by Emma Davies
‘It’s so weird,’ added Flora. ‘I mean, Fraser’s fine. He’s recovering beautifully from his operation, just gone five months now. I won’t deny it’s been tough but we’re in a much better position than we’ve been for a long while.’
‘But?’
Flora smiled. ‘But… Fraser won’t set foot in here.’
Amos thought for a moment. ‘No, I can understand that. It’s his what if,’ he said. ‘We all have them.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘His what if. You know… what if this had happened. If he had died… Too many memories locked in there. Sometimes we almost need to keep them, as a reminder that we’re okay, that the worst didn’t happen. But for some, it’s too much.’
Flora stared at him. ‘You’re exactly right!’ she exclaimed. ‘But short of knocking the sheds down, I haven’t been sure how to improve the situation. What I do know, however, is that these buildings are a valuable resource, and it seems criminal not to use them. So, I’ve been thinking…’ She turned back to look at the shed again. ‘In fact, I can’t stop thinking – about Grace.’
Amos smiled. ‘You too?’
‘Really? I just hope she’s okay… Grace is the loveliest person you could ever wish to meet and she helped me a lot when I first came here. I think she understood what it felt like to be so lacking in confidence…’ She looked up at Amos. ‘She wasn’t always like that apparently, and she puts a brave face on it, making light of things, but apart from coming here or going to work in the shop, Grace hardly ever goes out. I can’t bear to think of her being treated so badly, or losing the house, her garden…’
‘The bees…’
‘Exactly! And then I got to thinking about our conversation last night and what she might do, what we might be able to do to help her, and that’s when I began to think about the sheds.’
‘Go on…’
‘Well, I’ve always had a mind to expand what we do here in time. At the moment it’s all we can do to keep up with the planting, but I would love to have a shop here in due course, or run workshops, something anyway…’
Amos could see she was buzzing with excitement.
‘But what I don’t know is how easy it would be to make something of the buildings here, what our options might be. And, more to the point, what it might cost.’
‘Which is where I come in…’
‘Would you mind?’ asked Flora. ‘In my head these ideas were originally way off, something we might get to at some point, but now I’m thinking that Fraser needs to move on from all of this, and whatever happens with Grace is going to have to happen pretty damned quickly.’
Amos nodded. ‘Let me take a look,’ he said, thinking rapidly. He pulled open the door once more and strode first of all to the far end of the shed, looking up to the roof where a false ceiling had been added at some point. He was pretty sure that above it would be the building’s original wooden rafters. The walls were bare but looked in good condition, and the windows were sound. A central concrete pathway split the shed down the middle, with a raised walkway on either side, flanked by metal railings. It was on these that the cows would have stood to be milked.
Flora walked up the path towards him. ‘When it was in operation as a milking shed it was hard to see beyond the machinery and you couldn’t think with the incessant clanking.’ She shuddered. ‘And then after Fraser got ill I spent as little time in here as possible.’
Amos was staring at the windows. ‘It’s an old building though,’ he said. ‘Which in many ways makes it far more adaptable than if it were a modern shell.’ He frowned. ‘Hang on a minute,’ he said, ducking back outside and walking the length of the building. Now that was interesting…
Ten minutes or so later when they were both back outside, Amos delivered his verdict. ‘The only real issue I can see is that the raised walkways are made of concrete. They could be removed but it would be messy and expensive and so if you could come up with a use where they could be an asset or made into a feature then so much the better. I would also suggest you remove the ceiling and leave the interior open to the rafters.’ He pointed to rows of windows along the side of the shed. ‘See, two rows of windows… and the bottom set are nice and clean while the top set…’
Flora had a puzzled expression on her face. ‘Two rows of windows?’ she queried. She looked at Amos. ‘But inside…’ She peered back through the door of the shed before turning back to look at Amos. ‘Inside there’s only one row,’ she continued.
‘Indeed… Because the second set is above the false ceiling,’ supplied Amos. He grinned at her. ‘Just imagine what the space would look like with the ceiling removed. Rising to the vaulted roof, exposed beams, flooded with masses of natural light…’
‘Of course! Oh, God, it could look stunning, Amos.’
