Chapter 2
Cal looked relieved. ‘Phew, for a moment you had me worried. I suddenly thought he might be leading a secret double life.’
He was nice, Mimi could tell; he wasn’t about to say anything bigoted or crass. ‘Mum and Dad got divorced seven years ago, when I was fifteen,’ she said. ‘It was a shock at first, of course it was, but we got through it. And Dad met Marcus four years ago.’
‘Marcus, that’s it.’ Cal nodded, clearly reassured there wasn’t about to be some dramatic EastEnders-style showdown.
‘And yes, they do know I’m coming down. Dad was going to meet me off the five o’clock train. But I left work at midday, caught the earlier one and thought it’d be fun to jump in a cab at the station so I could save him the trip.’
‘A . . . cab?’ Cal looked amused.
‘Well I know that now. I just wasn’t expecting it to be completely deserted. The countryside isn’t my specialist subject.’ Mimi shrugged. ‘Anyway, never mind. I’ve had an adventure instead. And we’re nearly there now. Oh wow, look at it . . . now that’s what I call a view.’
As she’d been speaking, they’d reached the brow of the hill and now Goosebrook was revealed, appearing before them in all its bucolic spring-infused glory. The honeyed Cotswold limestone of the buildings was offset by the abundance of greenery and the bright colours of the flowers in the gardens. The church spire rose into the sky, the roofs of the jumble of houses and cottages were mottled ochre yellow and grey, and children and parents were visible on the village green in front of the church. There were a few shops – not many, Mimi knew – as well as a popular local pub called the Black Swan. And there too, snaking through the village and gleaming silver in the sunlight, was the brook itself, with the old stone bridge arching across it.
‘It’s a pretty nice place to live,’ said Cal, as Otto strained on his lead to reach a butterfly that was taunting him, dancing around just out of his reach.
‘Beautiful. Bit different from London.’ Just breathing in the sparkling, unpolluted air was an experience. Then again, the lack of handy takeaways would take some getting used to. Personally Mimi wasn’t sure she could survive without a Burger King on her doorstep.
‘And how are your dad and Marcus settling in?’
‘They love the countryside. And living here in the Cotswolds. I’m sure everything’s going to be fine,’ said Mimi. ‘It’s just that getting-to-know-people stage, especially in their situation. They want people to like them, but some of the villagers haven’t been . . . you know, as friendly as they’d hoped. Not you, I’m sure,’ she added hastily. ‘It’s just a few of the older people have been a bit stand-offish.’
Cal nodded. ‘I’m sure they have. But it’s not because of the gay thing.’
It was all very well for Cal to say that, but how could he know for sure? ‘No? Dad and Marcus are so nice, though. What else could it be?’
‘Just good old-fashioned tribalism, suspicion of strangers.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s never changed. The general feeling is new people don’t count as villagers until they’ve lived here for a good while. Because what’s the point of bothering to get to know them if they’re just going to up and leave again? Not saying it’s right,’ he added. ‘Just that that’s the way it’s always been. And the older villagers especially resent the ones who buy second homes down here, then leave them standing empty for months on end. Which is what happened to Bay Cottage – your dad’s place – before he and Marcus bought it. That’s the reason they’re wary . . . they don’t want it happening again.’
‘Fair enough. Well, that’s good to know.’ They moved to the side of the road as a van passed them, the driver exchanging a cheery salute with Cal. ‘So how long before they count as proper villagers?’
‘Not too long, only about thirty years.’ He grinned at her. ‘Maybe fifty years for the really suspicious ones. Are you sure I can’t carry that for you?’
‘I’m fine.’ Mimi shook her head; the soles of her feet were burning and the weight of the overnight case was hurting her shoulder, but they were nearly there now. ‘And thanks for the heads-up. I’ll tell them what you said. They’ll be relieved it wasn’t the reason they thought.’
Mimi was relieved too; she felt like an anxious mum, reassured that her shy children would settle into their new school.
Cal said, ‘Things will get easier, I promise. And I hope they do stay. Who knows, we might see the three of you later in the pub.’
‘Dad’s not really a drinker.’ At a guess, the fact that they’d been keeping away from the Black Swan hadn’t helped.
‘Well, they do food too. It’s a sociable place. If they walked in through the doors,’ said Cal, ‘it wouldn’t instantly fall silent like the O.K. Corral.’
His dark brown eyes were glinting with amusement. Mimi said, ‘I’ll tell them that too.’
‘The more they join in, the better things will be. I do understand, though. It must be tricky sometimes.’
‘It has been.’ Mimi nodded.
