Escape to Willow Cottage

by Bella Osborne

  ‘It wasn’t a lot better than Wil—’ he stopped himself. ‘Than your place, well, before the ceilings fell in anyway.’ Beth rolled her eyes. ‘I had to rip everything out, refit the kitchen and bathroom and replaster everywhere.’

  ‘You need a strong wrist action for that, don’t you?’ asked Beth innocently.

  ‘Mmm, yeah.’ Jack blinked hard, cleared his throat and carried on. ‘The only thing I got someone in for was the electrics.’

  Beth looked around the sleek and compact fitted kitchen. ‘You did this?’

  ‘Yeah, Simon gave me a hand. He’s a carpenter by trade but earns more working at the supermarket, if you can work that one out.’

  ‘Nick was rubbish at DIY,’ said Leo, without looking up from his bowl.

  ‘Nick is my ex,’ explained Beth. ‘He was rubbish at a lot of things.’

  ‘Right.’ Jack looked uncomfortable. ‘The toughest bit was getting up the flooring in here.’ Jack was rummaging in a drawer as he spoke and he pulled out some photographs. ‘They’d used some sort of super-strong adhesive and every tile shattered and every bit of adhesive had to be chipped off the floor. It took me days.’

  Beth wasn’t listening, she was thinking. She didn’t like asking for help but this was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. ‘Do you fancy getting a bit more involved?’

  Jack looked startled at the proposition. Beth held his gaze. He rubbed his chin and looked from a smiling Beth to Leo, who was helping himself to another bowl of muesli. Jack fiddled with the photographs in his hands.

  ‘Thanks … and everything but I’m not …’

  ‘Oh, I’d pay you,’ said Beth, ‘I wouldn’t expect you to do it for free. It’s not a favour I’m asking; it would be a business arrangement.’

  Jack’s frown deepened. ‘You’re a lovely, um, woman, but you know I’m not ready for a relationship … or business arrangement … of any kind right now or anytime soon.’

  Beth looked momentarily confused until she realized how what she’d said may have sounded. ‘Oh, God, no!’ She got a fit of nervous giggles. ‘I meant more involved in Willow Cottage. Not with me!’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Jack looked thankful.

  ‘Sorry. That sounded okay in my head.’ Beth giggled as her nerves took over. Leo rolled his eyes and carried on eating.

  ‘No. My mistake,’ said Jack, trying to look anywhere but at Beth.

  ‘To be clear. I’d pay you to help at Willow Cottage. Nothing else.’ Her cheeks were burning and she hated to think what colour they had turned. At least the heat might help to dry off her hair, which was hanging loosely around her shoulders.

  ‘Right, of course. Sure, I’d be happy to help.’ Jack gulped down the rest of his water.

  Beth wasn’t sure if Jack meant it but, if it was embarrassment at his mistake that had made him agree, she was okay with that as Jack clearly knew what he was doing when it came to renovation.

  ‘What are they?’ asked Beth, pointing at the photos, desperate to change the subject. Jack looked down too and jolted his head as if he was just noticing them for the first time.

  ‘They’re before and after pictures of this place.’ He stepped closer and leaning over Beth’s shoulder he placed the photographs on the table in pairs. Beth could smell his aftershave and the closeness of him made her pulse quicken. What on earth was going on? Perhaps being naked under the bathrobe was setting off some sort of primal alarm. She tried to concentrate on the pictures in front of her. She reached out a hand to pick up the after photo of the living room as Jack reached across and her hand connected with his forearm. Some sort of zing made them both spring apart. Beth looked up and then realized how close her face was to Jack’s. There was a moment where they both froze.

  ‘I like your wood …’ started Beth, realizing her mouth had gone dry. She pointed to the driftwood shelf in the picture. ‘It’s really lovely.’

  ‘I can give you one if you’d like?’

  Beth’s eyebrows shot up and Jack’s face registered the overtone of the otherwise innocent conversation. Their eyes widened at the same time.

  ‘Anyway, I had better get back …’ Jack was looking awkward as he moved quickly towards the front door.

  ‘Oh, and us too.’ Beth stood up, clutching the robe around her, and beckoned Leo to his feet. He stood up, holding his towel with one hand and still spooning food into his mouth with the other as he inched round the table. ‘We need to get the tent dried out.’

