He helped put the car seat into Clara’s car and waved goodbye to them all, Pansy so excited to be in Clara’s red car.
Henry made his phone calls and put some orders in and then went into the cottage.
It needed a good clean. He went back to his van and found the industrial vacuum and sucked up the dust and the mess from the hole in the roof. He went upstairs and sucked up the mess on the stairs and the skirting as he went and then went into the bedroom.
Clara’s mattress was on the floor. He had seen the bed frame downstairs on the grass but hadn’t said a word as it wasn’t his place. The room looked grim, like somewhere a squatter would live.
He vacuumed the floor and then went downstairs and outside to the wooden bedframe. It was easy enough to pull apart though and four trips later he had all the pieces upstairs and had managed to put them back in order and set up her bed. It looked better but still dull.
Downstairs in the living room, he had seen a small three-legged witches’ table that would be perfect next to her bed. With three carved legs, it was actually a lovely piece of furniture, he thought as he wiped it down with a wet cloth and found, under the dust, some faint flowers painted on the top.
Naomi would have loved this, he thought as he carried it up to Clara’s bedroom. The room needed something else though. He went downstairs and out to the garden and saw what he wanted down the side of the house.
A pink wild rose, messy but still thriving. He used his knife to cut off a few blooms and inside he placed them into a teacup with water and put them by Clara’s bed.
Naomi had loved flowers by her bed when she was sick. God, she would have loved Acorn Cottage. He closed the door to Clara’s bedroom and went outside again.
But Naomi was gone, and he had never felt more alone since she had died. It was as though the world was taunting him with the cottage and the dream that he couldn’t have now. This was what they wanted and here he was, a widower with a van for a house and a child who he was holding back because of his own failings. He needed to step up but the problem was, he didn’t know how.
*
By the time Pansy and Clara returned, he had made all the orders and had a plan for the work to be done in sequence. And on top of it all, he had made a lovely chicken stew for dinner with rosemary potatoes and fresh beans.
Pansy came dancing into the van with a plastic tiara on her head and fairy wings.
Clara shrugged at him and threw her hands up in surrender. ‘I know you said don’t buy her anything, but they were at the pound shop in the next village. I went to get a few things for cleaning and she told me had to have them, as her life depended on it. And I didn’t want to return her on the cusp of death because she couldn’t get a tiara and wings.’
Henry laughed. ‘She seems to have a lot of things that her short life has depended on so far, so it’s lucky she is so aware of what her survival needs. How is Rachel?’ He gestured to the empty seat in the van, as Pansy danced about the small living area.
Clara shook her head. ‘I don’t know. She seemed relieved but guilty. She refused to see her mother and wanted to go home and make plans for the bakery for tomorrow. She seemed almost excited to be alone.’
Henry lifted the lid on the stew and stirred it. ‘You would be though, not having your abuser around – it would be like winning the lotto.’
Clara was silent, he noticed, staring into the distance, her mind far away. He noticed how pretty she was and wondered why she wanted to live so far away from people when she was so young. She should be out dating and dancing and having holidays with friends.
‘How old are you?’ he asked.
‘Twenty-nine, why?’ Clara frowned. ‘Do I look older since I’ve come here?’
‘I didn’t know you before here so I can’t say but no, I was just wondering why a person your age wants to live in a tiny village in a tiny cottage with no social life or even a boyfriend.’
Clara smiled ruefully. ‘I don’t know either but I’m here now and I will make it work. I make everything work with a few minor adjustments here and there.’
‘But shouldn’t you be out at clubs and bars, dancing and going to cool restaurants?’
‘I could do those things but it’s never really been me,’ Clara answered. ‘My whole life I wanted something like this. I want a slower life, one where I know what I’m eating and doing and making something instead of buying it. I guess I just want something that means something to me, and being here in Merryknowe, even after a few days, meeting Tassie and Rachel and you and Pansy, it’s the most exciting time I’ve had in a long time, which is either really sad or it’s really wonderful. I’m going with wonderful.’
Henry listened to her speak then nodded. ‘I get it, I really do.’
They smiled at each other and he felt the warmth of friendship and shared understanding between them.
‘Whatever you’re cooking smells amazing,’ Clara said as she stood up. ‘I should go and get organised for my dinner.’
‘Stay,’ he said suddenly. ‘I’ve cooked too much and I would love some adult company.’
Clara paused. ‘I really don’t want to put you out. I was planning on cooking tonight anyway.’
‘Oh? What? I don’t think the Aga works yet.’
‘Cheese on toast,’ she said. ‘The breakfast,
