by Emma Davies
‘And the rest is history,’ finished Henry.
Willow felt like a spectator at a tennis match, as she struggled to keep up with the conversation that batted back and forth, Henry and Delilah both finishing each other’s sentences.
‘Well it’s lovely to meet you, Delilah, although I shall thump Henry later for not telling me about you. How long are you staying for? Only if you’re here for a few days then you should come over to us for dinner one evening. I haven’t cooked properly for anyone in ages.’
Henry exchanged another look with Delilah before replying. ‘Willow runs a fruit farm,’ he explained, ‘but she also happens to be the finest cook for miles around, and she makes the most amazing ice cream.’
‘To be honest I’m not entirely sure how long I’ll be here for,’ replied Delilah with a rather coy look at Henry. ‘We’re sort of taking things as they come… dinner sounds a lovely idea though, thank you.’ She twiddled the ends of her jet black hair around her fingers. ‘I don’t suppose you make your ice cream with goat’s milk do you?’
‘No, sorry,’ replied Willow. ‘It’s rather a new venture. I think I need to stick with what I know for now, but who knows, maybe one day.’ She suddenly felt very naïve in front of this confident young woman who obviously had a successful business herself. There was so much she needed to learn.
She sat up a little straighter in her chair. ‘Actually, Henry, I’m sorry for hogging your afternoon, but the ice cream making is the reason I popped round. I’ve made a decision on the designs you produced for me, but I’m not sure where to go from here. I need packaging and marketing stuff, but I’m clueless about who to use, and what it’s likely to cost. I was hoping you might be able to point me in the right direction.’
Henry’s grey eyes sparkled at her. ‘But that’s brilliant news, Willow. Which designs did you go for in the end?’ He got up from the table. ‘Hang on and I’ll get my laptop.’
It took a few moments for him to boot it up and navigate to the right folder, but almost immediately Delilah pulled her chair closer to his so that she could see the screen too. ‘I’ve got Henry working on some new designs for me as well, but I’d love to see what else he’s been doing. Frankly I’m amazed he even found my company to begin with, my website is so out of date it’s shocking, and while the stuff I produce is of the highest quality the designs for the packaging and branding are total pants.’ She looked at the screen for a moment as Henry scrolled through the images, her hand suddenly grabbing his to halt the movement. ‘Oh, I like those ones,’ she exclaimed. ‘The colours are wonderful, and—’
She suddenly stopped, looking across at Willow, misreading her expression. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I get a bit excitable sometimes.’
Willow could feel a little tingle in her toes. ‘Do you really like them?’ she urged, ‘only that set is the one I’ve picked. I could have one colour for each of the different flavours. So my elderflower ice cream and cordial could have this zingy green for example and—’
‘Maybe this for strawberry?’ finished Delilah.
The two women stared at one another for a moment, beaming smiles on both their faces. Willow’s hand strayed to the tiger’s eye pendant around her neck, where it remained, her fingers stroking the smooth polished surface of the stone.
‘That’s exactly what I was going to say,’ said Willow. ‘I don’t suppose you know someone who makes brilliant, but not too expensive packaging do you?’
Delilah gave Henry a gentle nudge to the ribs. ‘Any chance of a biscuit my gorgeous lover,’ she said in a thick Cornish drawl, ‘an’ we might be needing some more tea an all,’ she added, blowing a kiss. ‘Willow and I have a lot to talk about.’
Chapter 6
‘I hope we’re not too early,’ said Peter, looking at Willow’s astonished face. ‘Only I wasn’t sure how long this would take.’
She swallowed her mouthful of tea. ‘No, not too early. I just… didn’t expect quite so many of you,’ replied Willow. ‘But this is wonderful!’ she finished, doing a swift tally in her head. Where on earth had Peter dredged all these people up from? And more importantly people who all looked pleased to be here.
‘So who have we got?’ she asked. ‘Although I should apologise in advance because I’ll probably forget half your names in the next five minutes.’
