A Cottage in the Country

by Linn B. Halton

  He carries a mug over to me as I sit up and straighten the pillows. He places it down on the table next to the bed, sporting a wry smile.

  "What?"

  "This is weird, isn't it? If you were anyone else I'd expect to be jumping into bed beside them. We aren't quite at that stage yet, are we?" He looks down at me, his gaze is searching and makes me flustered. No, I'm not ready, but I offer up my face for a kiss and he immediately obliges. That really makes him smile.

  "We're still the same people underneath, nothing has changed," I reassure him.

  "But everything could be about to change."

  Lewis' face immediately springs into my mind and I quickly push it away. Ryan grabs his mug and comes to sit at my feet.

  "We need to talk a few things through," he's serious, although I'm having a concentration problem, not aided by this surreal setting.

  "Fire away."

  "Look, I spent so long thinking of you as someone else's wife that it's difficult for me not to feel that I'm carrying out some heinous crime here. For starters you haven't actually told me how you feel. I just wanted to be straight with you and though I'm trying to be patient, I need to know what your answer is going to be."

  Am I attracted to Ryan? Well, the honest answer is, yes, I suppose there always was a little undercurrent going on in our friendship. I simply hadn't realised it was there; I was too busy juggling family life. What happened with Lewis was an aberration, so I have to put that out of my mind.

  I pose the question that has been worrying me. "I've always been your number-one fan, you know that, but how do we cross that divide between being just best friends and two people in a relationship?"

  "I thought we could use tonight's party as a starting point."

  "How?"

  "I think we should regard it as our coming-out party."

  I almost drop the mug of hot tea into my lap.

  "Which means?"

  "I want to announce to our friends and colleagues that we're seeing each other. If the world begins to regard us as a couple, then I think the transition will be easier. Let's just put it out there and see what the reaction is to the news. Worst-case is there will be a little bit of gossip about when exactly we became close. As neither of us has anything to hide, that doesn't worry me one little bit."

  "This is it, isn't it? I guess I'd better get used to a new role. I won't be sorry to let go of the betrayed-wife label, I'm heartily sick of it. I only hope I can rise to the challenge of being the love interest in Mr Ryan Fielding's life." I look up at him from beneath my eyelashes, hardly vampish, given my attire, but it's a start.

  "Hmm…I'm really looking forward to this evening. I think there are going to be a few shocked faces, that's for sure."

  More and more I'm noticing a hint of playfulness mingling with his words and accentuating his low, dulcet tones. I guess the changes are happening already and we've crossed the line into the unknown.

  Why, oh why, did I just randomly pick up items and stuff them into the holdall that day, letting anger take over and pushing out any sensible thoughts about packing? Unease settles in my stomach as I know the answer only too well – I was upset that Lewis was in such a hurry to see the back of me. Well, that was then and this is now! I want to look my absolute best tonight for Ryan and, fortunately, I grabbed the right dress to do that. I seem to have thrown in some shoes that will do and all I'm missing are a few accessories.

  "What's wrong?" Ryan pops his head around the door, checking up on me. I've been in here a long time.

  "I could cheerfully scream at the moment. I'll never pack a bag in a hurry again."

  Stressed doesn't quite describe a feeling that is now beginning to develop into a bit of a panic attack.

  "Hey, calm down. That dress is amazing and I love it when you pin your hair up like that."

  I stare at my reflection in the mirror, acknowledging that the hair looks good, which is rather a miracle, given that I didn't bring half of my hair products. Ryan's guest bathroom is rather well stocked and thoughtfully so, from a female perspective. There was even a small can of hairspray and I try not to think about the woman who forgot to pack it after her overnight stay.

  "Well, the shoes will do, although I have a fabulously sparkly pair back at the cottage that would have been perfect. But I didn't pack anything to put around my neck and with this neckline it looks as if I'm half dressed. Why didn't I think to throw in some jewellery or a small scarf?"

