Chapter 32
I needn’t have worried about how difficult it was going to be to avoid Will, because as Mags solicitously drove me home from the hospital and then tucked me up in bed, she explained he had decided to take a couple of weeks’ holiday to visit an old friend abroad. I can’t deny I was relieved that he had gone.
‘From what I can gather,’ she said, checking the jug of water next to my bed was icy cold, ‘he’s feeling pretty ashamed about what happened.’
I didn’t mention anything that Matt had told me about why Will had been thrown out of the army or how terrifying he had looked during the fight. I didn’t want her to think I had picked a side, because I hadn’t. It was up to Will if he wanted folk to know about his past and it was also his decision to choose that moment to take a break.
At least his absence would give me time to think things through without his distracting presence, and as Matt was temporarily out of action as well, I was looking forward to enjoying Cuckoo Cottage in relative peace and isolation for the first time since I had arrived. With every passing day it was looking more and more likely that I would have to sell up, so the opportunity to make some special memories of my own to take with me was most welcome.
‘But we don’t even know that it was Will who hit me,’ I reminded Mags. ‘It could just as easily have been Matt, and besides, whoever it was, it was an accident.’
‘I don’t know why you would think that would make him feel any better about what happened,’ Mags tutted.
‘Well, Matt seems to have resigned himself to the situation without a fuss.’
‘Will isn’t making a fuss,’ said Mags.
‘What is he doing, then?’
Mags sighed and walked over to the window to check on Ed who was cleaning out the chicken coop and keeping an eye on Minnie for me.
‘He just thought you’d be pleased to see the back of him for a bit,’ she said eventually. ‘The pair of you haven’t exactly had a smooth ride since you first met and now, just when things were getting better between you, this has happened.’
‘But running away won’t solve anything,’ I said, ignoring the little voice that was suddenly so keen to remind me that if I moved on then that was exactly what I would be doing.
‘No, it won’t,’ agreed Mags, ‘but it will give you both some distance from one another and hopefully some perspective. He really likes you, Lottie,’ she added meaningfully, ‘and he doesn’t want to lose your friendship.’
I didn’t say anything else. I didn’t think it would matter how long he disappeared, for I would never really be able to come to terms with the horrific things Matt had told me that he had done. Part of me was desperate to try and make some sense of it by talking it through with Mags, but the greater part was still slightly concussed and not up to such an important conversation.
‘You look tired,’ she said, turning back to the bed. ‘Shall I take Minnie home with me again for tonight and see how you feel about having her back in the morning?’
‘No,’ I said, closing my eyes, ‘but thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you these last few days, Mags. I really appreciate your help, and Ed’s, but I’ll be all right on my own now.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ I nodded. ‘I’m just going to potter about around here for a few days.’
‘And do you promise to ring if you need anything?’
‘I do.’
The next couple of days, in spite of the occasionally pounding head and multicoloured bruises, were the best I had had since moving to Wynbridge. I managed to reassure Mags that I was fine via frequent but brief phone calls during the evenings and the days were spent slowly pulling together the threads and putting the finishing touches on The Cherry Tree Café caravan.
By the time I had finished I was feeling extremely proud of the results. The electrics and plumbing hadn’t needed tweaking at all and consequently this was the first complete refurbishment I had undertaken independently, apart from the online ordering Jemma had taken responsibility for, and it had turned out beautifully.
As I stood back to admire my handiwork and silently thanked Eric and John, my former employees, for equipping me with far more skills than I initially realised I had, I couldn’t deny the twinge of sadness in my heart. Were it not for the ridiculous agricultural restrictions, this kind of project would have played a major part in my future and I would have been rather happy about that.
The splendid isolation I was enjoying didn’t last long. As soon as Matt was well enough to drive, he arrived back on the scene, keen to finish the work he had started and, to my mind, milk the situation for all it was worth. It seemed we could barely have a conversation without him mentioning either selling my beloved vans before the summer ended and prices took a nosedive, or raking over what Will had accused him of. Truth be told, by the end of the week I was feeling more annoyed by the fact that he wouldn’t drop the subject than guilty for what I had said in passing to my neighbour which had been the cause of all the ructions.
