The House at Greenacres

by The House at Greenacres (retail) (epub)

  ‘He’s perfect,’ Rich said, settling Luke in the crook of his arm and taking the rattle that Holly offered him. He held it in front of Luke’s face and the baby tapped it, then smiled when it made a noise.

  ‘How do we do this, Holly? I would like to be involved in Luke’s life and to help you in whatever way I can.’

  ‘We both need time to adjust, I guess.’

  ‘But when are you leaving? If you are, I mean…’

  ‘I don’t know if I will.’ The words escaped and Holly ran them over in her mind. She had made the decision without being aware of it. ‘I’m needed here, and to be honest, I need to be here.’

  ‘What about work? Did you have a job?’

  ‘Briefly. I did some temping, but when Luke came early, I had to quit.’

  ‘How did you manage?’

  ‘I had savings, remember.’

  There was ice in her tone, and Rich’s shoulders stiffened.

  ‘You used the deposit for Plum Tree Cottage on rent?’ He sounded devastated for her.

  ‘Some of it, and what I’d earned while I was able to work. Apart from rent and food, and some baby things, I wasn’t exactly out partying my money away.’

  ‘No, of course not.’ He kissed Luke’s head. ‘I’m glad you’re going to stay. It’ll give us time to work things out in terms of this little man. And please let me know what you need.’

  ‘I have most things already.’

  ‘But surely you need nappies and clothes and so on? I mean, I don’t know much about babies, but I do know that they grow.’

  ‘I’ll let you know. I haven’t had much time to think about all that since I came home.’

  ‘It must be difficult at Greenacres.’

  ‘More than you know.’ Holly’s mind strayed to the problems the vineyard was facing, and she realized that despite everything – the hurt, the tears, the recriminations and the grief – she had to stay and help fix things.

  ‘Holly… my mother… she’ll want to see Luke too, if you can find it in your heart to let her. And my father, of course.’

  ‘We need to take this one step at a time. I haven’t let him out of my sight since he was born. Those first weeks were so tough, and I worried I’d lose him.’ Her throat tightened and she tried to relax her shoulders, to elongate her neck and breathe slowly.

  ‘He was ill?’

  ‘He was strong, so he didn’t suffer any infections like some premature babies do, but even so, he had to stay in hospital for three weeks until they were sure his lungs were sufficiently developed. It’s hard for me to think about being without him.’

  ‘I understand that, Hols. I really do. We’ll do this at your pace. As I said, I don’t know much about babies, but I’ll learn quickly, I promise.’

  She nodded, then held out her arms for her son. She pressed him to her and breathed him in, holding him tight and keeping him safe. That was her job and she’d do it well, come what may…

  * * *

  Rich watched as Holly strapped the car seat into the back of the Range Rover. While she folded up the pram and packed it into the boot, he leant into the car and said goodbye to little Luke. It was one of the strangest mornings of his life, finally accepting and facing the fact that he was a father now, and that the woman he’d spent so many years of his life with was the mother of his child. But it wasn’t a bad feeling, not at all. Rich had once thought he’d never want children, never want to settle down, but sometimes life had a way of surprising you, of letting you know what you needed.

  He closed the door gently, then went round to Holly.

  ‘Any idea when I can next see him – and you?’

  ‘You have my number, so text or ring and we can sort something out.’

  He nodded. ‘I guess the weekend is too soon?’

  Holly paused. Was it too soon? Their meeting had gone well and she did want him to be involved in Luke’s life.

  ‘No. Come for lunch if you like, on Sunday.’

  ‘I’d love that!’ He smiled, then stepped towards her as if he was about to hug her, but she moved backwards and her cheeks flushed.

  ‘Sorry, I… Old habits, I guess.’

  ‘It’s okay. Just… you know… it’s probably not a good idea to get too close, is it?’

  Holly was right. He’d let her down badly last year and she had every right to be angry with him. He’d had time to think things through and he knew that he had cared about her, but he also knew that he’d held his feelings back, that he’d allowed fear to dominate his life.

