Meet Me at Willow Hall

by Carla Burgess

  ‘Not really. My leg gets stiff.’

  ‘Oh, no, really? That’s a shame. You were a great dancer.’

  ‘I know, but a guy’s got to slow down sometime.’

  I laughed at him. ‘You poor old arthritic man! You look all right to me.’

  ‘Yeah, well, appearances can be deceptive.’ I must have looked stricken because he laughed. ‘I’m all right. Don’t worry. Here…’ He lifted my arm and spun me round before pulling me against his body. ‘Maybe I’ve just had no one to dance with. And no reason to dance.’

  He kissed me harder and deeper this time, making my head spin with lust. The trees above us rustled in the breeze, showering us with droplets of water, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except Anthony and the feel of his lips on mine. Eventually, we started walking again, but kept having to stop to kiss every few minutes. It must have taken us an hour to do the ten-minute walk home.

  ‘Wow! It looks a bit different in here, doesn’t it?’ Anthony said, looking round at my hallway as I let him in through the front door. I laughed, remembering his horror-struck face the first time he’d laid eyes on my pink flowery house. It wasn’t like that any more. My boiler had burst and flooded the whole place, so I’d repainted everything in pastel tones. It was still pink and girly with vintage touches, but the effect was more Laura Ashley than tart’s boudoir. I could tell by Anthony’s face that he approved.

  ‘The last time you saw it, it was dripping water, wasn’t it?’ I said. ‘Do you want a cup of coffee?’

  ‘Tea, please.’

  There was lots of rustling as he peeled off the cagoule and went into the lounge. ‘Ah, old friend,’ he said, sitting down on the sofa and giving its arm a pat. ‘How I missed you.’

  ‘You only want me for my sofa,’ I said lightly.

  He laughed and patted the cushion next to him. ‘Come here, wench.’

  I laughed and practically threw myself on top of him. He felt so good, pressed up against me. His hand sneaked around the back of my neck and he kissed me softly, his tongue slipping past my lips and into my mouth. Any other thoughts in my head slipped into oblivion, and all I could think about was the taste of his lips, the smell of his skin, and the heat emanating from his body.

  We’d always had this passion for each other. I’d felt an animalistic pull towards him the moment I first laid eyes on him. We’d kissed that first night, almost forgetting we were in a public bar as we got lost in the moment. And when we’d lived together, we could hardly take our hands off each other. I felt the same pull now. Nothing had changed between us. The past year melted away as we kissed and stroked and pressed against each other. He was mine. And he was back. That was all I needed to know at that moment.

  ‘I’m supposed to be making you tea,’ I said, pulling away from him and standing up. ‘And I’ll get you some bedding.’

  I expected some kind of protest but he just nodded, accepting that he wasn’t going to be sleeping in my bed tonight.

  I switched the kettle back on and went upstairs to get the spare duvet and a pillow from my bed. He was taking off his shirt when I came back down. I stopped in the doorway, suddenly unsure if I should be giving him more privacy.

  ‘Come in, don’t be daft,’ he said, draping it over the back of the armchair.

  ‘Okay.’ I placed the duvet and pillow on the sofa ready for him, feeling flustered by the sight of his body. He wasn’t exactly ripped, but he was nicely defined. Broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. My eyes were drawn to him over and over again, remembering the feel of his skin beneath my hands. ‘Right, I’ll make that tea.’

  ‘About time. I’ve been waiting for ages.’

  ‘Cheeky!’

  I went through to the kitchen, and when I came back with the tea, he was beneath the covers with his head on the pillow.

  ‘Right.’ I kissed him on the head and placed his drink on the coffee table next to him. ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To bed.’

  ‘Not yet. Get in here with me.’

  ‘Err…’

  ‘Just for a minute. Come on, come and give me a cuddle.’

  ‘Just for a minute?’

  ‘Of course.’

  I put my drink next to his and slipped under the covers, nestling into his arms. ‘Mmm. Now, this would be much better if you were naked.’

  I tutted. ‘Not on our first date, Anthony.’

  He chuckled. ‘Of course. Silly me. Sorry.’

  ‘I should think so.’