He could see her mind beginning to explore the possibilities, the smile on her face getting bigger and bigger.
‘Did that answer your question?’ he said. ‘I think there are all sorts of possibilities here, and to convert the basic space wouldn’t take much, both in terms of time and in cost. How much longer it takes and how much more it costs would obviously depend on what you ultimately want to use the building for.’
He studied her face, now lost in thought. ‘So, are you still thinking about Grace?’
She turned to look in the direction of Grace’s house. ‘Very much so. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens. I do hope she’s okay.’
Amos followed her line of sight. He hoped so too.
The sun had reached the highest point in the sky when Amos stopped for a break, stretching his back and wriggling his shoulders to relax them. He had nearly finished taking out the loose mortar from one whole section of wall and was just about to go and get some water when he saw Hannah coming towards him from the direction of the farmhouse, carrying a tray. He raised his hand in greeting.
‘Goodness it’s warm,’ she said as she reached him. ‘We shouldn’t complain, it’s bringing on the flowers beautifully, but not so much fun when you’re out in it all day with no shade.’ She lifted the tray, indicating that he should take a drink. There were three glasses, already full, and a tall jug of what looked like homemade lemonade. Amos took one and downed the contents in one go.
He grinned. ‘Absolutely delicious,’ he said. ‘And very welcome, thank you.’
Hannah beamed with pleasure. ‘It’s thirsty work,’ she said. ‘And you’ve been at it non-stop.’
‘Are the other drinks for Flora and Ned?’ he asked, knowing that they were out in the field. ‘Would you like me to take them down for you?’
‘Oh, could you? I can get on with lunch then.’ She passed the tray across to Amos. ‘And when it’s ready you must all stop and have a proper break. From what Flora was saying earlier there might be lots to discuss. It’s so exciting, and that’s not something I ever thought I’d hear myself say.’
Amos watched as Hannah walked back to the house, a warm smile on his face. Now there was someone who had been through the wringer and was revelling in the joy to be found on the other side. He adjusted his grip on the tray and set off through the garden.
Reaching the field, he carried the drinks to the small shed that sat a little way from the gate, setting the tray down on a table before scanning the rows of flowers. Even among the blooms, Flora was easy to spot with her bright-orange leggings and blue smock. Ned, in khaki shorts, tee shirt and matching hat, wasn’t quite so obvious. Eventually Amos spied him, right at the far end of the field. Sticking two fingers in his mouth, he gave a piercing whistle. An arm was raised to signify that Amos’s signal had been heard and the two bent heads lifted, bodies straightening.
He had a glass in each hand ready for when Flora and Ned finally reached him, picking their way through the rows of flowers; hot, tired and sweaty from a morning’s back-breaking work.
Flora pressed her glass against the side of her face, relishing the coolness, and then, like him, she drank the contents in
one go. Beside her Ned grinned, his face pink from the sun.
‘Well, it’s official. We are completely bonkers.’
‘Indeed,’ replied Amos. ‘Mad dogs and Englishmen…’
Flora giggled. ‘Even your freckles have freckles,’ she said, laying an affectionate hand on Ned’s cheek. ‘Whatever you do, don’t take off your hat.’ She peered at him. ‘You are a bit rosy,’ she said. ‘When I had my idiot idea for transforming the farm to grow flowers, I didn’t factor in that half of the workforce were redheads!’
Ned rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Well at least the sunburn detracts from the pain in my back and shoulders,’ he said, but he was grinning. ‘We’re getting there though. We’ve almost finished the last bit of planting out and then we’re done until the autumn—’
‘When we start all over again with the bulbs,’ finished Flora. ‘We missed out on these this year, but it will extend our growing season no end.’ She looked out across the field, smiling with pride at their accomplishment.
Amos doubled back to the shed to collect the jug and his own glass, refilling them all. ‘To Hope Blooms,’ he said, raising his glass. He was about to clink it with Flora’s when she suddenly waved.
