The Cottage of New Beginnings

by Suzanne Snow

  ‘Night. Sleep well.’

  Annie really didn’t want to find Sarah and thank her for the party, so she stole through the house and stepped quietly out of the front door. She walked as quickly as her shoes allowed, trying to put distance between herself, the party and most especially Jon. Her head began to pound as she skirted the village green, careful to keep her shoes out of the grass. She was so confused and unhappy she hardly noticed the darkness or that she had passed the top of her lane until she saw the eerie shape of a wooden footbridge straddling the river. She stepped onto it, shivering as she listened to the racing water. The moon was almost full, casting a ghostly light around her and illuminating the silver pools beneath her. She remembered the touch of his hand and the interrupted conversation on Sunday evening, and couldn’t believe how foolish and mistaken she had been.

  An owl, carrying something in its claws, swooped overhead and she flinched. Tendrils of hair trailed across her face and she impatiently reached up and removed the clip, allowing her curls to spill forward, adding to the darkness around her.

  She knew she was afraid of how Jon made her feel and the awful reality of another rejection lurched into her heart, when all she had craved from this new and yet familiar place was peace. She stumbled across the bridge, heading back as quickly as she could, her feet really hurting now in her high heels. She kept her eyes down and tried not to notice the strange, ethereal shapes looming from hedges and gardens with every frightened step she took, fearful of this whole other village that had emerged with the darkness.

  Annie was very relieved when her cottage eventually came into view and she saw the faint light from the study trying bravely to brighten the garden. She pushed at the gate with cold and shaking hands, and when it wouldn’t yield, she kicked it childishly, muttering as she staggered up the path. She hadn’t quite reached the front door when a silent figure, sitting in darkness on the step, moved suddenly and she screamed in terror.

  ‘Annie, it’s me.’

  She heard Jon’s quiet voice through the gloom, astounded to see him waiting outside her little house. Barely silhouetted by the light from the window above, his head was low, his arms resting on his knees. Even though she told herself he was the last person she wanted to see after all she’d just heard, she still had to fight the impulse to run and find comfort in his arms, encircled by his strength, and a rigid tension took possession of her body as her back stiffened.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.’ There was an unexpected gentleness in his voice when he spoke.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ She bent down to remove her shoes at last, unable to disguise the weariness in her voice, hardly noticing the cool stone against her sore feet as she walked towards him as fast as several glasses of champagne would allow. She rummaged through her bag to find her keys.

  ‘I just wanted to make sure you got home safely.’ He stood up, towering above her and she arched away from him as she opened the door. He picked up her discarded shoes, holding them out to her, and she took them with an ungracious snatch.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be with Sarah?’ Annie remembered how she had felt when he had first seen her this evening and had held her against him, for just those few moments at the party. She tried to chase the thoughts away, determined not to allow their memory to rekindle the heat on her skin.

  ‘Why would I be with Sarah?’ There was a reasonableness in his tone that didn’t match the weight of his question as their eyes held.

  ‘It’s her party, she wanted you there.’

  ‘I was there and now I’m not. I was worried about you.’

  Annie unlocked the door, shoving it open with her bare foot, wincing at the flash of pain in her toes. Handbag followed shoes in a discarded heap on the bottom stair. ‘Worried! You abandoned me the first opportunity you had!’

  ‘You’re a grown woman,’ Jon retorted and Annie was astonished by the sudden change in his manner. ‘I didn’t think you needed a babysitter, you seemed perfectly fine. I’m sorry if you saw it like that.’

  She knew he was right, but she was tired and the comment she’d overhead about his ex-girlfriend was still unsettling her and she couldn’t quite reach that level of reasoning just now. Instead, she reacted to his tone and her reply was sharp. ‘I only went to the damn party because you asked me.’ She closed her eyes the moment the remark slipped out, wishing she could open them again and find it had all been a dreadful dream. But her eyes were still shut as his low voice confirmed the reality all around her.

  ‘Annie…’

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ she said resentfully. She opened her eyes hastily as she heard him take a step closer.

