by Carol Wyer
Suddenly Single
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Copyright
Chapter One
Sunday, 17th December
Snow fell gently; fat wet flakes that at first looked as if they might melt, but soon formed into small white pyramids against the bare branches of the hawthorn hedges that lined the twisting lane. Under other circumstances it would have been a charming scenario and Chloe Piper would have enjoyed observing each deposit of snow grow larger with the hope that soon everywhere would be covered with nature’s pure white tablecloth.
Faith scowled as white flurries hurtled towards the windscreen. She turned on the windscreen wipers to clear her vision. ‘Perfect, just perfect. They didn’t forecast snow today.’
‘I quite like it,’ replied Chloe, ‘especially at this time of the year. It’s magical. However, if it doesn’t stop soon, we’ll have trouble reaching the house. There’s a whopper of a slope before you reach the reservoir. Could be slippery.’
‘It’s certainly rural here,’ said Faith, guiding the Audi expertly around sharp bends; the engine growling deeply as if to warn other road users to steer clear. They passed a run-down farmhouse, its windows dark and uninviting, and then a field where woolly sheep huddled together to stay warm, each black face looking expectantly at the sound of the car approaching. In a paddock further on, two chestnut horses clad in warm horse blankets stared as the car rounded the bend, steam emitting from their soft velvet noses.
‘Not far to go now,’ said Chloe, spotting the sign for the reservoir.
‘You are quite convinced about this, aren’t you?’ Faith had already asked the same question several times during this trip. Chloe was certain. She had never been more certain in her life.
‘I mean not many newly single thirty-five-year-olds choose to live on windswept hillsides in the middle of nowhere rather than in a town or city,’ commented Faith. ‘I really don’t know how anyone could survive without coffee shops and bars. Well, anyone other than you,’ she added with a warm smile.
Not many people understood her decision. She dragged herself away from thoughts of what had led to it and watched the flakes descending, marvelling at how each one was individual, made up of unique ice crystals. Like people, she reflected. People were all different too. They were individuals with different needs, hopes and desires. They were composed of a multitude of different facets, opinions and expectations, and as such, should be allowed to behave uniquely.
‘I needed to leave all that village life behind. I couldn’t stay hidden there, not after what happened. You know what it’s like in that place. You lived next door to me for three years. Everyone pokes their noses into everyone else’s business. And if they don’t know it, they make it up. It was bearable when I could lay low at home but now… I need to be left alone – completely.’
‘Yes, but where will you get the inspiration for your next book? It can be pretty difficult when your new nearest neighbours appear to have four legs and black and white markings. You can’t really follow Spank Me Harder, Vicar with Bluebell and Betsy Frolic in the Meadow.
Chloe giggled before saying, ‘I suppose it was only a matter of time before some of the village folk found out I was actually C J Knight, author of that rather naughty, revealing book. William warned me somebody would work out the book had been written by a villager. He wasn’t too happy at the prospect because he didn’t want to be associated with the book in any way.’
Her brow creased at the memory of William.
‘They only speculated it was you. They had no way of knowing for certain and I assume your identity is still fairly secure.’
‘I’d prefer to remain anonymous.’
‘I know, hun. Considering William spent three years complaining you were wasting your time writing it, you’d have thought he’d have been blown away by the book’s success.’
‘Declared it a flash in the pan.’
Faith tutted. ‘He has no idea.’
Chloe kept her own counsel. Part of her was beginning to think William had been right. She smiled at her friend.
Chloe and Faith had been thrown together by fate – a cruel fate. Faith’s husband, Adrian, a supposedly fit thirty-seven-year-old, suffered sudden cardiac arrest in the back garden and Faith’s screams had alerted Chloe, who’d been working in her own garden. She clambered over the fence that separated the two houses and whilst Faith had phoned for an ambulance, Chloe had tried in vain to resuscitate the man. They’d become unlikely friends – Chloe the introvert and Faith the go-getter.
‘William wasn’t fair to you. I was glad when you outed him for the rat he was. You could do so much better than him.’
‘It’s unlikely I’ll find anyone willing to live with somebody like me.’
‘You haven’t got a horrible, infectious disease, Chloe. Your condition’s debilitating but you were getting on top of it.’
Chloe chewed at her bottom lip. She didn’t like discussing the anxiety she suffered in social situations. She’d been trying a new therapy to help her face social situations but William’s revelation he was having an affair and his subsequent departure had been a major setback and she’d withdrawn from the programme.
‘Anyway, he’s completely wrong about your novel. Wait until those royalties come through in March, you’ll be able to pay off a huge chunk of the mortgage on this new place and settle all your credit card bills. That’ll show him.’
‘I have you to thank really for all this, for securing that contract with Upfront Publishing. Without you, I’d have probably been one of many self-published writers scrabbling to make a name for myself, and William would have been crowing about being right. It doesn’t matter though, does it? I don’t need to prove anything to him. He’s already turned his back on me and on what I achieve. He has his new girlfriend – Lilly – now and as far as he’s concerned, I don’t exist anymore.’
