Sunshine Over Wildflower Cottage

by Milly Johnson

  Geraldine was quiet that day. She said she hadn’t slept very well and spent hours in the stables, scrubbing them out thoroughly. Stel used to clean things when she had stuff on her mind, thought Viv. It was as if she were trying to scrub away what was gnawing at her by mopping and brushing and blasting things with bleach. She’d done it a lot when she’d been ill, at least when she’d had the energy.

  Viv hadn’t seen Heath all day, but that was no great hardship. She didn’t stop for lunch until nearly three o’clock. She made some cheese and onion sandwiches for herself and Geraldine, who hadn’t had a break either. They were both ready for something to eat by then.

  ‘What a treat,’ said Geraldine, flopping into one of the chairs around the dining table after she had given her hands a thorough rinse at the sink.

  ‘It’s just a sandwich,’ said Viv.

  ‘Ah, but they always taste so much nicer when someone else has made them,’ replied Geraldine, savouring her first mouthful as if it were a creation conjured up by Raymond Blanc.

  ‘You must be tired,’ said Viv.

  ‘Good. I’ll sleep tonight then,’ Geraldine answered her. ‘There’s nothing like a bit of stable-clearing for wearing you out.’

  ‘I’m mentally exhausted today,’ smiled Viv. ‘The accounts will take me an age to get in order.’

  Geraldine grimaced. ‘I hate doing those and I’m hopeless at them. As you can probably tell.’

  Viv broke off a corner of her sandwich, taking care to strip out the onion, and gave it to Pilot who was sitting hopefully at her side. He took it from her so very gently.

  ‘Where’s Mr Merlo?’ said Viv. ‘Shouldn’t he be helping you?’ Or me, she added silently. Was he the skiving type?

  Geraldine answered as if she could hear what Viv was thinking.

  ‘If you think that Heath is out enjoying himself whilst we are slaving away here, let me tell you that no one works harder than he does. He’s been up since the crack of dawn helping one of the farmers up Mawton way. They’ve been very good to us, sending supplies for the animals, and Heath will always repay a favour.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Viv. She wasn’t too hard on herself for thinking he was lax though. It would have explained why things were in such a mess.

  ‘What are you going to do with yourself this weekend then?’ asked Geraldine.

  ‘I’m going to drive back tonight to . . . er . . . Sheffield and see my mum,’ said Viv.

  ‘Well, you get yourself off now in that case,’ said Geraldine. ‘You’ve worked like a Trojan all week.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ The idea that she could be sitting back on her mum’s sofa in less than two hours sounded wonderful to Viv.

  ‘I’m positive,’ replied Geraldine. ‘Heath will be home soon enough and I’m just about done for the day myself.’

  Viv grinned. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’

  ‘It’s your weekend,’ said Geraldine. ‘You spend it where you want, duck.’

  Viv didn’t say that a flying visit would suffice because there were urgent things she had to do and people she had to see and all of them were in Ironmist. But tonight she very badly wanted to go home and visit her mum and her cuddly ginger cat. She needed to slip back into her old familiar world again before it all changed for good.

  Chapter 20

  Stel opened the door to her daughter as if she hadn’t seen her for a hundred years. She dragged her over the threshold pelting her with questions about her new life at Wildflower Cottage. Basil jumped on Viv’s knee as soon as she sat on the sofa and dribbled as he purred and rubbed himself against her cheek and made her face wet and slobbery and Viv thought it was heaven. It would have been easy not to go back and if she hadn’t left all her things there, she might not have done.

  ‘Why did you run off then, eh?’ Viv asked the cat, stroking his back as he settled down. He’d lost weight. His spine felt knobbly underneath his fur.

  ‘I just can’t understand it,’ said Stel, handing her daughter a cup of coffee. ‘I think he must have taken a wrong turn, lost his bearings and set off in completely the wrong direction. I could have married Ian when he found him.’

  ‘Yes, well, don’t,’ tutted Viv, making Stel laugh.

  ‘I promise I won’t.’

