‘I’ve been thinking,’ Gracie said over breakfast.
Lizzie looked over the top of her mug. A good strong cup of coffee was banishing her sleepiness, and it had always been hard to stay angry with Gracie for long. It was part of the reason that she could be so frustrating, because even if you had a perfect right to be annoyed with her and you really wanted to, you’d find it impossible to sustain. So when her sister had joined her for an earlier-than-expected morning drink, Lizzie had found herself gradually dragged into Gracie’s sunny world when she’d been determined to stay under her own comfy little rain cloud.
‘Don’t exert yourself,’ she said.
Gracie folded her arms with a pout. ‘Well, I won’t tell you what it is I’m thinking if you’re going to be like that,’
‘Sorry.’ Lizzie laughed. ‘I really want to know what it is, please tell me.’
Gracie smoothed her irked features. ‘I was thinking you don’t get much time on your own with Jude.’
‘Right…’
‘And partly that’s because I’m here now.’
‘Well, yes, partly it’s because we have Charlie to think about too. It’s not so easy for Jude to just leave him, and he doesn’t get a lot of help.’
‘Yes, exactly,’ Gracie said, getting more animated now. ‘That’s what I’m trying to say!’
Lizzie shook her head, nonplussed.
‘You know how Charlie’s always going on about Harriet?’ Gracie continued. ‘I mean, he’s completely and utterly in love with her, isn’t he?’
‘Yes…’ Lizzie replied slowly, wondering where exactly this was going.
‘But she can’t be there all the time for him because she has a baby of her own – right?’
‘Artie’s more of a toddler, as far as I know, but—’
‘So you might need a Harriet Two? A spare Harriet?’
‘I don’t know—’
‘That’s me!’ Gracie squeaked triumphantly. ‘I could be the spare Harriet!’
‘But you’re—’
‘Doing nothing much right now. I mean, I have my business to get off the ground and as soon as the work starts to come in I’ll have to look after that, but…’
Lizzie thought better than to mention that so far the setting up of Gracie’s new business venture had got no further than doodling new logos on her telephone message pad and buying a page on a hosting website, but she thought better of it. After all, it seemed, in her own cock-eyed way, Gracie was trying to do something nice for her. Perhaps it would lessen Harriet’s influence in the lives of Charlie and Jude too, though Lizzie tried not to think about how much that might please her.
‘But while all that’s getting off the ground…’ Gracie was still going, and Lizzie forced herself to pay attention, ‘I could be getting to know Charlie better; getting used to his ways and then I could look after him. And I’d be much more fun than Harriet because I’d have time to take him for days out and such.’
‘How do you come to that conclusion?’ Lizzie sipped at her coffee. ‘You’ll have a business to run.’
‘Harriet works too.’
‘For her family. I don’t suppose they’re very strict bosses.’
‘True.’
‘And she has a baby.’
‘Toddler…’
‘Still, he takes lots of time and attention. I don’t have that to worry about.’
Lizzie resisted the impulse to narrow her eyes. It might well imply that she suspected an ulterior motive to her sister’s suggestion and perhaps that was doing Gracie a grave disservice. However, she couldn’t deny there was a certain appeal in the idea of Gracie usurping Harriet from her throne.
‘It’s very nice of you,’ she said instead. ‘And I know Charlie really likes you.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ Gracie smiled brightly. ‘So it would be a good idea?’
‘If Jude was alright with it I don’t see why not. It would take the pressure off him a bit, and it would mean we could have some more time alone. But don’t be offended if he says no – Charlie needs particular care and someone who knows how to give that, and he might not feel comfortable leaving it to someone who’s not used to Charlie.’
‘I am used to Charlie – a little bit anyway. I’m sure it would be OK.’
‘And are you sure you’re up to it?’
‘Of course I’m up to it. I’d probably do a better job than Harriet because I’ve got nothing else to worry about.’
‘But Charlie’s known Harriet for a long time so he’s far more used to her.’
‘Do you think she’ll have more children with this new guy she’s seeing?’
