Coming Home to Cuckoo Cottage

by Heidi Swain

  I stood my ground, terrified by the expression in Will’s eyes but knowing that if I backed down, Matt was going to be in real trouble.

  ‘I think you’d better go,’ I said, as calmly as I could manage.

  ‘Not until I’ve heard it from your own lips, Lottie Foster.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Will,’ I said truthfully, ‘but I think you’d better go before I have to call the police.’

  ‘Call them,’ he laughed, ‘and then we’ll find out once and for all . . . ’

  Before he had a chance to say another word, Matt leapt up, pushed me to one side and began pummelling into Will, fists flying and the air blue with language I never wish to subject my ears to again. There was only one thing for it, and without stopping to think whether I was going to get hurt, I leapt between the two men, felt a blow to the side of my head and fell to the dusty ground.

  Chapter 31

  I had absolutely no recollection of what happened after that. My head hit the ground and the lights literally went out for what felt like days, but in reality, I later discovered, it was nowhere near as long.

  ‘Lottie?’

  Gingerly I turned my face towards the sound, wishing that the persistent thumping in my head would go away, and slowly opened my eyes.

  ‘Lottie.’

  It was Mags.

  ‘Where am I?’ I croaked, my voice was barely audible and my throat was tight and dry. I felt as if I hadn’t had a drink in weeks.

  ‘You’re in hospital,’ she said, ‘you’ve had a bump on the head, but you’re going to be OK.’

  ‘Where’s Minnie?’ I croaked again, trying to lift my head but finding I couldn’t. It felt as if someone had strapped a ten-tonne weight to the back of it. ‘Where’s my girl?’

  ‘She’s at my house with Liam and Ed,’ said Mags softly, ‘and she’s fine, as is the cottage and everything else. You just have a nice rest and I’ll be back in a bit.’

  The next time I opened my eyes it was dark, but I could make out the silhouette of a man sitting next to the bed. I wasn’t sure if it was Will or Matt or a figment of my imagination.

  ‘So how are we feeling?’ asked a cheery nurse at what I guessed was early the next morning.

  ‘Sore,’ I said truthfully.

  My whole body ached, I could feel my face was grazed and there was a lump easily the size of a ping-pong ball above my left eye. I dreaded to think what the bruising was like.

  ‘Well, if you will go around trying to break up bar-room brawls.’

  ‘It wasn’t a bar-room,’ I said, suddenly remembering and wondering which of my two knights in shining armour had been the one to strike the blow.

  ‘Anyone at home?’

  ‘I asked you to wait,’ tutted the nurse, as she fussed with my blanket and scowled at the policeman whose ruddy face appeared around the side of the curtain.

  ‘Any chance of having a quick chat, Miss Foster?’

  ‘You can have a chat when this young lady has had some breakfast,’ insisted the nurse.

  ‘How about, while she has some breakfast?’

  As I slowly worked my way through a beaker of tepid sweet tea and a slice of rubbery, barely buttered toast, PC Williams took me through the finer details of what he had discovered had played out in the yard of Cuckoo Cottage the morning before.

  It soon became obvious that he knew little more than I did. Matt and Will were fighting, Matt was coming off worse and I had stepped in before things took an even nastier turn and ended up getting thumped in the process. Neither man could be sure who had delivered the blow which sent me reeling, but as Matt was the worse for wear, the general consensus was that it was probably Will. Did I want to wait and see if I could remember more in a day or two and press charges? No, I certainly did not. It was simply a misunderstanding that wasn’t worth the court’s time and that was the end of that, or so I thought.

  ‘The nurse says they’ll be discharging you later this afternoon,’ said Matt, who turned up around lunchtime sporting at least half a dozen stitches, a black eye and was walking with the support of a stick.

  ‘Look at the state of you!’ I gasped.

  ‘You’re a fine one to talk,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Have you looked in a mirror?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘not yet.’