  ‘So he’s nice, is he?’ quizzed Viv. ‘This Ian?’

  ‘Very,’ replied Stel. ‘He’s a gardener at the hospice. And a really good one as well. He’s made an amazing water feature. Very good with his hands.’ Then she giggled and Viv heard herself thinking, Here we go again. She knew her mother was on course to fall hook, line and sinker after half a film and a bag of popcorn.

  ‘Anyway, never mind about me, tell me all about your job. No, let’s order a Chinese first and you can fill me in whilst we’re eating. I’ve got a bottle of Champagne in to celebrate. Well, it’s Prosecco really but we can pretend, can’t we?’

  So, over sweet and sour king prawn, mother and daughter chatted and laughed and drank fizz and tried to pretend they were brave grown-ups and Stel didn’t say that she wished Viv would stay home and not go back and Viv didn’t say that part of her wished she had never taken the job because it might alter their relationship for ever.

  Chapter 21

  Stel waved goodbye to Viv at ten the next morning. Storms were forecast at lunchtime and so Viv had driven off earlier than she’d originally intended to in order to avoid them. Once Stel was alone, she had nothing to stop her nerves about her impending date with Ian Robson hijacking her brain. She hadn’t a clue how she was going to fill the time between now and seven o’clock. There was no cleaning to do, no ironing. It was too miserable weather-wise to walk around town and Meadowhall was always uncomfortably busy on a Saturday. She tried to read the newly delivered paper but it was no good, she needed to speak to someone and Caro was the first friend who came to mind.

  ‘Morning,’ said Caro, seeing Stel’s name come up on her mobile.

  ‘Am I disturbing you? Are you with clients?’

  ‘Nope. I’m having a day off. That’s the joy of being the boss. Why, are you all right?’

  ‘No. I’ve agreed to go out with that bloke at work tonight and I’m bloody petrified,’ replied Stel.

  At the other end of the phone, Caro raised her perfect brace of eyebrows.

  ‘Well, that’s a surprise. I thought you didn’t fancy him. Not at all, you said. What’s changed in such a short time?’

  ‘He found Basil,’ replied Stel. ‘He went to a lot of trouble for me. It was as if I saw him with different eyes.’

  Caro stopped herself quipping that if Ian had had different eyes she might have fancied him a bit sooner. Stel had told them all that the gardener at work had a soft spot for her but that he had eyes she couldn’t take to.

  ‘Well, that’s great and I can’t wait to hear all about it tomorrow.’

  ‘You don’t fancy a coffee, do you?’ asked Stel. ‘It’s okay if you don’t. I just feel a bit lost this morning and my nerves are in shreds.’

  ‘Do you want to meet me at two o’clock for a coffee up at Well Life? They’ve just refurbished the café and apparently it’s gorgeous.’

  ‘You’re an absolute star,’ said Stel, mentally clapping her hands together in delight. ‘Are you sure though?’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Caro said. It was obvious Stel needed some company and after all the times Stel had been there for her, she wouldn’t have turned her down. ‘I’ll see you up there.’

  *

  Viv was back in the folly by twelve-thirty. There was a lot of fog on the M62 and an accident had caused a further hold-up. It was a very long, miserable journey. She couldn’t believe that only three hours ago she had been hugging her mum and snuggling her big purring cushion of a cat. They both felt so very far away.

  She made herself a coffee and stood at the folly window looking at the storm clouds advancing across the vast expanse of sky overhead, swallowing up any traces of white. The cottage lights were on and she could see Geraldine standing at the
sink talking to someone Viv couldn’t see. It could have been Heath but was just as likely to be one of the house animals, because Geraldine talked to them all the time. Beyond the cottage was the garden where the bones of the departed animals lay. They were all at peace now and some digger was going to plough up their final resting place. Viv was as yet undecided whether or not she believed in an afterlife. Old buried bones felt no pain, that she did know. But it still felt such a shame that they’d be scooped out and disposed of like rubbish rather than loved in the ground here.

