The Little Orchard on the Lane: An absolutely perfect and uplifting romantic comedy

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘Oh…’ Posy said faintly. What was she supposed to make of that? She’d got more answers today than she could have hoped for, but they’d only created more questions. ‘What was he like?’

  ‘We, um… we didn’t really have much to do with him after Angelica left,’ Giles said. ‘As you can imagine it was a little bit awkward.’

  ‘He means John and his wife avoided us like the plague,’ Asa cut in. ‘Hardly surprising really, given the circumstances.’

  Posy held back a frown. ‘But you must know a little about him.’

  Sandra gave a slight shrug. ‘I married Giles long after this had all happened…’ she turned to him. ‘You were only sixteen at the time, weren’t you, darling?’

  Giles nodded. ‘I was really too young to take much notice before all the trouble, but from what I remember he was always pleasant and polite whenever we bumped into him… that was before Angelica and he…’

  His sentence tailed off but Posy didn’t need the rest to know what he meant. ‘What did he do? Did he farm?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Giles said. ‘Commuted for work. I think he was an investment banker or pension-fund manager or something.’

  Posy was silent for a moment as she absorbed this new information. ‘Why didn’t Angelica stay in touch with anyone here?’

  ‘She and Mother couldn’t get past what happened with Father. I suspect Angelica must have felt we blamed her for it too – Asa and I – but we didn’t. She just left one day and fell off the face of the earth. I’d heard of her popping up here and there. I think there were some mental health issues, or maybe falling in with the wrong people, and I even tried to contact her a few times, but she never seemed to stay in one place long enough to be found.’

  Posy wasn’t sure they were telling her the whole story and she vowed to get more when she knew them better. ‘What do you think people will make of me if they learn who my parents are?’

  ‘Don’t worry – I don’t think you’ll be judged for it,’ Giles said.

  ‘There’ll be curiosity for sure,’ Asa put in. ‘But if it makes you feel easier we can keep it all low profile and it might stop folks asking questions.’

  ‘I suppose it’s more or less what I expected,’ Posy said. ‘I had hoped I might find out more about my biological dad…’

  ‘Is there anything else?’ Sandra asked gently. ‘We could tell you other things… what Angelica was like…’

  ‘That would be nice,’ Posy began slowly, ‘but if you don’t mind perhaps we’ll save those stories for another time. It’s not that I don’t want to know; it’s just—’

  ‘I quite understand,’ Sandra cut in with a pained smile. ‘I’m sure I’d feel the same way in your position. I imagine it’s going to take some time to get used to all this.’

  ‘I never even knew her name until a few weeks ago,’ Posy said.

  Sandra looked desperate to scoop her up and hug her, but instead, she reached for the teapot to top up Carmel’s cup.

  Silence enveloped the table again. Nobody knew what to say next and it was only the sound of a jaunty ringtone that saved them from a very long and awkward pause.

  Asa pulled his phone from a pocket and frowned at it. The action prompted a silent question from Giles, but Asa simply shook his head and rejected the call before stowing the phone back in his pocket.

  Though Posy was intrigued – clearly something significant had happened – it was hardly the time or place to give it any more thought, and as Asa quickly dismissed the incident, it was evidently something he was hoping would pass without too much notice. Besides, they had more important issues to address right now, though it was proving hard to tackle them.

  ‘Will you stay for dinner?’ Sandra said into the silence. She gave what was obviously a forced smile to Carmel and Posy. Posy looked at her mum.

  ‘Oh, we couldn’t…’ she began, wondering whether Carmel was feeling a little threatened right now. Maybe it was best they had time together alone to process what had happened here and what it meant for them as mother and daughter.

  ‘It wouldn’t be a bit of bother,’ Sandra said. ‘I always make too much and it would be lovely to get to know you a bit better. I’m sure there’s lots to talk about.’

  ‘It’s very kind of you,’ Carmel said with a small smile, ‘but we’re tired and I think it would be better to head to our guest house before it gets too late.’

