by Beth Good
Because he didn’t call.
Not the next day, nor the next. On the third day, tired and grumpy after another crazily busy day at work, she’d barely got home when her phone rang. Her heart jumped but it was only Ivy, ringing with a complaint. ‘I do wish you would control your cat, Hannah. He’s here again,’ she said crossly, ‘and I’ve told you that Colin has allergies.’
Ivy had described the ‘marvellous’ Colin down the phone, who had done wonders for her bad back, but Hannah had not yet met this miracle-worker. To tell the truth, she was a little curious about him, and under different circumstances, would have dashed round there straightaway to take a peek at her neighbour’s sixty-year-old toy boy. But her growing depression over Daniel’s departure had put everything else out of her head.
She missed him, she thought wretchedly.
But life had to go on.
So she apologised to her neighbour, and said wearily, ‘I’ll come across the road and get him, Ivy. Just give me a minute to get my coat on.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was snowing again, and the world outside was pure white, gleaming under a darkening sky. The narrow country roads round where she lived hadn’t cleared from the last bout, and the new snowfall was leaving yet more inches on frozen inches. In wellies, she trudged up her path through crunchy snow, and out into the wetter slush of the road, which was crisscrossed with tractor prints from Mr Smirthwaite’s most recent comings and goings.
She eyed the gloomy sky to the north with misgiving. If the snow carried on falling like this for even a few more days, they were going to have problems.
Her feet left prints in the untrodden drive, and for once the gravel was silent as Hannah approached Abbey Villa. The thought made her sad, so she banished it, forcing a cheery smile to her lips as Ivy met her at the back door.
‘You naughty cat, Pepper,’ she said, shaking her head at the cat in Ivy’s arms. ‘I’m so sorry, Ivy.’
Behind the old lady, Hannah caught a glimpse of her new friend, a robust-looking man with bi-focals perched on the tip of his nose and a seriously receding hairline. He was wearing casual corduroy trousers, and a Vicar of Dibley T-shirt under an ill-fitting green cardigan. So that’s Colin, she thought, and raised a hand in greeting. He smiled and waved back, looking her up-and-down in his turn.
Ivy scowled and thrust Pepper at Hannah as if the cat had something contagious. ‘Here, take him.’
Perhaps Ivy was worried she might steal her fab new man, Hannah thought, and had to bite her lip so she wouldn’t giggle.
Ivy’s gaze narrowed on her face, perhaps guessing at her irreverent thoughts. ‘You really must keep him indoors, Hannah. He can’t continue coming into my house like this. What if I’d had my turkey out?’
‘Sorry?’
‘I cooked a turkey, since we missed the big day, and left it to cool on the kitchen table after we’d eaten. Luckily, I’d just covered the bird in silver foil when I spotted your cat prowling about the kitchen.’ Ivy wagged a finger at Pepper. ‘Bad pussy, sneaking in after a nibble of breast. Don’t think I don’t know what you want.’
Hannah almost choked. ‘Why not seal up the old cat flap? That would stop Pepper getting in for sure.’
‘I can do that for you,’ Colin offered helpfully.
‘You’ll do no such thing. You’re a guest in my house, not a handy-man.’ Ivy bundled her fancy man back into the kitchen, and began to close the door, dismissing Hannah with a brisk, ‘Well, have a good evening.’
‘Wait, please!’ She saw Ivy’s look of surprise as the old lady opened the door again, and added hurriedly, ‘H-How is Daniel? I mean, did he get back to London okay?’
‘Daniel?’ Ivy looked surprised, then her brow cleared. ‘Oh yes, he said you’d been over to the house once or twice.’
Once or twice?
‘I believe Daniel is perfectly well,’ Ivy continued, and her smile filled with pride as she said loudly, raising her voice as though to ensure that Colin heard her too, ‘He’s a very busy man, you know. Quite famous, in fact. All those films he makes …’
Hannah said nothing.
‘Well,’ Ivy said awkwardly, clearly wanting to shut the door again, ‘thank you for keeping my great-nephew company over Christmas. I’d better go back in now, or we’ll be losing the heat.’
‘Of course.’