  He nuzzled the back of my neck and kissed my shoulder. It felt so good to be snuggled up with him like this. Closing my eyes, I drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Nine

  Anthony was still fast asleep when I woke up at six the following morning. The early morning sunshine filtered through the living-room blinds, casting stripy shadows across the walls. He still had his arms around me, and I was so warm and comfortable that I didn’t want to move, but I had to get up and open the shop.

  Careful not to wake him, I slipped out from beneath the covers and went upstairs to shower. I felt rested and happy. It was nice to have just slept together rather than having sex. Somehow, it made me feel closer to him. Last night had been about being together and enjoying each other’s company, and it was nice to know it wasn’t just about the physical side of things.

  I made breakfast and left a cup of tea and a note on the coffee table for Anthony when he woke up. I was surprised he wasn’t awake yet. In the old days, he’d be up and out running by now. It was nice to watch him sleep, though. He looked so peaceful I wanted to continue watching him, but I had to get to work.

  He showed up at the shop about ten o’clock. Even though it had only been a few hours since I’d last seen him, my heart soared and I reached up and hugged him.

  ‘You should have woken me up,’ he said, kissing my neck.

  ‘Well, you’re not in work, are you? I thought it was best to let you sleep. How are you feeling?’

  He looked surprised by my question. His eyebrows shot up and then he frowned. ‘Good. Why?’

  ‘Oh!’ I was slightly bewildered by his defensive tone. ‘I just wondered if you were comfortable on the sofa. You didn’t wake up with a crick in your neck or a dead arm?’

  ‘No. I feel good.’ His smile returned and I noticed how his eyes were the same blue as the sky above us. ‘How about you?’

  ‘I feel great.’ Reaching up, I kissed his cheek. ‘Bobbi’s not, though. She’s come into work but she’s still not well.’

  ‘That’s no good. Do you want me to take her home? I’ve walked up but I can get the car.’

  ‘Maybe. Let me ask.’

  ‘Bobbi?’ I called, going back into the shop. ‘Anthony said he’ll take you home if you want?’

  ‘Anthony?’ She straightened up, looking confused. ‘Wait! Are you two back together?’

  ‘Errrrr…’ I went bright red, embarrassed to be having this conversation in front of Anthony. ‘Sort of.’

  Bobbi sprang up from her seat. ‘Yes!’ she said, enthusiastically. ‘I knew you would! I knew it! I knew it! How many times have I told you that you and Anthony are made for each other? Oh, this is wonderful. You’re going to get married and have babies and be together for ever.’

  ‘Bobbi!’ I hissed, going an even brighter shade of red.

  ‘Steady on!’ Anthony said with a nervous laugh. ‘We’re taking things slowly, okay? Now, do you want a lift home?’

  ‘No, I’m going to stay. I’m feeling a bit better all of a sudden.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ I said doubtfully. ‘You were at death’s door a minute ago.’

  ‘It sort of comes in waves. And you two have cheered me right up.’

  ‘Oh, good,’ I said. ‘I’ll make a cup of tea. Do you want one, Anthony?’

  ‘No, I’d better go. I just came to say goodbye. I’ve got things to do at home.’

  ‘Okay.’ I’d been hoping he might stay all day. I wante
d to ask when I could see him again, but I didn’t want to scare him off by being too needy. ‘Bye then.’

  His eyes flickered and he pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. ‘When can I see you again?’

  I beamed at him. ‘When are you free?’

  ‘Tonight?’

  That soon? My heart swelled. ‘Fine by me.’

  ‘Will you come to me?’

  ‘If you like. What time?’

  He shook his head. ‘As soon as you can.’

  ‘Oh. Okay!’ I laughed in disbelief. ‘I’ll see you about six then.’

  ‘Great.’ He kissed me firmly on the lips. ‘I’ll cook. See you later.’

  I gazed after him with a soppy smile on my face, then realised Bobbi was watching me.

  ‘Rachel’s in love! Rachel’s in love!’

  ‘Oh, get lost, Bobbi!’ I said, my cheeks glowing bright red.

  ‘You are! And he feels the same way about you too. Anyone can see it.’

  A slow smile spread across my face and I felt so joyful I wanted to dance around the shop. Instead I asked her how she was getting on with Jayjay.

