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ALEXANDRA POTTER
Prologue
JANUARY
New Year’s Day
The Following Friday
The Next Day
Sunday Lunch
The Battle of the Thermostat
Sod This Sunday
Life and Death
FEBRUARY
Death by Blue Rinse
An Unexpected Guest
Battle of the Dishwasher
An Obituary
Unconsciously Uncoupling
Death by Pancake
Valentine’s Day
The Day After
A Moment of Truth
Plus One
Delete Contact
MARCH
Question and Answer
The Surprise
WhatsApp Chat with Fiona
The Fear
Big Little Brother
Mother’s Day
The Naked Truth
Let There Be Light
Feeling Inspired
Good Friday
APRIL
1 April
Easter Monday
My First Confession
Let It Snow
Going, Going, Gone
WhatsApp Group: Michelle’s Baby Shower
The Baby Shower
Pulling the Trigger
Friday 13th
The Bereavement Bunker
A Slippery Slope
MAY
May Day
Failing
The Raincoat
It’s Complicated
Facebook is Not My Friend
A Desperate Act
The Photograph
Mirror, Signal, Manoeuvre
It’s Not You, It’s Me
The Last (Plastic) Straw
Not Junk!
JUNE
Never Too Late
WhatsApp Chat with Fiona
The First Date
School Sports Day
What Would Frida Do?
The Second Date
Plus One
The Naked Forty-Something
The Third Date
Morning After the Night Before
Group WhatsApp Message from Max
JULY
Summer Holidays
Two Blue Ticks
Ghosted
Guilty as Charged
ThrowbackUp Thursday
Secrets and Lies
Be Happy
The Doctor’s Appointment
Panic and Potential
Le Mieux est L’Ennemi du Bien
Text Exchange with Max
AUGUST
The Invisible Woman
What’s Your Superpower?
The Horrors of Overhead Lighting
An Inspector Calls
Viva España
Barcelona
Bikinis and Babies
Letting Go
One Love
Notting Hill Carnival
SEPTEMBER
The Dilemma
Double Booked
Fab Female Friday
Cold Feet
Stream of Consciousness
My Brother’s Wedding
A Separation
The Package
A Development
The Next Day
OCTOBER
A Week Later
The Weirdest Thing
Love Is All You Need
Independence Day
Life Moves On
A Haircut
Halloween
NOVEMBER
My Confessions
Bonfire Night
The Phone Call
No Guarantees
Evie Rose
Dark Night of the Soul
The Next Morning
Tea and Biscuits
The Weekend
Auntie Nell
Breathing Space
DECEMBER
A Christmas Drink
Going Viral
New Beginnings
Things I’ve Learned from Cricket
Christmas Cards
Frankenstein and Myrrh
The Nightmare Before Christmas
Christmas Eve
Christmas Day
Boxing Day
The Days In Between
New Year’s Eve
New Year’s Day
This Year’s Gratitude List (Revised)
ELIZABETH GILBERT
Prologue
1. My air miles
OK, so perhaps not exactly the kind of blessed and spiritual thing the author
of the article had in mind, but trust me, I was feeling very bloody blessed to
have all those air miles when I flew back to London last week.
I’ve been living in America for the past ten years, five of them in
California with my American fiancé. I loved California. The never-ending
sunshine. Wearing flip-flops in January. Our little cafe-cum-bookshop
which we sank all our savings into, with its delicious brunches and walls
lined with books. I was happy and in love and engaged to be married. The
future stretched ahead like candy-coloured bunting. Everything was going
to work out just like I’d always hoped.
But then our business went bust and our relationship along with it and –
poof – it all turned back into a pumpkin. I was not going to marry the prince
and live happily ever after with our cute kids and adorable rescue dog.
Instead I was going to pack up what was left of my life, cash in all my air
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something that Harty had said which could make her feel sure that he would
be happy in heaven, if he should die. She thought of the Sunday evening
when he had bid her "Good night" so kindly, and joined in saying the
Catechism; of the first Sunday that he had made a prayer on entering
church; and of the many times that he had listened with interest while Rosa
talked of the Saviour. But these recollections did not set her mind at rest.
She knew that God had said, "My son, give me thine heart;" and she felt
sadly sure that Harty had never, in sincerity, given his heart to God.
CHAPTER XIV.
CONCLUSION.
When Rosa bent over Harty, and called him by name, he looked
strangely at her, and, muttering, turned away. At first this was almost too
much for her to bear; but by degrees she became accustomed to it, and
commanded herself sufficiently to relieve Mrs. Maxwell from her post as
nurse. Poor Mrs. Maxwell was quite worn out, and was very glad to take a
little rest. Lucy had darkened her room, that she might sleep the better; and
as soon as the tired woman had lain down, she stationed herself by the door
to keep the hall as quiet as possible. Lucy found that she had been unjust to
Mrs. Maxwell. She had always thought her a stern woman with a cold heart;
but when she saw how tenderly she watched by Harty's bedside, she felt
that she should always love her for it, and never call her cross again, when
she found fault about trifles.
Mrs. Maxwell herself was surprised to find how deeply she had become
attached to Dr. Vale's children. She had met with much misfortune and
unkindness in the world; and when she came to live in Dr. Vale's family, she
resolved to do her duty faithfully, and did not expect to love those around
her or be loved by them. Although her severe manner had softened but
little, by degrees she had become so fond of the children that she was only
happy when doing something for them; and now her anxiety for poor sick
Harty knew no bounds.
