The scent of baking bread always took Theodosia Goodfellow back. Back to her childhood in Enfield, a time when the air was thick with the smell of yeast and chimney smoke. She could picture herself, no older than eight, perched on a stool in her grandmother's kitchen, watching as gnarled hands kneaded dough, transforming simple flour and water into something magical. Those days were long gone. Theodosia, now a widow for almost two decades, found herself adrift in a world that seemed to move at a pace she could no longer keep up with. The bustling streets of Enfield, once familiar and comforting, now felt overwhelming, filled with faces she didn't recognise and conversations she couldn't quite follow. She clung to routine. Every morning, Theodosia would rise before the sun, brew a pot of strong tea, and sit by the window overlooking her small garden. The roses, meticulously tended to throughout the years, were starting to bloom, their velvety petals promising a burst of color soon. In those quiet moments, she'd often find herself reminiscing about her late husband, Edgar. A man of few words but deep convictions, Edgar had been a carpenter, his hands skilled at crafting beautiful furniture from rough timber. Theodosia remembered the pride in his eyes when he completed a piece, the satisfaction etched on his face as he ran his hand over the smooth surface. His workshop, once filled with the rhythmic thud of hammers and the fragrant scent of sawdust, now stood empty, a constant reminder of her loss. Theodosia had never been one for grand adventures or extravagant pursuits. She found contentment in the simple things: a well-tended garden, a freshly baked loaf of bread, the warmth of a crackling fire on a cold evening. These were the threads that wove together the tapestry of her life, each memory precious and irreplaceable. Though Enfield had changed around her, Theodosia remained steadfast, anchored by the values instilled in her by her family and community: honesty, hard work, and a deep respect for tradition. These principles guided her every step, providing a sense of stability in an ever-changing world. As she looked out at the sunrise, painting the sky with hues of gold and crimson, Theodosia felt a surge of gratitude. Despite the challenges life had thrown her way, she knew that within those familiar streets, amidst the scent of baking bread and the echoes of laughter from generations past, she was truly home.