  ‘You could always stay here if it gets too late to go on,’ Sandra insisted. ‘Couldn’t they, Giles?’

  Her husband looked less certain about this suggestion but he nodded anyway.

  ‘We’d be an imposition,’ Carmel said firmly.

  ‘Perhaps next time?’ Posy added, stepping in to support her mum. ‘I’m honestly exhausted and I’d be terrible company.’

  ‘Then at least pop back to see us before you leave for London tomorrow.’ Sandra poured some more tea into Posy’s cup now, even though Posy still had half a cup left.

  Posy looked at Carmel. She felt it might be a good idea for them to do that – if nothing else a good night’s sleep might make them fresher and less emotional.

  ‘We’d like that,’ Posy said finally, glancing at Carmel who nodded encouragement.

  ‘Wonderful!’ Sandra said. ‘For now, why don’t we have another slice of cake?’

  Chapter Three

  Sunnyfields Guest House wasn’t hard to find, and the fact it was only a few minutes away by car meant it probably wasn’t much of a walk for anyone who chose to wander up to the orchard from there. Posy thought she might suggest it to her mum when they went back to Oleander House again, as they’d agreed to, the following day before they started back for London. They could pack the car up and perhaps the landlady, Karen, wouldn’t mind them leaving it there for a while after they’d checked out of their room. Judging by the car park as they pulled in now, it looked as if she had the space.

  ‘Oh, this is lovely!’ Carmel gazed up at the exterior of the building with a broad smile as they got out of the car.

  ‘It’s certainly in keeping with everything else around here,’ Posy replied. ‘I feel as if we’ve wandered into a fairy-tale land; everything is just so quaint and adorable.’

  They stood side by side to take in the view for a moment. The exterior of the building was similar to that of Oleander House, only a little smaller – but it was built from the same buff stone with a smart slate roof. In addition there were original sash windows dressed in soft floral drapes, vibrant pink clematis garlanding the entrance, neat green lawns that stretched the width of the house dotted with flower beds and the odd garden statue. Along to the left of the garden was an old iron street lamp and next to that a gleaming red telephone box, no longer home to a public telephone but stuffed with books. The sun was working its way down the sky as the afternoon aged, and in the rose-gold light, clouds of gnats played over the grass.

  The front door opened and a woman came out. She was perhaps around Carmel’s age, hair piled up on her head, fastened in place with a crocodile clip, long, full white dress swooshing around her, the odd flash of gold from some very blingy sandals visible as she walked. She had a ring for every finger and three or four gold chains around her neck.

  ‘Hello there!’ she called as she hastened towards them. ‘Are you here for a reservation?’

  ‘Yes… Dashwood?’

  The woman stuck out her hand for Carmel to shake, and then did the same for Posy.

  ‘Smashing. I’m Karen. I saw your car pull in and I wondered if it might be you. I’ve just this minute finished getting your room ready. Do you have much luggage? I’ve got a trolley inside if you need it.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we travel light,’ Carmel said. ‘We should manage perfectly well.’

  ‘Wonderful. Well, when you’re ready I’ll be waiting inside at the reception desk with your paperwork.’

  With a bright smile and a flurry of white cotton she turned and hurried back to the house.

  ‘She seems nice,’
Posy said as Karen disappeared inside.

  ‘She does. And the hotel looks delightful too. If it’s as pretty on the inside as it is on the outside I’ll be very happy.’

  * * *

  ‘This is you…’ Karen opened the door to reveal a room with a large window dressed in the sumptuous floral drapes they’d seen from outside. The curtains were a heavy plum silk, pulled wide to let in maximum light, and a window seat was built into the space below, upholstered in the same fabric, cushions scattered over it in complementary colours. The wallpaper was shades of pink in a swirling oriental flower motif, the floor dressed in Eastern rugs and fringed lamps atop mirrored furniture. It might have been too much, but it managed to stay just on the right side of cosy and bohemian and seemed to reflect what they’d seen so far of Karen perfectly.

