The House on Findlater Lane
Page 7
She sighed and, stripping off her wet jogging gear, she hit the shower, relaxing in the warm water. It was then that she decided she would engage with the Sergeant as if he was there with her, whether he chose to show himself or not; two can play at this game!
From his well-placed position hanging on the wall, the Sergeant watched her. Dressed warmly now and with her hands cupped around a half-filled mug of tea, Holly sipped the contents and looked around. Then she placed it on the garden wall and began to pace from one end of the front cottage garden and back again. She looked up, and then went the opposite way, taking huge steps. It wasn’t a very big front yard, more of a square near the steps, but it was a great spot to have tea or wine and to watch the ocean and parade of people. That’s what he and Meg did often.
What the hell is she doing now? He saw her scribble down some notes, then retrieve a tape measure from her pocket and do measurements. She placed a small garden gnome on one end and did parallel measurements first.
The Sergeant moved from his frame to the doorway, leaning against the door, confident in the knowledge she couldn’t see him.
‘Good morning, Sergeant,’ she said, with a casual salute and grin.
His mouth dropped open and he instinctively stepped back inside. Then he realised she was bluffing; she couldn’t see him at all. She was good, this girl, very good, he thought. Just to be sure, he moved, but her eyes didn’t follow him. Phew. But was now a good time to appear? It was daytime, they were outside and she was expecting him, sort of?
But he couldn’t bring himself to do it yet. He didn’t know why, he just sensed she really didn’t want him to appear; she was frightened and besides, he was intrigued by this new play.
‘Ms Hanlon, you are going to be the end of me,’ he said, but not so she could hear. ‘I should have sent you packing the first night with a bloody good scare… I’ve been too subtle. So, may I enquire… what the bloody hell you are doing?’
He watched her, wishing he could help as she balanced objects on one end of the tape measure, then the other.
‘You may wonder what I’m up to,’ she said.
Uncanny, he thought, enjoying her banter. He moved out of the doorway and sat on the small garden wall and watched her.
Holly continued talking to herself, and the Sergeant. ‘I’m going to fix up the garden. Since I’m going to be staying for a while – lucky you! – I thought it would be lovely to have a burst of green and a scattering of flowers here. We can sit out here and enjoy tea or something heavier if we like and watch the ocean.’ She turned to look at the waves hitting the rocks on the nearby horizon. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever tire of it.’
The Sergeant nodded. ‘That’s what my wife used to say,’ he said, contributing to the one-way conversation. Definitely the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had, he thought.
Holly continued, assuming he might be listening. ‘It’s a shame you can’t help me here… I wonder if ghosts can put any real weight on things? Hmm. I’d get you to stand over there with the tape measure,’ she said, with a sigh.
He came and stood beside her, observing the area.
‘Damn shame, wish I could help,’ he said, with an insincere smirk.
He thought back to the time when he and Meg were going to do this garden up, too. They had big plans for their little love nest as she used to call it… funny girl. He smiled at the memory. Meg had spoken with their landlady, Lily, and she was happy for them to get some quotes. Money wasn’t really an object for Lily and she had long wanted to make the garden a highlight of the house. He remembered them seeing the landscaper, and getting the plans drawn up. The Sergeant realised how long ago that was now… Holly wasn’t even born then… it must have the late Sixties or maybe it had just tipped into the Seventies.
I was alive after all so it must have been before 1972. Meg didn’t go ahead with it after she heard of my death, she just got out of here. The Sergeant pulled himself back to the now, but there was something about Holly that always took him back to Meg. He was surprised that he felt emotional about it; it had been so long ago.
Holly cut into his thoughts, chattering away.
‘Anyway, I’m going to see about getting the garden done professionally, Sergeant.’ She lowered herself onto the small brick wall in the front garden, almost on his lap and he hustled along further to observe her.