  The mist was thin today, like spider threads weaving through the blades of long grass. Viv tried to imagine what it would be like looking out of the window and seeing houses everywhere. The view of the sun and hill would be the same but the silence would be gone. And the quiet, the calm, was as much a part of this place as the mists and the wildflowers.

  Viv, what has all this to do with you? Some reprimanding part of her was wagging its finger at her. She couldn’t afford to let sentiment get in the way of what she had to do here.

  Hugo had been insistent that being in Ironmist would be to her advantage. Her chance to get an influential business patron on board. She daren’t tell him that she had thrown a bucket of dirty water over that potential patron and his daughter.

  She felt blessed by the ability she had to replicate scents. Maybe she should have been more ambitious because Hugo constantly nagged her to contact one of the famous perfume houses, and was frustrated by her insistence that she had no wish to join a huge conglomerate. Hugo was a rising star in the London laboratory where he worked. They had stayed good friends; in fact, if Hugo hadn’t been gay, he was convinced that they’d have made an amazing dynamic couple. Posh and Becks with test-tubes.

  Today presented the perfect opportunity to fulfil the brief for the essence of a summer rainstorm that a major client had requested. And it would keep her thoughts occupied. The windiest, wettest area would be up by Ironmist Castle, she reckoned. So, with her walking boots and old quilted jacket on and her notepad and pen in her pocket she set off to explore. Viv didn’t mind the rain. When she was little, on many a rainy day, she and Stel had donned their wellingtons and waterproof coats and splashed in mud. As she grew up, Viv realised it was her mother’s way of venting frustration at the men in her life. It saved breaking her fists against a wall.

  The main road through Ironmist was deserted except for an old man carrying a paper under his arm and walking a small terrier that was wearing a snug blue coat. He nodded at Viv and she replied with a good morning. When she reached the top of the hill where the breezes blew unhindered, Viv raised her head and inhaled deeply. The wind had picked up the scents of the nearby forest, the last of the May bluebells, the first of the summer flowers from local gardens, a hint of clean linen as if someone’s forgotten washing was flapping about on a line. Yes, Viv could put this together in her little makeshift laboratory in the kitchen corner of the folly. As the wind changed direction, she detected something else that wouldn’t feature in the mix though: the smell of stables; horses, hay, sweet feed, a middle note of earthy manure. Viv turned and headed towards it, hood up, braced against the gusts. Above, the clouds seemed to be blackening by the second. Light flashed, viciously bright against the sooty sky and immediately after, thunder grumbled. Viv knew that a hilltop was not the most sensible place to be when lightning was on the prowl for a place to earth itself. She would be wise to find some sort of cover. She could either go left and stand under a tree – not the best idea, she thought – or head right past Ironmist Castle where any passing lightning might find something of interest to play with rather than her.

  She hurried past the massive closed gates to Ironmist Castle and as the wind dropped for a second, she again picked up the scent of horses – but stronger now – by a path between two hedges. The ground was studded with hoof prints leading in both directions and she figured that this must lead to the stables within the grounds. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a jagged spear of lightning fork above her head and that made her legs move even quicker down the bridle path. She hoped she wouldn’t bump into one of the Leightons on their horses, but at least the weather made it less likely that they’d be riding today.

  The rain started to whoosh down; fat drops that fell faster and faster as if racing against each other. Viv was drenched in seconds. The gate at the end of the path was locked, but it was low enough to climb over, especially for someone like Viv who was as fit as a flea. Her mum had encouraged her to exercise and be strong in order to cope with all the operations she’d faced in her life. Viv was on the other side of it in no time – on Leighton land. She half expected an alarm to go off and a floodlight to pick her out in all her trespassing glory, but nothing happened.

  The stable block was huge and immaculately maintained. All the wood of the frontage had been recently re-stained by the look of it and the metalwork touched up with shiny black paint. It was evident that the Leighton horses were kept in the lap of luxury. There were four of them, if the number of boxes was anything to go by, but only one was poking its head out over the top of the split doors – a tall chestnut with a long fine head checking out the weather. It nodded at Viv as if greeting her, then blew through its nostrils as if it had taken the salutation back.

