Page 27 of Secrets of Starshine
“Where’s your other son, James?” I ask, putting a bit more salad onto my plate to cancel out the carbs and calories in the pasta – because that’s how it works, isn’t it?
“Oh, he’s round at Miranda’s, and later he’s going to drive to Weymouth and pick the others up.”
“Right. And is he the…is he Miranda’s, umm…”
“Are you trying to ask if he’s the baby-daddy?”
“I suppose I am, yes.”
“Well no, he’s not actually. He’s been away at uni in London, and only came home in October. They get on well, and I think he needs somewhere to escape to…I suspect he’ll be off again as soon as he figures out what to do next, but it’s nice to have him home, even if it’s just for a while.”
I digest this information, and can imagine that a young man in his early twenties might not find Starshine Cove the peak of excitement. It has its charms, but it’s not London, that’s for sure. I’m loving it here, but there may well come a stage where I yearn for a place that offers a full list of Deliveroo options and black cabs you can hail on the street.
“Archie here used to live in London,” George adds, saying the word “London” as though it’s some exotic locale frequented only by carnival freaks. I look at Archie, with his beard and his hair and the chunky fisherman-style jumper he’s wearing, and find it hard to imagine. But this is just one version of Archie, and I know there have been others before.
“This is true,” he says, putting down his knife and fork and leaning back in his chair. “Once I left Liverpool, I moved down to London to train, and stayed there for…well, a long time.”
“What did you do?” I ask. “What were you training to be?”
“I was a lawyer,” he answers, shrugging. It is really not what I expected, and I suppose my face must reflect that.
“It was a long time ago,” he continues. “Corporate law, which is about as thrilling as it sounds. But it was a fun time in my life – young, living in the big city. Single and making the most of it. And then by a quirk of fate, a friend persuaded a group of us to come and spend Christmas in Dorset, where we proceeded to be bored rigid. We ended up buying tickets for the panto, the local am-dram version. It wasCinderella.”
“And that,” Meg announces brightly, “was our mummy!”
Everyone smiles at her, and I realise that this is part of their family legend – that Sandy might not be here, but in some ways she will be immortal. Forever remembered in their mythology. It’s actually rather beautiful.
“I bet she was fantastic,” I say to Meg and Lilly, who both nod vigorously, as though they were actually there to witness her triumph.
“And are you still a lawyer?” I ask, frowning. That really does not compute – but then again, this time a month ago, the idea of my own mother playing golf in Scotland with her lover would have seemed strange too. No, actually, now I come to think about it, it still does.
He laughs, and points at himself, and says: “Looking like this? Lord no! I carried on for a while, but my heart wasn’t in it – my heart was very much elsewhere, and I was leaving the city every weekend to come here. It wasn’t the kind of job you could do without putting in a lot of hours, and it got to the stage where I had to make some choices. So, I moved here, and started doing something I’d always loved doing – gardening.”
“Really?” I ask, even more surprised. “You went from conveyancing to cutting grass?”
“I did,” he says firmly. “I grew up in the countryside, and my parents were both keen gardeners. I grew up eating home-grown veg and fruit, planting and sowing and reaping, and I missed it when I was in Liverpool, then London. Here, it started as a hobby while I tried to figure out what to do once my savings ran out. Eventually, it expanded, and you see before you now the Head Gardener for the whole of Starshine Cove. I should add, though, before you get too star-struck, that I’m also the only gardener…”
“Archie’s doing himself a disservice,” adds George, sneaking a bit of bread beneath the table for Lottie. “When he first got here, he started doing the gardens as a favour – a lot of the people here are old.”
I bite back a smile at that one – George himself is eighty-seven – and he continues, “So, he began by going around and helping them sort their gardens out, and then he started doing some planting around the café, and eventually, we just decided to make it official.”
“Oh, right,” I say, “like, you work for the council?”
“No, I work for Starshine Cove,” Archie answers. “There’s a kind of system here.”
Lilly and Meg briefly interrupt and ask if they can go and watch TV, and are told yes, and Connie carries on the tale. “So, quite a few of us here have been very lucky – financially and professionally at least. I do fine, the Betties are a lot more well-known than you’d think from meeting them, and we also have an artist, some high-level finance people, that kind of thing. And basically, those who can afford to pay a kind of tithe to the village council, and that funds the hall, the activities, a few employees.”
“That’s great,” I say, “like a bit of a collective?”
“Exactly,” Connie replies. “Tiramisu?”
The two words make no sense together, but I soon get the picture, and nod enthusiastically. She disappears into the kitchen again and returns with dessert. I feel slightly inebriated just from the smell of it. While she dishes it up, passing ice cream to the girls instead, I turn over the seeds of an idea in my mind.
As she passes me my plate, I say: “You know, I was thinking about what Ella said the first night I was here, about people not being able to get to a hairdresser. Everyone here has been so kind to us, and I know you have this big Christmas lunch planned, so I was wondering if anyone would fancy a little visit? I could do a few trims, a few blow-dries, nothing elaborate – just a bit of extra fun for Christmas, as a thank you from me and Sam?”
Connie’s hands fly to her unruly blonde curls, and her blue eyes widen. I wonder for a moment if I’ve somehow said something inappropriate.
“Oh goodness!” she says, her voice breathy. “That would be amazing! I could set you up at the village hall…and maybe drive you to a couple of ladies who live on the hill…are you sure you wouldn’t mind? Don’t you have better things to be doing on Christmas Eve?”