  ‘Annie,’ he said softly. ‘Look at me, please?’

  She tilted her head back, trying to harden her heart against the tenderness in his expression. It became easier when she remembered how he had dismissed her at the party and she kept her face carefully blank as she faced him, shivering. Briefly there was silence around them and when he spoke, he sounded less certain than she had ever heard before.

  ‘I tried not to be envious of everyone who spoke to you,’ Jon said roughly, his hands clenched against his sides. She watched, incredulous, as a muscle flickered in his cheek. The tautness of his body was reflected in the depths of his eyes as he continued. ‘And if I had spent the whole evening by your side, every person there would have known how I feel. I’m not proud of behaving that way. I’m sorry.’

  She gaped at him in open-mouthed astonishment until he turned abruptly and strode down the path. He yanked the gate open, wrenching it from its hinges and leaving it sprawled in the long grass. Annie watched until he disappeared, trying to find the words to bring him back and make him explain. But he was gone, and it was a few minutes before she closed the door to the night, stunned by his admission.

  She took a mug of coffee upstairs, unable to think of anything other than Jon. By the time she had removed her make-up and slipped into bed she was feeling exhausted, confused and tearful. She tried to summon all the reasons why she wasn’t prepared to risk everything all over again, and in her mind, she saw Iain’s face as she tossed and turned. She remembered how she had felt when he had told her he was leaving and why, staring into the darkness until finally she fell asleep, terrified at the thought of being so vulnerable ever again.

  Chapter Ten

  Annie had forgotten how champagne always made her feel as she mooched around the house on Saturday morning, nursing a headache and a horrible churning sensation in her stomach, which she was sure had nothing to do with alcohol. It seemed an age since she had last worked on the cottage; so much had happened in just two days, and Jon was constantly in her thoughts as she cleaned the study, emptying the bookcases little by little and coughing through the dust. Afterwards she made some flapjacks and popped down to the farm to catch up with the Howards, pleased to see that Bill was recovering after the ordeal of his night on the fells last week.

  The rest of the day flew past and soon it was time to get ready for supper with Sam. After a lovely hot bath Annie dressed and ran downstairs to collect the pretty bunch of sweet peas she had picked from the garden as well as a lemon drizzle cake she had made earlier. The weather was changing so she grabbed a jacket as she stepped outside. Cool clouds were obliterating the warmth of the sun and she shivered, drawing the jacket tightly around her. As she reached the lane, she saw the gate still lying in the grass where Jon had left it last night and her heart squeezed at the abrupt reminder of him.

  The large vicarage nestled amongst tall yew trees casting shadows over the house. Facing the church, its huge bay windows overlooked the curved drive and a central, circular herbaceous border filled with sweet box, hydrangeas, geraniums and lady’s mantle. Borders following the curve of the drive were planted with viburnum, holly, pheasant’s tail grasses, ferns and more geraniums. Annie crunched along the gravel to the front door, wondering how such planting appeared so natural amongst the shade whereas her own garden
just looked tatty. She rang the bell and it was only a minute until Sam opened the door.

  ‘Hi, Annie.’ She smiled, standing aside to let Annie into the large, rectangular hallway. ‘I’m so pleased you’re here, come in.’

  Annie closed her eyes for a second in anticipation as the smell of supper wafted towards her. ‘Thank you, me too.’ She hadn’t really bothered eating lunch, and the cereal and toast at breakfast seemed a long time ago. ‘These are for you.’ Annie handed the flowers and cake tin to Sam, who held the sweet peas up to her face and sniffed them lingeringly. She switched her gaze to the cake tin and lifted the lid off, peering inside hungrily.

  ‘Oh wow, that looks gorgeous! Thank you so much, how kind. Having your company this evening is reward enough but these gifts are lovely. The cake will not last a minute once Charlie spies it. Come through.’

  Sam took Annie’s jacket and hung it on the newel post at the bottom of a wide staircase and Annie followed her along the hallway and down a corridor. The passage narrowed as they neared the back of the house and emerged into a large kitchen. Annie had been half expecting an old-fashioned room but there was nothing ancient about this space. She looked around with pleasure.

