Goldhill's Treasure

by Jilly Bowling

  By late afternoon they’d managed to empty the kitchen apart from the basics that they’d need over the next few days and she put the potatoes on to cook and lifted the steaks out of the fridge to relax. As she seasoned them she watched Calum leaning against the table gazing into space. He was miles away and didn’t know she was watching him. Unconsciously he was running his thumb backwards and forwards over his lips, a sensual look in his eyes.

  Sophie frowned; she’d seen that look before, when he first seduced her and her heart turned over. He was thinking about another woman. It must be Carla Blane!

  Unable to stop herself she blurted out “Who are you thinking about?”

  “What?”

  “You have a look on your face that only means one thing. Sex!”

  Calum looked startled “I haven’t, I was thinking about the part.”

  “Is it Xrated then?”

  “No of course not. It’s just a good part. Anyhow the only woman I want to have sex with is you.”

  He held out his hand and when she took it pulled her into his arms. Lowering his head he kissed her expertly and thoroughly, but to Sophie it felt wrong, mechanical and cold. When she stiffened in his arms he pulled back and looked at her. It was the first time, ever, she hadn’t melted into him.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing” she lied “I’m just tired and hungry. I’ll cook the steaks and then I can relax.”

  Disgruntled he set the table and put the salads out. Sophie grilled the steaks and drained the new potatoes, putting a knob of butter on them. Sliding them onto two plates she carried them to the table and they settled down to eat. Calum quizzed her on how the move was going; avoiding talking about the film, and slowly harmony reigned.

  However when they went to bed, by the time Sophie had cleaned her teeth and showered, Calum was on his side turned away from her, fast asleep. Lying down on her side of the bed she turned her back on him and for the first time in their marriage they went to sleep without kissing goodnight.

  Chapter 3

  The next few days passed in a blur. Calum actually got stuck in and helped with the packing and their usual harmony settled over them. At night they fell into bed exhausted and after a quick kiss and cuddle slept like the dead.

  On the day of the move everything went smoothly and late in the morning they let themselves into their new home. The cottage was dusty and bare but had a welcoming feeling. Sophie felt as if she had come home and although she knew they would be roughing it in a small caravan while the house was renovated, was really looking forward to seeing their dream home emerge from the rubble, that would be the inevitable result of the building work. All their furniture, what there was of it, had been put into store and all they had with them were the essentials; a couple of pans, frying pan, crockery, towels and one lot of bedding were in two small boxes, with their clothes in two large suitcases.

  “Well, all we need now is for the caravan to arrive and we’ll be ready for the builders starting tomorrow.” Calum said as they wandered through the five rooms that made up the cottage.

  “Mmm, the contractors have made a good job of widening the pathway. Do you think they’ll have any trouble getting the caravan in place?”

  “No, they’re experts at moving vans, I think they’ll have some kind of crane lorry, and they’ll stop the traffic, what there is of it, while they manoeuvre it into place. I reckon the best thing we can do is keep out of their way.”

  Sophie held out a picnic basket “Shall we have a sandwich and a cuppa while we wait? Then we’ll be ready to go.”

  Calum took the basket off her and smiled “You think of everything. Come on, let’s climb the hill and have a picnic at the top.”

  Hand in hand they climbed the hill behind the house and at the top found a fallen damson tree to sit on while they ate.

  Sighing with pleasure Calum said “It really is well named. Goldhill, I feel as if I’ve struck gold here.”

  As Sophie poured the tea from the flask, she again felt that slight frisson and shivered.

  “What’s up Soph, you alright?”

  “Yes, it’s this place, it feels magical; as if I’ll find complete happiness here!”

  Calum put his arm around her and pulled her close “You old romantic, but I thought you were completely happy already with me!”

  As she nestled into him she said “Of course I am, don’t take any notice of me, it’s just this hill, it sends shivers up my spine.”

  Leaning over to kiss her he said “You soppy old thing.”

  As they finished their sandwiches they saw, in the distance, a large lorry winding its way towards them along the lane. Another lorry with a crane on the back followed close behind.

  “Come on, the van’s here.” Calum leaped up and headed down the hill leaving her to collect the picnic things and follow him.

  Surprisingly the siting of the caravan went very smoothly. The entrance to the property, by the large barn, had been widened and the old shrubs routed out, so the caravan transporter could practically drive right in. The crane lorry turned out to be superfluous as the men just winched the van down the ramp on the transporter right where it was to be positioned. A bit of pushing and heaving and it was on the flat paving stones prepared for it. Gas bottles were attached to the hob in the kitchen area, and as there was already an electricity supply to the barn, a line was easily put into the caravan and Sophie’s temporary home was ready.

  “Let’s go down to the pub for supper” Calum suggested.

  “We’re filthy and I don’t know if the shower is rigged up yet.”

  “Oh for god’s sake we’ve been working, nobody cares what you look like in the country.

  I’m going so it’s up to you whether you come or not.”

  As usual Sophie gave in and went with him, she felt a mess but if Calum didn’t care why should she.