‘He’s a bastard – a stupid bastard.’
‘At least I can follow my dream without criticism and arguments about why I haven’t done the washing, or tantrums because I’ve forgotten to cook dinner because I was carried away with an idea. It’ll be nice not to have that tension any more. It’ll be a new chapter in my personal book of life.’
She kept her tone light but guessed Faith would know she was bluffing. Chloe’s fragile self-confidence had shattered following the discovery of her husband’s infidelity.
‘As long as this isn’t another step in your quest to distance yourself from everyone, then it’s okay by me.’
‘I’m trying, Faith. I managed to come here alone, meet the vendor, and two of the men who work on the development, and look around the house without bolting.’
Faith patted her knee gently. ‘I know and I’m
proud of you for doing it, and for tackling all of this head on. It’s been a major challenge, but surely it shows you what you’re capable of. You don’t need William.’
‘I know.’ Her voice lost its strength. She’d managed to buy a house and visit a lawyer and face up to strangers, but Faith could have no idea of how physically sick she’d been before each of those seemingly normal activities. Or how she’d been awake for nights afterwards, anxious about the impression she’d made. Social anxiety disorder might not be a killer disease but it certainly ruined lives.
The women fell silent as the car reached the top of the steep climb and the reservoir came into view. Faith drew a sharp intake of breath as she gazed over dark still water reflecting the heavy clouds above. It was an impressive sight.
Chloe suddenly realised why she’d fallen for the place. It reminded her of her childhood home on the Isle of Skye. It took her back to a time when she’d been happy before her family was taken from her in a cruel accident and before she developed the debilitating disorder that prevented her from mixing with others. This place was a replacement for that – a faraway haven that transported her back in time.
‘It always surprises me too. The water is never the same colour. Some days it’s a perfect azure, other days it can be light grey and moody and sometimes, like today, it is dark and brooding just like the sea. It’ll be like living next to the seaside without the fish and chips, tacky souvenir shops and sand.’
‘It’s spectacular. There are woods all around it too.’
Chloe’s eyes sparkled. ‘I know. It’s wonderful. Ronnie and I will be able to go for walks here.’ Behind her, a grave-faced dog with large brown eyes, gave her a reproachful look. She admonished it in gentle tones. ‘There’s no need to look so excited.’
‘Ronnie really looks like the saddest dog in the world,’ said Faith, giving a little laugh.
‘He’s pining for the Shih Tzu next door, the current love of his life. She was on heat when we left.’ Chloe turned back towards Ronnie. ‘And I dragged him away from a pile of steaming cow pats he discovered on our morning walk. Don’t worry, there’ll be new loves, exciting times, lots of fantastic walks and huge, dopey rabbits for you, Ronnie. Yes, rabbits,’ she repeated, causing a stirring in Ronnie’s stumpy tail as it thumped against the back seat. His stomach gurgled ominously.
‘He isn’t going to…?’ Faith’s manicured eyebrows knitted together in horror.
‘Probably. It’s the cow pats. They make him flatulent.’
‘Don’t you dare, Ronnie,’ ordered Faith. ‘This is an Audi Q7. It cost a fortune. It has leather seats and is not suitable for farting dogs. Pity he couldn’t fit in the back with all the boxes.’
Ronnie sunk his head back onto his paws and stared at the floor.
‘Don’t listen to her. You know she loves you, you smelly old mutt.’
The snow was beginning to ease. They took a left turn, passed a riding school and three identical terraced cottages, joined by twinkling Christmas lights that hung across all three, before reaching a sign marked Sunny Meadow.
They turned into the drive flanked by tall hawthorn hedges that concealed any views and followed it up a steep tarmac drive until the development came into sight. There the drive branched off towards the completed buildings: the first path in the direction of a one-storey barn with an arched porch and large arched windows; the second towards a renovated barn resplendent in size with an impressive timbered conservatory that dominated one side of the building. A massive wooden duck gazed out of the glass-fronted door.
‘Looks like I have neighbours,’ said Chloe. ‘There was no one living in either property when I last visited.’
‘When was that?’
‘I came up a month ago but I haven’t seen the place since then. Thomas Collins, the site developer, took delivery of the furniture I ordered online. He’s been so helpful. I don’t know how I would have managed without him. He emails me almost every day to let me know how it’s getting on.’
‘Wow! Who’s that?’ she added as a slim young man wearing a dark jumper and a beanie hat, balancing a plank of wood on his shoulder, waved in their direction.
‘Jack,’ replied Chloe, lifting her hand slightly in acknowledgement. ‘He’s the carpenter.’
‘Never seen a carpenter that good-looking.’
‘You can forget those thoughts,’ said Chloe. She knew her friend’s penchant for athletic looking men. ‘He’s married and has a new baby. His iPhone is stuffed with photos of his wife and kid. He showed them to me when I was here last time.’