‘Okay, so we have Callum, my brother,’ Peter began, ‘followed by Luke and Josh, twins obviously. Jennie, who’s Josh’s girlfriend, Lucy her friend, and Ollie. I can vouch for them all except Ollie, who’s a drunken reprobate most of the time, but has promised to be on his best behaviour today.’
Willow had a feeling he was joking, but she wasn’t entirely sure. She smiled, a little nervously. ‘Right, well… have you all had breakfast?’ A chorus of affirmation followed.
‘And they’ve all got plenty to drink, snacks to eat and are smothered in factor 50.’
‘Peter, what would I do without you?’
Willow downed the rest of her tea as fast as possible and snatched an apple from the bowl on the table. ‘Right, do you want to follow me and we’ll get going. I’ll explain what I need once we’re outside, and then you can decide what you want to do.’
In the end it was an easy decision. Peter declared that he was a strawberry man. It was what he knew, and he could help the others if they got stuck. He picked his ‘team’ of Callum, Ollie and Luke, leaving Josh, Jennie and Lucy to stay with Willow. After a few moments of discussion, Peter led his crew away and Willow watched him stride out into the field with pride. She and her strawberries were in safe hands.
She led the others around to the side of the house and one of the long low barns that stood there. At the moment it was mainly used for storage of outdoor equipment, but Willow had other plans for it longer term. Inside it was dark and still, a warm musty smell rushing through the opened door, dust motes spilling out into the sunshine. Inside she quickly found what she was looking for and brought the special hods over for everyone to see.
‘I bought these a while ago from a market selling old farm equipment,’ Willow explained. ‘They’re actually for picking apples, but perfect for all sorts of things.’ She showed them the large bucket made from canvas and reinforced with metal strips. A wide canvas strap was attached at each side. ‘You wear them across your body. They’re surprisingly comfortable, and you get both hands free for picking, plus you don’t have to keep bending down. I’ve only got two though so we’ll have to share.’
‘No problem,’ said Josh. ‘Jennie and I can share.’
‘Great! I’ll wear the other one, and let’s get going shall we? The elderflower’s only in the next door field so it’s not far.’
She stopped when they got to the hedgerow, and turned to face the group. ‘I’m just going to point this out,’ she started, ‘because it’s not as daft as it sounds, and definitely not ’cause I think you’re all thick.’ She held a frond of creamy white flowers in her hand. ‘So this is cow parsley.’ She then reached overhead to pluck another head of flowers from the bush above her. ‘While this on the other hand is elderflower, and they are actually pretty similar.’ She shook the head of elderflowers. ‘And whereas this one makes a gorgeous fresh tasting drink, cow parsley tastes revolting. It also looks very similar to Hemlock which if you’re unlucky enough to eat will kill you.’
She smiled reassuringly at Lucy who was beginning to look a little nervous. ‘Fortunately, although the flowers look quite similar the leaves on the elderflower are quite different… look.’ She showed them the rounded leaves on the bush above her. ‘So I know you’ll all be fine, and since I like nothing more than to tease my husband who once picked a fine crop of both for me, I’m counting on you three not to let me down.’ She grinned. ‘We’re also only going to pick half the flowers on each bush. That way we leave the other half to turn into beautiful elderberries come the autumn.’
‘Are those the tiny purple berries that people make into wine?’ asked Jennie. ‘My grandad used to give
it to us at Christmas. It was revolting.’
Willow laughed. ‘I think they’ve had rather a bad press as far as homemade wine goes, but I make them into a cordial which is gorgeous, and a pretty fearsome liqueur too. Has you under the table in a matter of minutes if you’re not used to it.’
By the time Willow even thought to check her watch again, nearly three hours had passed amid much happy chatter, laughter and the odd Taylor Swift song belted out from Jennie’s iPod. Above her the sun continued to beam down on them as the skylark’s distinctive call filled the air, and cabbage white butterflies danced to find their dinner. There was nowhere finer to be on a summer’s day, and if this was work, Willow hoped she could do it forever. She’d lost count of the number of times the hods had been emptied into the plastic sacks she’d also brought along, and now half a dozen were full and ready to take back to the house.