  Posy would have been ostracised by her boss for producing a design like this for any of their clients, but, on a personal level, she was already in love with the place. It felt like somewhere that didn’t care who you were or what you did, only that you were happy and comfortable and completely yourself. She glanced at Carmel – who had made the booking and so must have already seen the hotel on the website – and could see that she wasn’t a bit disappointed. This was exactly the sort of place that would appeal to her mother’s artistic sensibilities too.

  ‘There are maps of the local area and information on days out in the reception if you need them,’ Karen said. ‘I’ve put plenty of tea and coffee and biscuits out for you, and the kettle is just there on the dresser,’ she added. ‘But if you’d rather come and take tea in the day room you’d be more than welcome. We’ve got a full house, but most of the other guests tend to spend their days out so it will probably be just me down there today and I’d be happy to have the company.’

  ‘Aren’t we a bit late for afternoon tea?’ Posy asked.

  ‘We’ve an hour or so before dinner but really we don’t have any rules around here – if you want tea and cake at midnight in the day room then I don’t mind at all. It’s your trip, after all, and you must do what makes it enjoyable.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you,’ Carmel said, but Posy guessed that she still wasn’t quite herself and might prefer a reflective hour in her room before dinner to collect her thoughts and mull over what had happened at Oleander House. In a strange way, the day had probably been more stressful for Carmel than for Posy herself.

  Posy had decided very early on that nothing she learned would change her relationship with her adopted mother, and yet, despite Posy saying so, Carmel must have felt she was suddenly faced with competition. Angelica was dead – from an alcohol-related illness, Posy had later found out from Asa – but that didn’t make her any less Posy’s mother. Carmel must have worried that things would change now that Posy had met her biological family, and Posy just didn’t know how to articulate, in a way that could leave Carmel with no lingering doubts, that they wouldn’t.

  Depending on how Carmel felt about it and whether she’d prefer that quiet hour to be alone or in company, Posy thought she might have a little snoop around Sunnyfields Guest House. If the rest of it was as cute as what she’d seen so far, it would go a long way to nourish her creative soul in a way that it rarely did professionally these days. At work there was always a brief, always constraints, often designs that she didn’t personally love or even like. As a student she’d never imagined that the art she was so passionate about would become such a chore at times, but she’d never really factored in that she wouldn’t be able to do as she pleased when she produced art for other people. It wasn’t until she’d started to work that reality had hit her with enough force to make her question – if only for the first months, but question nonetheless – her career choices.

  As a self-employed potter Carmel had a little more creative freedom, but even she often found she had to rein in a design in order to sell it. It was something they’d discussed often when Posy had started to work, something that Posy’s father, Anthony, really didn’t understand. To him, work was work. You were given a project and you delivered it, and that was all there was to it; it didn’t matter how you felt personally about it. And even though Posy could see a certain beauty and grace to the vast, towering wind turbines that he helped to install, at the end of the day they were functional, above all else, and she could see why he looked at his job that way.

  ‘Well, I’ll let you get settled in,’ Karen said. ‘I’m just downstairs if you need me – or you can dial for reception on the phone and I’ll be able to answer wherever I am.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Carmel said.

  As Karen left them and closed the door softly behind her, Carmel dropped into a squishy armchair in the corner of the room and closed her eyes with a long sigh.

  ‘Tough day?’ Posy asked, glancing briefly at the twin beds and deciding to claim the one nearest to her by stretching out on it.

  ‘I should be asking you that.’

  ‘Oh…’ Posy waved an airy hand, just to show she was fine. ‘Shall I make us a cup of tea?’

  Carmel opened her eyes and smiled across at Posy, who was still flat on her back. Despite her offer, it looked as if she had no intentions of moving any time soon.

  ‘You’re sure that wouldn’t be too much effort for you?’

  Posy pushed herself up with a grin. ‘Early starts don’t agree with me – you know that.’

  ‘That’s true. No – don’t worry about me. I’m just going to sit here for a while… maybe phone your dad – he’ll be wondering how it’s gone today.’

  ‘In that case I might go and explore. Do you want to come?’

