by Joanna Neil
She pushed away her soup bowl and started to clear the table. Keeping busy was probably the best thing she could do right now. She made a start on various chores around the house, seeing to the laundry and collecting a few clothes and necessities to take into hospital for her mother. When she had done all she could in the house, she went outside to water the crops, and after that she made a start on the animal feeds.
True to form, as with everything that had happened so far today, she discovered from the outset things weren’t going quite to plan. As she approached the hen house there was a sudden honking sound, an awful shrieking that made her cover her ears and look around to see what on earth was going on.
A trio of buff-coloured geese came rushing towards her, flapping their wings and cackling loudly. The male bird—she assumed he was male, from his aggressive manner—hissed at her and made angry, threatening gestures with his beak, while the other two kept up a noisy squawking.
‘Go away! Shoo!’ Her counter-attack made them stop for a second or two, but then the threats started all over again and she looked around in vain for a stick of some sort that she could wave at them. The way things were going, they weren’t going to let her anywhere near the hen house.
‘Get back! Shoo!’ She tried again, frantically trying to keep them at bay for the next few minutes.
‘Are you having trouble?’ To her relief, she saw Brodie striding rapidly down the path towards her. Perhaps he would know how to stop the birds from attacking. ‘I heard the racket they were making, so I came to see what’s happening.’
‘I don’t think they want me around,’ she said, concentrating her efforts on warding off the gander. ‘In fact, I know they don’t.’
‘They’re protecting their territory. Flap your arms at them and hiss back... You need to show them who’s boss.’
She did as he suggested, waving her arms about and making a lot of noise. Brodie joined in, and to her amazement the geese began to back off. The gander—the male bird—was the last to give way, but eventually he too, saw that she meant business.
‘Well done!’ Brodie said approvingly when the birds had retreated. ‘They’re not usually an aggressive breed, but the males can be bullies sometimes, and you have to show them you’re bigger and more fierce than they are. I’d say you’ve won that one!’
‘Well, let’s hope I don’t have to go through that palaver every time I want to feed the hens. At least I’ll be prepared next time.’ She was breathing fast after her exertions and she was sure her cheeks must have a pink glow to them. ‘I’d no idea Mum had bought some new birds.’
‘She liked the idea of having goose eggs and thought the geese might sound a warning if any foxes came sniffing around.’
‘Ah. I guess they’re doing what she wanted, then. They’re guarding the place.’
Perhaps he saw that she’d had enough of trouble for one day because he came up close to her and gently laid an arm around her shoulders. ‘It hasn’t been the best homecoming for you, has it? How about you finish up here and then come over to my place for a cold drink?’
‘I...I don’t know...’ She was suddenly flustered, very conscious of his long body next to hers, yet at the same time strangely grateful for the warm comfort of his embrace.
He’d changed into casual chinos and a short-sleeved cotton shirt that revealed his strong biceps. The shirt was undone at the neck, giving a glimpse of his tanned throat.
‘I...um...there’s a lot to do; I still have to find the quail and clip his claws.’ She pushed back the curls that clung damply to her forehead and cheek. ‘I’ve never done it before, so it could take me a while to sort things out—once I manage to catch him, that is.’
‘I can do that for you. He’s in with the hens; your mother pointed him out to me a few days ago. She said wherever he came from, he hadn’t been able to run around and scratch to keep his claws down, so that’s why they need doing. It’s not a problem. I know where she keeps the clippers.’
‘Oh.’ That would be a terrific help, one less problem for her to manage. ‘Okay, then, if you’re sure you don’t mind?’ Her excuses obviously weren’t going to pass muster with him. Anyway, a cold drink was really, really tempting right now when she was all hot and bothered. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand.
‘Good, that’s settled, then. I do a great watermelon and apple blend. I remember you used to like that.’ He released her, but her skin flushed with heat all over again at the memory of hot summer days spent with her friends in flower-filled meadows.
