The Wishing Well

by Jilly Bowling

  “You’re ill and very weak so it’s permitted,” Roman smiled, then he kissed her again.

  There was a tap on the door and the nurse entered. Ignoring the fact that they’d been kissing she said “Good you’re awake, I’ll get you some water to wash your face and would you like a cup of tea, perhaps some toast or a biscuit?”

  “I must look terrible, I’d be grateful if I could wash my face and clean my teeth and I need the bathroom.”

  “I’ll get a commode, if you’ll just excuse us for a while Mr. Cowle?”

  Roman nodded “I’ll go and get you a magazine,” he said as he left the room.

  When he got back Bella was propped up on pillows, looking exhausted, but with her face washed, hair brushed and in a clean pretty nightdress. She smiled tentatively at him “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head “You should be!”

  “Oh,” she said flummoxed by his serious expression. Then he smiled and took her hand and her world settled right way up again.

  When the nurse returned with a pot of tea, two mugs and a plate of hot buttered toast he cleared the money off the locker, back into Bella’s money bag, so she could put the tray down.

  “Now then.” she said, “no more getting upset, You don’t want a relapse.”

  “She won’t be getting upset again. Thank you so much for all you’ve done today,” Roman gave her his sexiest smile and she blushed as she hurried out of the room.

  “You’re incorrigible,” Bella said slapping his arm, “poor girl, she didn’t know where to look.”

  He grinned, handed her the toast and poured out two cups of tea. “Concentrate on getting better,” he said. “It’ll be Christmas soon and I want you well for that.”

  * * *

  Bella was released from hospital two days later, with ten days worth of oral antibiotics, instructions to rest and on no account to go out in the cold. To Roman’s surprise she didn’t demur when he drove her to The Manor and installed her on the sofa in the snug while Mrs. B fussed around her with fleece throws and a hot water bottle for her feet.

  When Roman returned after collecting her things from the car she was wrapped up like a baby and Mrs. B was handing her a cup of tea. It was late afternoon, dark and drizzly outside and Bella was all too grateful to be fussed over. Roman had been given the ok to drive her straight back to Devon, as long as there would be someone to look after her for the next two weeks and he’d arranged for George to drive his BMW to London and drive the van back loaded with the items he wanted form the London house. Leaving Bella to doze with Misty curled up on the rug next to her he followed Mrs. B through to the kitchen.

  “As Bella will still be convalescing at Christmas I’ve decided to spend it quietly here,” he told her, “there’s no need for you to cancel your holiday with your family, but I’d be grateful if you could make up a lot of dishes for the freezer. I’m a hopeless cook, as you know and I don’t want Bella having to worry about anything other than getting better.”

  “No. If you are staying in Devon so am I. To be honest I get a bit fed up away from home, with nothing to do and having to eat my sisters cooking.”

  “But I thought you looked forward to the break.”

  “To be honest I come back more tired than I ever am here. The spare bed is lumpy, the house is always too hot and I do get bored with the same conversations for a week. My friends are here and I expect I’ll get invited to a few things if I’m here.”

  “Well” Roman hesitated, “if you’re sure. Bella would be upset if she thought you were just staying here because of her.”

  “I’m sure, now go and see if she wants another cuppa while I get on with dinner.”

  Chapter 17

  Roman studied the first draft of the plans for the barn conversion and nodded, pleased with the architects initial ideas. There were one or two things he’d like altered, if possible and he suspected that there would be some more once he’d shown them to Bella.

  It was the second week in January, Christmas had passed peacefully and Bella was almost back to full strength, she was still a bit chesty if she went out in the biting wind that rolled across the moor almost constantly at this time of the year, but she was working again, making stock for her studio. Now that she wasn’t having to meet a deadline, the things she made were becoming more and more special.

  Lucinda was coming down at the beginning of February, to collect a lot of things for her shop in London, after Bella had sent her photographs of each item as it was finished. She had promised not to put anything on ebay until Lucinda had decided what she’d take. January was usually quiet in retail, as all the big stores and online suppliers had their sales.

  Singing along to the music on radio Devon Bella had never felt happier. She was feeling like her old self, the plans for hers and Roman’s future were starting to come to fruition and spring was on its way. Christmas had been wonderful, Joy had persuaded them to join her and her family for Christmas lunch. The house had been full of friends and family and their children, the food was superb, Joy having cooked a goose and a turkey, and they’d played games in the evening. With Bella off the antibiotics she had been able to have wine with her lunch and a g and t in the evening, and when they went home to the cottage they had fallen into bed and made love into the small hours. Boxing day had been spent at The Manor with friends and neighbours popping in to an open house and late buffet lunch and that night they’d made love again before falling asleep entwined in each others arms.

  Mrs. B had spent Christmas day with friends and had been included in all the fun of Boxing day, declaring that she’d not had such an enjoyable Christmas for years.

