Tom was his usual cheerful self, but it didn’t make up for the fact that Seth was ignoring her at every opportunity. He pretended not to of course; he was civil and to outward appearances it was business as usual, but none of this fooled Maddie. He no longer stayed to chat with her if she was washing up; more often than not he left the room if she entered it, claiming he had to get on with something; or, he simply found ways to be elsewhere when there was something to discuss, saying that he would leave any decision to her superior judgement.

The irony of this last statement wasn’t lost on her, but, in a way, it was also true. Seth did accept what he had been told. He understood their financial situation fully and, given the options, he had agreed that the only possible and logical way forward was to sell Joy’s painting. Except that somehow, it seemed however hard he tried, he couldn’t overcome his disappointment that it was Maddie who had been the one to persuade him this was their only course of action. They had bonded over their shared love for Joy’s Acre, but now it was as if she had revealed herself to be nothing more than a business woman looking for a fast buck. It was no surprise to her that he thought this way, but it still hurt.

Maddie adjusted her grip on the tray she was carrying. This was the second pot of tea that she had brought out to Seth and Tom today, along with some fresh brownies that Trixie had made, and yet, what would hopefully be a day for celebration, was, for her at least, tempered by Seth’s attitude towards her. In all likelihood the roof would be finished today and all along this had been the signal that they were on the final stretch, the home straight; a sign that they were almost ready for business. But her excitement level was far below where it should have been, and it saddened her.

‘Tea’s up!’ she yelled as she neared the cottage. ‘And more cake!’

It had been somewhat of a running joke that since Trixie moved in they seemed to be constantly devouring huge chunks of cake, but to be honest, some days it was all they seemed to live off until their evening meal. Not perhaps the healthiest of lifestyles, but physical exercise was in plentiful supply too, as a catalogue of aching and bruised limbs would testify.

Tom immediately shimmied down the ladder, wiping his hand across his brow as he reached the bottom.

‘Blimey, it’s warm up there today,’ he said, coming forward. ‘Might have to take my top off soon.’ He winked at her.

‘You’ll scare the birds away, Tom,’ she replied, handing him a mug. She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at the roof, where Seth was still working away. ‘Is he coming, do you think?’

Tom put two fingers in his mouth and gave a sharp whistle. ‘Oi, guv’nor,’ he shouted. ‘Get your backside down here for a drink. I don’t want you keeling over on me, not when we’re this close.’

‘Are you really going to finish today?’ she asked while they were waiting.

‘I reckon so,’ Tom replied. ‘Wasn’t sure we would, but then we’ve had such a run of good weather, and Seth’s been like a man on a mission, so…’

She looked away at the slight inflection in his voice and pretended to be studying the thatch. Whatever Tom had noticed was not something she was prepared to discuss; she really didn’t want to know what Seth had been saying about her. Joy’s painting had been included in an auction that would take place in two days’ time, and then it would all be over. Until that happened she would bide her time.

‘It looks amazing, Tom,’ she said. ‘And to think that just a few weeks ago I thought thatch was a waste of time. I feel ashamed to say it, but I can’t believe how naive I was. Now I know the skill and work that goes into it.’

She ran her eyes along the roof line, to the far end of the ridge where two straw hares leaped in joyful play.

‘Is that your signature?’ she asked. ‘I’ve seen them before but never really considered why it was done.’

‘A bit of whimsy, maybe. Some thatchers don’t hold with finials, thinking them arrogant, I don’t know, but where I trained all of us did them. It lets folk know who thatched the roof for one.’

’So why are yours hares then? Why did you pick those?’

Tom tapped the side of his nose. ‘Ah, well that’s the thing, isn’t it. There’s always a story in there somewhere. Mine came about a few years back when I was playing with the band at a wedding. A right do, it was. Very posh, but man they could put away the booze. At the end of the night, we were playing a fast jig and it got to my solo bit on the banjo. Folks were totally piddled by then, but one lass, a farmer’s daughter I reckon, got a fit of the giggles and couldn’t stop. She said all she could see was hares running and chasing in the fields.’

