The Mill on Magnolia Lane: A gorgeous feel-good romantic comedy

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘I can’t keep having this conversation with him,’ she said. ‘He’s told me there’s nothing to worry about, and I can’t keep on asking him.’

  ‘So you’re just going to leave it at that?’

  Lizzie poured the milk into the mugs. ‘There’s not much else I can do, is there?’

  ‘Perhaps I could do some digging—’ Gracie began, but Lizzie cut her off.

  ‘I’m not spying on him. Whatever else I’m doing or not doing, I’m not sinking that low.’

  ‘It’s not low… it doesn’t have to be actual spying. I could just ask a few questions around and about. You could even have a chat with Charlie…’

  ‘No,’ Lizzie said firmly. ‘That’s putting Charlie in an unfair predicament, and besides, he’d go straight to Jude and tell him what I’d asked anyway. And I can imagine that would really make things better…’ she added dryly.

  ‘Then how about a bit of snooping around Harriet? Do you know where she lives?’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ Lizzie said. ‘If I can’t trust Jude then I probably shouldn’t be with him at all. Nobody’s snooping or spying on anyone and that’s that.’

  * * *

  Charlie was curled on the sofa watching Dolly Parton in concert while Jude and Lizzie cooked pasta together in the kitchen. It was a glorious luxury having a large space to move around in, not having to take every tiny bit of rubbish straight to the outside bins and balancing plates on top of toasters and bread bins to free up space on the worktop. Life in the caravan was beginning to get on top of Lizzie. Sometimes she coped with it better than at others, but while Gracie had reduced the living space with her arrival, her pregnancy now complicated things even further. There was no caravan big enough to contain her black, hormone-fuelled moods – one minute elation, the next utter despair, the next simmering resentment. When her sister was grabbed by one of these, the only thing Lizzie could do was vacate the area and wait for things to calm down.

  ‘So Gracie didn’t fancy supper with us?’ said Jude, chopping basil.

  ‘I think she feels like a gooseberry. I’ve told her that we can actually be in the same room without the need to grope one another now, but I don’t think she can quite believe it.’

  ‘She’s OK, though? No more funny turns?’

  ‘I think her morning sickness is calming down a little. She’s not happy about that, weirdly, because she’s read that morning sickness often means a stronger ability to carry the baby or something. I don’t know, she’s obsessed with baby research right now – reads everything no matter how silly. I suppose at least it keeps her good.’

  ‘I thought you said she was getting moody?’ Jude brought a handful of chopped leaves over and tossed them into the pan of sauce Lizzie was stirring.

  ‘She is, but even that’s like a huge drama that I think she’s secretly enjoying.’

  ‘And she still hasn’t told Frank? She is going to tell him, isn’t she?’

  ‘She knows she ought to, and I think if the relationship had ended any other way she would have done. If you ask me she wants to, but she’s getting back at him.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For the affair, of course. She’s keeping him in the dark to teach him a lesson. He’s an arrogant swine and clearly a shit for cheating on her, but I don’t believe for a minute he would be the dreadful father she says he would be.’

  ‘Dreadful father or not, surely it’s only right he gets the choice to at least try to be a decent one, even if he fails.’

  ‘Well, I suppose so.’

  ‘There’s no suppose about it. If Gracie is having his baby, he has a right to know – end of story.’

  ‘But Gracie is the one carrying the baby. It’s really her right to involve whoever she wants and keep out whoever she doesn’t.’ Lizzie was beginning to get irked by his self-righteous tone.

  ‘This is the problem, isn’t it?’ Jude drained a pan of pasta over the sink, steam wreathing up and out of the open window.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s all about the mothers. Why don’t men get a say in anything? We have no rights at all when it comes to children.’

  ‘That’s not true. You have plenty of input where Artie is concerned.’

  ‘Only because I’m friends with Harrie.’

