The Beekeeper’s Cottage: An absolutely unputdownable feel-good summer read

by Emma Davies

Zac exchanged a look with Riley. ‘Well, all I can say is that Paul is an even bigger idiot than I thought he was. But, for your sake, I’m glad that you’re striking out on your own. You deserve better, Grace, I sincerely hope you find it.’

  She swallowed. It was a lovely thing to say, and they had been incredibly kind and thoughtful to give her the consideration they had, but it was over for her now. The weekend had proved to be the final nail in the coffin as far as keeping the house was concerned, and the irony was that none of it was her fault. Dominic had made Paul agree to give her the house if she did nothing this weekend to his detriment, but she hadn’t needed to – he had failed all by himself. What made it worse was that Paul was so arrogant, thinking he had the Midas touch, that he had even managed to place the onus for this weekend squarely on her shoulders, and she had been so desperate, she had let him. She had prostituted herself to keep her house, so what did that make her?

  ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘I have some good friends. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘And I sincerely hope Amos is one of them,’ replied Zac, a twinkle in his eye. ‘He thinks the world of you, you know, and if I were you, I would make him a very good friend…’

  Grace looked up, frowning. ‘Amos?’ He’d been in her head almost constantly throughout the day, but she was surprised to find him in someone else’s.

  Zac grinned. ‘Yes, Amos. We got chatting after the palaver with the tyre this morning. I went to say thank you and to apologise for Paul treating him like a servant and he asked me if I was enjoying my stay.’ He pursed his lips in amusement. ‘I might have mentioned your many talents and he rather waxed lyrical in return. I could quote him if you like.’

  ‘No, don’t.’ Grace put her hands to her cheeks, blushing. ‘I get the idea.’ She smiled at both men. ‘I am still glad you enjoyed your weekend, just sorry it didn’t turn out quite the way you wanted it to.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ replied Zac. ‘I don’t suppose you’d like a job, would you?’

  She stared at him. ‘A job? Oh, come on… what would I do?’

  He dipped his head a little. ‘Forgive me, I’m being mischievous, but… what we do need from time to time is a good location somewhere in the UK – to use as a film or studio set. Admittedly I’m rather talking off the top of my head here, but have a think about it. If the idea interests you, get in touch.’ He pulled a card from the inside pocket of his jacket and laid it on the table. ‘You never know when these are going to come in handy.’

  He flashed a grin at Riley. ‘Right then, I think it’s time we said goodnight and let Grace get to bed.’ His face fell slightly. ‘Not that you need your beauty sleep at all, but I hope we haven’t said anything that will keep you awake. It was just important to us that you knew how things stood.’

  Grace looked at the card on the table, the stark irony of what had just been offered almost making her laugh again, but she smiled instead. ‘No, not at all. In fact, I don’t think your decision is a surprise, not really, but I am grateful to you for your honesty and consideration, and of course, the heaping of praise, that was lovely too.’

  Zac got to his feet. ‘Then sweet dreams, Grace. I know I for one shall be dreaming about tomorrow’s breakfast.’

  Riley laughed. ‘Goodnight, Grace. And thank you,’ he said, rising.

  Grace’s thoughts were already racing far ahead, and in one direction only, but she dragged herself back to the present just in time before the two men disappeared through the door.

  ‘When will you tell Paul?’ she asked. ‘Will it be before you leave?’

  They both looked at one another. ‘That would have been our original intention, yes,’ replied Zac. ‘But under the circumstances, I think it might be… easier, if we get in touch at some point afterward. It won’t look unusual.’

  She nodded. ‘Thank you.’ That weight at least now lifted from her mind.

  And then she was alone. She waited a couple of minutes until she was certain that Zac and Riley would have made it as far as their bedrooms and then, as quietly as she could, she slid the patio door back open and slipped into the garden.

