by Carol Wyer
‘They’re all keen to know if you’re happy with it,’ said Thomas.
‘Very,’ replied Chloe, savouring being in her own home.
The island’s pale marble top had a hint of pink that was reflected in pink roses that stood in a light pink flower bag. She hastened towards them breathing in their delicate perfume.
‘The flowers are beautiful. You shouldn’t have bought them.’ Her cheeks had turned the same shade of pink as the petals. Thomas merely smiled a response, his attention on Ronnie, who scuttled about the kitchen checking every corner and sniffing the length of every skirting board.
‘Is this the lounge?’ asked Faith, wandering towards the wooden door at the far end of the kitchen. She opened it and emitted a squeal of delight. ‘A whopper of a log burner, and it’s alight! It’s gorgeous. How toasty! Ooh, lovely huge settees. You have good taste, Chloe. These are much nicer than those leather things you had at the old place. Okay, forget the island and the crusty bread. I’m thinking more of snuggling up in front of this with a glass of mulled wine.’
The smile on Thomas’s face broadened. He turned towards Chloe. ’Couldn’t have you coming into a chilly house, could we? I got my lad, Alex, to fetch up some wood for you. We stacked it around the back of the house and you should have enough to last you over Christmas.’
‘I really don’t know what to say. You’ve been amazing. I’m sure you’ve done more than you ought to have for me. You’ve been here to take delivery of my furniture, bought me light shades, sorted out the television aerial man, advised me on materials and design and held my hand during the whole process.’
‘We all need a little hand-holding from time to time. The lads and I work on developments all the time. It’s our business and it’s easier for us to find those little necessary bits and pieces, like toilet roll holders and outside lamps or doorstops, than for you to mess about. We only help out the clients we like though,’ he added with a wink. ‘Now, can I ask you a favour?’ He put his large hand into his coat pocket and extracted a copy of a book.
‘My missus would love you to sign this.’
Chloe looked at the cover and gasped. ‘How did you find out? I thought I was anonymous here. No one is supposed to know I wrote it. I wanted to keep it quiet.’
Thomas tapped the side of his nose. ‘I like to find out as much as possible about the folk who buy my houses and I have a particular fondness for this development. This is going to be my last project ever before I retire and I want it to be special with only the “right” people living here. I’ve turned down many folks who have put in offers on these properties. I’m only accepting those from people I feel ought to be here. Call me old. Call me stupid, or quirky, but that’s what I’ve decided to do. It’s taken four years of planning and arguing with authorities to get it this far. I designed all the houses myself so I want them to be cared for and loved as much as I care about them. Don’t worry. I won’t spill the beans about you. An old pal in Appletree told me about you. He heard a rumour. You will sign the book, won’t you? Patricia loved it. She can’t wait for your next one.’
Faith, who had returned from the lounge, pricked up her ears. ‘You’d better get that laptop out pretty quickly. You have fans. And they can’t get enough of your naughty vicar stories. What a great place to write. It’s so peaceful and calm. I expect many more bonkbuster novels from you, Chloe Piper. I’m depending on you to keep me in designer clothes and expensive holidays.’
‘This is my agent, PR guru, right-hand woman and best friend, Faith Hopkins,’ said Chloe, spotting Thomas’s eyebrows lifting in interest. He held out a hand. Faith obliged and shook it.
‘You in publishing?’
‘I am and Chloe is my star client.’
Chloe took the copy of Spank Me Harder, Vicar together with the pen Thomas offered, and wrote a brief message. He read it, smiled, and thanked her.
‘Patricia will be stoked and the ladies at her book club are going to be very jealous she has a signed copy. Thank you. By the way, the flowers aren’t from me. They’re from an anonymous admirer,’ he said, tapping the side of his nose with a broad forefinger again. He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of champagne which he handed over. ‘But this is. From the first time I met you I knew you were the right person to buy Sunny Meadow Barn. I hope you’ll be very happy here, Chloe. Now I’m going to leave you and your lovely friend to settle in and if there’s anything you need, just come over to the big barn. The lads will be there until four o’clock.’