  ‘So it’s not true that men get no rights…’

  ‘Clearly it’s true in this case. And if Gracie is doing it, how many other women do you think are out there having babies the fathers know nothing about?’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ Lizzie said, a vague sense of surprise and unease creeping over her. ‘At the end of the day, this is Gracie’s life and Gracie’s choice, and I can’t force her to involve Frank.’

  ‘But you could tell Frank.’

  ‘No way. It’s not my place.’

  ‘It’s not your place to stand by and see him excluded from his child’s life – Gracie might be right and he might not give a shit but at least give him the choice. And even if he doesn’t care at first, he might well change his mind later.’

  Jude’s mobile phone was out of the way on a windowsill. It began to ring, and he wiped his hands before fetching it and frowning at the display.

  ‘You don’t mind if I get this?’ he asked.

  Lizzie shook her head. It looked like their heated debate would have to go on ice for the moment. Jude swiped the screen to take the call.

  ‘I don’t suppose I can call you back—’ he began, but then his frown deepened as he listened to the caller.

  Lizzie could hear the voice at the other end of the line, even if she couldn’t make out what was being said. It was a female voice, and she sounded upset. Lizzie’s stomach dropped. Harriet.

  ‘Are you sure that’s what he meant?’ Jude asked. ‘How did you leave things?’ He was silent again as he listened some more. ‘And that’s it?’ he asked. ‘It’s over?’

  Once again, Lizzie could make out the tones of the voice in reply but not the words. But then Jude spoke again.

  ‘I can’t come right now, but—’

  The woman began to speak again, rapid and distraught.

  ‘Harrie… calm down!’ Jude’s voice rose too, and Lizzie’s worst fears were confirmed. ‘I’ll come over tomorrow but I can’t come now because…’ He glanced at Lizzie. ‘Well, I just can’t. I don’t think it would be a good idea to come here either,’ he added. ‘Charlie… you don’t want him to see you this upset, do you?’

  There was more talking at the other end of the line.

  ‘Where’s Artie now?’ Jude said, and then nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. ‘Tell your grandpappy I can come and pick him up early in the morning if he needs me to.’

  He threw Lizzie a look of apology. She tried to smile to say it was OK, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t OK – it was far from OK. Would she always have to share him with Harriet? She realised that Harriet would always claim a part of his life because of Artie, but she didn’t want to share him – not like this. And she couldn’t be sure that this wasn’t some plot to get Jude away from Lizzie. Some people were like that, weren’t they – you heard it all the time: I don’t want you but nobody else can have you either…

  ‘Harrie… Please, let’s talk tomorrow. You never know, he might have come to his senses by then and been over himself to fix things with you… I know you don’t think so but give it time. He’d be a fool to throw what you have away – everyone knows he’s punching way above his weight with you…’

  Lizzie’s wince was almost physical. If Jude had grabbed a kitchen knife and stabbed her she didn’t think it would have hurt any more than hearing him say that to Harriet.

  There was more noise at the other end of the line, what sounded like sobbing, and the sound of Harriet’s voice unmistakably rising.

  ‘I can’t come now,’ Jude said. ‘I’m so sorry but I really can’t…’

  After another moment, he said goodbye and ended the call, promising to be there the following day. He turned to Lizzie.
r />   ‘I’m so sorry. Harrie… I think it’s all over with her and Damon.’

  ‘I think I got that much,’ Lizzie said.

  There was silence. Lizzie looked out of the window. From the living room they could hear the strains of Dolly singing ‘Islands in the Stream’. She turned back to Jude and he was watching her, weighing her up, perhaps waiting for a response. What did he want her to say? That she was sorry for Harriet? That she didn’t mind Harriet gatecrashing her date with Jude? That it didn’t bother her that the woman always seemed to be there, like a dark cloud over their relationship? That she honestly believed Jude was over her? How could she say any of these things when they weren’t true?

  ‘You’re angry,’ Jude said. Not a question, an assumption.

  ‘Why would I be angry?’ Lizzie went to the stove and turned off the heat. The pasta sauce had come to a boil, spitting like lava over the surrounding work surfaces.