  Considering there was a one in two chance that he was the one who had inflicted my injury, I was rather taken aback by his off-the-cuff remark and laid-back attitude and wondered if he knew for certain that it had been Will who had knocked me out.

  ‘Are you all right?’ I asked, as he carefully lowered himself into the chair next to my bed.

  ‘I’ve been better,’ he said with a shrug, ‘but I’ll mend. To be honest, what’s going on in my head is causing me more concern than this,’ he added, pointing to his face.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I frowned, even though it was agony to do so.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me you thought I was stringing you along, Lottie?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Why didn’t you ever say you weren’t sure about the work I was doing?’ he said accusingly. ‘If you’d asked me a few more questions I would have explained what I was doing in more detail and exactly why I was doing it. There was no need to ask that bloody thug to take me to task about it all when a simple conversation between us two would have sorted it.’

  I didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Have I really been that overbearing?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ I squeaked, feeling furious with Will. ‘Is that what you and Will were arguing about?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘But I never asked him to say anything,’ I insisted. ‘I didn’t know he was going to say a word and I certainly never put him up to take you to task, as you put it.’

  Who the hell did Will think he was? I might have been having my doubts and concerns about Matt, but I never would have dreamt of sharing them with Will if I thought for even one second that he would take matters into his own hands and use my worries as an excuse to have a brawl with my builder.

  ‘I just feel such an idiot,’ Matt went on, shaking his head and looking thoroughly fed up. ‘I’ve only ever tried to be your friend, Lottie,’ he said, making my guilt escalate even higher than my temperature had been. ‘I’ve only ever tried to help you.’

  ‘I know that,’ I said, ‘and I should have talked to you sooner. I was going to talk to you, had I been given the chance. I’ve just had so much on my mind.’

  ‘Well, I’m almost done at the cottage for now,’ he announced, ‘and I don’t want a penny for anything I’ve done. I have a reputation to uphold around here and I don’t want anyone saying that I took advantage of the situation.’

  ‘I would never do that,’ I said firmly.

  ‘I know you wouldn’t,’ said Matt, ‘but what about Will? You saw for yourself yesterday just what an explosive temper he’s got, didn’t you? I wouldn’t put it past him to tell everyone that you’ve confided in him and that I’ve been taking you for a ride. You’ve discovered for yourself first hand just how quick folk are to jump to conclusions.’

  ‘I’m sure Will wouldn’t do that,’ I said, ‘temper or no temper.’

  ‘Oh really?’

  ‘Yes, really.’

  ‘You do know why he left the army, don’t you, Lottie?’ Matt asked, suddenly changing track.

  ‘No,’ I said, and given his change of tone I probably didn’t want to know either.

  Having seen the dangerous expression in Will’s eyes as he towered over me the day before, I knew that I would never want to pit myself against his temper again. He had been a beast of a man, and not in an attractive, protective way, but in an unhinged, explosive way. He couldn’t have been further from the gentle, caring soul who had patched me up after my silly trip out during the thunderstorm if he tried. The transformation was as shocking as the fact that he had gone behind my back and talked to Matt when I hadn’t asked him to.

  �
��It was his temper,’ said Matt. ‘His stupid temper got the better of him, yet again.’

  ‘I’m not sure I want to hear this, Matt,’ I said, wondering how he could possibly know when no one else did. ‘This is really none of my business.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ he said. ‘He’s your friend, isn’t he? I think you need to know what you’re letting yourself in for if you decide to keep in contact with him.’

  ‘So how come you know why he left when no one else does?’ I asked, unable to stop the question tumbling out.

  ‘That’s hardly relevant right now,’ he said darkly, ‘and I’m sure Will would rather I didn’t know at all. After what happened back at the cottage I’m even more convinced he’d far rather no one knew his shameful secret.’