  Jack opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ said Beth, as she squeezed passed him. ‘Thanks for the use of the shower and for breakfast. We really appreciate it.’ She took the spoon from Leo and dropped it in the sink as they passed. ‘We’ll wash these and drop them back sometime,’ she said, indicating the bathrobe and towel as she slipped out of the front door and let out a sigh of relief. It was still early so hopefully not too many people would see them make the dash back to the cottage but anything was better than being trapped in an innuendo nightmare with Jack.

  A couple of hours later Denis called for Leo and the two disappeared to play in the pub garden as the green was fully occupied with lots of people rushing about with boxes, cakes, plants and large vegetables. Thankfully, Kyle the builder had heeded her plea and arrived early and imparted the glorious news that he thought the ceilings might be covered by her insurance. A few lengthy calls later and it was agreed that she could get quotes for the water damage and an assessor would visit the following week.

  Beth felt surprisingly good walking Kyle through her priorities and from his previous visit he was able to confirm what he could and couldn’t do for the money she was prepared to pay. Kyle did some makeshift repairs to the roof so it was temporarily watertight, and promised to drop the quote round for the insurance work in the next couple of days.

  Beth went out into the back garden to check on the progress of the tent, sleeping bags and bedrolls that were drying out nicely on the improvised washing line which was one of the bushes. She thought she heard a noise like someone knocking on a door and, suspecting that Leo was back, went back into the house and opened the front door.

  ‘Surprise!’ said an overenthusiastic Carly as she threw her arms round Beth and squeezed her.

  Beth stood rooted to the spot. Her mind went a complete blank for a moment, perhaps she was in shock. Eventually Beth hugged her back. ‘Wow, um, this is a surprise. Where’s Fergus?’ she asked, looking behind Carly.

  ‘Huge disaster. Treehouse was exactly that. It was a hut in a tree in a field and there was no proposal so … bloody hell, this is a shithole!’ she said, suddenly noticing the hallway she’d walked into. She glanced into the living room. ‘What the hell happened?’ Carly swung round and it was as if she went into slow motion giving Beth time to observe every detail; she was immaculate from her sleek dark glossy hair, to her perfectly pedicured toes. She was wearing a petite summery dress and casual jacket and looked like an advert for summer. Beth on the other hand had dried-by-itself hair with roots that were well past the ‘need touching up stage’, was wearing a now rather tatty Ted Baker blouse, thanks to its encounter with the cottage’s overgrown shrubbery, and a pair of cheap flip flops. She wiggled her unpainted toes self-consciously.

  Beth didn’t like the feeling that came over her. It was a mixture of embarrassment and jealousy and it wasn’t pleasant to admit to. The contrast between her and Carly was now a chasm whereas only a few weeks ago they had been like two perfectly fashioned peas in an organic designer pod. Beth found she was grinding her teeth again, so she stopped.

  ‘Let’s go to the pub and I’ll explain,’ said Beth, putting an arm around Carly and steering her out of the front door. Carly put on her sunglasses and didn’t argue. As they walked towards the pub, Beth sniffed the air. ‘Can you smell poo?’

  Two large glasses of wine later, both women were feeling a whole lot better having offloaded all of their woes to the other. Beth was feeling more settled i
n Carly’s company and now felt bad for having had her earlier pang of jealousy. It was lovely to see Carly even if it was unexpected. And at least now Carly had seen Willow Cottage in all its awfulness she would appreciate its transformation when it was eventually renovated.

  ‘I’ve missed this so much, Beth. I’ve missed you.’ Carly looked teary as she reached out a hand.

  ‘I’ve missed you too.’ Beth gave Carly another hug. She’d missed having someone to talk to that knew her inside and out. ‘Right, you get yourself another glass of wine and I’ll take Leo and Denis to investigate this Summer Fete. That should buy us some more chatting time.’

  The boys were like pinballs at the fingertips of the legendary pinball wizard as they charged around the village green from stall to stall. A lot more children seemed to have appeared, some of whom Denis knew, and before long there was a small gang of children dominating one stall at a time. All the old favourites were there; Hook A Duck, Coconut Shy, and Splat the Rat as well as newer ones like face painting, temporary tattoos and Football Penalty Shootout. The latter was a big hit with the boys and, while they were rejoining the lengthy queue for yet another go, Beth went to investigate the marquee. She walked across the spongy grass taking in the pale azure sky and the sound of people laughing and generally having a good time. Beth was enjoying the village green fete, you didn’t get anything quite like it in London. The marquee was huge inside and had been sectioned off for different competition items; the results of the best cake were being announced as Beth made her way nearer the front and tried to ignore how uncomfortably warm it was.

