by Emma Davies
‘Guilt?’ He smiled.
She was quiet for a moment. ‘So, what do we do now?’ she asked eventually. ‘We seem to have reached something of an impasse.’
‘Start over?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘There doesn’t seem to be any other course of action. Might I remind you that you’ve just crushed the front half of your car. I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere fast.’
She stared at him, horrified, the truth of her situation dawning. ‘Will it take long to be fixed, do you think?’
He shrugged. ‘I have absolutely no idea, but until it is it would make sense to at least try to get along. And I could use your help. There’s a lot to do here.’
‘But you hate my ideas—’
‘I don’t,’ he quickly protested. ‘They’re not right for Joy’s Acre, but as ideas go I thought they were very well thought out.’
Maddie still wasn’t sure she understood.
‘But this morning you told me how you want to restore this place to its former glory, and then made me go through the whole rigmarole of telling you my ideas, even though you knew you weren’t going to like what I had to say; in fact, you dismissed them just minutes later. Why bother?’
His expression was thoughtful. ‘Because I wanted to see what you were made of – how convincing you could be when selling your ideas. That is, after all, what you’re going to be doing here, isn’t it? It doesn’t much matter what this place ends up like if you can’t string a sentence together, or inspire potential customers.’
He held up a hand. ‘And don’t look at me like that, I’m trying to pay you a compliment.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I thought what you had to say was very good actually. Considering how little time you’ve spent here, you came up with a really brilliant set of plans, full of detail and which also showed imagination and resourcefulness. That’s what I need here, Maddie.’
She smiled. ‘But?’
‘But we’ve got to work together, not fight one another. And to do that you’ll have to compromise on some of your principles and carry out work according to my vision of this place, putting your own aside. I’m not sure it’s fair to ask you to do that… and, if I’m honest, I’m not sure you’ll be able to.’
He pulled a face as if to soften the effect of his words. ‘I’ve wasted too much time and energy here over the last few years but I am passionate about this place and what I want for its future. I’m afraid I’m not prepared to waste any more time or to let anything alter me from my course. Not Agatha. Not anyone. As long as you understand that, we’ll make great team.’
‘And, if I don’t?’
‘Then you’re welcome to stay as long as it takes for your car to be fixed and then you can be on your way. No hard feelings.’ He rested his chin in his hand. ‘Although, I’d much rather you stayed because you want to. I need someone with your drive and tenacity.’
Maddie nodded, picking up her mug and draining the contents in a series of long swallows. Then she replaced the mug and sat back in her chair, grimacing slightly at the ache in her shoulder. She was just about to reply, when she caught sight of the tip of a ginger tail over the top of the table. She stretched up to get a better view, and Seth’s eyes followed.
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘The culprit himself. Rumpus by name, Rumpus by nature.’ He bent down to run a hand along the cat’s back. ‘To what do we owe the pleasure?’ He looked up at Maddie. ‘He’s a very contrary cat usually, not given to outward displays of affection.’ He watched, an amused expression on his face as Rumpus wound his body around Maddie’s legs, purring loudly. ‘Well now, it would seem someone else would like you to stay too.’
Maddie reached down, gently pulling at the cat’s soft ears. He pushed his head into her hand and she could feel his whole body vibrating. She’d never owned a cat before, or ever really had an opinion about them one way or the other, but just now she was very grateful that the cat was still in one piece. She could use a bit of comfort.
She straightened up slowly. ‘I think you might be right about feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck,’ she said. ‘Everything’s beginning to ache.’
Seth smiled at her. ‘I’ll run you a bath,’ he said. ‘Best remedy there is.’
Chapter 8
It was such a lovely dream. She was lying on a golden beach with a soft breeze blowing gently on her face and warming rays from the sun caressing her skin. Then she realised that it wasn’t a beach she was lying on at all, but a smooth expanse of something silky, wrapped around her… She stretched out a hand to run her fingers across the surface… and opened her eyes.
