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You Can't Go It Alone: Sunflower, #1
Până la Jessie Cahalin
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Începeți să citiți- Editor:
- Jessie Cahalin
- Lansat:
- Oct 11, 2018
- ISBN:
- 9781540103734
- Format:
- Carte
Descriere
Love, music and secrets are woven together in this poignant, heart-warming narrative.
Set in a Welsh village, the story explores the contrast in attitudes and opportunities between different generations of women. As the characters confront their secrets and fears, they discover truths about themselves and their relationships.
The reader is invited to laugh and cry, with the characters, and find joy in the simple things in life. Listen to the music and enjoy the food, as you peek inside the world of the inhabitants of Delfryn.
Let Sophie show you that no one can go it alone. Who knows, you may find some friends with big hearts…
Praise for You Can't Go It Alone
'Novel with a warm heart'
Daisy Meadows, bestselling children's author
'An intricate, thoughtful story of real people whose life will continue long after the author has typed the end.'
Patricia Feinberg Stoner, author
'Gripping! It's a roller-coaster of a novel in which the beautiful Welsh countryside and weather take a leading role. I was gripped by these characters, and by Cahalin's fascinating touches.'
Maggie Humm, Emeritus Professor, University of East London
'Fascinating read about many of life's challenges. Recommended to men and women alike.'
John Broughton, novelist
'The author has a real feeling for character and place, and it really shines through her work. Her ideas around plot and how a story unfolds are original, and well executed, with a good balance of lightness and shade.'
Welsh Annie, Top 500 Reviewer Amazon
'Complex and vivid tapestry of a story'
Jena. C. Henry, USA blogger and reviewer
'The characters leap off the page and it is a pleasure to follow their progress.
Gail Aldwin, Chair of the Dorset Writers' Network
'Jessie Cahalin has a lovely light touch with her poetic prose.'
Judith Barrow, author
'Delightfully descriptive and evocative of the area, this is a book to be enjoyed with a glass (or two...) of wine in hand (and possibly a box of tissues on occasions) - on a balmy evening, reclining under an olive tree, if you happen to have one!'
Lizzie. C, Amazon reviewer
'Funny, tragic and full of unexpected twists and turns, this is a story with plenty to entertain and also to leave you thinking.'
Phoebe McLeod, Amazon reviewer
'The importance of communication and of speaking the truth is intertwined with each character's journey.'
Patricia Furstenberg, author
Informații despre carte
You Can't Go It Alone: Sunflower, #1
Până la Jessie Cahalin
Descriere
Love, music and secrets are woven together in this poignant, heart-warming narrative.
Set in a Welsh village, the story explores the contrast in attitudes and opportunities between different generations of women. As the characters confront their secrets and fears, they discover truths about themselves and their relationships.
The reader is invited to laugh and cry, with the characters, and find joy in the simple things in life. Listen to the music and enjoy the food, as you peek inside the world of the inhabitants of Delfryn.
Let Sophie show you that no one can go it alone. Who knows, you may find some friends with big hearts…
Praise for You Can't Go It Alone
'Novel with a warm heart'
Daisy Meadows, bestselling children's author
'An intricate, thoughtful story of real people whose life will continue long after the author has typed the end.'
Patricia Feinberg Stoner, author
'Gripping! It's a roller-coaster of a novel in which the beautiful Welsh countryside and weather take a leading role. I was gripped by these characters, and by Cahalin's fascinating touches.'
Maggie Humm, Emeritus Professor, University of East London
'Fascinating read about many of life's challenges. Recommended to men and women alike.'
John Broughton, novelist
'The author has a real feeling for character and place, and it really shines through her work. Her ideas around plot and how a story unfolds are original, and well executed, with a good balance of lightness and shade.'
Welsh Annie, Top 500 Reviewer Amazon
'Complex and vivid tapestry of a story'
Jena. C. Henry, USA blogger and reviewer
'The characters leap off the page and it is a pleasure to follow their progress.
Gail Aldwin, Chair of the Dorset Writers' Network
'Jessie Cahalin has a lovely light touch with her poetic prose.'
