The Broken Hearts Book Club (13 page)

Elle, George and I decided to make a start in the living room, since it didn’t have any gaping holes anywhere. I selected a warm butter-yellow to slap onto the bare white walls and we quickly got started.

‘Painting’s quite relaxing isn’t it?’ Elle said. ‘When I was in Morocco, I did some painting and decorating at a friend’s apartment. Reckon I should become an interior designer?’

I grinned. ‘A few days ago, you wanted to own your own jewellery business. What’s made you change your mind?’

Silence.

‘Earth to Elle Nicholls!’ I playfully flicked some paint at her.

‘Oh sorry!’ She ran a hand through her hair and looked like she’d just snapped out of a deep thought. ‘Oh you know, I just want to try loads of different things that’s all! Jewellery maker, interior designer, queen of the universe…!’

‘Well for what it’s worth,’ George took his headphones off to join in the girl talk for once, ‘I think you’d be great at whatever you decide to do.’

There was a lingering gaze between the two of them before they got back to painting.

‘Have you got anyone to fix the ceiling in the kitchen yet?’ he asked.

I shook my head and felt like throttling him. He’d just had an ideal opportunity to ask Elle out or move things forward somehow, and he’d chosen to ask about the money pit that was Rose Cottage.

‘No,’ I replied, ‘Jake said he’d come and take a look at it, but he hasn’t yet. I’ll probably have to get a professional in anyway, to see if there’s any structural damage. That’ll be more money I don’t have!’

I stopped painting for a minute and took a step back to look at what lay ahead for me. Slapping some paint on the walls wasn’t going to bring this place up to scratch. It needed time, love, care and most importantly, money. My pretty bare savings account wouldn’t even cover half of the work that needed doing. But as I looked around at the half-painted living room, I knew I had to keep going. I had to make Rose Cottage come alive again.

‘Well if you need any help at all, count me in,’ Elle said as she continued to paint the wall next to the French doors. ‘Hey, you could be the first client for my interior design business!’

‘I’m a dab hand with a paintbrush too!’ George playfully flicked some paint at her and she retaliated. This sparked a full-on paint war and they ended up chasing each other into the kitchen.

I peeked round the door and watched them laugh together as they covered each other in flecks of lemon paint. Since they’d first set eyes on each other, I’d known there was something between them. A gentle nudge in the right direction and they’d get there. I’d make sure of it.

The night of the second Broken Hearts Book Club meeting came around far too quickly for my liking. As I waited for seven o’clock to come, I had four freak-outs, lost my copy of
The Book Thief
and contemplated skipping the country.

‘Will you calm down?’ George laughed as he watched me pace up and down the living room at my mum and dad’s. ‘You’ll be fine, what’s the worst that can happen?’

I looked at him and he put up his hands in defeat, muttering ‘Fair point. It’s you we’re talking about.’

‘What are you up to tonight anyway? Besides getting on my nerves that is.’ I shot him a smile to let him know I was joking.

‘I’m gonna buy a takeaway, wine and DVD for me and Elle and see what occurs.’

I sighed and started pacing again. Much as I loved that my two best friends were getting together, I was too worried about the meeting to really get excited for them.

‘I brought a bloody piñata to the last meeting George! I mean, what was I thinking, just storming in there and forcing my ideas on them! If this meeting doesn’t go well, I may as well kiss goodbye to the club, Rose Cottage and my life in Luna Bay. They’re holding a vote in a couple of months’ time to see whether I can stay, so I need to do my best at this.’

I sank down onto the sofa and he put a comforting arm round my shoulder. ‘As long as you don’t turn up with a ball pool and some sumo wrestling costumes, you’re laughing. You tried something and it didn’t work out, so you’re going back to basics. This meeting will be fine and they’ll see how awesome you really are.’

I managed a weak, sickly smile. ‘Do you think it might help if I sing out sections of the book?’

He pretended to mull it over for a second, before settling on ‘Nah, probably not.’

I went over early to The Purple Partridge to set up the meeting. Strangely, there was no sign of Jake when I got there, so I began grabbing chairs from the large stacks in the back room and laying them out around the table.

‘Nice to see you’re prepared.’ Diane’s voice behind me made me jump.