  There was no way of knowing whether Amos would be there or not, but she had to find out. It was very late and it wasn’t rational at all, but Grace didn’t care. There was only one person who she wanted to see, had wanted to be with all day, and it had taken a virtual stranger to point out a fact she had been trying so hard to ignore, and worse she really didn’t know why…

  She slipped past the apple tree and began to drop down the slope where the beehives lay. If Amos was here, she was pretty certain she knew where to find him, but as she drew closer, her heart began to sink. The grass stretched out on either side of her, dappled in the moonlight and dotted with daisies, but otherwise completely empty of anything resembling the man she had fallen in love with.

  20

  Despite herself, Grace was surprised to find she was full of energy the next morning. She hadn’t slept particularly well, but that had nothing to do with the news that Zac and Riley had imparted the night before. In fact, if anything she was glad to have found out about the contract in advance; the knowledge brought with it a certain freedom and resolution of thought. Grace might not particularly like it, but at least she knew where she stood. It brought to an end weeks of uncertainty and, much to her surprise, the pain she’d thought she would feel on knowing that she had lost the house wasn’t all-consuming at all.

  She had half expected Zac to appear with his book again this morning, but there had been no sign of him and she had taken her tea alone. He was probably giving her a little space, she realised, but she didn’t mind; making brunch would take up enough of her time, and soon everyone would be gone and she could do as she pleased once more. And now, she knew exactly what that was going to be. The sound of the shower running started over her head and she glanced at the clock. Paul would make sure he was up well before everyone else this morning, but today she wouldn’t even mind his company. It had ceased to matter.

  He appeared about half an hour later, reeking of aftershave and trying to look casual in a nonetheless very carefully chosen pair of chinos and a white shirt. He might have pulled off the more relaxed look if his face hadn’t been set with a smug grin that showed no sign of leaving. Knowing full well what his movements would be, Grace had already made a pot of coffee and Paul crossed to it now, pouring himself a generous mug.

  ‘Not long now, Gracie,’ he said.

  She winced at the use of his old pet name for her, one he hadn’t used in a long time. However, as she watched him, she realised he hadn’t meant anything by it; his mind was very firmly on himself.

  ‘One final push, as they say,’ he added. ‘But that’s obviously just going through the motions. They’ve already made up their minds.’

  Grace nodded, turning her face away slightly so that he wouldn’t see her expression. ‘Yes, I guess so.’

  ‘So, you were down here with them last night, did you catch anything?’

  She flicked a glance back in his direction. ‘No, they went outside for a cigarette. There was the odd laugh, but I couldn’t hear anything else. Besides, I was clattering around the kitchen just tidying up, I wasn’t really listening.’

  He sipped his coffee, watching her over the rim of his mug. ‘It all sounded pretty relaxed though?’

  ‘I would say so, yes. They came in after a bit and said goodnight, all smiles, charming, same as all weekend really.’ It wasn’t exactly a lie but Grace was still keen to deflect the conversation onto safer topics. ‘Do you know what time everyone is leaving?’

  ‘Around midday, I believe. You’ve got everything planned for breakfast, I assume.’ It was a statement, not a question, and she wondered what he would do if she said no.

  ‘Then I’ll aim to serve a bit before eleven, no need to rush.’

  He nodded, looking her up and down. ‘You will get changed though, won’t you?’

  She looked down at her jeans and tee shirt, which were clean
and perfectly presentable.

  ‘Yes, okay.’

  She was fed up of being told what to do, but she didn’t want to antagonise Paul either, there was still the tricky issue of his comment about Amos to be broached. Paul didn’t say anything without reason, but even though she had spent a huge amount of time last night thinking about what he said, she didn’t want to make a big deal over it. It was quite likely that there was very little to it, just Paul trying to be manipulative as usual.

  ‘Good, I don’t want anything to go wrong at the last minute.’

  ‘Well, it’s a beautiful morning. I thought I’d put coffee and a selection of pastries out on the patio table in a bit, and then as folks appear they can help themselves until—’ She broke off as her phone began to ring and frowned before connecting the call, turning away from Paul for a little privacy.

  ‘Morning, Flora, is everything all right?’ She knew it wasn’t early for her neighbour to be up and about, but it was early for her to be calling.

