The Fire House on Honeysuckle Street

by Rachel Dove

Sam left the cottage and nipped next door to make a sandwich before his next cottage. He’d already checked his alarms when he moved in, so his was automatically ticked off the list. He needed a minute, truth be told. He had enlisted the help of his neighbour to find his family, but now he could feel the first lick of fiery desire stirring in his stomach. She was different to other people he had met, and he was intrigued. How strong does a woman have to be to up sticks with her son and spend the summer away? He knew that she was married, but meeting her husband, he just didn’t get it. The two of them together made no sense, and Xander didn’t seem to even miss him. He had come to find his kin, and was somehow on the fringes of her family now too. He needed to be careful, especially if he wanted to make a home here. Work was going well, he was settling in, and had even put feelers out for a house in the area. He needed to stay focused, keep his head in the game, and get on with it. He needed to get to know everyone, and annoying the villagers by hanging around with a married woman he couldn’t quite stop thinking about wasn’t a great start. Somewhere, someone in this village had some answers for him. He just needed to winkle them out of the shell.

  He didn’t expect to just find his mother here, waiting, if he was honest. The letter asked for them not to look for her, and he couldn’t imagine his mother being amongst the faces he had already encountered. No one struck him as familiar, or looked remotely like him. In all the years he had thought about his birth parents, he always felt like he would just know when he met them. That one day, he would turn around and there they would be, standing in the crowd, but so different from anyone else. Someone just like him. Maybe that was just wishful thinking, but it was far better than the alternative.

  Growing up with Sondra, he knew how some parents could be, and the effect their behaviour had on their own children. Even as a grown man, he needed to protect himself, and his heart. Where his neighbours fitted into all that was less clear, and all the more confusing.

  After making a sandwich and grabbing a drink, he left the cottage and headed off to work. He couldn’t resist a quick peek at Lucy’s cottage as he went past, but all was quiet.

  Lucy headed into the lounge, where Xander and Marlene were snugged on the couch watching a programme about a vet. Xander was hugging one of the couch pillows to his chest, tucked into the arm of his great-aunt, who gasped when she walked in.

  ‘Oh, Lucy, you look wonderful! Amanda was right, that colour is perfect for you.’

  She did feel good, truth be told, but she wasn’t completely letting her aunt off the hook. The dress was a perfect fit, and with the stress of the last few months falling away, and a remnant of a tan on her skin, she actually felt beautiful for the first time in a long while.

  ‘Do you know why the broom is upstairs?’ she asked innocently, shuffling the pair of them up and wrapping an arm around Xander. He ran his hand over the material of the dress a little, and resettled. ‘I know it was in the kitchen, because I swept last night and put it away myself after. Did you move it?’

  Marlene, ever the canny woman, didn’t flinch or take her eyes off the television.

  ‘I don’t know, darling, I didn’t notice. I’m glad you like the dress, you should go and have a look in the shop. Amanda has some lovely stuff in, she makes a lot of it herself.’ She looked over Xander’s head at her. ‘There’s some make-up in the chemist’s too, if you need any.’

  Lucy’s face dropped. ‘Do you think I need some?’

  Marlene was already looking back at the TV. ‘A woman sometimes needs a perk up, that’s all. Even feminists like a bit of blusher now and again, don’t they? Cheer themselves up while they do their protesting. What did Sam have to say?’

  Lucy scowled at her. This was looking more suspicious by the minute.

  ‘You mean before or after he was in this house fixing a smoke alarm that wasn’t even broken. Xander left the bathroom door open yesterday while he had his shower and set it off with the steam. I know it was fine, but, according to Sam, it was kaput.’

  Nothing. Xander got up and headed out of the room, leaving the pair of them alone. Now’s my chance.

  ‘It was kaput, because it was dented.’

  Marlene made a non-committal noise, seemingly engaged in a rabbit getting dental surgery. It was Dot who worked in the village surgery, for God’s sake. She was stalling.

  ‘Dented, with what suspiciously looks like a pole.’ A slight lift of the eyebrows, but nothing else. ‘Like the handle of a broom, perhaps?’

  ‘Reeeaallllyy,’ she replied, dragging out every single letter. Playing for time are we? ‘How strange!’