‘I’m just getting the room ready, that’s all.’

I gave as bright a smile as I could muster, but something about her terrified the life out of me. I wasn’t sure if it was her keen dark eyes or the feeling that she was sitting in judgement on me, but something about her felt off. Especially when she was being nice. I wondered if she’d somehow managed to find out about Nana Lily’s will, but reminded myself that was impossible. Only a handful of people knew and none of them were likely to tell Diane.

‘Do you need any help?’ She took a seat at the table and looked at me with a faint smile.

‘Nope, I’ve got it thanks.’ I heaved the last chair off the stack and into position.

Her constant gazing at me made me feel uncomfortable and I preferred to walk around the room rather than sit down.

‘Any surprises for us tonight? Only the last meeting was quite eventful.’

I managed a small laugh. ‘Just business as usual, I’m afraid. Except for the change of venue, that is. Are you sure you’re OK with not having it at the café?’

She put her hands up, palms forward. ‘I’m not the chairwoman here. That’s
your
job now, so it’s your call.’

Her voice was calm, eerily so. From her face and body language, I couldn’t work out if she was telling me what I wanted to hear, trying to hide something from me or actually starting to accept me. Like so many times, only time would tell.

Once the members all arrived, the meeting got underway. First, we all reported on what kind of a week we’d had.

Frank had had the worst one out of the lot of us. He couldn’t stop looking at photos of Harriet, particularly ones from before her Alzheimer’s had taken over.

‘I sometimes feel like I’ve lost two people,’ he said. ‘My wife and the person she became after she was diagnosed. She was so… so different towards the end. Sometimes there would be these amazing moments of clarity; once she even remembered our wedding day and she hadn’t been able to recall that for months. Then other days, she wouldn’t even know my name. It was hard not to mourn the loss of the person she used to be.’

Jean started to cry and I could tell Cath and Denise wanted to as well. Everything from Frank’s voice to the look in his eyes revealed how much he missed Harriet. He’d brought in some of the photos he’d been looking at and passed them around the group. It was plain to see how beautiful she’d been; some were of her as a young woman with long wavy hair and wearing tea dresses, while others were of her surrounded by family and beaming with pride. I looked at Frank and could tell how happy he was that we were sharing in her beauty.

Denise had had what would’ve been Rebecca’s nineteenth birthday to contend with. As predicted, it hadn’t been an easy occasion.

‘John didn’t want to deal with it at all and went to the football with his mates. I went to the cemetery and sat with her for a while, telling her what had been happening. Sometimes when I’m really low, I wonder what she’d think of me now if she could see me. My life basically ended the day hers did; I’ve just existed ever since. She’d probably laugh and say “come on old woman, get your act together!”’ She stared down at her hands for a moment, as though she didn’t trust herself to look at us without falling apart. ‘Before she died, I promised her that I wouldn’t let things slide, that I’d keep living because she couldn’t. I feel like I’ve let her down.’

Diane patted her shoulder and nodded sympathetically. ‘If she could see you now – and I firmly believe she can – I’m sure she’d be really proud of you.’

‘She wouldn’t!’ Denise wailed. ‘When she was in the hospice, I told her all these daft things I wanted to do: skydive, travel to India, write a book. She told me to get off my arse and do them, but I haven’t. It’s been nearly a year and I’ve accomplished nothing.’

‘Nonsense, you’ve been grieving,’ said Diane. ‘Nobody could expect you to do any of those things yet.’

I opened my mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again. Although I was sat at the head of the table, supposed to be leading the meeting, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all. Here I was, tasked with helping these people who’d had terrible things happen to them and I didn’t have a clue where to start.

Cath noticed I’d been about to say something and invited me to speak.

‘Oh no, it’s nothing… R-really…’

‘Anyone’s allowed to speak in the group, aren’t they Diane?’ She shot her a sideways glance.

‘Of course. Say what you were going to say Lucy.’

I felt the weight of the whole club staring at me.
As long as I don’t sing, I’ll be fine.

‘I-I think you might be right about what Rebecca would think if she could see you now. I can’t pretend to know her, but from what you’ve told me I think she’d want you to be living your life to the full. Why don’t you do something special in her memory, like a charity skydive? You could raise money for the hospice or a cancer charity.’

