*
When Clara arrived, Rachel was serving in the bakery. Clara nearly didn’t recognise her with a new haircut but it suited her so much. It was shorter and with layers that made her fine hair seem thicker, and showed off her lovely neck. It was so different that Clara felt her mouth drop open in surprise.
‘You hate my hair,’ Rachel stated, and touched it somewhat self-consciously.
‘Not at all actually. It looks amazing. When did you get it done?’
‘Yesterday,’ said Rachel as she let Clara through the back door and showed her through the kitchen to the washing machine and dryer.
‘I just wanted a change.’
Clara smiled at her. ‘It’s a lovely change. Really suits you.’
Rachel flushed pink with pleasure. ‘Thank you.’
‘You don’t mind if I do some washing? I need a machine and Henry has to put taps in or something before I can get one.’
‘Help yourself,’ said Rachel as the bell on the door of the bakery rang and she rushed off to serve the customers.
Clara put on the first load of washing and went into the bakery where she saw Rachel buzzing around and customers waiting.
People were coming in the door and sitting at the tables. Clara saw how flustered Rachel was becoming as she tried to serve, use the till, bag items up and get to the people at the tables.
She looked around and saw an apron hanging on a hook. She pulled it on and tied it up behind her waist and stepped out next to Rachel.
‘I’ll do the tables; you do the serving here at the counter.’
Rachel looked up at her. ‘Oh gosh, thank you. It’s never been this busy. Joe’s sister Alice is going to help me but she can’t start till tomorrow.’
‘It’s okay, I’m here,’ said Clara and she moved from table to table taking the orders for the coconut sponge, or the coffee cake, or the steak and kidney pies with chutney.
It was busy in the tearooms and bakery but while Clara worked, chatting to customers, helping Rachel behind the counter and warming up pies and serving generous slices of cake, she stopped thinking about anything else but work. She missed talking to people, she missed the business and she wondered if she could live in the cottage with no company and no real work besides the house and whatever she made of the garden.
After the final customer left, Rachel and Clara sat at one of the tables, eating the last pie and piece of coffee cake.
‘Thank you for helping me today,’ said Rachel, and she slid over a fifty-pound note.
Clara slid it back over the table. ‘It was fun and it was interesting, but I don’t need the money. Save it for Alice.’
‘I know, but Mother always said we never needed help before so I’m unsure of the procedures.’
‘I don’t think your mother ever saw the place as busy as it was today. Hiring someone is good and it will help Alice and help you.’
Rachel was silent and Clara cleared her throat before speaking.
‘The hospital rang me this morning about your mum.’
Rachel stayed silent.
‘They said you haven’t seen her yet.’
Rachel toyed with the fork on her plate.
‘I don’t judge you for not wanting to see her, Rachel, but you will have to make a decision about this, because she will return here eventually unless you make some hard decisions.’
Rachel looked up at Clara; her eyes were wide and her face pale.
‘I can’t see her again. This time without her has been lovely. I hate her but no one will understand. You’re not supposed to hate your parents but I do. I hate her with everything I am. I wished she’d died the night she felt down the stairs.’
Clara took Rachel’s thin hand in hers. ‘I understand and I don’t judge you. Just because she’s your mother doesn’t mean she was good enough for you to love unconditionally.’
Rachel frowned and pulled her hand away. ‘I don’t want to see her again.’
‘I understand.’
‘How? How can you understand?’ Rachel glared at Clara.
‘Because I had a father I hated. I hated him so much and it changed who I was. It changed me and I don’t want you to have that pain.’
They were silent for a while.
‘So, what do you want to do about your mum?’ Clara asked.
‘I don’t know, I can’t think about it. I have to clean up and get the orders in to Joe for the meat tomorrow. I was thinking of making a curry pie. That would be popular, don’t you think?’
Clara could see a faraway look in Rachel’s eyes. She knew that look. It was the look of disassociating from the situation. It was too much for Rachel to think about and Clara understood that pain. She finished another load of washing and drying, and helped Rachel clean up, sweeping and mopping the floor. There was only one thing to do: she would go and visit Mrs Brown and see if she couldn’t solve this whole mess herself.
24
Rachel had spent years trying to understand her mother’s hatred of her. It didn’t matter what she did, it was wrong in her mother’s eyes, and eventually Rachel drew further into herself until she felt like a little turtle, peeking out for signs of danger and then hiding away when her mother was around.
But if you stayed hidden long enough, you forgot how to be in the world. You forgot how to make conversation, or even the sound of your own voice. If it wasn’t for the shop, Rachel would never have spoken to anyone besides her mother.
She couldn’t remember having friends when she was at school, but she also couldn’t remember being bullied or shunned. She was mostly overlooked in life, a shadow of a girl who should have been going
