‘Yes,’ said Rhonda.
‘That’s not cottaging,’ said Beth, slowly in hushed tones, as if addressing a child.
‘Isn’t it? What’s cottaging, then?’ said Rhonda, looking incredulous.
Beth made some poor excuse about having to get back to the cottage in a hurry and almost fell over her own feet in her haste to escape having to answer Rhonda’s question. She was grateful to return to her latest masterclass, which today was tiling the kitchen walls between the worktop and the wall cupboards. She’d picked up an array of ‘How to’ leaflets when she’d last visited the DIY store and they were proving quite useful. The only problem was that she didn’t have the tools required to do the tricky bits where you had to cut the tiles to slot them into gaps. Nothing was ever straightforward with Willow Cottage.
A very excited Leo hurtled into the cottage after school and wanted to go straight to the village green as he’d seen what he had termed a ‘ginormous bonfire’ and wanted to investigate further.
‘Sorry. Spellings first. Then you need to get changed and then Jack is coming over so we can all go together.’
Leo’s expression changed. He watched his mother closely. ‘Is he your new boyfriend?’
Beth felt the colour instantly spread up her neck. ‘No. Goodness me. Of course not. Why would you think that? No. Definitely not … No.’ She may have overdone her response. Leo’s expression was fixed. She wondered what he was thinking. She pursed her lips and waited.
‘Okay,’ he said and he disappeared into the living room and returned with the guy. ‘His head isn’t on straight.’ Leo held the guy at arm’s length. It was bigger than him.
‘Yeah, I know. It’s the best I could do. And I figured if he’d been hanged then his head might be a bit cockeyed.’
‘Cool!’ said Leo, his enthusiasm instantly restored.
Chapter Sixteen
Jack turned up, as agreed, and set to work patching up the crack in the living-room wall.
‘Was Ernie all right last night?’ Beth asked.
‘No, he took a bit of calming down to be honest. I got away at about midnight.’
‘You took him home?’
‘Yeah, but he was still restless so I got him a cocoa and did a couple of bits that needed doing there.’ Beth must have been frowning. ‘You know, bank statements and bills that sort of thing. Wilf used to do it for him but …’
‘That’s kind,’ said Beth, feeling that ‘kind’ didn’t really cover it.
‘Like you said, I’m an all-round saint really.’ He gave her a cheeky lopsided grin and returned his attention to fixing the crack. Beth went to get showered and changed and when she emerged the washing machine was humming gently in its spot in the kitchen.
‘That was quick.’
‘It’s easy when you’ve done a few. You’ve done a good job with the tiling. I’d give it forty-eight hours before you grout.’
‘I’ve still got the fiddly bits to do. I don’t suppose you have a tile cutter do you?’ Beth winced as she asked. She hated asking but she didn’t really want the extra expense of hiring one and she definitely didn’t want to buy one. She wasn’t planning on a career in renovation after this experience.
‘No, but I know a man who does.’ Jack was turning out to be a useful person to know.
‘Do you know about Guy Fawkes?’ asked Leo but before Jack could reply Leo was already into full gory storytelling mode.
As soon as it got dark, Leo started to panic. If he knelt on his mum’s bedroom windowsill he could catch a glimpse of the village green, depending on which way the wind was blowing the willow. This was where he stayed on watch in case they lit the bonfire early.
In the last couple of days the weather had turned decidedly chillier, so Beth wrapped Leo up in scarf, gloves and coat, but he refused to wear his woolly hat, even though she made a thing of putting on her own. It was a floppy wool beanie and she was quite pleased with it. She’d found it in a shop in Stow-on-the-Wold; it had been cheap but the style seemed to suit her. She remembered the last time she’d worn a much-loved hat and Nick had laughed and shaken his head. After a full-scale row about it, he had cut it up into tiny pieces with the kitchen scissors. They were excellent scissors, she thought, and she wished she hadn’t left them behind.
Despite Leo’s worries, they arrived in time to register their guy for the judging. Leo was incredulous when they asked him the name of the guy. ‘It’s Guy Fawkes, of course!’ They later understood the question when they saw more guys arrive purporting to be various politicians as well as a very good Cruella De Vil, complete with two-tone wig, and a Frankenstein that apparently was a recycled Halloween costume. Beth’s hopes for Leo winning were fading fast.