She motioned for everyone to join her, taking off her hat, and shielding her eyes from the sun.
‘Look at this lot, amazing!’ she exclaimed. ‘Thank you all so much. You’ve all worked so hard.’
She was met with three happy faces.
‘Why don’t we take these back to the house and I can get you all some lunch. I made a special treat for pudding.’
The two girls exchanged grins. ‘I’ve really enjoyed this morning, Willow,’ said Lucy. ‘I didn’t think it would be half as much fun as it has been, and it’s so beautiful here.’
Willow smiled to herself. Lucy who at first had been a little shy, and quieter than the other two, had soon relaxed in the fragrant air, with the sun warming her limbs and the light breeze ruffling her hair. Willow had seen it so many times before, but the magic of the countryside never lost its potency. She gave a slight shiver, acknowledging the dark clouds that hovered just out of sight, but she pushed them away. That was a battle for another day.
Having sent Josh out to fetch Peter and the other lads, she and Lucy poured out some drinks, while Jennie laid the table. It was simple food, but once it covered the table, the comments were full of appreciation. A fresh cob loaf stood in the centre, surrounded by a wedge of strong cheese, ripe tomatoes the size of small apples and a dish of plum chutney which glowed pinky-red in the sunlight. A huge strawberry Pavlova sat waiting to one side, a jug of fresh cream beside it. Mouths watered, plates were heaped and bellies were filled. It was the perfect end to a perfect morning.
Willow looked up at the big clock that hung on the wall behind the table and then back down at the sea of contented faces. There were still a couple of hours to go before the children got home from school.
‘Right then, who’d like to pick some gooseberries this afternoon?’
It wasn’t unusual for Jude to get home from work late when he was away from the office. The clients who bought the huge estates his company sold were wealthy and liked to be wined and dined as part of the deal. Sometimes they just liked to talk, about their holidays or their yachts, their art collection or the shares they’d just sold for a couple of million. Jude would do whatever it took to get the business, but he always let Willow know when he was going to be delayed. Always.
She hadn’t even realised how late it was until her stomach gave a huge gurgle. Lovely though it had been, lunch was a distant memory, and now the girls were already in bed, and the quick half hour she had planned checking the elderflowers over before dinner had turned into nearly an hour.
With a sigh she covered her precious crop and went back through to the kitchen. Her mobile phone still lay on the table and she checked it again. The last message she had received from Jude was at six thirty, saying he would be home in about an hour. Whilst in reality this meant it would be nearer eight before he got in, it was now nearly nine. She opened the Aga’s warming drawer and peered at the lasagne. It was now or never.
By the time she had finished her food, a curl of unease was working its way up her spine. This was not like Jude at all, and all her calls to his mobile had gone straight to his answerphone. She didn’t know what to do. This had never happened before, and there was no-one she could contact. He worked alone day to day, and although his father was a partner in the business he would have no more idea about Jude’s whereabouts than she did. Besides which she would rather wait, alone and anxious, before she called that man. She drew up her legs on the kitchen chair, wrapping her arms around them. She would wait until ten o’clock, and then she was calling the police.
The room was fully dark when the sweep of headlights hit the wall opposite her. It was three minutes to ten. Willow let out a breath and rose stiffly from the chair, one leg refusing to work after being bent in the same position for so long. She resisted the urge to fly down the hallway. Whatever had detained Jude would not be helped by her ranting at him like a hysterical fishwife, but it would take all her acting powers to remain calm and reasoned.
Any anger she had, however, evaporated the minute she caught sight of him. At first she thought he’d been in a fight; his clothes were dishevelled, his tie gone altogether. But then she saw the expression on his face and the breath caught in her throat. Like anybody, Jude had days when his mood was not as sunny as on others, but in all the years they’d been together she’d never seen him look so low, utterly defeated in fact. He looked as if he were barely hanging on by a thread, and then he turned away from her gaze, as if ashamed.