  There was a pause at the other end of the line and Grace could hear a muffled voice in the background.

  ‘Yes, it’s fine… I just wondered if you’d seen Amos this morning?’

  Grace was aware of Paul’s eyes boring into the back of her head. ‘No, why?’ Flora was trying to be casual about it, but Grace could tell there was more to her question than just a simple enquiry. And there it was again, the voice in the background.

  ‘I just needed a hand with something, that’s all, and he doesn’t appear to be around. He’s probably gone for a walk or something, but I just wondered whether he might be with you.’

  ‘I haven’t seen him…’ She paused, wondering how much she could say within Paul’s earshot. ‘But it’s possible he’s in the garden. Do you want me to go and have a look?’ She declined to mention that he’d taken to sleeping there.

  ‘There’s no rush, Grace, I can wait, just if you spot him.’

  Which was, of course, completely untrue. If Flora could wait and there really was no urgency, then why was she ringing?

  Grace made her voice light. ‘I’ll pop down now, it’s no bother. I’ll ring you back, okay?’ She cut the call without waiting for Flora’s reply.

  ‘Problem?’ asked Paul as she turned back.

  ‘No… just need to pass a message on, that’s all.’

  She moved past him and headed out of the patio doors, waiting until she was halfway across the lawn before ringing Flora back. She hadn’t even checked to see if Amos was in the garden. He wasn’t there last night and he wasn’t there now; she could feel his absence, like a piece of her was missing.

  The phone rang twice before it was answered. ‘What’s going on, Flora? I can talk now.’

  There was a long pause, full of anguish. ‘Oh, Grace… I think Amos has gone.’

  Grace closed her eyes, feeling dread bloom in the pit of her stomach. ‘What do you mean, he’s gone?’ She needed to hear Flora say it, so there could be no doubt.

  ‘He didn’t appear this morning, which is unusual, and at first I didn’t think anything of it, but then it just began to feel… odd. I don’t really know how to explain it. So I had Ned go over to the cottage, but his rucksack had gone… and he’s taken my painting down from the wall…’

  Grace was still marching through the garden and had reached the top of the slope. ‘Come into the field, Flora, I’ll meet you there.’

  She ended the call once more and concentrated on moving as fast as she could. Why would Amos do that? Hadn’t he promised he would never leave without saying goodbye? Besides, Amos would never just up sticks and move on without saying anything, not unless he had good reason…

  She met Flora halfway across the field, running the last few metres until the two women stood looking at one another. Flora was the first to move, throwing her arms around Grace.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, hugging her close. ‘I don’t know what’s happened. I thought he was a bit quiet yesterday, but I didn’t read anything into it and I certainly didn’t think he was planning on leaving.’ She drew away, searching Grace’s face.

  It would have been impossible for Grace to explain to Flora previously how she felt about Amos, given that she had only just admitted it to herself, but in that instant she could see that she didn’t need to. Flora was newly married, in the first flush of love, she knew what it felt like to have lost her heart.

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ she whispered. ‘It was nothing you did, it was nothing any of us did…’ But the moment Grace said it, she knew she was wrong. Because there was someone who could well have done something. She turned and looked back up in the direction of the house. Her eyes narrowed. ‘And you’re sure he’s gone?’

  Flora nodded sadly. ‘Everything he had, which admittedly wasn’t much, has gone…’ She trailed off. ‘But even that doesn’t account for it somehow.’ She pulled a face. ‘A lot more than just the man himself has gone, certainly more than what arrived with him. Does that make any sense at all?’ It did, it made perfect sense.

  ‘There’s an Amos-shaped hole in Hope Corner,’ replied Grace, feeling suddenly desolate. ‘And I don’t know what to do about it.’

  ‘He can’t have gone far, but I have no idea what time he left. Ned has already said he’ll go out and look for him; drive the lanes and see if he can find him.’

  Grace shook her head. ‘I have a feeling that if Amos doesn’t want to be found, then there’s almost no point looking.’