‘How do you fancy a trip to the pub tonight?’ asked Mags at the end of the week. ‘I haven’t seen you since I tucked you up in bed the day you came home from hospital and I want to say thank you in advance for agreeing to have Ed for the night this weekend.’
‘I’m not sure,’ I began.
‘Don’t tell me you aren’t up to it, Lottie Foster,’ she said bluntly, ‘because every time I’ve driven by your place this week those barns have been open, so I know you haven’t been sitting on your backside doing nothing. You’re obviously up to something.’
I couldn’t help but smile at her clever observation.
‘I’ll pick you up in half an hour,’ she said, then hung up.
It was another warm evening in Wynbridge, but as I sat at a table in the bar of The Mermaid, discreetly trying to cover my fading bruises with my hair, I could feel a slight chill in the air. The place was pretty quiet, even for a week night, but there was an unusually unwelcome atmosphere that I hoped my arrival hadn’t caused.
I had already spotted and heard the usual furtive mutterings and glances from the bar and looked among the customers, wondering if anyone present had been responsible for the gossip Matt had mentioned but that I hadn’t noticed, during my last visit.
‘So is Liam looking after Ed tonight?’ I asked Mags as she came over to the table with our drinks.
‘No,’ she said, ‘he’s spending the evening with George. They’re planning when would be the best time to start helping you renovate Gwen’s old vegetable patch actually.’
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I probably wouldn’t be there to enjoy next year’s harvest now.
‘I think they’re hoping to get it cleared this autumn, then mulch it and leave it to settle over the winter ready to dig over and plant up in the spring, or something like that.’
‘That sounds like the right idea,’ I said, taking a sip of Diet Coke. ‘Just the sort of thing my grandad would have suggested.’
‘So have you heard from Will?’ Mags asked.
‘Sorry?’ I frowned, thrown by the sudden change in conversation.
‘Has he phoned, sent a postcard?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘of course not. I haven’t been expecting him to. Has he been in touch with you, then?’
‘Yes,’ she said, the colour rising in her cheeks as she carried on. ‘He phoned this afternoon. He’s the reason I’ve asked you out tonight, actually.’
‘I don’t understand,’ I said, looking about me and fully expecting him to walk in.
Part of me wished he would. I had missed him more than I thought I would, given what I now knew about him, and when the door swung open I held my breath, but it was just Chris. Perhaps Mags had been right, even though she wasn’t privy to all the horrid details; perhaps the time apart had helped me gain some perspective about the situation after all.
‘I thought you said you wanted to thank me in advance for entertaining Ed while you and Liam enjoy some private time this weekend?’
‘Yes,’ she said, studying the menu on the table. ‘I do.’
‘But?’
‘But what?’
‘Well there’s obviously some other reason why you’ve dragged me out and I’m guessing now that it has something to do with Will, yes?’
‘Yes,’ she said again as she carefully put the menu back down. ‘There are a couple of things he’s asked me to talk to you about, Lottie.’
‘So why couldn’t you do it back at the cottage?’ I asked.
‘I just thought a change of scene would do you good.’
‘Well, come on then,’ I said, ignoring the fact that she had my welfare at heart and just wanting to hear what she had to say. ‘What is it?’
This was like trying to get blood out of a stone. She shook her head and I began to panic. Admittedly I hadn’t known her for long, but I knew when there was something wrong, and judging by the look in her eyes and the colour of her face this was very definitely one of those occasions.
‘Hello, Lottie dear,’ cut in Chris before she had the chance to say anything else. ‘How are you? I heard you’d been in the wars.’
‘Hello, Chris,’ I said, looking up at him, ‘just a bit of a misunderstanding, that’s all.’
‘So I see,’ he said, eyeing up my bruises. ‘I bet you wish you’d let me get on with the matchmaking now, don’t you?’