  A woman in a floaty top and leather trousers was tapping a microphone. ‘So, in third place … Mr Pleasance with his giant pineapple cake. One to rival Mr Plumley’s marrow,’ snorted the woman at her own joke. Mr Pleasance happily accepted his third-place rosette and returned to the crowd amidst lots of backslapping. ‘Second place goes to the wonderful gooey chocolate cake by Mrs Oldham.’ A lengthy round of applause followed as a miffed Mrs Oldham, putting on her best valiant-loser face, accepted her rosette and prize. ‘And the worthy winner of Dumbleford’s Summer Fete Best Cake Competition is …’ The woman left too much of a pause and the crowd started heckling. ‘Mrs Pritchard and her 1960s cherry and almond cake!’ Beth was wondering what qualified it as 1960s when a violently coloured swirly patterned cake was lifted up high to whoops of applause.

  To Beth’s surprise, the person that collected the red rosette and glinting glass trophy was none other than Shirley the bag lady. Beth joined in the enthusiastic clapping as Shirley took the microphone. ‘It’s also a proper 1960s cake inside, if you know what I mean! Pound a slice, come and get it!’ Before she could hand back the microphone there was a surge of people towards her.

  Beth was laughing as she left the marquee and on checking her watch realized that the time had sped by and she had left Carly on her own for a lot longer than she’d intended. She found the now-penniless boys who were sitting under a vast gnarled oak tree swapping sweets they had won, and the three of them made their way back into the pub.

  Leo and Denis disappeared out into the garden and Beth strode towards where she had left Carly. She could hear Carly’s raucous laughter before she saw her and it made her smile. The small table now had two empty wine bottles on it and someone else was sitting there with Carly draped over them. For a moment Beth thought that Fergus had turned up until she took a proper look. Jack had his arm around Carly and she was going in for a kiss.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘Carly!’ said Beth, her voice sharp.

  Carly spun in Beth’s direction with an exaggerated movement. With slow blinks she looked at Beth until something registered.

  ‘Beth! This is … um … what was your name again?’ She swung precariously back towards Jack who stopped her falling on him with one hand whilst holding the pub table steady with the other.

  ‘I know who it is.’ Beth was trying to suppress the annoyance that was rapidly developing within her.

  ‘He’s lov-erly,’ cooed Carly whilst she stroked his arm in a deliberate action.

  ‘I’d like to know what he’s planning on doing with my drunk friend?’ Beth retorted. Jack let go of Carly as if she were a lit firework.

  As the accusation slowly registered, Carly looked hurt. ‘I’m not dunk!’ she protested as she slowly slid towards the floor.

  Jack was looking blindly from one woman to the other as if he’d just been teleported there. ‘I was just …’

  ‘For someone that wasn’t looking for a relationship a few hours ago you’ve sure as hell come round to the idea quick!’ Beth stepped forward and grabbed Carly by one arm and hauled her into a standing position. ‘Come on! We’re leaving now.’

  Carly wobbled on unsteady legs, grinned inanely at Jack and was towed away.

  They stumbled into the sunshine and the mêlée of the Summer Fete quickly surrounded them.

  ‘Ooooh, coconuts!’ squealed Carly, veering off.

  Now that the flash of temper had subsided Beth wasn’t entirely sure where she was heading. Having separated Carly and Jack she wasn’t certain why she’d interfered but in that moment it had seemed like the only thing to do.

  ‘Beth, hang on!’ called out Jack, jogging up to them and catching Carly mid-sway.

  Beth raised her eyebrows. ‘Shall I leave you to it?’ she asked, her question aimed pointedly at Jack.

  ‘I’m fine, really fine. Oh, hello, it’s you again!’ Carly grinned broadly, full of surprise at the sight of Jack keeping her upright.

  ‘She needs to sober up. Help me take her back to my place, will you?’ asked Jack.

  ‘And how safe will she be there?’

  ‘Bloody hell, Beth, I’m trying to help here.’

