Alex Brown - The Secret of Orchard Cottage - The feel-good number one bestseller

This had made April very self-conscious, often feeling whenever she left the house for essential trips, such as the bank, supermarket and such like, that everyone was looking at her, as if she had a big sign hanging around her neck that said, ‘My husband died and now I’m turning into a very sad and lonely recluse’. It was an utterly awful way to be. But slowly, it had subsided and her confidence was starting to return – just driving to Tindledale had already given her a boost, something she wouldn’t have even contemplated doing a while ago. Although, she reflected, some of those friends had drifted away … maybe it was too late and they had run out of patience already, moved on. After all, they had their own life ups and downs to deal with, so she couldn’t blame them for that. April chewed the inside of her cheek, and resolved to make more of an effort when she got back home. She’d neglected her aunt, and it wouldn’t do to neglect the few friends that she had left as well. Yes, a change of scenery sure had given her a different perspective on things. And maybe she’d go back to work, find a nursing job again – she’d thought about it on and off since Gray had died, but somehow hadn’t managed to actually put herself forward, get a plan in place and be proactive about it. It had felt, somehow, in that time, that going back to work meant the part of her life with Gray was properly over, and she hadn’t been sure she was ready for that …

April went back into the kitchen and was pleasantly surprised to see that her aunt was laying the table for dinner. Humming to herself, Edie seemed perfectly sprightly as she nipped around the table making sure everything was just so. Knives, forks, pudding spoons, napkins and even a jug of iced water with two glasses. It was nice to see, and gave April a warm glow, a sense of having come home, belonging, just like she had felt as a child during those trips to Tindledale …

‘You’re just in time. Dinner won’t be long, dear. Sit down and I’ll dish up.’ Edie smiled, reaching for a very faded, holey tea towel with which to open the Aga to check on the pie. April hesitated, unsure whether to intervene or not as the tea towel really wasn’t up to the job of protecting an old lady’s hand from getting burnt. But April was conscious that she was in her aunt’s home and didn’t want to be seen as interfering – and, besides, her aunt seemed to be managing just fine, as she then flung the tea towel over her shoulder and pushed a masher into the saucepan of potatoes and started mashing, so April sat down. On second thoughts, maybe not! Hot water was splashing everywhere. April jumped up and gently took the masher from Edie as she winced when a droplet landed on her bare arm.

‘Oh dear. I forgot to drain the potatoes,’ Edie said, wiping her arm on her apron before clasping her hands together.

‘It’s OK. Easy mistake to make,’ April consoled, carefully lifting her aunt’s arm to check that she wasn’t hurt. Thankfully, she was fine. ‘How about you sit down and let me wait on you for a change? Think of me as your waitress for this evening. Dinner will be served in five minutes, Madame.’ April did a little bow and laughed, remembering the game they always played in the past when she had visited as a child. Aunt Edie would let her carefully bring the plates to the table, reminding her to use two hands, and April had felt so grown up. Sometimes, the game had started earlier with April pulling out a piece of paper from her letter-writing set on which to write a menu, and then Aunt Edie would pretend to choose her favourite dish – naturally it was always the meal that they were actually having. April wondered if her aunt would remember – probably not, it was such a long time ago – but to her delight Edie’s face broke into a smile of recollection.

‘Well, that would be marvellous, my dear. But aren’t you forgetting something?’ April raised an eyebrow, mentally crossing her fingers. ‘The menu? We must have a menu.’ And as if by magic, April instantly felt transported back in time. Just like the old days, before her parents died and her whole world changed, to a simpler section of her life, halcyon, where nothing bad ever happened, or so it had seemed back then. And it really was rather lovely to relive the memory … if only for a few minutes. And Aunt Edie looked calm and relaxed too, her eyes had come alive and gone all sparkly, but then there was a certain safety in the past, a comfort. April had seen it with Gray, especially towards the end when she knew he had been feeling frightened, and Aunt Edie had seemed fearful earlier too when she couldn’t remember who Harvey was. Gray had coped by cosying up with a blanket and watching all the old Monty Python shows with Nancy – something they had done together when she was a child – the pair of them nodding along to that upbeat ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’ song. Gray, with a very content smile on his face, cocooned almost in a bubble of familiarity and happy memories that this simple pastime recreated.

‘Coming right up!’ Keen to see if reconnecting with the past would have a positive effect on Aunt Edie, April darted off to the sitting room to retrieve her handbag – there was a notepad inside, but she needed something to write with. She popped her head through the hatch. ‘Do you have a pen, Aunty?’

‘Look in the sideboard, dear.’

‘Thanks.’ April pulled open the door and immediately inhaled. Mothballs and lavender. Ahh, she really was ten years old all over again. She selected a pencil from an old, washed-out Del Monte peach tin, then went to close the door, but paused to run her finger over the red felt lining inside the sideboard, just as she’d loved to do as a child. Then, after closing the door, she stood up and quickly glanced again at the framed photos: her parents – Dad with his arm around Mum, her long hair blowing out in the breeze – and April in her Brownie uniform with a big gappy smile after losing two front teeth. There were also photos of various people she didn’t recognise – although on closer inspection, the one of a teenage girl standing under an apple tree looked just like Edie, only much, much younger, with lovely long dark plaits (it was hard to be sure with the picture being black and white) and a gorgeous smile that lit up her whole face. Next to this was a picture of the woman in the uniform, only this time she was wearing a lovely, floral tea dress and had a beautiful, sunny smile, and there was definitely a family resemblance. Molly was right, because if this was Winnie, she did look a bit like April with her dark curly hair and petite frame.

Having polished off Molly’s scrumptious pie, runners and mash, April went to clear the plates away, but Aunt Edie stopped her by placing a hand on April’s forearm.

‘What is it, dear?’

‘Um, what do you mean?’ April, her hand still clasped around a plate, hesitated.

‘Well, you’ve been awfully quiet, and that’s not like you.’ Edie’s voice softened. ‘What is it, Winnie?’ April blinked. And sighed inwardly, as she had already corrected her aunt three times over dinner, but to no avail. So, deciding on another approach, April tackled the issue head on.

‘Aunty, I’m not Winnie. But I’d love to know who she is. Can you tell me about her?’ April smiled and waited, eager to hear more about Winnie, the relative she had never known.

Silence followed.

Edith stared at April. She blinked a few times, frowned and then glanced away with a doubtful look on her face. Suspicious almost. And then attempted to cover up her muddle by saying, ‘Oh, now you’re just teasing me. Shall I put the kettle on?’ And she stood up and turned her back.

April’s heart sank with disappointment; she was so keen to know more about her family, but she decided to leave it for now. She didn’t want to put pressure on her aunt, make her feel alarmed by bringing attention to her failing faculties, and maybe there was a valid reason why Aunt Edie was being evasive, confused, or whatever it was that was going on for her.