Judith Barrow, author
'Delightfully descriptive and evocative of the area, this is a book to be enjoyed with a glass (or two...) of wine in hand (and possibly a box of tissues on occasions) - on a balmy evening, reclining under an olive tree, if you happen to have one!'
Lizzie. C, Amazon reviewer
'Funny, tragic and full of unexpected twists and turns, this is a story with plenty to entertain and also to leave you thinking.'
Phoebe McLeod, Amazon reviewer
'The importance of communication and of speaking the truth is intertwined with each character's journey.'
Patricia Furstenberg, author
- Editor:
- Jessie Cahalin
- Lansat:
- Oct 11, 2018
- ISBN:
- 9781540103734
- Format:
- Carte
Despre autor
Legat de You Can't Go It Alone
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You Can't Go It Alone - Jessie Cahalin
grandmother
Chapter One
As Sophie looked up at the sky, its vast blueness held endless possibilities. The sun caressed her back as if to welcome her to Delfryn village. Married for three years, Sophie and Jack longed for a family. A gnarled vine framed the doorway of their new home, Vine Cottage. And a wrought iron gate, decorated with gold vine leaves, showcased the entrance to a sloping rear garden. Delfryn River rushed past at the bottom of the garden, as if to nudge the winter from a slumber. Vine Cottage, a traditional Welsh stone dwelling, sat between Delfryn Abbey and Delfryn Vineyard. An overwhelming sense of tranquillity wrapped around Sophie, as she admired the view.
Filled with hope, she banished the possibility of another failed fertility treatment. She helped Jack carry the coffee table. The removal men did the lion's share of the work, but Sophie took charge of the more delicate items of furniture. Vine Cottage, contented in its lush green surroundings, welcomed her as she stepped over the threshold. Inside, everything sparkled but she would redecorate in the summer once they settled.
That morning, she had considered a choice of outfit that would stand up to the scrutiny of the new neighbours. She wore her designer jeans, a simple black, long-sleeved Ralph Lauren top and a colourful scarf. The breeze plastered her silk scarf to her lipstick, but, encumbered as she was by the coffee table, she could do nothing about it. The bright and cheerful sunflower scarf reflected her mood.
‘Hurry, will you!’ suggested, her husband, Jack, as he caught her looking up at the sky, again. He snorted as she struggled with both the table and the scarf. ‘Why do you insist on helping? The fertility drugs are making you clumsier than the removal men.’
‘It’s better to be busy,’ she protested. 'I don't want time to think.'
‘You're pushing yourself too much,’ said Jack.
Sophie inhaled and let out a sigh. ‘And I understand you hate going through the fertility process. But I’m almost thirty, and age is significant for women. It doesn't matter if you are in your thirties.' Removal guys were close by, so she stopped herself from saying more. She hated the way the medication clouded her thoughts and changed her reactions. Last week, she overreacted when one of her pupils rolled his eyes at her challenge. Pupils looked aghast when she had screamed at them. The Easter holiday would allow her to finish the IVF cycle without having to excuse her absence at school. Magic glowed from Vine Cottage, as she rested outside in the sunshine.
‘Don’t worry, we need to focus on the positive. We’ve almost finished the treatment,’ soothed Jack.
‘The final stages are always the most difficult. I dread the waiting. I was just thinking about how much I struggled to teach last week. You’re right about me being clumsy - my head is full of cotton wool. My stomach looks like I’ve been eating too many pies.’ She lifted her top above her jeans to reveal her swollen stomach caused by the fertility drugs. Hopefully, the bloating meant the fertility drugs had stimulated more eggs thus increasing her chance of success. Yellow and blue bruises, from the injections, were also visible above the waistline.
Jack hugged her so tightly that she struggled to breathe. She rested her head on him. ‘The house looks cosy, doesn’t it? I think this place will be lucky for us? Let’s get back to work,’ said Jack.