  Another show of lightning and thunder, so loud that Viv felt it shudder through her. Her hair was plastered to her face despite her hood and her clothes were stuck to her skin. She had never felt as soggy in her life. She huddled under a canopy that jutted above a side door and shook her limbs like a dog. She noticed a security camera above her head but luckily it was trained in the wrong direction to pick her up. She watched the raindrops hit the ground with such force that they bounced upwards as high as her knee and knew she would have to wait it out before attempting to go back to the folly. The canopy didn’t afford much shelter as the wind was driving the rain against her. She twisted the handle of the door behind her not expecting it to be unlocked, but it was. Viv opened it tentatively in case all the horses came thundering towards her, but they were enclosed in their own individual boxes. She shut the door behind her and looked around at all the tack, the blankets stored on shelves, the bright rosettes hanging on the walls. Beside the rosettes there were four rustic wooden signs, each one bearing a name scrolled in elaborate pokerwork. Octavia, Antonia, Victoria, Nicholas. And below each hung a hat and a crop. The whole Leighton family.

  Chapter 22

  Stel arrived twenty minutes early at the Well Life Supergym in Dodley because she was sick of walking around the house like a caged tiger not knowing what to do with herself. But she picked up a newspaper and sat in the lovely new café waiting in comfort while the minutes ticked by.

  Caro arrived at ten to two looking preened and perfect as always, even though she was only wearing jeans and a long white shirt. She mouthed over to Stel that she’d get the coffees. When she arrived at the table with them, Stel was jittery and apologetic.

  ‘I came early or I’d have got the drinks,’ said Stel. ‘I didn’t want them to get cold though.’

  ‘It’s only a coffee, Stel. I haven’t bought you a fillet steak,’ tutted Caro with a smile. ‘If it makes you feel any better, you can get the next one.’

  ‘I will. Thanks for meeting me. I’m just a bit anxious about tonight. I’ve worn a groove in the carpet walking up and down it.’

  Caro slapped Stel’s hand which was hovering near her mouth. ‘Don’t bite your nails,’ she said. ‘How long is it since your last date?’

  ‘A year and a half,’ Stel replied. ‘It was that bloke who sold used cars, do you remember?’

  ‘Was that the one with the really long nasal hairs?’

  ‘No. There was Nasal Hair, then the one who got really nasty when I said I didn’t bother voting, then the used-car salesman. He was the one who started crying in the pub.’

  Caro clicked her fingers in recollection. ‘The one who’d only split up from his wife a few days before.’

  �
�That’s the one. Total disaster. I swore after that I’d stay single. Bloody internet dating. I never met anyone decent on that site.’

  Caro shuddered. She was so glad she was happily married and had never had to go down the route of signing up to Matchmaker.com.

  ‘But you’ve changed your mind?’ Caro studied Stel’s expression. She looked absolutely terrified.

  ‘Yes, Caro, but I don’t know why.’ Stel lifted her hands up as if she hoped the answer would drop into them from high. ‘Scrap that, yes I do know why. Gratitude. I opened my mouth without thinking. So no change there then.’

  ‘Oh, Stel.’ Caro smiled at her. ‘Then text him and make some excuse.’

  ‘I haven’t got his number.’

  ‘Oh hell.’

  ‘No, I’ll go,’ said Stel. ‘I said I would. And he is nice. And kind. I’m just nervous. I tell you, I’m too old for this dating lark. It’s too stressful.’

  ‘How’s Basil?’ asked Caro, changing the subject for a minute before Stel worked herself up into even more of a state.

  ‘Put it this way, I’ve had to fetch his old litter tray from the garage because he won’t go out at all now.’

  ‘Poor boy, he must have frightened himself to death getting lost.’

  ‘I know. I was so relieved that Ian found him. He’d been out for ages looking for him. He was scratched almost to death picking Basil up as well. His arms were a right old mess.’

  ‘Well, you always wanted a knight in shining armour, didn’t you? Let’s hope this time you’ve found yourself a good one.’