  I'm moaning and Ryan looks rather wary, no doubt seeing a side of me he hasn't seen before. A woman about to flip because she doesn't feel her best when it's time to shine.

  I shoot a look at him in pure exasperation, a part of me wanting to say I can't do this tonight because I want everything to be perfect – and it isn't.

  "Hey," he approaches slowly, but doesn't take his eyes off my face. With great care he places a hand on each of my shoulders, making sure he doesn't disturb my hair. Those familiar, gentle eyes crinkle up into a heart-warming smile.

  "I have just the thing, well a few things actually. Come with me." He drops his hands down and reaches out for my hand, leading me off in the direction of his bedroom.

  I've been in here once before when he was showing off the new decor. It's very minimalist, with a soft cream carpet that must have cost a fortune and glossy doors running along the length of one wall that slide open at the touch of a finger. Exposed is a fitted interior in pale oak and everything is so neatly organised it's like being in a high-end fashion store. To the right-hand side, a stack of narrow drawers extend from the floor to the ceiling and Ryan flips out a small ladder, concealed at the side. He places his foot on the second step and reaches up to pull out a half-drawer, level with his shoulders.

  "Here," he climbs back down and indicates for me to look inside.

  At first I have no idea what I'm looking at. Is it a keepsake drawer? There is a small stack of what looks like cards, the sort you give at Christmas and on birthdays, plus six or seven boxes varying in size and shape.

  "Embarrassing, eh?" A nervous smile plays around the edges of his mouth. He looks at me intently, awaiting my reaction. "Go ahead."

  I pull out the top card, wondering where I've seen it before and when I flick it open, it's my own handwriting I see staring back at me. I check the next card in the pile – and the next. They're all from me. I look up at him, questioningly.

  "Every card you've ever given me. You always made me feel special, Maddie. Each card wasn't just plucked from a shelf, but thought was put into choosing the right one. Always a work of art or a scene you thought I'd enjoy and even links to places you know I've visited. And I thought of you in a special way, each birthday and Christmas."

  "I know. Flowers are my favourite gift, because no one but you ever bought them for me." At the time I don't think that had really occurred to me. I just assumed it was the gift that was easy to give a woman who was your employee and a friend. Not too personal, and yet a lovely gesture.

  "These are the gifts I couldn't give you," he places the small drawer down on the bed and withdraws one of the boxes, holding it out to me.

  I take it from him, feeling bewildered. He nods his head, inviting me to open it. As I ease off the lid, inside there is an exquisite necklace. The delicate chain is offset by a leaf held by its stem and the detail is simply wonderful.

  "It's stunning. But, why?"

  "Because I wanted to give you beautiful things, but it wasn't my place. Not then; maybe never. But there didn't seem to be any harm in having them here, in case."

  Having taken the best part of an hour on skin preparation and then make-up to look my best for tonight, tears now threaten to undo all the good work. I want to say something, but when I open my mouth to speak, my throat is hoarse with the effort of holding my emotions in check.

  "Don't be freaked out," Ryan insists. "Just look through what's here and pick whatever you want to wear. These were bought for you and I know we're taking it slowly, but maybe on your
next birthday you'll accept them as a special gift from me."

  I throw my arms around his neck and, while taking deep breaths to keep myself from tearing-up, I show him how I feel. Hair, make-up…nothing matters any more. I knew Ryan had a good heart, but I never for one moment thought it was mine.

  LEWIS

  CHAPTER 29

  It didn't take long for Terence to appear after Maddie and Ryan left.

  "What's happening? Where's Maddie going?"

  I think Terence assumed that I'd upset her in some way.

  "That was Ryan, her boss. She's going to spend Christmas with him so I can get on with the work without any interruptions."

  "Well, that's a surprise. Guess you're happy about that, then?"

  It' a weird question – of course I'm happy about that.

  "Do you mind if I sit? It's been an awful morning. Just between us, Joanna isn't an easy woman to live with. She hates to see me being idle, as she calls it."