Sophie removed the scarf from her face again and looked down at her boots. One heel jammed in the mat and she lost balance. A mud coating on the step caused her to hit her head on the antique brass door knocker. This feature appealed to her on first viewing but today it teased her. Her head throbbed with the promise of a bruise. A slight shadow floated in the back of her mind. She worried the fall might damage one of the eggs growing inside ready for the fertility treatment.
Jack held out his hand for her as he laughed. ‘Come on Laurel! Or is it Hardy? No need to fall for me again!’
Nodding, she refused Jack’s hand. ‘No chance of that, old man – once is enough.’
‘You’ll do anything to get out of making the coffee.’ Jack grabbed Sophie’s hand as she wobbled to her feet. They both laughed as they moved towards the door. Positive vibes flooded Sophie’s consciousness again until they transformed into cramping butterflies in her stomach. Thinking about the renovation helped to distract her as too much early hope always intensified any later sense of loss if the treatment failed. Her hair fell into place as she ran her fingers through the layers, then she smoothed the neat line of her hair on her neck. On her way down the pathway, she surveyed the three cottages. Vine Cottage stood proudly between two other dwellings. Rose Cottage’s weathered oak door and white, painted window frames contrasted with Dove Cottage’s new oak door and window frames.
‘Hello,’ said a child’s voice. ‘I’m Daisy, like my mummy’s favourite flower. I prefer sunflowers as they are bigger and happier. Your scarf has sunflowers on it.’ Daisy was standing in the garden of the neighbouring house.
She turned around. ‘Hello, I’m Sophie. I love sunflowers too.’
‘I live at Dove Cottage. Do you have a little girl to be my friend?’ The little girl’s curly blonde hair framed her face and fluttered as she spoke. ‘Everyone is old here. Does she love sunflowers too?’ Large brown eyes full of hope, Daisy waited for a response. She appeared about five or six years old.
She smiled at Daisy. ‘No, we don’t have a daughter. Or any children. Sorry.’
But Daisy just nodded.
A woman, about Sophie’s age, with short blonde, curly hair waited on the steps leading up to Dove Cottage. She wore a long, flowing colourful dress. Although this was not her style, it complemented the young woman’s natural beauty. Smiling warmly at Sophie, she headed to the garden fence. The breeze moved the neighbour’s skirt and forced her to hold the fabric. ‘Hello, I’m Ruby, Daisy’s mum. Pleased to meet you.’
Sophie shook Ruby’s hand. ‘Pleased to meet you too.’
‘Daisy, come in now. Our new neighbours are busy.’ Ruby turned to talk to Sophie again. ‘We’ll leave you in peace. Come on Daisy.’ Daisy smiled and ran back into the house.
‘Er, bye. Nice to meet you,’ said Sophie, ‘I hope to…’ Her words ceased up as the oak door closed. She caught a glimpse of Ruby waving to her before she closed the door.
*
Once inside the living room, Sophie said, ‘I’m starving.’ She grabbed the cooler bag and headed for Delfryn Abbey with Jack. They marvelled at the river and hills on the ten minute walk to Delfryn Abbey. Trees stirring from the winter reverie stretched up to the sleeping sun while the river presented shimmering shadows. She still couldn’t believe they had bought a house in Delfryn. ‘You can’t live in a picture postcard,’ her dad warned. But she wanted the village to be as bright and sunny as those in the novels she loved to read as a child.
Glancing up at the abbey they watched the streaks of light pierce the ruins. Earlier, she placed a miniature bottle of red wine in her bag to toast the new place later. On impulse, she opened the bag and took out the bottle and some plastic glasses. ‘Cheers,’ she said with a big smile, and proceeded to arrange more food on the plates. She had prepared coleslaw, a blue cheese pasta, and a refreshing salad of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber. There was also some homemade date and walnut bread and homemade minced beef pasties. ‘Do you want a squeeze of fresh lemon on your salad? I’ve also got some homemade chutney and cheese.’
Jack finished his food and was digging greedily into the tub for more pasta. ‘Your bag is like the Tardis,’ He mumbled with a mouthful of pasta. ‘Are you sure you should have wine?’
