Time since last Internet usage: 1 week, 3 days, 19 hours, 25 minutes and 1 second.
‘And if there are any problems, Rosie, the owner, is going to be back from the builders’ merchants in half an hour or so, and she’ll be working in the bathroom all day,’ I say confidently to one of the carpenters, who have finally come to install the windows and doors.
‘Great. Thanks, Daisy. I’ll crack on, then.’
The past week, I’ve gone from never having spoken to a workman, to getting quite good at organising them. Clearly, all the years of watching Grand Designs has paid off.
I turn my attention back to my Gantt Chart on the kitchen table, and I highlight carpenters on site. I can’t help but smile that, now the project has been whipped into shape, it’s coming along nicely. I might not be able to organise my own life, but it seems that I have no problem project managing a major renovation.
I pick up my cup of coffee and curl my hands around it for warmth as I try and work out what I’m going to do next. Rosie and Alexis headed out to look at en-suite options, and I didn’t really fancy spending my morning looking at different loos. The carpenters are going to be in and out of the rooms doing the doors and windows, so I can’t do any painting. Rosie suggested I look at the leaflets for local B. & B.s and holiday rentals to research the competition, and I’m just trying to motivate myself to pick them up.
There’s a tap at the door and I’m instantly relieved of the distraction. I open it, expecting to see a builder, but instead Jack’s standing before me.
‘Morning,’ I say cheerily.
‘Morning,’ he replies, a slight smile on his face. This is progress from his usual grimace. We stand there for a second and in the end I break the silence.
‘Did you want to come in for a cup of tea?’ I say, holding the door open further for him to come in.
‘Um, no, thanks. I’m just taking Buster for a walk.’
‘OK, then,’ I say, searching his face for any clue as to why he’s standing on our doorstep.
‘I was wondering,’ he says eventually, ‘I mean, I’m sure you’re really busy with the renovation, but I saw Rosie and Alexis driving off earlier on so I thought you might be free, and I’m going for a walk with Buster. I thought you might want to come with us. I’m going up to Angel Hill, which is up at the top of the valley. There’s a track that leads up on a gradual incline.’
For the first time since I’ve met him, he seems flustered, and I feel that the tables have turned, as it’s usually me who feels out of my comfort zone. It’s funny, I feel as if we’ve got to know each other quite well with our jokey letters, but I sense that today he’s nervous.
‘I thought you might want to test out your new kit,’ he says, pointing at me, before whipping his hand back into his pocket.
Instinctively, I look down at the new hiking trousers and comfy fleece that I’m wearing, and I put a hand on my hip as if I’m doing a catalogue shoot.
‘Well,’ I say, looking over at the stack of leaflets on the table and then back out the front door where I can see a full blue sky, ‘that sounds like a great idea. Come in while I dig out my walking boots.’
Jack comes in as I hunt around the kitchen.
‘This looks impressive,’ he says, pointing at our workflow plan.
‘I’m pretty pleased with it,’ I say as I sit down on the stairs to slip my boots on and lace them up. ‘Although, to be honest, there’s not a lot to it. Just listing the work that needs to be done and getting it in the right order. From then on, it’s chasing everyone to make sure they stick to the right timetable. Luckily, it’s not like a new build and most of the structural work’s been done already, or else there’d be a nightmare juggling contractors and contingency. Not to mention the weather. All our jobs are inside, thank goodness.’
‘Yeah, I guess that makes a big difference. Whenever I watch Grand Designs they always seem to have torrential rain for weeks when they’re trying to get the roof on.’
‘I know, they do, don’t they?’ I say, relieved that we’re not at the mercy of the Cumbrian weather, as we’d be massively behind schedule by now.
‘I’ll just leave Rosie a note to tell her I’ve gone out,’ I say, scribbling something down. I keep straining my ears, listening for the rumble of the Land Rover. I want to get away before she returns as I’m sure she and her meddling would have a field day that I’m going out with Jack on a hike. That, and I don’t want Alexis to invite himself along. It’s not that I don’t enjoy spending time with him, but I’ve been trying to keep my distance. Ever since our little sketch to Rupert, he’s been ever more tactile with me. Of course, I’m flattered by the attention, but, not only is Rosie right – it’s not a good idea when we’re all under the same roof – I also don’t want Jack to see him act that way and presume that something is going on between us.
I poke my head into the lounge and tell the carpenters I’m popping out, before I prop the note for Rosie up against my coffee cup. I then practically bundle Jack out the door.
‘Someone’s excited about the walk,’ he says to me.
‘Uh-huh. I can’t wait to test these beauties out,’ I say shaking my foot, which, with the extra weight, takes a whole lot more effort than usual. They feel like gravity boots.