  The local pub, The Crown, was busy, with people dining and drinking. All were cleanly and smartly dressed and when they walked in, all eyes turned towards them, assessed them then turned away. Only for the women’s eyes to swivel back to Calum, then wide eyed recognise him. The bartender looked at them and Calum asked for a table for two, only to be told that they were very busy and there was a half hour wait. Calum frowned not used to having to wait and then the lady owner of the pub spotted him and rushed over.

  “Oh, you’re Calum Livesey, I’ve seen you on TV. I’m Connie, I own this place, did I hear you say you want to eat?”

  “Yes please, we’ve just moved into the cottage on the hill and we’re filthy and starving!”

  “What, Goldhill? We’d heard it had sold but didn’t realise that a film star had bought it.”

  “I’m just a jobbing actor and we intend to gut the place and extend it. If you can feed us I’ll be forever grateful,” he gave the woman his most charming smile and she practically melted at his feet.

  “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll find you a table somehow, just give me a minute.” And she bustled away, still overcome by his charm.

  Sophie, completely ignored, shook her head and waited until he remembered her, as various people came up and introduced themselves. Eventually one, polite, man asked to be introduced to her and Calum turned suddenly remembering her.

  “Oh yes, this is my wife Sophie.”

  The man politely shook hands with her and said “Just moving in, you must be exhausted. Here have my stool until your table’s ready. What would you like to drink?”

  Calum turned “No let me buy you a drink, your usual Soph?”

  “Yes please “she said sitting on the vacated stool.

  Eventually they were found a table and the meal, when it arrived was excellent. Calum bought a lot of drinks for people and many were sent over to their table. At the end of the evening they staggered back to
the caravan, already feeling a part of the local community. Their plans for the cottage had been well discussed and there was a lot of interest in Sophie’s ceramics as well as Calum’s new film.

  Once the women realised that Sophie had no edge to her she was invited to join lots of local societies; the one she was really interested in was the local branch of Riding for the disabled, run on her own farm by a girl called Jenny. Sophie had ridden all her life and had promised to attend a meeting as soon as she could find the time.

  They quickly washed and brushed their teeth and fell into bed. Smaller than a normal double it was a bit of a squeeze for Calum, but then he wouldn’t be there for much longer, so they snuggled together and he made gentle love to her. Usually he took his time, but tonight he was happy to indulge in quick vanilla sex and once again Sophie was left feeling unsatisfied.

  “Still” she thought “he must be as tired as I am.” And she fell asleep with him spooned behind her.

  ***

  The builders arrived bright and early next morning waking them up. Calum groaned as he rolled over “God, how much did we drink last night?”

  Sophie opened one eye and squinted at him “I don’t know, I lost count, too many I think!”

  A large knock on the door rocked the caravan and Calum grabbed his jeans and hauled them on before shouting “Hang on, I’m coming!”

  When he opened the door he was met by a grinning face “Hi I’m Mick, your friendly local builder” the round faced, plump fair haired man said.

  “Hi Mick, give me a second to grab a shirt and I’ll be with you,” Calum said as Sophie hid under the covers.

  Shutting the door firmly behind him he followed Mick up the widened pathway waving to either side as he explained what needed doing first. Sophie struggled out of bed groaning as her stomach and head lurched. Never again! She couldn’t remember what she had drunk the night before but it obviously didn’t agree with her.

  Picking up the kettle she realised that they didn’t have any water in the van so picking up the large water container she followed Calum up the path to the cottage. As she reached the top a large digger trundled off the road, stopped by the caravan and the driver jumped out.

  “Mr Livesey here love!” he shouted.

  “Yes he’s up here, I think he’s in the cottage, come on up.”

  The young man ran up to join her “My god, we got our work cut out here” he grinned.

  “Yes we certainly have!” As she looked around she wondered if they’d bitten off more than they could chew. The architect’s plans had seemed so straightforward but looking at the overgrown mess around her she couldn’t visualise the finished building. Hearing Mick’s booming voice at the back of the cottage she pointed the digger driver in that direction and let herself into the old kitchen. Dated around nineteen fifty it was a hotchpotch of mismatched styles with formica and fablon surfaces. The old stone sink was chipped and dirty and the taps were rusty, but when she turned the cold tap on, fresh water from the spring in the hills above the house flowed out clear and cool.

  She half filled her container and heaved it out of the sink onto the floor, before turning off the tap. Grasping hold of the handle she lifted it with her strong potter’s shoulders and let herself out of the poky room.

  Outside, Calum, Mick and the digger driver were in deep conversation, with the plans stretched out between them.

  “The first thing to do” Mick said “is to make a proper driveway by moving soil from the high side to the low side. Then we’ll need a couple of hundred tons of scalpings, they’ll sink a bit into the soil when it rains and make a firm surface. Are you going to tarmac or gravel it to finish it?”

  “Gravel” Calum said “the architect says that on this hill tarmac will heave and crack up.”

  “He’s right, at least with gravel you can keep topping up. Right Luke, that’s your job for today, get the drive laid out in a nice gentle gradient.”

