‘I don’t need the details,’ Melissa protested.
‘He’s never got serious about anyone else as far as I know.’
Perhaps Harvey not being with anyone was the hardest thing of all, it made her question the ‘us’ that they’d been once upon a time and it was difficult not to look for signs that something may still be there between them. Or was it no more than nostalgia playing tricks with her?
‘So, how long are you staying?’ Tracy asked after a good swig of her cider.
‘Initially it was to be three weeks but I’m extending my stay.’
‘Barney’s recovery is going well, isn’t it?’
‘Physically, yes. But he’s not himself.’
‘You must be concerned if you’re thinking of hanging around a while longer.’
‘Barney’s saying he doesn’t want to do the Wedding Dress Ball this year.’
Tracy looked even more shocked than she had the day she saw Melissa in the street for the first time in years. ‘You can’t be serious. He does it every year and raises a lot of money for charity.’
‘He’s being really stubborn.’
Tracy laughed. ‘You know, sometimes it’s odd to think you two aren’t related.’
‘Very funny. But joking aside, I’ve never known him to be like this. Remember the time he dropped the planter pot that lives outside his front door onto the fingers of his left hand while he was attempting to move it?’
‘Do I ever? He swore, and not quietly either.’ They’d been helping hang the curtains Tracy’s mum had made for his lounge windows, the sort with the insulated backing that would keep the heat in during the winter.
‘Do you remember after he’d been to the hospital and they’d found one finger was broken, the other badly bruised, he was adamant he didn’t need two women running around after him?’
‘I do remember. I remember him going crazy at me when I saw him at the bus stop and offered to carry his groceries home. He was so mean, I cried my eyes out – pregnancy hormones at the time. He came to the house later with flowers and a box of chocolates and apologised.’
‘My point is,’ Melissa continued, ‘he hates sitting back and letting anyone take the lead. Or at least he did. Remember the Wedding Dress Ball the year I finished high school?’
‘The one where gale-force winds saw warnings on the radio telling people not to venture out?’
‘That’s the one. He wouldn’t accept it. He still had the ball, in the barn. It was as though it would be the end of the world if the event didn’t go ahead.’
‘I remember my mum talking about him being pig-headed,’ Tracy recalled. ‘She said he reminded her of my younger brother the year they cancelled the Wizard of Oz performance at the school because of snow. He wanted everyone to go there no matter the danger, he howled for days, I remember it myself.’
‘I’m worried about Barney and this fall taking away his independence.’
‘But he was up a ladder, could’ve happened to anyone.’
‘Everyone else seems to know that apart from Barney, who sees it as a sign of worse to come, that it’s the mark of the beginning of the end.’
‘Sounds a bit dramatic.’
‘I thought that too but now I’m not so sure. I’ve looked it up on the internet and his reaction is quite common in older people.’
‘You know, investigating things on the internet is often asking for trouble. I made that mistake when Giles wasn’t well last winter. I was horrified by all the things that he could have when it was a bad case of the flu combined with the worst cough I’ve ever known.’
‘Are you sure it wasn’t man flu?’
‘No, he really was sick. And I honestly thought the worst after looking it up online.’
‘But you agree, this isn’t like Barney at all, right?’
‘Of course I agree, and for selfish reasons I want that ball to go ahead. This year I’ve dieted enough that I’ll easily get into my wedding dress – might need a bit of padding around the boob area – and Giles has taken up running so is already looking forward to pulling on his tux.’
‘You won’t be the only ones disappointed. I think if this event doesn’t go ahead, it’ll have a worse effect on him than he realises. I did mention to Harvey about taking over the organising, but already Barney has said he doesn’t want it in the barn.’
‘At least you’re here with him now – that’s got to help, surely. Perhaps he’ll come round about running the ball.’
Melissa smiled, until it dawned on her. ‘Unless…’
‘Unless what?’
‘Unless it’s like they say, you know, when someone is dying they hang on to see those they love before they let go.’
