She felt Clara’s hand on her back, rubbing along her spine, as she cried.
‘I don’t have any friends,’ she said.
‘You do, you have me now,’ said Clara. ‘We’re new friends.’
‘Mother thinks I’m useless, and gets upset with me. She says everything I do isn’t up to scratch.’
‘You, Rachel Brown, are miles above scratch,’ said Clara. ‘You are beyond scratch. You are in the stratosphere of brilliant. Look at everything you do. The shop and the baking and caring for your mum – you are amazing.’
Rachel had never heard these words before. They made her feel like she was wearing a coat that was too tight for her body, tight on the arms and shoulders. It felt foreign and she tried to shrug it off.
‘I’m not. Mother says I would be in a home for women who aren’t very smart if it wasn’t for her.’
‘I don’t know what century your mother lives in in her head but there is no such home for women like that, so she is wrong and you mustn’t listen to her.’ Clara sounded cross and Rachel was sorry she had been disloyal to her mother.
They sat in silence as Rachel’s tears subsided and finally Clara spoke.
‘I don’t want to leave you here alone today,’ said Clara. ‘You should come and see my cottage and meet the man who is going to fix it up for me. He has the funniest little girl who says the funniest things. I think she will be just the tonic for today.’
Rachel looked up at Clara.
‘You think I should take the day off?’
‘I do. I think you should come and have a drive and see the place and we can mooch around together and then I’ll drive you to the hospital when the hospital rings.’
Rachel was silent and she stood up.
‘I’ll get changed then,’ she said, smiling a little at Clara. ‘Thank you.’ She wished she could do more for her new friend.
‘You’re welcome,’ said Clara and her smile was so warm that Rachel burst into tears again.
‘You have to stop being kind to me; it makes me cry,’ said Rachel.
‘Nope, you deserve kindness and you are allowed to cry and that’s the end of that. Now have a nice warm shower and use all the water until it runs cold and then we’ll pop over to mine and play house, okay?’
Rachel nodded at the helpful instructions and did exactly as Clara said.
*
They drove to the cottage in Clara’s red Mini Cooper with the top down. She had music playing that Rachel didn’t recognise but she liked the beat and she liked when Clara sang along, not knowing the words, so sort of making them up.
Clara was exactly like Rachel imagined a fairy would be in human form and she even forgave her for taking the cottage for herself.
Clara told her about her horrible cheating boyfriend and Rachel agreed to hate him also, because that was the right thing to do as a friend. Clara told her she wanted Rachel to teach her how to bake and for the first time in twenty-five years, Rachel felt free.
It felt like everything that had happened up until they got into the car had been imagined and now Rachel was really living her life. Her best life, as Tassie McIver had said to her the other day.
‘Find your best life, Rachel Brown, because it isn’t with your mother,’ Tassie had said as she paid for her lemon cake and tea. Rachel hadn’t understood what she meant but now she did. She could feel the wind in her hair, which she had worn down, and hear Clara singing as they passed the sheep munching in the fields. Rachel wanted to scream at the blue skies that she was free for today.
‘I want to renovate the tearooms,’ she said out of the blue, surprising herself as they drove.
‘Do you? You should,’ said Clara. ‘What would you do? I love this idea by the way.’
Rachel paused, thinking about her ideas that she dreamed about at night in her room.
‘I would make them cosy and cute, like the inside of a little old-fashioned parlour. Bookshelves with books and games for people to read and play. There’s a fireplace behind the wall, and I could have a fire and armchairs. And flowers and wooden tables and a pink wall and peacock feathers…’
She gasped at her thoughts being spoken aloud. It felt like she was betraying her mother by saying the words to Clara.
But Clara was nodding excitedly in agreement.
‘I can see it. It would be amazing, really. Just wonderful, you can do all of that and more.’
But Rachel was silent as they drove down the bumpy lane towards the cottage.
She wondered if that would ever happen. Probably not while her mother was in her life and in the tearooms and bakery. She had never imagined her mother not controlling everything about her existence, until now. Clara made her feel that maybe it was all somehow possible, as though she could make magic happen and could help other people find the magic inside them.
What could she be without her mother? As the cottage came into view, Rachel had an idea.
13
Henry and Pansy were in the garden when Clara returned with Rachel to the cottage.
Within moments of meeting, Rachel and Pansy were firm friends, with Rachel joining Pansy under the oak tree to discuss potential market spots for the fairies who lived in the trees, and what sort of special biscuits they would make for the fairies.
Clara watched them as Henry joined her side.
‘She okay?’ he asked in a low voice.
‘Unsure. The mother is abusive but she’s an adult so what can I do?’
‘Is she an adult though?’ asked Henry. ‘She seemed very young emotionally.’
‘She’s so sheltered she has no self-awareness and her self-esteem is next to nothing,’ sighed Clara.
She turned to the cottage. ‘Now, about this, I need