  On New Years Eve they’d thrown a party for their friends and the estate workers, where, before the festivities had begun Roman had made a speech laying out what his plans were for The Manor, assuring all his employees that their jobs and homes were safe and the land and farms would carry on as normal. He’d already spoken to Mrs. B and George, telling them both they could continue to work at The Manor or retire on a good pension. Both had decided to retire, Mrs. B with the proviso that she would be the first to be called on should Bella need help with their new home or any children that might come along. Bella had blushed at the thought of children but promised that she would be included in their lives, and been mystified when Mrs. B declared “And from what I see that won’t be too long in a’coming.”

  When Roman drove the land rover onto the road in front of the barn and climbed out he smiled at the sound of the radio and Bella’s voice belting out `Gimee, gimee, gimee a man after midnight`. It was such a relief how well she’d recovered after her bout of pneumonia and how happy she was. Her fears of being left alone and penniless,again, had been assuaged by the fact she now knew she could sell the things she made and the healthy balance now showing in her bank account. Roman admired her independence and if they went out, would happily let her buy a round of drinks, or a present for him.

  As he entered the workshop he was greeted by Misty, who’d been lying on a rug in front of the old woodburner, and a smile from Bella who was busy grouting a mosaic frame round a large mirror. Holding her hands up she moved into his arms for a kiss, before saying, “I’m almost finished with this. Are those the plans we’ve been waiting for?”

  Taking the cardboard tube from under his arm he said “Yes, I think you’ll like them, although there are one or two things you might want to change.”

  “It’s so exciting, I never thought when I saw this place for the first time that anything like this could happen.”

  As she went back to smoothing the grouting over the mosaic Roman studied her. The way she felt inside made her skin, devoid of all makeup, glow, her hair, held back in a messy scarf, shone and her eyes were gleaming with happiness. Moving behind her he wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck, inhaling the scent of her. She giggl
ed, placed her white sticky hands over his and directed them to the grouting of the mirror frame. He closed his eyes as they played out their version of the pot making scene in the film `Ghost`, one of Bella’s favourite films. Then she started to sing `Oh my love my darling, I hunger for your touch` and they swayed together as their hands skimmed over the mosaic. Finally she stopped and Roman reluctantly opened his eyes to see that a lot of the grout had made it onto the mirror. “Well, that’s another fine mess you’ve gotten me into.”

  “It won’t take long to clear up,” Bella said, “will you hand me the kitchen roll?”

  He wiped his hands on the paper and handed her half a dozen pieces, watching as she deftly cleaned the glass and smoothed over the mosaic. “That’ll be alright,” she said, “I’ll just rub it over when it’s dry.

  “It’s really attractive, I love the way you’ve done it.”

  “Mmm, I’m quite pleased with the abstract design. Right, let’s go up to the cottage, have some lunch and look at the plans.”

  Locking the door behind them Bella led the way up to the cottage and round to the back door, taking the key out of her pocket as she did so. To her surprise the door was open wide and there was a pile of horse dung on the lean to floor. It was cold inside and on inspecting the Aga Roman discovered that it was out. Going through to the living room he found the woodburner door open and sparks from the piled up pine logs spitting out onto the fireside rug. He quickly stamped out the glowing bits of wood, shut the door and carried the smouldering rug outside.

  “What the hell is going on here?” he asked, then seeing that Bella was white and shaking he led her through to her chair in front of the fire. “Stay there while I see what’s wrong with the Aga,” he ordered.

  He shovelled the dung outside, closed the lean to and back door, inspecting the locks as to see if they’d been damaged, which they hadn’t, then inspected the Aga. The oil had been turned off at the tap so he switched it on and relit the pilot light. It fired up and the heating started to work, so he switched the kettle on, made a pot of tea, poured milk into two mugs and carried it all, on a tray, into the living room.

  Bella was still looking shaken so before he asked any questions he poured tea into the mugs and handed her one.

  “The locks on the door are intact and the Aga was turned off at the oil tap,” he said, “it’s a good job we came in when we did or the place would have caught fire, those pine logs must only be used with the door closed.”

  “I know, I never leave the door open.”

  “So, someone gained entry, deposited horse dung, turned off the oil tap and opened the woodburner door?”

  Bella was beginning to feel slightly hysterical, he thought she’d done it. Had she? Was she losing her mind like her mother? Then she shook her head refusing to let herself be weak.

  Straightening up she looked directly into his eyes and said, “I don’t lock the lean to door when I’m here, but I locked the back door, the Aga was working fine and the woodburner door was closed tight.”

  Roman frowned then he nodded “Well we need to call the police, these things don’t just happen.”

  “Yes, we’d better call them because this is not the first time something like this has happened.” Bella told him, then she went on to tell him everything, how she’d woken up up to a freezing house which was probably how she’d come down with pneumonia. Then because he was listening without comment she went on to tell him about her mother. When she told him about her last visit to the clinic, to her annoyance, her voice started to shake and despite her valiant effort to stop them tears flowed silently down her cheeks.

  Roman had sat quietly listening to her but as her voice shook and the tears flowed he stood up and paced around the room. Her story finished Bella watched him, dread building up inside. He looked so angry and she knew he was going to leave her. Why wouldn’t he? How could he marry someone who had madness in her family? What if any children they had weren’t normal? She closed her eyes waiting for the blow to fall. She felt him near her, then strong arms enveloped her as he kissed away her tears.