‘They weren’t fighting over me!’ I laughed, keen to dispel any rumours that were being bandied about.
‘Oh right,’ chuckled Chris. ‘You sure about that, are you?’
‘Quite sure,’ I said firmly. ‘It was just crossed wires about some work that I’m having done at the cottage, that’s all.’
‘And how are you finding life out in the sticks? I’m sorry I haven’t found time to call in as often as I’d promised. I hardly know where this summer’s gone.’
‘That’s all right,’ I said. ‘I know how busy you and Marie are. It’s been lovely,’ I told him enthusiastically, although not entirely truthfully. ‘It’s everything I hoped it would be.’
‘And much more, from what I’m given to understand,’ he added quietly with a frown.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I think Chris is talking about your new business venture,’ said Mags under her breath.
‘My new what?’ I squeaked.
How on earth did either she or Chris know about that? I knew Amber wouldn’t have told anyone and I hoped I hadn’t been going about telephoning all and sundry and spreading the word myself since I’d had my bump on the head.
‘I have to say it was a bit of a surprise,’ said Chris, rubbing his chin and looking around the bar, ‘and I dare say you’ve worked out that it accounts for the less than friendly welcome you’ve no doubt received here tonight.’
I followed his gaze to the row of bar stools and discovered quite a few people had turned around and tuned into our conversation. I looked back at Mags, who shrugged her shoulders and looked apologetic.
‘Do you really know about what I’ve been planning?’ I asked.
‘We all know!’ called Jim from behind the bar.
‘I had no idea they knew,’ said Mags urgently, grabbing my wrist. ‘I never would have suggested coming here tonight if I thought it was going to be a problem. I had no idea it was already common knowledge.’
‘What was common knowledge?’ I demanded.
‘That you’re going to turn that field of yours into a massive campsite,’ said Jim.
‘That you’re planning to clear the whole area and have it tarmacked over so you can squeeze in as many touring vans and motorhomes as you can,’ chipped in Chris.
‘And drive off all the wildlife in the process,’ added the man who had tackled me at the Cherry Tree.
‘And make the drove road even more hazardous to drive down!’
I sat open-mouthed, too shocked to respond.
‘But you’ll find you’ve got a fight on your hands now, Missy,’ Evelyn harshly added as she took her place next to Jim behind the bar. ‘Folk around here won’t stand for it. Even though you’re no doubt going to try and convince us the extra visitors will be good for the cash registers and bring more business to town. It’s too much!’
‘Who has been saying this?’ I shouted. ‘Who has told you this is what I had planned for my land?’
‘Will!’ they chorused.
Even Mags mouthed his name.
‘Well, I can tell you right now,’ I said, blinking back my tears and feeling determined to stand my ground, ‘he’s wrong.’
‘Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you?’ You were probably hoping to keep the whole thing quiet until you’d got planning permission!’
‘I have no intention of applying for planning permission,’ I insisted, ‘and I would never consider clearing that field or setting up anything as destructive as what you’re all suggesting.’
‘Yeah, right!’
‘And even if I did want to use the place for something different, I couldn’t because of the agricultural restrictions which are tied to it.’
‘The what?’ said a voice behind me.
‘The rules and regulations that are going to stop me doing what I actually want to do and which is absolutely nothing like what has been suggested here tonight!’ I said, spinning round and finding myself face to face with David Miller. ‘David,’ I gasped.
‘Lottie,’ he said, looking thoroughly confused, ‘what are you talking about?’
‘The ridiculous regulations which have put a stop to me earning a living from Cuckoo Cottage and its land.’
‘But . . . ’
‘The rules that mean I’m going to have to sell up next year and move on, just as you,’ I sobbed, pointing at the aggressive ringleader, ‘said I would.’
‘Lottie!’ said David, shaking his head. ‘There are no agricultural restrictions tied to Cuckoo Cottage.’
‘What?’
‘There are no restrictions,’ he repeated. ‘I explained that to Matt ages ago. He assured me that he was going to tell you.’