‘I’m allowed to have a little. But you’ve got me worried now.’ She pulled a face. ‘Why are you spoiling the moment?’ She placed the bottle back into the bag.
He removed the small bottle from the bag to open it. ‘Sorry. You worried about it in the previous cycles.’
‘I told the nurse that Fridays weren’t the same without wine. She told me that it’s fine to have a glass or so before the implant. It’s more important to stay off the wine once they’ve put the embryo back inside.’
‘Good. OK.’ He looked at the food as he spoke and raised his glass above his head. ‘If it works then we’ll come back here, next year, with the baby.’
‘I wish!’ The butterflies shifted as Sophie dared to hope.
Jack hastily added, ‘But no problem if it doesn’t work. We’re happy!’
‘You’ve got chutney on your chin,’ laughed Sophie as she wiped Jack’s chin. Sophie heard the wobble in Jack’s voice when he spoke.
‘You know what? It’s nice to let ourselves enjoy the dream sometimes. It’s just that if I imagine too much, then I get even more disappointed that it didn’t come true.’ Sophie rubbed her forehead, nervously as she spoke.
Nodding, he said, ‘Yes. Come on! We need to get back before the removal guys wreck something.’ Jack took hold of Sophie’s hands. ‘We’re happy, and I do love you.’
*
They admired the crooked slate cottages, quaint little lanes and the meandering river as they walked home. An overwhelming happiness at being here, on earth, reassured Sophie. The sun tried to emerge, but the clouds danced in the sky as if they intended to win the duel. Jack called in to the local shop to get a few supplies and Sophie explored the local Italian café. The Olive Tree café was a small building constructed of Welsh slate. Delfryn Abbey overshadowed the modest building, but the café rested beside its ancient companion. An old olive tree with beautiful ancient branches stood in the centre of the café. Small pots of geraniums featured in the centre of each table. She ordered two coffees and waited for Jack to return. As she waited, she studied the menus and took in the details of the homemade made pasta and stone baked pizzas.
Sophie watched a girl arrive outside the café on a scooter. The young woman removed her helmet and rested the scooter on the lawn of the café. She looked about twenty or maybe older. Hair scraped back into a ponytail, stressed the girl’s beautiful high cheekbones. She wore jeans and a simple white blouse. Opening the door, she called, ‘Mamma, I need to finish my work. I don’t have time to wait on tables. Can I have peace and quiet for once?’ The young woman’s grey eyes shone with her determination as she spoke with her mother, Rosa.
Rosa sprinkled chocolate powder onto the cappuccinos as she responded. ‘Come on, Olivia, it’s an excuse. I’m sick of you studying. It won’t harm to help me tonight. I need the help and you can study all day tomorrow. What’s so urgent?’ Despite protesting, Rosa’s deep brown eyes radiated warmth. She hugged her daughter but Olivia pulled away. Rosa picked up the cappuccinos from the counter and took them over to Sophie. Rosa raised her hands to her head and wailed, ‘You’re young and won’t fall in love if you lock yourself away. Always studying!’ Pensive, Rosa wiped the counter.
Olivia shrugged at her mother. Sophie wondered if Olivia preferred not to wear any makeup. The hair scraped off the face and the glasses perched on the nose seemed to be defying her mother. Mother and daughter shared the same profile and high cheekbones, yet Olivia was much taller than her mother.
And then, as Jack walked in, Rosa’s attention moved from her daughter to Jack. She smoothed her hair, tilted her head, showed her fine white teeth in a wide smile and made a beeline for him. ‘Come in, come in! You must be the new neighbours. Welcome to The Olive Tree. See this olive tree, it is from my family’s farm in Sicily. It’s a symbol of life but alas no olives grow on it.’
Sophie, although rather put out that Rosa was so loud and flirtatious with her husband, decided this behaviour was just Italian over-effusiveness. Olivia looked mortified. Beneath the girl’s frown, her beauty remained dormant as if waiting to shine. Sophie smiled at Olivia to reassure her. To conceal his discomfort, Jack moved his fair hair from his eyes.
