Page 20 of A Forever Home at Honey Bee Croft

‘And that attitude contributed to your mind going blank in the interview which meant you didn’t get the job which, in turn, confirmed your belief that you couldn’t get it. But it was actually your negative mindset that stopped you getting the job and not any lack of ability because, if they didn’t think you were capable, the outgoing manager wouldn’t have championed you and you wouldn’t have been shortlisted for interview.’

‘That all makes sense.’

‘Did you go into the interview this time around with that samenot a chancemindset?’

‘No. The HR Director’s coaching helped me, and I genuinely believed I could get the job this time.’

‘And youdidget it. What happened next with the takeover was unexpected and out of your control but your behaviour in the interview got you what you wanted and the reason you behaved in that way was because you believed. So my advice is that you think about what you’d like your future to look like and start manifesting it.’

‘How?’

‘Think about it, focus on it, send those positive thoughts and wishes out to the universe and believe that what you want can happen. I’ve got a book about it that I can lend you if you like.’

I was about to say no but it struck me that doing so would be playing into the negative mindset.

‘Okay. I’ll have a read. Manifesting sounds a bit out there, but what you said about the different approaches to my interview does resonate so I accept there’s something in it.’

Anything was worth a try as I definitely needed an injection of positivity about work. It might be fun to send my wishes out into the universe and manifest a positive outcome. Although if I was going to do that, I’d need to think about what those wishes really were. When Eloise and Jeremy said there could be redundancies, my first reaction was panic but could losing my job at the factory actually be a good thing? I’d get redundancy pay and I might even be able to negotiate a leaving date coinciding with the twins arriving and the start of the school summer holidays. I could take the pressure off Tilly by having Imogen stay with me for the summer, or at least part of it, which would give us valuable time together. I might even be able to convince her to let me take Imogen to Portugal to see my parents.

As I watched Imogen on Munchie, everything seemed so much brighter and the thought of losing my job wasn’t quite so scary.

I glanced at Amber and she gave me an encouraging smile. ‘It’s going to be fine, Joel. I know it.’

She’d saidsomething will present itselfearlier. Maybe I didn’t have to throw a wish into the universe to secure a particular job – just positive thoughts about finding the right role for me. I’d see what Amber’s book said.

And while I was trying to manifest a positive outcome for work and more time with Imogen, maybe I could manifest onefor my non-existent love life and break the curse of always being the friend, never the boyfriend. Before I met Marley, I’d tried a dating app and every single connection had friend zoned me, some after the first date, some before even getting that far. For those who did make it as far as a date, the evening always ended the same. I’d ask if they wanted to do it again and there’d be that familiar expression – the scrunch of the nose, the gentle smile, the tilt of the head – and those dreaded words.Aw, I’ve had such a lovely evening, Joel. You’re such a nice guy but I can’t see us being more than friends.I’d smile and nod in agreement, knowing that it wouldn’t even be a friendship because they’d swipe left before they got home, the connection would be severed, and I’d never see them again. But thinking about what Amber had said about my interview earlier, could always being the friend actually be my fault? Did I turn up to dates expecting to be friend zoned and therefore put myself in that box before the date could? I strongly suspected I did. I was going to make sure I didn’t leave without Amber’s book and I knew what I’d be reading tonight after Imogen went to sleep. Chez’s CBT was all about positive thoughts and it worked for him most of the time. Thinking positive thoughts and manifesting a happy future for Imogen and me – and hopefully somebody else – was going to be the way forward for me. No wallowing. No lamenting the past. Just looking forward to good times.