  ‘You’re not?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Lizzie said tightly.

  ‘Then why does this room suddenly feel very frosty? Don’t tell me this is about Harriet again. I thought we’d sorted that.’

  ‘So did I, but she’s here again, isn’t she? Demanding your attention. It’s like she has this sixth sense where I’m concerned. The minute I start to relax around you she brings something else to the party to make me doubt everything again.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous!’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘The woman’s just been dumped! Have a little heart!’

  ‘So now you’re making me look like I’m neurotic or something?’

  ‘No! Why are you so threatened by her? She’s a friend – why do I have to keep explaining that?’

  Lizzie sat down and turned her hands over, staring at them. Then she looked up again. Her heart was beating wildly, and she hated herself for what she was about to say but it had to be said.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me how distraught you’d been when Harriet dumped you?’

  ‘Where have you heard that?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I wasn’t distraught and she didn’t dump me. We’re not teenagers. We split up and there’s a world of difference.’

  ‘You’re saying you didn’t go to pieces?’

  ‘Maybe a little but—’

  ‘You wanted to marry her.’

  Jude’s eyes widened. ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘So it’s true?’

  ‘Lizzie – none of this matters now.’

  ‘But it does matter. It matters because you couldn’t tell me. Why did you have to keep it a secret? Is it because you were afraid I’d find out the truth? Is it because you’re still in love with her?’

  ‘No, of course not! I just didn’t think it was important.’

  ‘And now she’s single… how important do you think that is?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I think you know what I mean.’

  Jude scraped a hand through his hair. ‘No, I don’t, Lizzie. Please tell me what it is you think is going to happen.’

  ‘I think you still love her, no matter what you say.’

  ‘Harriet and I will never get back together.’

  ‘You haven’t denied it, though.’

  Jude threw the dishcloth onto the floor. ‘Jesus, Lizzie! What is wrong with you? Why are you so obsessed with her?’

  ‘Because you are, that’s why!’

  Jude raced over to close the door to the living room. ‘Keep it down – Charlie doesn’t need to hear this.’

  ‘I’m sorry – you’re right; he doesn’t.’

  He came over and reached out, but she shook him off.

  ‘Don’t.’

  ‘What do you want from me, Lizzie?’

  ‘You could have been honest about Harriet from the start. I might have understood it.’

  ‘I was honest.’

  ‘Not about the effect your break-up had on you. It’s no wonder it feels like you had something to hide. How can I believe you don’t still have feelings for her now? How can I feel safe that you won’t end up back with her now that she’s single and I’ll be cast aside, nothing more than a casual diversion to while away the time until she was free again?’

  ‘This is crazy.’

  ‘It’s not. For once, try to see it from my point of view. How would you feel if the tables were turned?’

  ‘I’d trust you.’

  ‘No, you wouldn’t. I’m sorry, but I’ve been lied to before by a man who said he cared about me. I need to be with someone I can trust, and I’m beginning to feel such a man isn’t even out there.’

  He studied her for a moment, silently digesting all that she’d said.

  ‘So where do we go from here?’ he asked.

  Lizzie shook her head. Her eyes glazed with tears and she fought them back. ‘I don’t know… I need time. I need you to show me that I can trust you.’

  ‘And how am I supposed to do that? I keep telling you over and over there’s nothing between me and Harriet now, but you don’t believe me.’

  ‘That’s because you telling me is not the same as you showing me. Telling is word not deed.’

  ‘You want me to stop spending time with her?’

  ‘I never said that—’

  ‘Because that is not going to happen. Have you forgotten the small matter of our son?’

  ‘Of course I haven’t, but that’s not what’s going on here as far as I can tell. Your friendship with Harriet is about more than just raising Artie.’

  ‘That’s bullshit!’ Jude cried, and this time it was Lizzie’s turn to shoot a cautious glance at the now closed living-room door. He folded his arms. ‘If that’s really how you feel then maybe we should call it a day right now. Our break-up seems inevitable anyway, or so you say, so why not do it now?’