‘I have no idea!’ Lizzie said with a laugh. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘If she has more she’ll absolutely be too busy to help out with Charlie and then I’ll be able to step up.’
‘Why so interested in Charlie all of a sudden?’
Gracie shrugged. ‘He’s sweet. I was always quite nervous around… you know… people with disabilities before. Now that I know him, he’s lovely and lots of fun. And I suppose I just want to feel important to someone. It must be nice to feel someone needs you.’
‘I’m not sure Charlie would need you exactly, but he’d always be glad of a new friend. He’s about the friendliest kid I’ve ever met.’
‘Exactly. Friends make him happy, so I would make him happy and I’d be important to him, right?’
Lizzie sipped her coffee.
‘I’ll talk to Jude,’ she said.
‘Brilliant!’
Lizzie drained the last of her coffee. ‘I suppose I should get something done,’ she said. She ran a critical eye over her sister. ‘Are you going to be alright today if I’m not around much?’
‘What do you mean?’ Gracie asked, swallowing her water down.
‘Well, this morning… you seem a bit under the weather – not quite yourself. And I heard the bathroom door going a few times early this morning. I thought you might be a bit…’
‘Oh, that. I just needed the toilet. Anyway, I’ve got to go,’ Gracie said, cutting her off. ‘So much to do, I need an early start.’
‘Like what?’
Gracie tapped the side of her nose. ‘That’s for me to know and you to find out.’
‘Does that mean you’re going out today?’
‘For most of it, yes.’
If she’d been alone Lizzie would have punched the air. A whole day without Gracie. Obviously, it wouldn’t be a day of peace alone relaxing while all the drilling and sawing and banging happened in the mill across the way, but still…
‘What are your plans?’ Gracie asked.
‘The same as every day, I expect. Listen to Tim Lundy tell me the build is going to cost even more money and that the finish has now been moved to just before the sun explodes and swallows the earth. And with that distraction, sit at my computer and try to earn some actual money to pay for it all. The usual.’
‘Do you think we ought to invite Mum to dinner? To celebrate us moving in together?’
‘When?’
‘Whenever you say. Tell me when you’ve had time to check your diary.’
‘We can if you like.’
‘Great! And I can organise it!’ Gracie smiled fondly at her. ‘You know, I do love being here now. In fact, I have the best feeling about it all. Later, we should talk about what we’re going to do with the mill when it’s finished.’
Lizzie tried to ignore the we’re in Gracie’s last sentence, hoping it wasn’t a Freudian slip. Was Gracie somehow getting the idea that their current domestic arrangement would continue once the mill was habitable? Lizzie certainly hadn’t said anything she could think of that would have given such an impression, and it wasn’t what she wanted at all. Magnolia Mill was her house – hers alone. Maybe one day she’d move a partner in (maybe that partner would be Jude and she was hopeful for that), and maybe one day even more distant she’d raise a family there, but until that day it would be her sanc
tuary. Lizzie loved Gracie but she didn’t want to live with her permanently. Surely Gracie got that?
Gracie skipped over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I’ll be off out then, before your charismatic life-and-soul-of-the-party builder gets here. I really can’t bear to look at his face for another day – he’s like a saggy beer-soaked Eeyore.’
Lizzie chortled. ‘I must admit looking at him even makes me a little depressed.’
‘I don’t know how you can bear to have him around the place.’
‘But he’s a good builder and that’s the most important thing.’
‘Even though he keeps charging you more money and telling you the job is going to take longer?’
‘I don’t think those things are his fault, and honestly I have a feeling other builders would be twice as bad.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I can’t swap him now – he’s too far into the build and too indispensable – he knows exactly what’s what.’
‘I suppose he must,’ Gracie said. She waved an airy hand. ‘Ciao!’
‘See you later.’ Lizzie smiled, watching her disappear to her bedroom. But then she was distracted by the sound of van engines and she looked to the window to see Tim Lundy’s van pull onto the drive.