‘Enough of that talk. And you know what? If you’re extending your stay it means you can come to the ball.’
‘If it happens.’
‘I’m sure Barney can’t be serious about not having it this year.’
‘I’m afraid he is. He’s already on about cancelling things.’
‘Then you’ll have to step up, you owe it to him. And yes, I am trying to guilt you into it.’
‘It’s working.’
Tracy stood and picked up her pint. ‘Come on, let’s get some crisps, I’m starving. And it’s getting chilly out here. We’ll go inside and you can tell me what you’re planning to wear to the ball this year, because mark my words, this event will go ahead.’
She was right. This ball had to run or Barney would regret it, and perhaps stepping in to ensure it did would go some way to making up for the hurt she’d caused.
Chapter Six
This morning the heavens had opened and shrouded the village in a damp cloud that didn’t appear to want to shift. Not that you’d know it now, as Harvey returned to Tumbleweed House after his early-morning start on a loft-conversion project. He unloaded his tools from the back of his pickup beneath a bright sky now that the sun had emerged from whichever cloud it had been hiding behind. The only sign of the questionable weather was the waxy leaves on the bushes that still held drops of rain in their palms.
As Harvey walked up to the front door he could hear Winnie’s tail thwacking against the other side of the wood. Winnie, predictably, launched herself at Harvey the moment he opened up and he crouched down in the doorway, his face in the dog’s fur, his hands ruffling Winnie’s coat the way she liked. Local girl Gracie, who lived at Hollyhock Cottage, was on hand to come in and walk Winnie on days when Harvey had to work longer hours than expected, and at least it gave the dog a change of scene.
‘You missed me, I know you did,’ he laughed, still fussing over Winnie. He’d be back out soon, to go and check on Barney, see if he could coax him into at least trying to follow the rehabilitation program. Talking with his mum yesterday as they sat in her gloriously sunny courtyard behind the tiny cottage she now lived in, he’d listened to Carol Luddington’s opinion that Barney just needed time. She’d always approved of her son’s bond with Barney, the man who’d been a father to him when he’d needed a positive male influence in his life. He certainly hadn’t had that from his own dad or his brother.
Filling a glass of water at the tap in the kitchen, he told Winnie, ‘You can come with me to Barney’s, if you behave and don’t get in the way.’ Winnie had already been out today, he knew because Gracie had texted, but she loved company. She’d been a rescue dog and he figured she’d had enough rough days along the way, so now he wanted to spoil her. But the last thing he wanted was for her to trip Barney up if she got excited and playful. He’d never forgive himself if Barney landed up in hospital all over again.
A gentle tap on the front door announced a visitor but Winnie was already on it and Melissa didn’t flinch when the dog ran straight at her.
‘Not interrupting, am I?’ She’d crouched down to fuss Winnie, who now had a fresh, captive audience. Melissa had always loved dogs, Harvey remembered. She’d once taken in a stray, convinced she would need to give it a home, only to find it belonged to someo
ne who’d come into the village earlier that day and the dog had wandered off. There had been tears when she’d had to return the canine to its rightful owner. She got attached quickly. Shame she was also capable of detaching at the same speed.
‘Not at all. What brings you here?’ He pushed the toolbox he’d brought inside further under the wooden bench in the porch, out of the way.
‘I need to talk to you and thought a house call was better than over the phone.’ Her voice followed him as he walked back through to the kitchen.
‘Fair enough. Come on in.’ Having her in his space felt odd but he distracted himself by freshening up Winnie’s bowl of water. From the corner of his eye he saw Melissa sit down at the battered oak table running parallel to the bench that looked out onto the gravel courtyard and the fields beyond Tumbleweed House. On the same bench was the butler’s sink that added character to the property, and above the island that separated him from the table and Melissa hung the same period wrought-iron saucepan rack that had been here since the day he first invited Melissa over and his mum made them elderberry milkshakes as their short legs dangled from the now-tatty chairs with the same patina as the table. Melissa had thought it was fancy having all your pots and pans hanging up – he’d thought it was an odd thing to notice, but he hadn’t cared, he was just happy he had a friend over and his father wasn’t around.
