As they rounded a large tree, the group of buildings came properly into view. One was what Annie had described as a coaching lodge. There was another barn there as well.
And then there was the old stable block.
Eleanor stopped abruptly, rooted to the path in shock.
‘It’s falling apart,’ she said, staring aghast at the long brick building in front of her.
It was an L-shape block, holding about ten individual stables. Or, it once had. These days, the brick looked to be crumbling apart.
‘At least the roof looks intact,’ said Tom, staring up at the dark slates.
‘It’s the only bit that is,’ she told him, going across to the stable nearest to her at the end of the block. She went to pull the wooden door open and found only the top half opened. The bottom half of the split stable door was firmly wedged shut.
Tom moved in front of her and yanked it hard until the whole thing fell apart in his hands. He looked sheepish. ‘Well, at least it’s open now.’
‘I don’t suppose Annie and Sam will worry about one more building rotting away,’ said Eleanor.
She poked her head inside and looked around. It was actually quite a large room with a window next to the door making it seem bright and surprisingly airy. And it didn’t smell of horses, thankfully. Just musty, unused, with lots of cobwebs.
‘You know,’ said Tom, also venturing inside. ‘It’s in better condition than you think.’ He flicked the light switch by the door and they were both surprised to see the light bulb in the middle of the ceiling come on. ‘So the electricity is still working,’ he said, nodding in thought. ‘A new door would be quite easy to fit.’
‘I don’t think Sam and Annie want any more costs at the minute,’ said Eleanor. Besides, it all seemed a bit unnecessary. ‘Maybe I can manage back at home,’ she said, beginning to turn away. This had been a silly idea. It had been kind of Annie to offer, but it was too much.
‘Look,’ said Tom, still gazing around at the space inside. ‘I can knock up a new door in next to no time. Maybe a workbench as well.’
Eleanor was shocked. ‘You?’
‘I trained to be a carpenter,’ he told her, smiling at her surprised look. ‘I’m actually quite good. If you buy me a beer, we’ll call it even.’
A frown creased her forehead. ‘I didn’t think you drank.’
His smile grew wider. ‘Don’t believe everything you read in the gossip columns.’
She found that the room suddenly felt a lot smaller with him filling the doorway. They locked eyes for a minute before he turned to study the room.
‘You probably need some shelves too,’ he said.
‘Look, are you sure you’ve got time for all this?’ asked Eleanor.
‘No problem,’ he said.
She got the feeling that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
He wandered back outside. ‘Did you know there’s an outside tap here as well?’ he said through the window.
Eleanor turned around and tried to focus on the positives. The place needed a good sweep and maybe a bit of weatherproofing. But there was possibility there.
Perhaps Sam and Annie could rent out the space afterwards if they made it clean and tidy, she told herself.
She found that she was smiling. For the first time in a long time, she felt a tiny ping of excitement in her stomach. Maybe this really could work.
After she and Tom had headed back to the house, there was a few more minutes of small talk before he thankfully left.
With relief, she sagged against the back wall. So neither of them had mentioned the kiss. That was good. They could both move on. Forget the whole thing had ever happened.
Except Eleanor wasn’t sure she would ever be able to forget kissing Tom.
Chapter 33
Tom was surprised that Eleanor wanted to dabble in making creams and other cosmetics
He was having trouble deciding which version of her was real. The classy clothes horse with the defensive shield? Or the glittery, wellie-wearing Glastonbury one he had kissed?
He still didn’t know.
But he found himself more and more intrigued by the third version of this stranger. The one that wanted to create something for her friends.
Figuring the best way to find out more would be to help renovate the stable, he hunted around for some raw materials. There was a pile of leftover timbers from when the first team of builders had almost ripped Willow Tree Hall to shreds.
‘Help yourself,’ said Arthur, nodding at the huge stack when he was asked about it. ‘It’s all oak. Do you need some tools?’
Tom shook his head. ‘Thankfully I brought my own.’
