The Cottage of New Beginnings

by Suzanne Snow

  Downstairs, feeling nervous, Annie fished a bottle of champagne from the fridge, hoping it would do as a suitable house-warming present, and switched on a lamp in the study. She glanced out of the window and her heart seemed to leap into her mouth as she saw Jon heading up the path to the door. She was very tempted to run and hide but instead, when he knocked, she went into the hall and opened the door.

  ‘Hi,’ she said self-consciously, feeling suddenly shy as she hovered in front of him, clutching the champagne. She hadn’t really wanted to arrive at the party alone, but she was beginning to think it would have been preferable now that he was actually here, certain his gaze was taking in every detail. Annie read the approval and more in his expression before he spoke.

  ‘You look beautiful.’ He reached out to take the bottle and her mouth dried up as Jon’s eyes slipped slowly down the length of her body until she felt the heat of his look imprinted all over her. He was wearing well-cut, smart black jeans and grey suede Chelsea boots with a flattering white Dover cotton shirt and the ever-present pager on his belt. Annie was finding it very difficult to ignore the suggestion of a broad and muscled chest underneath as she breathed in the citrus scent of his cologne and fought the impulse to reach up and touch his face. His dark hair was barely tidier than usual, and she knew the dishevelment was deliberate.

  ‘Thank you,’ she muttered, turning around to lock the door. It was a perfect summer evening, and she tried to subdue the unease twisting her nerves into knots as they walked slowly through the village. Annie wondered if every curtain was twitching ready to make gossip as she imagined curious eyes upon them. It was obvious that something exciting was happening as more and more people trickled into Sarah’s beautiful house overlooking the green. A harassed-looking man with a large bald patch and an ill-fitting suit was directing traffic towards the car park just around the corner.

  Jon grinned, his eyes following the traffic. ‘Hope Sarah’s got permission for that.’ He waved to somebody across the green, and Annie smiled. ‘Jerry Gordon’s a stickler for procedure – he’ll have the whole lot clamped if she’s not careful.’

  Through the open front door she saw guests swarming through the house, greeting one another with kisses, hugs, and handshakes. She thought worriedly of Sarah’s insistence that the party was only for a few friends and neighbours; there seemed to be lots of people there already and Annie wasn’t sure if she was more afraid of Jon leaving her alone or remaining by her side. She saw Sarah laughing as she handed an empty glass to a waiter and felt the reassuring pressure of Jon’s body against hers as they walked inside. He looked down and gave her a quick wink, and her stomach leapt.

  Chapter Nine

  When Sarah spotted them, she wriggled through the people around her and hurriedly came over to greet Jon, sliding her hands onto his shoulders and kissing the corner of his mouth. Much easier if you’re five foot ten in heels, Annie thought grumpily, knowing she was being ungracious and very possibly just the tiniest bit jealous. Sarah barely looked at Annie until Jon slipped an arm around Annie’s shoulders and drew her alongside him. Sarah took the bottle of champagne he offered, making a huge fuss over it until Jon reminded her that it wasn’t from him. She nodded blandly at Annie as she handed it to a nearby waiter.

  Sarah was wearing the most beautiful dress of the palest blue, strapless and carefully embellished, the slim fit and slightly flared skirt perfectly flattering her height and swept-up blonde hair. Annie admitted privately that Sarah looked ravishing, certain the effect was all intended for Jon; Sarah had barely taken her eyes off him in the minutes since he and Annie had arrived.

  They followed Sarah through the house into a huge orangery, already full of chattering people clutching drinks and piling plates with food from the tables outside as they mingled together, the sound of laughter carrying on the night air. Caterers were wilting over hot barbeques in the perfectly landscaped garden, sheltered from the moor above by a row of ancient oak trees and a high stone wall. Annie realised some of the guests were staring at her and Jon curiously, mostly women eyeing Jon with interest and obviously wondering who the tall, handsome man was. She was beginning to feel like a naughty schoolgirl trailing around after the prefects.

  ‘Let me get you a drink,’ Sarah shrieked over the noise of the DJ revving up on the terrace, reaching back to take Jon’s arm once again. She grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, managing to point one at Annie while still gazing at Jon.