‘What’s her name?’ Melissa still only had eyes for the dog. Perhaps it was her way of dealing with the awkwardness of coming to the place where he lived after all this time.
‘This is Winnie,’ he smiled, glad of the shift of focus too. ‘Can I get you something to drink?’
‘That would be lovely, thank you.’
‘Tea? Or coffee? Or I could do you an elderberry tea.’
She looked surprised. ‘I never thought…’
‘That I’d keep up an interest in the elderberry bushes?’
‘Well…yes. I assumed that side of things would stop.’
‘Never, it’s part of this place.’
‘I suppose it is.’ Memories hung between them until he broke the silence.
‘Mum still enjoys coming over when the berries are ready to pick, we do it together.’
‘How is she?’
He thought about how his mum had tried to read his face earlier when he mentioned Melissa’s name. He’d shut her down quickly enough, he didn’t need to rake over the past – at least not with anyone other than Melissa. ‘She’s good, settled in her own cottage now rather than pottering around in this place. And she’s finally free of my father, so enough said…’
‘I’m glad she’s happy.’
‘She asked after you, she heard you were back in the village. She always liked you, you know that,’ he added when a strange look crossed her face. ‘Mum isn’t one to hold a grudge, no need to worry about that if you bump into her.’
Relieved, she accepted the offer of elderberry tea. ‘I remember your mum talking about how elderberries –’
‘Boost your immune system,’ he finished for her with a chuckle. ‘She said that all winter long. Who knows if it ever worked. But I’ve maintained the bushes, the berries are picked in season and dried out before freezing so we have plenty of supplies year-round.’
He set about the task of making her a cup of elderberry tea. He put a few teaspoons of dried elderberries into a glass teapot he didn’t often use but brought out if he had a guest, which he supposed she qualified as. He added a cinnamon stick the same way his mum always did, topped it up with boiling water and while it had a chance to steep on the table, found out two decent china cups. The last time he’d done this was about a month ago when Barney was convinced he was getting a summer cold. He’d come round for what was locally known as the Luddington go-to winter remedy even though the sun was almost on its highest rung of the ladder to the sky, the days were long, with not even a hint of autumn in the air.
‘Have you done much to the house?’ Melissa asked.
‘Nothing major. I repainted, carried out a few repairs, redid the floor in here, and the loft is a great additional space of course. I still go up there to listen to the rain hammering down on the roof some days.’ She’d know his memories of the loft and hiding out from his dad, he’d told her about it more than once.
While he poured the tea she went to the kitchen window and gazed out beyond the elderflower bushes to where trees lined the rear of the land that then dipped down so you couldn’t see any further. ‘It feels as though you’re in the middle of nowhere.’
‘That’s what I love about living here.’ He took both cups over to the table.
The second Melissa came to sit down again Winnie put a paw up onto her knee, demanding attention. Melissa put her hands either side of Winnie’s face and rubbed beneath her chin and around her ears.
‘Just tell me if she’s annoying you,’ he said.
‘Not at all. She’s got a lovely temperament from what I can see. I’ll bet she misses you when you’re at work every day.’
‘I think she does.’ He laughed as Winnie rolled over and Melissa was prompted to bend down and rub her tummy. ‘She’s got you wrapped around her little finger…or should I say paw?’
‘She’s adorable.’
‘She loves company. I have Gracie on hand to take her out for walks when I’m working longer hours, so that works well.’
‘Gracie from Hollyhock Cottage?’ She gave an appreciative nod when she tried the tea.
‘You remember her?’
‘Of course, she was finishing school and started work in the pub from what I remember.’
‘Well, she’s no longer at the pub, she’s working in Cambridge three days a week as well as studying.’
‘Good for her.’
