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

‘Yes, that’s right. You’re April. Molly mentioned that you were here visiting your aunt, our lovely Edie, and the star of the weekly tea dance in the village hall.’

‘Oh, yes, um … that’s right,’ April replied apprehensively, wondering if Molly had mentioned their conversation about Gray too. But then Deedee said, ‘Are you here on your own, or have you got a gorgeous husband hidden about the place?’ in a breezy voice, as she scanned around the garden as if searching for him. So Molly clearly hadn’t gossiped, and April was pleased that she had been discreet, remembering that news usually travelled fast in a small village like Tindledale. Whenever April had arrived to stay with her aunt in the school summer holidays, within an hour or so the local children would be down to the cottage to see if she was coming out to play in the fields after someone had spotted her parents’ green Morris Minor Traveller pulling into the village store on the way to get a box of chocolates to go with the flowers as a present for Edie. Everyone always knew everyone else’s business. Tindledale was just that kind of place.

April took a breath and felt much more prepared for the question this time.

‘No, just me – here to spend some time with my aunt …’ April said as cheerily as she could muster.

‘Lovely. Well, if you’re at a loose end this afternoon and fancy a bit of a booooogie ,’ Deedee paused to do an enthusiastic shoulder shimmy, making her boobs wobble around like two jellies, and April laugh, ‘then you are more than welcome to join us. The more the merrier. Isn’t that right, my love?’ And Deedee tucked her arm through the crook of Edie’s elbow, giving the top of her hand a little pat.

‘Ooh, yes,’ Edie agreed. ‘And don’t be put off by it being called a tea dance. It’s not a load of old dears shuffling around the dance floor in pairs because all the men in the village have already popped their clogs. Certainly not. There’s the raffle to think about too. And the general does a veeeeery good quiz.’ Edie nodded her head several times as if to emphasise this fact. ‘And there will be sandwiches and cake. And champagne!’ she continued marvelling, all the while making big eyes.

‘Yes, that’s right. My Meg makes it – homemade fizzy elderflower champagne,’ Deedee confirmed. ‘Goes lovely with the buffet – a smashing spread of cold cuts and healthy salad options, courtesy of my Meg’s other half, Dan – he’s a famous chef you know, on the telly and everything … well, used to be, he’s retired now. Not that he’s old or anything, oh no, very fit and vibrant in fact. He just doesn’t need the pressure of the high life any more so he sold his Michelin restaurant in London for an absolute fortune and can afford to take it easy now.’ Deedee paused to take a quick breath and puff her hair up a little more, clearly captivated by her daughter’s partner. ‘And we always have a beautiful selection of pastries and fairy cakes from Kitty’s café. It’s called The Spotted Pig. Can’t miss it, it’s on the corner of the High Street. You must try it if you get a chance … the Battenberg is TO DIE FOR!’ Deedee shook her head and fluttered her eyes as if being transported to her very own personal nirvana, while April felt breathless on her behalf just taking it all in.

Then Edie smiled brightly and added, ‘And my niece loves a little tipple, don’t you April?’

April instantly flicked her attentions on to her aunt. Ahh, a moment of clarity! And suddenly, April felt very thrilled to have her aunt back again, even if she was making her sound like some kind of lush.

‘ Weell , I’m not sure I’d put it quite like—’ April started.

‘Do you remember those snowballs, April?’ Edie interjected and April nodded, fascinated that her aunt now seemed able to remember this minutiae – they’d had those snowballs over thirty years ago! ‘I’ll have to make you one before you go home. You loved them as a teenager. We could make a night of it just like we used to – play a few hands of rummy while we are at it too – if I can find the blasted pack of cards that is.’ Edie shook her head and turned to Deedee. ‘I’ve searched high and low and they’ve disappeared. April had a look too but no luck …’

‘Ooh, I’m so sorry, I should have said – I have them in my handbag in the bus for you. I picked them up by accident after last week’s tea dance. Do you remember, Edie? I helped you into your sitting room and plonked my pashmina on the sideboard only to scoop up the pack of cards with it when I left.’

‘Ahh, well that solves that mystery – thank heavens you did, dear!’ Edie smiled kindly at Deedee. ‘For a moment there I thought I was losing my marbles.’ And both women chuckled to themselves before proceeding down the garden path to the waiting bus, leaving April wondering why she had ever worried about her aunt. Clearly her memory wasn’t that bad, and she was having the time of her life, whooping it up at the weekly tea dance with her ‘date’, the general. And in a strange moment of role reversal, April felt quite eager to meet the general, if only to assure herself that he was indeed a suitable suitor for her dear old great aunt Edie.

As she waved the two ladies off, April couldn’t resist grinning. Deedee was certainly a bon vivant, a breath of fresh air, and April admired her zest for life and the ease with which she had brought ‘Old Edie’ to life, practically transforming her into a much younger woman in the blink of an eye. It was infectious. And April felt spurred on by it, in addition to the wave of confidence she now had after reconnecting with her past last night, and so in a rare, but quite welcome moment of spontaneity, she decided to get in her Beetle and go to the High Street.

But first, she would pick a selection of pretty wild flowers from Edie’s back garden as a little thank-you gift for Molly. (April was quite sure her aunt wouldn’t mind; there were hundreds to choose from in any case so April wondered if she would even notice.) April could ask about a gardener too while she returned the pie dish, and it would be a chance to have a look around Tindledale and see if it had changed much since her last visit. She might even treat herself to a nice slice of Battenberg in The Spotted Pig café. Yes, April thought this sounded like a very nice thing to do.

And for the first time in a very long time, April didn’t feel wobbly at the prospect of going out alone, without at least having someone she knew by her side, supporting her as they had for the last eighteen months – Nancy, Freddie, her friends from the knitting club or the girls from the gym … the ones that had stuck around, that is, the ones who, despite April’s lack of desire to socialise, had still visited and taken her out for the occasional coffee. Well, now she’d have something to talk to them about, something other than how she was coping, or how she felt, or if she’d had a good day …

On arriving in Tindledale, April parked the Beetle right outside the village store, pleased to have found a space – well, on closer inspection there were several in fact. The heart of Tindledale with its cobbled High Street lined on either side with tiny Tudor-framed shops with even tinier mullioned windows wasn’t exactly a bustling metropolis, April noticed as she closed the car door behind her and went to walk off. Smiling, she looked around and saw that the village hadn’t changed at all since her last visit, indeed it was almost the same as when she used to visit as a child in the school holidays. The only difference now was a jaunty polka-dotted length of bunting bobbing in the breeze linking the lampposts, and on the corner opposite the village green was an extremely exotic-looking Indian restaurant. Wow! Double-fronted with a selection of brightly painted tables outside with gold and white parasols. Gray would have loved it – he was very partial to a chicken balti with all the trimmings.