  "Women, eh? No chance of a peaceful life whenever they're around."

  "I thought maybe there was something developing between the two of you? I guess if she's gone off with her boss, I was wrong."

  That's the thing about Terence, he sees a lot and usually says a little.

  "I'm sensing this situation has become a little complicated. Am I right?"

  Okay, he's offering a listening ear and that's probably just what I need at the moment.

  "I knew she was going to be trouble from the moment I first set eyes on her, Terence. Miss Madeleine Brooks: her name conjures up the image of a formidable ex-school mistress, or a spinster lady you wouldn't want to cross. And there she was, all doe-eyed and fragile after her recent divorce. Hurting and vulnerable, trying to convince herself, and the world, that she's strong, as she tries not to fall apart. So what did I do? I made her feel like the woman she should be, not the woman some poor-excuse-for-a-husband had turned her into. What on earth was I thinking? Why did I allow the situation to drag me into this little world of hers?" I shake my head, unable to believe the folly of the situation. Terence looks appalled.

  "Looks like rather unfortunate timing. Awkward, though. This Ryan guy has done you a favour, then."

  "Yes, you could say that."

  Even as I replied, I think both Terence and I knew that wasn't the case. He gave a shrug and stood up.

  "I'd better get back, Joanna will be wondering where I am. And Lewis, it's probably all turned out for the best. Sometimes circumstances dictate our actions. People can end up doing things that take them well outside of their comfort zone, only to live to regret it at a later stage."

  I sit for a while, thinking about the past. Yumiko would have understood, of course, because she could see what was inside a person with one sweep of her almond eyes. When I first met her I was a lost soul, just like Madeleine, and having a tough time settling into army life. It was my first trip abroad. I was a swaggering youth, convinced I knew everything, but the reality was that I had a lot of lessons still to learn. Ironically, the posting to Germany didn't seem a big deal, until I was introduced to an oriental lady nearly twenty years my senior. She was quite simply the most beautiful woman I had ever met and in that noisy, smoke-filled bar she seemed so out of place. It was several weeks after our affair began that I learned she was married. Her German husband was a liaison executive for one of the large suppliers of field equipment and he wasn't a nice man. I never really understood why she'd stayed with him, other than he was the man her father had chosen for her.

  We had almost three months of illicit meetings and it was a period in my life that changed me forever. She cared for me in a way no other woman had ever done before and made me understand that sometimes life is about having to learn some rather harsh lessons. That doesn't mean to say that people don't care, but sometimes they don't have a choice, or they do, but they make the wrong decisions – even when that ends up causing someone else pain. She told me that disconnecting myself from my emotions in order to avoid confronting the turmoil within was harming me in more ways than I could know. I was doing that to myself, Yumiko told me in no uncertain terms.

  "You are the master of your own destiny," she'd said. "Make no more excuses. Make only the right decisions."

  As a young child brought up with due care, but shown no real love or demonstrative affection, I came to see that I was bound to feel unloved. She wept for me, for the child I was and the man I had become. When I eventually broke down, it was a release.

  It's true the army routine was exactly what I needed and it stopped me from getting involved with a group of lads at home who were a bad influence. Wasted potential is a tragedy. It wasn't a surprise to hear that one of them ended up in prison for selling drugs to fund his habit. The training I received was character-building and taught me survival and endurance skills that turned a rather unruly youth into a soldier. Before my training I had no concept of what that would mean.

  Yumiko, on the other hand, was the one who taught me how to feel. She also taught me that the body is a temple and you have to respect it. As the first woman in my life who showed me her tears and her joy, she held me to her with a gentleness and desire that was overpowering. The art of tantric lovemaking is not just about erotic skill, but finding within yourself a sense of who you are and laying that bare to the person whose body you honour.

  I've made love to many women in my life since Yumiko. Like ships that pass in the night, it's always been a transient thing. No ties and an instant reaction to a pressing need. Quick, simple and mutually gratifying. I've never looked to rekindle those long, memorable afternoons where time would seem to stretch out endlessly and it was all about the journey, rather than simple self-gratification.