  ‘No… I guess not.’

  ‘It would only make everything even more confusing, and I just… I can’t, Rich. Not now.’

  Holly got into the car and closed the door behind her. The electric window opened and she smiled at him. ‘See you Sunday.’

  Rich stood and watched until the Range Rover had disappeared down the country lane, then he turned and walked back to the railings and gazed down at the sea below. It swirled around, lapping against the rocks, pulled this way and that, uncertain of its intended direction. Until he’d gone away, Rich had felt like that for as long as he could remember. His head was so much clearer now, and he was glad, because the news that he had a child he hadn’t been aware he had created was mind-blowing. In fact, it was downright terrifying. What an enormous responsibility! But Luke was here now and Rich had to get used to the idea, and fast, or he could ruin this chance to be a dad to his son.

  Seeing Holly again, being close to her, had also opened his eyes to how badly he had behaved and to what he had lost when he threw their relationship away. She was a good woman, a loving mum, and his son was lucky to have her to care for him. It was obvious that she adored Luke and would do anything to protect him. Everything she’d been through showed just how strong she was, and how brave; she could have crumbled, but she hadn’t. She’d kept going for their child, through difficult times, and she’d done an amazing job of motherhood so far.

  Rich felt ashamed that he hadn’t been there for them, that he’d let her and their son down. What kind of a man did that make him? But then last year he’d been at his lowest ebb and would likely have been more hindrance than help. There were no excuses for the past, but he would make things better for them all from here on in. He had a job now, he had prospects, and would provide for his son if Holly would let him.

  It would be too much to hope that she might also want him in her life again, and he wasn’t sure that it would be right for any of them. Her love had been deep and true, and a positive force in his life, and he’d brushed it off as though it was dust on his sleeve. He could see the hurt in her eyes and could tell that she was still wounded, cautious, hesitant. If he pushed her, she might flee, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to earn her trust, to prove that he was a decent human being who could be a decent father, even though that idea also unnerved him because he had no idea how or where he was going to start with it.

  But he had to start somewhere, and helping with Luke, getting to know his son, was probably a good place to begin. He was terrified of doing something wrong – after all, he had no idea about babies and their wants and needs – but he aimed to learn quickly. Gone were the days when he focused on fast cars and drinking games, on wild holidays and trying to forget about Dean. He knew he was still on a journey and that he had to monitor his own behaviour and reactions to situations; that he couldn’t take anything for granted, because if he took his eye off the ball, he could sink again. This new responsibility would be a challenge, but it was one he wanted to live up to. Holly had been his best friend, and if he wanted to have her friendship again, he’d need to prove that he was worthy of it.

  There was one other thing he could do; something he should have done a long time ago. He wanted to pick up a few things, so he’d head into town at the weekend to search for some inspiration. He had a feeling that a certain person would want to help.

  After all, this was a very big deal for his mum too.

  Chapter 9

 
The next morning, Holly left Luke with her granny so she could take a look around Greenacres. The three days since she’d returned had been chaotic, and she hadn’t had a chance to explore her old home.

  She let herself out of the back door and headed across the yard in the direction of the winery building. As she passed the window, her dad waved at her. He was engaged in conversation with one of the long-term employees, so she decided not to disturb them, but to go and take a look at the shop instead.

  There was a sign on the door telling customers the opening hours, which had been reduced considerably since Holly had last worked there. There was also a mobile number in case the shop was unattended for some reason, so customers could alert someone at the vineyard to their presence.

  Holly pushed the key into the lock and it turned easily. It was like stepping back in time.

  The smell of lavender and paper hit her first, followed by the smell of furniture polish. There was the counter with its mural of the vineyard in summer that Fran had painted, the old-fashioned till sitting on top, and the shelves that took up the walls to the right and left. However, unlike in the past, the shelves were almost bare. There were some bottles of wine, a few of the decanters that Holly had ordered in as an add-on sale and some boxes of complimentary glasses that they’d given away with larger orders.