They went for a wander around, met up with Jack, Doris, and Simon, and Beth bought them all hot dogs as promised. Beth wasn’t sure how many people she had expected to be there but she hadn’t anticipated quite such a crowd. The pub car park had a ‘car park full’ sign up and cars were parked by every available piece of kerb.
Shirley and the wheelie trolley were on duty at the mulled wine stand and it seemed possible that Shirley had been testing the product for some time because she was swaying steadily. Beth left Leo with Jack and Doris while she went to get the mulled wine; they didn’t dare let Doris get too close to Shirley and the trolley.
‘Mittens,’ said Shirley, a fraction before she slowly and quite gracefully turned to face Beth.
‘They’re gloves, actually, but they do the job. Three mulled wines, please.’
‘Crazy lady,’ muttered Shirley with an exaggerated smile as she filled three cups. Beth handed her the money and weaved her way back through the crowd. The others were admiring the towering bonfire, and a full-blown discussion was under way as to whether or not it was as big as the previous year’s. The chatter was interrupted by the arrival of the mulled wine and the adults all warmed their hands on the cups and sipped it appreciatively.
A gathering of WI ladies signalled the imminent announcement of the results of the guy competition and the crowd moved in closer. Leo dashed to the front where he found Denis. Beth excused herself and snuck through after him.
‘That one there is from the pub darts team. I helped make that,’ said Denis, pointing to the most overstuffed of the politicians. Leo pointed his out. The lady who had announced the winners of the cake competition back in the summer stepped forward, wearing the same leather trousers she’d worn for that event though now they were teamed with an extra-long cardigan and a bobble hat.
‘The results of the Dumbleford Guy Competition are … In third place Cruella De Vil by Dumbleford and Henbourne-on-the-Hill Bridge Club.’ A ripple of approval went through the crowd as they applauded and a tall gentleman went forward to collect the rosette.
‘In second place Mr Asquith by Dumbleford WI …’
‘Fix!’ yelled Jack and then looked behind him when the leather-trouser-clad woman glared in his direction. A lady nearby quickly collected the rosette and disappeared into the crowd.
‘And, drumroll, please. The winner is … Guy Fawkes by Leo Browne!’ A beaming Leo, grinning from ear to ear, stepped forward to collect his first-place rosette and box of chocolates while the crowd clapped and Jack whistled loudly. He stepped back under the safety barrier, and Beth pulled him to her in a tight hug.
‘Well done, Leo. I’m so proud of you.’ She had to bite the inside of her mouth to stop herself blubbing proud mum tears.
‘Thanks, Mum. You won it too,’ he said, giving her a brief glimpse of the rosette before he and Denis studied it closely.
‘Well done, mate!’ Jack gave Leo a high five. He looked at Beth and she smiled. Beth glanced over to where Shirley was sitting and she gave Beth a double thumbs-up before swaying and then disappearing behind her stall. The leather-trousered WI lady rushed to her aid and Shirley was soon upright again and still holding her thumbs up. Beth chuckled and returned the gesture. Leo’s was the biggest of the guys; perhaps not the best bu
t it looked as if he had some strong supporters in the village.
They watched as the three chosen guys were all strapped to chairs at the top of the bonfire in a similar style to that of Olympic medallists, with Leo’s first place on the very top and the others each a fraction further down. The remaining guys were dotted around the base. The ladders were removed and the large bald compere from the Bleeding Bear weekly quiz came forward with a long lit baton, and a countdown from ten started as the excitement built up.
Leo and Denis were shouting each number and the crowd all whooped when they reached zero and the bonfire, thankfully, ignited. The crowd was at a safe distance behind a barrier but when the fire took hold, the heat was intense and those near the front, including Beth and Leo, moved further back.
‘Wow, that is some bonfire!’ said Beth, admiring the roaring pile from a more comfortable distance.
