Goldhill's Treasure

by Jilly Bowling

  “Yes I’d like that. Now I must dash, we have a full restaurant tonight and I’ve loads of prep to do.” Sarah stood up and went to the door, “don’t forget, anything you need, give us a ring.”

  Waving goodbye Sophie thought ‘how nice, I think we could be friends’.

  Once the skylights were in place she left the installers to finish off and went up the hill to find Mick. He was at the back of the cottage supervising the laying of the concrete pad that the kitchen would sit on. The red clay of the hillside rose above them and Mick was holding the plans for the retaining wall. “Everything going OK?” she asked.

  “Yeah, but we need to dig back a little bit further so there’s a good gap along the back of the kitchen. Don’t want the hill resting against the new wall as it did with the old one. About two feet should do it, but I think we’ll do it gently by hand as we don’t want to bring too much down. Once the footings and pad are dry we’ll get onto it.”

  “Great, it’s amazing how quickly the bedrooms and lounge are taking shape.”

  “Another couple of days, the roof will be on and we’ll knock through. Those recycled slates you got are a perfect match for the original roof so you won’t be able to see the join. It’s lucky that both ends of the cottage were peaked, makes it easier to extend.”

  “Mmm” Sophie said gazing up, “that’s what the architect said when he drew up the plans.”

  “I tell you what; he’s one of the best I’ve worked with. He doesn’t just know the theory but the practical side too.” It wasn’t often Mick sang anyone’s praises so Sophie was pleased.

  “Yes, he worked with his Dad’s building company for a while after he graduated so he’s a builder as well as an architect. He came highly recommended.”

  “I’ll definitely recommend him in future; I’ve never had a build go so well. Oh, by the way, don’t go into the cottage, the dry rot and beetles are being treated. Don’t want you gassed!”

  Sophie laughed “I won’t. Right I’m going to see how they’re getting on with the skylights, See you later.”

  Back at the barn the skylights were installed and sealed and the men were clearing up.

  “What do you want doing with these slates, love?” one of them asked, “shall we put them in the skip?”

  “Are they whole?”

  “Yes, only one or two got broken, they came off easy.”

  “Then stack the good ones to one side and put the broken ones and rubbish in the skip. Never know when an old slate might come in useful!”

  Once everything was tidied up the men left and Sophie went into the barn to plan where everything would go. She’d already drawn up a rough plan of her ideas and she studied it wondering if she had got it right or needed to make some changes. As she leaned against a work bench, her mind, as it had done many times recently, moved onto thoughts of Calum.

  At the beginning of the renovations he had seemed like his old self, getting stuck in with the physical work, and when they both had the energy making love to her. Once again she had felt secure in his love and had chided herself for doubting him. However when he’d had to keep returning to London, he’d started to drift away again. She had put it down to the strain of his first big break. This film could make him into an A list star and he couldn’t afford to drop the ball. She understood that, but in the past, when he was stressed, he had turned to her for sex, using it to relieve his tension. Now when he was home, which seemed to be less and less, he was distant and claimed to be too tired, too uncomfortable in the caravan, and on one hurtful occasion had questioned why she wasn’t as ‘groomed’ as he liked. Sophie had exploded at that and they’d had their first real fight; her telling him that she was, as usual, shouldering most of the work, and him shouting that she was trying to ruin his career. He had gone off to London before they had resolved their problems, and she was actually dreading his return.

  He was due home the next afternoon so she had booked herself into a beauty parlour in Worcester to have the ‘full treatment’. She knew she couldn’t do much about her hands and nails, she kept forgetting to put on gloves, but her hair, skin and bikini line would benefit from some pampering. It was impossible in the small shower in the caravan to do much more than wash the grime away, and the rest of the van wasn’t really all that private. Mick tended to bang on the door and walk in, now that he considered her a friend as well as employer.

  She would really have liked to start painting the barn tomorrow, but sighing she decided that her marriage was more important, so she reluctantly let herself out and went into the caravan to give it a clean before Calum came home.

  That evening, once the builders had gone, she was sitting on the step of the caravan drinking a cup of tea and watching dusk settle over the hill and wood above her, when she thought she heard shouts and then she smelled smoke, like barbecued meat, from the top of the hill. Nobody should be up there, the nearest house was at least a mile away, over the hill, and the couple who lived there were old and led a quiet life.

  Standing up she decided to walk up and take a look, then she hesitated, it could be poachers or badger diggers, and they wouldn’t be happy if she disturbed them. But it was her land and she wouldn’t let them get away with it! She squared her shoulders, locked the caravan and finding a strong stick made her way up the hill.

  The smell of the smoke was becoming unpleasant, like burned pork, but she couldn’t make out where it was coming from. When she got to the top of the hill the noise had gone but the smell of the smoke seemed to be seeping out of the ground. Kneeling down she sniffed the grass, yes it definitely smelled smokey. How strange, surely the hill wasn’t on fire?

  Standing up she turned around only to gaze in admiration at the beautiful scene in front of her. The sun was setting over the Malvern Hills, the sky glowing pink and red, foretelling another lovely day tomorrow. The river shone as it made its meandering way towards Powick, and the lines of the hop fields glinted in the sun’s fading glow. She sat down and just watched as it finally sank behind the hills. What a beautiful place, calm, serene with no human life to be seen anywhere.