He rubbed at his chin. ‘I didn’t think much of it at the time, she was probably seeing unicorns and all, but afterwards I got to thinking about it myself. Have you ever seen mad march hares, Maddie? It’s not just a saying, but if you’ve ever seen ’em you’d never forget ’em. Nothing like it for letting you know that spring is on its way. It seemed right that I should use them after that.’

Maddie gaped at the roof. ‘Why don’t half of us know these things?’ she said. ‘What an amazing story.’ She looked over at Seth, who had finally come to join them, and smiled. ‘Well, that’s definitely going on the website,’ she said. ‘What do you think, Seth?’

He gave her a quizzical look. ‘About what?’

‘The finials, and the reason why Tom picked hares.’

He shrugged. ‘That old chestnut. I thought it was just a chat-up line to be honest.’ Maddie tutted, but Seth was actually smiling. ‘Well, whatever it was, Tom, it’s still a good story, and, more importantly, it will become part of the charm for folks who come here.’

‘Which shouldn’t be long with any luck,’ added Maddie. ‘Our click-through rates on the website are going up every day, and the more we get it’s only a matter of time before someone makes a booking. Once we’re done here I can add some more photos as well, internal ones too.’

She wasn’t really fishing for compliments, but it would be nice to hear some positive feedback. Seth hadn’t exactly been gushing with praise recently.

‘Well that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Translating this lot into cold hard cash.’ Seth drained his mug, replaced it on the tray and took a brownie from the plate, biting it in half. At no point did his eyes meet hers. He waved the other half of the cake at Tom. ‘See you back up there, mate.’

Tom bit into his own cake, shuffling his feet. ‘Ignore him, Maddie,’ he said so softly she almost didn’t hear it. ‘You’re doing the right thing.’

She looked up at him, his face unusually sombre, but she had nothing more to say. It didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. For some reason all she cared about was what Seth was thinking. She nodded, rearranging the items on the tray so that Tom could replace his mug too.

‘Thanks,’ she said quietly, smiling as best she could.

---

Logging into the computer took all of thirty seconds, but Maddie stared at the screen far longer than it took for the system to boot up. She didn’t need to add the latest costings into the spreadsheet to know what the end result was, but she was going to do it anyway. She had purposely left the folder with all the information in it on the kitchen table last night, knowing that if Seth opened it he would be able to see the current state of play within a minute or so. She didn’t really need to prove her point, but it was there for the taking.

She had also kept a list of savings they had made over the last few weeks, thinking that this was just as important for them all to know. It made the hard work seem all the more worthwhile. It justified the time and effort they had all put into it and, she hoped, provided further proof, if any were needed, of how well they had all worked together as a team.

In two days’ time, provided the painting sold for a good price, she would know where she stood, but she hoped with all her might that the outcome was the one she desired. Joy’s Acre was so much more to her now than just a job, but if things didn’t go according to plan, that’s probably what it would become.

The email program booted up automatically, and she stared at it as it loaded, willing the inbox to show new mail had arrived. Her heart leaped as a tiny ping announced the arrival of a message, but sank just as quickly when she saw it was simply junk. How was that even possible? The site had only been up and running a couple of weeks. She completed her task and pushed the chair back from the desk. The information could stay on the screen for the time being, it wouldn’t hurt.

She wandered back through to the kitchen, almost flinching as she passed the painting that hung in the hallway; the one that Seth had bought at auction years before, the one that had suddenly made her realise what Joy’s Acre was all about. To its left was a bare hook, empty of the new picture that was now safely delivered to the sale room. She walked on by.

Trixie was still baking, up to her ears in dough which she was pounding relentlessly on the table. Every time Maddie had seen her during the course of the day she had been doing the exact same thing.