  ‘No, thank you,’ Annie heard him say, his voice raised. He bent down, one hand momentarily on Sarah’s shoulder to emphasise his point. ‘I don’t drink alcohol.’

  Annie added this new information to her growing list of surprising facts concerning Jon Beresford as Sarah was forced to disappear in search of something else for him, and Annie saw the flash of annoyance on her face as she hunted down another waiter. Jon half turned to Annie, briefly placing his hand on the small of her back to draw her closer and bent his head to speak into her ear.

  ‘You smell amazing,’ he murmured. The warm touch of his fingers against her dress felt as though he was caressing her bare skin, and a tantalising heat inched up her back and stole along her arms, leaving her distracted and hot.

  The moment was lost when a loud voice nearby snatched Jon’s attention, and Annie saw him grin as a stern-looking woman with short grey hair came over to say hello. Jon introduced her to Annie as Brenda Chapman, one of his tenants in the village. Even though he was no longer touching her Annie sensed the imprint of his tall frame against her side once more as somebody edged into him and he didn’t move away. The back of his hand drifted against her thigh as he steadied himself and he caught her eye, smiling suddenly.

  Her attention wandered as Brenda began to bend his ear about the number of teenagers lounging around the village, and then Annie did a double take when she spotted a famous young actor laughing in the garden, the centre of his group. Suddenly it dawned on her why Sarah Holland seemed familiar. Annie was a bit vague on the details but thought she had seen her playing a doctor in some daytime soap or other. When Sarah fought her way back to Jon once again with a glass of something non-alcoholic, she insisted on dragging him immediately away to meet somebody ‘very useful to you, darling’. Annie felt an unwelcome coolness beside her as he excused himself politely, trying not to follow him with her eyes and wishing she didn’t mind his leaving her so much.

  Brenda introduced her to another couple recently arrived in the village. Neil and Angie Dawson had moved up from Surrey and taken over the post office, leaving behind a horrible daily commute to London and most of their furniture. They told Annie they wanted to spend more time together as a family, although their teenage daughter, Cara, didn’t really see it quite like that just yet. She was convinced her parents had moved her to a primitive land almost beyond the reach of social media and shopping centres, Neil explained, although she had been a bit more cheerful since she’d started working in the shop. Annie realised then that it had been Cara who had served her the other day, smiling inwardly as she guessed the reason for Cara’s cheerfulness had everything to do with the presence of the tall, thin boy.

  Brenda left them to go on the prowl in search of a local councillor whom she was certain had escaped into the darkest depths of the garden with someone who wasn’t his partner. Annie tried to keep her face straight but failed when she caught Angie’s eye, and they both laughed as Brenda marched away, determined to right another wrong. Neil disappeared to bring food and Annie chatted with Angie while he was gone. There was still no sign of Jon, and Annie smiled in welcome relief as she saw Charlie and Sam making their way over, a beam of happiness already lighting up Sam’s merry face. Charlie was forced to pause, collared by somebody Annie thought she recognised as Jerry Gordon, the local neighbourhood watch coordinator or village busybody, as she had heard people call him. Charlie caught her eye and winked, and she tried not to laugh.

  ‘Hi,’ Sam called breathlessly, shoving her way past a ga
ggle of screeching girls knocking back champagne like pop. She seemed to have a natural ability to brighten a room just by being in it. ‘What a scrum! Come on, let’s find a seat somewhere. I can’t stand up all evening, I’m saving my feet for dancing.’

  Annie excused herself, allowing a quick backwards glance as they headed into the noisy garden. Her heart plummeted as she spotted Jon with a group of people in the drawing room, Sarah by his side. They made a striking couple and Annie felt completely out of her depth. She turned away, certain that he wouldn’t have even noticed her. Sam found them a bench further down the garden, and Annie handed their empty glasses to a waiter and grabbed refills, passing Sam the fruit punch.

  Sam made a face as she reached for the glass. ‘Thanks. It’s lovely but I’d rather be having the same as you.’

  Annie laughed and took a big gulp of champagne. The bubbles exploded on her tongue and she spluttered uncomfortably as the fizz threatened to pause her ability to breathe. Sam grinned as she handed Annie a tissue to wipe her eyes.

