Escape to Willow Cottage

by Bella Osborne

  Beth sent a quick text to Fergus to let him know where Carly was and that she was okay, which was stretching the truth slightly. He replied immediately.

  Thanks B. You’re a . Was worried.

  Jack was busying himself with his coffee maker when Beth came into the kitchen. ‘I only have decaff. Is that okay?’ he asked, holding up a pod.

  ‘Yeah, fine. I’m sorry if I was a bit overprotective before but I meant what I said about Carly and her boyfriend,’ said Beth.

  ‘About them being almost engaged? What is that exactly?’ asked Jack.

  Beth was finding Jack particularly irritating today. ‘Her long-term boyfriend is about to propose.’

  ‘Right. Is this the same guy who she’s been waiting to ask her for three years?’

  ‘She told you?’

  Jack turned round and rested against the worktop, a hint of a smile on his lips. ‘She told me a lot of things.’

  Beth tilted her head in interest but she was not going to ask, even if the curiosity proved fatal. She hoped Carly hadn’t revealed anything about her. For some reason it mattered to her what Jack thought.

  ‘Then you’ll know that she loves him and she’s not looking for a one-night stand with … with someone like you.’

  Jack chuckled. ‘Hell, who made you her mother?’

  ‘So, that was your plan then. Get her drunk and …’

  ‘Hey, not so fast. She was at the bottom of wine bottle number two when I found her. She asked me if I knew you and we started chatting. I was only being friendly.’

  They shared looks of mutual contempt.

  ‘Where’s Leo?’ asked Jack.

  Beth was instantly irritated by his combative tone and she glanced at her watch. ‘He’s with Denis but I’d better go. Don’t touch Carly while I’m gone!’ Beth strode out of the door and sprinted across the road and the village green towards the pub. Engrossed in the kerfuffle with Carly, she had lost track of time. She knew Leo was safe with Denis, but she still felt awful for being so distracted.

  Beth escorted a moaning Leo out of the pub. On the green the same gang of people were taking down the stalls as the last few revellers milled about. Shirley was sitting on a bench conducting an imaginary orchestra while two couples waltzed around in circles. Beth couldn’t be sure if it was the usual level of bonkers for Dumbleford or if Shirley’s 1960s cake had something to do with it.

  Beth spotted Jack. As soon as she approached him he held up his hand as if to stop her. Leo got distracted by a butterfly and started to follow it from buttercup to buttercup nearby.

  ‘I’m done with the accusations, Beth. Your friend is at my house. The door is unlocked so you can get her whenever you want. I’ll be a couple of hours and I’d like to think she’d be gone by the time I get back.’

  ‘The door’s unlocked?’

  ‘Yes, Dumbleford is a quiet little village. Not London. Get used to it!’

  Beth was taken aback by how vehement Jack was but now, having calmed down a bit, she wasn’t sure herself why she’d made such a thing about him and Carly. She guessed it was because she was being protective of her friend. Yes, that must be why she reacted like that.

  ‘Right, thanks. Will do. Sorry if I was a bit …’

  Jack paused mid-walk, waiting for her to finish her sentence.

  She shrugged. ‘Sorry,’ she repeated and walked away, collecting Leo as she went.

  Three fully leaded takeaway coffees later, Carly and a sick bag were on their way back to the train station. Leo was zoned out playing a game on Beth’s phone, so Carly and Beth were able to have a hushed conversation in the front of the hire car.

  ‘I can’t believe you were going to kiss Jack,’ said Beth.

  ‘I wasn’t!’ protested Carly, although she was scowling as she spoke. ‘Well, it was only going to be a little kiss on the cheek not a full-on snog fest!’

  ‘You were not heading for his cheek!’

  ‘That was probably the wine doing the steering,’ said Carly glumly rearranging her sick bag.

  ‘Why were you going to kiss him at all? You don’t know him, he’s a stranger and you have Fergus.’

  ‘He said something lovely … but I can’t remember what,’ said Carly pulling the same face she pulled when she accidentally switched on University Challenge and tried to join in. She sighed. ‘I’m sorry I was drunk.’

