***
A couple of hours later Allie set off to meet Rory with her camera slung around her neck and a smile on her face. The sun was shining and the trees along the lane swayed lightly in the breeze.
She was bursting to tell Rory all about Zach’s arrival in the village and as soon as she saw him shutting the door of his house she hurried up the lane. Before Rory had even clapped eyes on her she sneaked up behind him.
‘You’ll never guess what,’ she said, causing Rory to jump out of his skin.
‘Christ on a bike, are you trying to give me a heart attack? Where did you spring from?’ he asked, spinning round as he locked the front door.
‘Sorry, sorry … but you’ll never guess what,’ enthused Allie, bursting to tell him the news.
‘What?’ he asked, narrowing his eyes and slipping his arm around her shoulder as they began to walk along the lane.
‘Zach Hudson – the Zach Hudson – TV celebrity Zach Hudson—’
‘I think I get the picture. What about him?’ chipped in Rory.
‘He’s here in Heartcross.’
Rory laughed, ‘Have you been on the sherry already?’
‘He’s filming a documentary in Heartcross and is staying at Isla’s – honestly!’
Rory let out a low whistle. ‘I’ve been watching some of his latest documentaries. I know you ladies like him in his TV series but some of the more serious stuff he does is actually quite good.’
‘You can ask him all about it because Drew has talked him into judging the dog show with you. And guess who’ll be taking photos for the local press?’ Allie waggled her camera.
‘Really? This will be great for you and Isla.’
‘I know. Every year it’s a good day without fail – but I am a little nervous.’
‘About what?’
‘About seeing your parents after …’
Rory slid his arm from around Allie’s shoulders and squeezed her hand. The last forty-eight hours at work had been tense for Rory; to say there was an elephant in the room would have been an understatement. Rory had kept everything on a professional basis, but the tension had rippled between him and his father.
‘I’ve been thinking …’
Allie stopped and locked eyes with him. ‘What about?’
‘The cottage – but I’m making no promises.’
Allies eyes widened with anticipation and she could barely contain her excitement. ‘Are you saying you’re going to view the cottage?’
Rory smiled. ‘There’s no harm in looking.’
These were the words Allie wanted to hear. She let out a squeal then flung her arms around his neck, giving him a suffocating hug.
‘Rory, you are the best!’ Pulling away, she took his face in her hands and kissed him all over numerous times.
‘Get off me, woman,’ he joked.
Allie was ecstatic. She knew once she got Rory to see the cottage he’d fall for her persuasive powers. ‘What made you change your mind?’
‘To be honest – you,’ he said, taking a sideways glance at her as they began to walk. ‘You were right; houses don’t come up for sale very often in Heartcross, but the last time I visited there it wasn’t pretty … I think you’re expecting it to all be kitted out with mod cons. The only thing I remember it having of any use was a roof!’
Allie stopped walking. ‘Are you saying it’s derelict?’ In her head she had visions of a shabby-chic kitchen with an island decorated with vases of beautiful blooms, vintage crockery, floral home furnishings and one of those posh stand-alone baths in the middle of the bathroom.
‘I’m saying James Kerr lived a very basic life. I think the pigsty was in a better condition than the cottage.’
Allie cocked an eyebrow. ‘So it’s a project?’ she asked, always up for a challenge.
‘An expensive project …’
‘An expensive project,’ Allie repeated. ‘How much of an expensive project?’
‘I’m thinking it would be cheaper to knock the whole thing down and start again.’
‘It’s that bad? But that would cost a fortune,’ she mused, raising an eyebrow. She never managed to save a penny from her wages from the pub. How could they ever afford to do this?
Even though her dream was tarnished slightly she wasn’t giving up hope.
‘It’s going to cost a fortune no matter what.’
‘But … it still has a gorgeous name,’ chipped in Allie dreamily. ‘Clover Cottage.’
‘There’s nothing Laura Ashley about it, believe me, and if I remember rightly it wouldn’t be somewhere you could move into straightaway. There weren’t even any carpets on the floor and, let’s face it, if there were they’d probably need ripping up.’
‘But that’s half the fun, making somewhere your own. A renovation project. Vintage furniture can be sourced cheaply these days from lots of online stores and charity shops.’