The door closed and Hannah stood staring at it in silence for a few, dismal seconds. Then she turned and headed for home through the snow, clutching Pepper and grumbling at him. ‘You’re always causing trouble, trespassing in other people’s houses. Now I’ll never get Ivy to tell me anything about Daniel.’
Though it sounded like Daniel had not told Ivy about them at all.
Not properly, anyway.
He said you’d been over to the house once or twice.
Like she’d gone over there to borrow a cup of sugar, or help mend a dripping tap. Not as anyone special. Not as his lover.
Already she felt like the invisible woman, as though he had erased her from his life. That was what people did after a break-up. Now all that remained was for her to do the same. To wipe Daniel Elliott’s wonderful kisses out of her head and heart, and move on into a promising future without him.
If only it were that simple …
Back home, she put Pepper down inside the cottage kitchen, and stood looking at him, hands on her hips. ‘I know what’s wrong. You’re missing him as well, aren’t you, Pepper? That’s why you keep haunting Ivy’s house. Well, you’ll have to get used to it, she told him roughly, though really she was talking to herself, ‘because he’s left us and he isn’t coming back.’
On the kitchen table, her phone chimed, indicating that a text had arrived.
She wandered across to have a quick look. Then stared down at the screen, her breath caught in her throat.
It was from Daniel.
Missing you. Dan x
She hesitated painfully, then keyed in a short reply and sent it before she could chicken out.
Missing you too. Hx
So he had messaged her at last. That was unexpected.
Was he going to ring her now?
Her heart beating hard, she kicked off her snow-covered wellies, and curled up on the sofa with Pepper and the phone both cradled on her lap. She waited there all evening, not even daring to turn the television on in case she missed his call. Like the lovesick idiot that she was.
But there was no further message from Daniel. Nor any phone call. No promise to come back north. No declaration of love. Nothing.
Only more silence.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
New Year was looming, yet somehow the season’s goodwill and cheer had deserted Hannah. She’d had a few invitations but had turned them all down. She didn’t feel like going out either to a party or a club on New Year’s Eve, and she certainly didn’t want to face any further probing questions from her colleagues. As it was, they kept asking at work where Daniel was, whether he was coming back or not, and when Hannah was going to see him again.
Never, she wanted to yell at them.
But that wouldn’t exactly be fair. It wasn’t their fault she’d been jilted. Though it wasn’t her fault either, she told herself sternly. It seemed some men were takers, not givers, and that was the end of the story. But late at night, lying cold and unloved in the darkness, it was hard not to wonder what she had done to drive him away, even if she pretended the next morning not to have entertained such unworthy thoughts.
She had hoped to be able to push Daniel out of her head by filling her hours with work instead. That had always been how she forgot break-ups in the past, ploughing her angst and resentment into a few hours of physical labour at the Lucky Parrot Garden Centre.
But to her dismay, work at the garden centre had become almost boring, all that shrub-and-gnome shifting replaced with ever-increasing amounts of paperwork that sucked the pleasure out of her previously enjoyable job. The weather was chill and snowy, and after a week of
unrelenting snowfall, she was fed up with having to massage frozen toes in front of the fire every night. The wild Yorkshire moors were beautiful, all decked out in white. But there were only so many snow angels one could make before the weather simply became miserable and cold.
The only thing that was keeping her sane these days was the sheer pleasure of gossiping during her breaks. Katy had met someone, Belle claimed, though she was being very close-mouthed about her mystery man. Not to mention blushing whenever she got a text, which had Sam teasing her mercilessly. Though he could talk. That lad had his eye on someone outside work, Hannah was sure of it. He had started sucking on mints just before the end of his shift, and then racing off in his car like he’d heard his house was on fire.
In fact, it seemed like everyone had a promising love life these days.
Except her, of course.
At nine o’clock on New Year’s Eve, Hannah was in her new pink pyjamas (a Christmas present from her gran) and her thick Christmas socks (a gift from Camilla, who appeared to have given the same jolly Santa socks as gifts to everyone on the garden centre staff, even her dad), sitting in front of a cheering fire in her living room.
