The Hopes and Dreams of Lucy Baker: The most heart-warming book you’ll read this year. Jenni Keer

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СКАЧАТЬ the older man muttered and turned to Lucy. ‘You all right, love?’

      She nodded mutely and rubbed her arm as a noise to the left made her turn. In the open doorway of the newly occupied number twenty-four stood an extremely tall, suited man. Not too shabby on the eye, with a look of self-assurance, he was enough to get any heart fluttering. A subconscious hand went to her hair. Things were looking up if this was the new neighbour. Perhaps she could forgive him for failing to warn the residents of Lancaster Road it would be blocked for most of Sunday afternoon. After all, everyone deserved a second chance.

      ‘You own a cat, mate?’ the removal man called over to the suit.

      ‘God, no. Allergic to the damn things.’

      The zooming rocket of attraction, which had shot into the sky as she’d appraised the fine figure in the doorway, floated gently back to earth like a downy white feather. His second chance evaporated, along with the initial appeal she’d mistakenly conjured up based purely on his muscular frame and a pair of serious, dark eyes.

      ‘Well, we either brought him with us up the A1, or he’s local and we nearly took him home. Shame Liam here scared the poor bugger off. Let’s hope there’s not some broken-hearted kid pining for it this evening.’

      The suit strode over to the van. He was dressed terribly formally for someone who had spent the day moving house. Perhaps she’d got it wrong and he was the estate agent.

      ‘I hope the bloody thing hasn’t left cat hair all over my mattress or I’ll be up all night sneezing and rubbing my eyes.’

      Damn. It appeared Lancaster Road was stuck with him.

      ‘I don’t think it’s from a loving home,’ ventured Lucy. ‘The poor creature was in an awful state. It looked more like a stray to me.’

      The young lad finished unstrapping the mattress from the cargo rail and shuffled it forwards. ‘You take it on then,’ said the suited man, ‘if you feel so sorry for it.’

      ‘Oh no, I can’t.’ Lucy’s eyes were wide. ‘My landlady doesn’t allow pets.’

      They stood facing each other for an awkward moment.

      ‘Right,’ he finally said. ‘So then you’re loitering at the back of the removal van because…?’

      ‘Um, I’m just waiting to get my car out,’ and she pointed to her Fiat.

      ‘We’ll be done within the hour,’ he replied, not bothering to look across at Lucy’s trapped vehicle.

      ‘Great.’ Her smile was forced and her heart sank to the bottom of her flip-flops. The Hobbycraft centre would be closed by then.

      The suit cast his eyes around the few remaining items of furniture and returned to the house, closing the front door firmly behind him.

      Manhandling the wobbly mattress down the ramp, the removal men momentarily rested it on the pavement between them. The older guy looked over to the closed door and sighed, just as another front door was flung open. They heaved it up again and walked towards the house.

      ‘Okay, what’s going on?’ asked Brenda, the elderly lady who lived between Lucy and the new arrival. ‘Honestly, Lucy, your aura is all over the place. I could sense your frustration from the pantry.’

      Not exactly a conventional pensioner, Brenda’s purple-streaked, silvery hair fell down her back in a tidy plait, and her slightly hunched body was swathed in a rainbow of cotton garments. A silver locket was swinging from her neck but she tucked it out of sight as she walked towards the road. Her sharp eyes focused on the young lad and he wriggled uncomfortably. Juggling mattress and doorknob, the pair wrestled their way into number twenty-four.

      ‘You told me you were going to the retail park this afternoon, Lucy. Have you been waiting for the van all this time?’ Brenda ran her fingers back and forth through the purple buds of lavender growing in the narrow border down her path. Lucy caught the aroma and felt calmer.

      ‘It’s not a big deal. I can pop over after work next week.’

      ‘Nonsense. It would have taken them two minutes to shift the van across and let you out. Honestly, I do believe you wouldn’t have said anything if they’d parked it in the middle of your living room.’

      The family from across the road tumbled out their sunny yellow doorway; the harassed mother clutching a baby to her hip, and the little girl giving Brenda and Lucy a cheery wave. They waved back with equal enthusiasm.

      ‘I must finish those crocheted flower brooches for the preschool fête,’ Lucy said. ‘Chloe came over with her mother last week asking for tombola prizes. I have so many scraps of wool to use up, I feel I’m killing two birds with one crochet hook.’

      Brenda chuckled. ‘She’s not easy to refuse, is she? With that cheeky grin. She’s cleared me out of blackberry and apple preserve.’

      The family piled into their people carrier and Lucy couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous at the ease with which they pulled away from the kerb and trundled into the distance. If only the stupid removal van had parked three metres further down.

      Brenda peered over the low wall as the front door to number twenty-four finally clicked shut. ‘I glimpsed our new neighbour walking past earlier – quite the stud muffin. Good enough to eat and go back for seconds.’ Her hand went to her throat and she played with the silver chain. ‘A bit of male companionship would do you the world of good, young lady. Knitting needles and assorted buttons do not a fulfilling life make.’

      ‘Oh no you don’t.’ Lucy crossed her arms and stared at her dear friend, a woman most locals considered something of an enigma, but whom Lucy adored unreservedly. It wasn’t that people didn’t like Brenda, they loved her, but she made them feel uncomfortable. They would happily stop by for one of her herbal remedies if they had a migraine coming. Or the lotion from the doctor couldn’t clear up their intimate rash. But they didn’t like to stop for tea. It didn’t taste quite right… ‘I don’t need you to start matchmaking, and I certainly don’t want you chanting incantations at midnight in a potato sack in the hope the universe shifts slightly to the right and lots of non-existent chakras align – or whatever it is you do.’ Brenda was prone to floating about and pretending to be mysterious, and Lucy happily indulged her friend. It was harmless enough and Lucy suspected Brenda was playing out an elaborate theatrical charade purely for her own amusement. ‘You’ll make me drink something from a glass vial and three days later I’ll wake up with a headache, naked in a wheat field, surrounded by journalists.’

      ‘Tish. You do talk nonsense sometimes. I’m merely an enabler. And if we search deep enough inside ourselves, it’s amazing what can be summoned from within.’ She closed her eyes, her body rising as she inhaled slowly and put out her hands, palms upward. ‘Anyway, it’s pointless to protest, because things are afoot without any intervention from me. He’s already arrived,’ Brenda said, opening her eyes and looking serious.

      ‘Yes, we know all about his arrival: three hours blocking the road without so much as a note through our doors,’ said Lucy.

      ‘Not the sexy neighbour. The cat. I had a feeling there was one on its way.’

      ‘How on earth…’ began Lucy, but she had given up trying to find answers for the mysterious things that happened СКАЧАТЬ