Rory wasn’t convinced there was anything fun about a renovation project. He remembered vividly the stress of returning from university in his second year to discover his parents had ripped out the bathroom and were installing a new one, and the dust was immense. His mother was stressed up to the eyeballs, especially with the endless cups of tea she was making for the builders all day long.
‘Mmm, let’s just take a look first. But no promises,’ said Rory in a firm tone, but he knew by the sparkle in Allie’s eye and the smile on her face she didn’t care what state it was in. She’d already got them moved in, alongside a couple of kids and no doubt numerous pets. He wasn’t one hundred per cent as convinced as her, and, if he was truly being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if this was really what he wanted at this moment. He loved Heartcross, but he knew he still had ambition outside the small village. Hearing about Clare had ignited his old ambition to see more of the world while he had no ties. If he began to renovate the cottage and move in with Allie, he knew that would most probably mean children soon after – and how would he ever manage to escape to fulfil his ambition then? He was certain Allie was his future but the timing for him wasn’t quite right now, especially with his current workload. The cottage would be a mammoth task – and could they even afford it? He knew he was more of a realist than she was: he ruled with his head whereas Allie followed her heart. But he could see how important it was to her, and there was no harm in taking a look.
‘What about the grounds surrounding Clover Cottage?’ Allie was intrigued. The particulars Stuart and Alana had shown them indicated that the cottage came with numerous acres, outbuildings and even another small property.
‘I never even thought to ask. I’m assuming James Kerr left it all to my father, but maybe not. That’s something I need to check with Dad. We don’t want to be living next door to just anyone.’
Allie agreed. ‘And what’s the plan? Are you moving back in with your parents? There’s room at the pub.’
Rory shrugged. ‘I’ve not even thought about it but I suppose I best had since the clock’s ticking. Maybe I should have a word with Isla – if one of her vans is good enough for Zach Hudson …’ he said laughing.
All along Love Heart Lane and the High Street, triangular coloured bunting was woven between the lamp posts and flapping in the light breeze. The weather was perfect, not too hot, the sun was shining and only a few clouds dotted the cobalt sky.
Allie and Rory followed the makeshift cardboard signs hammered into the grass verges that pointed to the village green. This afternoon Allie had offered to man the Pimm’s tent alongside her mum whilst her dad looked after the pub.
Allie loved this event; the mood was always jolly and it was so much fun to catch up with everyone. As they turned the corner the village green was unrecognisable. Small coloured tepees lined the edges, alongside trestle tables selling jams, chutneys and homemade jewellery and trinkets. There was something for everyone.
Alfie and Polly were standing at the entrance jangling their buckets for charity donations. Throwing a handful of coins into the bucket
Allie and Rory stepped onto the green. There were Finn and Esme parading Mop the baby alpaca around the field on her lead like it was the most natural thing in the world.
There were jugglers, stilt-walkers, balloon sellers and a bouncy castle. Families were sprawled out on their picnic rugs enjoying their day. Over at the far end of the green there was a live band playing on a makeshift stage with hay bales doubling as seating. Hamish was accompanying them on his fiddle. Children were running and squealing between the candyfloss and sweet stalls. There was a great stir of excitement all around. Isla was plodding along with one of the Shetland ponies from the farm, providing rides for the youngsters. The whole field was a medley of sights and sounds.
Felicity and Rona’s stall was stacked with the most delicious-looking pastries and cakes and had a queue a mile long eagerly awaiting their turn. Allie waved at Felicity, who was busy slicing cakes and popping them into paper bags.
‘I need one of those flapjacks before they sell out,’ said Allie, pulling Rory towards the queue. ‘I swear Flick could win awards for her baking.’ Felicity must have read her mind and quickly passed a bag over the tops of heads as Allie mouthed a thank you.
They carried on walking and spotted Fergus and Drew manning the hog roast, each with a beer in hand. Rory started walking in their direction until Allie tugged at his sleeve and nodded towards a multicoloured tepee with a makeshift bead-fringed curtain.
Allie laughed. ‘That’s hilarious,’ she said reading the sign out loud. ‘Have your fortune told today with Mystic Martha – £2 a go.’
‘Since when has Isla’s gran been a fortune-teller?’ asked Rory with a chuckle.