  Calum pointed to the stone walls on the hill side of the path “I want as many of those rescued as possible to make the retaining wall by the side of the drive.”

  Mick pulled a face “That’ll slow things down a lot. Easier to bury those and get new.”

  Sophie put in “Those stones go back to Seventeen thirteen when Mr. Gold first bought this hill; we really want to keep them.”

  “Is that why it’s called Goldhill then?” Luke asked. “Thought it was because of the wild daffodils in the spring. My kids come up and pick bunches every year.”

  Sophie frowned “Oh well, I expect I’ll be picking bunches to sell to tourists, so your kids can have some as usual.”

  “Mmm, it’s been empty for so long people have just helped themselves. Don’t see such old cultivars anywhere else around here.”

  “No, I understand from my research into the place that they are pretty special. We can only cut the field at the top after they’ve seeded or they’ll die out.” Sophie said while thinking ‘they’re not going to be happy with electric gates at the bottom of the drive’.

  The plan was that the turning by the barn would be open to the public but the drive up to the house would have double electric gates across them. Not just for the locals, but because the press might become intrusive if Calum’s film took off.

  Lugging the container back to the caravan she set to making breakfast. She’d put a load of bacon in the small fridge, along with eggs, and she made bacon and egg butties for all the builders. A large pot of tea, some of her own hand made mugs and she popped her head out of the door and yelled “Grub’s up.”

  Calum led the rush down the hill as builders emerged from everywhere. Good job she’d been prepared as there was a dozen of them. As they stood around chomping on their butties and drinking builder’s tea, Calum slapped her on the back and whispered “Good thinking Soph, butter them up and we’ll get more work out of them!”

  Once they’d finished eating, the men set to with a will and by the evening a flat gently sloping drive led from the barn, up to the cottage. Sophie’s precious stones were in a huge pile at one side of a large turning point in front of the building, and Mick and the architect were examining the back wall of the cottage, where the hill had run into one end of it. They’d dug boreholes and were satisfied that it could be moved safely, as it was only loose soil that had moved; so once the ballast was laid more machines could be brought up the drive to excavate the back of the old kitchen.

  One gang of men had started gutting the inside of the cottage, and Sophie had started to feel as if it wasn’t such an impossible task as she had thought that morning. Calum had got stuck in moving stones and wheeling wheelbarrows, and had formed a matey bond with the builder’s lads. He’d declared it was a better workout, to get in shape for the film, than a training session.

  A plumber had fixed a temporary water supply to the caravan, so once alone they had a shower, Sophie cooked a Thai stir fry and they curled up in front of the small television they’d installed in the van.

  Chapter 4

  Over the next few weeks the building work progressed at a reasonable rate. The drive was laid, with only the final layer of coloured gravel to be laid once the building work was finished. The hill at the back of the cottage had been excavated and new footings put in for the kitchen. The bedrooms and lounge extensions at either side of the old building were slowly taking place, and once the roof was on Mick and his team would knock through the old walls into them.

  At the moment there was nothing Sophie could do, on the building site, so she had concentrated on her barn studio. New plasterboard walls had been built inside the existing wooden ones; the plaster was drying and would soon be ready for painting. A large, second hand butlers sink and work benches waited in the centre of the barn, ready to be put into place once the walls were decorated. She had decided on a pale terracotta paint, as she mostly used terracotta earthenware
clay for her indoor pots.

  One end of the barn would be the sales area, and the back end would be her workshop. On the back wall of the barn an old obelisk stood, obviously very old, and when asked if she wanted it moved she said no, she’d leave it there where it had stood perhaps for centuries. Luckily there were large windows along the roadside and far end of the barn, but she was having two large skylights put in the roof to optimise the light. As she stood watching the installers cut out the positions for the skylights, a car pulled in, in front of her, and a young woman got out and said “Hi I’m Sarah, I live next door.”

  Sophie smiled, next door was a quarter of a mile away. “Hello, nice to meet you, I’m Sophie. Can I offer you a drink?”

  “A drink would be lovely” Sarah grinned “but I’ll have to make do with a cup of tea, I’m supposed to be working!”

  Grinning Sophie indicated the caravan “Come on in to my luxurious abode.”

  As she made the tea Sarah chatted about herself and her husband Aidan. They had two teenage boys and had turned their large house, three cottages knocked into one, into a gourmet restaurant. When Sophie told her about herself, her pottery and her husband, Calum, explaining that he was away at the moment, Sarah asked “Aren’t you nervous here by yourself?”

  “No, I’m used to spending time alone. I haven’t got a nervous disposition and can look after myself. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh well” Sarah hesitated “There’s just this silly rumour that the hill is haunted. Strange noises heard and things like that.”

  “Ha,” Sophie laughed “we haven’t heard anything strange, I don’t believe in ghosts etc and all old places make funny noises. Some of the trees in the wood above us are so old they keep losing branches, and the badgers have a set up there. They grunt and groan every night.”

  “Well you know, I’ll give you our phone number, one of us is usually around. Just give us a ring if you’re worried about anything.”

  “That’s so kind of you, maybe when Calum’s home we can get together for a drink?”