Amanda Brooke - The Widows’ Club

‘It’s natural that they’d react differently,’ Tara told Faith. ‘Molly was practically a baby when Mike died and she’s never known any different. It might take her some time to adjust to having a father figure, but she can’t wait to move out of the flat. Lily on the other hand was five when she lost her mum. She has memories and emotional ties that are intrinsically linked to the home Iain’s trying to sell from under her.’

‘Is it a deal breaker?’

‘No,’ Tara said, pulling back her shoulders to shift the weight pressing down against her chest. ‘But it’s going to make the next few months far more interesting than I would like. Now enough about me, tell me your news. How come you’ve taken the day off work?’

Tara had been pleasantly surprised when Faith suggested calling into the shop. They tried to meet up at least once a month between group meetings, but Tara had all but given up hope of finding time between one crisis and another.

‘I had a date with a man,’ Faith said, raising an eyebrow.

‘What for? A manicure? Pedicure? Indian head massage?’ Tara asked with a smile.

‘A quotation, actually,’ Faith said, pushing away her empty plate. Her smile disappeared. ‘Lily’s not the only one with emotional ties that are about to be cut. I told myself I had to do something about the house this year, and I’ve finally made a start.’

‘Are you selling up?’ Tara asked, unable to hide her shock. Faith talked about her house as if it were a shrine to her husband, and Tara couldn’t imagine her letting it go any more than she could imagine Faith letting go of the place Derek occupied in her heart.

‘Looking at things rationally, the house is too big for one person, and you never know, it might be fun living in some stylish city apartment with beautiful views.’ She took a moment to consider the possibility, then shook her head. ‘But no, Woolton is my home. I can’t leave.’

‘So explain. What was the quotation for?’

‘There are rooms full of furniture that have been left to gather dust,’ she said. ‘Assuming the antique dealer I met can improve his offer, and I’ll make sure he does, I can at least empty the rooms I don’t use. That way, if and when I do pluck up the courage to move, it should be less traumatic.’

‘One step at a time,’ agreed Tara.

‘And if Ella happens to notice, I might tell her I’ve donated all her family heirlooms to charity,’ Faith said, referring to her grown-up stepdaughter. ‘I doubt she’d care, but her mother would be apoplectic.’

Tara couldn’t believe some of the stories Faith had told her about Derek’s embittered first wife, Rosemary. Their daughter had grown up believing all the tales her mother had spun about her father, and sadly Ella and Derek had been estranged at the time of his death. Tara felt sorry for her, but as for Rosemary, any woman who continued to use her daughter to eke out revenge on a man long since dead deserved Faith’s spite. ‘You are wicked.’

‘I know,’ Faith said with a glint in her eye that faded as she looked over Tara’s shoulder. ‘Your stray lamb has arrived.’

After greeting April with a hug, Tara guided her towards the booth where Faith had remained seated. There was an awkward moment where April dithered, seemingly unable to decide if she should offer Faith a handshake or a hug, but, to Tara’s relief, Faith stood to embrace the new arrival.

‘Faith isn’t one of life’s huggers, but after three years of group therapy, we’re getting there,’ Tara quipped.

The two friends scowled at each other before Tara retreated to the counter to make April’s coffee. From the corner of her eye, she watched April take her seat opposite Faith.

‘I hear you’re an auditor,’ Faith said, raising her voice above the gurgle of the coffee machine. ‘We were hoping you’d cast an eye over the support group accounts to see if Justine’s been skimming something off the top.’

‘Actually, I’m an internal auditor so I deal more with governance issues, but I could take a look.’ April’s eyes were wide when she turned to Tara as she approached. ‘Is there a problem?’

Tara placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of April and took the seat next to her. ‘No, there isn’t. Justine’s far more likely to add money to our fund than take from it. Faith’s teasing and she really shouldn’t.’

Faith took the reprimand with a polite nod. ‘Sorry, that was mean of me, but I don’t like the way she’s been trying to overthrow Tara. Justine hates that Tara’s looked upon as the group leader while she’s left to do the admin.’

‘Which she does really well,’ Tara added in Justine’s defence.

Tara and Justine had been friends since school and had been there for each other during the most difficult times of their lives. Justine had been a source of great strength at Mike’s funeral, never guessing that she would be the next to wear the widow’s mantle three short months later when her wife died from sepsis.

Together, they had sought out an existing widows’ group, but they had stood out from the start. Tara was in her late twenties, Justine only thirty, and as much as the older women had welcomed them, their experiences of widowhood had been markedly different. There had been no talk of childcare, careers, or the pressure society placed on them to reinvent themselves. If anything, the others envied Tara and Justine’s youth and their potential to start anew.

‘And Justine doesn’t only manage the budget,’ continued Tara. ‘She takes care of all the social media, and puts a lot of time and effort into organising us all. I couldn’t do what she does, but someone could easily replace me.’

‘That’s not going to happen,’ said Faith.

Turning to April, Tara said, ‘I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. The group is a family of sorts and Justine is like a sister to me. There really isn’t a problem between us and if ever there was, I would deal with it.’ Tara knew Faith had good intentions, but she didn’t want anyone taking sides. There were no lines to be drawn, not on her behalf. To Faith she added, ‘So can we please leave her alone?’

‘Noted,’ Faith said as she and Tara locked eyes. The moment passed and they both relaxed as they turned their attention to April.

‘Can I tempt you with some cake?’ Tara asked.

‘I haven’t had much of an appetite lately,’ April replied, ‘but it looks beautiful.’

Ignoring the refusal, Tara cut a slice and left the plate within reach. ‘You can take some home for your mum and dad, if you like.’

‘You’re living with your parents?’ Faith asked. ‘Oh, sorry. I heard what happened to your husband. No wonder you moved out.’

‘I’m not sure I could have slept there again even if I’d tried,’ April agreed with a shudder. ‘And being looked after is probably what I need right now, but to be honest, I didn’t have a choice. Jason and I had been renting our flat, and I couldn’t afford it on my own. I had to rely on family to cover the cost of the funeral, and my first priority is to pay them back before looking for a place of my own. Jason didn’t have life insurance or a pension.’

‘It happens more often than you’d think,’ Faith said. ‘My Derek died in a car crash just over four years ago. He was twelve years older, so you’d think he’d be better prepared, but he’d cashed in his pension as part of the divorce settlement with his first wife. He left me his business, but I don’t know the first thing about imports and exports and most of his contracts were verbal. I was lucky to keep the house when the company folded and its assets were stripped. My parents died when I was a teenager, so there was no one to bail me out.’