Saving Grace by Jane Green Page A

her brainchild, fresh out of recovery all those years ago, wanting to give something back. It was Jennifer who raised the funds to buy the big old Queen Anne-style house in Nyack and reworked it so there were five small studios, each with a small kitchenette. There was a large playroom and a kitchen, the dining room table seating twenty at a push. There was a communal living room, and a smaller room set aside for support meetings, for many of the women arriving had their own issues with alcohol and drugs.
    Jennifer is strict and tough as old boots, with a heart as big as the ocean. As head of Harmont House, she takes in families broken down by fear and abuse, gives them jobs in the house to build their self-worth before helping them get jobs of their own in the real world.
    Her mission in life is to rehabilitate these women enough for them to have their own lives, away from the men who have abused them. They need to show they are clean and sober before going on to support their families, before they can think about moving out of the house.
    Families come and go, but the one constant, who stays in touch with all her ‘girls’, is Jennifer. Grace, full-time chef and current chair of the board, is at the forefront of all decision-making, but it is her kitchen prep work there five days a week that is the most fulfilling.
    She isn’t the great Grace Chapman when she’s there, isn’t a style icon in her jeans and clogs, her hair scraped back in a bun, not a scrap of makeup or jewellery.
    She shows up for shifts, either six or eight hours, giving Jennifer a break. She is there as the fill-in director, assigning jobs, organizing the house, leading meetings, giving out many hugs and teaching the women how to cook as she cooks for them herself.
    The children in the house at any given time all fall in love with her, as do many of the women. The hardest part of the work is the turnover. After all these years, despite knowing she must not attach, it is impossible not to, particularly when you see the women come in scared, beaten, tight, then watch them unfurl over the months, watch their faces fill with pride as they get jobs, find self-worth, become peaceful in a way they never dreamed possible before now.
    ‘“Ordinary” is not a word I would ever use to describe you,’ Jennifer says. ‘It’s your kindness, Grace. And your cooking. We’d be living on macaroni cheese ready meals if it weren’t for you, and I’d probably manage to mess that up. So what’s on the menu today?’
    Grace grins. ‘Your favourite. Cottage pie and apple crumble.’ She turns to the bag, rooting through the ingredients.
    Jennifer swoons. ‘I’m going to put on even more weight!’ she grumbles, delighted. ‘Your mother must have been an amazing cook. I wish someone had taught me to cook like this.’
    Grace pauses. ‘Oh damn. I can’t believe this. I forgot to buy the beef. How could I have forgotten that? It was first on the list.’
    ‘I can go and get it,’ says Jennifer. ‘I’ll run out.’
    ‘I’m so sorry. I seem to be forgetting everything these days.’
    Jennifer pats her reassuringly on the back as Grace leans her head briefly on her shoulder. Jennifer is the sort of woman you confide in.
    If there were anyone to whom she could tell the true story of her mother, anyone she could trust, Jennifer would be the likeliest candidate.
    The only people in the world who know are Lydia and Patrick. Ted knows only that her mother died young, that Grace and she hadn’t been close, that Grace longed for a secure family because her own was so fragile. He doesn’t know the true story, only Lydia and Patrick know the true story. She hasn’t spoken to Patrick in years, and although she phones Lydia at least once a month, it is hard to jump right in to the big stuff when you are so far away.
    Sometimes she thinks about sharing her story with someone here, wondering if it would release some of the shame she still carries today, some of the