  ‘And what did you talk about anyway?’

  ‘I’m so sorry, but I can’t remember,’ said Carly, hugging the sick bag as Beth went a little too fast over another village speed bump.

  ‘Nothing at all?’

  ‘Nope.’ Carly shook her head. ‘Ouch. Wishing I hadn’t done that,’ she said, putting a hand to her forehead.

  ‘Me too,’ muttered Beth.

  ‘Are you and he … you know?’ asked Carly.

  ‘No! Seriously, do you think I would get involved with someone else so quickly after Nick? Or even get involved with anyone at all after Nick?’ Beth’s voice was rising.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Carly’s expression was pained. ‘No. Of course not. Again, very sorry.’

  ‘Good,’ said Beth, relaxing her tight grip on the steering wheel.

  They bumped along the hedgerow-lined lane in silence for a while before Carly spoke. ‘You can’t pledge not to have any more relationships because of Nick.’

  ‘I can,’ said Beth with a snort.

  ‘You shouldn’t,’ said Carly, as Beth opened her mouth to contest. ‘I don’t want to argue. I’m your friend and I’m just saying, you never know. And while I’m at it from what I can remember Jack was really nice to me, so don’t judge him the same as Nick. If he wants to help you, give him a chance.’

  ‘I’m thinking he might not want to do that after today,’ said Beth and she started to grind her teeth.

  Beth was pleased to be waving Carly off on the train back to London but she was a little sad too. Carly was her best friend and despite the chaos she had managed to cause it had still been good to spend some time with her. Sometimes, all you needed was a friend you could be yourself with. They had both been cheered up by the revelation that there were direct trains from Moreton-in-Marsh to Paddington so they could be together in approximately an hour and forty minutes, assuming there were no delays.

  Now that Beth had taken back her phone, Leo was chatty in the car on the way back to Dumbleford. He was reliving all the fun he’d had with Denis at the fete.

  ‘Am I definitely going to go to Denis’s school?’ he asked. It was hard to tell his true feelings on the subject from his neutral tone.

  ‘I think so,’ said Beth. ‘I’ll need to speak to the head teacher once the new term starts.’

  He needed to go to a school and the village one was the logical answer. She no longer had the income to fund a private education and she couldn’t imagine home-schooling. There was a pause before he answered and Beth held her breath whilst glancing at him in her rear-view mirror. This could go either way, she thought.

  ‘Okay,’ he said eventually, breaking out into a smile, and Beth started to breathe properly again.

  By Monday, Carly was once more feeling like a human being as opposed to a small furry-tongued creature that had been trampled by marauding Vikings. Her weekend had been an utter disaster and it was all her own doing. She knew it wasn’t Fergus’s fault that she had built up the image of the treehouse, although he could have warned her that there wouldn’t be any flushing toilets. Equally he wouldn’t have been aware of the large amount of sheep poo, though the fact that the treehouse was on a working sheep farm might have been a clue. However, the lack of a proposal was definitely down to Fergus. She didn’t know what to do about that.

  Going to Dumbleford had not salvaged the weekend as she’d hoped. Beth had abandoned her in a pub when she was feeling glum, so that bit was Beth’s fault. She probably should not have finished the second bottle of wine but it was a long while since she’d been that drunk and she was pretty sure that she hadn’t offended anyone,
so no real harm done.

  She shrugged off any residual guilt, sipped her black chai tea and perused the paperwork in front of her with interest. She’d been asked to sign at pantomimes before but usually refused as, despite having some experience, there was a lot of preparation required for only a handful of signed performances. But this one was different. This one was at a new theatre in Gloucester and Carly was now familiar with its proximity to Beth and the fact that it was an easy train journey from London. It would mean being away from Fergus for a few nights but perhaps that would do them good? There had only been the briefest of text messages exchanged between them and Carly was apprehensive about his return.

  Hopefully, by the time the panto season arrived Beth would have made the cottage liveable and she could stay there and spend some quality time with her friend. She was missing Beth, and an opportunity to stay with her was something to look forward to as long as she could convince Fergus that it was a good idea. Oh yes I can, she thought and chuckled out loud as she folded up the proposition. She’d speak to Fergus about it tonight when he got back from the treehouse. She sighed to herself. She really hoped things were fixable between them.