Her voice took on the same wistful tone it always did when talking about babies. William had decided his career was more important than children and refused to have them. ‘There isn’t anything he can’t craft from wood. He constructed all the beams for the barns, window frames and doors. He designed and built all my wardrobes. He says wood is a living thing and we should talk to it and look after it for it to look its best.’
‘Oh, he’s some sort of wood-whisperer, then,’ said Faith, making Chloe chuckle.
Jack disappeared into one of the outbuildings. Faith craned her neck to check out the other two builders working on a half-timbered roof of another outbuilding and then whistled under her breath.
‘Maybe you will have plenty of inspiration for a new bonkbuster novel here,’ she mumbled as a lithe figure in fitted jeans and a leather jacket, sporting stubble and a golden suntan turned towards the Audi and gave a white-toothed smile at the two women before leaping into a grey Land Rover and heading off down the hill.
‘Okay, who’s the Adonis?’
‘No idea who he is. He’s probably here to deliver some stuff for the builders. There’s loads of comings and goings. I don’t think it’s going to be too quiet for a while, at least until all the development is completed. Here we are. There’s Thomas waiting at the door.’
A man in his sixties, ruddy-faced from years of working outside, stood by the front door. His Barbour jacket was open to reveal his frayed sweater and dark, well-worn corduroy trousers. He raised his hand in greeting. Chloe leapt from her seat and darted to the back door where she leant across the back seat to collect Ronnie now struggling to see where he was. She snapped his lead onto the collar and he jumped out, shook himself causing his identity tag to rattle, and relieved himself against the Audi’s back tyre.
‘Wretched dog,’ said Faith with little conviction, patting him on the head. She took three steps forward and stood open-mouthed at the stupendous two-hundred-and-seventy-degree view over fields, woods and into the distance. Ahead of them, the reservoir shimmered like a silver lake.
At last Faith spoke. ‘Oh, my goodness! What an incredible house. It’s so pretty!’
The building constructed of rich, russet bricks and gleaming, reclaimed slate grey tiles was two-storeys high with skylights set in the roof, allowing space downstairs for the several huge arched windows, fitted where the old barn entrance archways had once stood. They afforded formidable views of the grounds surrounding the house – most of which was yet to be laid to lawn and was currently little more than flattened earth. Below the roof, detailed brickwork added to the character of the house, a reminder of what it had once been: a tractor and grain store.
Thomas strode towards the women, his rough, large hand extended in greeting.
‘Congratulations!’ he boomed, handing Chloe the keys to her new home. ‘You are now the proud owner of Sunny Meadow Barn.’
Faith wrapped her Max Mara black suede coat tightly around her and sighed. ‘It’s beautiful. I can see why Chloe fell in love with it and wanted to come here.’
Ronnie strained at his lead, eager to check out the new smells, his stubby tail wagging in excitement.
‘Nice dog. What breed is it?’
‘Pure mongrel,’ replied Chloe shyly. Although she’d met Thomas on a few occasions before, she still felt awkward. That was one of the problems of her disorder, together with the fact she had no idea how her body mig
ht react. On this occasion it seemed to be holding up. ‘It’s more a case of what breed isn’t in him.’ Ronnie’s tongue flopped out of his mouth giving the impression he was grinning in agreement. His tail continued to thrash from side to side threatening to send him into a chaotic spin.
‘The barn looks superb. You’ve even managed to slab around the place so I won’t be trailing in mud. I wasn’t expecting that. You’ve worked so hard on it.’
‘It wasn’t me. It was my men. I told them if they didn’t finish the place for you on time, I wasn’t letting them have any Christmas holiday this year and I was cancelling the boys’ night out at the pub. That got them working. They finished all the little fiddly bits on Friday and the cleaner came in and scoured it yesterday to prepare it for your big day. We’re working seven days a week up until the Christmas holidays to try and stay on target. The site will shut down then until the new year, so we’re finishing what we can now. That’s why we’re all here today. Normally on a Sunday, I’ve got my feet up, watching telly. So, are you ready and eager to get into your new home? Hope we put the furniture in the right place for you. We weren’t too sure what to do with it but if you need it moving elsewhere, the lads will sort it.’ His eyes twinkled with pride as he led the women to the back door and waited for their reaction after he opened the door that led into the kitchen. He wasn’t disappointed.
Faith was the first to comment. ‘Chloe, it’s perfect. So you.’
The kitchen was a blend of contemporary trends of industrial and neutral tones, while holding on to a warm essence. Open shelving created a relaxed atmosphere and the designer Italian stools that stood by a large rustic island would be ideal for casual dining. Mood lighting over the island and task lighting over the kitchen units created a great balance while the natural light that flooded through the huge windows softly illuminated the entire space.
Faith pointed to it. ‘I can picture myself sitting there, glass of wine in hand and snacking on some warm, crusty bread. Ah, bliss!’
‘You’ll definitely come and visit me here in the wilds of Staffordshire, then.’
‘You bet. It has a certain appeal,’ she added, her eye drawn to the figure tapping on the window attempting to attract Thomas’s attention. It was Jack. Thomas stuck up a thumb in acknowledgement and the carpenter departed.