  Then she shivered as she heard a man’s fading laughter. It affected her whole body sending that strange feeling right to her core. Who was there? Jumping up she shouted “Who’s there? You are trespassing!”

  There was no reply but she thought she heard the sound of metal on leather and the gentle neigh of a horse. Of course! It was the ponies on the neighbouring property, sound carried strangely at this time of night, and it was easy to imagine things, what with the low light and whispering of the trees and creatures in the wood. Laughing at herself she descended the hill and let herself into the caravan. Locking the door behind her she turned on the TV and settled down for the night.

  ***

  869 A.D.

  Eirik mounted his horse, settling his sword into the scabbard on his saddle, laughing as Leif said “There are plenty of females living in Weorgorancestre. Maybe you’ll find something to hump that will please your lordship!”

  His horse nickered softly as he urged it into a trot, for some strange reason he felt sad to leave this place. It couldn’t be the pagan surely? She had meant nothing to him, just a female to keep him warm at night.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning Sophie was up early. She had decided to at least start painting, before she went into town, so at six am she had a quick cup of tea and some cereal and wrapping her head in a scarf went into the barn.

  By the time the builders arrived at seven she’d painted one wall and started on another and was pleased with how it was looking. Just right for a studio. Mick popped his head in the door and said “You must have started early. Couldn’t sleep?”

  “No actually I slept like a log and woke up feeling full of energy so decided to get cracking. I’ll crack on and make you a cuppa and a butty at about nine thirty. OK?”
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  “Yes, that’d be great, your bacon butties are the best,” he grinned as he went out to give his lads their orders for the day.

  By nine thirty Sophie only had one wall to do so wrapping her roller in a plastic bag she went to the van to make the butties. She was covered in paint but felt really satisfied. Things were coming together at last.

  Scrubbing her hands she looked ruefully at her nails. The beauty parlour would be horrified. Who cared! She was a potter and she defied anyone who potted to have long nails, they just marked the pots. If she had to go anywhere ‘posh’ with Calum she’d just have to wear false ones. He’d never minded her short nails, laughingly saying that at least she didn’t mark him in the throes of passion. Smiling to herself she imagined being in his arms that evening and she was humming to herself as she cooked the bacon.

  Once the men were fed and happy, she quickly ate her own sandwich and after clearing up she hurried back into the barn. Her beauty appointment was for twelve thirty, she’d just have time to finish the painting, shower and dash into town.

  At five to twelve she stood in the middle of the barn gazing around in satisfaction. Not bad for a first coat; it would be dry by tomorrow, she’d get the second coat on and the work area would be finished. She’d give the kiln installers a ring and arrange for it to be delivered in three days, then she could start potting again. The studios in London and Hampshire had been patient but were now agitating for another delivery. She might be able to get some small pots to them in a couple of weeks, all being well.

  After a quick shower she jumped into the car and sped into Worcester. Parking in the high rise she ran along the shambles to the beauty parlour. It was fairly new and had everything a woman needed to stay looking good.

  To start with she lay in a warm bubble bath; her skin was exfoliated and massaged with oils and her poor hands were tutted over and covered with cream and moisture retaining gloves. Then she was submitted to the painful embarrassing process of waxing. She hated it but Calum liked her smooth so she suffered in silence. Her hair was treated with hot oil and a face pack was slapped on. Left sitting in front of a mirror her face covered in green gunk, her hair wrapped in a large towel and her hands encased in thick white gloves she pondered on how Calum would be when he got home.

  At last her hair was washed, trimmed and blow dried, the face mask was removed and her face was creamed and made up. The last things to be done were her hands, but she refused the false nails, just opting for a tidy up; she still had painting and building work to do. She had to admit that she looked and felt better and as she hurried back to the car she hoped Calum would appreciate all the effort.

  By the time she got back to the cottage Mick and his men were clearing up, ready to leave for the day, and as she got out of the car she was met with appreciative wolf whistles.

  “Got a hot date tonight, love?” Sam one of the bricklayers asked.

  Sophie laughed “Yes, with my husband.”

  “Lucky man” Sam grinned “wish my missus went to that much trouble for me!”

  “That’ll do, come on get in the van or you’ll be late home and your dinner’ll be in the dog.” Mick quipped.

  “See you tomorrow love, Calum’s home is he. I’ll try not to wake you too early!”

  Then with cheeky comments to each other the lads piled into two vans and off they went. It was nearly five o’clock and Calum’s train would have arrived in Worcester. He’d be home in half an hour, so Sophie quickly changed into a clean tee shirt and denim cut offs and set about preparing their evening meal. She’d bought an uncooked steak and kidney pie from the butchers in Knightwick so all she had to do was put it in their tiny oven; small new potatoes, just washed and in their skins, peas and carrots and a homemade meal would be ready in an hour. Opening a bottle of a good red wine Aidan, next door, had given her; she dashed around plumping up cushions, trying to make the van look welcoming.