‘Time to start another day of toil, eh, Eeyore?’ she said softly with a broad smile. She didn’t want Gracie as a permanent feature, but she had to admit that, sometimes, she rather liked having her around.
FOURTEEN
While Tim and his crew were hard at work on the mill for what seemed like the millionth day of this interminable build, Lizzie was finding ways to take her mind off talk of hurdles to the new central heating system that she’d proposed and the odd shape of the windows, which didn’t lend themselves to any cheap kind of glazing. So she was currently on the phone to a lady named Janet, who owned a working mill fifty miles along the coast. If she was going to get hers working, then she needed all the help and advice she could get, and who better to approach than someone who was already doing it? Sort of anyway, because Janet’s mill – Kestrel Mill – was open to tourists only and wasn’t inhabited by the family who owned it. They made their own flour to sell in the mill shop, and they baked their own goods in the kitchens below the sails, but the section that would have once housed a miller and his family was now a tiny museum showing just how they would have lived, while Janet and her brood were safely tucked away in a property a mile down the road.
‘It’s really good of you to spare the time to talk to me about this,’ Lizzie said.
‘Not at all. It’s lovely to see someone else is passionate about conserving our heritage. There are so many of these buildings going to wrack and ruin. In fact, I have to let you into a secret… when I first had the idea to buy a mill, I looked at yours as a possibility.’
‘You did? And what decided you against it?’
‘Partly the location – it was just a little further from home than I wanted – and partly because it looked so dilapidated that I decided only a madman – or woman – would take it on.’
Lizzie grinned. ‘That would be me then – named and shamed. Apparently the people around here nicknamed it Mad Lady Mill. That must have been what they meant.’
‘Oh, I might know something about that,’ Janet said. ‘Nobody’s told you the story?’
‘Well, no… I didn’t think there really was a story.’
‘I don’t know how long ago, but the miller who owned it at that time had a daughter. They’d lived together alone there after her mother had died. Apparently the daughter got pregnant out of wedlock by a highly undesirable man – at least the miller hadn’t been very keen. There was some kind of stand-off – not altogether sure whether it was pistols at dawn or fisticuffs or what – but the young man killed her father in the altercation. She went mad with guilt, lost the baby and spent years wandering around the mill wailing like a wraith, hair wild, dresses torn. Nobody could talk to her, and she saw visitors off with an old sword. So the story goes. It’s all very madwoman in the attic, isn’t it? If it’s not true it’s a terrific story to sell the place to visitors.’
Lizzie laughed. ‘God, I don’t know about that. Maybe if I’d known all that I wouldn’t have been so keen to buy it myself.’
She tried not to think about mad girls floating about the house wailing and looking a bit like Marley’s ghost.
‘So, you’d like to pop over and see Kestrel Mill working? I’m sure it would help to get a solid vision for your own place.’
‘You don’t mind me opening up Magnolia Mill? I wouldn’t be treading on your toes in term of visitors? I mean, we’re only fifty miles apart and if I thought for a minute—’
‘I think fifty miles is far enough to afford us both a decent living. What are you planning to do exactly?’
‘Well, I suppose I’d had some very similar ideas to you. I wanted to sell the flour, but I also wanted to bake artisan bread – different varieties with different kinds of flour – to sell in the shop. I don’t know about a café because I don’t know how I’d run it yet and my catering experience is limited. I plan to go on a bread-making course – if there is such a thing – but it’s something else I need to research—’
‘I could teach you some basics if you were able to visit when the mill is closed.’
‘You could? That would be amazing! You’re sure it would be no bother?’
‘None at all. My family say I’d bore anyone to death talking about bread given half a chance so I’d love to go through some basics with you. It might be enough to get you started or even help you decide whether it’s the right way for you to go or not. I would imagine people would still visit the mill even if you weren’t producing anything just for the historical value – if visitors are what you’re after.’
‘Well, the tourism is secondary really. What I want to do is make the bread, but I need visitors to buy it – otherwise, what’s the point? I like bread as much as the next person but even I can’t eat two tons a day.’