‘Grace!’ she shouted. ‘Come and join us.’ She handed her glass back to Amos, walking forward.
Amos turned slightly to see Grace picking her way along the edge of the field. Her slender form was elegant as always, unhurried and seemingly relaxed, but Amos knew instinctively that he was about to find out whether he was to become a trainee beekeeper. He took Ned’s glass as well, replacing them all on the tray.
‘Oh, I do hope it’s good news,’ Flora added.
‘Don’t bank on it,’ muttered Ned. ‘You know what Paul’s like.’
By the time Grace reached them, an air of expectancy had risen, so much so that Grace laughed. ‘Goodness, you all look as if you’re waiting to find out whether it’s a boy or a girl.’
But her face immediately fell as she turned to look at Amos; there was a tightness behind her eyes that he took for unshed tears. He was struck by the way she held herself – even though he could see that what she was going to say next was difficult for her.
‘To bee, or not to bee?’ he murmured softly.
‘Yes indeed… that is the question,’ she replied with a sad smile. ‘To which the answer is a resounding yes,’ she added. ‘I am going to need your help Amos, if you’re still willing. I’m going to need everyone’s help. I don’t think I can do this on my own.’
‘Oh, Grace.’ Flora pulled the older woman into a warm hug, the strength of their friendship removing the years between them. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Grace held her tight before pulling away, drawing herself up straight. ‘No, no tears. I won’t let Paul have the satisfaction. Besides, I need a clear head, not one muddled by emotion.’
‘Do you want to come up to the house?’ asked Ned. ‘We’ve just stopped for a bit of a break as it happens and, you know Mum, the kettle’s always boiling. Come and have a cup of tea.’
‘I don’t want to hold any of you up, I know how busy you are.’
‘Grace,’ said Ned firmly. ‘I am beginning to feel and look like a boiled lobster. You will be doing me a very great favour if you give me any kind of excuse to get out of the sun.’
‘Oh yes, please come up, Grace,’ urged Flora. ‘Hannah and Fraser will want to hear what’s happened, and we’ve been having a think too. There’s so much to talk about.’
Grace checked her watch. ‘I have to be back by two o’clock,’ she said. ‘The estate agent is coming.’
‘The same one as yesterday?’ asked Amos, thoughts beginning to swirl around his head.
She nodded. ‘Altogether far too keen.’
Hmm, well, we’ll see about that, thought Amos. ‘Then we’ve no time to lose,’ he said, standing back and ushering Grace onto the path ahead of him. Ned took her arm as Flora fell back to walk with Amos.
She let them walk on ahead a little way. ‘What are you up to?’ she whispered.
Amos put his hand over his heart. ‘Me?’ he said innocently. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Yes, you do. I can see it written all over your face. You’re plotting something.’
But Amos simply smiled. ‘As if I would,’ he said.
9
Hannah rushed over as soon as they walked through the kitchen door.
‘Come and sit down, Grace,’ she said. ‘You’ll be needing a cup of tea.’
Ned shot Flora an amused ‘I told you so’ glance, and then to Amos’s surprise Grace groaned.
‘I’ll sit down, but dear God, no more tea. I’m sick of the sight of the stuff. Actually, what I could do with is a massive slab of chocolate, or a big thick scone, laden with jam and clotted cream.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Flora.
‘I know,’ said Grace sighing. ‘And I don’t usually eat chocolate, but right now I could eat my entire body weight in the stuff.’ She took a seat at the table.
‘I can cut you a slab of fruit cake. Would that do?’ asked Hannah.
‘Fruit cake?’ asked Fraser, coming into the room. ‘Where have you hidden that? I never get cake…’ he grumbled.
‘Oh, go on with you,’ she replied, smiling fondly. ‘Anyway, lunch is almost ready and the cake is for dessert, so come and sit down everyone.’
‘May I help?’ asked Amos, reluctant to take a seat before anyone else.
‘Thank you. If you pop into the pantry through there, you’ll find a fresh loaf and a dish of strawberries, I’ll get the rest from the fridge. Perhaps you could see to the cutlery, Flora dear?’
