ she said tearfully when I finally released her, ‘or poison my tea.’

  ‘No,’ I told her. ‘But if you’re that worried you can make your own tea.’

  Behind us Heather laughed.

  ‘I only told Luke because he was in such a state,’ Lisa carried on, smoothing out a large envelope she was carrying and which my enthusiastic welcome had crumpled. ‘He thought he’d lost you for good, especially when you didn’t call or text. I thought if I explained to him about what you had been through with David then that would make him understand why you had disappeared . . .’

  Her voice trailed off and I wondered what she would say and do if she knew the whole reason why I had headed home for a break. Not that I’d had much of a rest.

  ‘What?’ she asked, when she realised I had tuned out.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ I said, shaking my head. The first person I had to tell about the baby was Luke. ‘Everything’s fine.’

  ‘And are you and Luke actually a couple now?’ Heather quizzed. ‘Have you been together all this week?’

  ‘Yes,’ I sighed dreamily, ‘we’re a couple now. A very happy couple, and yes, we’ve been together since the day he left here.’

  Heather clapped her hands and Lisa let out a long, slow breath, her eyes shining with tears.

  ‘Now come on,’ I said, ‘let me make us all a drink, minus the poison, and
then you can show me what you’ve got in that envelope.’

  Because whatever it was that Lisa had brought with her, it was clearly important.

  ‘So,’ I said, bumping the tray on the garden table and handing round mugs and biscuits. ‘What have you got in there, then?’

  Lisa’s face flushed and Heather let out a little squeal and clapped her hands together again.

  ‘Are you sure we’re OK?’ Lisa asked.

  She was deadly serious and I felt suitably guilty that I hadn’t messaged her to help smooth the way before I came back.

  ‘Honestly, it’s all fine,’ I told her, then added with a wink, ‘but don’t forget to drink all of your tea.’

  She smiled and nodded, while Heather peeped cautiously over the rim.

  ‘Now come on,’ I insisted, brushing the moment off, ‘what’s with the paperwork?’

  ‘Well,’ Lisa began, sitting up straighter and carefully pulling out a small pile of A4. ‘You know I’ve been thinking about looking for a job?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, trying to read the upside-down writing at the top of the first page. ‘Have you found one?’

  ‘Possibly,’ she said, ‘but it might not be what you’re expecting.’

  This was all very cryptic. I looked at Heather who was still grinning like a loon.

  ‘And you know John told her to follow her heart,’ she blurted out. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she giggled, clapping her hand over her mouth so she literally couldn’t say another word.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, thinking back. ‘He did say something along those lines the day he helped me move some furniture.’

  Heather impatiently tapped her free hand on the table, encouraging Lisa to get to the point before she burst.

  ‘OK,’ said Lisa, ‘don’t laugh.’

  I shook my head. I had no intention of laughing at her.

  ‘I’ve always wanted to be a writer,’ she said in a rush.

  I could see her face getting redder by the second and realised that this wasn’t something she had said out loud very often before. In fact, given the way her voice was shaking, I imagined that what she was telling me was a long-held, but very secret, desire.

  ‘I’ve got dozens of notebooks at home,’ she continued, ‘packed full of story ideas and snippets of conversations.’

  ‘I’ve seen some of them,’ Heather burst out again.

  ‘And when I told John I was going to look for a job in a supermarket or something he said that I needed to give writing a proper shot first. He said I should send something I had written to a magazine or a competition.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, shuffling closer to the edge of my seat to get a proper look at the papers she was half hiding.

  ‘So I did,’ she said, a smile spreading across her face. ‘I picked up a copy of one of the celebrity magazines a few weeks ago . . .’

  ‘Its was one of the ones with Candice on the cover,’ Heather embellished. ‘She’d been brewing her media campaign for a while before she turned up here, apparently.’

  ‘And there just happened to be a short story competition in there,’ Lisa continued, cutting her off. ‘It was ridiculously close to the deadline, but I had something that I thought they might like so I thought what the hell and sent it in.’

  ‘And?’ I asked, urging her on.

  ‘I’ve only made the bloody shortlist!’ she squealed, her excitement finally matching Heather’s as she shoved a printout of the confirmation email under my nose.

  ‘Oh my god, Lisa!’ I squealed back. ‘That’s phenomenal.’

  ‘Tell her what first prize is,’ Heather said, shaking her head.

  ‘The top three stories are all going to be published in the magazine,’ Lisa told me, her eyes shining. ‘But the winner gets an e-book contract with a top publishing house.’

  I didn’t know what to say. The whole situation had literally knocked the breath out of my body. Lisa looked at me and knew exactly how I was feeling.

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s nuts, isn’t it? Even if I don’t get any further, the story is going to be published in the magazine.’

  ‘You’ll get plenty further,’ Heather nudged her. ‘You’re going to win it, Lisa, I just know it.’

  ‘John’s been telling me for years that I shouldn’t give up on my dream, but what with the kids and everything I just never had the time to make it a priority.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ I told her. ‘This is all so amazing.’