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” he asked gently.

  Although she was safe in his arms she was trembling like a leaf, her mouth was dry, but she managed to say “When we first got to know each other, I’d put my past to the back of my mind. With Gervaise it was safer to tell him both my parents were dead and that is how I came to think of them. Then when you told me you loved me it seemed to be too late. The doctors had told me it wasn’t an hereditary illness, but had probably been caused by a blow to my mother’s head when she was pregnant with me. I had been told that my father had left us before I was born and no one would say anymore, not even Aunt Lucy. When the doctors at the clinic told me it was better, for both of us, not to visit her anymore, I just had to forget about her and get on with my life.”

  Roman stood up and carried the tea tray back into the kitchen, where he refilled the kettle and put it back on to boil, he needed time to process what he’d just been told. He was extremely angry, partly with Bella, for not trusting him, and with whoever was trying to make her think she was losing her mind, like her mother. Tea made he carried the tray back into the living room along with some kitchen roll for Bella to blow her nose and dry her tears.

  She wasn’t there, but he could hear retching noises coming from the bathroom. He found her on her knees in front of the toilet, her stomach heaving as she retched up yellow bile. He stood and rubbed her back, not too sure what to do except just be there for her. Finally she stopped heaving, wiped her mouth on some toilet roll and pulled the flush. He helped her to her feet and waited while she cleaned her teeth and washed her face, then as she turned from the sink he gathered her into his arms.

  “Sweetheart, I wish you’d told me,” he murmured, “it’s obvious that someone is trying to make you think you’re crazy. If you’d told me about someone trying to give you hypothermia we could have told the police and had it investigated, and you would have seen a doctor before the pneumonia got too bad.”

  She nestled into him “I’m sorry, please don’t be angry with me.”

  “I’m furious with you,” Roman said seriously, “when are you going to trust me? For the umpteenth time I’m not Gervaise. I love you and I’m proud of you. I thought you were strong and independent and I admire that in you, but you’ve got to let me in sometime or we won’t make it.”

  Bella bit her lip “I do trust you Roman, but I think I locked my childhood and my mother away, even from myself. Then when I woke up that morning and couldn’t remember going to bed the night before or what I’d done after I took those two paracetamol I doubted myself” then she pulled away from him and frowned “Did you leave a bottle of paracetamol on the bench in the kitchen?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I thought it was funny that morning when I remembered taking two out of a bottle in the kitchen. I searched for it but it wasn’t there. You see, I buy the cheap paracetamol in boxes from the supermarket and never buy them in a bottle. Perhaps someone put something else in, instead of paracetamol.”

  Roman led her into the living room “Bella, if only you’d said something we could have found out if there was anything strange in your blood.”

  “God! Like poison do you mean?” her hand was trembling as she accepted the mug of tea he’d poured out for her.

  “No, but it could have been sleeping pills, to make sure you didn’t wake up if Misty barked or you felt cold.”

  “My mouth had an awful taste in it,” Bella said, “but who would do that to me. Louisa is in a clinic and I can’t think of anyone else who hates me.”

  Roma pondered for a while, then musingly said “I wonder what clinic she’s in.

  “Why?”

  He shrugged “Nothing, just wondered, that’s all. Anyhow we’ll call the police, tell them what we know. After t
he gun incident I should think they’ll take it seriously, but you must promise, my love, no more secrets.”

  As he held her close she said “I promise.”

  “Good, I’ll phone the police now,” he said picking up the house phone.

  By the time the police arrived, a solitary constable and his dog, the lean to floor had been washed, the cottage was warm and cosy and one of Mrs. B’s casseroles was heating in the oven. Bella was looking and feeling better, although a little white after her bout of sickness, which she out down to nerves and they were looking at the plans for the barn conversion, spread out on the dining table. The constable took some notes, looked at the locks and the tap on the Aga. “Pity you turned it back on as you’ve probably erased the miscreants fingerprint.”

  Roma grimaced “It was so cold in here I just didn’t think of evidence. My fiance’s had pneumonia, caused, I think by the previous incident and I just wanted to warm her up.”

  “It would have been a long chance anyhow,” the constable shrugged, “I’ll give you an incident number and if anything else occurs telephone us immediately.”

  He went off leaving them wondering if it had been worth the phone call as they returned to their perusal of the plans.

  Chapter 18

  February came in cold and wet, with an occasional snow fall on the moor, but daylight hours grew longer and the first signs of spring appeared in sheltered pockets where snowdrops bloomed. Planning permission had been granted for the barn conversion and by the following week should be granted for the change of use at The Manor, local councillors agreeing that the plans to make it into a conference centre and wedding venue would be good for the area.

  One dry bright day they drove up to Exmoor to visit snowdrop valley, the ground, on either sides of the paths they walked, white with the hardy but delicate looking harbingers of spring.

  “You know” Roman said as they wandered the woodland tracks, “we could make that old deciduous piece of woodland into an area like this. They get people from everywhere coming here just to see the snowdrops. It would bring guests to The Manor at a quiet time of the year.”