She continued. ‘I’m going to go to that large nursery just past the main street. That’s where I got the flowers on the table inside from, that afternoon I moved in. I’m sure you liked them,’ she said, and smiled. Her eyes scanned over him and kept moving. ‘I spoke with an older guy, Alfred, but I don’t know if he’s the designer or the manager… we’ll soon find out, no doubt.’
‘Alfred!’ The Sergeant sputtered. ‘Can’t believe he’s still alive. He was working at that place when Meg and I lived here in the Sixties. He would have been in his twenties then, I’m guessing. Ha, that’s amazing. He must be ancient!’ He turned to her for a reaction, but forgot she couldn’t hear him; he hadn’t appeared to her.
Holly shrugged. ‘Regardless of his role…’ she continued, ‘Alfred is most charming. He must be in his mid-seventies, I guess, maybe older. Anyway, he doesn’t want to retire and probably doesn’t have to if he runs the business.’
The Sergeant scoffed. ‘I bet he’s charming, the old devil. I vaguely remember Meg saying the same of him when he was a young bloke. Must be a lady’s man. And no, he’s not the owner, or he wasn’t then, anyway. The owner was a young bloke back then, too, I think he and his wife moved here from the city to start the business.’ The Sergeant shrugged. ‘Long time ago. Fancy that, Alfred’s still going, hey? Give him my best… on second thoughts, better not. What am I saying? You haven’t heard a word I said.’
Holly got up and began to collect her measuring instruments. She smiled and waved at the doctor as he went past. Nice old fellow.
‘Lovely morning,’ she said.
‘Indeed, young lady and good morning, Sergeant,’ he said, doffing his hat and continuing on. The Sergeant raised his arm in a casual salute.
Holly’s eyes widened and she turned, looking for him, but there was no-one there.
‘He can see you?’ she said. ‘You’ve been here the whole time.’
The Sergeant didn’t respond. Not yet. Clearly, she wasn’t going anywhere fast, Alexander thought. But that’s okay… he had a new plan. After hearing her discussion with the elderly woman about finding the family jewel, he had made a decision. He was going to hire Holly, too; hire her to find his wife, Meg, and find out why she had never come back to feel his presence and remember his happy years.
He wanted to know, was Meg angry at him? After all these years, had she still not been able to forgive him for going to Northern Ireland? Was it too painful for her, or did she resent him for it? After almost four decades, the pain must be replaced by melancholy… surely? Did she know what really happened to him? More importantly, did she know the truth of why he never returned home to her?
Yep, he had some cash hidden away in the cottage and he’d introduce himself to Holly and insist on a professional contract with her so she would take it seriously. He felt a strange mixture of relief and anxiety that soon he might actually hear some news about Meg at last. He felt even more out of sorts that he felt relieved and anxious; he was a ghost, after all.
Now that he needed Holly, he just had to work out when he was going to appear to his new tenant, and how best to do it without sending her running. He knew enough about people to know her bravado was only because it was daylight and she was outside – he could sense it and feel her heartbeat. He needed her to want to see him inside the house and not only during the day, but when the sun set.
And then, before he realised what was happening she rushed for the door and stopped dead in the doorway. His framed portrait was empty.
An unwanted guest… no, not the Sergeant!
‘She’s here,’ Alfred said, giving Luke a nudge.
‘No, not one of your harem,’ Alfred said, lowering his voice, ‘Holly – the lovely young lady who has rented Findlater House.’
‘Oh,’ Luke said, looking towards the nursery’s entrance, his eyes wide with interest. Then he saw her; she was cute – petite, her hair tied up in a ponytail and wearing a long-sleeved cotton t-shirt and jeans.
Alfred thought it was nice to see someone not in fitted Lycra; the young ones today left nothing to the imagination and in many cases, the imagination did not want to go there! As Luke was still staring, Alfred looked away.
Luke cleared his throat. ‘Do you want to deal with her? I found the plans, meant to tell you, so if she does want to talk landscaping…’
‘Great! I’ll be sure to bring her over,’ Alfred said, aware of Luke’s discomfort and interest. His nervousness was a good sign, Alfred thought; he wasn’t at all nervous around the ladies in his harem that he didn’t connect with. This was good, very good. Alfred wiped his hands on a nearby towel and walked towards Holly, straightening a few items along the way.
