The Secret of Orchard Cottage: The feel-good number one bestseller. Alex Brown

      An hour or so later, as April said goodbye to Molly, she closed the front door behind her new friend and smiled to herself. She felt as though she’d known Molly her whole life, which it turned out was pretty near true, as Molly remembered cycling around Tindledale one summer as a child with the ‘girl down from London’. April couldn’t remember this exactly, it seemed so long ago, but she did have fond memories of those carefree days in the school holidays with a big group of children from the village, so it had been lovely to reminisce with Molly. A rare treat for April, as apart from Aunt Edie, there wasn’t anyone else in her life who shared those memories from years back. When she had gone to live with her grandparents, after her parents died, April had lost contact with her school friends. It was as if the rug had been pulled from under her, and she’d been left dealing with a massive thing when she should have been concentrating on exams and filling her time with reading Jackie magazine and such like. But instead the grief took over and since then she had always found it hard to connect with that period before her parents died. It was often too painful to remember the happy, good times, only for the reality of not having them in her life to then come crashing back all over again. And later, when April had finished her nurse training, she had immersed herself into working as many shifts as she could in the hospital, until she met Gray. It had been easier that way, especially after her grandparents died and she had felt so very alone.

      Yes, she had friends now, but was conscious that she had retreated into her shell again after losing Gray, and even though her friends had made such a tremendous effort to re-engage her in life since his death – taking it in turns to visit on a Saturday night with a bottle of wine and ideas for fun nights out, bowling, ice skating, cinema, etc. – she just hadn’t felt up to it. Preferring instead to curl up on the sofa in her pyjamas staring at her wedding video, and then the honeymoon weekend in Venice on the flatscreen TV. No lights on, no volume, just silence and Gray waving and pulling a silly face at the camera. It had been a comfort. But April knew it wasn’t right, she couldn’t carry on like that for ever. Even Nancy, when she returned from her nights out, wouldn’t come into the lounge, probably couldn’t bear to; instead she had crept upstairs to bed and left April alone with her memories.

      This had made April very self-conscious, often feeling whenever she left the house for essential trips, such as the bank, supermarket and such like, that everyone was looking at her, as if she had a big sign hanging around her neck that said, ‘My husband died and now I’m turning into a very sad and lonely recluse’. It was an utterly awful way to be. But slowly, it had subsided and her confidence was starting to return – just driving to Tindledale had already given her a boost, something she wouldn’t have even contemplated doing a while ago. Although, she reflected, some of those friends had drifted away … maybe it was too late and they had run out of patience already, moved on. After all, they had their own life ups and downs to deal with, so she couldn’t blame them for that. April chewed the inside of her cheek, and resolved to make more of an effort when she got back home. She’d neglected her aunt, and it wouldn’t do to neglect the few friends that she had left as well. Yes, a change of scenery sure had given her a different perspective on things. And maybe she’d go back to work, find a nursing job again – she’d thought about it on and off since Gray had died, but somehow hadn’t managed to actually put herself forward, get a plan in place and be proactive about it. It had felt, somehow, in that time, that going back to work meant the part of her life with Gray was properly over, and she hadn’t been sure she was ready for that …

      April went back into the kitchen and was pleasantly surprised to see that her aunt was laying the table for dinner. Humming to herself, Edie seemed perfectly sprightly as she nipped around the table making sure everything was just so. Knives, forks, pudding spoons, napkins and even a jug of iced water with two glasses. It was nice to see, and gave April a warm glow, a sense of having come home, belonging, just like she had felt as a child during those trips to Tindledale …

      ‘You’re just in time. Dinner won’t be long, dear. Sit down and I’ll dish up.’ Edie smiled, reaching for a very faded, holey tea towel with which to open the Aga to check on the pie. April hesitated, unsure whether to intervene or not as the tea towel really wasn’t up to the job of protecting an old lady’s hand from getting burnt. But April was conscious that she was in her aunt’s home and didn’t want to be seen as interfering – and, besides, her aunt seemed to be managing just fine, as she then flung the tea towel over her shoulder and pushed a masher into the saucepan of potatoes and started mashing, so April sat down. On second thoughts, maybe not! Hot water was splashing everywhere. April jumped up and gently took the masher from Edie as she winced when a droplet landed on her bare arm.

      ‘Oh dear. I forgot to drain the potatoes,’ Edie said, wiping her arm on her apron before clasping her hands together.

      ‘It’s OK. Easy mistake to make,’ April consoled, carefully lifting her aunt’s arm to check that she wasn’t hurt. Thankfully, she was fine. ‘How about you sit down and let me wait on you for a change? Think of me as your waitress for this evening. Dinner will be served in five minutes, Madame.’ April did a little bow and laughed, remembering the game they always played in the past when she had visited as a child. Aunt Edie would let her carefully bring the plates to the table, reminding her to use two hands, and April had felt so grown up. Sometimes, the game had started earlier with April pulling out a piece of paper from her letter-writing set on which to write a menu, and then Aunt Edie would pretend to choose her favourite dish – naturally it was always the meal that they were actually having. April wondered if her aunt would remember – probably not, it was such a long time ago – but to her delight Edie’s face broke into a smile of recollection.

      ‘Well, that would be marvellous, my dear. But aren’t you forgetting something?’ April raised an eyebrow, mentally crossing her fingers. ‘The menu? We must have a menu.’ And as if by magic, April instantly felt transported back in time. Just like the old days, before her parents died and her whole world changed, to a simpler section of her life, halcyon, where nothing bad ever happened, or so it had seemed back then. And it really was rather lovely to relive the memory … if only for a few minutes. And Aunt Edie looked calm and relaxed too, her eyes had come alive and gone all sparkly, but then there was a certain safety in the past, a comfort. April had seen it with Gray, especially towards the end when she knew he had been feeling frightened, and Aunt Edie had seemed fearful earlier too when she couldn’t remember who Harvey was. Gray had coped by cosying up with a blanket and watching all the old Monty Python shows with Nancy – something they had done together when she was a child – the pair of them nodding along to that upbeat ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’ song. Gray, with a very content smile on his face, cocooned almost in a bubble of familiarity and happy memories that this simple pastime recreated.

      ‘Coming right up!’ Keen to see if reconnecting with the past would have a positive effect on Aunt Edie, April darted off to the sitting room to retrieve her handbag – there was a notepad inside,