  ‘I should probably stick to fruit punch too,’ Annie said, hoping her waterproof mascara hadn’t run. Despite the dozens of citronella candles lit to drive away midges, tiny insects fluttered around them and she was tempted to go and huddle with the smokers at the bottom of the garden.

  ‘I love your dress,’ Sam said, raising her voice above the music. ‘It’s so gorgeous on you. I can’t help wondering if I’ll wear anything with a waist ever again.’

  Hiding a wince, Annie remembered the reason she had bought the dress in the first place and felt wretched suddenly, wondering why she had made the effort when she was so determined to avoid him. She changed the subject, afraid of giving away too much. ‘Thank you. How are you? You look fantastic, Sam.’

  Sam was wearing a beautiful wrap dress, cut to flatter her curvy figure while casually emphasising her growing bump and another pair of Doc Martens, floral this time. ‘Oh, absolutely fine, thanks. I just feel as though I’m spreading in every direction and walking with a wobble.’ They both laughed at that, their eyes meeting with the warmth of the friendship growing between them.

  ‘So, who’s who?’ Annie asked, leaning closer to Sam as she tried not to raise her voice too much. ‘I’d heard it was supposed to be just a few friends and neighbours. Did I really just see the utterly gorgeous Jed March? Wasn’t he in Stranger Things?’

  Sam leant back on the bench to peer around the garden and scan the various groups of dazzling showbiz people and the locals scattered around it. ‘And I’d heard that you were invited at the particular insistence of another guest.’

  Annie’s face fell as she sensed Sam’s inquisitive and perceptive glance upon her again. ‘It wasn’t my idea,’ Annie said hastily. ‘Anyway, I asked first!’

  ‘It was indeed Mr March, and he’s causing quite a stir amongst the younger members of our community with his occasional sightings, although most of them haven’t been invited tonight. I don’t get it myself, super cool boys who spend more time in front of the mirror than I do have never been my type. Anyway, he turned up with some friends and an on/off girlfriend in tow so we can no doubt expect to see it plastered all over Instagram. Sarah’s allegedly one of his exes, but she’s got a new show to promote and I suppose the only thing worse than bad publicity is no publicity. I think she’s only invited us lot just so she can show the ordinary folk of the village how the other, more glamorous, half live.’

  Annie giggled, already realising that everything seemed much more irreverent when it came from Sam. But even so, it was a very glamorous party and Sam’s company apart, she would still much rather be tucked up at home than stuck here. Especially as Jon had invited her and then promptly deserted her for Sarah and her friends.

  ‘Apparently Sarah thinks that village life is the new London.’ Sam waved her arm airily, brushing a clematis trailing down from the wall above them. ‘And she’s still single and seems to have decided it’s time she found a country gent to accessorise the country house. Sorry, I’m being bitchy, and I shouldn’t. Let’s just say she’s got her eye on somebody local. And here he is. Hi, Jon, we were just talking about you.’

  Annie’s gaze flew up and she saw Jon approaching them. She took another huge slug from her glass as she digested Sam’s comment, wondering how much Jon had heard, and her face flamed at the thought of him realising they had been gossiping. He bent down to kiss Sam’s cheek and straightened up, turning to look at Annie as he spoke. She noticed, even in the coming darkness, the hint of a smile softening his face amongst the shadows.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked casually. Annie nodded fiercely, determined not to betray her disappointment that he had not remained with her. She couldn’t believe she had almost allowed herself to think that her being here this evening had mattered to him. ‘Can I bring either of you a drink or some food?’

  ‘No thank you.’ Annie reached down to deposit her glass on the stone paving. She stood up and grabbed Sam’s hand. ‘We were just about to dance.’

  It was the last thing she wanted to do, even though Sam followed her enthusiastically. Annie glanced over her shoulder as they reached the dance floor, but Jon had already disappeared. Irrationally she was angry with him and even more with herself for feeling so crushed. The DJ launched into Scissor Sisters’ I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’, and Annie began to feel better as the music took over. She hoped she didn’t look like a geriatric aunt at a wedding as she watched a group of wildly fashionable girls dancing nearby, their endless legs revealed by tiny skirts. She smiled at Sam apologetically as they were repeatedly pushed together, watching a villager throwing some shapes Annie felt he’d need a physio to get him out of, utterly oblivious to the cynical amusement of the younger guests. Annie collapsed into laughter when Sam hissed that it was the missing councillor and his dance partner definitely wasn’t his actual partner.