He carried no bag, no paperwork, no phone or iPad; all the things he had left the house with this morning and, as Willow followed him slowly up the stairs, he might as well have been a ghost for all the substance he had. She flicked on the bedroom light ahead of him, darting in front to try and engage with him in some way, but he turned a weary head towards her.
‘Please Willow, don’t. Just come to bed. Just be with me.’
By the time she had turned off the lights downstairs and locked up for the night, Jude was already in bed. His once immaculate suit lay discarded in a heap by the bed, only the watch she had given him the Christmas before was placed carefully on the table beside the bed.
She slipped on her pyjamas and crawled into bed beside him where he pulled her so that she lay almost on top of him, her blonde hair splayed out in a fan across his naked chest. He began to stroke it, and it was a long time before his hand finally stilled and he slept. Willow closed her eyes and waited.
Chapter 7
Jude had got up as usual at seven o’clock that morning, spent double the amount of time he normally did in the bathroom, and emerged as if nothing had happened the evening before. He ate wholemeal toast and honey like he always did, drank a cup of tea, followed by a cup of coffee as was his custom and it wasn’t until Willow sat pointedly in front of him that he looked up with a grimace.
‘Oh God, that’s better. I feel almost human again,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘Remind me never to entertain Mr Nakamura and his cronies again. They took me to some ‘authentic’ restaurant and I’ve never felt so ill in all my life. I ate things that would probably make me feel sick just looking at them, never mind having them for dinner. Coupled with some heinous wine concoction. I’m a country boy at heart, I can’t cope with too much exotica.’
Willow studied him for a moment, his face open and honest, just like it always was. He looked a little tired, but the desolation of the night before was nowhere to be seen.
‘I’m really sorry I didn’t let you know I’d be so late. Events overtook me rather and the Japanese consider it extremely rude to use your phone in a restaurant. I was in a bit of a quandary really.’
‘You could have called when you left the restaurant. I was really worried.’
‘Willow, I was completely pickled. I was way over the legal limit and not thinking logically about anything. I can’t believe I drove home.’ He shuddered. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about.’
He reached out his hand to her. ‘Listen I’m back in the office today, and there’s every chance I could be finished by three. Why don’t we take the girls and go out for a picnic tea?’
It wa
s a lovely idea, and were it not for the fact that she was absolutely sure that not one drop of alcohol had passed her husband’s lips last night, she would have accepted his peace offering without a second thought. His story was so convincing he even had himself believing it, but there was more to it than that; a lot more. Willow didn’t need second sight to know that her husband needed her more than ever right now. Whatever was happening in his world he was trying to shield her from it, just as he always did, only this time it was serious. This time he was scared.
Jude kissed his wife goodbye and left the house by the back door. He closed his eyes momentarily against the bright sunlight, and took a deep breath before continuing the short walk to his office. He wasn’t sure that he had completely got away with it, but Willow was not the suspicious kind, and she was worried about him rather than looking to find some darker reason for his behaviour yesterday. With any luck by this evening she would have forgotten about it entirely. Jude, however, was certain that the events of the previous evening would stay with him for a long time to come.
Willow hoped Peter wouldn’t notice the bags under her eyes, although knowing him he would, and just wouldn’t say anything. Now more than ever it seemed important to get her new venture well and truly underway. She was beginning to feel panicked, which was not like her at all, but last night had spooked her. She had never seen Jude look so distraught, and the fact that he had lied so blatantly about what had happened was proof enough that something was very amiss.
She stood in the doorway to her new stillroom, hands on her hips surveying the stacked crates of elderflowers, and the bags full of flower heads that had yet to be checked over. There was so much to do and the only way through it was to start at the beginning and work methodically. She picked up three huge boiling pans in succession, filling each with water and setting them to heat.
‘Peter would you mind paring the zest from all these lemons, and then quarter the fruit when you’ve done that.’