Brodie and his brother had often come with them as they’d wandered aimlessly through the fields and by the river. They would stop to share sandwiches and drink juice or pop they’d brought with them. They had been fun days, days of laughter and innocent, stolen kisses in the time before Brodie had unexpectedly, disastrously, gone off the rails.
Together, they finished off the feeding then she watched as Brodie deftly caught the quail and carefully set about trimming the tip of each claw. ‘These little birds get stressed easily,’ he said, ‘So it’s best to get them used to being handled.’ He placed him back down in the pen and the bird scampered off as fast as he could. ‘He’ll be all right now. I doubt he’ll need clipping again now that he has a solid floor to run on and plenty of scratching litter.’
‘Thanks for that.’ Finished with all the chores for now, Caitlin locked up the pen and together they walked over to his house. It was a lovely big old property with a large, white-painted Georgian extension built on to an original Tudor dwelling. The walls were covered with rambling roses and at the side of the house there was an overgrown tree badly in need of pruning. The front lawn was dotted about with daisies and unkempt shrubs sprawled over the borders.
‘I need to get the garden in order,’ Brodie said ruefully, ‘But I’ve had other priorities up to now, at work and back here.’ He led the way along the path to the back of the house. ‘In estate agent jargon, “in need of some renovation”; that can be interpreted in lots of ways,’ he said with a wry smile.
She nodded, sharing the joke. ‘I’ve always loved this house,’ she said, glancing around. ‘I expect it will need a lot of care and attention to restore it to its former glory, but it’ll be worth it in the end.’
He nodded. ‘I think so too. That’s why I was so pleased when it came on to the market. I took to this house from a very early age. When I was about ten my friends and I used to climb over the wall and steal the apples from the orchard, until one day old Mr Martin caught us. We thought we were in big trouble, but he surprised us. He invited us into the house, gave us cookies and milk, then sent us on our way with a basket full of fruit.’
‘He was a kind old man.’
‘Yes, he was.’ He showed her into the kitchen and she looked around in wonder.
‘You’ve obviously been busy in here,’ she said admiringly. ‘This is all new, isn’t it?’
‘It is. It’s the first room I worked on. I looked into different types of kitchen design and decided I wanted one where there was room for a table and chairs along with an island bar. This way, I can sit down for a meal and look out of the window at the garden; or if I’m feeling in a more casual mood, I can sit at the bar over there and have a cold drink or a coffee or whatever.’
She smiled. ‘I like it, especially the cream colour scheme. You have really good taste.’ She studied him afresh, surprised by the understated elegance of the room.
‘Good taste for a rebel whose idea of fun was to spray graffiti on any accessible wall?’ He laughed. ‘I’ll never forget that day you let rip at me for painting fire-breathing dragons on your mother’s old barn. You handed me a brush and a pot of fence paint and told me to clean it up.’
‘And you told me to forget it because the barn was old and rotting and ready to fall down—but later that night you came back and painted the lot.’
His brow lifted in mock incredulity. ‘You mean, you’ve known all along who did it?’
She laug
hed. ‘I never thought you were as bad as people said. I knew there was a good person struggling to get out from under all that bravado.’ She’d understood him, up to a point, knowing how much it hurt to lose a parent. She’d turned her feelings inwards but back then Brodie had become more confrontational and forcefully masculine.
Smiling, he filled a blender with slices of apple and watermelon and added ice cubes to the mix. He topped that with the juice of a lime and then whizzed it up. ‘That looks ready to me,’ he said, eyeing the resulting juice with satisfaction. ‘We’ll take this outside, shall we?’
She nodded and followed him through the open French doors on to a paved terrace where they sat at a white wrought-iron table looking out on to a sweeping lawn. This was part of the garden that he had tended to, with established borders crowded out with flowering perennials, gorgeous pink blossoms of thrift with spiky green leaves alongside purple astilbe and bearded yellow iris.
He poured juice into a tall glass and handed it to her. ‘I hope you still like this as much as you used to.’
She put the glass to her lips and sipped. ‘Mmm... It’s delicious,’ she said. ‘Thanks. I needed that.’
