Page 24 of Hope and Happiness in Bluebell Wood
‘You can do this, Ava,’ I murmur. ‘You’ve been here before; you can do it again.’
We walk across the gravel, and Gavin’s two Labradors bound up to greet us. ‘Hello, you two,’ I say to them. ‘Do you want to go and play, Merlin?’ I ask, perfectly happy for him to stick with me if he wants to; there’s no reason he has to go and socialise with other dogs if he doesn’t want. But of course, unlike me, Merlin loves company, and his tail wags super hard as he waits for me to unclip his lead; then, keen as mustard, he races off to play with the other dogs.
There are a few people wandering around the shop as I enter and a couple already by the till, so I pick up a basket and head straight to the section Gavin showed me on my first visit.
I find the particular brand of mixed bird food my birds seem to prefer and I pick up a couple of bags, then I get some more mealworms, and some peanuts – I’ve continued to chop them up in Evelyn’s food processor because the birds seem much keener to take them this way. I also get some sunflower seeds and a packet of food specially designed to attract blue and great tits. Then I head across to the dog section and pick up a few dog biscuits and a treat for Merlin. I knew I was spoiling both the birds and my dog, but I was on my own now, who else did I have to spoil?
I think about Hannah and Matt and how every time we’d go shopping when they were small, they’d persuade me to buy them a small toy or some sweets.
They’d both called me frequently since I’d been here, checking to see if I was okay and wasn’t getting too lonely all on my own, and I’d assured them both that I was absolutely fine, and I was enjoying all this time to myself. Which was partly true: I was. But I was starting to feel a little lonely, which I was having a hard time understanding after yearning for solitude for so long.
I take my basket to the till, and wait patiently in the short line that has formed in front of me. But there seems to be a bit of a delay at the counter while some gossiping takes place.
‘ . . . so I said to him, “If you don’t do something about that tree overhanging my garden boundary then I’ll chop it down myself!” You wouldn’t stand for that nonsense, would you, Father Finch?’ a small, rounded woman demands.
‘Er . . . well, it’s not for me to say really.’ I recognise the softly spoken voice from my telephone call to the vicarage, and I realise that the tall young man with brown curly hair standing in front of me must be the deacon that Callum had spoken about.
‘I know, but it’s blocking out all my sunlight, damn monstrosity. Oh, pardon my language, Father.’
‘Please, Mrs Bunting, it’s Jonah.’
But Mrs Bunting doesn’t seem happy with such familiarity.
‘You and Father Crawford keep the vicarage garden looking lovely, you do. No overhanging trees there. It’s as neat as a new pin.’
‘Well, thank you; it’s kind of you to say.’ Jonah glances behind him to see who they might be delaying with this chatter. He smiles at me apologetically.
‘As lovely as it is to chat to you, Mrs Bunting, I think we might be holding up people who want to pay.’
Mrs Bunting looks to see who he means.
‘Oops, so we are! Sorry, my love!’ she calls to me. ‘It’s Father Finch here, he just won’t stop talking!’
Jonah gives me a rueful smile.
‘Why don’t you go on in front of us?’ Mrs Bunting suggests. ‘I’m in no hurry; are you, Father?’
Jonah looks like he might be, but is too polite to say.
‘Oh no, it’s fine,’ I protest, not wanting to make a fuss. ‘I don’t mind waiting, honestly.’
‘Hello again!’ Gavin waves from the shop counter. ‘You decided to come back, then – used all your bird food up yet?’
‘Yes, almost,’ I say, my cheeks flushing as everyone looks at me now. Jonah and Mrs Bunting stand aside, so I have no choice but to move forward into the space they’ve left for me.
‘This lady has moved into Evelyn’s cottage,’ Gavin says, taking my basket from me.
‘Oh really?’ Mrs Bunting says with great interest. ‘I heard someone new had moved in. We haven’t seen you around the village much, have we?’
‘Er . . . no. Not really,’ I say, feeling very uncomfortable now everyone’s eyes are upon me. ‘When I go out it’s mainly to take my dog for walks in the wood,’ I say, hoping this will be sufficient explanation.
Gavin glances out of the window behind him. ‘And there he is, having a fine time in the yard with my two again.’
‘Is it just you in the cottage?’ Mrs Bunting enquires. ‘No family?’
‘Mrs Bunting,’ Jonah protests, ‘I really don’t think that’s any of our business, now, is it?’
‘It’s fine,’ I tell Jonah. ‘Yes, it’s just me,’ I answer Mrs Bunting. ‘My two children are all grown up now.’