Several sad days of care and nursing passed by. Dr. Vale, Mrs. Maxwell,
and Rosa, were with Harty by turns, day and night; and Lucy patiently
waited on all until evening came, when she slept soundly from pure
weariness.
Mr. Gillette was a comfort to all: he seemed truly a messenger from his
Master in heaven, for there were ever sweet words of consolation on his
lips. He daily offered prayers in the room of the sick boy; and all who knelt
with him rose up strengthened by trust in the God who "doeth all things
well."
One day, when Harty had been ill a week, Rosa was sitting by him in
silence, when, in a low, weak voice, he called her by name.
"My dear brother," she answered, very calmly, although she was much
startled.
He took the hand she placed on his, and said, in a searching manner,
"Am I very ill?"
"We hope you may get well, but you are in God's hands," was Rosa's
reply.
When it was again Rosa's turn to act as nurse, she found that there had
been a decided change in Harty. He slept more calmly, and breathed more
naturally. Dr. Vale came in when she had been sitting by the bed a few
moments: a rapid examination served to show him that there was, indeed,
cause for hope.
The joyful news spread through the household, and many thanksgivings
went up to the God who dispenses sickness and health. Rejoiced as all were
at the idea of seeing Harty once more in health, there was in every heart a
deeper cause of gratitude: they might now hope that he would not be called
to meet his Father in heaven while yet a disobedient, wandering child. Time
might yet be given him to learn, to know, and love that Father, and walk in
His holy ways.
When Harty was again conscious of what was going on around him, his
father was with him. "Don't trouble yourself to think now, my dear boy,"
said Dr. Vale, soothingly. "I hope you will soon be much better; and I pray
God that He will enable you to lead a new life. Lie still now, and you will
soon fall asleep again, to wake much refreshed, I hope."
Harty's recovery was slow and tedious. He was very weak, and little
inclined to talk. He seemed most contented when Rosa was singing to him
some pretty hymn, and Lucy was sitting by him on the bed smoothing his
hair, or fanning him gently.
His large eyes looked sunken and thoughtful, and his manner, once
boisterous, was mild and gentle.
"Don't move for me again this morning, dear Lucy," he said one day;
"your little feet must be very tired with running up and down stairs. When I
get well I shall have to wait on you all the rest of my life to repay you for
this kindness."
This was so unlike the old, exacting Harty, that it quite overcame little
Lucy, and the tears were in her eyes as she answered, "I love to do anything
for you, my dear brother. I want nothing from you but to get well as soon as
you can, and look bright, and merry, and tease me as you used to do."
A sad smile crossed Harty's face, as he said, "I don't mean to do as I used
to do in anything, Lucy. You will forget how unkind I was to you, won't
you, pet? I don't think I shall be so any more."
Lucy's tears fell fast. Don't talk so, Harty," she said; "You were never
unkind to me. I was a foolish little thing, and let everything worry me.
Come, we won't talk any more; you look tired. Here is Rosa, she will sing,
—
By degrees the colour came again to Harty's cheeks, and his limbs
renewed their strength.
One calm Sunday evening, towards the end of June, he was sitting
between his sisters, looking out at the evening sky.
"Let us have the Catechism once more," said Lucy; "it will seem like old
times."
Rosa and Lucy began as usual together. Harty's voice was with them;
and there was a deep solemnity in his manner as he pronounced the words,
"Yes, verily, and by God's help so I will; and I heartily thank our Heavenly
Father that He has called me to this state of salvation, through Jesus Christ
our Lord; and I pray unto God to give me His grace that I may continue in
the same unto my life's end."
His sisters felt that he spoke from his heart; and there was that joy in
their hearts which the angels know over "one sinner that repenteth."
As the summer passed away, the cottage looked cheerful once more, as
of old. The children again rambled in the woods or strolled in the orchard,
and whenever their voices were heard the tones were pleasant and kindly.
True, they all had faults of character still to overcome, and were
sometimes tempted to go astray; but there was in each heart an earnest wish
to do right, and a spirit of love and forgiveness that kept them from all
variance.
Mrs. Maxwell was still formal and particular; but she now had little
cause for complaint, for Harty was so grateful for her watchful care during
his illness, that he made many efforts to overcome his careless habits, and
in a great measure succeeded.
"The dear boy forgot for once," she would sometimes say, as she hung
his cap on the accustomed peg, or overlooked some act of heedlessness; for
she felt that he was trying to please her, and she was the more ready to
forgive him.
In the trying scenes by Harty's bedside Dr. Vale had been brought near in
heart to his children. Now there was no subject on which he could not talk
freely to them. He spoke to them of their mother, and told them anecdotes
of her blameless life that were treasured up in their young hearts for loving
imitation.
The blessed Saviour and the heaven He purchased for His faithful ones
were often subjects for conversation in that happy family circle, and the
doctor felt, as he looked into the faces of his children, that God had blessed
their mother's prayers.
Uncle Gillette's letters were always welcomed with joy, and never read
without cheering the young Christians in the path of duty.
Lucy had now nothing to fear: the sorrows of her timid childhood were
over. Loving and cheerful, she made all happy around her. She had found a
comfort for all sorrow, a Friend ever-present, a support for life and death, in
Him who saith to the children of His love, "Fear not, little flock; for it is
your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom."
LONDON: R. K. BURT, PRINTER, HOLBORN HILL.
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