Allie tugged at his arm. ‘Come on.’
‘You cannot be serious. Since when has Martha had any sort of psychic powers or predicted any information about a person’s life?’ challenged Rory.
‘You’re not scared, are you?’ teased Allie, rummaging around in her bag to find her purse. ‘This could predict our future!’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ But before Rory could object any more Allie had pulled him to the entrance of the tent.
‘Keep an open mind – this could be interesting!’ she whispered, parting the curtain to reveal Mystic Martha sitting at a small round oak table, running her hands over a crystal ball that doubled as an upside-down glass ball lampshade.
Rory stifled a giggle and Allie shot him a warning glance. He couldn’t quite believe she was taking this all so seriously.
As they stepped inside, Martha looked up. She was hunched over, rubbing her hands slowly over the crystal ball, creating a mystical atmosphere. She was barely recognisable as Isla’s grandmother, and Allie was taken in by her appearance. Her hands were wrapped in fingerless gloves, her wrists laced with bangles and her bony fingers stacked with silver rings. Draped around her shoulders was a black shawl and from her tiny waist hung a black skirt edged with gold crescent moons. There was no denying she played the part well.
She stretched out her bony hand and gestured towards the empty chairs. Both Allie and Rory sat down in silence. Martha hadn’t faltered in her role once, and never acknowledged who they were.
Still rolling her hands over the crystal ball, she nodded towards the bowl on the table which was already filled with coins, so it looked like Allie and Rory weren’t her first guinea pigs of the day.
Allie placed the money in the bowl and looked towards Rory, who arched an eyebrow. She didn’t have to be a psychic to read his mind. He was wondering why he was even entertaining such a farce.
Not looking up from the ball Mystic Martha began to gaze with deep concentration. Her voice was low, eerie, causing the hairs on Allie’s arms to stand on end.
‘Just remember, your future is never set in stone … you are in charge of your own destiny.’
Rory gently kicked Allie under the table but she didn’t react, her gaze firmly fixed on Martha.
Then for a split second Martha stopped rolling her hands and a fleeting look of worry spread across her face, but quickly she composed herself.
‘What is it?’ asked Allie.
‘Changes, there are huge changes ahead … I see brand-new opportunities for you both in completely different directions.’ Martha gazed up at Rory. ‘I see a whole world out there and you are settling for something else … I see fame … I see travel … places afar.’ Martha’s eyes were drifting in and out of focus. ‘An extravagant gift divides you. And for you, dear girl’ – Martha now turned towards Allie – ‘I see upset. Don’t let opportunities slip through your fingers. You need to overcome your fears … Be brave,’ and with that Martha stopped stroking the ball, stood up and disappeared behind another section of the gazebo.
When Allie looked towards Rory he was rolling his eyes. ‘What an absolute load of codswallop,’ he muttered.
‘She’ll hear you,’ mouthed Allie bringing her fingers up to her lips to shush Rory.
‘It’s only Martha!’ exclaimed Rory, perplexed that Allie was taking this seriously. He parted the beaded curtains and blinked. He hadn’t realised how dim the tent had been until he stepped out into sunshine. Already there was a queue forming outside the tent, which took Rory by complete surprise.
‘Where to next? The hog roast to catch up with Drew and Fergus …’ It was only then he realised by the look on Allie’s face that her mood had slumped. ‘Whatever is the matter? Please don’t tell me you believe a word that Martha said?’ he asked in disbelief. ‘This is Martha we’re talking about. She’s made it all up as she’s gone along.’ He hoped Allie was going to burst out laughing, but she didn’t crack a smile.
‘Martha thinks you’re going to break my heart. Does she know something I don’t?’
‘How have you deduced that from that conversation? You must be seriously winding me up. And that’s not what she said anyway. She said brand-new opportunities in different directions.’
‘“An extravagant gift divides you.”’
‘Allie, you are being really silly. I’m not even having this conversation,’ Rory said, pulling her in for a hug and kissing the tip of her nose. ‘You are just being daft,’ he said with a chuckle.
‘Don’t laugh at me. You can’t mess around with psychic powers.’