  Xander padded back in on his tiptoes, clutching a large bowl of grapes to him and settling back down between them.

  ‘Did the rabbit get better?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘Yes, pet,’ Marlene said, patting his hand. ‘He’s just going home, look.’ The pair of them looked at the screen and Lucy rolled her eyes. Well played, Auntie, well played.

  ‘I forgot to say, Agatha is hosting a party at hers in a couple of weeks. Just a bit of a charity fundraiser, a select few. She’s planning to split the money between the fire house and the swimming pool. Both projects are quite new, so Agatha is keen to keep the money coming in and the local papers talking.’ She leaned in a little excitedly. ‘There’s even been talk of a pop-up coffee cart! Can you imagine!’ She leaned back against the sofa cushions, a dreamy look on her face. ‘Last time we went to Leeds, I had a vanilla-flavoured coffee.’ Her smile faded. ‘I haven’t quite felt the same about instant since. None of the village coffee quite adds up.’

  Lucy laughed. It really was a different world.

  Chapter 10

  Agatha woke up and turned to her side to look out of the window. She loved the view from her bedroom window, looking out at the fields and trees beyond. The window was open, letting the sound of birdsong fill the room. She leant forward to get out of bed, but a hand snaked across and dragged her back under the duvet.

  ‘Mrs Taylor, where on God’s green do you think you’re going?’ A gravelly voice came from beneath the layers of frilly floral pillows and thick duvet and comforter, muffled and deep. ‘Trying to escape from the floral sweatbox that is our marital bed, are we?’

  She giggled at his choice of words. ‘Sweatbox is hardly the best word to use, darling, it’s rather vulgar.’

  ‘Ah, you love it.’ Taylor slid his other arm underneath her, wrapping her into his arms and pulling her close. ‘It’s your own fault, I mean who has all these blankets on in the middle of summer? And don’t get me started on the patterns.’

  Agatha huffed indignantly. ‘This room hasn’t long been decorated! It might not be on trend, as Amanda keeps reminding me, but it is contemporary.’ She dropped a kiss on his lips.

  ‘Fair enough, but the throw pillows need throwing right off the bed, and never putting on the bed again. It took me ten minutes to get in last night!’

  He kissed her again, snuggling into her.

  ‘What’s the plan for today then, with the girls? I know something’s happening when you lot get together. What’s brewing in the cauldron?’

  ‘Marlene’s niece, Lucy? She’s new to town and the girls thought it would be good to show her a good summer, make sure her and Xander settle in.’

  Taylor, as ever the quiet, observant type, let her finish.

  ‘She’s staying in the holiday cottages, but Marlene thinks she might move here, given the right opportunities. The cottages can be let long term, so she can extend her stay at a cheaper rate till she finds somewhere else. She worked in a deli back home, but those skills are transferable anywhere really. Retail is very diverse.’

  Her husband was aghast. The woman was a powerhouse, and he could almost hear the whirring of the cogs as her mind ran through the scenarios, lightning quick.

  ‘You know the fundraising afternoon tea party we’re hosting?’ He started to nod along, but she didn’t draw breath. ‘Half the proceeds are going to the fire house, and I just wo
ndered, what do Alan and the boys do exactly?’

  Taylor sat up in bed, bringing her with him and karate-chopping a few pillows for good measure as he got comfy.

  ‘Well, the people who work there are actually called firefighters, and they’re men and women who put out the fires. With water and foam, not by actually fighting them. Do you understand now?’

  The resulting look she gave told him she did, and wasn’t amused.

  ‘What I was asking, is what in the village would be under their remit?’

  ‘You mean, how can you get the new fireman to do things for you?’ Taylor laughed to himself. ‘I know what you’re playing at, missus, I always do, remember? Archie told me about calling them in about the damaged tree. You know, our gardener? The one who cares for the grounds? Poor bloke nearly had a fit at the prospect of losing some good firewood. You going to spill the beans, Miss Marple?’

  She elbowed him and got out of bed, then padded over to her dressing table and brushed her hair. ‘Don’t tease your wife, help her! Didn’t anyone teach you that?’

  He threw a cushion off the bed in response, and it thudded to the floor behind her.