‘Very wise.’
Tom carried the wood to the stable block and placed it on the ground. He rubbed his slightly sore back. He wasn’t used to physical work. You’ve grown lazy, he found himself thinking. A bit of actual exercise and hard work would do him some good.
He made a mental note of the jobs he needed to get done and began work. The door was completely rotten so he ripped it off and measured up for a new one. He kept the lock but Eleanor would need a padlock or something else. Not that anyone ever seemed to come here. Not even his fans, thankfully, who were still congregating outside the gates most days.
He also made some measurements for a workbench and shelves. The wooden shutters needed replacing outside of the window too, which, by some miracle, had remained intact.
Before he began to cut the oak planks down to size, he ran his fingers along the wood where it was smooth, the knots formed from many decades. He had missed working with wood and had forgotten the pleasure it brought him.
It also meant that he had a way to pay back the generosity of the family over the past month or so.
Meanwhile, the ever-present Dylan dozed on the warm stone until he became too hot and shuffled over to the cool ground in the shade of the trees.
By the time Eleanor appeared later with a broom, he had almost finished the new door and was ready to hang it.
‘You work fast,’ she told him before she went inside to sweep out the cobwebs and years of dust and dirt. ‘We could do with you at The Forge.’
He remembered the state of the place, thanks to the animals. But then he recalled the back door sticking. Perhaps he could give Eleanor’s Mum a bit of hand there, as well.
He briefly wondered why he was prepared to add yet more carpentry to his to-do list.
By the end of the day, most of the furniture had been made.
‘Tomorrow, the painting begins,’ he told Eleanor.
‘This is great,’ she told him, looking at her new table. ‘I suppose if the singing career doesn’t work out, you could always go back to being a carpenter.’
He laughed at her joke. ‘It certainly kept me fed and watered during all those years when I wasn’t famous.’
She left a short time later, citing donkey- and goat-feeding duties.
Alone at the stables, Tom took a moment to appreciate the peace. He had really enjoyed his afternoon and felt relaxed, despite his aching muscles.
Now that Eleanor had swept out the inside of the stables, he decided to quickly paint the walls with the old pot of white paint that he had found. Then at least it could dry overnight and prevent any further dust wafting up from the bricks.
It was a small space and didn’t take long, so he was able to finish the day by placing the worktables inside, leaving just the shelves to be screwed into place once the paint was dry the following day.
Closing the door, he felt a rare sense of satisfaction. But he was also a tiny bit frustrated. As if he hadn’t wanted to finish working. He had found himself humming and writing lyrics as he had worked. But now the job was over.
‘If I’d known you were as talented a carpenter as a singer, I’d have saved a fortune getting the main house done up,’ said Sam, looking amazed when he joined him at the stable block later on. ‘Dinner’s ready soon, by the way.’
‘Thanks,’ sai
d Tom. ‘Though I’m not sure you can afford my carpentry skills.’
‘I don’t think we can afford anyone at the minute,’ said Sam with a sigh.
Tom smiled. ‘You know, I really enjoyed myself. I think in a bizarre way it actually helped me unlock some lyrics.’
Sam looked surprised but pleased. ‘Really? Well, there’s always the rest of the stable block to do, if you think it helps.’ He waved his hand around the other nine rooms which were crying out for more attention. They looked even worse now that Eleanor’s workroom was complete, ready for her to move in. ‘You know, this is the most relaxed I’ve seen you in a long time,’ said Sam. ‘You’ve been somewhat out of it since your gran died.’
Tom shrugged his shoulders. ‘Grief is pretty awful to get through.’
‘I agree,’ said Sam. ‘I’m not sure Will has ever got past his.’
‘How is your brother?’
‘Too wild,’ said Sam, shaking his head. ‘He’s yet to find his way back into the family like I did. And it took me long enough.’ He sighed. ‘He was talking about doing up the gamekeeper’s lodge at some point, so we’ll see what happens with that.’
