The Phoenix Project

by Chrissie Loveday

  ‘So, you lousy people who thought it might stop me, it won’t.’

  She spoke aloud, as if someone could hear her. Once she had been to buy her toothbrush and several more things, she would begin her fight again.

  The woman in the shop was horrified.

  ‘I think it’s really terrible, what someone did to you. So what you going to do now?’

  ‘Buy another caravan and start all over again. Nobody’s going to stop me. This has made me even more determined.’

  ‘Very brave of you, dearie. That’s nine pounds eighty-five, thank you.’

  ‘Here’s ten. Goodness, until I can get new credit cards issued, I’m going to have to be careful how I spend my money.’

  She smiled as she took her change and then went back to Drew’s place. She really needed to clean her teeth.

  The firemen arrived a little while later. The morning was spent answering their questions. She hadn’t been anywhere near the site at the time so it was all pretty much a waste of effort. One thing was definite. It had been a deliberate act. The smell of petrol had proved that much.

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll find the person who did this to you.’

  The fireman was quite determined.

  The police arrived some time later and she answered all their questions too, but could provide no more clues than she had with the fire department. At last they all left.

  Rosie braced herself and began to work her way through the phone calls. She organised her new credit cards and ordered another cheque book, using Drew’s address. She also spoke to her insurance company who seemed reasonably positive. That was a great relief to her. It was fortunate she had kept the numbers in her mobile. Once it was all done, she went back to the site. She felt quite sickened by the sight that greeted her. Facing the ruins of the caravan made it all the more clear exactly what she had lost. Eventually, she went back to Drew’s place and looked at the various pieces of paper, accident reports and papers with numbers on them. The next chore that faced her was to make a start on the insurance form Drew had downloaded for her, and fire reports, hoping the company really would pay for the damage. Frowning and with her nose wrinkled as she concentrated, she felt she had done a fair job at filling them all in.

  It was, by then, almost two-thirty. She took Drew at his word about helping herself to what she wanted and made herself a sandwich. She looked out of his window as she ate and thought more about her situation. She had sufficient money in the bank but needed to be able to access it, and soon. She decided to go into the nearest town to see about changing her bank account to a local branch.

  It turned into another frustrating and pointless exercise without any documents to back her up. Really and truly, she was completely stuck for now. It made her realise the folly of leaving all her things in one place. Once she was organised again, she would always carry her cards with her. Meantime, she needed to get a new laptop and that she couldn’t do until she had new credit cards. It was going to be such an annoying time, waiting for insurance money to come through plus everything else she needed. She knew she had plenty of money but for anyone who didn’t, it must be doubly difficult. She bought a newspaper and scanned the adverts for a caravan. There was nothing there.

  Finally, she decided to go back to her building site and see if anything could be achieved there. She poked among the debris of what had been her caravan but there really was very little left apart from some twisted metal and a lot of ashes. It was quite heartbreaking. She grew angry and stamped around, cursing whoever had done all this.

  ‘You won’t beat me!’ she yelled at no one. She thought of the farm nearby and wondered if they could have seen anything. Perhaps it might be worth calling on them. She left her car parked behind the ruins of the old building and walked down the lane. It was a tired-looking place, badly in need of a paint job. The windows were cracked in places and the whole area held an air of despondency. She knocked at the door.

  ‘Yes?’ came the brusque question. The man who stood, lurking almost, behind his door looked decidedly shifty.

  ‘Good afternoon. I’m Rosie Breeden. I’ve bought the place next door. Last night my caravan was set alight and I wondered if you’d seen or heard anything?’

  ‘No. We was watching telly last night. Didn’t see nor hear anythin’. Told the same thing to all them others as asked about it. I can’t help you.’

  ‘But you must have seen or heard something,’ she said desperately.

  ‘Bad things happens there. You should go back to wherever you came from.’

  He shut the door and she turned away.

  ‘That was useful,’ she muttered as she walked back down the lane. Someone must have seen something.

  She went back to Drew’s place and looked in his little freezer for something to cook. It seemed the least she could do until she had some money again. She made spaghetti bolognaise, something everyone seemed to like and had it all ready for his return from work.

  ‘I could get used to this sort of treatment,’ he announced. ‘Just the ticket.’

  They ate in silence. She was busily considering her own problems while he was thinking about the job he’d just finished. He didn’t want to push her into anything but he was wondering whether to ask if she really wanted him to work on her restoration project. He had some work lined up but knew he could postpone that and he’d love to work on this old farmhouse. He already had some ideas and. along with those he had heard of hers, knew it would make a wonderful home for her.

  ‘So, what’s your next project?’ Rosie asked him.

  ‘I have a few smallish jobs. Then, who knows? Why do you ask?’

  ‘I was wondering if you’d really like to be involved in helping me?’

  Yes, he breathed silently.

  ‘I’d certainly be very interested,’ he said aloud. ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘Well, a total rebuild. I’d want to use some of the old stones around the place. Make it similar to what it used to be. It will have to be timber-framed basically but with some granite facing on the outside. I’ve got some pictures – well, I had some pictures – I can probably find them again. Those bastards who set fire to my caravan …’ she said again. ‘I can’t begin to tell you how frustrating this all is.’