  ‘That’s one, and I have more. Spill, woman.’ He looked around him at the huge king-size bed, which was encased in pillows of various shapes and sizes, with more in a stack on the ottoman at the foot of the bed.

  Agatha had to admit to herself, the whole thing was a bit OTT. Not that she would ever tell him that. She turned back to the mirror, picking up her morning face cream and planting her daily kiss on the photo frames. One photo was a shot of her late husband, standing on the steps of the Mayweather house, and the other a wedding photo of the day she became Mrs Taylor. Both happy days, in such different ways. School friends, she and Taylor had been the best of friends for many years, Taylor being an employee of the estate, just like his father before him. Things had developed from there. Now, they ran the estate together, as they did for many years as friends and work colleagues. They ran it now as husband and wife, and Taylor couldn’t be happier. Even when she was up to her devious shenanigans with the other cronies she hung around with, in the guise of family and community spirit. The woman was like a dragon clutching her eggs. You messed with someone or something she loved in this village, and you would get burned. She could probably teach the fire house a few things, never mind learn more about their vocations.

  ‘Threatening me with pillows?’ She looked over her shoulder at him, one brow arched. ‘A little weak, my dear.’

  Flumph. Thud. Another pastel pink pillow in the shape of a rose bud fired across the room.

  ‘Spill. What’s the deal with the new fireman? Are you matchmaking again?’

  Agatha started to apply her make-up, a little smirk crossing her features. ‘Sam’s a lovely man, but he’s just a little … lost. Yes, lost I think. I know we don’t really know him, but when Amanda moved here we didn’t know her either, and that worked out, didn’t it? We got Benjamin a woman who loves him dearly, and they’re happy.’

  She looked at him in the mirror. ‘We fell in love doing all that matchmaking, so it might be fun to do it again, and it’s different this time. It’s trickier, so we’re being careful. There’s a child involved, and—’

  ‘A child?’ Taylor queried. ‘Whose child?’

  His facial features turned from confusion to mild shock. ‘Not Lucy? You can’t meddle in a marriage, Ags, it’s not right.’

  She flicked the mascara wand down her lashes.

  ‘That’s why we are treading carefully. I’m not daft. Or a home wrecker! We need to get to know Sam, and see what’s what. No harm meant, I promise. Brownie’s honour.’

  Taylor shook his head, throwing the next pillow down into the pile, toppling the lot.

  ‘You were never in the Brownies for long. Brown Owl kicked you out for bringing that frog in!’

  Agatha rose from her dressing table and headed to her walk-in closet to dress.

  ‘Yes I know, Sebastian Taylor, and whose ruddy frog was it! We are doing this, with or without your help.’ She turned in the doorway, blowing him a kiss. ‘I’d rather have it though, even if it happens to come with a frog.’

  He laughed and she headed out. Taylor was in on the plan, so that was the last piece of the team. Now, they just needed to put the plan into action.

  It was Friday, and Sam had been working non-stop at the fire house. He wanted to get his head back into the game, so he’d picked up Norman’s shifts while he was on a cruise with his wife. Today was the first day off he had had for ten days, and he felt like he should be doing something with his day. From the library archives back home, he had researched the local papers from around the time that he was found, but other than the original reporting and some follow-up fluff pieces on how the abandoned baby was faring, there was nothing. Of course, they only had the box to go on, and nothing else. No one ever came forward to claim him, and there were no suspects at the time either. He’d looked through the obituaries around the time of his birth within one year too, just to see if there had been any women who could have fitted the bill, but came up short again. There was nothing about a father anywhere, but he was out there somewhere. Maybe he knew, maybe he didn’t, but since being here, no one had gotten his spidey sense tingling, or commented on his familiarity to someone they knew. Of course, not many people would look at a six-foot-odd bald man with a surprisingly soft voice and a cockney accent and recognise traits or features of people they knew. They didn’t grow them like him in this village, that was evident on his first day of working and living here. Not that they said anything, in fact, everyone had been really lovely.

