Lovely Amanda James has appeared here on Linda’s Book Bag on several occasions, most recently when I reviewed her gorgeous Wish Upon a Cornish Moon in a post you’ll find here. I had hoped that, as well as sharing an excerpt from Amanda’s latest book, The Garden of Memories, I’d have my review ready to share today too. Sadly of late there has been a bit too much life happening beyond my ability to deal with it and I simply ran out of time. I’m determined to get to it as soon as I can and when you read the information about it, you’ll understand why!
Published on 20th June 2024 by Harper Collins imprin’t One More Chapter, The Garden of Memories is available for purchase through the links here.
The Garden of Memories
With nothing but time on her hands, retired nurse Rose Lanyon finds herself drawn to the garden that had once been her husband’s pride and joy.
It may have started as a means of honouring her husband’s memory, but her little Cornish garden soon becomes so much more – a place where the lost and lonely can find solace, the forgotten can be remembered, and second chances take bloom. Because, as long as new life is growing, there will always be hope and new memories to make…
An Excerpt from The Garden of Memories
Apparently, forty years should seem longer. Before people speak about the passing of large measures of time, they shake their heads in bewilderment, click their tongue against the roof of their mouth and sigh. Shortly after that, they say things like, ‘I can’t believe it’s been forty years!’ Next, some repetition to emphasise their surprise, ‘Forty. I mean, who would have thought it? Well, Rose would. Because when she started nursing, her eyes were bright, her skin was line-free and she had enough energy to power a hospital ward. Now her batteries are flat, and the majority of creases around her eyes aren’t made of laughter lines. They’ve mostly been created by exhaustion and burnout. Forty years of nursing will do that. Forty years of staying on past the end of your shift, caring, mending, lifting, guiding and healing. Forty years of carefully ironed uniforms, precisely tucked hospital corners, sensible shoes and quiet footsteps. A gentle smile, the touch of a hand, and a well-placed word.
The last shift. Forty years of a career that will end today. To Rose, this ending is much harder to believe than the passage of all that time. Since the age of twenty-two, she’s known nothing else. Nursing is who she is. It defines her. Rose Lanyon, the nurse. After today, what will she be? Who will she be? The words, ‘I used to be a nurse’ will find their way into her conversation. She’s not sure she’s ready for that – a ‘used to be’. She tells herself she needn’t worry too much, because she’ll only have to explain to those who don’t know her. Most do know her in this little Cornish community of which she’s part. For the past thirty years Rose has been a nurse in the local GP practice. A drawer of blood, a shoulder to cry on, a dresser of wounds. Before that, she walked the wards of The Royal Cornwall Hospital, until she swapped that for walking the bedroom, her baby daughter falling asleep on her shoulder, just as the dawn rose over the ocean.
Rose’s uniform is hanging on the wardrobe door, ready. Unlike her. Though her long career has taken its toll, she’s no regrets. None. She’s loved being a nurse. Though not all of it, because some parts have broken her. Sometimes she lies awake at night, remembering the faces of those who passed before their time. Rose thinks about the kind words offered to her by grieving relatives. Little gifts on parting. Thank you. You were there for my loved one. We will always remember you… At the time, she watched them go, never imagining that she would also remember them, in the still, quiet of the night. But she does.
The uniform waits. Under her fingers the material is cool, navy, no-nonsense. The uniform represents professionalism, inspires respect, garners trust and confidence. And sometimes she’s been grateful for this uniform, this barrier between the personal and professional. Rose would hide behind it to protect herself, especially during the hard times, but much more often, there have been happy times. Joy, even. The maternity ward was full of it, new life spreading light, its echo in the ringing bells of the cancer clinic. The love of the job and the people she met carried her up, over and through – knitting a pattern, a pathway along a working life for her to follow.
Acknowledging all that happiness, Rose finds herself smiling as she slips the uniform free of the hanger. Acknowledging too, that she’s grateful for such a long and happy career. It registers like a thump in her gut that this is the last time she’ll wear this bit of cotton. This bit of cotton that’s so much more. On the dressing table, from a photo taken on their local beach, her husband, Glen smiles too. His grey curls ruffling in the wind, his eyes, blue chips, squinting in the sun. She has the fleeting impression that he’s about to say something. Probably get your uniform on, go to work and stop all this pondering, Rose. Glen always said pondering on things too much was no good for you. He might have been right. She takes a breath, slips the uniform on, touches her fingertips to her lips and then to his. ‘See you later, you old grump. Love you.’
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Doesn’t that sound utterly wonderful? So relatable. I am thrilled that I have The Garden of Memories on my TBR.
About Amanda James
For more about Amanda, follow her on Twitter @amandajames61 and find her on Facebook and Instagram.