  Chapter Twelve

  The following week was a blur of activity for Beth, with workmen to liaise with and sorting out Leo’s new school. The head teacher was thrilled to have another pupil joining them and confirmed that Leo would be in the same class as Denis. His uniform was easily purchased direct from the school too, so a day after term started Leo was walking to the local primary, chatting at high speed to Denis. Petra and Beth followed behind. Beth was grinding her teeth – something she seemed to do whenever she was stressed.

  ‘Look at him, he’ll be fine,’ Petra said, giving Beth a reassuring look. ‘It’s a nice school. I like that there aren’t many children, it means they get more attention. Boys need a watching eye.’

  ‘I guess so,’ Beth replied. Seeing him in a new uniform brought home the fact that she had wrenched him away from everything he knew and forced him into this situation, although she had to admit that right now he seemed fine about the change. Beth knew that as soon as the cottage was finished she would be looking to move, so this new school situation, and the feelings that accompanied it, would be a recurring state of affairs and another wave of guilt engulfed her.

  The builder, Kyle, was on site with two colleagues and they got to work alongside a small weasel-like man who was the electrician. Beth was impressed by the amount the four of them could get accomplished as she battled on her own with the triffid-like plant that had been hell-bent on taking over the kitchen.

  Kyle had explained that they were going to do their best to reproduce the original lath and plaster ceilings with modern materials. But they were leaving out the horsehair; Beth had wholeheartedly agreed with that as it just seemed a very bad idea to put any part of a horse in anything. She was also quite keen to get a smooth finish and she hated it when a hair from a paintbrush became immortalized in a painted surface, let alone lots of them.

  There had been a steady stream of boards carried into the living room and upstairs, and repeated banging whilst they were nailed into place before it went eerily quiet and the plastering commenced. Beth had poked her head around the living-room door a couple of times and each time she could see a vast improvement from before. She was so pleased to see that they had protected the large beam over the fireplace with sheeting. She loved the look of the old beam – it was a real feature in the room. For a moment, she could imagine her own knick-knacks and photographs on it above a roaring log fire but she dispelled the image quickly as Willow Cottage was meant to be a project. Getting sentimentally attached to it was a very bad idea.

  When Beth checked her watch, it was time for school pick-up and she wondered how all the hours had dissolved so quickly. She washed her hands and looked at the stubborn plant stump that was still poking its way through the window frame. She wouldn’t be beaten by it; she’d hack at it from the other side when she got back.

  Beth met Leo with more than a little trepidation but she needn’t have worried. Apart from handing her his rucksack with a muffled ‘Hiya,’ he barely acknowledged his mother as he was far too busy discussing football with Denis and two other boys.

  Petra gave her a knowing nod. ‘What is it you say in this country? I told you so.’

  September proved to be a beautiful month as the daytime hours got noticeably shorter and the colours changed around the village. The village green’s trees put on a vivid display as they took on their autumn hues, with the rich bronze of the large beech trees and the deep red shades of the ash and rowan being Beth’s favourites. The last of the ducklings were just distinguishable from their parents and were now glad of a feed midweek, as the tourists only seemed to appear at weekends. The morning skies were almost lavender, and although there was more cloud about, it was still comfortingly warm.

  The school did a brilliant job of putting on the harvest festival, which was very well attended by the villagers and which Leo loved taking part in. He had one line to remember which he delivered perfectly, much to his delight and Beth’s relief. She noticed that Jack gave him a big thumbs-up when he came offstage too.

  Beth was working on the cottage every day. She was up before Leo and could easily get an hour in before he stirred. Thanks to the electrician, the entire cottage was rewired and totally safe, so despite still sleeping in the tent, the introduction of a fridge/freezer, microwave, kettle and toaster had improved things greatly. All the new appliances were residing in the hallway whilst Beth tackled the kitchen, making a little progress each day.