‘It’s a beautiful tree. I see you have already met my wife, Sophie.’
Rosa walked towards Sophie. ‘The cappuccinos are on the house. I’ll reserve a special table for the two of you tonight.’
Jack sat opposite Sophie, and they drank the coffees in silence. They were both conscious that the neighbours could hear their conversation. She drifted into thoughts about the treatment and the last injection she needed to complete tonight. She didn’t want to talk about the details, in the café.
‘Isn’t it great to have this around the corner?’ said Sophie. The door creaked as Rosa moved into the kitchen to collect some orders. Olivia stopped working to check her phone.
Jack asked, ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes, just thinking about the usual stuff. I love it here and hope it all works out for us.’ Sophie took hold of Jack’s hands as he listened. Momentarily, she caught Olivia’s glance. It seemed Rosa was taking her beautiful, hardworking daughter for granted.
‘Soph, come on now,’ Jack urged. ‘We need to check on the removal guys.’ Mesmerised by people watching, Sophie did not move. ‘Come on, they’ll leave the furniture on the pavement if we’re not careful.’
*
On returning to Vine Cottage, they confronted chaos. The removal men had dumped the furniture, clothes and boxes randomly. They loitered in the middle of the lounge and waiting for five o'clock. Sophie assumed her teacher voice as she instructed the removal men to arrange the large pieces of furniture.
Once the removal men had gone, she said, ‘It looks so dark in here. The furniture just doesn’t belong. The kitchen is so dark. I'm overwhelmed by how much we have to do.’ Sophie sat down.
‘It takes more than a few hours to turn a place into a home,’ Jack reassured her. ‘Let’s enjoy the promise of everything. Your emotions are all over the place.’
‘The lack of light in the room makes it gloomy. Sorry. I need to snap out of these doubts. I’ve thought about the last injection all day. It’s affecting my judgement.’ Aware of his concern, Sophie remained quiet and made her way upstairs. ‘I'll make the bed up for tonight.’
Jack shouted upstairs, ‘Don’t unpack. We’re off out later.’
‘I need to sort out a few things before we go out. Remember that I’ve got to do the injection at midnight.’ Darkness in the room cast a shadow on her thoughts, and reminded her of the last time the IVF treatment had failed.
As she searched through the pile of clothes in search of something to wear in the evening, she heard the ping of a text message. There was a text message from her mum wishing her good luck. Placing the phone down on the window ledge, she glanced out the window and saw Daisy playing in the garden next door. She waved and laughed at the sight of the child wearing her mother’s oversized sunglasses and trying to drag a chair with her. She was moving the chair into the sun and had piled up some books and teddy bears.
Each cottage had a decent sized garden, separated from the house by a path that led to the church. She wasn’t sure if she still liked this arrangement, but it had charmed her when she first saw Vine Cottage. She had imagined holding a garden party to unite all the neighbours at some future stage. In her mind’s eye, she had transformed the place into something worthy of coverage in the Saturday Telegraph magazine. The place looked rather dark and her mother had warned her about poor light in older buildings. She would clean the windows tomorrow and take down the heavy curtains.
Jack came into the bedroom just as she had finished changing. ‘Come on, let’s go. You need a break.’ With a firm grip of her shoulder, he steered her towards the door.
*
Rosa had transformed The Olive Tree for evening diners. Simple white tablecloths, carnations and rosemary in individual rustic jugs, adorned the tables. Candles flickered in the windows and tea lights fluttered on the tables. It was like a little corner of Italy in Wales. Sophie watched the shadows created by the candles and nudged her worries to the back of her mind. Customers glanced up at Sophie and Jack as they entered the room.
Rosa greeted them both and led them to a table overlooking a view of Delfryn Abbey. She pointed as she said, ‘I have saved you my special romantic table.’ She winked, and they smiled at the warmth emanating from her.
‘I love the way you’ve transformed the atmosphere for the evening,’ said Sophie, gesturing around the room.
