How to Bake a New Beginning. Lucy Knott

      The sky was a rich, inky black, the air causing her warm skin to cool at its icy touch. As the wind whipped around her face, Louisa began to feel her mind ease. She could see the stars twinkling above and naturally looked out for the brightest one.

      ‘He’s not gone far.’ Mum spoke softly, her gaze too on the brightest gold star above. ‘Not really. We can talk to him every day.’

      ‘You know I will, Mum,’ Louisa said, with pause. ‘Mum? Do you think he was proud of me? I mean, I didn’t finish uni and he didn’t get to see me have a proper job like Amanda and Sabrina. Do you think he was disappointed in me?’ Small sobs seeped out as Louisa spoke.

      Mum stopped walking and turned to face her youngest daughter. ‘Oh, sweetheart, of course he was proud of you. Don’t you ever think otherwise. He adored you and loved that you gave London a go. He was proud of you for trying it and for taking a chance. And, honey, you know he was elated when you came back. My goodness, he wouldn’t have said it for fear of stopping you going after your dreams, but having you back at home made him happier than any degree you could have gotten. Selfish or not, sweetheart, he loved getting to spend time with you each day. He couldn’t have been prouder of the women you all grew to be. The love you have for him and the family – oh he never stopped talking about you.’

      Louisa’s eyes were blurry, tears filling up at an alarming speed, a mixture of happy tears flowing with the sad ones. She reached her arms around her mum’s neck and hugged her tight, words having escaped her. She thought about all the designs she and her grandpa had come up with and all his favourites and wondered what on earth she was supposed to do without her biggest muse. The tears wouldn’t stop.

      Mum rubbed her back before stepping back and looking Louisa straight in the eyes. ‘Sweetheart, he treasured every moment you spent together and loved being a part of your life. Every day I’d hear about a sketch you had drawn and even when you weren’t there he was making notes of some design or clothing someone wore on TV that he thought you might like. Honey, you are amazing, and he knew that and believed it with all he had.’ She paused, rubbing Louisa’s arms. ‘Come on, let’s get back inside – it’s getting a bit nippy,’ Mum added, giving Louisa a tight squeeze. She stayed like that for a few moments before leading the way back to the house.

      Louisa rested her head on her mum’s shoulder as they walked back towards the house. The roads were peaceful now. Only a few cars raced by while they walked. The fresh air was bringing back feeling to Louisa’s numb bones. With every step came a stab of pain. Tears came and went as she thought happy thoughts in between the sad ones. She thought about how she needed to get her designs out into the world and make her grandpa proud and she thought about his voice, his smile and his hugs and how much she needed them. The mixture of emotions was torture. They walked back into the house and found Amanda sitting on the stairs.

      ‘Hey,’ Amanda said, standing to greet them. Louisa noticed she looked a little pale and her smile was forced. ‘Fancy helping me in the kitchen?’ she asked Louisa.

      Louisa appreciated her sister’s efforts and smiled broadly, knowing what her sister was thinking. ‘Sure, I think it’s what everyone needs right now,’ Louisa replied, taking off Grandpa’s jacket and abandoning her thoughts for a little while. She needed the break.

      Sabrina and Nanna were huddled around the kitchen table, staring into their coffee mugs, while their dad was keeping busy refilling the kettle. Louisa walked over to their dad and took over making coffee.

      ‘Dad, do you want to take Mum and Nanna into the living room and get the fire on?’ she asked, gently taking the kettle from his shaking hands.

      ‘Course I can, sweetheart, thank you,’ he replied, kissing her forehead.

      Louisa was used to her grandparents’ house being full of warmth, love and laughter, as it had been just yesterday. She took a deep breath, with no energy left for any more tears, and knew what Grandpa would do in this situation to make everything a little better. She had to keep him with her and she knew exactly what that meant. It seemed so did Amanda.

      Louisa grabbed Sabrina by the hand and pulled her to her feet. She passed her the chopping board and a tomato and hugged her tight. Giving Sabrina a task would help distract her and keep her busy. She then set about collecting a pan and joining Amanda in getting together all the other ingredients they needed to make her favourite pastina. Grandpa had fed this to her way before she ever got her first tooth. It was comfort food at its finest.

      Side by side the girls chopped tomatoes and celery, boiled the water and added the seasonings, before sprinkling in handfuls of the tiny pasta to the water to let it cook. In no time, the simple dish was ready. Louisa gathered up bowls, while Amanda added a plate of toast to the tray and Sabrina carried the coffee into the living room.

      Louisa sat cross-legged by the coffee table, placing her bowl of steaming hot pastina in front of her. For a few moments, no one spoke. She stared into the steam, willing her moments of strength she had had in the kitchen to continue. She looked around the room and as the aroma of fresh celery, cherry tomatoes and Dialbrodo filled the room, Louisa could see grateful smiles form on everyone’s faces.

      It was too much. Her strength vanished as pools of tears gathered in her eyes. His face was missing – his kind, soft, always grateful face was missing from the bunch. She curled her toes underneath her and with shaking hands picked up her spoon. She didn’t want her nanna to see her tears. She wanted to be strong for everyone.

      She closed her eyes, sniffed and placed a spoonful of the baby pasta in her mouth. The buttery flavour and slight crunch of the celery satisfied her taste buds. A small smile appeared on her face as she recalled how her grandpa had made her pastina a million times, probably, over the years. It was still her favourite.

      She looked up to see colour was rising back into her nanna’s cheeks and Dad was filling up Mum’s bowl with some more soup. The fireplace now boasted golden flames that were keeping them all nice and toasty, but not too toasty, of course; heeding Grandpa’s words, they were careful not to roast.