The heartwarming new story about kindness and community, from the author of The Little Village Library A little kindness can go a long way . . . Veronica's cottage is the neatest house on Mapleberry Lane. A place for everything, and everything in its place - that's her motto. But within her wisteria-covered walls, Veronica has a secret: she hasn't left her perfect home in years. Then her granddaughter arrives on the doorstep, and Veronica's orderly life is turned upside down. Ever since her parents' divorce, Audrey has struggled to find her place in the world. But with a little help from the residents of Mapleberry Lane, Audrey forms a plan to give her gran the courage to reconnect with the community: a kindness club, with one generous action a day to make their world a better place - and perhaps help each other at the same time. As their small acts of kindness begin to ripple through the village, both Veronica and Audrey find that with each passing day, they feel a little braver. There's just one task left before the end of the year: to make Veronica's own secret wish come true... The Kindness Club on Mapleberry Lane is an uplifting story in four parts about the little kindnesses that make the world a better place, perfect for fans of Cathy Bramley and Holly Hepburn. This is Part One.
Release date:
September 3, 2020
Publisher:
Orion
Print pages:
80
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A knock on the door would once have had the power to turn her legs to jelly, make her palms clammy and root her feet to the spot. But not anymore. And that, Veronica Bentley guessed, was what you called ‘progress’.
She put down the knife she was using to butter her sandwich and went to see who it was. As always, she peeked through the sitting-room shutters – the tilt of the wooden slats was a great invention, letting you spy without being seen – but when she saw it was little Layla from number twenty-five, she rushed to answer the dove-white front door to her home.
Through the open door came the smell of summer – freshly cut lawns, floral scent from the flowerbeds, birdsong – and the chirpy voice of Layla, an eight-year-old filled with more confidence than Veronica had been able to muster for years. ‘It’s me!’ said Layla from behind an enormous box.
‘I’m only seventy-one – my eyesight isn’t failing me just yet, thank you.’ Veronica ushered her inside. ‘And what do we have here?’
‘I’ve brought you carrots, onions, a lettuce and tomatoes. All grown at home,’ Layla added proudly. She rarely waited before she launched into colourful conversation.
Veronica took the wooden vegetable crate with VEG stamped onto the side. ‘It’s heavy – how did you carry this all the way?’ She went through to the kitchen and set it onto the round wooden table.
‘I’m stronger than I look.’
She was so serious, Veronica had to stifle a laugh. If there was one thing this girl brought to her life, it was her effervescent personality. ‘What’s your dad up to today?’ Veronica knew Charlie would have stood at his front door, watching his daughter walk all the way along the pavement to the garden gate of number nine Mapleberry Lane, and waited for her to go inside to know she was safe. It was the usual arrangement.
‘He has to fix my wardrobe door, which came off its hinges again.’ She added a theatrical eye roll.
Veronica was already inspecting the produce. ‘You should be proud of yourself for growing all these. Veggie patches aren’t always easy – I had a terrible time trying to grow lettuces over the years, they’d never work. And when they did, the butterflies got to them before I did.’
‘I looked after the carrots mostly, onions too, but Daddy took charge of growing the traffic-light tomatoes in his greenhouse.’
‘I don’t think I’ve heard of that variety.’
She pointed to a collection of rich red tomatoes. ‘They’re the red ones,’ she pulled out orangey heirloom tomatoes, ‘then we have amber…and finally, green.’ Beaming, she pulled out a couple of questionable-looking varieties that Veronica thought she’d have to ask Charlie about when she saw him to make sure they were fine to eat.
‘I have something else to show you,’ Layla grinned, the bottom of her dark ginger bobbed hair that wasn’t fixed in place with an Alice band swinging to and fro as she jumped on the spot in her excitement.
‘And what might that be?’
‘This!’ She proudly held out the curled-up fabric diamond she’d been clutching in her palm. With a purple background and a little pot plant embroidered on the front, along with the words ‘Grow Your Own’, it was another Brownie badge to add to her collection.