  The wall behind the counter was naked. Previously it had been adorned with Fran’s beautiful paintings, and now that they were gone, Holly could see how much they had added to the shop. To her right, the shelves that had held Fran’s olive bowls, vases, jugs and tiny models of Greenacres were empty except for a film of dust. On the top one, a can of furniture polish sat with a yellow duster, clearly abandoned mid clean.

  It made her sad to see this small corner of the vineyard in disarray. As a child, she had helped her mum out in the shop. On quiet days, her mum had told her stories about the grapes, and about her own childhood, as they’d sat on stools behind the counter and drunk endless cups of tea. Sometimes her dad had joined them, and he’d spoken about his life in Australia and about coming to Cornwall and falling in love with Holly’s mum. She had loved to listen to her parents, to watch how they gazed at each other and to feel that she was a part of something very special indeed.

  After her mum had died, Holly had run the shop and built it into a successful part of the vineyard business. Customers came to buy wine, and Holly would ensure that they went away with extras like the lavender pouches and Fran’s artwork. She had been good at anticipating what people wanted, then selling them something else too. It had been enough for her, the small world that she had lived in. Her dreams of travelling had been put away like the dolls she’d played with as a child, and she’d stayed where she felt safe and loved. And there had been Rich. He had been everything she’d wanted and needed and she had clung to what they had. She had thought she could love him enough for both of them.

  She had been wrong.

  She went behind the counter, pulled out a stool and sat down, resting her elbows on the counter. Then she buried her face in her hands and cried.

  She cried for her mum, for her dad, for her granny and grandpa, for Fran and her lost sales, and she cried for what she herself had lost when Rich had pulled out of buying Plum Tree Cottage. She had thought she had her life sorted, then everything had spiralled out of her control and changed beyond recognition.

  At last she sat up and wiped her eyes on her shirtsleeve.

  Today was a new day. She was home.

  She was going to help her dad to save Greenacres, only this time it would be better than ever before. And she knew exactly how she was going to start. She pulled her mobile from her pocket and dialled Fran’s number.

  * * *

  ‘I’m not so sure about this, Dad.’ It was two days later, and Holly was sitting in the passenger seat of her dad’s Range Rover.

  ‘It’ll be fine and it will do you good. I bet you’ve not had an evening out in at least eight months.’

  ‘No, but… I don’t mind.’

  ‘Holly, you’ll only be at Fran’s, and I’ll come and pick you up later.’

  ‘At ten?’

  ‘Yes, or earlier if you want. Luke will be fine.’

  Holly peered into the back of the car, where her son was strapped into his seat.

  ‘What if he needs me?’

  ‘I did raise a baby, you know, and you’re sitting right next to me. I know how to feed and change Luke, how to sing to him and read to him if he’s fractious. And Granny will be there too.’

  ‘Okay…’ Holly unclipped her seat belt and opened the car door. ‘Promise you’ll ring me immediately if there’s a problem.’

  ‘I promise. I love him too, you know.’

  ‘I do know that.’ She smiled at her dad. Of course he loved Luke too. He was a kind, big-hearted man who had always doted on her. Loving her son would be second nature to him.

  She closed the door gently to avoid disturbing the sleeping baby. It was fine; it would all be fine. She had the chance to spend an evening with Fran, to relax and let her hair down. Hell, she could even have a glass of wine. Or two…

  She opened the gate, then walked up the path and knocked on the door. From within came the barking of several dogs and the scratching of claws on the flagstone floor. She heard a stern command to sit and stay, then the door opened and Fran stood there wearing denim dungarees covered in wet patches, with a spotted scarf tied around her head and a small grey dog wriggling under her right arm.

  ‘Holly!’ Fran grabbed her and gave her a one-armed hug. ‘Come on in.’

  Holly wrinkled her nose at the strong doggy aroma that wafted off her friend, but composed her features and stepped into the hallway. Three dogs sat in a row, their tails wagging as they eyed Holly excitedly.

  ‘Stay!’ Fran pointed at the dogs.