  ‘You want to explore? Are you… well, are you OK? I mean, with all that’s happened so far today?’

  Posy nodded. ‘I just need time to process everything, but I think I’m almost more OK about it than you are. It honestly doesn’t change anything for me, you know. You and Dad are still my family – my number-one family, the people who really matter. I’d like to get to know Giles and Asa better, but they’re never going to be more important than you and Dad. You know that – right?’

  Carmel pushed a smile across her face, and Posy wasn’t fooled for a moment. But she also knew that it would take time for her mother to feel better about it.

  ‘Of course. You go ahead and explore and I’ll meet you downstairs for dinner.’

  Posy grabbed her phone, slotted it into the pocket of her cotton jacket and headed for the door. She kissed her mum briefly. ‘Tell Dad I said hello and I’ll speak to him later.’

  ‘Of course. See you later.’

  ‘See you later—’

  ‘And, Posy…’

  She stopped and turned back to her mum.

  ‘Thank you,’ Carmel said with a tired smile.

  ‘I should be thanking you,’ Posy said, returning the smile with one of her own. Nobody meant more to Posy than the parents who had brought her up, and nobody ever would.

  * * *

  After a wander around the gardens, which were split between the neat and structured beds and lawns at the front of the house and a wilder more rambling section at the back characterised by wildflowers and shrubs, a little pond, a greenhouse containing tomato and cucumber plants, a guest terrace with iron furniture, some free-roaming white ducks and a pen inhabited by a miniature pig, Posy investigated the books in the telephone box. A sign was stuck to the inside of the door and it seemed the stock was to be enjoyed by the guests, who could take a book away with them if they liked as long as they left another in its place, or returned the book once they were done with it.

  There wasn’t anything Posy really wanted to read that she hadn’t already read and, besides, she was here for only a night so she wouldn’t really have time anyway. Perusing the shelves was really more for something to do than anything else.

  Once she’d done that, and spent another ten minutes taking photos of areas of interest around the house, she decided to go back inside to see if Karen was in the day room. She wasn’t, but then, h
earing voices from another room, Posy went to investigate and in the process discovered the location of the dining room. Karen was in there with another woman who was setting the tables. The woman looked perhaps Posy’s own age, or maybe early thirties, and was dressed in a very practical but shapeless shift dress, her dark hair scraped into a high ponytail; she wore very little make-up and her only jewellery was a pair of large gold hoop earrings. None of this, however, could take away from the fact that she was very attractive. If she looked like this dressed for work, she would have been a real femme fatale dressed for a night out.

  Posy was about to duck out when Karen looked up.

  ‘Everything alright? You need something? Perhaps that cup of tea?’

  ‘Oh no… you’re busy… I’ll just…’

  ‘It’s no bother. Ray’s got everything under control in the kitchen and Pavla only thinks I’m more of a hindrance than a help when I try to set the tables with her, don’t you, Pavla?’

  The other woman grinned at Posy. ‘True enough. Please take her out of my way – I’ll be much quicker on my own.’

  ‘Honestly,’ Posy said. ‘I was just exploring… that’s OK, isn’t it? Only my mum is having a lie-down so I was making myself scarce for a bit.’

  ‘Oh, she’s not unwell, is she?’ Karen said, making her way over.

  ‘No… it’s just been a long day – early start, you know?’

  ‘Every day’s a long day here, let me tell you,’ Karen said cheerfully. ‘Starts with sun up and ends with sun down. Not that I’d have it any other way – I love running this place.’

  ‘It’s yours?’ Posy asked. ‘I mean, you don’t run it for anyone else?’

  ‘All mine,’ Karen said. ‘Well, I suppose it’s a little bit my husband’s too.’

  ‘Does he work here too?’

  ‘Ray’s your chef for tonight,’ Karen said. ‘And tomorrow morning for breakfast. In fact, he’s your chef whenever you eat. I do the hospitality and he does the food – if it was the other way around we’d have gone bankrupt as soon as we opened because I can’t cook and he has no social skills whatsoever.’