The pale walls of her bedroom swam into view, a shaft of sunlight through the hazy curtain falling across her pillow. As she turned her head a fraction, a sweet-smelling breeze billowed the voile and a warm current of spring air glided over her. She went to move towards it and immediately realised the full extent of her mistake. This was no dream, it was a nightmare.
Even her fingers hurt. Her neck, her back and her shoulders she could understand. Her legs too, but her fingers? She had gone to bed feeling tired and a little achy, but soothed a little by a long soak in a hot bath. She had envisaged a slight stiffness come the morning, but how wrong could she be? Her head and neck felt like they were locked in a vice, and she realised pretty quickly that if she wanted to look either left or right then she would have to move her whole body… very slowly. She eased her legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand.
The irony was, she had slept like a log. More soundly and for longer than she could ever remember. In fact, it was already past nine o’clock and she wasn’t even out of bed. She pulled a face at her reflection in the mirror and hobbled to the bathroom.
Her bags were still on the floor where she had left them last night. It had seemed too much of an effort to unpack them all over again, but this morning, the task seemed insurmountable. She groaned. Even the thought of getting dressed seemed like an impossibility. Her eyes flicked to a carrier bag that still lay on the chest of drawers where it had been discarded. It was a long shot, but that at least she could reach.
She pulled out the pile of clothes that had once belonged to Clara and straightened them out, turning them over to see what there was. There were some leggings and a couple of pairs of jeans – pale denim worn smooth with use, but supple, not stiff and unyielding like hers were – and four tops, two of which were tunic length and two shorter, all made from the same soft jersey. To her tortured body they felt like heaven.
It took a while, but eventually she managed to put on some underwear and with a few hideous grunting noises pulled on some leggings and one of the tunics, a soft raspberry colour with a gentle scooped neckline. She felt conspicuously underdressed, almost as if she weren’t wearing any clothes at all, but they fitted, and the lack of buttons, belts and hard bits of any kind was a real bonus. She eased her way down the stairs on bare feet.
The house was quiet, not surprisingly; Seth had probably been hard at it for hours, and although Maddie’s stomach was rumbling her tardiness was beginning to make her feel awkward. After the truce of the evening before, it seemed wrong to be lingering here when there was work to be done. She grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the table and looked around for something to put on her feet.
Spying a pair of gardening clogs by the back door, she slipped them on and slowly made her way around the side of the house. As soon as she rounded the corner the sound of voices met her and, as she passed the tumbledown greenhouse, three figures could be seen sitting on the bench in the middle of the garden, deep in conversation. She hesitated, feeling very much like the outsider she was.
Seth’s hand rose in the air and a shouted hello floated across to her. She picked her way gingerly down the path to where he squinted up at her, one hand shielding his eyes from the bright morning sun.
‘Ouch,’ he said. ‘I fear my diagnosis of yesterday evening was all too accurate.’
Maddie grimaced. ‘And some,’ she said. ‘It was indeed a very larg
e truck. For goodness’ sake, even my fingers hurt.’
Seth winced. ‘I didn’t really expect you to put in an appearance today to be honest, but I’m glad you have. Can I introduce you?’ He smiled at the woman seated next to him. ‘Clara you’ve already met, I think.’
She touched a hand to the hem of her top and smiled shyly, still embarrassed about her outburst the day before.
‘I have.’
There was no need to say thank you, it was unspoken in the air between her and Clara’s beaming smile.
‘And this is Tom.’ He waited until Maddie and he had shaken hands. ‘Tom is our master thatcher and a very old friend. This is important, because most of the time he behaves like an irresponsible degenerate and this allows him to get away with murder.’
‘I do not,’ he shot back in mock-horror. ‘Honestly… How could you say such a thing?’ He winked at Maddie.
‘I’ll try and remember that,’ she replied, laughing.
Tom’s smile was slower than Clara’s; a lazy lopsided grin, but no less welcoming. ‘Pleased to meet you, Maddie. The guv’nor has been telling us all about you.’