  ‘I know, love. It must be dreadful for you. You had everything on your laptop, didn’t you?’

  ‘Every last scrap of information. I haven’t even got anything left to wear. Well, apart from this, – what I was wearing last night. I have more stuff in storage, but that’s up in Bristol. I’ve lost everything. My plans. Dealings with the council. Oh I hate them. Hate them, I tell you!’

  ‘Can’t say I blame you,’ Drew told her. ‘So, you’re going ahead anyway? Despite the fire?’

  ‘I certainly am. It will take a lot more than whoever burned my caravan to put me off. I’m going to get another one.’

  ‘Is that the most sensible thing to do? I mean to say, anyone who’s sufficiently determined to torch one can easily do a second.’

  ‘I suppose so. But why on earth should I be scared off?’

  ‘Up to you, of course. But I’d be more than happy for you to stay here with me as long as you want to. If it’s good enough for you, that is.’

  ‘It’s very kind of you. Thanks. Of course it’s good enough! But if I did get another caravan, it would make life easier for you, and anyone doing the work. Well, for you, if you decide you’ll take it on. And it will be somewhere I can work, too. I intend to be involved in the project at every stage.’

  They talked about it all well into the night. She was still excited about the whole project and making plans for her future home. The loss of the caravan was a huge blow but she was not going to let it spoil what she intended to do. Tomorrow was going to be a new beginning. Once she had her finances sorted, she would go and buy a new laptop and printer and begin to redraft her plans. It shouldn’t take her so long, and she wanted to be working within as short a time as was possible. She also n
eeded something else to wear. Maybe she should drive up to Bristol to collect some of her stuff? In the meantime, she was planning to get the stone walls demolished and sorted for the rebuild. It would do her good to get her hands dirty.

  A couple of days later, she drove up to Bristol. Embarassingly, she had to borrow from Drew to buy petrol for the journey. She visited the house that had been her parents’ property and collected some of her clothes. Fortunately, there were no occupants yet, so she was free to wander around. After a couple of hours, she felt extremely depressed. It was no longer the happy home she remembered. Instead, it was a bleak, empty place, having lost the people who had once lived there. She planned to take any unwanted clothes to a charity shop and piled them into black sacks. She may have been a bit rash in what she turfed out, but she had nowhere to put them at the moment. Besides, Rosie knew that she was not going to return there. One or two of her parents’ pieces of furniture she would put into store to keep for herself, but most of it could stay here for her tenants. She went to see the solicitor and told him all that had happened since she had left. He was most sympathetic.

  ‘So you see, until the insurance pay out and my new credit cards arrive, I’m virtually broke. I couldn’t even change my bank account without proof of some sort.’

  ‘Didn’t you have a driving licence?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Nope. It was all in the caravan. I never gave it a thought. I went out with just my purse and left everything oh so safely. I locked the door and even hid my stuff under the mattress. Stupid or what? I have ordered a replacement. It should be here in a few days.’

  ‘You weren’t to know. The thought of anyone burning the whole thing was pretty dramatic. And you say they haven’t caught anyone for it?’

  ‘Not as yet. Well, thank you for your time, Mr Blenkins. Sorry to moan all over you.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about that, my dear. I’m just very sorry it all happened to you. I’ve known you since you were a little girl.’

  She had a thought suddenly.

  ‘Do you know anything about my parents?’

  ‘Well, of course I do. I dealt with their wills and … well, of course I knew them. Very well indeed.’

  ‘I actually meant my birth parents.’

  ‘Sorry? You’ve lost me, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Never mind. Something I’ll have to deal with in the future.’

  ‘You intrigue me. Come on. Tell me about it.’

  ‘My mother left me a letter.’

  ‘Oh yes. I do remember a letter. I believe it was sent to you after you parents’ unfortunate accident. Naturally, we didn’t have any idea of its contents. You mentioned “birth parents”? Does that mean …?’

  ‘Yes, indeed. I was adopted.’

  ‘Well, all I can say is your parents, those who adopted you, did a very good job. You seem to me to be most well-balanced and I’m sure they were very proud of you.’

  ‘Thank you. But, all the same, it did come as a dreadful shock, on top of their deaths. I’m sorry to have bothered you. I only mentioned it in case they’d ever said anything to you. But it seems as much of a surprise to you as it was to me.’

  ‘Oh it is, certainly. But if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know. Otherwise, I wish you every success with your work.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you.’

  She said her goodbyes to him and his secretary and left. She felt a bit strange as she drove back to Cornwall. She felt much freer, having discarded so much of her past clutter. She now had the odd change of clothes and some shoes, and a few books that she planned to leave in the car, until she had somewhere to stow them. Once she had some money, she would go and buy more things suitable for her new lifestyle. As for the house, once it was built, she planned to buy new furniture and leave her old life where it belonged … well and truly in the past.