Chloe thanked the man again and watched as he plodded carefully around the house and onto the gravel drive towards the as yet unfinished outbuildings.
Ronnie’s paws pattered on the tiled floors and he plonked down by the door with a sigh and gazed out across the land, watching for movement in the far hedge.
‘What a sweet man! Is all the land yours too?’ asked Faith, drawn again to the large window.
Chloe nodded. ‘Five acres of it surrounded by fields of cows and only four other houses in proximity. There’ll only be a handful of human neighbours up here, who, according to Thomas, are also keen to get away from the rat race and other folk. I can do whatever I like, run around the garden naked, hang upside down from the ash tree, turn up the stereo so loudly it makes the walls of the house vibrate. It’ll be fine.’
‘Come on, show me around the rest of the house and then we’ll find some glasses and open up that bottle. You did bring glasses with you, didn’t you?’
‘I didn’t leave everything behind. Besides the glasses were Nanny Olive’s, so they really belong to me. I wanted to start afresh. I didn’t want to clutter up my new life with too much memorabilia from my past life with William. It’s not so much a new chapter for me as a new book.’ Nanny Olive had been instrumental in her life. After Chloe’s parents and sister had been killed in a light aircraft incident, she’d moved from the quiet island in the Outer Hebrides to live with her grandmother in Birmingham. It hadn’t been easy. The trauma of losing her family had changed Chloe – forever.
Ronnie chose that moment to release a gassy emission. He wrinkled his eyebrows in apology. Faith groaned.
‘Maybe I should take Ronnie out for a quick walk first.’
Faith fanned her hands across her face. ‘Good idea. I’ll track down the glasses and you can take that pongy pooch out to see if there’s anything out there worth writing about.’
Ronnie gleefully strained in the direction of the muddy field outside the back door, tail wagging. Snowflakes stuck together in clumps like small patches of white flowers against the dark earth and Chloe held fast, dragging the dog down her gravel drive to avoid getting filthy. The wind was picking up. At the gate she stopped to admire the house opposite. Her neighbours had switched on their Christmas lights, reminding her she ought to buy a Christmas tree soon and make some preparations, even if they were only for her and Ronnie. They turned onto the main driveway.
Ronnie snuffled excitedly in the grassy verges, his nose assaulted by an array of interesting scents. She breathed in the fresh air and gazed off into the distance. At that exact same moment, Ronnie’s lead slipped from her hand and suddenly he sped off across churned earth littered with bricks and stones in the direction of one of the tumbledown outbuildings on the far side of the site. Aware of the dangers of building sites, Chloe raced after him, yelling at him to return. He ignored her and hurtled onwards, leaving her ever further behind. Her breath came in painful gasps, reminding her she was horribly out of shape. Flagging quickly, she spotted his tail as he leapt onto a pile of debris and disappeared inside the structure. Anxious he’d cut his paws on the rubble she shouted, ‘Ronnie Piper, get back here now or there’ll be no chicken for dinner.’
Her words were carried away by the wind. She jogged on, fearful he would continue through the open-ended building to the fields beyond, and then onto the main road that ran past the woods. This area was unfamiliar territory to him and he could easily get lost or spooked. Worse still, he could b
e hell-bent on returning to their old home in Appletree and to the little Shih Tzu on heat. The sky suddenly seemed darker and more threatening. She shivered in spite of the burst of activity. Ronnie meant the world to her. He’d been there for her when she most needed him and now he was all she had left. She couldn’t lose him.
Snow began tumbling. This time it seemed less enchanting; cold, wet flurries that blew into her face and stung her eyes, making them water. She ran on, puffing with effort at navigating uneven ground strewn with timber and rubble. By now, she’d covered quite some distance and was entering the area marked ‘unsafe’. She clambered over an enormous pile of stones and stumbled into the entrance of a dilapidated building, dropping onto one knee and swearing loudly. Pain ripped through her kneecap but even that couldn’t stop the anxiety that continued to rise in her chest. Ronnie was fast on his feet and could be dangerously close to the road by now. With his dark black fur and grey face, he’d be invisible to any motorist blinded by this snow. A large tear escaped and hung on one long dark eyelash as she hauled herself up.