7

POPPY

I’d been awake for a couple of hours when my alarm sounded at half seven on Sunday morning. What a restless night. Damon’s odd behaviour yesterday had unnerved me – especially him turning up at The Larks like that – and it had taken me way longer than usual to switch off. Once sleep finally came, it brought disturbing dreams. I was trying to visit Dad at The Larks but Marnie wouldn’t let me in because his ‘son’ was already with him. When I finally managed to push past her and run to his room, Dad was lying in bed with Damon standing over him, a pillow in his hands.You’re mine, Poppy. No more distractions for you.Marnie and her team had caught up with me and held me back as Damon lowered the pillow over Dad’s face. I woke up screaming, heart pounding, tangled up in the duvet and hadn’t been able to get back to sleep.

Even though I knew Dad wasn’t in any danger, it didn’t take a genius to work out that my feelings of discomfort around Damon had been projected into that dream.

Hearing a vehicle stopping outside, I peeled back the duvet and crept to the window. Stomach churning, I pulled one of the curtains aside and parted the blinds, relief flowing through methat it was just Wilf’s daughter dropping off a box of fresh eggs from her hens like she usually did on a Sunday morning.

I showered, dressed and made myself a coffee. I usually started the day with breakfast, but my stomach still felt in knots after my unsettled night. Every noise outside had me drawn to the windows, checking to make sure Damon wasn’t there. I hated that he could make me feel this way.

Settling down at my desk for a morning of work, I checked my emails and responded to a couple of straightforward client queries about business expenses. Another client had a more complicated query about buying or renting office premises, but the figures he’d provided didn’t ring true so I clicked onto a property website to do a bit of research which made me think again about moving. Before I knew it, I’d gone down a rabbit hole of recent sales prices on similar properties in Winchcote and the neighbouring villages as well as looking at houses for sale nearer The Larks. There were a couple of newbuild estates advertising two- and three-bedroom houses with a garage and small garden, but I closed the site down, shaking my head. If I did move, I didn’t want to be surrounded by other houses. I wanted an edge-of-the-village location like Dove Cottage or even somewhere remote. I loved the peace and quiet at Saltersbeck Farm – a place I could relax, think, breathe. A place where I could just be.

I needed to focus back on my work so I made another coffee, closed all distracting tabs on my computer and cracked on with my tasks, only allowing myself a short break to heat up some soup for lunch.

Dad’s birthday party was planned for 3p.m. so I applied some light make-up and changed into a dress and boots. My naturally wavy dark hair had air-dried into soft waves, so all it needed was a quick comb and I was ready.

I cautiously opened the front door a little later but there was no sign of Damon. Maybe he’d got the message and I was building this up into something bigger than it was but, as I left the village, my stomach tightened. Damon knew it was Dad’s birthday today. Might he turn up, despite my insistence that he didn’t?

When I arrived at The Larks, I did a complete loop of the car park to make sure Damon’s van wasn’t there, relief flowing through me when it wasn’t. I hated that I’d felt the need to do that because of him.

I grabbed the gift bag from the passenger footwell and hastened to the entrance. A teddy bear and a box of Dad’s favourite childhood sweets – Jelly Babies – felt inadequate for such a milestone birthday but he didn’t need anything and an extravagant gift from someone he didn’t recognise would only cause upset and confusion.

Dad was at the far end of the residents’ lounge wearing a pointed blue party hat and a large badge. There were blue and silver balloon bouquets either side of him and several gifts on a table. To the left side of the room beneath someHappy Birthdaybanners was a buffet of scones and cakes either side of a birthday cake. I paused, taking in Dad’s name and one fat candle. Marnie had told me that, while they made a fuss of birthdays, they never showcased the age due to time-shifting. I understood and supported it, but choosing a generic card this year without the word ‘Dad’ on it and not even being able to replace that with an age one had hit hard. Much to the bewilderment of the sales assistant, I’d burst out crying at the till.

‘Noting the lack of candles?’ Marnie said, joining me. It was meant to be her weekend off but she’d told me she wouldn’t miss Dad’s birthday celebration for the world, which I’d found touching.

I turned and smiled weakly at her. ‘I know it’s what’s needed, but…’

‘It doesn’t sit right,’ she filled in for me when I didn’t finish the sentence.

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