The cottage was very cosy tonight, she thought.
And very, very lonely.
Pepper was asleep next to her on the sofa and Hannah had set out an array of festive snacks on the coffee table, along with a bottle of Prosecco, and a collection of copper coins she’d been saving in a bowl. A second bottle was chilling in the fridge, and she fully intended to get to it in due course. The fire was burning away merrily, and her phone was streaming songs, not one of which was seasonal, via her Bluetooth speaker. Music and the soft crackle of the fire filled the little room, temporarily drowning out her misery. The Christmas lights were flashing cheerily enough, the baubles glittering in the firelight, but the room itself looked in need of some loving care. For a start, there were two dirty mugs on the floor from the night before – one had held hot chocolate; the other, a coffee swimming with Baileys – which she had still not bothered to clear away. But why should she?
Hannah gave a mental shrug, studying the messy room without much interest. It wasn’t like anyone would be coming round tonight to chide her for slovenly housekeeping. Or tomorrow, come to that. And she wouldn’t be back at work for several days.
Outside, large fluffy-edged snowflakes had been drifting down out of a slate-grey sky all day. But Hannah had grown tired of snow and drawn the curtains tight as soon as night began to fall across the white, frozen landscape. What had seemed so magical when Daniel was there to keep her warm was simply cold and intimidating now she was alone in the cottage.
‘What do you think, Pepper? Can I get this coin into that dirty cup over there?’ Hannah eyed the distance between her and the mug. ‘What do you say? Two glugs for each miss?’ Pepper ignored her. ‘Good, I agree.’
Hannah carefully aimed and then threw the two-pence coin.
It hit the floor a little to one side of the mug and rolled away. ‘Cheers, cat.’ She raised her glass and took two generous mouthfuls.
‘Let’s try that again, shall we?’
Next time, she hit the mug.
‘Wooah, not bad.’ She picked up another two-pence coin and weighed it in her hand. ‘Bet I can’t manage that a second time.’
But it turned out she was surprisingly good at aiming, after her initial miss. She was only halfway down her glass of wine, and had managed to get the coin into the mug five times in a row, when someone knocked loudly on her door.
Hannah’s heart leapt with the wild, irrational hope that it was Daniel. She was off the sofa and dragging the door open in the time it took a sleepy Pepper to open his eyes.
But it was only Ivy standing there, the old lady framed against a velvety-black sky, snowflakes whirling about her.
‘Oh, it’s you.’ Hannah couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice, but Ivy didn’t seem to have picked up on it, thankfully. She managed a smile. ‘Happy New Year!’
‘Oh yes,’ Ivy said, distractedly, ‘H-Happy New Year to you too.’
‘You don’t look well. Is everything okay?’
‘I … ’ Ivy looked upset, wringing her hands.
‘Come in out of the cold.’ Hannah stood back to let her in, then closed the door behind her before the cottage grew chilly again. ‘Please, sit down. And tell me what the problem is. I might be able to help.’
Ivy seated herself absent-mindedly on the sofa, nearly squashing the cat, who glared at her and leapt onto the floor, his tail whisking furiously.
‘Well, dear, it’s like this,’ she began, her voice suddenly frail. ‘Colin’s gone.’
‘Colin?’
Ivy was looking vaguely about the room. ‘My new friend.’ Her gaze lighted on the two dirty mugs on the carpet, and her brows rose. But although she clucked her tongue softly, she did not mention the mess. ‘He got tired of playing with the stair lift. And then his mother called, all in a flap. He’s gone home to help her with something or other, and I don’t think he’ll be back. So I’m on my own again.’
‘I’m so sorry, Ivy. On New Year’s Eve too,’ she said, and tried not to inject any irony into her voice, having been jilted herself on Boxing Day. ‘What a mean thing to do.’
‘Oh, I don’t care about him going. He was beginning to get on my nerves anyway,’ Ivy said, pragmatic as ever. She shook her head. ‘No, the only problem is, since he’s not here, I can’t ask him to help Daniel.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Not that Colin would have been much use to him anyway.’ The old lady looked at the snacks laid out in dishes on the coffee table, and smacked her lips appreciatively. ‘This looks like a nice spread. Expecting company?’