  ‘But we can’t give up.’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’ She looked back at the house again, feeling her despair turning to anger. ‘I said there’s almost no point looking, but if you know where he’s gone, there’s every point.’

  Flora looked quizzical. ‘But we don’t know where he has gone… do we?’

  Grace gritted her teeth. ‘No, but I know a man who does.’ She took hold of Flora’s arms and gave them a squeeze. ‘I have to get back,’ she said. ‘But I’ll call you, soon, I promise.’ She took a couple of steps. ‘I think I may just have lost everything I thought I ever wanted, but in doing so I’ve found the one thing I really do want. I’m not going to let that slide through my fingers now.’

  ‘Of course! Oh, Grace… the weekend… I never even asked you how it was going.’

  Grace took a few more steps. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ she said. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll be in touch.’

  She hurried back towards the house, giving a bemused Flora a farewell wave as she reached the edge of the field and began to climb the slope into her garden. Her breath was ragged as she climbed, anger fuelling the muscles in her legs, and she had just drawn level with the hives when she stopped. She could hear the steady thrum from within, the bees at their busiest, and she frowned, suddenly remembering how these bees had found their way to her – a phone call from a nearby farm to say that they were hanging from a tree and if she had room could she come and collect them. And she had, boxing the bees up in the age-old way and placing them at the foot of her empty hive. When she opened the box, she watched as the bees began to explore, instinct taking over until, as one, they began to move up the ramp, following their queen into the hive. These same bees had now grown in number and were busy and productive and happy. There was nothing special about her hive, no reason why the bees should choose it over any other. All she had done was provide the right conditions and the bees, knowing this, had made it their home. It could have been anywhere.

  She ran the rest of the way, hurtling into the kitchen, praying that Paul was still there, and that he was alone. He looked up as she came in, sitting at the table, relaxed and utterly unaware of what was about to happen. She could see the expression change instantly on his face as he realised what kind of mood she was in, but this was Grace, who didn’t usually say boo to a goose, and who certainly wouldn’t cause a fuss now, would she…?

  He recoiled as she placed a palm down on the table opposite him and leaned across, jabbing the forefinger of her other hand towards Paul’
s chest.

  ‘What did you say to Amos?’ she snarled. ‘And don’t you dare lie to me.’

  A slow smile broke over his face. ‘Why?’ he said. ‘Missing him?’

  She had a sudden urge to hit him, to wipe the smug smile off his face. In the split second it took for the thought to flash through her mind, she saw an image of herself doing just that, the delicious surprise as she decked him one, and the total disbelief that she could ever be capable of anything like that. The thought buoyed her up – Paul had no idea what she was capable of. And truly, before that moment, neither did she.

  ‘Answer the question,’ she hissed. ‘We both know he’s gone, just as we both know that you’re the reason he has. So, I’ll ask you again, what did you say to him?’

  ‘Moderate your voice, Grace. I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was married to a fishwife.’

  ‘No? Or that I’m married to a total bastard perhaps? Don’t worry, Paul, no one has to wonder about that, they already know it.’ She glared at him, chest heaving.

  His gaze flickered to the door as he swallowed a little nervously. He wanted to ask her what she meant, but he wouldn’t, not yet anyway.

  ‘Very well then, have it your own way. I simply suggested to Amos that given his past, which no doubt he has taken great pains to avoid having to discuss, he might find it better if he moved on, just in case someone were to reveal all.’ He smiled. ‘Well I did tell you, Grace, that if ever you wanted to find out where he really came from, you only had to ask…’

  ‘So tell me,’ she said, the challenge clear in her voice.

  ‘Really? You want to know?’

  ‘I don’t care what he’s supposedly done, Paul. After all it can be no worse than anything you’ve done – the difference is that Amos has remained a decent, kind and caring human being. Besides, I don’t suppose you do know anything about Amos – how could you? You’re just resorting to your usual bully-boy tactics because that’s what you do, Paul, it’s what you’ve always done.’