Mick and the band stayed for longer than anyone expected, especially Annie. She seemed to be run off her feet with all the additional work. But told Eleanor she didn’t mind.
Eleanor had to agree that they were all quite nice people, once you got past the flirting and the double entendres.
The lawn was so huge that the band were able to set up a large area for football and enjoyed a kick-around most days. Finally, having ditched their leather for shorts and T-shirts, they were able to relax and enjoy themselves.
The only slight blip in the happiness was Mick’s latest girlfriend, a peroxide blonde called Raquel.
‘Actually, it’s spelt R-A-C-K-E-L-L-E,’ she announced within five minutes of arriving. ‘Is this Pimm’s made with zero-calorie lemonade?’
Rackelle’s demands were far greater than anyone else, from what Eleanor could see. Wasps and flies in their bedroom needed to be eradicated immediately. Her nail polish required frequent upkeep. Her stilettoes kept getting stuck in the lawn.
‘Can’t you have it tarmacked over?’ she asked, picking at the grass on her spindly heels. ‘These are Louboutins.’
As soon as she was out of earshot, Annie grabbed Mick by the elbow. ‘How long is she going to be with us?’ she hissed.
‘Not long, love. She’s nearly past her best before date already.’
Annie’s main complaint was that Rackelle slept in until gone lunchtime each day.
‘It's very hard to make beds when they're full of people,’ she moaned to Eleanor.
‘Then don’t worry about it,’ said Eleanor. ‘It’s a home not a hotel.’
At least Rackelle seemed to like her creams and soaps.
‘This is sick,’ she announced, holding up one of Eleanor’s soaps one afternoon. ‘Where did it come from?’
Eleanor then had to produce various different ingredients for Rackelle to choose from.
‘At least she’s placed a large order,’ said Megan later. ‘Make sure you get payment in cash though.’
But Eleanor’s worst complaint about Rackelle was her endless flirting with Tom. She obviously felt that her time with Mick was nearly at an end and had decided to move onto the next, far bigger celebrity. She was always pawing at Tom with her long fingernails and thrusting her considerable chest at him.
Thankfully Annie had created a secret hideaway for Eleanor and Tom to sneak away for some privacy. She had dug out some old rugs and striped towels to lounge on in the shade of a large oak tree near the river. Hidden from the house, it was a place where they could both relax.
‘And it’s just a little bit romantic,’ Annie had told her with a wink.
Eleanor groaned. She was having enough troubles dealing with her own feelings for Tom under normal circumstances. Let alone a place with extra romance added.
*
Tom was well aware that he had become the focus of Rackelle’s clamber up the fame list. And he wanted nothing to do with it. So he was polite but kept her at arm’s length.
Thankfully, she was beginning to drive everyone mad and was rumoured, by Mick, to be leaving shortly.
However, even Rose’s easy temperament was being tested.
‘Do you have gluten-free bread?’ Tom heard Rackelle ask one morning.
‘No, we don’t,’ said Rose, in a firm tone. ‘This is Willow Tree Hall, dear. Not Soho.’
So once Annie had shown him the private space that she had set up in the woods, Tom found that he was looking forward to spending each evening alone. Or, preferably, with Eleanor.
The setting sun could be seen through the leafy branches of the trees all around, birdsong filling the air. Butterflies fluttered along the riverbanks. A kingfisher looking for minnows darted across the water. A soft breeze tried to cool the temperature.
Once Dylan had completed his search of the river for sticks, he would collapse to sleep at the bottom of his favourite tree nearby. And Eleanor would be scribbling down notes about a new ingredient or bringing out some ribbons that she used to decorate her soaps to try out various bows. Tom was touched that she was using the ones from his gran’s sewing box.
Tom would spend the evening writing his songs, scribbling lyrics on a notepad. The words were coming thick and fast now. He could barely keep up with them.
And when they weren’t working, they were talking. In the relaxed privacy of their special place, Eleanor finally began to open up about her dad. How he had left her mum for some twenty-one-year-old actress. And then a model.
‘He’s had a revolving door of relationships ever since,’ she told him one evening. ‘You know how fickle celebrities can be.’
As the silence stretched out, she glanced up at Tom who was smiling at her.
‘Not you, I didn’t mean you,’ she blustered.
His smile grew wider.
‘I was just talking about my dad,’ she said, beginning to look frantic.
‘You’re okay,’ he told her. ‘I was just having you on.’
She lobbed a ribbon at him before she relaxed and giggled.
In turn, he told her about growing up in foster homes. About sleeping rough and about his gran. He thought how much she would have liked Eleanor. Hopefully approved of her.
As the evening dusk came and the owls hooted in the trees, it became even more magical in their private idyll.
One night, Eleanor had brought a couple of cold bottles of lager with her for them to enjoy.
After watching her struggle to undo the screw top, Tom took the bottle from her and easily opened it.
‘Thanks,’ she said, as he handed it back to her. ‘You’re my hero.’
He shook his head. ‘I think we have to be our own heroes in this life.’ He stared into her soft green eyes. ‘But it helps to have friends too.’
‘Is that what we are?’ she asked, her voice suddenly soft. ‘Just friends?’
He couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward. ‘Good friends,’ he told her.
And then he reached out to stroke her cheek. Her skin was so smooth and her lips were so tempting that he couldn’t stop himself. So he leaned all the way in and kissed her. It was as good as it had been the first time.
When they finally drew apart, she smiled and told him, ‘I don’t normally kiss my friends like that.’
‘That’s because you’ve never had a friend like me before,’ he replied, leaning in once more.
But the sound of someone approaching made them both draw apart. Arthur and Mick appeared along the path.
‘I was just showing Mick here our favourite fishing spot,’ said Arthur.
‘Great,’ said Tom, taking a step away from her.
‘Super,’ said Eleanor, trying to look as casual as possible.
Mick flashed them a wicked grin as if he had correctly guessed what had just been interrupted.
As Arthur and Mick walked to the water’s edge, with Dylan suddenly waking up to show them the way, Tom grabbed Eleanor’s hand.
He pulled her close to whisper in her ear, ‘One of these days, there won’t be an audience or any interruption when I kiss you.’
She turned her head to look at him. ‘And then what?’ she asked, with a soft smile.
He didn’t need to reply but merely squeezed her hand before joining the others by the river.