‘Hello again, Holly,’ he said, with a nod of his head.
Holly smiled. ‘Good morning, Alfred, what a beautiful day.’
‘A wonderful day to be alive,’ he agreed. ‘Did the flowers grace your home as they were meant to?
‘Absolutely, thank you. I’m back to talk about some serious gardening,’ Holly said, threateningly and Alfred laughed.
‘Now I’m guessing you mean for Findlater House then?’ Alfred said.
‘Yes. I don’t have a huge budget… doesn’t everyone say that?’ she asked, with a smile, and continued without waiting for an answer. ‘But the front yard is bereft, for want of a better word, and I’d love to have some greenery and flowers there.’
Alfred nodded. ‘Best you speak to the owner and our landscaper then, they’re one and the same. Come, I’ll introduce you to Luke Mayer.’
And so it begins, Alfred thought, happy to be part of what he believed would be history in the making… well, at least a potential wedding invitation. But then again, it was Luke after all. Best not to rent the suit just yet.
Holly left How Does Your Garden Grow? and its owner, Luke Mayer, very satisfied. An appointment was set up for Luke to visit Findlater House on Friday for a personal inspection of the garden and there were existing garden plans. How exciting, Holly thought.
It was not long after midday, so Holly decided today would be a good day to explore more of her new home village. She parked the car at the end of the main street and, on foot, weaved her way along it, intending to do a loop and window-shop on both sides of the street, or maybe go in and explore if the right premise called her in. She hadn’t got more than three stores along before she found a delightful café called The Cup and Saucer. She entered and a little bell chimed over the door. Most of the tables were for two or four, and whatever wasn’t covered in lace wore a doily. Adorable, she thought, like a trip back to grandma’s time.
Two ladies behind the counter greeted her and invited her to sit anywhere. They were obviously mother and daughter; so much alike. Holly chose a small table for one on the edge of the front windows where she could watch the street traffic and not take up a larger table should a late lunch crowd surge in. There was a buzz of conversation from the other tables and several other people dining alone… well, with their phones, as they stayed glued to the screens, occasionally flicking or messaging. Holly perused the menu, selected some homemade fruit toast and a pot of tea and after ordering from the most senior of the two women, who was charming, stopped and relaxed to enjoy the pace. She vowed not to look at her phone, as tempting as it was.
She sat back in her chair and leapt forward in pain. Ouch! Holly looked around but no-one had noticed she had jumped a foot off the chair. She subtly rose and lifted the chair cushion ever so slightly.
‘Aha, there’s the culprit,’ she said, pulling out a bow-shaped marquise brooch with pretty blue stones and little diamonds, the pin unclipped. ‘You’re pretty, but there are more subtle ways to tell me you are here!’ she scolded it.
Not long after, her morning tea was delivered by the younger woman wearing a name tag that read Doris. A very old-fashioned name. Holly wondered whether she swapped name tags with her mother just for fun; if only she could see it and confirm her suspicions! The teapot was huge, enough for at least three cups of tea and the fruit toast was a generous serve.
‘Ooh, wonderful, thank you,’ Holly gushed. She offered the brooch. ‘It just found me,’ she said, with a smile. ‘It was wedged between the cushion and the frame under the seat.’
Doris gasped. ‘Betty’s bow! Oh, you have no idea how long and hard we have searched for that,’ she said and carefully took it from Holly’s hand as though it might disappear again.
‘Betty?’
‘Mum,’ she said. ‘I call her Betty during shop hours.’
Well, that blew that theory, Holly thought. Doris and Betty!
‘Thank you, she will be thrilled,’ Doris said, still smiling at the brooch. ‘We vacuum under these cushions every day, it must have been clinging on for dear life. It’s a good thing we didn’t vacuum it up.’ Doris looked around and lowered her voice. ‘Mum thought it might have been stolen – we’re a bit careless with leaving our possessions out.’