  Lizzie stood up. Eyes full of tears, she dragged her coat from the back of her chair, and as she headed for the back door to leave, she didn’t want Jude to see her crying so she didn’t look back.

  EIGHTEEN

  As Lizzie rushed along Magnolia Lane, she dug her phone out of her bag to call Gracie. She’d left her car at the mill in anticipation of Jude driving her home or them making the walk together hand in hand at the end of the night, Jude seeing her safely to her door like a knight of old. Dusk was bleaching the colour from the day and the temperature had dropped, but that wouldn’t have bothered Lizzie ordinarily. Ordinarily, she would have loved walking the lane, taking in every leaf of every hedgerow, every flower, every birdcall with wonder as fresh and new as the first time she’d walked it. Already she was embedded in her rural home, so at one with the landscape that she could never imagine leaving now.

  But not tonight. As she dialled Gracie’s number, she didn’t notice the first shy rabbit emerging into the evening air at the side of the road, or the cloud of starlings flocking to roost, or the fire of the clouds caught by the setting sun. She only wanted her sister to come and rescue her before she changed her mind and went running back to Jude. Whatever else happened now, she wasn’t going to do that.

  ‘What have you left behind?’ Gracie said with a laugh as she answered the phone. ‘Because whatever it is you’ll have to manage without it – I’m in my pyjamas and I’m not getting dressed for anyone; least of all you.’

  ‘Oh, Gracie,’ Lizzie said, unable to prevent the crack in her voice. ‘Can you come and get me? I’m sorry but I really need—’

  ‘Where are you?’ Gracie cut in, her voice sharp and full of new urgency now. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘I can’t talk about it now.’ Lizzie sniffed. ‘I’m on the lane on my way home, but could you come and get me?’

  ‘I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes,’ Gracie said. And without waiting for a reply, she ended the call.

  Lizzie tipped her face to the sky and tried to sniff back her tears.

  Gracie was true to her word, pulling up a matter of minutes later, bundled in a dressing g
own. She pushed open the passenger door for Lizzie to get in.

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ she said as Lizzie fastened her seatbelt. ‘It’s about Harriet.’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Call it intuition.’

  ‘You were right all along,’ Lizzie replied miserably. ‘He does still have feelings for her. I suspected it too, but I thought I could be bigger than that; I thought in time he and I would get closer and she’d fade into the background… but that’s never going to happen, and I don’t think I can be big enough about it. I hate it and I hate her.’

  Gracie kept her eyes forward as she navigated the darkening road home. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Not as sorry as I am.’

  ‘You really like him, don’t you?’

  ‘I think I might have even loved him. At least, it felt like the start of something. What an idiot. I can’t seem to get it right with men – I make the most terrible choices.’

  ‘I thought that was me,’ Gracie said, flashing a wry smile that faded just as quickly. ‘Perhaps we should make a sisterly pact to swear off men for good.’

  Lizzie sniffed. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’

  They fell to silence as the car swept into the driveway and Gracie killed the engine. Lizzie was tired and she was confused. She wanted to talk things over, but at the same time she wanted to ignore it and pretend the argument with Jude had never happened. She knew she wouldn’t be able to do that, though, because the crux of the argument – Harriet – would never go away. Even if she ignored it this time, the same argument would bubble away beneath the surface and it would keep erupting – at first, small spats like this, until one day it would blow into an almighty explosion that would finish everything. Perhaps, in the long run, ending things now would be less painful for everyone.

  Lizzie followed Gracie to the caravan. It was usually Gracie following Lizzie, but tonight Lizzie was happy to let her sister take charge. Inside, Lizzie dropped to the sofa and buried her face in a cushion. A soft touch landed on her arm, and she looked up to see Gracie there, her face full of love and concern.

  ‘You can talk to me,’ she said. ‘I know what I’ve said before, and you know what I think about it, but I can listen and not judge – if that’s what you need.’