  ‘They won’t rush me, will they?’ Holly asked, only half joking.

  ‘No, they’re all well trained. It’s this little scamp I have to watch at the moment.’ Fran rubbed the scruffy grey head and the dog squirmed, trying to break free from her embrace. ‘He’s desperate to say hello.’

  ‘Oh…’ Holly held out her hand and let the lurcher sniff her palm. He gave it a swift lick, and she grimaced as the warm, wet tongue met her skin.

  ‘Worse things you could do than accept a canine kiss.’ Fran waggled her eyebrows, then indicated the row of dogs. ‘You’ll remember Crosby, my golden Lab, and Scamp, the whippet, then this is Dust Bunny… I have no idea what her parents were.’

  ‘Yes, I met Crosby and Scamp before I left… Hello, Dust Bunny.’

  The dog blinked up at her and shuffled closer.

  ‘I’m watching you, Dust Bunny,’ Fran warned, and it shuffled backwards with a gentle whine.

  ‘What’s the new one called?’ Holly asked.

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve tried to name him, but I can’t come up with anything that seems right. Perhaps you can help me.’

  Holly gazed at the dog, trying to think of a suitable name. It had been hard enough choosing one for her son; in the end, she’d named him after one of the nurses at the hospital who had cared for him in the days after his birth.

  ‘I’m going to set him down now. Are you ready?’

  ‘I guess so.’

  Fran put the dog on the floor and Holly braced herself. The pup’s eyes widened, then he shook his head, wagged his tail and leapt at her, causing her to take a step backwards. Even though he was small, his enthusiasm gave him momentum and power.

  She reached down and patted him, and he immediately flipped over onto his back. She looked at Fran, wondering if she’d done something to upset him.

  ‘He’s offering you his belly to stroke. It’s a sign of trust and submission. He likes you.’

  As Holly rubbed the dog’s belly, she heard Fran say, ‘Go on then.’ She was suddenly flanked by the other three dogs, and she held her breath as she was licked, sniffed and showered with canine affection.

  ‘That’s it
, dogs! Enough for now. Let Holly get up.’

  Holly staggered to her feet and Fran grinned at her.

  ‘They love you as much as I do.’

  ‘Ha! Now I stink.’

  ‘My dogs are clean.’ Fran’s grin had dropped from her face.

  ‘I know that. What I meant was that they all licked me and…’ Holly looked down at her black top and jeans, which were covered in hair. ‘I didn’t mean to sound rude, Fran, gosh…’

  ‘You’re still so easy to wind up.’ Fran winked at her.’ I know you weren’t being rude. Doggy drool does tend to be a bit whiffy. Anyway, come on through and I’ll pour you a drink.’

  Holly followed Fran through the airy hallway with its flagstone floor, open staircase and doorway to the lounge. The cottage kitchen was just as she remembered it, with dark beams on the white ceiling, ancient yellow Aga against the back wall, apron-fronted sink and green wooden cabinets with chips and missing handles. She was hit by a wave of memories from childhood as she walked over to the round table and pulled out a chair. She’d sat here with Fran while they’d revised for exams, talked about school, boys and the future; while they’d played games at Christmas time with Fran’s parents and while they’d put the world to rights.

  The dogs settled, two of them on the old sofa near the Aga and one in a fluffy round bed in the corner. The grey lurcher came and sat at Holly’s feet. She smiled at him but kept her hands in her lap, not wanting to encourage him to start licking her again.

  The kitchen smelt of spices and woodsmoke, a familiar combination that made Holly relax, and as the tension seeped from her shoulders, she realized how tightly she’d been holding herself.

  ‘Red or white?’ Fran held up two bottles.

  ‘Do you know, I was in such a rush that I forgot to bring wine. And my family owns a vineyard!’ Holly shook her head.

  ‘It’s okay, chick, I have plenty here… the advantages of having an Italian papa. The cellar is well stocked.’

  ‘I’ll have white, please.’ Holly removed her coat and hung it on the back of the chair.