‘So, what’s been happening with you over the last few years?’ he asked, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his long legs. He glanced at her ringless left hand. ‘I heard you were dating my friend, Matt, until recently.’
She pulled a face, bracing herself to answer him. ‘Yes, that’s right. We were going to get engaged,’ she said ruefully. ‘But then things went wrong. Disastrously wrong.’
It was still difficult for her to talk about it but at the hospital where she had worked with Matt everyone knew the situation and it had been virtually impossible to escape from the questions and the sympathy.
He frowned. ‘I’m sorry. Do you want to tell me what happened? Do you mind talking about it?’
‘It still upsets me, yes.’ She hesitated. ‘He met someone else.’
Brodie studied her, his eyes darkening. ‘I knew about that but I never understood how it came about. Matt and I haven’t seen each other for quite a while. Was he looking to get out of the relationship?’
‘No...at least, I don’t think so.’ She thought about it and then took a deep breath. ‘It started about a year and a half ago. My cousin Jenny’s car broke down one day and when Matt heard about it he offered to go and pick her up. Apparently she was in a bit of a state—she’d missed an appointment, everything had gone wrong and she was feeling pretty desperate. So he took her along to the nearest pub for a meal and a drink to give her time to calm down. Things just went on from there—he was hooked from that meeting. It was what you might call a whirlwind courtship.’ She frowned. ‘You knew Matt from school, didn’t you? I suppose you know they’re getting married soon?’
He sent her a cautious glance. ‘I received an invitation to their wedding this morning.’
‘Yes, so did I.’
‘It was short notice, I thought. They must be in a hurry.’ A line creased his brow. ‘How do you feel about it?’
She exhaled slowly. ‘Pretty awful, all things considered.’ She picked up her glass and took a long swallow. The cold liquid was soothing, and she pressed the glass to her forehead to cool her down even more. ‘They wanted to get married before the summer ends and the vicar managed to fit them in.’
He was thoughtful for a while. ‘How are you going to cope with the wedding? Will you go to it? Yours has always been a tight-knit family, hasn’t it? So I can see there might be problems if you stay away.’
‘I don’t know what to do. I feel hurt and upset. The thought of it makes me angry but, like you say, my family has always been close and if I don’t go there could be all sorts of repercussions. I keep thinking maybe I’ll develop a convenient stomach bug or something on the day.’
He winced. ‘I doubt you’ll get away with that.’
‘No.’ She pulled a face. ‘You’re probably right.’ She sighed. ‘My mother’s already upset because she might not be well enough to attend. Jenny’s her sister’s child. My mother and my aunt have always been very close. I suppose it all depends how well her recovery goes.’
‘Let’s hope it all goes smoothly for her.’ On a cautious note, he asked quietly, ‘Did Jenny know about you and Matt—about you being a couple? If she did, she must have known it would cause problems with your family.’
She shook her head. ‘Not until it was too late. I was upset, devastated, but I tried to keep the peace for my aunt’s sake and my mother’s. But it’s been hard, keeping up a pretence. I’m not sure how I’ll get through the wedding without breaking down.’
She didn’t know why she was opening up to him this way. It was embarrassing; she’d been humiliated and her pride had taken a huge blow. But Brodie was a good listener. He seemed to understand how she felt and she was pretty sure he wouldn’t judge her and find her wanting.
‘We could go to the wedding together,’ he said unexpectedly. ‘I’d be there to support you and we can put up a united front—show them that you don’t care, that you’re doing fine without him.’
‘Do you think so? That would be good if it worked,’ she said, giving him a faint smile. ‘I’m not sure I could pull it off, though.’
‘Sure you can. I’ll help you. We’ll make a good team, you and I, you’ll see.’
She might have answered him, but just then a noise disturbed the quiet of the afternoon—the sound of footsteps on pavement—and a moment later Brodie’s brother appeared around the back of the house.