‘Can I have a go?’ asked Maddie, grimacing. ‘I could do with giving something a good thrashing.’

Trixie flashed her a grin. ‘Be my guest,’ she said. ‘My bloody arm’s about to drop off.’

Maddie had actually been joking, but as Trixie raised her hands from the ball of dough and stepped away she realised the truth in her own words.

‘I’ve never done this before,’ she admitted. ‘You’ll have to show me how.’

‘Easy peasy,’ replied Trixie. ‘Just imagine it’s Seth’s body there on the table and you’re trying to tear him limb from limb.’

Maddie looked up and groaned. ‘Is it really that obvious?’ she said.

Trixie just looked at her. ‘Limb from limb,’ she repeated. ‘Go on, try it.’

And so Maddie did, stretching at the dough furiously, pulling it this way and that.

Trixie gave a low whistle. ‘Jeez, remind me never to get on your bad side,’ she quipped. ‘Quite therapeutic though, isn’t it? And when you’re done tearing limb from limb, you can pick the dough up and then roll it around – use the heel of your palm to push the dough into the table, like you’re trying to grind someone’s face in the dirt.’

Maddie stared at her. ‘That’s awesome.’ She grinned. ‘Remind me never to get on your bad side either. Where do you get your analogies from?’

Just as Trixie was about to reply the front door banged and Seth came storming through into the hallway, Clara hot on his heels.

‘And don’t you bloody walk away from me when I’m trying to talk to you! You really are the most pig-headed, stubborn man I know—’

‘This is my house, I’ll walk where I damn well like.’ He swivelled to face her. ‘And as a topic of conversation I am not prepared to discuss it under any circumstances, have I not made that clear enough yet? Give it up, Clara.’

He continued his march down the hall.

‘No! I won’t!’ she shouted at his retreating back. ‘Because you’re making the biggest mistake of your life and you know you are. You’re just too bloody proud to admit it…’

The shouting match continued up the stairs and along the landing, at which point another door slammed. Maddie walked to the kitchen door, holding her floury hands aloft, and nudged it closed with her hip.

‘That’s better,’ she said. ‘Now where were we?’ And with that she renewed her attack on the helpless piece of dough under her fingers. She continued for several more minutes. ‘If I haven’t ruined it, what are we making?’ she asked eventually.

‘They’re for the farmers’ market tomorrow,’ Trixie explained. ‘I’m making bread samples, eight different loaves in all, which we’re going to try out on punters and see which ones go down the best. Then next month, we’ll make tons of them and hopefully a nice tidy profit at the same time. All part of our cunning plan.’ She paused for a moment, looking slightly uncomfortable. ‘Shouldn’t we go after them?’ she said.

‘Nope,’ said Maddie, firmly. ‘Whatever they’re arguing about, I’m staying well clear. Besides, by the sound of it Clara has things well covered.’ She softened her mouth a little. ‘I’m sorry though,’ she added. ‘You’ve only just arrived and it can’t be very nice for you at the moment. Things are a bit intense, aren’t they?’

‘They often are when passion’s involved. My mum and dad fight like cat and dog, but their marriage has outlived all of my mates’ parents’ and they’re still going strong. I’ve learned that it’s just the way some people are. They love each other, that’s what counts in the long run. Seth’s no different; he loves this place and so he fights for what he believes in. Underneath that doesn’t stop him from knowing that he can get things wrong too, and when he realises that, he’ll have learnt from it and the bond will be even stronger still.’

She gave Maddie a sideways glance. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’m amazing. It comes with being a barmaid. We’re fully trained to give advice on anything and everything, but marriage guidance is usually a speciality. There’s quite a lot of call for it.’ She raised an eyebrow.

Maddie laughed. ‘Oh, I bet there is.’

‘So, in your case, whatever happens at the auction on Friday happens, and life goes on, and it will go on. Plus, Seth will realise that his passion for this place… and other things… also goes on, unaltered.’