Moments later when they were all settled, Hannah cleared her throat. ‘Now then, Grace. You must tell us all what’s happened.’
‘Mum!’ admonished Ned. ‘Grace might not even want to talk about it just now.’
‘Don’t be silly, dear, of course she does; we’re her oldest friends. Besides, if we don’t know what’s going on, how can we possibly help?’
Amos looked up from his seat beside Fraser at the end of the table but Grace was smiling, no doubt used to Hannah’s forthright manner.
‘There’s not much to tell, actually,’ replied Grace. ‘As I’ve already told the others, an estate agent is coming this afternoon to take further details of the house and it will be going on the market. I haven’t heard from Paul since he left, but I assume that if he had wanted to cancel the agent’s visit he could have done.’
‘But what about the information you were sending to his boss?’ asked Flora. ‘Doesn’t Paul realise what that could do to his career?’
‘Actually, I’ve already had a visit from Paul’s boss. He arrived about ten this morning and must have driven like a maniac to get here so early. But Dominic was only checking on his investment, seeing how far I was prepared to push things or whether I had sent the information to anyone outside of the network. Paul is the proverbial goose that lays the golden egg and Dominic is not about to do anything which will damage that, not unless there’s a real threat to the organisation.’
‘So, Paul’s going to get off scot-free?’ argued Ned. ‘I don’t believe it, that’s insane. It’s criminal. It’s—’
‘Only what I expected,’ replied Grace evenly. ‘I won’t take the information any further because I have no wish to sully myself with it. But, I have left it with Dominic. He is now its gatekeeper and I have made it very clear that I don’t want to lose the house.’
Ned frowned. ‘But Grace, that’s giving him carte blanche to ignore it.’
‘That’s one way of looking at it, but I like to think that what I’m doing is giving Dominic the opportunity to be the better person. To do what’s right given what happened, even to try and make amends…’ She stopped and thought for a few seconds. ‘Your mum and dad both know this, but Dominic made a pass at me a couple of years ago. He’d had far too much to drink and I sent him packing with his tail between his legs. This morning was the first time I’v
e seen him since that night, but before that he and I always got on well and I think, underneath his brash and somewhat vain exterior, there is a good man trying to get out from under the spell that showbiz has cast on him. I’d like to give him the chance to find out.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’ said Ned. ‘You could lose the house, Grace.’
‘I could lose it anyway.’
‘Grace and decorum,’ said Amos quietly.
Grace stared at him. ‘Say that again?’
Amos looked up, startled at her tone, and repeated the phrase.
‘That’s what my mother used to say,’ Grace replied. ‘All the time.’ She laid an absent-minded hand across her heart. ‘Goodness, I haven’t heard that in years. Grace and decorum in all things.’
‘Wise words,’ said Amos, a soft smile spreading over his face at the wistful note to her voice.
‘Yes,’ said Grace slowly. ‘Yes they are…’ Her brown eyes held his until he was aware of only the sound of his heart beating.
The clatter of a knife broke the moment and Grace laughed. ‘Crikey, that was a bit of a trip down memory lane. Sorry…’ She looked around as if to orientate herself. ‘What was I saying?’
‘About the house… and Dominic,’ prompted Flora.
‘Oh yes. Well he could choose to do absolutely nothing, but he did say he would do what he could to get Paul to change his mind about selling, and I do believe he will. Whether Paul takes any notice of course is another matter.’ She brightened her expression. ‘But, it’s done now, and I will simply have to wait and see, and in the meantime…’
Flora leaned forward.
‘Provided I do get to keep the house of course… I think I would like to open a guest house. I used to enjoy looking after everyone when I hosted the weekends for Paul, but his hateful behaviour ruined it. With him gone, I thought I might just manage it again.’
Flora clasped her hands together in excitement. ‘Oh, I knew it,’ she exclaimed. ‘I think that’s a wonderful idea, Grace, and you’ll be absolutely brilliant at it.’