‘So she can get away from the small-village life, you mean?’
‘Harvey, I –’
He sighed, irritated by his stupid comment. He wished he was better at letting things go rather than bottling them up. He guessed he’d got used to doing that when he was a kid and the habit had followed him. ‘That was unnecessary, I apologise.’
‘I came to talk some more about Barney.’ Winnie nudged her arm again and she laughed, this time focused on her tea while it was still hot.
‘I am sorry, it must be the long days. In the winter she’s happy to be inside by the fire, but in the summer she wants to be out all the time.’
‘Like someone else,’ Melissa remembered.
Thrown by her recollection of something else she knew about him, a part of his character, he focused his own attention on Winnie and got her a treat from the cupboard. Melissa was totally right, though, he’d loved to be outside as a kid, a teen, and still to this day. During the long summers of his childhood Harvey had left the house the second he woke, only going home when it was almost his curfew, and when his dad was away working he’d relished the freedom, staying out until night fell. His mum had given him free rein, knowing how imprisoned they all felt with his father around.
‘We could take Winnie for a walk,’ Melissa suggested, finishing off her tea. ‘It’s a lovely day for it now.’
‘Winnie wouldn’t care if it wasn’t…Gracie took her out in the belting rain this morning, said she loved every second.’
‘You strange thing,’ Melissa told Winnie. Her hair caught a shaft of sunlight, making it glow a deep red as she bent down again to rub the dog’s tummy. ‘What do you say, Winnie? Walk?’
‘Oh, you’ve done it now.’ Winnie’s tail was thumping against the floor, head raised, eyes looking from him to Melissa and back again. ‘Never mention the W word unless you’re totally serious.’
‘Of course I’m serious.’
Maybe a walk was a good idea. They could talk at the same time and it would certainly be a lot less awkward than this. He finished up his cup of elderberry tea too, the rest in the pot would keep. ‘Winnie, it’s your lucky day.’ All it took was picking up the lead and the jangle of the chain to send Winnie into a frenzy, chasing her own tai
l in excitement. When she was in this mood, getting the lead on wasn’t all that easy, but finally they bundled out of Tumbleweed House.
‘May I?’ Melissa asked, hand outstretched for the lead Winnie was tugging on in her enthusiasm.
‘Go for it, she’s strong though.’
Laughing, she agreed, as Winnie tugged her forwards and she wound the lead tighter. ‘Slow down, Winnie, anyone would think you’d never been outside.’
‘Have you been down to the cove yet?’ Harvey asked when they reached the top of the lane that led from his home up to The Street. On the left was the candle shop, on the right the tea rooms, and opposite was the chapel, adjacent to which lay the path they’d followed so often down to the sand and the sea together.
She cleared her throat. ‘Not yet. Is it still the same?’
‘Of course it is. Not much changes around here.’
‘I wondered whether flocks of tourists had found it.’
They began to cross over. ‘I think the brambles usually put them off, especially the lazy ones who won’t go anywhere without a car. Most tourists favour the car park further on from the village and the nice easy walk down to the beach.’ He surreptitiously glanced at her. ‘Why the hesitation about going down there? Don’t tell me you’re a city chick and you can’t clamber down to the sand anymore.’
‘Of course not. Just been a long time, that’s all.’
They’d often raced down there, laughing and panting hard by the time they jumped onto the golden sands. But he had to remember the pain she’d been in when she left the village, the reminders she faced being here every day. She’d hurt him by leaving and never coming back, and it was easy to be encompassed by that rather than anything else, but he could tell by her reaction to his question that this was harder than he’d realised it might be for her.
As they reached the top of the track he decided distraction was a good idea. ‘Can I interest you in an ice-cream? I’ve got some cash in my pocket. My treat.’
‘Sounds good to me.’
Melissa met Zara, who ran the ice-creamery, and with a chocolate honeycomb for each of them they set off for the cove.
Coming Home to Heritage Cove Page 12