‘And in the meantime?’

‘In the meantime, we bake…’

---

Maddie hadn’t intended to stay and help Trixie at all, but it was wonderfully cathartic and before she knew it they were on to making another batch of bread. A honey and sunflower loaf this time. It was good to get away from figures, work schedules, fittings lists and decision making. There in the kitchen it was just them, a few ingredients and the strange alchemy that was bread-making. The noise had continued upstairs for a little while, but all had been quiet for some time now, and neither Seth nor Clara had reappeared.

As the afternoon turned to early evening, Trixie’s attention switched to preparing dinner; a mushroom, spinach and nut pie, which sounded mouth-watering. Given that she had been baking most of the day, Maddie offered to stay and give Trixie a hand, and first on the list was the washing and clearing up after their bread-making session.

Maddie turned the tap on full and waited for the water to heat, adding a generous squirt of washing-up liquid into the huge butler sink. Trixie had gone out to the garden to gather some of what she needed for their meal and for pretty much the first time that afternoon the kitchen fell silent. Maddie stood staring out the window as the sink filled, lost in thought. Her time with Trixie had been good for her, taking her mind off her troubles, but now she was alone once more the list of things that still needed to be done began to crowd her head. Pulling on the lurid yellow washing-up gloves, she turned to fetch the mixing bowls from the table.

Her hand flew to her mouth.

‘Christ, you made me jump!’ she exclaimed. ‘How long have you been standing there?’

In fact, Seth wasn’t exactly standing, he was leaning up against the table, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. His arms rested lightly in his lap.

‘Not that long. You didn’t hear me come in.’

‘No, really? For God’s sake, Seth, you nearly gave me a heart attack.’

‘You were staring out the window. I wondered what you were thinking.’

‘Just stuff,’ she said noncommittally, her eyes dropping automatically to the floor before raising them again briefly. Seth was staring at her.

‘I see. Good stuff… Or bad stuff…?’

She didn’t answer him.

‘I see,’ he said again.

All of a sudden, his discomfort made her angry.

‘Well what do you suppose I was thinking about? Eh, Seth? It doesn’t take a genius to work it out, now does it? One minute you were confiding your innermost secrets to me, hinting that… well never mind, but friendly at least, and then the next minute you can’t bear to be in the same room as me. I know what I’ve done, Seth… No, wait a minute, that’s not right. I know what we’ve done, Seth, and I know why we’ve done it. The only I in this equation is there because it was me that drew the short straw and told you we have no choice other than to sell the painting. But it’s not like we didn’t know it was coming, any more than we think it’s a terrible idea. So, pardon me if I find it a little upsetting now that I’m being treated like a pariah, when everyone else is still top of your Christmas card list.’

Her eyes blazed at him as he stared at her calmly and quietly. It was more than a little unnerving. She wanted him to retaliate, to at least try to defend himself so that she could denounce his words and throw more bile at him, but he just stood there, eyes locked on hers, his face unreadable. And those big brown eyes, dammit, so dark they hid his emotion from her.

Slowly he uncrossed his legs and straightened. Then he took a step towards her, and another. In the second before his hand snaked around the back of her neck she wondered if she’d pushed him too far, but then he pulled her head closer and laid the gentlest kiss on her lips; a soft sigh, as his breath mingled with hers.

‘I don’t blame you,’ he murmured. ‘I blame me…’ And then he kissed her again.

‘Do you think everyone would like salad with—’ Trixie’s voice from the doorway stopped suddenly. ‘Oh.’

Seth pulled away, but not before she had time to see that she had got it wrong before; she didn’t need to see his emotion after all, she could feel it very clearly indeed. The next instant he had flashed Trixie an apologetic smile and fled the room.

Trixie’s hands went to her hips. ‘Now what the heck was all that about?’ she said.

Maddie’s fingers touched her lips. ‘I have absolutely no idea,’ she said.