Janet laughed. ‘I don’t think you’ll be producing quite that much. But do come and see me whenever you like. I can show you around Kestrel Mill and tell you as much as I know about milling, and then we’ll spend some time in the kitchens at my house. In fact, it might take a while to go through it all so you’re welcome to stay overnight if you like – we have a guest wing where we sometimes put holidaymakers up, and it’s free over the next couple of weeks.’
‘Oh, that’s so kind of you! I couldn’t possibly—’
‘You could. It’d be lovely to meet you, and I’m sure Andrew and the kids would love to meet you too.’
‘That’s your husband? Is he involved in the mill business too?’
‘No, he’s a banker. Can’t be bothered getting floury every day. The mill is my project – keeps me out of mischief, or so he says. I quite like it that way. He’s happy enough commuting into London every day, and I think he’s as crazy wanting to do that as he thinks I am for wanting to run a mill!’
‘I think there are quite a few people around here who think I’m crazy for wanting to take a mill on too.’
‘Do you have any idea when it will be finished?’
‘I had hoped for the end of the year – before Christmas. That’s looking a bit unlikely at the moment, though.’
‘These things always take longer than anyone imagines they will. It’s wise to manage your expectations, and it sounds as though you have.’
‘I haven’t had a lot of choice. It sometimes feels hopeless. I wonder if I’ve taken on far too much and if it will ever be within my power – or budget – to see it through.’
‘I felt like that when we were renovating ours. Perhaps it would be encouraging to see Kestrel Mill in action; you’ll be able to see that it is possible to achieve your dreams and get Magnolia Mill back to its glory days again.’
‘It certainly might be the tonic I need right now. I’ll have to look at my diary and talk to my sister, who’s staying with me at th
e moment, to see when I might be free. The builders might need some input from one of us, and I want to make sure she’s happy to take charge of the project while I’m missing.’
‘Well, you have my number, so give me a call when you have some dates and we’ll see if we can get a matching pair, eh?’
‘I’d love that,’ Lizzie said. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘Not at all – I’m looking forward to meeting the madwoman who’s taken on that old place.’
Lizzie laughed and they said their goodbyes with promises to be in touch again very soon. As she ended the call, Lizzie was filled with a renewed optimism and sense of purpose. Things had been slipping away from her the longer and more complicated the build at Magnolia Mill became. Seeing another mill in action and meeting the person that had been through the same struggles as Lizzie might just be the tonic she needed to help her through the final push on her own place. She’d talk to Gracie about it later and hope that she wouldn’t want to come along, because while Lizzie knew that nobody loved a daytrip quite as much as Gracie did, Lizzie needed her to hold the fort back at home.
She could ask Jude to keep an eye on things at the mill, she supposed, but she didn’t want to burden him with anything else while he had Charlie to worry about. And perhaps she could ask her mum, but then Gwendolyn might get flustered if anything went awry while Lizzie was missing, and that was too much stress to put her under, while James would complain about being away from his bedsit and his slacker mates. Florentina would have done it, but Gracie would make things so awkward in that regard it wasn’t really a workable solution either. Lizzie and Gracie hardly saw eye to eye on Florentina’s continued involvement with the family as it was.
Lizzie frowned as she wandered to the kitchen to forage for a quick sandwich. She desperately wanted to visit Kestrel Mill and she’d just have to find a way around it all, somehow.
* * *
Gracie was sulking, but Lizzie wasn’t going to be bullied. Neither was she going to let her sister dictate who visited the caravan while she still owned it. Their temporary home hadn’t yet changed hands, but even when it had been signed over, Lizzie would have to remind Gracie, gently or otherwise, that it still stood on her land and that they were supposed to be in a partnership that worked for them both – which meant some give and take. But for now, to save Florentina from the death stares aimed at her (she’d been passing as she toured her sales territory and had taken her life into her hands to call in at Magnolia Mill), Lizzie had taken her out of the caravan and they were currently inspecting the newly rendered exterior of the mill.
The Mill on Magnolia Lane: A gorgeous feel-good romantic comedy Page 14