  I closed my eyes and listened as Matt explained, in far more detail than I would have liked, how Will had served in Afghanistan and how, having worked closely with the bomb disposal unit and lost a colleague as well as their dogs in a roadside bomb, he’d set out to deliberately gun down an entire civilian family before being bundled back to barracks and then to England, where he was hastily discharged and stripped of every medal he’d ever earned. According to Matt, he’d been lucky to escape a lengthy prison sentence.

  I knew Will had been reluctant to take on Minnie after Gwen had died, and I could appreciate that if he had lost a loyal companion in a war zone then that was certainly an understandable reason as to why he wouldn’t take on another dog, but as for the rest, surely that couldn’t be right? I knew that these things happened and that soldiers the world over, working under extreme pressure, occasionally made mistakes, but not gargantuan ones like this surely, and certainly not Will.

  ‘I know you find it hard to believe,’ said Matt. ‘I did when I first heard it for myself, but think about it, Lottie. What do you really know about him? You’ve only known him five minutes. How can you possibly think you know someone who you’ve spent so little time with? Surely what you and I were subjected to yesterday is enough to prove that he’s dangerous and not to be trusted?’

  ‘But I’ve only known you a few weeks as well,’ I pointed out.

  ‘But I haven’t gone around picking fights and telling tales, have I?’

  He had a point. I really didn’t know what to say. I needed time to think. By tackling Matt about the work at the cottage behind my back, Will had already proved he thought nothing of betraying a confidence, so perhaps Matt was right. Perhaps I should make a point of staying out of Will’s way, for the time being at least, but how difficult was that going to be, especially given the fact that he lived just up the road?

  Chapter 32

  I needn’t have worried about how difficult it was going to be to avoid Will, because as Mags solicitously drove me home from the hospital and then tucked me up in bed, she explained he had decided to take a couple of weeks’ holiday to visit an old friend abroad. I can’t deny I was relieved that he had gone.

  ‘From what I can gather,’ she said, checking the jug of water next to my bed was icy cold, ‘he’s feeling pretty ashamed about what happened.’

  I didn’t mention anything that Matt had told me about why Will had been thrown out of the army or how terrifying he had looked during the fight. I didn’t want her to think I had picked a side, because I hadn’t. It was up to Will if he wanted folk to know about his past and it was also his decision to choose that moment to take a break.

  At least his absence would give me time to think things through without his distracting presence, and as Matt was temporarily out of action as well, I was looking forward to enjoying Cuckoo Cottage in relative peace and isolation for the first time since I had arrived. With every passing day it was looking more and more likely that I would have to sell up, so the opportunity to make some special memories of my own to take with me was most welcome.

  ‘But we don’t even know that it was Will who hit me,’ I reminded Mags. ‘It could just as easily have been Matt, and besides, whoever it was, it was an accident.’

  ‘I don’t know why you would think that would make him feel any better about what happened,’ Mags tutted.

  ‘Well, Matt seems to have resigned himself to the situation without a fuss.’

  ‘Will isn’t making a fuss,’ said Mags.

  ‘What is he doing, then?’

  Mags sighed and walked over to the window to check on Ed who was cleaning out the chicken coop and keeping an eye on Minnie for me.

  ‘He just thought you’d be pleased to see the back of him for a bit,’ she said eventually. ‘The pair of you haven’t exactly had a smooth ride since you first met and now, just when things were getting better between you, this has happened.’

  ‘But running away won’t solve anything,’ I said, ignoring the little voice that was suddenly so keen to remind me that if I moved on then that was exactly what I would be doing.

  ‘No, it won’t,’ agreed Mags, ‘but it will give you both some distance from one another and hopefully some perspective. He really likes you, Lottie,’ she added meaningfully, ‘and he doesn’t want to lose your friendship.’

  I didn’t say anything else. I didn’t think it would matter how long he disappeared, for I would never really be able to come to terms with the horrific things Matt had told me that he had done. Part of me was desperate to try and make some sense of it by talking it through with Mags, but the greater part was still slightly concussed and not up to such an important conversation.

