‘What should I do, George? Should I stay here, move into Rose Cottage and try to make a go of things or book the next train back to London?’
My question broke his frenzied attack on the slab of cake in front of him. He sighed and looked up at me with those huge brown eyes of his.
‘Luce, I learned long ago that I can’t tell you what to do. If it was me and I’d inherited a gorgeous house in this part of the country, I’d jump at the chance to live there rather than in a shoebox in Kentish Town. But from what I’ve gathered, it’s not as simple as all that, is it?’
I shook my head. ‘I wish it was, it’d be a no-brainer then.’
He reached his hands across the table and linked our fingers together, gently caressing the backs of my hands with his thumbs.
‘You know I only want you to be happy, don’t you? Tell me what happened here all those years ago and we’ll see if we can put it right. Then your choice will be loads easier, won’t it?’
‘I can’t.’ My voice was small and meek, like all the life and colour had been drained from it. ‘I just can’t George, you’ll hate me if I do.’ Then I registered the look on his face. ‘Is there something you want to tell me?’
‘Nothing that can’t wait. Luce, every time I’ve tried to talk to you about your past you shut me down. I kept saying to myself you must have a good reason for doing that, but I think it’s time you stopped running away from it. If you tell me what’s going on, maybe I can help you. That way, you can decide whether you’re staying here or coming back to London.’
He looked at me, his eyes pleading with me to share my secrets with him. I looked back at him, my mouth forming words I knew I couldn’t say. I felt terrible that I couldn’t tell him what had happened, but it was too awful. I’d valued his friendship over the last two years and letting him in on my dark little secret would spoil everything.
‘You know the drill,’ I replied, ‘no talking about the past. So come on, what do you want to tell me?’
He sighed, knowing he’d been defeated, and his eyes dropped to the white wooden table we were sitting at.
‘I’ve been putting off telling you this, but a couple of guys I met doing Jesus Christ Superstar asked if I fancied taking the spare room at their place in Lewisham. I haven’t given them an answer yet because I don’t know what the situation is with you. If you’re coming back then we’ll find a way to keep the flat in Kentish Town, but if you’re not I need some kind of back-up plan.’
My heart sank to my shoes and I felt like the worst person in the world. I tried to pull my hands away but George wouldn’t let go.
‘My to-ing and fro-ing isn’t doing anyone any favours is it?’ I asked with a sad sigh.
I hated the thought of George being in limbo while I was still trying to figure out my life. The decision was simple: I could either stay here or go back to London. Although there were many obstacles in my way, I couldn’t deny that staying in Luna Bay excited me. Yet I couldn’t quite make the leap to commit to staying.
‘I just need to know where I stand, that’s all. I know this won’t be an easy decision for you. Maybe you could see about going to one of the meetings? That way, you can meet the members and see if you could handle it.’
I couldn’t bear the thought of not living with George any more. He’d been my flatmate for almost two amazing years in London and not having him around would create a huge void in my life that I wasn’t sure I could fill, but I couldn’t leave him hanging.
Just then, a group of very familiar people shuffled through the front door and made their way to the back of the room, disappearing behind a gingham-print curtain. Diane, the café’s owner, took her apron off and prepared to follow suit. The smattering of customers still in the café took that as their cue to leave.
‘Come on, I think it’s chucking-out time now.’ George got up and stretched his lithe dancer’s muscles. ‘We could go down to the cottage if you like, see if we can find anything else out about this Broken Hearts Book Club?’
I hushed him as I heard some muffled voices coming from behind the curtain.
‘I think that might be them,’ I whispered. ‘The book club.’
The old floorboards creaked when I stepped on them and I winced. Being discovered snooping on a private meeting of broken-hearted people wouldn’t do my reputation in Luna Bay any good.
‘You go,’ I said to George. ‘I’ll be along in a minute; I’m just going to check this meeting out. I’ll meet you back at the pub.’
George nodded and left as quietly as possible. I left my plate of Victoria sponge on the table and hot-footed it towards the toilets as fast as I could. Diane didn’t look pleased to see I wasn’t ready to leave yet.
‘Be quick, we’re just about to close!’
‘I won’t be a second, I promise!’ I smiled at her but she didn’t return it.
I scurried to the toilets, hoping Diane would forget I was there and head on through to the meeting. It would be a perfect chance for me to see what this mysterious book club was really all about.
When I came out of the toilet, Diane was nowhere to be seen, the lights in the main café were out and I was completely alone. Suddenly, someone speaking made me jump and I remembered why I was there: to get a glimpse into the Broken Hearts Book Club.
‘Right, welcome to this Luna Bay Broken Hearts Book Club meeting. How are we all tonight?’ Diane’s kind voice was instantly recognisable.
The other people at the table mumbled indistinct replies that I couldn’t quite make out. I decided to edge myself closer to see if I could learn more about this mysterious club I’d inherited.
‘OK, this is our first meeting since Lily died so things will be a bit strange. We don’t have a new chairperson yet, so we’ll just have to muddle through as best we can.’
Diane’s voice was tinged with sadness; it was obvious Nana Lily had meant a great deal to her. It made me smile to think of other people loving her as much as I did.
She patted her sandy blonde curls down and addressed the group with an uncertain smile. ‘Let’s start by going round the table and saying how we’re all coping this week. I’ll start. It would’ve been Derek’s sixty-sixth birthday on Tuesday, so I went to the cemetery and spent some time with him. I told him what had been happening with the cricket team, this place and that his stool’s still vacant at The Purple Partridge. My daughter phoned from London to see if I was OK; I lied and said everything was fine. Ended up crying most of the night and listening to Always on My Mind. We danced to that at our wedding…’
She trailed off as tears overcame her. A rosy-cheeked woman sitting on her left hand side patted her shoulder and handed her a tissue from her bag. I recognised her from the photo I’d found of the book club, but hadn’t seen her before that; she must’ve moved to the village after I left.
‘I guess I’m next!’ she said with a nervous chuckle. From my limited viewpoint, I saw her cheeks pink up even more. ‘Well, I had a good week actually. Obviously, I still miss Rebecca every day, but I finally feel like things are getting easier. I-I even managed to pay a visit to the hospice to say thank you to all the nurses who looked after her at the end. I tried before, just after she died, but the memories were just too painful. John was going to come with me, but he isn’t ready yet… He still can’t accept that she’s gone and that he couldn’t save her.’
There were murmurs of support from the rest of the group, along with suggestions that John should come along to the next meeting. The woman shook her head and dropped her gaze to her lap, saying that he ‘didn’t believe in facing his grief’.
I