  Annie stole a quick peek back towards the house and saw Jon, for once alone, leaning against a wall tucked in the shadow of the orangery. Their eyes met as he stared at her. She couldn’t read his expression in the fading light and defiantly looked away, determined to show she was having a good time without him. After three more songs Sam pleaded exhaustion and sank onto a seat as Annie went in search of Charlie to take Sam home. Annie lowered her gaze to avoid catching anybody’s eye as she stepped back inside the house. But she did have to stop and speak to Brenda Chapman, who wanted to know what Annie thought of her new school’s latest results. Surprised, Annie answered as reliably as possible and excused herself; she still hadn’t found Charlie and she knew Sam was tired. She spotted Jon in the hallway talking to a woman beside him and wanted to disappear before he noticed her.

  Annie shot through the nearest door and found herself in the empty dining room. The French doors were open, leading to a secluded terrace hidden from the main garden. The din of the party was momentarily quietened, and she was about to creep away when she realised someone was huddled on the terrace, speaking quietly to a companion. Annie paused, startled, as Jon’s name was mentioned. She clutched the door in the darkened room, hating herself for eavesdropping and yet unable to leave.

  ‘What’s his name?’ It was a woman who made the request.

  The man’s voice carried easily to Annie, still hidden inside. ‘Jonathan Beresford. It’s pretty obvious that Sarah has set her mind on trying to become the next Lady Beresford.’

  ‘How well do you know him?’

  ‘Not very, our paths have crossed once or twice on business and I’ve shot on the estate with his father. I doubt if Sarah has seen much beyond his looks, money and position. He’ll inherit Vivian’s baronetcy eventually. Jon’s supposedly been single for quite a while but I’m not sure Sarah’s going to be the one to change all of that. He’s very driven by his faith and his work here. She’s convinced herself he hasn’t made a move on her yet because of some rumour to do with his ex, the one who went off and got married.’

  ‘I heard at work that she would’ve cancelled if he had
n’t been able to come tonight so she must be pretty keen. Do you think the party’s for him?’

  Annie heard laughter and saw the quick flare of a cigarette being lit. ‘Probably. But she’s in a foul mood. Jon persuaded her to invite somebody else at the last minute, and then he turned up with this girl in tow.’

  ‘Ah, so that’s who she is. Very pretty. No wonder Sarah’s cross.’

  ‘She shouldn’t be. He told Jed he had only invited the girl because she’s just arrived in the village and doesn’t socialise much. They’re not seeing each other. Jed got the distinct impression that Jon’s just not interested. He was pretty dismissive about her.’

  Appalled and knowing it served her right, Annie crept out before she heard anything else and bumped straight into Charlie as she closed the door. Hurriedly she tried to drag her jumbled thoughts into place. ‘I’ve been looking for you,’ she stammered, clutching his arm as he steadied her, determined not to betray what she had just learned. ‘Sam’s outside, she needs to go home.’

  ‘Are you all right, Annie? You look a bit pink.’

  ‘It’s the heat,’ she replied breezily, anything to avoid having to confess to what she had just heard. She tugged at his arm, pulling him alongside her. ‘Come on.’

  Despite the noise all around, Sam was practically asleep when they found her, and Annie watched as Charlie carefully helped her to her feet, his tenderness evident in the way he took care of Sam.

  ‘Would you like to come to the vicarage for supper tomorrow evening?’ Sam asked impulsively as she leant on Charlie’s arm. ‘Charlie’s going out. It’ll be just us.’

  ‘I’d really like that, thank you.’ It was true but all Annie wanted to do at this moment was escape the horrid party and climb into bed.

  ‘I won’t promise to spend all day slaving over the stove,’ Sam called as they walked away, and Annie heard Charlie laugh. ‘But don’t bring anything, see you about seven. Good night, thanks for the dance.’