  ‘You look tired,’ she said, turning back to the bed. ‘Shall I take Minnie home with me again for tonight and see how you feel about having her back in the morning?’

  ‘No,’ I said, closing my eyes, ‘but thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you these last few days, Mags. I really appreciate your help, and Ed’s, but I’ll be all right on my own now.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes,’ I nodded. ‘I’m just going to potter about around here for a few days.’

  ‘And do you promise to ring if you need anything?’

  ‘I do.’

  The next couple of days, in spite of the occasionally pounding head and multicoloured bruises, were the best I had had since moving to Wynbridge. I managed to reassure Mags that I was fine via frequent but brief phone calls during the evenings and the days were spent slowly pulling together the threads and putting the finishing touches on The Cherry Tree Café caravan.

  By the time I had finished I was feeling extremely proud of the results. The electrics and plumbing hadn’t needed tweaking at all and consequently this was the first complete refurbishment I had undertaken independently, apart from the online ordering Jemma had taken responsibility for, and it had turned out beautifully.

  As I stood back to admire my handiwork and silently thanked Eric and John, my former employees, for equipping me with far more skills than I initially realised I had, I couldn’t deny the twinge of sadness in my heart. Were it not for the ridiculous agricultural restrictions, this kind of project would have played a major part in my future and I would have been rather happy about that.

  The splendid isolation I was enjoying didn’t last long. As soon as Matt was well enough to drive, he arrived back on the scene, keen to finish the work he had started and, to my mind, milk the situation for all it was worth. It seemed we could barely have a conversation without him mentioning either selling my beloved vans before the summer ended and prices took a nosedive, or raking over what Will had accused him of. Truth be told, by the end of the week I was feeling more annoyed by the fact that he wouldn’t drop the subject than guilty for what I had said in passing to my neighbour which had been the cause of all the ructions.

  ‘How do you fancy a trip to the pub tonight?’ asked Mags at the end of the week. ‘I haven’t seen you since I tucked you up in bed the day you came home from hospital and I want to say thank you in advance for agreeing to have Ed for the night this weekend.’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ I began.

  ‘Don’t tell me you ar
en’t up to it, Lottie Foster,’ she said bluntly, ‘because every time I’ve driven by your place this week those barns have been open, so I know you haven’t been sitting on your backside doing nothing. You’re obviously up to something.’

  I couldn’t help but smile at her clever observation.

  ‘I’ll pick you up in half an hour,’ she said, then hung up.

  It was another warm evening in Wynbridge, but as I sat at a table in the bar of The Mermaid, discreetly trying to cover my fading bruises with my hair, I could feel a slight chill in the air. The place was pretty quiet, even for a week night, but there was an unusually unwelcome atmosphere that I hoped my arrival hadn’t caused.

  I had already spotted and heard the usual furtive mutterings and glances from the bar and looked among the customers, wondering if anyone present had been responsible for the gossip Matt had mentioned but that I hadn’t noticed, during my last visit.

  ‘So is Liam looking after Ed tonight?’ I asked Mags as she came over to the table with our drinks.

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘he’s spending the evening with George. They’re planning when would be the best time to start helping you renovate Gwen’s old vegetable patch actually.’

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I probably wouldn’t be there to enjoy next year’s harvest now.

  ‘I think they’re hoping to get it cleared this autumn, then mulch it and leave it to settle over the winter ready to dig over and plant up in the spring, or something like that.’

  ‘That sounds like the right idea,’ I said, taking a sip of Diet Coke. ‘Just the sort of thing my grandad would have suggested.’

  ‘So have you heard from Will?’ Mags asked.

  ‘Sorry?’ I frowned, thrown by the sudden change in conversation.

  ‘Has he phoned, sent a postcard?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘of course not. I haven’t been expecting him to. Has he been in touch with you, then?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, the colour rising in her cheeks as she carried on. ‘He phoned this afternoon. He’s the reason I’ve asked you out tonight, actually.’