‘I can’t take all the credit,’ Holly said, ‘the bow found me… gave me a little jab to tell me where she was.’
Doris laughed. ‘Morning tea is on us, please.’
Holly began to protest.
‘Oh no, I absolutely insist. Mum will be so happy. This was my grandmother’s. Not worth much, but sentimental nonetheless.’
Forty minutes later, with one empty teapot, a very clean butter plate and a kiss on the cheek from Betty, she declared The Cup and Saucer one of her new favourites. Holly resumed her walk down the village street. She noted the hardware store, gift store, book store, another gift store and a takeaway which seemed to have attracted every tradesman in the village. There was a chemist – good to know; a small grocery and liquor store – even better; and a fabric store – wow, that was unique! Were people still making their clothes? And yet another gift store. Seriously, she thought; the weekend tourist trade must justify it.
Holly crossed the road and made her way down the other side. Another café, but a very modern one that was doing very well and had the best display of cakes… hmm, dangerous; a newsagent; a bike hire store – nice idea for the tourists. There was the real estate agency where Holly rented Findlater House. She glanced in but there was no sign of Damien Flat, so she waved to a young office girl who gave her a reciprocal wave. Holly had a quick look at the properties for sale and couldn’t believe Findlater House would be worth so much by comparison. Good grief!
Onward she went, her car now coming back in sight and then she spotted it… the library. Without hesitation, Holly went in, organised a library card and immersed herself in the smell of books.
Seriously, who the hell is this now? The Sergeant saw a sporty, black, two-door BMW pull up outside Findlater House and a well-dressed man, groomed to within an inch of his life, got out and made his way to the front door. He rapped on it, sharp and loud.
‘Yeah, at your service, buddy,’ the Sergeant said from behind the door.
He watched the man glance at his watch and then knock again, before stepping back to look at the upstairs windows.
‘No-one’s here. Who the hell are you?’ the Sergeant growled, taking an immediate dislike to the impatient intruder.
The BMW man pressed his face to the glass windows and looked in. He looked at his watch again and then returned to his car, lowered himself in and made a call. And there he stayed.
It was close to thirty minutes late
r, as the afternoon light began to wane, when Holly’s car came into view. The Sergeant saw her reaction; she knew this guy and she wasn’t happy to see him. He guessed she wasn’t expecting to see him, either.
She parked and got out of the car; BMW driver got out and locked up. He gave her a grin and waved some papers at her.
‘Miss me, babe?’ he asked, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. ‘How’s village life?’
‘James,’ Holly said, her voice icy. ‘What are you doing here? How did you find me?’
‘Going to ask me in? I’ve got the papers, the divorce papers,’ he said, as if that would guarantee him entry.
Holly turned and walked towards the front door, her face pale and he followed in pursuit.
‘Well, this is nice, great view. Must be worth a fortune,’ James said, as he looked around.
‘What are you doing here, James?’ Holly asked.
‘Yeah, great to see you, too,’ her soon-to-be ex-husband said. He strode around, checking out the place and checking out his reflection in the windows where possible. ‘Love a cup of tea,’ he said.
Holly studied him. He looked good, he always did, she hated that. She put her bag down and moved to the kitchen area. ‘How did you find me?’
‘That was easy,’ he said, joining her. ‘I knew your family owned a place here so I checked out the local real estate agencies’ websites and only two had recent “rented” or “under lease” notes on properties, so I found them both and dropped in. He pointed to her business sign in the window. ‘That was the giveaway. Got some mail for you,’ he said, reaching into his coat pocket and dumping four letters on the counter. ‘I’ll get your stuff redirected to here now that I have your address.’ He slipped his jacket off.
‘You could have just mailed the divorce papers to Mum.’
‘Yeah,’ he shrugged, ‘but I wanted to see how you were doing, and check you were really serious about this… that you haven’t, you know, thought we were worth a second chance.’