‘Oh really?’ He laughed. ‘Clara might have other ideas.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Pansy. ‘She asks a lot of questions about you.’
‘Does she?’ Henry felt pleased and confused and like that dammed teenager again.
‘What sort of questions?’ He tried to play it cool.
‘About our house and about me going to school and about if you have a girlfriend and if you liked medium steak or something.’
Henry tried to stifle a laugh and failed.
‘Maybe she’s just trying to get to know me through you – I mean you know me better than anyone.’
‘I wasn’t sure if you liked steak, but I told her you like sausages and so do I. I think I will have to know you better also, Daddy.’
He looked at his serious little daughter and he was filled with such love for her. He leaned down and kissed her curly head.
‘That’s okay, we have plenty of time to get to know each other. Now, go and get dressed and we’ll head off for the day.’
Pansy ran out to the van while he finished the dishes and washed them and put them in the drying rack.
‘I’m ready,’ he heard, and turned to see Clara in jeans and a white shirt and pink blazer. She put a foot up to show her silver sneakers. ‘I have my sensible footwear on, so we can go traipsing through the shops.’
‘Excellent,’ he said, feeling awkward. ‘I did the dishes.’ Why did he say that? Was he wanting praise? What a stupid thing to say. She can see you did the dishes, you idiot.
‘Thank you,’ Clara said. They stared at each other for a long moment.
‘Clara,’ he began to say.
‘Yes?’ she answered quickly almost, breathlessly.
‘I’m ready,’ yelled Pansy, jumping through the door in a party dress, gumboots and fairy wings.
‘Perfect shopping attire,’ said Clara as she held Pansy’s hand and twirled her. ‘Let’s go and show Chippenham how the cool people dress for shopping.’
*
The drive to Chippenham was lovely. Pansy chatted in the car and then fell asleep, and he and Clara sat in comfortable silence, occasionally commenting on a cottage they passed or a farm or a lovely view. The countryside seemed greener and brighter than Henry had remembered it before.
The music on the radio played softly and sometimes he and Clara would sing along as though to themselves but not really. They could hear each other and there was no self-consciousness. They were just in complete unison.
When they arrived in Chippenham, Henry took them straight to the paint shop.
‘We need to find the perfect pink for the outside,’ he said. He was holding Pansy, who was still dozing, her head on his shoulder.
Clara picked up a selection of pink cards. He stood close to her, as she shuffled through them. He could feel her shoulder against his arm and it made his heart beat faster.
She leaned against him slightly or was he imagining it? He wasn’t sure. Pansy was heavy in his arms, but he couldn’t put her down. She was anchoring him, because being this close to Clara made him feel like he would float away.
‘Kiss me,’ he heard Clara say and he felt dizzy.
‘Sorry?’ he said to her.
‘The paint, this colour, it’s called Kiss Me. Do you like it?’ she asked.
‘Perfect,’ he said trying to get his thoughts straight. ‘Absolutely perfect.’
And he wondered why he felt like he was cheating on Naomi.
21
Once Rachel had hated the bakery and the tearooms, seeing them as a prison from which she couldn’t escape. Mother was the warden and the daily baking was a punishment, but now Rachel was ready to go earlier than ever and she had so much energy and so many ideas.
Now the bakery opened at eight in the morning and the tearooms at ten, because Clara and Henry said people wanted morning tea and an early lunch and they were right. It was only half past nine and the bakery was humming with customers wanting their fill of Rachel’s baked items.
Today she had filled the glass cabinet with fondant fancies iced like a deck of major arcana Tarot cards that Tassie McIver had left for her, thinking she might like them.
Rachel didn’t understand the cards but she liked the drawings on them: the Sun, the Moon, the Lovers, Justice, The Chariot.
It was fun to ice them when she was awake before the sun was up. Joe called in with some lovely lambs’ kidneys and she showed him her work.
‘That’s very clever – you could be an artist,’ he said seriously. He looked at Rachel as though she truly was an artist and she knew she blushed at his words.
It had been so long since Rachel had received a compliment she wasn’t sure what to say but somewhere she remembered Tassie McIver telling her years before to not brush away good energy and to say thank you because if you disagreed with the person, they might think you think them stupid.
Rachel had said thank you and had given him the fancy with The World iced on the front, which he was very chuffed about. He seemed to turn red as he looked at it closely.
‘She’s naked,’ he said almost to himself.
Rachel hadn’t meant anything by giving him the one with the naked woman on the front but she wondered if she should have given him The Fool instead but that would be taken the wrong way also.
‘I remember at school you were always good at art and things like that,’ he said, and she noticed a blush on his thick neck.
‘You remember me from school?’
Joe had been kind to her but then it seemed Joe was kind to everyone. He always said ‘Hi’, and always opened the door if they arrived at the same time at school.
‘I do. I remember you very well.’
Rachel frowned. ‘You’ve been coming here for years. Why didn’t you say anything before?’
‘Your mum didn’t make it much of a social visit,’ he said wryly.
Rachel nodded slowly, thinking of all the times her mother