‘Mystic Martha has a lot to answer for. I can’t even believe you are letting her get to you. Martha is no more a fortune-teller than you or me,’ insisted Rory. ‘Now come on, let’s go and get a drink. I think I’m in need of a pint after that.’
Allie knew she was being daft and Rory was talking sense but somewhere in the back of her mind was a niggle about what Martha had revealed. The words settling for something else were etched on her mind. Did that mean Rory was settling for her?
Noticing her mood wasn’t lifting, Rory gave her a long-suffering look, ‘Stop thinking about it, otherwise this day is going to be ruined.’
Allie fixed a smile on her face, ‘Okay, okay … but you would tell me if you weren’t happy?’
‘Of course I would, but we don’t need this conversation because I am happy. Now not another word about it,’ urged Rory, tilting Allie’s face towards him and kissing her firmly on the lips. ‘And …’
Allie’s stomach lurched. ‘And what?’ she asked, her voice faltering.
‘I’ve already agreed to go and see the cottage. I’ll talk to Mum and Dad today and apologise for my outburst. I’ll eat humble pie and all that.’
Allie tried hard to repress the wide grin that was about to burst on to her face at any second. ‘Are you sure?’ she quickly added, trying not to sound too keen, though there was no denying she was secretly glad he was coming round to the idea, or at least had changed his mind about viewing it.
‘I’ve said I’ll go and have a look – but remember, there’s a whole bunch of factors to consider including the cost of it all. Now come on, let’s enjoy our day,’ he insisted, taking her by the hand. ‘Mystic Martha knows nothing,’ he said reassuringly, pressing a swift kiss to her cheek.
As they walke
d Allie felt better, but she thought again about what Mystic Martha had said. Even though she knew Martha had led a colourful life, she had no recollection of Isla ever telling any stories about Martha’s psychic powers. Allie had never queried her and Rory’s future together until his reaction over the cottage, and now Mystic Martha’s prediction was firmly on her mind.
‘I see upset.’
Of course, Allie wanted to think the stupid reading had no bearing on their relationship. She was passionate about their future and hoped she was overreacting, but after Rory’s outburst at his parents’ house she couldn’t deny that slight niggle. It just wouldn’t disappear from the back of her mind.
Chapter 4
Allie and Rory found themselves heading towards the hog roast, where Drew and Fergus were both in a cheery mood. Next to them Baby Angus was sitting up in the pram, shielded from the sun under an umbrella attached to the hood of his pushchair and bashing the hell out of a green T-Rex dinosaur. Flitting her eyes around the green Allie found herself scanning the area for the superstar Zach Hudson. As she looked towards a small group of giggling girls gathered at the far end of the green, she knew he couldn’t be too far away – and she was right: there he was, being pulled along by an over-excited black labrador that seemed to be attracting a crowd all by itself. Allie couldn’t help but stare in his direction. Even from a distance she was impressed with Zach’s physique and good looks, and her heart gave a little flutter.
Zach Hudson had seemed to catapult to fame overnight. He had the ability to light up the screen and make every girl swoon after him in a matter of seconds. He appeared on the cover of magazines, his likes on Instagram were off the scale and his tweets were instantly retweeted all over the world. And here he was, walking around the green in a tiny village in the Scottish Highlands, taking it all in his stride.
Allie prayed she wouldn’t make a fool of herself like the last (and only) time she met one of her idols. She and Isla had been poised by the computer patiently waiting for 9am, when the tickets went on sale for their favourite band, Take That. They’d spent the next five minutes refreshing their browsers, and after successfully buying two tickets, the day came for them to travel to London, spend the night in a swanky hotel and watch their favourite band. This was the only time Allie wished she’d ordered anything off the menu other than a spinach pizza. When they literally bumped into Gary Barlow in the lift, she had been starstruck, lost for words, and all she could do was smile from ear to ear, though Isla was frantically shaking her head at her. Allie had two floors to pluck up the courage to speak to him and as they trundled towards the ground floor a babble of word vomit spilt out as she shakily held her phone up for a selfie. It was only when he stepped out of the lift and she looked at the treasured photo that she saw the terrible smile of green teeth – not a photo she would be uploading to social media any time soon.
Clover Cottage: A feel good cosy read perfect for your summer holiday reading (Love Heart Lane Series, Book 3) Page 4