  ‘How beautiful,’ she exclaimed, realising immediately it would be a joy to cook in such a light and comfortable kitchen.

  ‘Thank you. We practically live in here really, as it’s south facing and lovely to sit in the sunshine on the patio in the evening.’

  Pale lemon walls were softened by cream units on two sides with a huge, duck egg blue Aga tucked into a space where once must have been a fireplace. A big oak table with eight cream leather chairs stood in the centre, still with lots of room around it, partly covered by a laptop, parish newsletters and a pile of books scattered at one end. Through a large window Annie could see the garden behind the house. It was almost as overgrown as her own, with plants spilling onto the lawn and shrubs, clearly out of control, disguising the view at the far end.

  ‘Don’t look at the garden,’ Sam said sheepishly, following Annie’s glance. ‘My sister-in-law, Flora, planted the front and she’s almost finished designing the back too. She’s a garden historian and can’t wait to get her hands on it. Do you mind if we eat in here?’ Sam went over to the Aga and carefully opened one of the oven doors. ‘We only really use the dining room if we can’t fit everyone at this table and I must confess I couldn’t be bothered to set it just for us.’

  ‘Of course not. I hope you haven’t gone to too much trouble. Here, let me.’ Annie dashed over and lifted a large dish from the Aga and set it on top of the simmering plate. She stood back as Sam came over and peered at it.

  ‘Good, that looks ready.’ Sam turned away to the fridge and pulled out a large bowl. ‘It’s just pesto chicken and penne casserole and salad, hope that’s okay?’

  Annie was nearly drooling as she looked at the bubbling cheese and breadcrumb topping, itching to grab a spoon and dig in. ‘Perfect, thank you. It looks absolutely gorgeous.’

  ‘Chianti or Sauvignon Blanc?’

  ‘Sauvignon would be great, thanks.’

  Sam poured the wine for Annie and a tall glass of sparkling water for herself as they sat down to eat, helping themselves and chattering throughout. The meal was wonderful, and Annie told Sam so as she reluctantly pushed her knife and fork together. Sam eyed her with a mischievous smile as she arched her eyebrows questioningly.

  ‘Thank you. But from what I’ve heard, you’re a really talented cook.’

  Annie squirmed uncomfortably, swallowing a gulp of wine before replying suspiciously. ‘What have you heard?’

  Sam reached over to fill Annie’s glass again. ‘Only that you were a big hit at Kilnbeck, and everybody loved the food. Don’t worry, it was Charlie who told me. He’s one of the volunteers, when time allows. He said that Jon would’ve liked to ask you to stay on for a few more days but he thought you wouldn’t have time with the move and school, and it wouldn’t be fair.’

  Annie stared at Sam. ‘I had no idea,’ she replied quietly, relieved that Jon hadn’t put her in a position she would have found difficult to resolve sensibly. ‘I’m not really that good. I just love cooking but haven’t done much of it for a while.’

  ‘Charlie’s out with Jon this evening actually, they and a couple of others have taken a group of young people to the cinema. They take it in turns to drive the minibus.’

  ‘Jon seems very involved with the community here.’ Annie stood up casually to clear away their plates, sensing Sam’s eyes on her.

  ‘He is, definitely – he sees it very much as part of his calling. He’s especially good with young people. They really respond to him.’

  Sam served dessert, meringues with summer berries and thick cream from the local dairy. They were silent as they ate, and then Annie finally replaced her spoon in an empty bowl.

  ‘Thank you so much, that was all fantastic,’ she said drowsily, the effects of a lovely meal and the wine beginning to weaken her senses. ‘I’ll clear up.’

  ‘No,’ Sam replied firmly, picking up the cream jug from the table and replacing it in the fridge. ‘Absolutely not, it’ll all go in the dishwasher later.’

  Annie noticed Sam was looking tired as she rubbed her back absently. Her bump seemed to be growing by the minute and it really didn’t look as though it would be too much longer until the baby arrived.

