When I First Held You

PRAISE FOR ANSTEY HARRIS ‘It is brilliantly written, so many brilliant phrases which made me smile . . . I shall keep my fingers crossed that it is a huge hit. It ought to be, it’s marvellous. I shall be recommending it to all.’ —Lesley Pearse “Anstey Harris never disappoints. When I First Held You, is gripping, heart rending and extremely satisfying, from start to finish.” —Katie Fforde “A powerful, compelling and affecting read.” —Heidi Swain ‘This is a hauntingly beautiful novel. The painful story of Judith and Jimmy is told with deep sensitivity in lyrical prose that was a joy to absorb, and the plot unfolds at a pace that keeps you turning the pages – such a winning combination.’ —Imogen Clark ‘This book has a very big heart. Full of hope and so beautifully observed.’ —Samuel Burr ‘Compelling . . . A story of broken dreams and unexpected healing. You’ll want to read this.’ —Sarah Ward ‘When I First Held You is a wonderful kaleidoscope of passion, love, grief and misunderstandings . . . A stunning book – one to read and re-read many times’ —Celia Anderson ‘Her most powerful and personal book yet. Evocative, emotional and original, every word has been expertly crafted’ —Catherine Isaac For The Truths and Triumphs of Grace Atherton ‘The real truth and triumph of this gem of a story is simple: it is one of the best and most gripping descriptions of heartbreak that either of us have ever read.’ —Richard and Judy ‘Glorious on so many levels.’ —A. J. Pearce, author of Dear Mrs Bird ‘Lose yourself among beautiful symphonies, the romantic cities of Europe and quirky characters . . . a triumph.’ —Woman’s Weekly ‘A powerful and passionate novel, awash with heartbreak but still an uplifting tale of friendship and rebirth. Five stars.’ —Daily Express ‘Full of hope and charm.’ —Libby Page, author of The Lido ‘Brilliantly and movingly written.’ —Dorothy Koomson ‘A moving, beautifully written, uplifting debut about mending broken hearts through friendship. The twists and turns make it impossible to put down.’ —Sarah J. Harris ‘What a total joy!’ —Fanny Blake For Where We Belong ‘Incredibly moving and atmospheric.’ —Beth O’Leary ‘Simply stunning.’ —Fionnuala Kearney ALSO BY ANSTEY HARRIS The Truths and Triumphs of Grace Atherton (also published as Goodbye, Paris) Where We Belong (also published as The Museum of Forgotten Memories) This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Text copyright © 2023 by Anstey Harris All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle www.apub.com Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates. ISBN-13: 9781662503863 ISBN-10: 1662503865 Cover design by Emma Rogers For my mothers, with love Christine Jayne Harris 1945–70 Hazel Jane Baker née Choyce 1931–92 And for Rose McLoughlin, every week of my life CONTENTS Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six AUTHOR’S NOTE ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ABOUT THE AUTHOR Chapter One For most customers who enter the shop, the thing they most want mending is the past. We can’t do that: we can patch it, polish it, we can turn the past into a healthy memory to be built on – but we can’t mend it. Once we explain that, they seem happier: content to have an emblem of that time restored, or a memento made usable again. Often, all they need is to talk. The shop began life as a blue plastic laundry basket outside our garden gate. In it, Catherine would put every single thing that had made its way into our house but that we no longer wanted, or had never found a use for. Magically, every evening, the crate would clear again – as if there were fairies waiting to recycle those flimsy plant pots left after the seedlings had grown, goblins interested in a jumper with a bleach mark on the cuff, or a plastic bag full of plastic bags. ‘One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,’ Catherine would say, when she brought the grubby plastic basket in to fill it up again. The proof, day after day, that almost anything can be recycled or repurposed led to the bigger conversation that got us here – to the Mending Shop – and, four years after Catherine’s death, it’s a way to re-invent me. She may have set the whole thing up just to re-use me, I wouldn’t be surprised. For an artist, Catherine had a methodical and pragmatic mind: she spent fifty years one step ahead of me and it still amazes me that I manage to live without her. Usually the shop is a quiet place – a couple of volunteers beavering away at benches, the occasional customer in from the cold outside, a general air of concentrated purpose. I enjoy the peace in my little office; I have to raise my head above the parapet to deal with a crisis from time to time but I stay in here with the paperwork. Outside, in the shopfront proper, there are smells of solder, of paint, the occasional whiff of glue as something comes back together, comes back to life. We have customers – although not too many and no money changes hands – and we’re all, the volunteers and I,