  ‘We’re good, thanks!’ She smiled. ‘We’re thinking of getting our own place together but I’m not sure how my mum will take it.’

  ‘Why? You’re twenty now. She can’t keep you by her side for ever.’

  ‘I know, but she’s been doing so well recently I don’t want to change anything in case it upsets her again.’

  ‘But what’s the alternative? Wait until she’s low again?’

  Bobbi sighed. ‘Yeah, I know. It’s just hard. I think it’s me more than her, really. She loves Jayjay so I can’t see her having a problem with it at all. It’s a big thing moving in with someone, though, isn’t it? What if it doesn’t work out?’

  I shrugged. ‘That’s the chance you take, I suppose. Has Jayjay been looking after you while you’ve been sick?’

  ‘No, I told him to stay away in case he caught it.’ She swallowed hard and turned in her seat. Standing up suddenly, she rushed to the toilet and threw up.

  ‘Oh! Errm, perhaps I should close up and take you home?’ I suggested, feeling a bit alarmed. I liked how she’d told Jayjay to stay away but was willing to share her germs with me.

  ‘No, it’s okay,’ she said after a moment. The toilet flushed and I heard the sound of the toilet roll spinning as she pulled off a few sheets to wipe her mouth. ‘I feel a bit better now.’ Standing up, she supported herself on the doorway for a moment before coming to sit back down.

  ‘Bobbi,’ I said firmly, shaking my head at her. ‘There’s no way you’re well enough to work. Go home.’

  ***

  I phoned my mum at lunchtime and told her I’d decided to go ahead with the Brew House. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t told her before, really.

  ‘Really? That’s wonderful news! I’m so pleased. What changed your mind?’

  ‘Err, well, Anthony actually.’

  ‘Yes?’

  I heard the expectation in her voice and smiled.

  ‘We’re back together.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness! That’s even better than the Brew House! I’m so pleased for you, Rachel. You know how much I adore him and I have a really good feeling about you two this time.’

  ‘We’re taking things slowly, though, just seeing how it goes.’

  ‘Marvellous! Can you come round tonight and tell me all about it?’

  ‘I can’t, sorry. Anthony’s cooking me dinner.’

  ‘Really? Why don’t you close up early so you have plenty of time to get ready?’

  ‘That doesn’t look very professional.’

  ‘Just this once won’t matter. Go on, give yourself an hour off.’

  Anthony rang just before I left and gave me the code for his gate so I could let myself in when I got there. I wrote it down with shaking hands and propped it up on my dashboard. I was too nervous and excited to memorise it.

  ***

  I punched the code into the electronic pad and the gate swung open. The gatehouse looked even prettier than last time, now that the climbing rose was flowering red against its white walls. Anthony appeared in the doorway, looking sexy in a blue, short-sleeved shirt and jeans. My heart leapt when I saw him and I couldn’t stop smiling as I parked my little car next to his big black shiny one on the gravel driveway. Anthony came over and opened my door.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, smiling down at me.

  ‘Hello.’ I stood up and kissed him. It felt so good to see him and be able to kiss him like I used to. The warm breeze whispered through the cornfield and stirred my hair.

  ‘Dinner’s nearly ready,’ he said, taking my hand and leading me into the cottage. Inside it smelt wonderfully of chicken and roasting vegetables. ‘I hope you’re hungry. I’ve made loads.’

  ‘I’ve missed your cooking.’ I sniffed the air appreciatively. He’d always been great in the kitchen. He was the perfect man to live with. Clean, tidy and a great cook.

  ‘You only want me for my food.’

  ‘No, I want you for your body,’ I said lightly.

  He laughed and went through to the kitchen. ‘What would you like to drink?’

  ‘Have you got lemonade?’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve got wine if you want some?’

  ‘No, I’m driving.’

  ‘Stay.’ He leaned on the worktop and looked at me. ‘We don’t have to do anything.’

  I hesitated. ‘I’ve got to open the shop in the morning.’

  He shrugged. ‘I have to leave for work at six anyway.’

  ‘Oh. Okay.’

  ‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to,’ he said, opening the oven door and checking on the food inside. I felt the blast of heat on my legs. ‘It’s just, I really enjoyed being with you last night.’ He shut the oven door and straightened up. ‘I miss sleeping with you and being with you. I don’t mean the sex, although I miss that too, obviously. I mean, just sharing a bed and feeling close to you. Do you get what I mean?’ He looked slightly embarrassed, as though he’d said too much.

  ‘Of course I do. I was thinking the same thing actually.’

  He smiled, his cheeks flushed from the oven. ‘So? Wine or lemonade?’

  ‘I’ll have wine then, please.’

  He poured me a glass and told me to sit down at the kitchen table while he served the food. It was a small round table and he’d covered it with a white tablecloth and placed a single red rose in a bud vase in the middle. I opened my mouth to comment and then shut it again. He was embarrassed enough as it was, and I didn’t want to embarrass him further, so instead I watched him move around the kitchen, laying the food out on the plates carefully and wiping up any spills.

  ‘You really are the perfect man,’ I said, looking at the plate of food he’d laid in front of me.

  He laughed and sat down in the seat opposite. ‘Says the woman whose heart I so carelessly broke twelve months ago.’

  ‘We’re not talking about that, remember.’ I picked up my knife and fork. ‘But seeing as you brought it up, I’ll just say that the reason why I was so heartbroken is because you are perfect.’

  ‘Hardly!’ he scoffed. ‘I have plenty of faults.’

  ‘Like what?’ I cut into a new potato and popped it into my mouth.

  ‘I’m broken.’

  ‘Broken?’ It was such a ridiculous thing to say that I almost laughed, but Anthony wasn’t smiling at all. All he did was shrug. Frowning, I waited for him to explain.

  ‘I can’t have kids, for a start,’ he said, reaching for his wine.

  ‘Oh?’ Can’t? That was news to me. He usually said he didn’t want them. ‘Was that something to do with the accident?’ I asked, when it became clear he wasn’t going to explain.

  ‘No. Anyway, I think this counts as talking about the future, which isn’t allowed.’ Anthony smiled as he reached across the table for my empty plate. ‘Shall we go for a walk? I realised earlier that you haven’t met Arthur yet, or seen his garden.
I think you’ll like it.’

  We walked hand in hand up towards the house. The sun was setting over the fields, filling the sky with golden light. The landscape was so beautiful I made Anthony stop so I could take a photograph on my phone. I took more photos of the Brew House to show Bobbi, and then we carried on to find Arthur.

  The clank of a watering can behind the tall stone wall told us he was already in his garden, watering his plants. Anthony peered round the wooden door. ‘Hi, Arthur, I’ve brought someone to meet you.’ Turning to me, he beckoned me through into the garden. ‘Arthur, this is Rachel; Rachel, this is Arthur.’

  Arthur was a short, stocky man, with short, grey hair and a weathered, leathery look about him. He smiled warmly as he shook my hand with his large, rough one. I liked him immediately. His smile lit up his whole face and he had the kindest brown eyes.

  ‘Hello, Rachel. Lovely to meet you at last! I’ve heard lots about you.’

  ‘Hello, Arthur.’

  ‘I thought Rachel might like to see your garden, seeing as she’s a florist.’

  ‘Of course. Come on, I’ll show you around.’ He placed his green watering can on the path next to a bed of potato plants and started to give us a guided tour of his garden. The vegetable beds were beautifully neat and weeded to perfection. Rows and rows of vegetables were lined up with military precision. Spring cabbages, carrots, leeks, potatoes, onions, corn. Green beans and peas grew up trellises against the wall. Arthur looked proud as he pointed them all out to me and I found myself completely absorbed by what he was saying. It all smelt so wonderfully earthy, and I found myself thinking this garden could have been just like this one hundred years ago. It was like time had stood still. From the weather vane on top of his shed, to the sundial clock in the centre of the garden, it was all so perfect.

  ‘I’m growing some flowers too,’ he said modestly, leading us over to the other side of the garden to show us his many beautiful old English roses. ‘I grow all sorts of flowers all year round, not just roses. The tulips this spring came through really well. And I have hellebores in the winter. I don’t know what it is about this place but everything seems to just grow here. I’ve got allium, stocks, foxgloves, lupins, alysum, sweet peas. Loads and loads of sweet peas.’