‘Thank you – I enjoy turning my café into a place of romance and promise. But Matteo thinks I am over the top, as I like to redesign the room each week.’
‘My beautiful wife casts a magic romantic spell on all the couples who visit,’ declared a rotund little man as he entered the room with his arms outstretched. Matteo greeted his wife with an effusive kiss, as if she had just arrived back from a long journey.
He stood back, admired Rosa again and declared, ‘I fall in love with my wife every day.’ Only a little taller than his wife, his shape suggested that he was rather too fond of his pasta. ‘Each day, we must count our blessings and love again.’ He kissed Rosa with passion, but she looked uncomfortable. Sophie lowered her head and considered her napkin as if her life depended on it.
Sensing Sophie’s discomfort, Olivia hurried over with the menus. ‘My parents are 'amore' addicts. They need some version of AA counselling,’ said Olivia, with a wry smile. The confident humour Olivia displayed caught Sophie’s attention. Taller than both her parents, the girl wore the same black outfit as her mother. Olivia's leopard print scarf rested around her neck with obvious disdain, while Rosa’s arranged hers in a way that accentuated her animated face. Although Olivia was taller than her mother, their faces both had the same bone structure. Matteo’s rotund shape seemed to dissolve into the darkness in the room.
Between waiting on tables, Olivia returned to a laptop and some books; she looked at her mother to see if she would comment. However, she never let herself become too distracted from the guests. Her humour and quiet confidence shone as she greeted guests. An attractive, confident man, in his late twenties, arrived with his partner. Olivia blushed, her head bowed, and Sophie smiled to herself.
As if tapping in to her daughter’s discomfort, Rosa took the menus and ushered the couple to a table. ‘Welcome back, Mr Small,’ said Rosa once she had seated the couple. Rosa touched her daughter’s hand as she passed. The instinctive interaction between mother and daughter impressed her. It would be lovely if she and Jack conceived a girl: she loved the name Megan.
Jack interrupted Sophie’s reverie and said, ‘Hey, is Matteo one of the Mafioso? A tiny bit scary.’
She laughed. ‘This is terrible, you can’t judge Matteo because he looks a little like Al Pacino. I really like Rosa, she’s great. We’re lucky to have this restaurant on our doorstep. I think we’ll love it here in Delfryn. I can’t wait to renovate the cottage and making it our own. Let’s hope we have to decorate the second bedroom…’
Sophie knew Jack could read her worries. She wished he would talk to her about the fertility treatment. Candles glowed and the shadows danced in the room. The olive tree in the centre of the restaurant, lit with fairy lights, added to the charm of the place. She relaxed when she and Jack planned the renovations of Vine Cottage. The gift of hope flashed in her mind, as she looked lovingly at her husband.
Chapter Two
For Olivia, service in the café moved on quickly, as she weaved expertly between the tables. Eventually, she had to take the order of the couple who she had greeted earlier. She had seen the young man, Ben Small, briefly around the village and she had found herself daydreaming about him. His tall physique, dark hair and calm presence appealed to her. She imagined him to be kind, caring and attentive. He would be someone who would listen to her worries with his kind eyes. She would move the dark hair from his eyes as they talked and talked about everything. Her father wouldn’t approve of the age difference, but he would accept it as soon as they announced their wedding. They would honeymoon in Italy, take in the culture and travel in the Porsche. The dream shattered when he walked into the restaurant with another woman. Of course, he would have a partner! Her mother had saved her blushes by taking the couple to a distant table. Surprised at her mother's support, she studied the list of bookings. Ben sat opposite his dark-haired girlfriend who had those trademark eyebrows that enter the room ahead of their owner.
She had not heard Mr Small asking for the bill. And she became flustered when she realised she had been staring at Mr Small. The table groaned with coffee cups, cakes and empty wine glasses. There was no space for the bill on the crowded table. Afraid her hand would shake, she moved the wine cooler to another empty table and placed the bill down in the space. Mesmerised by Mr Small’s attention, she stared at the couple. Then a glass toppled over spilling
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