Maddie looked at Seth, horrified, but he held her look without a trace of embarrassment.
‘We’re trying to formulate a battle plan,’ he explained. ‘One that stands a chance of being snuck past Agatha’s very long nose. Now that we’ve got you here to direct traffic, I’m hoping we can really begin to get things moving.’
‘Direct traffic?’ Maddie asked. ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’
‘Sorry.’ He waved a hand at Tom. ‘Maddie here is from London, which might as well be a foreign country as far as I’m concerned, but it does mean you’ll all need to use correct terminology or she won’t understand what you mean.’ He gave her the slightest of winks. ‘Project Manager is how it’s usually referred to, I believe.’
Maddie’s mouth dropped open. ‘You want me to project manage?’
‘That’s what you’re good at, isn’t it? And that’s definitely what we need around here.’
All three heads looked at her and nodded.
‘Seth’s never around when you need to ask him something,’ said Clara. ‘So it will be great to have someone on hand who knows what’s supposed to be going on.’
Maddie swallowed. Given the events of the last couple of days she’d never imagined for one minute that Seth would propose such a thing. It was extraordinarily generous.
‘Maddie can schedule the work, source the materials and tie the whole project together while I’m busy with other things. That way, we won’t lose any more time, Agatha will be happy – well, happier – and Joy’s Acre can start to fulfil the vision I have for it.’
‘As long as you tell me what that is exactly.’
Seth stood up. ‘Good point,’ he replied. ‘I’ve already explained that you had a bit of an accident yesterday, and so while you’re not up to much, it gives us the perfect opportunity to go back to the house, rustle up some proper breakfast, and thrash this thing out once and for all. What do you say?’
Clara grinned and Tom got to his feet, dragging his jeans back up over his hips. ‘Right you are, guv’nor. Sounds like a plan.’
* * *
If Maddie was grateful for her elasticated waistband before, she was certainly thankful for it now. She didn’t think she had ever eaten so much, and certainly never at breakfast time. Clara had made eggy bread with rashers of bacon, mushrooms and tiny sweet tomatoes drizzled in oil and herbs. There were savoury muffins too, cooked fresh from the freezer and served warm and oozing with butter. A huge pot of tea stood in the centre of the table, and for some while there was little sound apart from the scraping of cutlery against plates and contented groans. What little conversation interspersed the meal was light-hearted and easy.
She soon learned that Tom was something of a joker. While he treated Seth with an almost religious reverence, he flirted outrageously with her and Clara and, with his wheaten-coloured hair, blue eyes and day-old stubble, Maddie could see how he would seem appealing. There was no substance to his flirting though. It was good-natured banter, harmless and fun, and Maddie immediately felt relaxed in his company.
Contrary to the impression that Seth had given her yesterday, his plans for the work required on site were pretty comprehensive. Tom was merely the first in a long line of craftsmen and contractors he had lined up, the only difference being that Seth had grown up with Tom, and their shared vision for Joy’s Acre had been born during a late-night drinking session at the local pub several years before. Without Tom, Seth wouldn’t be in the position he was in today, it was as simple as that. As both were practitioners of traditional crafts, they were devout in their allegiance to repair and renewal rather than starting from scratch and, while Maddie could see why this mattered so much to them, she knew there was a fine balance to be weighed.
She sat back and listened for quite some time, thinking about the ideas she had put together over the last few days. It was obvious now that most of them had been wildly inappropriate; but most did not mean all, and she would need to speak up now if she wanted to get her point across.
She raised a tentative hand, causing Clara to laugh. ‘Guys, will you shut up a minute, you need to let Maddie get a word in. The poor girl can’t hear herself think.’
Maddie flashed her a grateful smile. ‘I just wanted to mention something I found out the other day. Which, while it might go against all your principles, will make your lives so much easier in the long run. It will save you money and time, two resources you can’t afford to waste.’ All eyes turned on her. ‘Please, please, please can we get some decent broadband,’ she said.
Tom hooted with laughter. ‘A-bloody-men to that,’ he said. ‘Finally, someone else who agrees with me.’