A movement caught her eye. She squinted at an object a few feet ahead in the gloom of the building. It was Ronnie, tail wagging and head down, oblivious to his mistress’s arrival. He was wolfing down a delicious titbit he’d discovered.
In spite of the relief she felt, she admonished him in her best schoolmarm voice. ‘Ronnie Piper, drop that now.’
Ronnie fell to the floor and squirmed a little way in her direction on his belly, his eyes pleading to forgive him. She marched towards him and grabbed at the object dangling from his mouth. It appeared to be soggy tin foil.
‘You disgusting boy, what have you found to scoff now?’
A warm voice responded. ‘One large sausage roll, two ham and mustard sandwiches and a bag of cheese and onion crisps.’
She turned to face the speaker, a man in his mid-thirties with dark curly hair, eyes like shining conkers, and a broad mischievous grin on his suntanned rugged face. It was the man she and Faith had spotted when they’d arrived. Heat rose from the base of her throat and warmed her cheeks. It was always the same when she met strangers: her insides went squishy and she had a horrible urge to make a dash for it. Her reactions had intensified since her split from William. She wanted to race back to the house but he continued talking.
‘It was supposed to be a late lunch but I left my lunchbox out with the lid off while went to check on some dimensions for this place, and when I returned somebody was tucking into it. On the plus side, he didn’t get my apple as I’d already eaten most of that. However, he did manage to wolf down the core and pips.’ Ronnie’s eyebrows rose and fell in embarrassment at being caught out.
‘I am so sorry,’ she started. The man chuckled. It was a genial laugh.
‘It’s not a problem. I wasn’t very hungry.’
‘He’s such a scavenger and it’s not like I don’t feed him or anything. He hoovers up everything and anything he finds. He’s a glutton. I’m sure he’ll make himself ill one day.’ She was babbling to conceal her discomfort.
‘He looks healthy enough to me.’ Ronnie’s stomach gurgled in agreement. ‘That, though, looks nasty,’ he replied, pointing at her torn jeans. Blood, vivid scarlet in colour, was seeping through the gaping hole.
‘It’s nothing. A scratch.’
‘I’ve got a medical kit in the car. I’ll put some antiseptic cream on that cut.’
Ronnie continued to regard her with abject misery and licked her hand.
‘No, it’s fine. Really.’ The familiar dread was rising in her chest. Soon her body would react and she might lose all strength in her legs or freeze, and the man would think she was crazy or worse. Part of her insisted that the reactions were in her mind, that none of them need happen, that she should be able to have a conversation with the man. But the other half of her mind, the half that couldn’t cope with meeting people, screamed she should leave. She was stymied by fear and grateful when Ronnie pressed his damp nose into her hand, giving her the confidence to speak again, albeit weakly. ‘I thought he’d run away to find his girlfriend.’
‘Dogs, eh? Mine was always going off investigating. She used to come to the sites with me but on Thursday afternoons she always disappeared. It took me over a month to find out what she was up to. She had worked out that the fish and chip van parked up at the village green on Thursdays so she’d go down and beg for food or raid the bins afterwards for leftover chips. I still miss her.’ He looked into the distance, a faraway look in his eyes.
Chloe loved dogs and couldn’t imagine being without Ronnie. Her lips unfroze and she asked. ‘What was she called?’
‘Sophie. She was a long-haired German Shepherd. She had a shaggy coat like a wolf’s and the most intelligent amber eyes. She was incredibly bright. I swear she understood every word I said. Got her for my thirteenth birthday. We were inseparable right up until I took her to the vet. Hardest thing in the world, saying goodbye to a loyal friend like that, but hey, that’s life. You have to enjoy the good times and remember them with fondness. Bet Ronnie has had his moments.’ He gave another smile but his eyes hung on to the sad memory. She ought to say something to comfort him but could think of nothing. That was her trouble: she had little or no conversation. William would get cross with her when they used to go out to work-related events for being tongue-tied and awkward…
‘Can’t you make an effort?’
‘I am.’