  I let this Madeleine into my thoughts for all the wrong reasons and I dropped my guard, so now I'm paying the price. I felt sorry for her and now this damned woman is in my head. Even though she's not here, I can't stop thinking about her.

  I have to keep reminding myself that this is Aggie's home and, clearly, I'm helping Madeleine out for a reason. I still can't believe that a stranger came along and, because of the unfortunate timing, I lost out.

  Madeleine Brooks made an unwise decision, but she's not a bad person. In fact that's the trouble, she's one of those women who can't stop themselves from wanting to mend the things in life that are broken. She's a nurturer and if she had stayed she would have ended up trying to analyse what's broken inside me. But she also grows on you in an annoying way, with her constant chatter, which draws you out. You find yourself unwittingly telling her things you don't want to share with anyone. Another day and who knows what I would have regretted telling her.

  "How's it going, Lewis? Looks like you're nearly there." Terence appears by my side as I'm on the patio sawing a piece of wood.

  Madeleine has been gone two days and I've been working flat out.

  "Come and take a look. The main bedroom is now finished and all I have left to do is to paint the landing and sitting-room walls. Maddie did all the paintwork and she made a good job of it. Aggie would have approved of getting rid of all of that old, dark rosewood."

  I take Terence on a quick tour and it's the first time he's seen anything beyond the conservatory.

  "This is probably why Joanna is keeping on at me, then. I can see how much brighter the cottage looks now and it feels more spacious. Joanna doesn't miss a thing, unfortunately. She's probably right, of course, as usual."

  "Do you believe in spirits, Terence?"

  "Funny you should ask."

  I wait, expecting him to continue, but he doesn't.

  "There are times I wonder if Aggie is still here and I'm wrong to dismiss what a lot of people believe to be true. But, me, I can't get my head around it. I've felt the negativity of bad karma, well, that's how I think of it. Anyone who has seen death in battle will know what I mean. Whatever reservations I had at the start, after Madeleine moved in, have disappeared. The atmosphere here now is very different, but even I felt spooked that
first couple of days. I can't imagine how Madeleine must have felt. There was something tangible here and I know that sounds crazy."

  "I wouldn't admit this to anyone else, but I don't believe dying is the end of it. It is a shame, though, that all of this couldn't have been done when Aggie was here to fully appreciate it." He shakes his head, soberly.

  "I tried my best to persuade her to let me take my time and, at her pace, turn back the clock on Ash Cottage. But we could all see how tired she was, mentally and physically. Illness is draining and I knew that she would struggle to cope with the upheaval, even though the thought made her eyes shine. So we talked about how it would look, as if her illness was a temporary thing, and she knew I would strive to make her vision come true. The only potential problem was that strip of land to the rear of the cottage and I knew Aggie worried about it, fearing one day someone would lay claim to it. She was adamant that there was no documentation to prove ownership, but always said that her father had purchased it shortly after her grandfather had died. She said, 'You will sort it, won't you, Lewis?' and I'd reassured her that I would. It's none of my business, now, but I hate breaking a promise."

  "She'd understand, given the situation. You've more than honoured her memory, Lewis."

  "Well, it's certainly a weird twist of fate that a stranger ended up being the vehicle for bringing Ash Cottage back to life. While it's unlikely I'll be asked to do the whole project now because of Ryan, that doesn't matter. There's nothing Madeleine is planning to do that Aggie and I didn't visualise, or that would have made her unhappy. I'll admit a part of the reason I felt uncomfortable here at first was because my motive was two-fold. I couldn't see this woman struggle on her own with something she should never have taken on in the first place. The other reason is that I wanted to be around in case she changed her mind and decided to put it back on the market. I still feel that Madeleine doesn't belong here. I was meant to be a forester and live here; she was meant to be living in the city with a man who enjoys the finer things in life."