  ‘I know,’ she sniffed, tears coursing down her face. ‘I told you I’d be the next one of us to cry all over the place, didn’t I?’

  ‘I think this calls for something fizzier than tea,’ Heather sniffed along with her.

  ‘I agree,’ I said.

  It wasn’t until I’d said it that I realised that the fizziest thing I’d be drinking over the next year or so was lemonade.

  ‘I can’t, obviously,’ Heather said, stroking her gently rounded bump, ‘but you two can.’

  ‘No,’ I said recovering quickly. ‘Let’s not. Let’s save it until the day Lisa is announced as the winner.’

  By that time I would hopefully have had a chance to tell everyone about the baby.

  ‘You’re optimistic, aren’t you?’ Lisa sighed, looking longingly at the email.

  Suddenly she didn’t sound quite so excited.

  ‘Well,’ I said, reaching across the table for her hand, ‘you know how much I’ve always loved a fairy-tale ending.’

  Chapter 31

  Lisa’s amazing news was the cherry on the top of my homecoming and when I ventured over to the garden the next day it was a pleasure to see that everything was very rosy on that side of the road as well.

  ‘Kate,’ said Mark, dropping the watering can and rushing over when I walked through the gate. ‘We thought you were gone for good.’

  He gave me a hug then took a step back.

  ‘I’ve only been gone a couple of weeks and besides, how could I possibly stay away?’ I laughed, ‘ just look at this place. It’s amazing.’

  ‘Some of the sweet peas are ready for picking already,’ he told me. ‘And they smell exquisite. Graham says they’ve grown so well because the walls hold the warmth at the end of the day. The extra heat has brought everything on a treat.’

  ‘I can see that,’ I sighed happily.

  The place really did look like paradise. Even a grand walled garden in the grounds of a country house such as Wynthorpe Hall back home would have been hard pushed to match our efforts. Everything was looking lush and healthy and that extended to the people as well as the plants. There had been lots of national initiatives recently to encourage people to get out in the fresh air and move a bit more and, if there were any doubters about the benefits of either suggestion, then a trip to our little patch and a look at the faces of the folk involved would be enough to crush any misgivings.

  ‘Anyway,’ Mark frowned. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Couldn’t be better,’ I told him.

  I’d managed a cup of coffee earlier in the day and was feeling much more like my old self.

  ‘Only you look different,’ he went on, staring at me more intently.

  ‘Different,’ I laughed, turning away a little. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged, ‘I can’t put my finger on it, just different, especially around your eyes.’

  ‘It’s relief,’ said Luke.

  I hadn’t heard him walk in behind me.

  ‘Things are finally settling to how they’re meant to be,’ he added.

  ‘That could be it,’ I agreed.

  ‘I know that’s it,’ Luke smiled. ‘After everything we’ve all been through in the last few weeks, this peace and tranquillity feels like heaven on earth. This is pretty much how I dreamt things would be when you guys told me you wanted a growing space of your own and it dawned on me that I could make it happen.’

  Right on cue Molly, Jasmine and Rob’s boys came tearing through the gate, squirting each other
with super-soaker water pistols and squealing with laughter.

  ‘Is it?’ I asked Luke above the sudden din. ‘Is this really what you had in mind?’

  ‘Well,’ he smiled, ‘almost.’

  Our eyes met, just for a second, and I wondered if he thought I looked any different. I wondered how he was going to react when I told him about the baby.

  ‘I’d better get back to my own watering,’ said Mark. ‘And making sure the kids don’t get carried away and squirt the hens. It was a close-run thing yesterday!’

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘We can’t have them put off their laying,’ he added mischievously. ‘It’s really good to have you home, Kate.’

  ‘Did you hear that?’ I asked Luke as Mark walked away.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Mark,’ I said. ‘He thinks of this place as home already.’

  ‘Good,’ grinned Luke. ‘That’s how I want the residents of Nightingale Square to feel. I know that’s how Dad would have wanted them to feel too, had he made it this far.’

  ‘Your dad would be proud of you, Luke,’ I told him. ‘You’ve more than answered the questions he wasn’t given the time to.’

  ‘Thank you, Kate.’ He smiled, looking around him again. ‘I think even Charles Wentworth would be happy with this set-up, don’t you? What he created in this part of the city was his gift to the world, or those living nearby and working for him at least, and now it’s my time and my turn to share what’s left of his legacy with the community.’

  There was that word again. For some reason ‘gifts’ kept popping into my head.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Luke asked.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’m fine.’

  Recently my mind had flitted back to the letters that had gone back and forth between Luke’s home and mine and the mention of ‘gifts’ made me wonder where the other things that we thought might have passed between the two properties had disappeared to, assuming there had really been some, of course.

  ‘Jasmine!’ Luke called to his daughter. ‘Come and tell Kate where we’ve been today.’

  She abandoned her water pistol and, quickly drying her hands on her dress, ran over.