Page 5 of The Knitting Club at Wagtail Ridge

‘Rubbish. It’s never too early. And today is not the day for herbal tea. So—are we celebrating or commiserating?’ Nan delivered the spiked coffee and sank into the armchair opposite Bree, her many necklaces clinking as she did.

‘Definitely celebrating.’ Bree wrapped her fingers around the mug. It did smell good.

‘Excellent. Tell all.’

Bree recounted the events of the meeting. ‘It could have been a lot worse. I think Father saw that I wasn’t fooling around. I sometimes think he would have been quite happy with a very different life if he hadn’t married my mother.’

‘Meeting your father was good for your mother. However driven she is now, she was much worse before he came along. I think when she started arguing in court, she tried too hard to hide any “female” emotion in a man’s world. She never really found it again when she got home at the end of the day. In their own way, your parents care deeply for each other. And for you. Of course, she’s always seen me as a dithering fool.’

‘Nan!’

‘Oh, it’s all right, Bree. I know she was embarrassed by her unconventional mother. She never understood what someone like your grandfather saw in me.’

Bree heard the sadness in Nan’s voice. After all these years, she still missed the man she had loved for half a century. ‘I understand.’

Nan smiled. ‘Just as I understand why you’ve taken this decision. So, what’s next?’

With that simple question, the enormity of her decision hit Bree like a hammer. She caught her breath and her heart pounded. ‘Oh, Nan. What have I done? I’ve quit and I don’t have a next step. I have a handful of alpacas that require money to pay for their board and keep. One of them is expecting twins, so that’ll mean huge vet fees. I say I want to breed alpacas, but I don’t own a farm. What am I going to do? Keep them in my flat?’

To Bree’s surprise, Rose chuckled. She felt a flare of indignation, then she too started to laugh.

‘That’s what I’ve been waiting for,’ Nan said. ‘All right, it’s time you went to work. Your new work. What’s your first priority? Finding a farm or whatever?’

‘I … I guess so.’

‘Well, then, time to consult Google.’

CHAPTER

3

One more sale. A good one. That was all he was asking for.

Matt leaned back in his chair and sighed. Winter was just around the corner and that was always a quiet time for a real estate agent. Not that autumn had been busy. Or summer either. Wagtail Ridge had seemed a little more prosperous this year; the mobile library was running again and there were more people around the town on library days, buying groceries and having a drink at the pub, stopping by the farm supplies store. But library visitors didn’t come to his office. No-one bought a property on a whim.

He looked around the room. It seemed … not dingy as such, but not appealing either. The small wooden building on the town’s main street needed a coat of paint, inside and out. And some smarter furniture. That might attract a few more customers. He did have a couple of nice rural properties on his books. Not huge places, to be sure, but suitable for small breeders. Or hobbyists. All the bigger property sales went to the large national brokers these days. If only he could get one more even halfway decent sale in the next couple of months, he and Vicki would manage for another year. There wouldn’t be money for any luxuries, but they could stay in this place they loved, holding tight to the memories it contained.

He reached for his mouse and, with a click, the accounting spreadsheet vanished and the photo that brought him so much joy and all his sorrow filled the screen. The two people he loved most in the world smiled at him from a sunny spring day, years ago.

‘It hasn’t been the best year, Kim. Vicki and I—we’re managing, but only just.’ He reached out a hand, his fingers hovering a hair’s breadth from the face of the dark-haired woman, who was holding a child in her arms. ‘I miss you. I miss having you to help with the book-keeping. And you were always better than me with the clients. I miss the way you winked at me when you knew we had a sale. I miss your optimism—’ His voice broke.

After nearly two years, he should be able to think about Kim without tears. Sometimes he did. But there were other times when the loss was overwhelming and he lay alone in the bed they had shared, staring into the darkness. People were wrong when they said that the grief would fade with time. That the pain would be easier to bear. It wasn’t.

The sunlight streaming into the room was replaced by shadow as a figure stopped outside the glass door. His two o’clock appointment. Maybe this person was going to save him and his daughter.

Matt shook his head at the fancy and closed his laptop as the door opened and the person came in. He stood up and blinked back his unshed tears.

‘Hi. I’m Matt Ambrose.’

The figure stepped forward and Matt saw a woman with startling hair and equally startling clothes.

‘Hi. I’m Brianna Johnston. I’m afraid I’m a bit early. I do hope that’s okay.’

‘Yes, of course, Ms Johnston. That’s no problem at all. Please, take a seat.’

‘Call me Bree. Everyone does.’

As he sat down opposite her, Matt pulled his thoughts away from Kim and Vicki and focused on his client. She was here to view a property. She could be that one more sale he needed. Matt was good at his job, which was as much about reading people as it was about knowing real estate, and Bree Johnston was not the person he had expected to walk in the door to inspect a good but slightly run-down horse-breeding property. She was younger than he’d expected; probably not yet thirty. But it was more than that. Her spectacular brown hair fell in wild curls past her shoulders, almost to her waist. Her brightly coloured clothes were slightly crumpled and obviously designed for comfort rather than to impress. Peeping from beneath her flowing skirt, one of her legs was clad in a brown stocking and the other in yellow. She also seemed to have a tiny toy parrot pinned to her jacket. Her eyes, however, were arresting. Like her legs, each was a different colour, one blue and one green; they danced with intelligence and life. They were mesmerising.

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