The whole room was silent. I felt as though I’d said something very, very wrong and judging by the murderous look on Diane’s face, I was right.

‘This group is about trying to build people up, Lucy Harper, not tear them down! If you don’t realise that, you’re not fit to be chairwoman! Don’t listen to her Denise, Rebecca would be amazed with how well you’ve coped.’

‘Actually, that’s not a bad idea.’ Denise smiled a little through her tears. ‘I like the idea of doing something to make her proud and raise some money at the same time. Diane, thanks for trying to be nice – but Lucy’s right. Rebecca’s up there somewhere shaking her head at me because I’m not doing what I said I would do. And Lucy, thanks for being honest and not telling me what you thought I’d want to hear.’

A round of applause erupted from the table and I stared around me in wonder. My eyes met with Diane’s and I caught the sour expression on her face. Her gaze slid away from me, much like Maggie’s had at Nana Lily’s wake but this time was different. I didn’t feel like a spectre at the feast. I felt like I belonged.

We’d just finished discussing
The Book Thief
when it happened. The doors to the back room swung open and Maggie Cunningham walked in, clearly drunk and looking for a barney.

‘Hello Maggie,’ I said in as calm a voice as I could muster. It was then I noticed that everyone else looked surprised to see her, apart from Diane.

‘I invited Maggie along to the meeting to see how we do things, since she’s my best friend. I hope you don’t mind.’ A sinister smile broke across Diane’s face; she was absolutely delighted to have got one over on me.

I took a deep breath and walked over to the stack of chairs. ‘Not at all, the more the merrier. Why don’t you sit over here next to Diane?’

I squeezed past everyone, trying not to hit them on the head with the chair legs and invited Maggie to sit down, trying to suppress the urge to scream. The both of them were as white as sheets, their mouths hanging slightly open in utter shock.

‘We’re actually halfway through the meeting,’ I said, returning to my seat. ‘But you’re more than welcome to come to the next one. Why don’t you introduce yourself?’

I felt as though I was watching the whole thing from above. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t brave or calm or capable of staring adversity right in the face. I was Lucy Harper, permanent runaway and coward. Now it seemed like that was changing, and not before time.

Maggie pursed her lips, unsure of whether to take me on or not. Although she was a fan of grand gestures (throwing beer over me in the pub), I didn’t think she’d have the courage to humiliate me in front of the book club. There was no way for her to make a quick and fairly anonymous exit because I’d drawn her into the group.

‘Hello everyone.’ Her words were stiff and slightly slurred. I’d smelled vodka on her when I’d set her chair out. ‘My name’s Maggie Cunningham and I’ve lived in Luna Bay my whole life. My daughter Vicky… Well you all know what happened to her and I’d rather not rake over it all again. I’ve never really got over it and I want to join the book club to try and find a way to move on.’

I forced a smile onto my face. ‘Let’s welcome Maggie everyone.’

I declared the meeting finished, set our next read –
The Rosie Project
by Graeme Simsion – and the members slowly began filtering out into the pleasant spring evening.

All, that is, except Diane.

‘Can I have a word with you?’ I asked as I stacked the last remaining chair.

We went to the far corner of the room so we wouldn’t be heard and I had to stop myself from tearing her a new one.

‘What did you think bringing Maggie Cunningham to the meeting would achieve?’

Her face remained frustratingly blank and she gave a little “who me?” shrug. ‘She expressed an interest in joining and I invited her along to a meeting. I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?’

My hands clenched and unclenched as I tried to tamp down the anger building inside me. I was a pressure cooker, liable to explode at any moment.

‘I’d have appreciated a bit of warning, given that we don’t have the best history with each other. She still holds me responsible for what happened to Vicky and you made your feelings on it perfectly clear too. It’s great we have a new member, but you should’ve told me she was coming.’

My teeth were gritted so tightly that it hurt. Keeping up a professional front as chairwoman was tough when your worst enemy was invited into the group without your knowledge.

‘Yes, you did handle it rather more calmly than I’d expected.’

I frowned, unsure of how to take that. ‘You sound disappointed.’