‘He’s alight, he’s alight!’ shouted Leo. Beth watched all her hard work become engulfed in flames and quickly blend into the rest of the bonfire. She breathed in the bonfire-scented air. It took her back to her childhood – a childhood that had been far simpler than Leo’s and she felt a pang of guilt for the poor decisions that had led to her and Leo constantly looking over their shoulders in a village miles from home.
Petra appeared and handed Simon and Jack something in a plastic pint tumbler. ‘Dark Winter, it’s a real ale we’ve put on for tonight,’ she explained, and they took them gratefully. She soon returned with drinks and crisps for the boys and two smaller tumblers of wine for her and Beth.
‘Thanks,’ said Beth, taking the drink, ‘How’s it gone tonight?’
‘Really well. I’m leaving the bar staff to it. I’m, how do you say it? Cream crackers?’
‘Nearly. Cream-crackered,’ corrected Beth with a chuckle and they squished their tumblers together in a cheers motion that was decidedly lacking in clink.
‘I’m losing a barmaid tonight. It’s her last night working for me. She started university a few weeks ago and the two don’t mix well together. So it’ll be just me and Chloe and, at busy times, that’s not enough.’
‘Oh,’ said Beth, enjoying the feel of the wine as it chilled and warmed her insides at the same time. She wasn’t sure if that was Petra’s way of making a job offer and, if it was, she was unsure how she felt about it. ‘Are you replacing her?’
‘Definitely. Christmas isn’t far away and we’re fully booked for most of December.’
Beth nodded and bit her lip. ‘Would you consider taking me on?’ she asked. ‘I don’t have any experience but I’m willing to learn.’
Jack stepped forward and butted in. ‘There was that time you worked at the tearoom,’ he said, behind a huge grin. Petra was looking puzzled so Beth nudged him playfully out of the way.
‘Ignore him.’
‘I usually do,’ said Petra. ‘The job’s yours, if you want it.’ They raised their plastic cups in another toast. Beth wasn’t sure what she had let herself in for but she needed the money and a small income was much better than none at all.
Beth and Jack stood together watching the bonfire light up the village green. The light breeze was enough to make the flames swirl up in elaborate patterns before disappearing into the night sky.
‘It’s mesmerizing, isn’t it?’ said Jack, turning to look at Beth for a moment.
‘It is. There’s something magical about fire. I love Bonfire Night.’
‘Me too. Always preferred it to Halloween. My mum used to do jacket potatoes smothered in butter and cheese and wrapped in foil, which we’d eat outside. We’d have them another time on a plate but they never tasted as good as they did outside, watching the bonfire.’
Beth’s eyebrows danced at Jack sharing something personal; this was a first. She felt she should reciprocate. ‘We’d have sausages and my dad would always run outside with the plate shouting, “Look out! Bangers!” and it always made me laugh,’ said Beth.
They both chuckled and then relaxed into an amiable silence. Perhaps it was easier when everyone around you was chatting and providing a background noise? Another person ambled through the packed crowd and Beth and Jack got pushed closer together but neither made a move to step away. In such close proximity to Jack, Beth felt surprisingly at ease and safe.
When the fireworks were announced, Jack made his apologies and took Doris home moments before the first ones went up. Doris hoovered up as many pieces of dropped sausage she could as she was escorted off the green. Beth watched them leave until she was aware that Petra was eyeing her and she looked away, self-consciously adjusting her wool beanie. It was silly really but she felt she wanted to chat more to Jack and a part of her was a little downcast that he’d had to leave early.
It was a classic firework display that produced oohs and ahs from the well-trained crowd who were all huddled together, staring into the cold clear sky. Leo was happy for Beth to hug him while they watched the rockets whizz and bang and the pretty sparkles light up the deep blackberry sky. Things were starting to look up, thought Beth.
Carly and Fergus sat in silence in the pub. Fergus was scrolling through the music on his phone and every so often he’d show a particular album or artist to Carly. She knew how much he missed music and it was hard for her to imagine what it was like to lose something so important to you. The door opened and Nick arrived looking as if he’d stepped out of a magazine; his hair was perfect and his clothes were on trend. He gave a warm confident smile when he spotted them and strode over. Fergus stood up and shook Nick’s hand firmly but was reluctantly pulled into a brief man hug.