  ‘Please, Sam, let me.’ Annie pointed to a chair. ‘Why don’t you sit down? It won’t take long, and I wouldn’t like you to be up late doing it.’

  Sam rolled her eyes, but she obediently sat down and gave Annie a grateful look. ‘Thank you,’ she replied sleepily. ‘Just leave whatever’s messiest. Charlie will help. I’ll make coffee in a minute and we’ll have it in the sitting room.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Annie turned to look at Sam doubtfully as she rinsed plates under the tap. ‘I should go and let you get to bed.’

  Sam gently rested one hand on her bump, the other rising to cover a yawn. ‘No, I’m fine, honestly. Don’t go yet, please. It’s only just after nine.’

  Annie darted around quickly loading the dishwasher, wondering if she would ever be able to fit one into her own little kitchen. She switched the kettle on and glanced at Sam, whose eyes were closed as she stroked her bump dreamily. Annie found the coffee and measured spoons into the mugs that Sam had left ready on the dresser and followed her through to the sitting room, carrying the tray of coffee. The room was old fashioned and yet still beautiful, with decorative plasterwork on the ceiling above printed floral paper on the walls. Sam switched on two tall standard lamps and drew heavy plum-coloured curtains. A sudden gust of wind made them jump as the blustery branches on the trees outside smacked against the bay window.

  ‘Always sounds worse from inside the house, I think,’ Sam said, wrapping her hands around her mug. ‘There are one or two trees in the churchyard that need some attention. I hope they don’t come down in this storm. Charlie’s got a tree surgeon coming over on Monday to see what has to be done with them.’

  ‘How did you and Charlie meet?’ Annie asked curiously, happy to keep the subject of their conversation away from Jon. ‘Was it at church?’

  Sam shook her head, smiling wistfully as she wriggled the cushion beneath her feet. ‘Rugby. I have two older brothers who both played in the academy of a professional club with Charlie, and I’d usually go to matches to watch. I’d had a bit of a crush on Charlie for a couple of years and when I was seventeen he started to notice me after he came back from a tour of Australia. He’d just been selected for the first team but tore a knee ligament and was out for four months. We spent as much time together as we could while he was recovering.

  ‘I was doing A levels at college and volunteering with a church teaching drama to children, and Charlie started to come along. Unlike me he hadn’t grown up in a church family and started to really love everything about it – the people, the enthusiasm, the spirit of serving in communities, and he really felt the pull of
ministry.’

  ‘Wow. So, what happened next?’

  ‘I got a place at Lancaster to study drama and theatre, and we married and moved to Cumbria so Charlie could study part-time near me. He worked at an outdoor centre, which he loved. It was tough, with both of us studying, but we felt so blessed to be together.’

  Sam’s gaze drifted away to the fireplace, watching the flames. Annie knew she was remembering those first days of marriage and couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for them, as Sam carried on.

  ‘It was such a special time. Anyway, once he’d qualified and done all the placements, he was offered a curacy in Kendal and I taught in a secondary school nearby until the parish here became available and we moved to Thorndale. So here we are.’

  ‘Does Charlie still play rugby?’ Annie asked. The room smelt of hot smoky timber and coffee, and Annie could hear the crackling of the logs inside the grate as they fell apart.

  ‘No. He could usually manage to get to training at a club most weeks, but matches were a bit of a problem, not surprisingly. He plays cricket for the village team now. He still loves competitive sport and likes to keep fit. When I first knew him, I never dreamt he’d give up rugby for the church, he was so good. But he’s a wonderful vicar and he absolutely loves parish life, and so do I, in my own way, even though I had never imagined myself as a vicar’s wife. He’s very aware that his calling has a big impact on me and our relationship. We never take our time alone together for granted and he’s tremendously supportive of me and my job.’

  ‘Are you going back to work, after the baby is born?’

  ‘I plan to,’ Sam replied with a grin, stroking her bump gently. ‘My head says yes but my heart isn’t so sure. I’m going to have a year off and then we’ll see. Anyway, that’s enough about me. I want to hear a lot more about you. Charlie tells me that Jon mentions you quite often and lots of people in the village remember you from years ago.’