  By the end of the month, Kyle had finished all the essentials, so Beth now had two new ceilings, a new bedroom floor, a leak-free roof, and a damp course. She had been making progress herself – the whole house had been scrubbed and bleached to within a dust speck of its very existence and she was now making inroads on the kitchen, having banished the creeping plant. In fact she was down to the stage she’d been looking forward to most: designing a fitted kitchen.

  The reality of handing over a large chunk of her savings to pay for the work and the lack of anything coming into her account worried her, and she knew it was time to economize further. Within hours, she was literally waving goodbye to the hire car, much to the embarrassment of Leo and the hire-car collector. She hadn’t used it much since they’d got there and trips to the supermarket and launderette could be accomplished on the bus, but she would build up to that adventure; there was only so much she could cope with at once.

  The next milestone came in the form of two large flat-pack boxes and heralded the end of sleeping in the tent. Leo was seriously excited at the prospect of having a real bed again, which made Beth choke up. After an exciting day of screwing together the beds, Beth found herself in the pub on carnivorous quiz night, so called because it was sponsored by the local butcher, and all the prizes were meat- or poultry-related. Only in the Cotswolds, thought Beth and, more accurately, only in Dumbleford. Leo and Denis were in the flat above the pub watching Dr Who on DVD, giving Beth a little time to herself. It felt good to be away from the cottage. She sat at the bar sipping a small glass of wine and engaging in stilted conversation with Petra, who flitted from one customer to the next as they got their rounds in before the quiz started.

  Jack suddenly appeared at Beth’s side. She felt his presence before he spoke. ‘Beth,’ was all he said, with a curt nod of his head.

  ‘Jack.’ She mimicked the nod before returning to her drink. This was their level of interaction since the whole bank holiday debacle with Carly.

  ‘Oh good, you two are friends again,’ gushed Petra, as she pulled a pint of Guinness for Jack. Both Jack and Beth went to speak but it seemed neither had the heart to contradict her. ‘You doing the quiz tonight, Beth?’ asked Petra. Beth shook her head as Jack shuffled coins around in his hand whilst waiting for his drink. Petra leaned over the bar conspiratorially, ‘You should.’ She winked slowly. Beth glanced at Jack in
an attempt to gauge his reaction. She’d hardly spoken to anyone all day and, if she were honest with herself, she wouldn’t have minded joining in.

  ‘Petra, you’re being all mysterious. What do you know?’ asked Jack, paying for his pint.

  ‘I couldn’t possibly say but, trust me, you need Beth in the team tonight. Unless of course you want another crushing humiliation like last week?’

  ‘Come on, then,’ said Jack, walking away from the bar. It was very similar to the way he spoke to Doris. Oh to be held in that high regard by Jack, thought Beth, as she smirked to herself. She joined the usual team members at their table and they all asked her the same questions that everyone did: How are you settling into the village? How is the cottage coming along? Beth had fairly set answers for both which she repeated, and then picked up her glass to indicate the interrogation was over.

  Jack let out a slow steady breath and Beth stiffened. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t got on with weatherproofing the window frames before the weather changes.’ Jack was talking into his pint. She had expected some sort of criticism from him but she wasn’t going to rise to it. She knew she wasn’t going to be friends with Jack but she didn’t have the energy to be enemies either.

  ‘Hmm.’ She pondered his statement. ‘I don’t know why I haven’t either.’ Jack looked briefly in her direction and raised one eyebrow in a look of disbelief. ‘It’s probably because there’s only me doing it all and I thought getting the place hygienic so that Leo and I don’t come down with some fatal dirt-related disease was more important. Oh, and focusing on getting the kitchen fitted so that we can actually eat something different to barbecued meat and microwaved jacket potato.’

  All eyes at the table studied their drinks intensely as silence reigned.

  ‘You need a hand?’ asked Jack at last, a slow smile playing on his lips.

  ‘No, thanks,’ she answered almost before he’d finished the sentence.

  Simon bent forward. ‘Did you say you were fitting your own kitchen? Because I’m a chippy by trade and I’d happily give you a hand. Only if you wanted me to, obviously.’ He appeared keen to avoid the same rebuff as Jack.