‘It’s so good to see you, Fergus.’ Nick spoke at a deliberately steady pace, facing Fergus so that it was easier for him to lip-read. Fergus nodded, his stony face easy to read. Nick bent to kiss Carly lightly on each cheek and gently whispered, ‘I’m so grateful that you came.’
They agreed a drinks order and were soon sitting at a table for four with one empty chair. Carly eyed the empty chair rather than make direct eye contact with Nick as she sipped her drink and waited for the inevitable awkward conversation to start.
‘Thanks for coming. I really appreciate your support,’ said Nick. Carly was about to relay it to Fergus but he was already answering.
‘You don’t have our support, Nick.’ Fergus’s tone was cold. ‘I am here because Carly felt sorry for you.’ His eyes were locked on Nick’s.
Nick’s eye twitched but he hid his reactions well. ‘Fergus, I know how this looks …’
‘And I know how this is.’ Fergus turned to Carly and silently signed. ‘We shouldn’t have come.’
Carly spoke to Nick but signed so that Fergus could stay involved. ‘Nick, Fergus is right, we can’t help you.’
‘It’s okay, really. I do understand, you’re supporting your friend. I would be exactly the same.’ Nick’s voice was downcast and he lowered his gaze until it was on his Diet Coke.
Fergus was still staring at Nick. ‘She should have reported you to the police,’ he said. Carly was feeling more uncomfortable by the second. Fergus was right, they shouldn’t have come. She hadn’t appreciated quite how strongly Fergus felt about the situation but, watching him now, she could see the loathing he had for Nick.
Nick looked up and his expression had changed; he no longer looked dejected. ‘She could still report me if she felt she had something to report. But she hasn’t.’ There was an imperceptible shrug of his shoulders. Carly could feel the tension between the two men. The last thing she wanted was for this to turn into a full-blown row in a public place.
‘If you had any decency, you would leave her alone …’ started Fergus.
Nick began to object on the grounds that he didn’t know where she was but Fergus chose to carry on talking over him. ‘You would stop searching for her, and you would seek help for your condition.’
Nick laughed and shook his head as colour rose in Fergus’s face and Carly leaned forward in case she had to intervene. ‘Okay, mate …’ started Nick.
/> ‘I’m no mate of yours,’ said Fergus, standing up. Nick automatically rose with him. Shit, thought Carly, and she too stood up but felt scarily small next to the two men. There was just the table between them. Fergus had the height advantage but Nick was more muscular and, whilst Carly adored Fergus, she could easily see who would win any physical fight.
‘This was a bad idea. We should leave,’ said Carly. Nick waved them away, shaking his head, his face now stern. They walked to the door and Fergus opened it for Carly to walk through. As she went out into the street she realized he was no longer behind her. She raced back to see Fergus stooping over a now-seated Nick, speaking into his ear whilst a firm hand on his shoulder kept him in his chair. He then turned and walked back to her at the door.
‘What did you say to him?’ asked Carly, but Fergus shook his head and quickened his pace.
It was Sunday so Beth and Leo got the bus to the DIY store and purchased the paint, brushes and trays to decorate the living room. It was almost too heavy to bring back on the bus but somehow, with a little help from some friendly fellow travellers, they managed it. Beth had decided against the stark white she had originally wanted and instead went for a warmer hue, still very much the blank canvas she wanted to create for whoever ended up buying and living in Willow Cottage but more in keeping with its age. Leo helped to cover the floor with newspaper and they set to work.
Sunday went by in a decorating blur that even Leo enjoyed. Just at the point where he was getting bored, Denis arrived and the two went off clutching plastic boxes to explore for blackberries behind the pub garden. Beth took a look around and decided she would pack it in for the day and finish the living room on Monday. It was Sunday and she fancied a proper lunch.
Despite it being late in the season, Leo returned from the blackberry hunt with enough for Beth to incorporate into an apple and blackberry pie. It felt so good to be cooking again. She couldn’t help feeling a little smug when they sat in their new kitchen and tucked into a proper home-cooked meal.
Escape to Willow Cottage Page 15