‘Nobody can take away someone else’s pain,’ said Tom. ‘But you can help ease it a little.’
‘Is that what Eleanor’s doing?’ asked Sam, breaking into a grin.
Tom smiled. ‘Maybe.’
Or was it more? Much more?
He was anxious to change the subject. ‘So you think it’s okay if I carry on repairing the rest of the stables?’
‘Sure.’ Sam shrugged his shoulders. ‘Everything needs repairing. There’s so much to do here, so the more hands to the pump, the better. But don’t forget the reason you’re here, right?’
Tom quoted some new lyrics at him and Sam seemed pleased.
‘That’s great,’ he said, grinning. ‘Well, go ahead. You’ll have a hit album if you keep renovating dilapidated old places like this every week. And we’ve got piles of derelict buildings just waiting for you!’
As he walked back to the main house with his friend, Tom realised he felt happier and more relaxed than he had done for ages. The work had helped. But also because he was around people again.
Had he closed himself off for too long? Stayed inside when he should have been outside? Was that what had blocked his thoughts and music?
He was coming to realise that it probably was. And that it needed to change.
He also knew that he was enjoying Eleanor’s company as well. And that he still wanted to kiss her again.
Chapter 34
Eleanor arrived at Willow Tree Hall the following day, armed with bottles and old pots and pans, ready to start moving her stuff in.
Almost immediately, she came across Tom in the entrance hall.
‘Do you need a hand carrying all that?’ he asked, picking up two boxes at once.
Eleanor tried and failed to stop herself glancing at his toned biceps as he picked up the heavy boxes with ease. When had he become all outdoorsy and muscly all of a sudden? The fresh air and carpentry was certainly helping him relax.
She followed him to the stable block and let him unlock the door, amazed by the difference she saw inside.
‘You painted it,’ she said, turning to him in surprise. ‘Thank you so much.’
He held his palms up. ‘Dylan told me to,’ he replied.
She couldn’t believe it. The room looked so much larger now that it was painted white. But it was nice to still see the pattern of the bricks underneath. He had placed two worktables in the room at a right angle and a stool had also appeared from somewhere.
‘Wow,’ she told him. ‘Dylan really worked you hard.’
‘He’s a slave driver,’ he told her, looking a little bit sheepish.
She decided to let him off the hook and began to look through her boxes whilst he put up a couple of shelves for her to use. Then the room was ready for her to unpack whilst Tom worked on the shutters outside.
‘We’ll have to ask the family what colour they think the shutters should be painted,’ said Tom.
‘Green would be nice,’ she told him.
‘I agree but we’d better get their opinion, just in case there’s some historical colour or something they’d prefer me to use.’
As they carried on, Eleanor found it was relaxing, working together. She was filling the shelves and tables with all her stuff. He was now working on the door to the next stable along. They felt like a team.
Looking along the bench, she realised she was going to need some kind of stove to warm the ingredients up and wondered if Arthur had an old one knocking about somewhere. Thankfully he came along later in the morning, so she had a chance to ask him.
‘I’m pretty certain we kept a few in the garage in case of power cuts,’ he told her. Nodding thoughtfully, he added, ‘I’ll have a look later for you.’
He went over to sit down on an old bench in the courtyard of the stables.
‘Wait!’ said Eleanor, rushing over. The bench looked extremely rickety.
Tom also hurtled over, but it was too late. Arthur had already sat down and was smiling up at them both.
‘Thank you both for your concern,’ he said. ‘The seat has no doubt weathered, but it’s still sturdy. Much like myself.’
Eleanor and Tom exchanged a soft laugh of relief.
‘Well, this is all looking quite splendid,’ said Arthur, nodding his approval.
‘What colour do you think the shutters should be painted?’ asked Tom. ‘They need something to keep them weatherproof.’
Arthur studied them for a moment before declaring, ‘I think some shade of green would be perfect, don’t you?’