‘No,’ she said flatly. ‘They’re all for me.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘And so’s the wine.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘And please don’t warn me about the dangers of drinking alone, because I don’t give a stuff.’
‘Quite right too.’
Hannah, who had opened her mouth to say more, shut it again.
‘In that case, may I have some peanuts?’ Ivy asked, already helping herself to a large handful before waiting for permission. ‘Mmm, I do love these jumbo salted ones. Though they play merry hell with my kidneys.’ She hesitated. ‘Oh, you’ve got Twiglets too.’
‘Help yourself, please. There are crisps as well, and ’ Hannah tried to keep her patience as Ivy hovered thoughtfully over the snack bowls. ‘Sorry, I think I must have missed something. Why does Daniel need help?’’
‘Didn’t I say?’ Ivy said blankly, rummaging about in the assorted nuts for another cashew. ‘He’s on his way down from London to visit me. Nearly here, too. Just up the road from us, near Maddock’s Corner. Only he’s driven into a ditch … Or was it a snow drift? I’m not clear about that.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, he’s stranded and needs to be rescued.’
‘Oh my god.’
‘I tried Mr Smirthwaite on the phone. Because of his tractor, you know. But his wife says he’s in the bath, and can’t come out for at least half an hour. So I thought I’d come and sit with you while I wait.’ She finally found a cashew and popped it in her mouth, looking up at Hannah. Then she blinked and exclaimed, somewhat indistinctly, ‘What’s up now? You’re not going out in the snow, are you? Not dressed like that, surely?’
As soon as Ivy told her about the accident, Hannah had jumped up and was already pulling her coat on over her pink pyjamas, her head reeling from images of Daniel, all bloodied after crashing into a ditch, slowly freezing to death in the snow.
‘I’ll go and get him in my car, Ivy,’ she said, ‘don’t worry.’
‘You?’
‘I know I don’t run the car that often. But it’s perfectly safe, and it’ll only take me ten minutes to reach Maddock’s Corner.’
‘But … ’ Ivy eyed her glass dubiously. ‘Haven’t you been drinking, dear?’
‘That’s all
I’ve had.’ Hannah grabbed a woolly hat and scarf to guard against the worst of the cold. ‘Only half a glass. So I’m not over the limit.’
‘In that case … ’ Ivy stood up and wandered off for another glass. ‘May I have a taste of your Prosecco while you’re gone?’
‘Sure,’ Hannah shouted from the kitchen, where she was pulling on wellies over her Christmas socks. ‘Make yourself at home. I’ll be back with Daniel as soon as I can.’
The snow was still coming down outside, showing zero signs of abating, and Hannah thought that they might all be snowed in by tomorrow morning if it didn’t let up.
Worried sick about Daniel, maybe lying face-down in a ditch at that very moment, she trudged round the back of the cottage to where her hatchback was parked up. To her relief, it started first time. She gave the dashboard a pat of gratitude, and then congratulated herself for getting the rather elderly car serviced a few weeks back, and winter tyres put on.
Driving through the snow was hellish, of course. She was forced to go very slowly because visibility was so poor, and the car kept sliding all over the place. Though knowing the roads as well as she did meant that she managed to avoid veering into a ditch herself. She crawled along, sick with apprehension about Daniel, and aware that she had stupidly left her mobile behind, on the coffee table in front of Ivy.
Much good it would do her sat there, she thought grimly, and clutched the wheel between gloved hands.
At last, she reached the notorious bend that was Maddock’s Corner.
Powerful twin beams pierced the darkness ahead, making her fear the worst – that Daniel was badly hurt, and the police or an ambulance had been called. She rounded the bend, her eyes wide with anxiety, and saw a black car plunged bonnet-first in a ditch, with snow falling heavily all around it, swirling white flakes caught in the bright headlights of a tractor.
It seemed Mr Smirthwaite had got out of his bath in record time.
Braking rather too hurriedly, she skidded to a halt just past the bend, and could have cried with relief when a tall, dark figure in a long coat emerged from behind the tractor, staring at her car.
