The Kindness Club on Mapleberry Lane - Part Three

by Helen Rolfe

Genres: Small Town & Rural; Women's Fiction; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

A heartwarming new story about kindness and community, from the author of The Little Village Library The smallest things can make the biggest difference... It may be cold outside, but for the first time in years Veronica's cottage on Mapleberry Lane is full of warmth and laughter. With the chemistry still fizzing between Sam and Charlie, the handsome parademic down the road, Audrey catching the eye of a boy at school, and even Veronica striking up an online friendship - or perhaps a flirtation - it seems that romance is in the air this season. But with three generations of Beecham women living under one roof there is bound to be drama. Deep down Sam is longing to find a place of her own, Audrey is dreaming of life on the other side of the world, and Veronica still feels trapped inside her home. Could the kindness club they've created bring them together and make Veronica's secret wish come true? And when disaster strikes, will Veronica find the courage to take a step into the unknown - and save the day? An uplifting story told 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 Three.

Release date: November 12, 2020

Publisher: Orion

Print pages: 96

Sample

Sam made herself a cup of tea and cradled it against her chest, the heat warming her through her dressing gown; her mum’s old house didn’t have quite the same level of insulation as she’d been used to in her previous home. It was early December, the weather had well and truly turned, and already Sam had no doubt they’d be enjoying the open fire in the lounge today. The good thing, if there was one, about her mum never leaving the house was that it was never a waste of time lighting a fire; it would be appreciated and watched over the entire day.

Winter frost set the scene in the back garden of Number Nine Mapleberry Lane as Sam stood looking out of the kitchen window. A dusting of white glistened on trees and shrubs when the sun shone down and already Sam suspected it was going to be one of those beautiful crisp days you could watch for ever. A robin redbreast came to perch on the bird table, disrupting the frost which scattered to the ground.

‘Always makes me think of Christmas.’ Veronica had crept downstairs so softly Sam hadn’t heard her. Or maybe she’d just been in a world of her own.

‘What does?’

‘The robin.’

‘That’s right, your Christmas card every year has a robin as part of the design.’ Sam watched the bird as its little head kept flicking left to right, beady eyes taking everything in and spindly legs ready to take flight whenever it liked. Her mum’s cards weren’t exactly the same every year, there was always some variation. Perhaps it was a robin with its breast as vibrant as the pillar box it stood on top of, or the bird was perched on a log covered in snow, or maybe it was nestled among holly and big red berries.

Veronica’s celebrations of Christmas included sending cards, to whom Sam had no idea, but very little else. Or at least that’s how Sam remembered it. Sam had been the one to put up the tree when her mum retreated into herself all those years ago, it had been Sam who organised presents to be around the tree so it was some semblance of normality for everyone. She had no idea what her mum did now to mark the occasion.

Veronica made a cup of tea for herself. ‘Audrey won’t be up for ages yet. Teenagers sleep for hours – I remember those days.’

Soon it wouldn’t affect Sam quite as much because yesterday she’d finally signed on the dotted line for a one-bedroom flat. Audrey was to stay with her gran for the time being while she finished school and although Sam had been resistant at first, she’d wondered whether a little distance between them could end up bringing them closer in the long run. Audrey had certainly seemed very happy with the idea.

‘You need to tell her, Sam.’

Sam didn’t need to ask what her mum was referring to. She knew, and she’d put it off for a long while now, ever since the autumn. Her ex-husband, Simon, seemed to be leaving it up to her to tell their fifteen-year-old daughter that although he had this wonderful new life in New Zealand, he didn’t want her to go over there to join him. No doubt Simon was worried about what this would do to his relationship with his new wife and children but Sam liked to think he was also concerned about Audrey. And so he should be, it was his fault she’d been so wrapped up in the idea in the first place, whether it was intentional or not. If he’d said from the start that she was better off in the UK at least until she was much older, if he hadn’t filled her head with all these images of a life that seemed out of reach, then Sam wouldn’t be having this dilemma now.

‘She’s only just started talking to me more,’ said Sam. The robin had hopped off somewhere else while she’d been distracted.

‘None of this is your fault – it’s Simon’s.’

‘You really think she’ll see it that way?’ Sam tipped the dregs of her tea into the sink and rinsed her cup, looking out again to see the robin this time perched on the highest point of the frosty rockery at the end of the garden. ‘It’s beautiful out there today.’

‘It’s what you might call a perfect winter’s day,’ said Veronica. ‘I can’t wait for it to snow, that muffled effect I can feel even inside the house.’

Sam didn’t often mention her mum’s agoraphobia. She’d always known what it was; she’d covered similar topics in her degree course as well as picking up enough from literature she’d read when she tried in vain to cope with it, at a time when all she wanted was her mother back, but understanding and sympathising was different when applying it to your own family, especially when its effect on you had been so powerful.

‘How about we walk to the end of the garden together later?’ Sam suggested.

Veronica hesitated. ‘I’ll see. Maybe.’

Sam sighed. ‘I wish you’d get some help.’

‘Leave it, Sam. I’m happy as I am. Content. Old.’

‘You’re not fooling me or anyone else.’ Sam could see plenty, apart from the new hairdo – fear, worry, all etched into her expression even when she was smiling. Sam had noticed Audrey trying to coax her gran into doing more, becoming a part of the bigger world hovering outside the doors of her home. Or were they trying to fix something that couldn’t be fixed? ‘I’m going to go for a long walk round to the fields today to see the big Christmas tree. I walked the other way to the community centre last night so I didn’t get to see it.’ There’d been no talk as yet of having a tree in the house and Sam didn’t like to mention it too often.

‘You’ll enjoy it. I’m hoping the Facebook residents group has lots of photos on there.’

‘How are you enjoying the new group?’ Audrey had got her gran involved in the online Mapleberry Village Residents Group and Veronica seemed to have got into the swing of it. ‘Did you see the photos of the community mosaic wall?’

‘They’re impressive. I did my best to spot my crockery in pieces but…’

Sam smiled at Veronica’s little joke. The community mosaic wall that separated the local community centre from the road had been a Mapleberry project for months. Locals had smashed up old plates, bowls, teapots, mugs – whatever they could get their hands on. And those pieces were glued into place in the shape of flowers, leaves, grass, a couple of butterflies and even a gnome, making the most glorious colourful garden scene up against what had once been a rather dull wall. Last night had been the grand unveiling and although Sam hadn’t got to go with Audrey, she’d seen her face through the crowds, looking on and glad to have been involved in the destruction of china as well as adding her creative flair to some of the tallest flowers.

‘The photos don’t do it justice,’ said Sam, ‘it’s wonderful, really colourful. A little bit of summer even though we’re now into winter.’ She almost wished she’d been in the right head space to help with it along the way, but seeing the finished results would have to be enough.

‘I could easily waste a lot of time looking at everyone’s posts and photos if I’m not careful,’ said Veronica before Sam took her turn in the bathroom while it was free.

Sam left the house less than an hour later, bundled up in a midnight blue wool coat with a grape-coloured bobble hat and matching scarf as well as ankle boots lined with so much fur it made her feel as though she had a pair of slippers on. The high street across the way was ready for the season. Although not lit up now, even at a distance Sam could see the lights that had been strung from lampposts; as the day went on and the sunlight faded, the darkness would give the illuminations their full effect. Shopfronts had twinkly lights around their windows and the pub in the distance had enough lights around the entrance, it would be like a beacon come nightfall. The café was kitted out for the f. . .