Veronica enveloped Layla in a hug. It felt like the right thing to do, even though until now she’d never held the little girl close. The feeling it gave her took Veronica quite by surprise. She hadn’t had affection like this in a long while. But Layla seemed to simply go with the flow.
Pulling herself together, she told Layla, ‘You worked hard, well done you.’ It was moments like this she should have cherished more with her own family before it was too late, before she pushed everyone away. Having Layla in her life felt like a blessing, the second chance she wasn’t sure she deserved. She’d become a surrogate granny without even realising, but that was fine by her. It somehow lessened the pain of not seeing much of her own daughter and granddaughter.
‘Brown Owl was impressed with the different things we’ve grown,’ Layla carried on. ‘She said she still hasn’t managed to grow carrots successfully. She called them her ne-me-sis.’
‘Is that right?’ She swore the little girl’s maturity and vocabulary came from all those books she read. She’d already plucked anything remotely suitable from Veronica’s bookshelves and devoured them at home before returning them to the shelves lining one wall of the lounge and another at the end of the kitchen diner. She’d raced through classics like Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and one of Veronica’s favourites, The Secret Garden. For Christmas last year, after Veronica had seen The Chronicles of Narnia collection advertised on the internet, she’d phoned to place an order that same day, knowing it was the perfect gift for Layla. And she’d been right. Layla had started with The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe on Christmas Day and made her way through all seven books, devouring each one.
‘I had to show Brown Owl photographs of me planting carrot seeds and onion seeds, and of me watering the patch after school each day. Daddy took a picture of me picking tomatoes in the greenhouse too. He did most of the work but I watered them every single day. He has cucumbers growing too but they’re not quite ready.’
‘Well, I’ll look forward to trying those. And your dad sent me all the photographs on email, so I haven’t missed out.’ She wished she’d been able to go over there and see it for herself, but email pictures were the next best thing; they kept her a part of it all.
‘Everyone clapped when I was given my badge.’ Layla’s chest puffed with pride and she couldn’t stop smiling.
‘I can sew it on like the last badge, if you like?’
‘Would you?’
‘Of course, I’d be honoured. And I’m very proud of you. I will think of you when I eat my carrots, my lettuce, my onions and tomatoes.’
‘Even the green ones…Dad says just because things are green, it doesn’t make them evil.’
‘I think he’s only talking about your green vegetables,’ Veronica smiled. This kid was too cheeky and clever for her own good. Those emerald eyes were full of intellect and mischief; a perfect combination, and one Veronica was thankful for every day. Layla popped around whenever she could and the pair had formed a tight bond as though they really were gran and granddaughter, even though there was nothing tying them together other than the simple geography of living on Mapleberry Lane.
Layla shrugged off her backpack and shuffled onto one of the wooden chairs at the small round table next to the kitchen area, making herself at home. ‘Me and Daddy had scrambled eggs on toast for our lunch. What are you having?’ She’d spotted the bread.
‘Nothing adventurous. Ham and cheese sandwich for me.’ Same as most days. Lunch tended to be basic, but Veronica loved to cook for other people if she got the chance. She carried on buttering her bread.
Layla plucked a tomato – luckily in traffic-light red, as Veronica still wasn’t sure about those green ones and she didn’t want to get sick and need a doctor’s appointment – and passed it over to her. ‘Put this in, it’ll make it nice.’ Next, she leaned over to pull out the lettuce. ‘And some of this.’
‘I tell you what, I’ll deal with the tomato if you could wash some of those lettuce leaves for me. In fact, wash them all and I’ll have a salad for my tea tonight.’ She had cajun chicken marinating in the fridge and it would go perfectly sliced on top, perhaps with some homemade croutons scattered through.
‘Can I use the funny spinny thing?’
‘The salad spinner is in the cupboard to the side of the sink.’ Layla had seen her use . . .
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