‘Not easy for you either,’ said Cal. ‘Especially if you were fifteen and it came as a bolt from the blue for you and your mum . . . unless they’d broken up years before. No, don’t answer that, none of my business. Sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘Sometimes I ask too many questions without stopping to wonder if they’re appropriate.’
Mimi had had enough practice by now to know that some people were desperate to hear all the salacious details, whilst others were simply sympathetic to her situation. Cal, she could instinctively tell, fell into the second camp.
Not that the details were remotely salacious anyway.
‘It’s fine,’ she reassured him. ‘Mum and Dad did their best to make it easy for me. Obviously I was devastated when they broke up and Dad moved out, but I didn’t know the real reason behind it. So that bit must have been harder for Mum, because she did know, and when he’d told her it had come as a massive shock. Then about six months later, they sat me down with them and told me. And that was . . . well, weird. Pretty traumatic in one way, but then it kind of made sense, because I hadn’t been able to understand why they couldn’t stay together.’ Mimi paused, still able to recall every moment of that rainy Saturday afternoon. ‘I mean, I went through all the emotions. When you’re that age, anything to do with the idea of your parents’ sex lives is enough to make you want to throw up, so that aspect wasn’t great. But on the other hand, he was still my dad and I loved him to bits.’
‘It must have been hard to cope with,’ said Cal.
‘School was the worst. Some people were fantastic. And others were awful.’ Mimi shuddered. ‘Mainly the boys, who thought it was hilarious and couldn’t stop making fun of me. Well, you can imagine the kind of crap I had to put up with.’
‘Not ideal when you’re that age,’ said Cal.
‘Teenagers can be brutal. You soon learn who your real friends are, I can tell you.’ She pulled a face. ‘It was definitely character-forming.’
‘And I bet the worst culprits were the ones who were secretly battling with their own feelings.’
‘Yes! Exactly that! The captain of the school football team was horrible to me for months, said some really mean things about Dad . . . and last Christmas I saw on Facebook that he was off to LA with his boyfriend. So I sent him a nice message saying I hoped they had a lovely time.’
‘And did he apologise for everything he’d said at school?’
‘Of course not. He might be gay now, but that doesn’t magically stop him from being a massive prat.’
‘Prats are boring.’ Cal grinned. ‘Tell me about you. Whereabouts do you live in London? Somewhere amazing?’
‘Hmm, I wouldn’t call it that.’ Picturing the run-down building that had been all she could afford to share, Mimi imagined plonking it down in the centre of the ultra-rural scene surrounding them. ‘It’s a Victorian hovel in Bermondsey, rented out by a shyster landlord who’s crammed twelve of us into a place big enough for six. But that’s what it’s like in the city if you aren’t loaded, you kind of get used to it. You have to ignore the downsides, the rats and the tenants you’d rather not be sharing with, and just make the most of having somewhere to live. My friend Kendra has the room next to mine and she’s great, so we mainly stick together. And it’s a friendly enough neighbourhood. Bit different to this, mind.’ She indicated the rolling hills and the bobbing fields of wheat or corn or whatever that green stuff was over to the left of them.
‘Well we’re friendly here too, I promise.’ Cal sounded entertained. ‘And how about work? What do you do?’
‘I’m in PR.’ Mimi paused, wondering if he was familiar with the term, because some sheep wranglers might not be.
But he inclined his head and said, ‘Public relations. It’s OK, I know what it means. And have you always done that? Do you love it?’
‘Oh I do. I mean, I’ve always loved working, anyway.’ Mimi glanced over at Otto, who had paused to cock his leg against a clump of dandelions. ‘And I started early too. I used to do three paper rounds when I was at school, then I got into babysitting in a big way. After A levels I took a job in a travel agency, which was great, but after a while it began to feel a bit too office-based and restricting. So then I saw an ad for a position in PR and decided to give it a shot. Well, it was a revelation, it was just . . . perfect!’ She found herself gesturing expansively to convey just how perfect. ‘Because you need to be really organised and efficient, which I am, and you have to think on your feet, which I love doing, and when things go wrong it’s up to you to sort everything out and make it right again . . . ooh, and when you come up with a fantastic plan that works like a dream, you get showered with praise and the clients are thrilled with you for being so clever. It’s just the best feeling in the world!’
Mimi heard the enthusiasm in her own voice and knew she was getting carried away again, but she couldn’t control it, because when you really loved your job as much as she did, it was hard to be laid-back and super-cool about it. ‘OK, don’t laugh,’ she said, because Cal was clearly trying not to. ‘I know I sound like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music, but when I wake up in the morning I honestly can’t wait to get to work. I’d do it for free if I could afford to.’