  She’d just put the pie in the oven when she heard a car drive in and stop, so she flung open the door and jumped out ready to give Calum a big hug. He was paying the taxi driver and she waited impatiently for him to turn round. When he did she flung her arms around him, lifting her mouth for a kiss.

  “Steady on Soph. Let me get my breath, I’ve had a hellish journey, hardly any sleep for days and my back hurts” he moaned not even looking at her. She stood back as he hauled his bag into the van, then followed him in.

  “God, I’d forgotten how depressing this place is!” he sighed “still hopefully not for much longer, eh?”

  All Sophie’s excitement at having him home receded and she crossed her arms and just looked at him.

  “How’s the building going? I’ve only got three days at home and then we’re off to Spain. We start shooting next week. I tell you I’m exhausted, they’ve had me practising fight scenes on foot and on horseback with an enormous bloody Viking type, until I’m black and blue; good job we’ve got a physio and masseuse on hand. You don’t know how lucky you are just sitting around here watching the builders!”

  Sophie looked at him open mouthed. Watching the builders indeed! She’d been hacking back the overgrown hill, carrying heavy loads of timber and branches down to the shredder; shredding them and putting the debris onto a compost heap to rot down. Not to mention painting the barn, feeding and making endless cups of tea for Mick and his men, as well as living in the cramped conditions in the van.

  ‘Don’t react’ she told herself ‘he’s just tired and he’ll be better later.’

  “I’ve got steak and kidney pie for dinner and a nice bottle of wine. It’ll be about an hour” she said.

  “Right, I need a shower then I’ll have a lie down until the food’s ready” he said. Leaving his bag on the floor he went into the bedroom as she gazed non plus at him, feeling like the maid.

  The evening went from bad to worse, although the pie was delicious Calum picked at it, pushing it away unfinished. He didn’t like the wine, saying it was corked, then as Sophie cleared away and washed up he fell asleep in front of the television.

  He hadn’t noticed the effort she had put in to look nice for him and give him a tasty home cooked meal, and when he finally woke up and went to bed he complained about the roughness of her hands as she touched him and told her to get a ‘Brazilian’ next time she waxed!

  Turning her back on him after another, for her, unsatisfying quick fuck, she struggled to keep the tears from flowing. At that moment she hated him and all the little ‘hurts’ that she had brushed off over the last few years came to the forefront of her mind. Falling into a disturbed restless sleep she thought she heard laughter once again from the top of the hill.

  ***

  The next morning Sophie once again woke early, had a quick cup of tea and leaving Calum asleep went out to the barn. She tied her hair back into a pony tail and covered it with a scarf then she set to on the second coat of paint.

  Mick and his men turned up at their usual time and he expressed surprise that she was up so early, now that Calum was home.

  “He’s very tired so I think it’s best to leave him to sleep” she murmured “I’m afraid that the bacon butties will have to wait until he wakes up.”

  Mick gave her a look, then changed his mind and shook his head. “No worries love, I’ve told you that you don’t have to do that every day.”

  “I don’t mind, it keeps the lads happy and they don’t disappear to the pub for lunch.”

  Mick laughed “You understand them so well, love. See you later,” and he went out of the barn calling his men to go up the drive and start work.

  Sophie painted steadily until twelve o’clock, pushing unhappiness down with hard work. The barn was now completely painted and ready for the equipment to be put in place. Maybe Calum would help her now that he’d had a good rest? Feeling happier she washed her equipment in a bucket and laid it out to
dry, then she went into the van to make lunch. Making a cup of tea she carried it through to the bedroom, where Calum was sprawled out on the bed, mouth open and snoring.

  “Phew! Smells like a French brewery in here” she muttered as she leaned across him to open the window.

  Grabbing her in his arms, still half asleep he groaned “Carla, not again for god’s sake!”

  Sophie reared back, pulling away from him sharply and causing him to wake up properly.

  “Uh, what? Oh Soph! What’s up?”

  “I just brought you a cup of tea” she muttered backing away from him.

  Back in the kitchen she collapsed onto a stool. He’d called her Carla, and what did he mean by not again? Slapping bacon under the grill she moved automatically, getting out the bread and buttering it. He’d been unfaithful to her! With Carla Blaine. While she was slaving away on his cottage.

  Once the bacon sandwiches were ready she decided to carry them up the drive to where the men were working. She needed to speak to Calum and wanted to do it in private. The men knew that she wasn’t her usual self so just took the butties and tea without comment and let her leave them to it. Back in the van she set the table and waited for him to appear. She heard the shower running again so he must have realised that he smelled dreadful. Standing up she went out of the caravan to the little herb bed she had planted, herbs and homeopathy were another interest of hers, and picked some parsley. That would get rid of the stale odour of garlic and booze oozing out of his pores.

  Washing the parsley leaves she lay them on his plate, which she’d put there ready for a fresh bacon sandwich, and sipped her tea, deep in thought. How should she handle this? She had never suspected him of being unfaithful; he’d always seemed to be happy with her and their sex life. Had she been wrong or was this the first time? Maybe there was a simple answer to what he had said!

  When he appeared in the doorway he still looked bleary eyed and pale, and was looking at her sheepishly.