‘I’m sure you’ll notice a difference with the Gortex. I might have to get you paddling through a couple of streams just to test them.’
‘Um, I think I’ll stick to dry land, thanks.’ I look down at my feet on the muddy path, ‘or what’s supposed to be dry land under all these puddles.’
Jack smiles and then opens a gate and we start to walk along the edge of the field. We walk for a while in companionable silence, mainly as I’m trying to avoid stepping in sheep poo while trying to stay vertical. I watch Buster as he zigzags along, investigating each and every smell thoroughly. Every so often he bounds over to us and loops behind us as if to round us up and check we’re still following.
‘Does he ever get tired?’ I ask. I’m exhausted just watching him.
‘Believe it or not, he sleeps most of the day. As you open the door and his paws cross the threshold he turns into a puppy, but I guarantee that the minute I light the fire in my cottage this afternoon he’ll curl up on his blanket in front of it and he’ll not move until I go to bed.’
I watch him dart to the other end of the field, scaring off a pair of magpies, and Jack’s right, I don’t believe him.
‘So, have you got any pets at home? I’m guessing you don’t have a dog or else you would have brought it, but a cat, maybe?’
‘I’m a single woman therefore I should own a cat?’ I say raising an eyebrow.
‘I didn’t mean it like that. But now that you mention it, I’m sure you could be a crazy cat lady.’
I shoot him a warning look and he smiles.
‘I just thought that, with working in London, a cat would be an easier pet to have.’
‘To be honest, I can barely feed and look after myself when I’m working. I doubt I’d be able to keep a goldfish alive, let alone something that actually remembers it has an owner.’
‘Your job’s full on, then?’
I nod. I hesitate for a moment before I realise I’ve got to correct him. As much as I’d like to pretend I’m still gainfully employed, I’ve got to come to terms with the fact that I’m not any longer.
‘My job was full on. That’s why I’m here with Rosie. I sort of had to leave my work.’
‘Voluntarily or forcibly?’
‘Um, I guess forcibly.’
I detect a note of pity in his voice and I cringe. This is exactly why it was a good idea to get away from everything. I can’t imagine having to tell everyone what happened.
We’re silent for a moment as I take in the scenery. Jack was right about the gentle incline; we’ve already gone quite far uphill and I’d barely noticed. We get to the end of the field, and we climb over a stile into a small wood. Jack holds his hand out for me to jump down and I gratefully take it as I steady myself.
‘So, are you looking for a new job?’ asks Jack.
‘It’s too hard at the moment without the Internet. I should probably start looking soon, though, as I don’t want to have too big a gap on my CV.’
I sigh. Without the Internet I can convince myself that it was one tiny tweet and that everyone will have forgotten about it by now. I’m totally fantasising that I’ll walk straight into another job, when in reality I won’t know until I start trying if I’m going to be able to carry on in marketing. The digital detox and the renovations have been great distractions from the muddle my life is in, but sooner or later I’m going to have to face the real world. I can’t hide forever.
‘What is it that you do?’
‘I’m a marketing account manager, so I oversee the materials that clients send their customers or investors. You know, end-of-year financial reports and shareholder updates.’
It’s hard to imagine that something that sounds so simple could take up my whole life.
‘And that’s what you’re going to get another job in?’
‘Yes,’ I say without even thinking about it. ‘I mean, it’s the only thing I know how to do, and at my age I can’t really be changing careers.’
‘At your age,’ he says chuckling. ‘Aren’t you still in your twenties?’
‘Actually, I turned thirty-one last month.’
‘Right, well, you do realise that you probably still have another thirty-four years left of work? I’m pretty sure that gives you plenty of time for a career change.’
‘For a man maybe,’ I say rolling my eyes, ‘but if I started something new I’d probably have to retrain and then start at the bottom and work my way up. There’d be a drop in salary, which would mean having to live in a shared house as I wouldn’t be able to afford to live on my own. And not to mention that I’d want to be in a decent position when I go on maternity leave.’
‘Are you . . .?’ starts Jack as he looks at me in confusion.
‘Of course not, but I am thirty-one, so I’m guessing that if I do meet someone and we want to have kids, then I’m going to have to start in the next ten years.’
Jack’s quiet for a minute while he takes it all in. ‘You know, you could still do all of that. Maybe you just need to move out of London where things are cheaper and you might not have to give up so much.’
‘Oh right, I’ll just pack up my life and move somewhere completely random where I know no one,’ I say, half laughing.
‘That’s what I did. I came up here on a walking holiday with some mates, saw the cottage was for sale and bought it. Before that I lived in Islington.’
My eyes almost pop out of my head.
‘What?’ he says, laughing. ‘Do I not look like someone who could come from London? Believe it or not, I used to work in Canary Wharf.’