  Beth didn’t really have another option. She couldn’t see Carly being able to crawl into her tent even though it purported to be a three-man version; she and Leo hadn’t had enough space.

  ‘You always have the answer, don’t you, Jack Selby?’ Beth was indignant.

  ‘You got a better one?’ He was frowning at her.

  ‘That’s not the point.’ People were slowing down and stopping to listen. ‘Right, fine. Come on, then.’ She stood on the other side of Carly, put an arm round her and began to frogmarch her towards Jack’s.

  ‘Carly, walk straight!’ Beth ordered.

  ‘She can’t, she’s drunk!’ said Jack. Then he leaned across to try to catch Beth’s eye. ‘Does she have a problem?’ he asked, his voice softer.

  Beth halted and Carly swung forward precariously. ‘Are you calling my friend an alcoholic?’

  ‘No, I’m asking if she …’

  ‘Ooooh, shops,’ said Carly as they were waiting to cross the road at the far end of the village.

  ‘A butcher’s, a gift shop and a dress shop for anyone that wants to look like a pantomime dame. Come on,’ said Beth, surging ahead.

  ‘A bit harsh,’ said Jack, evidently trying to lighten the somewhat frosty mood.

  ‘Ooooh, I like panto,’ slurred Carly swaying unsteadily.

  ‘Oh no you don’t,’ Jack replied, which set Carly off into a fit of giggles. Was he still flirting with her?

  Beth stopped in the middle of the road and leaned round a wobbling Carly to speak to Jack. ‘Look, in case you hadn’t realized, this is my best friend Carly Wilson. She is almost engaged to a wonderful man called Fergus. I do not want you sticking your oar in or anything else come to that!’ Beth held Jack’s glare.

  ‘Traffic!’ he said, forcing Carly and Beth onto the pavement as a stream of cars trundled towards them. It was difficult to have a conversation with someone swaying in the middle so Beth focused on moving Carly along as quickly as possible.

  ‘It’s like a three-legged race,’ said Carly, ‘but with, one, two, four … lots of legs!’

  Once inside Jack’s cottage, an overexcited Doris greeted them with slobbery kisses so Jack left Beth to cope with Carly while he escorted Doris into the garden.
<
br />   ‘Have a lie-down and see if you can sleep it off,’ said Beth, guiding Carly onto the sofa.

  ‘Ooooh, look, pretty shelf,’ said Carly, reaching out a hand towards the driftwood and sideswiping a small wooden box that was nestled there, sending it clattering onto the floor. ‘Whoopsie,’ she said with a giggle, as Beth dashed to rescue the item.

  Beth crouched down and retrieved the box, which had an intricate inlaid design on its lid, and as she picked it up a metal disc fell out. ‘Bugger,’ said Beth, picking that up too and trying to work out how to fit it back into the recess in the lid.

  ‘Why doesn’t this stereo work?’ complained Carly from the other side of the room, where she was pressing all the buttons on a black box.

  ‘Because it’s a printer,’ announced Jack as he came in from the garden, leaving a disgruntled Doris barking behind him.

  ‘But we need moooosic!’ whined Carly, swaying precariously as Jack expertly steered her onto the sofa.

  ‘Great idea. You lie down there and I’ll sort out some music.’

  Beth was frantically shaking her head at Jack. The last thing they needed was an uncoordinated Carly pogoing around the living room; nothing would be safe.

  ‘I think I’ve got “Is This The Way To Amarillo” somewhere,’ he said, raising an eyebrow in Beth’s direction. Beth felt her cheeks instantly colour up – so he had seen her the day he left the barbecue. He joined Beth and took the small box from her.

  ‘I’m sorry, is it broken?’ she asked, screwing up her face and hoping the box wasn’t as expensive as it looked.

  Jack shook his head. ‘Completely ruined.’

  ‘Oh dear, is it?’ Beth bit her lip as she took a closer look.

  ‘No, the humidifier has popped out, that’s all,’ he said flatly, expertly replacing the disc and returning the box to the shelf. ‘It’s a cigar box.’ Beth looked suitably surprised. ‘It was my grandfather’s.’ They stood and looked at the box for a moment until they were interrupted by a large snore from Carly.

  ‘Come on, let’s leave Sleeping Beauty and get a coffee,’ said Jack, leaving the room.