‘Probably best not to let your bosses know about that,’ said Cal with a smile.
‘I know, but what can I say?’ Her hands were waving again, all by themselves. ‘I was lucky, I found my perfect job. The more effort you put in, the more people appreciate you, and I’m addicted to praise. I mean, right now I’m still one of the juniors in the company, but I know I can work my way up and I can’t wait. Are you still laughing at me?’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it. I think it’s brilliant that you’re so enthusiastic.’ Mimicking her movements, Cal waved his hands as he said the word. ‘And ambitious.’ More gesticulating. ‘And motivated.’ He sidestepped out of reach as she pretended to take a swipe at him, and said, ‘No, really, it’s great.’
‘I’ve found my dream job, and I’m good at it.’ Mimi hoped she didn’t sound overconfident. Since starting at the agency she’d had to learn to be confident in order to promote the people and products she was being paid to promote. Growing up in a household where everyone was self-deprecating, it had been quite the learning curve; in addition, she’d needed to learn not to be shy about promoting herself. In their business, as her bosses were so fond of announcing, shrinking violets need not apply.
‘And what do you do when you aren’t working?’ asked Cal.
‘I think about working,’ Mimi said honestly. ‘I spend time planning brilliant campaigns and coming up with fantastic new ways to boost our clients’ products and profiles.’
‘What about a social life? Or is that it?’
He’d said it jokingly, but she shrugged and nodded. ‘Pretty much. Kendra and I go out occasionally, but we’re both as bad as each other. Right now, our careers take top priority.’
‘Good for you.’ Cal nodded approvingly. ‘So no boyfriends?’
There hadn’t been a boyfriend for months, which was no bad thing, given her abysmal track record. Life was so much easier and less fraught when you were single. She shook her head. ‘What can I tell you? I’m a hopeless case, a work-obsessed spinster. Once my career’s properly up and running, maybe I’ll find someone. Except I might be ancient by then and look like a wizened old tortoise, and no one will want me. Which will serve me right.’
Cal was grinning at her. ‘Oh I’m sure you’ll find someone. For every wizened female tortoise there’s a male tortoise who thinks she’s irresistible.’ He glanced round and said, ‘Move onto the verge . . .’
A car was coming up behind them; Mimi stepped aside and looked over her shoulder, exclaiming as she recognised the dusty, mud-splashed blue Volvo. ‘Who’s that, d’you know?’
The Volvo sailed past, its driver pointedly ignoring them. Cal said, ‘It’s Henrietta Mercer. She lives at Fox Court. Why?’
‘She got off the train at the same time as me. When I found out there weren’t any taxis, I asked her for a lift.’
‘Brave. And what did she say to that?’
‘Told me to walk.’
He burst out laughing. ‘Sounds about right. Just because you own the biggest house in the village, it doesn’t automatically make you a charming person. And it certainly hasn’t in Henrietta’s case. So don’t worry,’ he added, ‘it isn’t just you.’
Mimi grinned, glad now that the flinty-eyed older woman hadn’t agreed to give her a lift; she’d much preferred meeting one of the friendlier inhabitants of Goosebrook. Not to mention his human owner.
‘What’s funny?’ said Cal.
‘Nothing. I just made a joke in my head.’
‘Oh? And am I going to hear it?’
He really did have an incredible smile; not overly flirtatious, but the joyous, inclusive kind that made you feel better for being on the receiving end of it. Just when she’d been so convinced she didn’t need male attention, too. ‘Maybe one day,’ said Mimi. ‘The punchline still needs work. Speaking of work, I haven’t asked what you do.’
‘I design garden buildings, bespoke summer houses. Only a small company, but it’s great, working with clients to create something they’ll love for years to come. Here we are, then. This is Goosebrook.’
They’d reached the main street now; the stone war memorial stood directly ahead of them in the centre of the village, with cottages and shops lining the road beyond.
‘Beautiful.’ Mimi paused. It looked like a film set.
‘Well, we’re going in this direction,’ said Cal as Otto, tail wagging like a metronome, strained on his lead to head up the lane to their left. ‘It’s been good to meet you. Say bye, Otto.’
‘Woof,’ said Otto.
‘Oh my God, I love that!’ Bending down, Mimi ruffled his ears. ‘Clever boy!’
‘It’s his party trick. Actually, it’s mine too. Say it to me.’
‘Bye,’ said Mimi.
‘Woof,’ said Otto.
‘Woof,’ said Cal.
‘You’re both extremely talented.’ Mimi kept a straight face. ‘I’m impressed.’
He grinned. ‘Right, we’re off. Your dad’s place is down there, just past the old schoolhouse. And we might see you over at the pub later, yes? See what you can do. It’s pizza-and-quiz night tonight.’