‘Try harder. Sometimes it’s embarrassing being with you.’
That was before he stopped taking her along. It had suited her to be left out. She couldn’t face crowds of people, let alone strangers. She’d become physically ill every time she was expected to attend a function. Her anxiety would get out of control and they’d end up rowing about it before the event which only made matters worse; Chloe would attend and inevitably end up doing something stupid, drop a glass, fall over, stare at her feet all evening or say something that made William despair of her. The fact was that she was simply unable to mix with people. The disorder had contributed to their marriage breakdown. William’s new love, Lilly, was no doubt gregarious and a delightful companion – the opposite of Chloe.
She was brought back to the present by Ronnie’s stomach which gurgled again and was followed by an especially loud outburst of flatulence. The uncontrollable chattering began again,
‘Ronnie! Sorry. We’re sorry. He’s sorry. Aren’t you, Ronnie? So sorry.’
The man chuckled. ‘Poor chap. He’s probably nervous about moving.’
‘It’s more likely the cowpats he was eating this morning. I try to keep him away from them. I’ll have my work cut out here. Lots of fields. Lots of cowpats.’ She wished she’d just shut up but as usual, she had no control over her actions. He didn’t seem to mind and kept smiling at her.
‘I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Alex Collins, Thomas’s son. I’m the project manager here, so you’ll be seeing me about. I also live here, over there.’ He pointed to the first property, the one-storey barn with the arched porch she and Faith had driven past on their arrival.
‘I’m Chloe Piper.’
‘I know,’ he replied. ‘Dad told me all about you.’
Chloe groaned inwardly. ‘Everything?’
‘If you are referring to a certain “naughty” book that caused controversy, then yes, he told me everything. If it is about your fetish for eating noodles with knitting needles or that you wear a yellow neoprene diving suit to bed then no, I must have found out about that on Wikipedia. But don’t worry, all your secrets are safe with me.’
She smiled in spite of herself. ‘Thomas said he wouldn’t tell anyone.’
‘I’m the exception. He tells me everything. I have to know who’s up here. Don’t want any axe murderers moving in, do we?’
‘Keep it to yourself, please. I’ve moved here to protect my privacy. I don’t want any more members of the clergy or congregation lobbing sex toys at my windows at night.’ Her eyes widened at the
memory.
He raised an eyebrow.
‘Actually, so far I’ve only had one other altercation and that was with one of the members of the church choir. Told me I’d go to hell. From what I gather, hell will be much like the orgies they were enjoying each weekend.’
His mouth turned upwards. ‘I thought you made it all up.’
‘I made a lot of it up but it was inspired by actual events. I base my books on observations and on what I overhear.’
‘I’d better watch out then. Can’t have you writing about the worm-charming festival, the shin-kicking festival, the nettle-eating contest, or the Horn Dance.’
‘You’re joking. Surely those don’t exist,’ she said, mouth opening in surprise.
‘Actually, they are real events that take place in villages but not all of them here, although the Horn Dance is famous in these parts, especially at the village nearby. It’s performed by six deer-men who wear reindeer horns. The dancers follow a ten-mile course and perform the ritual in twelve different locations in and around the village, whilst the musician plays tunes on a melodeon with accompaniment from a triangle.’
Ronnie’s belly grumbled again. He thumped his tail hoping to have been forgiven.
‘Sounds… fun.’ She suddenly felt awkward again. ‘I’d better go back. My friend, Faith, is staying tonight and has already got designs on the bottle of champagne your father gave us. And Ronnie needs … well, Ronnie needs charcoal tablets at the moment.’
‘He’s always welcome to share my food. I can’t say I’d met a sniffer dog before that could track down ham and mustard sandwiches.’
‘He can smell ham ten miles away. It’s his favourite food apart from cheese and onion crisps.’
The corners of his eyes crinkled at her words. The snow was thickening once more and light was fading. A woman’s voice called his name. Neither had noticed the car that had pulled up outside Alex’s house or the woman and child who were standing by his front door. The woman shouted again and Chloe saw the child wave in their direction. Alex moved into view and raised a hand in response, then pointed at her leg.