Rebecca Pugh - Down on Daffodil Lane

Maria loved him to the moon and back, and could only thank him and appreciate his efforts. He had her best interests at heart, bless him, and to begrudge that wasn’t right, no matter how grumpy she felt.

That morning, Rob had turned up completely out of the blue and frogmarched her from the cottage, after ordering her to take a shower and get dressed. She knew it was bad because those were the sorts of things a person should want to take care of without needing to be told to do so by someone else, especially their brother. He’d also thrown into the mix a nice little remark on how rubbish she looked which hadn’t done much for her already crumbling self-confidence. Maria wasn’t sure whether she was thankful or annoyed in regards to his presence, but then there was still time to make up her mind. One part of her was grumbling over his interference while the other adored him for it, because she knew it was the kick up the backside she needed. The moping about and self-pity was beginning to bore her but she’d fallen into a pit she couldn’t get out of, no matter how much she tried to claw her way up the side.

Rob found a table, and Maria swallowed nervously. Being in the cafe meant inviting curiosity, which wasn’t what she wanted at all. She wanted the opposite. Maria wanted to tiptoe about in the shadows and be left to her own devices. Rob, as always, had other ideas – and didn’t seem to care whether she agreed with them or not, tugging her along on a wave of enthusiasm which they didn’t quite share.

‘This is exactly what we were looking for,’ Robert declared happily as he rubbed his hands together with relish. ‘Warm, inviting and…’ he sat down and snatched up a menu from the table, ‘they have a killer menu. Spot-on, this is.’ He added a nod for good measure and pointed towards the opposite chair, indicating for Maria to sit down.

She joined him and, once comfortable, glanced about the cafe. He was right, it was lovely, but lovely or not, it didn’t change how she felt inside. She knew that it bordered on ridiculous, the fact that she was worried to such an extent about merely heading into town. After all, people did this every single day. She eyed her brother but his face was hidden behind the menu he was scanning. His eyes swept over the laminated page hungrily. He was one of those infuriating people who didn’t seem to gain a pound no matter what he ate and how often, whereas Maria was sure that she would put on weight from merely looking at a slice of chocolate cake. She was suddenly aware of her thighs bunching together on the seat and knew she’d let herself down recently. She had gained a few pounds but she had her reasons. Tubs of ice cream and glasses of wine had never felt so reassuring, and they also managed to do a wonderful job of taking her mind off all of the things that troubled her. Like what she’d do with her life now that it only included herself, and who she’d spend every single day loving.

While she waited for Rob to finish his perusal of the menu, Maria thought back over her situation and felt another part of herself crumble away. It had been three weeks since she’d arrived at Daffodil Lane, and within that time she hadn’t left the cottage once. Thankfully, her mother’s friend, Geraldine, who owned the cottage, had popped by to stock up on food and other necessities that Maria might need, so she’d managed to survive quite well without having to step outside the cottage door. She didn’t want to meet new people and make new friends. That wasn’t what the trip was about. All she wanted was time to herself. Time to sit down and think about what she’d do next – if she could manage to clear her head long enough to do so.

There had been no chance of that happening back home, which was why she’d come here in the first place. There was always someone there, offering guidance and advice – one friend even going so far as urging Maria to ‘get back in the saddle’. She’d been unable to form a reply and instead excused herself. Get back in the saddle indeed , she’d grumbled while stalking off. The very thought had Maria quaking in her boots (or rather, slippers, which she’d become rather fond of instead of actual shoes). She’d needed to get away.

Where she was staying now, Maria couldn’t have done much better in terms of beauty and stunning scenery. The village of Loland Green was tucked away in the lush Shropshire countryside. Until Geraldine had mentioned the area, Maria had been oblivious to its existence. Afterwards, curiosity getting the better of her, she’d looked it up online, and had been pleasantly surprised by the visual results. It was very… green. Very green, indeed. To Maria, the fact that it appeared quite isolated from the surrounding areas was a massive bonus. And the cottage was gorgeous, nestled on Daffodil Lane, the aged exterior swathed in climbing ivy and glorious rambling roses that only seemed to be growing wilder with the passing days.

After a horrendous couple of weeks following the discovery of her husband, Mike’s affair, Maria had had no choice but to go back to her mother’s house seeking refuge. She’d let Mike remain in their home, unable to stay there herself. Looking back now, perhaps she should have been firmer and told him to sling his hook. She’d been too shaken up to be assertive or in control at the time. She’d needed the easy way out so she’d taken it and ran back to the woman who’d always known her best.

Heading back to Ellen’s had been humiliating to say the least. Ellen Charm had fussed around her as if Maria were a child again, gradually becoming more and more unbearable by the day, although Maria knew that was how Ellen showed that she cared. She was motherly and nurturing, and sometimes that was interpreted as fussy and overbearing.

Maria remembered the day Geraldine had popped by and offered her the use of the Daffodil Lane cottage. Still in her pyjamas with her hair un-brushed and dirty socks on her feet, Maria had merely grunted in response to Geraldine’s suggestion that she get away while all this blew over. How could almost eleven years of marriage merely ‘blow over’? It wasn’t a slight slip-up, it was the end of an era. Her married life to the man she’d said her wedding vows to had been smashed into smithereens, and Geraldine thought it would all blow over?

Maria had been tempted to tell Geraldine to bugger off but, as always, Ellen had the last word.

‘Oh Maria, stop with the self-pity. The trembling voice. It doesn’t suit you, darling. Geraldine has offered you the perfect opportunity to get away and enjoy some “you” time, and you’re refusing it? No. I don’t think so. You may be thirty-two but you will listen to me and you’ll listen good, do you understand? You will take this offer. You will go to Loland Green, and you will sort yourself out while you’re there. Mike was a selfish bastard, that much is true, but I refuse to let my only daughter crumble into dust because of a man’s lack of control and loyalty. In case you’re forgetting my dear, I’ve been through this too and I can tell you now, it wasn’t easy, especially with two children, but I’m still alive and kicking, and you will be too.’ Ellen had taken a calm sip of her tea then, as if she hadn’t just said what she had.

Maria didn’t think she’d ever heard her mother make a speech like that before, with so much passion behind her words. She’d quickly agreed to Geraldine’s offer. Now here she was in Loland Green.

‘Cooked breakfast for two?’ Rob peeped over the top of his menu and waggled his brows up and down, bringing Maria back to the present. ‘And is it two sugars you take with your coffee? I can’t remember.’

She nodded in reply and Rob rose from the table and headed towards the counter against the furthest wall. It looked resplendent with a display of floral teacups arranged artistically upon a cake-stand, conjuring up an image of a dollhouse she’d had when she was little.