He was nice. Sometimes you could meet a complete stranger and just know you really liked them. And he had an adorable dog too. Win-win. Experiencing that exciting zing of physical interest – all the more thrilling for being so completely unexpected, given recent events – Mimi said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it happens. Leave it to me.’
‘You’re here!’ Marcus did a double-take when he pulled open the duck-egg-blue front door. ‘We were meant to be picking you up from the station at five thirty, weren’t we? Did Dan get it horribly wrong?’
‘No, he didn’t. Nothing went wrong.’ Mimi resisted the temptation to blurt out that everything had gone right. Instead, she gave him a big hug and said, ‘I caught the earlier train and walked.’
‘You got caught in that downpour too! Oh dear, look at your hair . . . and your mascara’s all over the shop . . .’
Oh bum, was it? And in her head she’d imagined herself looking rain-swept, but in an attractively dishevelled kind of way. Shaking her head like a spaniel, she said, ‘I met someone from the village and we had a lovely time rescuing a sheep—’
‘Darling, let go of that strange man and come here. My turn for a hug.’ Having materialised beside Marcus, her father wrapped his arms around her. ‘It’s so good to see you. We can’t wait to show you everything we’ve done to this place – you’re going to be so impressed.’
They were justly proud of all their hard work. Thirty minutes later, Mimi had been given the full guided tour of Bay Cottage, the home they’d spent the last three months lovingly restoring and redecorating. Now, installed on a high wooden stool in the kitchen with an enormous gin and tonic, she said, ‘Listen, that guy Cal told me it’s pizza-and-quiz night over at the pub tonight, and he said we should give it a try, so I told him we’d see him there later.’
‘No need.’ Already shaking his head, her dad opened the fridge and took out a selection of wrapped packages. ‘Dinner’s right here, we’re doing all your favourites – seared king scallops wrapped in bacon, then fillet steak with tomato salad and asparagus.’
‘And dauphinoise potatoes,’ Marcus chimed in triumphantly. ‘Followed by lemon tart with raspberry sorbet. Everything you love best.’
Oh, their lit-up faces. She couldn’t ask them to put the food back into the fridge – they’d arranged it as a huge treat, specially for her.
‘And I get to sit here like the Queen whilst you two do all the hard work?’ The ice cubes clinked as she lifted her glass. ‘Well that sounds just about perfect.’
Later, as they ate the delicious dinner, Mimi ventured, ‘Maybe we could go to the pub tomorrow night.’
‘Ah, but we’ve managed to book a table at Le Champignon Sauvage in Cheltenham.’ Her dad looked triumphant. ‘It has two Michelin stars! You’ll love it there, it’s amazing.’
She nodded. ‘OK, but when I was talking to Cal, he said people would find it easier to get to know you if they saw more of you. Popping into the pub every now and again might help a bit . . . I mean, that’d be nice, wouldn’t it?’
‘I don’t know . . .’ Her dad was already looking doubtful, shaking his head. ‘They’re still not sure about us. We don’t want any awkwardness.’
Was this how it felt to be a parent, having to cajole a shy child into making friends with the other kids at school? Mimi tried again. ‘Cal said they’re just wary because you’re new to the village and you might end up only spending the occasional weekend down here. He told me they don’t care that you’re gay, that’s no problem.’
‘Hmm, it feels like it might be a problem for some of them.’ Marcus sounded unenthusiastic. ‘It’s all very well this guy saying it isn’t, but we don’t even know who he is.’
Mimi frowned. ‘He guessed who I was, so he’s seen Dad around. He recognised me because we have the same eyes.’
‘Well we haven’t been introduced to anyone called Cal,’ Marcus said with an air of finality.
‘But maybe if you called into the pub, you’d be introduced to lots of people! And I bet loads of them are really nice,’ Mimi pleaded. ‘You just have to give them a chance to get to know you.’
‘Easier said than done,’ Marcus said drily. ‘Especially when you overhear people muttering behind your back in the shop.’
‘Are you serious?’ Mimi was outraged. ‘Show me who they are and I’ll have a word with them. What a bloody nerve—’
‘Shh, don’t get upset. And please don’t say anything to anyone.’ Her gentle father, who hated confrontation of any kind, reached for her hand. ‘We’re fine as we are for now. Just let us settle in gradually and deal with things in our own way. It’ll all work out in the end, I’m sure, and there’s no hurry as far as we’re concerned. We’ve got each other.’ He exchanged a contented smile with Marcus. ‘And that’s what really counts, isn’t it? There’s plenty of time for everything else to fall into place.’