  He had woken up late, not setting an alarm for once and letting his body get the sleep it needed, so it was after eleven when he finally opened his eyes. He stretched, feeling his muscles pop and stretch as he slowly rose from his slumber. He was feeling rested, and a tad restless. The summer was rolling on, and he was no further forward. No clue as to where to look, or who to ask. Things had been awkward between him and Lucy since the whole naked ladder incident, and when she had contacted him to go back to fit the alarm, things were a little strained. She basically hid downstairs while he worked, and seemed to be in a bit of a rush to get him out of the door after. The husband had been in touch again; he heard her talking to him on the telephone the other night out on the patio. Another conversation that hadn’t gone well. The man wasn’t nice when he got angry. He would come again soon, he knew it. The question wasn’t if but rather when. Last weekend, things had been quiet, probably because he had found something to occupy his mind, something that conveniently made him forget about his wife and child. The man irritated him to death. Anyone who didn’t try to make a family work got his goat big time. Which was precisely why he didn’t put down roots. The fear of this. He needed to stay the hell away from his neighbours, and concentrate on his own plan.

  His phone beeped at the side of his bed. A text. From Lucy. He opened it up and half expected a telling off for his opinion on her marriage. Which was barmy, of course. Instead, it read:

  Xander is going to Marlene’s for the day. Do you want to do something, to find your family? Lucy x

  Was this woman psychic? He read the message over and over, looking for some hidden meaning or clue. It beeped again.

  No problem if you can’t or don’t want to.

  No kiss this time. Maybe she was feeling obliged, and was trying to be nice but get out of it at the same time. He thought of what the day held, him rattling around in the cottage, working out or wondering idly where the answers could be. He tapped out a reply.

  I’m fine for today, if you’re sure it’s still okay with you. I was planning to go for a run first, then have some lunch.

  He hit send and cringed rereading it. Shit! Did that sound like an invite?

  Nothing. He sat watching the screen, hoping for a reply but got nothing. Bollocks. For a fireman, who could get girls just by saying, ‘Hello, I’m a fireman. Want to slide down me pole?�
� he had zero game. Never had, to be honest. The whole dating thing had kind of bypassed him. What would he say on a date? Job, fine … but the rest? He had no answers to the questions that people generally asked on dates. Family, where he was from originally, whether male pattern baldness was hereditary in his family. The truth was, he had no clue. Aside from the genetic testing, which told him he was fine, there was no magic wand to wave to get the answers, or red sparkly shoes to take him home. So he avoided it, and was now seemingly hitting on a married mother who was fleeing her marriage and trying to sort her life out. He thrust back the covers, flinging them across the room, and reached for his running gear. He needed to pound this out on the pavement.

  He was just pulling on his trainers when the text notification rang again. He almost left it there unread. He could go out on a run, go eat, and deal with it later. If he didn’t read it, it wouldn’t ruin his day. He wouldn’t have to respond to it. He was halfway down the stairs when he groaned, stopping dead. With a growl, he headed back to the nightstand, cursing his polite and curious mind.

  Lucy blinked at the reply. Well, that was easy. Her heart had been in her mouth since she sent the text, wondering if she had just made a mistake. She wanted to help him, but there was more to it than that. Iain had been asking to come up, but she wanted him to stay away. When Marlene had offered to take Xander for the day, she wanted to say no. Firstly, because she worried about Xander whenever he wasn’t with her, and two, what the hell would she do with her time? She had no job to go to, she’d finished all the books she had brought, and the cottage was as shiny as a show home. The thought of rattling around on her own didn’t appeal, and she wanted to help him. He deserved her help. He was the definition of a nice guy, and he had helped her already. Since they had arrived in the village, hell, even on the train, he had been there. He was a calming influence, and she felt better just knowing that he was next door.

  Ten minutes later, she was heading out of the door, yoga pants and trainers on, a slouchy top over her vest top. She wasn’t a runner, but she did keep fit. When Xander was at school, and she wasn’t at the deli, she got bored at home. There was only so much cleaning and tidying a woman could do, and her Netflix obsession had been ramping up. Only a few months before their holiday, she had found herself pouring a glass of wine at 11 a.m., safe in the knowledge that Xander was happily gaming in his room, enjoying the weekend reprieve from the school he hated. She only had the one, but when she woke up at half past four in the afternoon, Netflix playing to itself and her lying on the sofa, she made a mental note that day drinking was not something that needed to be on her goal list any time soon. Hence the holiday planning, the yoga sessions at the local gym, and the beginning of the end.