‘Hey there. I’ve been ringing the front doorbell but no one answered. I felt sure you were around somewhere because I saw the car.’ He glanced at Caitlin and did a double take. ‘Hi, babe,’ he said, his voice brimming over with enthusiasm. ‘It’s good to see you, Caitlin. It’s been a long time.’
‘Yes, it has.’ She was almost glad of the interruption. Anything and anyone that could take her mind off Matt was welcome. ‘Hi, David. How are you doing?’
He was a good-looking young man in his late twenties with dark hair, brown eyes and a lively expression. ‘I didn’t know you were living in our part of the world,’ she said. ‘I thought you were settled in London.’
‘I am, mostly, but we’re doing some filming down here for the latest episode in the TV drama series Murder Mysteries—I’ll bet you’ve seen it, haven’t you? It’s been on the screens for over a year. It’s turned out to be really popular, much more so than we expected.’
She nodded. ‘I’ve seen it. It’s good—you’ve certainly found yourselves a winner there.’ She studied him briefly. He too had come a long way in just a few years. ‘I see your name on the credits quite often. So, am I right in thinking you write the screenplay?’
‘I do.’
Brodie pulled out a chair for him and David sat down. ‘Do you want a drink?’ Brodie asked, lifting the jug of juice.
‘Sure.’ He glanced at the pink liquid in the jug. ‘It looks great, but is there a drop of something stronger you could put in it?’
‘I can get you something from the bar if that’s what you want.’ Brodie sent him a thoughtful glance. ‘Do I take it you’re not planning on driving anywhere after this, then?’
David shook his head and sent Brodie a hopeful look. ‘I was wondering if I might be able to stay here for the duration—while the research and the filming is going on.’ He frowned, thinking it through. ‘It could take several weeks, depending on what properties we need to rent, though the actual filming won’t take more than a few days. Would that be all right?’
‘Of course.’ Brodie sent him a fleeting glance. ‘You don’t want to stay with Dad, then, at the Mill House?’
David sobered. ‘Well, you know how it is. I love the old fellow but he’s not much fun to be around lately. At least, not since...’ He trailed off, his voice dwindling away as he thought better of what he was going to say.
‘Not since he heard I was back in the village...is that what you were goin
g to say?’ Brodie made a wry smile. ‘It’s okay. I know how it is.’ He pressed his lips together in a flat line. ‘Things are still not right with us after all this time...’ He shrugged. ‘What can I do?’ It was a rhetorical question. Caitlin sensed he didn’t expect an answer. ‘I’ve tried making my peace with him over the years, and again these last few weeks, but he doesn’t seem to want to know. That’s okay; I accept things as they are.’
Caitlin watched the emotions play across his face. Things had gone badly wrong between Brodie and his father and no one had ever known why. It had been the start of Brodie’s resentment and rebellion; nothing had gone right for him for a long time after that.
‘I’m sorry, Brodie,’ David said. ‘I’m sure he’ll come around eventually.’
‘Do you really think that’s going to happen after all these years?’ Brodie gave a short laugh. ‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’
‘Maybe he’ll get a knock on the head and develop amnesia. You’ll be able to start over.’ David grinned and Brodie’s mouth curved at the absurdity of the situation.
‘I guess we can see how you came to be a screenwriter, brother. You have a vivid imagination.’
David chuckled and turned his attention back to Caitlin. ‘I’m sorry about that. You don’t want to have to listen to our family goings-on. I can’t tell you how great it is to see you again.’ He looked her over appreciatively. ‘You’re absolutely gorgeous, even more so than I remember, and you were stunning back then. Are you going to be staying around here for long? That’s your mother’s place next door, isn’t it?’
She nodded. ‘I’m coming back to the village permanently. I’ll be living with Mum until I can find a place of my own...for a few months, at least. That should give me time to find somewhere suitable.’
‘Wow, that’s fantastic.’ He moved his chair closer to hers. ‘We could perhaps get together, you and I—go for a meal, have a drink, drive out to a nightclub in town. It’ll be fun; what do you say—?’