‘You were a trader?’ I say in disbelief.
‘No, far from it.’
I’m about to quiz him more about what he did, but we’ve reached the end of the wood and we’ve found ourselves on top of a ridge.
‘Now, this is Angel Hill,’ he says, walking along to get out of the tree line.
‘Oh wow,’ I say, as I spin round on my heels taking in the 360-degree panoramic views of the valley. I can spot the farm nestled in its dip and it looks the size of a piece of Lego from here. The village houses made up of the dark grey slabs seem to merge into one, making it look like one giant building.
‘This is incredible,’ I say. So much better than the view from the last hill, and as I’m not hanging precariously off a cliff, I’m able to appreciate it too.
‘I thought you’d like it. There’s a bench up here if you want to sit down for a bit?’
He leads us along the ridge until we get under an oak tree, and there’s a small bench carved from a tree underneath it. The brass plaque dedication reads ‘In Loving Memory of Angela’.
‘I wonder who Angela was,’ I say almost in a whisper.
‘She was Rodney’s wife. She died of breast cancer just before I moved here.’
‘I didn’t realise he was a widower,’ I say, realising just how little I know about him, and, again, making me feel even more guilty for trying to use him for his Internet the other day.
‘I can see why he picked this spot for a bench, it’s so peaceful here.’
Jack nods. ‘And they call it Angel Hill as you feel as if you’re looking down on everything from up here.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ I say, as it catches in my throat.
‘I know we all joke about him being an amorous farmer, but I think it’s only as he misses Angela so much. He still comes up here to be near her.’
I blink back a tear as I imagine Rodney sitting in this very spot.
‘So you and Rodney have always been close?’
‘Uh-huh, he took me under his wing when I arrived. He needed it as much as I did. He’d had a hard time grieving and when I moved here I gave him someone to look after. I think it was as good for him as it was for me.’
‘And now you’re taking me under your wing,’ I say almost without being able to stop myself.
‘Ha,’ he says laughing. ‘I guess I am. Although it’s going to have to be a pretty big wing with all the help you’ll need.’
‘Oi,’ I say poking him in the arm. ‘I think I’m doing just fine, thank you. Look, I’m all kitted out. What more do I need?’
‘If I’m being honest, a shower . . . I’m guessing that you haven’t been for that skinny dip yet.’
My jaw falls open and my eyes go wild. I’m about to give him a right thumping, but he’s already jumped up and is walking backwards towards the path we walked up.
‘Only kidding,’ he says.
I stick my nose under my fleece and wonder if he’s got a point, but Rosie promised that the bathroom would be in operation, in some fashion, this evening.
I get up and join him, keeping my distance just in case he does get a whiff of me.
‘Thanks for asking me to come on this walk,’ I say as we head back into the woods.
‘Thanks for coming. I usually like a good walk by myself, but every so often it is nice to have a bit of company.’
‘Have you found it easy to make friends since you moved here?’
I can’t imagine starting from scratch like that. I took the easy option after university, following Erica, Tess and Amelie when they got jobs in London. I couldn’t imagine living somewhere without my ready-made friendship group.
‘I’ve made a few. Of course there’s Rodney, but I climb a lot with a couple of guys who live in the next village and I go running sometimes with Trish.’
‘Trish the yoga instructor,’ I say, hoping it wasn’t the super-fit, super-pretty one that I met in the village. I look at my nails to pretend that I’m not interested in what he’s saying, cross at myself that I’ve got prickles of jealousy.
‘Yeah, that’s the one. She does try and get me to do her yoga class, but it’s not quite my scene. I imagine I’d be the person who toppled everyone over like dominoes.’
I smile as I try to picture him attempting to be dainty in a ballerina pose.
‘And you’re also friends with Jenny the hairdresser, right?’
‘Jenny, um, oh yeah, I know Jenny.’
I detect him going a little pink round the cheeks and I start to feel a bit foolish. A part of me had enjoyed feeling special, having Jack’s attention, but I think back to what Liz said and it makes me feel as if I’m one of many.
‘I also go to the pub once or twice a week. Have you been there yet?’ asks Jack.
‘Only for lunch yesterday. Rosie doesn’t let me out at night,’ I say making it sound as if she’s my jailor.
‘OK . . . well, it’s worth a visit as most people are pretty friendly, once they know that you’re not tourists. Liz and Gerry are often there with their husbands so I’m sure they’d show you off and introduce you to everyone. That is, if you get let out at night.’
He’s smirking at me and I feel the need to explain myself.
‘Rosie and I are on a digital detox, remember, which is why she thinks we should stay away from the pub. She has this ridiculous idea that I’ll steal someone’s phone and hide in the loos using WiFi all night.’