Seth gave him a wry look. ‘Only because it’ll mean you can check your dating app as often as you want to.’
Tom winked at Maddie. ‘Nothing wrong with that,’ he said. ‘I’d hate for some lovely lady to miss out.’
There was a collective groan around the table.
‘That, in itself, is good enough reason not to get broadband,’ said Clara, rolling her eyes. ‘It will save a huge number of poor women from utter disappointment.’
Seth was smiling, but Maddie could see it was in reaction to the comments her suggestion had given rise to, rather than the idea itself.
‘I can see you’re not keen,’ she began, ‘but can I at least say why I think it would be such a good idea?’
‘Can’t deny her that, surely,’ put in Tom.
‘No,’ said Seth slowly. ‘I can’t deny her that.’
‘Tell me first why you don’t want it,’ countered Maddie.
‘Oh, clever!’ Clara grinned.
Seth raised his hands in a helpless gesture.
‘Look, will you lot shut up a minute. There are two reasons we’ve never had broadband here. One, is simply that we’re in a really poor service area; we struggle for a phone signal as it is, and there’s no way we could get a service here that is fast enough to cope with loads of people accessing it at the same time. I know, because I’ve checked.’
He flashed Tom a look. ‘The second reason goes much deeper, and is simply that it doesn’t fit with my idea of how things should be here. I want Joy’s Acre to be a place where people can escape from the real world, not be tethered to it at every minute of the day.’
Maddie nodded. ‘Yes, I get that and I understand it completely, but you can have both. You could set up the service so that each cottage or area of the site had its own router – that way people can choose whether they access the Wi-Fi or not. You could even control it yourself, allowing access only to certain places at certain times. That way you’d have the best of both worlds. Your business customers will be happy, but you can also create an away-from-it-all feeling too.’
Clara leaned forward, her arm resting on Seth’s.
‘She has a point. It would be daft to alienate people and turn away good
money for the sake of your principles. If customers have a choice about whether to access the Wi-Fi or not, you won’t be giving anyone an excuse not to choose this place as somewhere to stay.’
‘I didn’t even know you could do such a thing,’ replied Seth. ‘Are you sure that’s possible?’
‘Absolutely. I wouldn’t have mentioned it if it wasn’t. My main reason for suggesting it, however, is not because you’ll need it in the future, but because, right now, having access to the internet could save you a fortune in sourcing materials; which materials, where to get them at the best price, etcetera. Everything you need at the click of a button. The hours you would save would make it worth its weight in gold.’
‘Except, there is still one small problem,’ said Clara. ‘Seth’s already mentioned that there’s no decent broadband available here.’
Maddie grinned at the faces around the table. ‘Ah, but I met someone the other day who might hold the key to that particular problem. Apparently, you can have broadband radioed in, to a dish which you put up on site, a bit like satellite TV.’
‘Which will be hideously expensive, I’m sure…’
‘Seth, just listen,’ argued Clara, poking him in the ribs this time. She raised her eyebrows at Maddie.
‘No, it’s not apparently. More than the usual service, yes, but not prohibitively so.’
‘And you could find out?’
‘I can.’
‘Right then,’ said Seth with finality. ‘That sounds like it’s a distinct possibility. Now, does anyone want one final cup of tea before we clear this lot away? Tom, you and I have a roof to thatch.’
Chapter 9
Maddie had never driven a car so large before but, despite feeling like a doll sitting in an oversized plaything, it was remarkably easy. Effortless, even. And so much smoother than her own little sports car which hugged the road and felt every bump. Even so, her heart was going like the clappers.
There’d been no choice really, not if she wanted to go and see Trixie and strike while the iron was hot. The initial news about her own car wasn’t good. If it was repairable at all, it would take some time and it had been Seth’s idea that she take his car. She had half hoped that he might offer to go with her, but in reality, she knew there was far too much for him to do. Still, having him with her would have allayed a little of her anxiety, whereas now it was just her and the road…