Eleanor and Tom exchanged a smile as Arthur leant forward to give Dylan a stroke. Tom wandered away to carry on working whilst Eleanor chatted.
‘Isn’t it lovely to have a bit of sun,’ carried on Arthur, with a contented sigh. ‘I really do think sometimes we all need a little solar power to get our energy levels back up again.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Eleanor, rolling her shoulders. ‘I’ve spent more time outside since I came back to Cranley than I’ve ever done before.’
‘And are you reaping the benefits?’ asked Arthur.
She knew that her handmade creams were the main difference in the improvement of her skin but she had no doubt that the fresh air had helped as well.
‘Apart from my freckles,’ she whispered
He smiled. ‘They’re a sign of beauty, my dear. And you get that from your mother. How is she getting along without some of her animal friends?’
‘Better than I thought she would,’ Eleanor told him.
‘Glad to hear of it,’ said Arthur. ‘I would hate to see a lovely woman such as June hide herself away when there’s so much to be enjoyed in the world.’
With a nod of goodbye, Arthur got up from the bench and went back to the house.
Eleanor watched him for a while, thinking that Annie was blessed to have such a grandfather-type figure in her life. Her own dad was particularly lacking in any kind of parental guidance or even interest.
Enjoying the sun, Eleanor stood still and realised that her pulse no longer raced along in stress. Her whole life and attitude had slowed down. Nothing was a rush now. There was no race to the next story. To the next Tube. Running and running in the sweaty concrete heat of the city. Here in the country she could stop.
However, she did want and need to keep her brain busy so had begun to read up on skincare and how certain flowers could help against various ailments. Roses were wonderful for older skin, helping to soothe and hydrate sensitive skins. Lavender had also real flower power to relax both skin and mind.
She was just googling how to make flower oils when Tom arrived back from the main house with a picnic basket. ‘Annie thought you might be keeling over from starvation. Have you eaten lunch?’
Eleanor shook her head. ‘Not yet. You want to share?’
But as they peered inside the basket,
she realised that there was plenty of food and drink for both of them.
‘Looks like a picnic for two,’ said Tom, grabbing a sandwich.
Not very subtle, Annie, thought Eleanor. But the cold drink was welcome, as was the food.
As they sat outside on Arthur’s bench in the warmth of the sun, she watched Tom lob an apple core at Dylan. He caught it and settled down to have his own lunch.
‘Shouldn’t you be writing songs instead of working out here?’ she asked.
He grinned and tapped his temple. ‘It’s all still working up here, you know. Let me think now.’ He paused before singing softly, ‘She fades in and out. Does she know? Does she care? She’s a sweet enigma. The girl with the wavy hair.’
She was impressed until she thought about the lyrics. ‘Wavy?’ Her hand automatically flew up to her head. She hadn’t bothered to straighten it properly for a few days.
‘I like it,’ he said, still watching her. ‘When I first knew you, you were more, what’s the word, rigid.’
Rigid? She was horrified.
‘Too London, I mean,’ he carried on, seeing her upset look. ‘Now you’re all countrified.’
She made a face at him. ‘You mean with the wellies and the bad smell?’
‘I mean with the relaxed look, genuine smile and freckles.’
‘Aren’t they awful?’ she said, covering her nose. ‘Every damn summer.’
He reached out and removed her hand.
She flinched for a second, worried about the eczema patches in between her fingers. Then she remembered that they had disappeared and relaxed a little.
‘I think your freckles are cute,’ he told her.
There was a moment when he held her hand and she couldn’t look away from his eyes no matter how hard she tried. The world stopped as she held her breath, remembering the moment when their lips had touched at Glastonbury.
Finally, he stood up. ‘Well, those doors aren’t going to make themselves,’ he said softly.
He left her sitting on the bench, realising that she could finally breathe out.
But she was smiling to herself as she sat there, feeling ridiculously pleased that he had called her cute.
Escape to the Country Page 21