  It took almost a week for Rosie to receive her new credit cards and driving licence, by which time she was almost going crazy. As soon as they came, she went off to the nearby stores and bought a new laptop and printer so she could really get her plans sorted. Another caravan was soon organised too and she felt as if things were beginning to move. She also fixed up security cameras, small and discreet, so no one could see them. Anyone sneaking round her site would be recorded and, she assumed, could be identified. She had decided to stay on with Drew for a while, as he suggested. She was going to use the caravan for daily work, which she carefully took back with her each evening. Gradually, life settled into a pattern with no more unexpected events. She had sent in her planning application and now had to wait until the planners moved themselves to meet and discuss her project.

  Much to her surprise, she received a phone call one morning.

  ‘Good morning. I represent a property company and we’d be very pleased to make you an offer for the land you’re hoping to build on.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not interested,’ she replied.

  ‘We’ve seen the planning application and feel the land would be more than suitable for us. We have building developments in the area ourselves. Our Mr Wilbury knows the plot well and has instructed me to offer you ten thousand pounds more than you paid for it.’

  ‘As I said, I’m definitely not interested. Thank you for your call.’

  She switched off her phone and promptly forgot about it.

  While she waited for a decision from the planners, she decided to look into the history of the old place. Some of the locals remembered old Harry and Grace living there.

  ‘Must have been over twenty years since Grace passed on,’ said Emily, one of the women who worked in the village store.

  ‘More than that I reckon. Our Tommy was barely walking and he went and got himself wed last year.’

  This was from the woman’s friend, Gwen.

  ‘So what happened?’ asked Rosie.

  ‘Think she had a heart attack one night. Poor old thing. Harry never wanted to stay there after that. I heard he’d passed on too, a couple of years later. The place became derelict after he left it. I don’t know who owned it. But you must; you bought it.’

  ‘I dealt with some estate agent in Redruth. I bought it with a reasonable piece of land around it. I’m well pleased with it. So they, the old farmer and his wife, they never had children or any other relations?’

  ‘None that I’ve heard of. Well, must get on.’

  She left them talking while she collected her shopping.

  ‘Thanks for your help, anyway,’ Rosie said. ‘I’ll continue to ask around.’

  The two women were chatting together. She listened half-heartedly but pricked up her ears as she heard them saying,

  ‘I seem to remember there was a fire along at Hell’s Mouth about the same time. Someone dumped a van over the top and it caught alight. I know the police were involved at the time. They went down to look at the wreck but no sign of a body was ever found. They thought it belonged to one of the travellers from the site that was along there. Well, I suppose it’s still there. Bloomin’ nuisance, them travellers are, too.’ Emily was keen to continue to chat. She hated it when they were quiet in the shop.

  ‘Interesting. I suppose dumping old vehicles is quite common around here?’

  ‘Well, they have put up fences and such to stop it. But you know these folks. They find ways and means. My husband says he often sees someone looking for places to dump stuff. My Tom’s a builder, you know. If you need any help with your build, I’m sure he’d be keen.’

  ‘Thanks very much. I’ll bear him in mind. Drew’s going to be in charge, but I’m sure he’ll need other people to help him. I’d better go and see if there’s any news from the planners.’

  ‘Bye then. Hope it all works out for you.’

  ‘Thanks. Bye now.’

  Rosie drove along the cliffs towards what was known locally as Hell’s Mouth. There were several such names in Cornwall. She was intrigued by the thought of people pushing cars over the top. She parked
and went to look over. There were one or two very rusty remains, lying down near the base of the cliffs. Heavy-duty fencing had been erected to prevent anyone pushing things down now. She drove back to Porthcullion and switched on her laptop. The news was back. She had her planning permission, exactly as she’d requested. She was so thrilled, she phoned Drew immediately.

  ‘That’s terrific. We can really get organised now. I’ll speak to you this evening. I’m up to my armpits in muck at the moment.’

  He was continuing with his previous job until she had her permission granted.

  ‘Sorry. I just wanted you to know. Speak later.’

  She went up to the site and began marking out the space. She had visions of a beautiful home here one day and was keen to get going. The old stones and rubbish had largely been sorted and most of the wood burnt, ready to make a start. She could hardly wait for it all to begin properly.

  She ran through the security cameras’ output, not expecting to see much. She suddenly stopped the recording as she saw someone; a slight, hoodied figure passing among the old stones. She followed it through. The person was systematically sorting through the stones and seemed to be looking for something.

  ‘What the …?’ she said aloud. Who could it be and what on earth were they doing? she wondered As far as she could see, no damage was being done. It was somewhat alarming to see anyone on the site, however. Maybe she should invest in some temporary fencing? She would ask Drew what he thought. Meantime, she reactivated all the cameras before leaving the site.

  A few weeks later, the build was making progress. Drew had called in the services of a couple of friends, both builders of some repute. A couple of others had also been recruited, so they were a decent-sized team. The foundations were already well-established and the slab was down, giving a sound basis to everything. Rosie was hanging round the site, not exactly helping much, but just being there was enough for her. She was intrigued to see the base structure of her new home and actually began to doubt it would be big enough. She stood on the slab and looked at the site of her various rooms. It all seemed very small but she said nothing to Drew. Hopefully, it would be bigger when it was finished.