‘I wonder why she’d think that. I mean, it’s not as if you’d go out of your way to get the Internet, doing something strange, like, I don’t know, hiking up a hill in flimsy summer shoes after stealing your housemate’s phone.’
‘I didn’t steal it, I borrowed it,’ I say. ‘There’s a big difference.’
‘Oh right, I stand corrected,’ he says, holding his hands up, the smirk still planted on his face. I think I preferred him when he scowled all the time. ‘I take it the detox isn’t going very well, as every time I seem to find you, you’re trying to get the Internet.’
‘It’s going well in the sense that I’ve stopped twitching and reaching for my phone, so that’s progress, right? The problem is I’m worried about getting a job. I felt like I needed a break from the outside world when I agreed to the detox, but that was over a week ago and now I want to get on with my life. Only, Rosie brought me up here and roped me in to the renovation, and I’m now going to be up here for a few more weeks. I’m worried that I’ll be out of work too long and that panics me.’ I can’t face telling Jack about the reason for my sacking. ‘I just want to put some feelers out to see if I can get another job.’
‘That sounds fair enough. Surely Rosie would understand that if you explained it to her?’
‘She doesn’t get it. She got made redundant last year and has spent her time renovating and selling houses, so she thinks there’s nothing wrong with me having time out before I find something else.’
‘Do you think she could be right? Do you have to get a job straight away? Have you got a mortgage or debts?’
I shake my head. ‘No, I haven’t, but I don’t want to eat into my savings too much as I’ve been saving up for a flat deposit for years.’
We find ourselves out of the wood and in the fields again. Buster runs over to us excitedly before bounding after a rabbit.
‘Listen, I know that I don’t really know you, so I can’t really have an opinion, but from the little I do know it sounds as if you were really stressed out with your job and your lifestyle. I think your sister is probably right that you do need to take some time. You might have some biological clock ticking and you might be worried about CV gaps, but it’s not as if you’re lying on some beach drinking cocktails. You’re project managing a house renovation, surely you can talk about that in an interview and put it on your CV. Didn’t you say Rosie was turning it into holiday lets? With the right wording, you could spin it so that people didn’t just think you were painting your bathroom.’
I’m silent for a minute as I consider what he’s saying.
‘I think deep down you know that you need space, as otherwise you’d get on a train back to London. You’re a grown woman and Rosie’s pretty small; I doubt she’d be able to do anything to stop you if you really wanted to leave. In my humble opinion, you’re going along with her and doing this detox, following her rules, because you want a break. So take it.’
‘I . . .’ I can’t help thinking he’s right. I’m not imprisoned here; I could walk to the village and get a train. Maybe I’m hiding behind the digital detox because I don’t want to face up to the mess my life’s in.
‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I always thought I’d have fun in my early twenties, living in London, going out drinking with my friends – working hard, playing harder, that’s what you’re supposed to do, right? I just assumed that I’d get the big promotions, meet someone and get married, afford to buy my house and have kids. Only, now I’m thirty-one, I have nowhere to live, no job, no boyfriend and no idea if I even want to stay working in marketing. The men I meet are only ever after one thing, and I’m worried I’m never going to find anyone that’ll commit to me.’
I can feel tears welling up behind my eyes.
‘Instead of focusing on what you haven’t got, why don’t you focus on what you do have? Your friendships, your relationship with your sister. You’ve got a roof over your head and you’ve got a project to work on. And look where you are,’ he says waving his arm around.
I stop and take in the view. Under today’s blue sky the grass is greener than ever. It’s truly beautiful here.
I start walking again, and mull over what he said and what I should be grateful about. It seems funny that he mentioned my relationship with Rosie, as for years I’ve said how different we are and how we don’t get on, but we’ve lived in the most primitive conditions for the last week and we’ve got on surprisingly well.
‘You’re very wise,’ I say, finally.
‘I have my moments,’ he says. ‘I’ll tell you what, for someone getting space and wanting to find yourself, you couldn’t have picked a better place. Now that you’re safely kitted out, head out for a walk now and then, and I promise you, without hunting for a mobile signal, it’ll give you time to think.’
‘Thanks, Jack.’
We climb back over the stile and come to the end of the path.
‘Did you want to come back to the farm for a coffee?’ I say, not quite wanting the morning to end.
‘Actually, I’ve got a conference call for work, so rain check?’
‘OK, thanks for coming to get me today. I think that was just what I needed.’
‘Anytime,’ he says, waving as he goes.
I walk back through into our courtyard, glancing over at the well, and for the first time since Rosie put my phone down there I don’t have the urge to try and recover it. For the first time in a long time, I feel as if it’s where it’s meant to be for me to really think about where my life is heading.