Page 93 of Second Act at Appleton Green
It has been a tremendous run for me, and the last few months that I have spent with you have been the most satisfying conclusion that I could have hoped for. It really is a wonderful final act, and I thank you for coming to be with me and for being so generous, kind, caring and for treating me like an adult. So many people seem to think we reverse in age when we get older. It is so annoying to be spoken to and treated as though I can’t make my own decisions when I have been making them for over ninety years.
Lily smiled at Gran’s obstinance to the very end.
As my time winds down, memories long since buried have returned. Most of them of you. When you would sing in the garden, your voice would rise with the birds, and I would know that you were destined for something extraordinary at that very moment. Nevertheless, I never in a million years would have guessed that it would be this – not the stages of the West End, but right here in Appleton Green, where you have finally discovered your voice. Never stop singing, Lily, never stop sharing your talent with the world.
During the past few months, I have been watching you grow, Lily, and I have witnessed you mature and how you have learned to tap into yourself and find out what you wanted. When you arrived, you were disorientated, and your beautiful voice was muffled by uncertainty and anticipation. I remember that feeling. However, by taking care of me, Pippin Cottage, and then immersing yourself in the society’s show, you found your way. You found your personal purpose, which is to share. You are the most selfless person I know and people benefit from being around you. And now you are sharing it with your students at the school.
Lily wiped tears away that fell onto the paper. Gran had written this recently, in the last month. She knew she was dying. That’s what she meant when she said it was the last summer and seeing her sing one last time.
If my time with you over the years has shown you anything, I hope it’s that there is always a second act in life and the greatest applause you can get is the one you give yourself when you get through anything hard. If you’re not giving yourself a standing ovation then what does it matter?
You are proud of yourself now, Lily, and it has been a joy to watch you come into your own. I watched how your eyes light up when you talk about your students, how you come alive after a rehearsal and how you’ve opened your heart to Nick and to this community. I see all of these things. This is the real Lily Baxter; not the one who is trying to keep anyone else happy. Rather, she is the one who is trying to create her own dreams here in Appleton Green.
And I know you will be tempted back to London again, and perhaps you will try again and maybe succeed. You certainly have the talent to do well anywhere you go, but I know, deep in the marrow of these old bones, that you will always have your heart here.
For this reason, I am leaving Pippin Cottage to you. This little village has always been a safe haven for people who are searching for who they are, and finding themselves, and I know how much you adore the house. I know you want to restore the garden and in all honesty the roof in the kitchen leaks and the wallpaper is peeling behind the bookshelf, but I know you will do what you want with the home now. Don’t hang on to anything because of me; make it your own.
Lily, don’t be frightened to put down your roots in Appleton Green. Nurture them like a garden and your voice, and know that wherever you are – on stage, teaching in a classroom, or just singing to yourself in the morning while you’re making tea – I will be listening. You have done what you set out to do, my little girl, and I couldn’t be prouder of you.
Have a happy life, love sincerely, and never, ever, ever be anything other than who you are.
Thank you for everything, Lily. You were the making of me as a grandmother and I cherished every moment of our time.
With all my love,
Gran
PS: Don’t forget to give that handsome Nick a chance as well. I see the way he looks at you. It reminds me of the way Grandad used to look at me. And not to mention he does make an excellent brew, so perhaps he can move in and make you brews for as long as you both shall live.
Lily sat in silence. The wind outside was making an eerie wail and Mr Mistoffelees jumped from the windowsill and onto the back of Gran’s chair.
‘You were the making of me, Gran,’ she said to the empty chair. ‘The very best parts of me are from you and I thank you for everything I am because of you.’
There was a single crack of thunder and then the wind stopped and the cat was on the seat of Gran’s chair clawing at it until it was ready for him to sit, and Lily knew then that Gran’s spirit had left Pippin Cottage.
42
A hazy, soft rain seemed to shroud Appleton Green in a quiet solemnity on the morning of Gran’s funeral. Watching water droplets make their way down the glass of Pippin Cottage, Lily stood there unable to force herself to cry a single tear. She had cried enough, she told herself, knowing that’s what Gran would say to her.
She put her hand in the pocket of the black coat she was wearing, touching the letter from Gran. The weight of it seemed to tether her to this very time and this place. This was her house; this was her home. It had always been her home in many ways.
A soft tap on the door jolted her out of her daydream. It was Nick wearing a sombre black suit. He held out his hand and asked softly, ‘Ready?’
Lily nodded, inhaled deeply, and then put her hand in his and they walked out to the car that was waiting for them to go to the village hall.
Her parents were in the car ahead of them and when they stopped at the hall, Lily alighted and hugged her parents.
‘You ready?’ said Peter.
Lily nodded and her hand trembled a little on the door handle; then she inhaled deeply before pushing the door open and going inside.
Her breath caught when she saw what was in front of her. Jasper had surpassed expectations, converting the hall into an amazing homage to Gran. The gentle flicker of electric candles took the place of the normal harsh overhead lights, which were dimmed. There was a small classical quartet playing as people sat waiting, and there were bunches of white anemones in vases on the tables at the side of the hall, where cups and saucers were lined up with plates and forks and a selection of fresh baked goods, covered by nets, lay ready for the wake.
Lily saw that the hall was already crowded as her eyes grew accustomed to the gentle light, and as Nick walked her to their seats at the front, she saw the cast from the show lined up with their partners. There was Sheila sitting with Mrs Harris, and Mrs Douglas wiping her eyes and giving a gentle nod to Lily as she caught her eye.
The soft hum of discussion died down as people became aware of her entrance, and all eyes were instantly fixed on her. Nick gave a gentle squeeze of her hand, a sort of silent reassurance of his presence, and they found their seats at the front.
Once Lily sat down, she looked around and saw what Jasper had done. He had somehow created a tapestry of Gran’s life. Old programmes from shows, photos, and even some of her handwritten recipes covered the walls, printed onto them. There were photos of her and Gran, Gran and Peter, so much joy in her life, so many lovely memories, she thought.
