Escape to Honeysuckle Hall

by Rebecca Raisin

  ‘What do we get?’ I think of all the people I’ve commissioned to work, and so far their prices have seemed more than fair.

  ‘New people prices, of course. Different to someone who’s known their families for forty years.’

  ‘Small towns, eh?’ Maya says with a smile. ‘Where’s this pub then?’ she asks, folding her arms against the evening breeze. I fairly freeze, with so much of my flesh showing. When my teeth start chattering, I hurry them along.

  ‘At the end of the high street. It’s cosy and warm, full of locals and gossip. I’m sure Orly’s name would have been mentioned once or twice in the last few weeks.’

  ‘Urgh,’ I groan. ‘I can imagine. Crazy cat lady from the big smoke buys haunted property. Last seen chasing small terrified children away.’

  Esterlita’s eyes widen. ‘You heard?’

  ‘What?’ I say.

  She clocks my expression. ‘Oh … nothing.’ She quickly averts her eyes.

  Have you heard about the new woman? She wore a red sequin top instead of a dress for a quiet night at her local. Rumoured to be unhinged. Kill me.

  ‘Here we are,’ Esterlita says, gesturing to a pint-size pub that has a lean to it as if it’s in constant battle with woolly weather but is just hanging on. The thatched Tudor style brings back memories of growing up in a small town that centred around visits to the local.

  A ruckus floats from the open windows; the sound of so many people unwinding on a Friday night. When I peek inside, I see it’s jam-packed with people clustered in groups around the bar, or at tables. As if anyone will notice us! This is the perfect setting to remain invisible.

  ‘Let’s find a table,’ I say. ‘My stomach is eating itself, I’m so hungry.’

  Esterlita walks in and we trail behind. The noise is almost deafening. The Firecracker pushes her way to the bar and waves us over. ‘Orly!’ she yells and suddenly the din stops. The place goes completely silent and all eyes land on me. I freeze like a statue as panic hits. Yikes. Just as I’m willing my body to engage, to make a run for it, I make contact with those lovely blue eyes that are impossible to forget and I find comfort there. He edges past a few people and makes his way to me.

  ‘Orly.’ He holds out his hand. I take it and pull him close to me so I can hide behind his muscly chest. I rest my head against him and wonder if I’m now invisible enough. I knew this was a bad idea!

  ‘Leo,’ I muffle, wondering what he tastes like before I catch myself. What he tastes like? What is he … an ice cream? A taco! Get ahold of yourself, woman!

  ‘Your dress, it’s so ah … red.’

  I’m going to kill Esterlita with my secateurs. ‘Thanks,’ I say, tugging the dress down with my free hand.

  It’s only then I realise Leo was probably meaning to shake my hand, not have me bury my face in his chest and dream of eating him for dinner.

  Note to self: don’t skip lunch again. I can’t think straight when I’m hungry.

  I promptly let go and let out a nervous laugh as the patrons of the Tipsy Tadpole slowly resume their conversations. Without their scrutiny I slowly lower my shoulders, which are somewhere up around my ears. How I miss The Real Housewives!

  ‘Well, I best be off home.’

  He frowns. ‘But you only just arrived.’

  ‘Right. Erm.’ The word scatterbrained comes to mind …

  Maya finally finds her voice. ‘Hi, I’m Maya, Orly’s friend from London and you are …?’

  ‘Hey nice to meet you. I’m Leo, the carpenter hoping to help out with the repairs for the camp.’

  ‘Ooh, Leo. Yes, I’ve heard all about you.’

  He actually blushes.

  ‘Nothing bad!’ I quickly add. ‘Nothing good, either!’ I reassure him. He tilts his head. ‘What I mean to say is, it was all above board, all very professional.’

  He laughs, his perfect pearly whites on display. How do some men have it all? It’s a ruse though, all smoke and mirrors and I remind myself that behind his supreme good looks probably lies another schemer, like Harry. Just because he’s from a small town doesn’t make him wholesome, even though that’s kind of the vibe he’s got.

  He blushes a deeper pink. ‘That’s good to hear. Did you get my quote? I hope it was OK. If you need to amend it in any way, I can go over it again with you.’

  The quote! ‘Maya surprised me with a visit, so I haven’t had a chance, but I promise I’ll take a look as soon as—’

  Maya nudges me. ‘Actually, it’ll probably be better if you go over it together, right, Orly? You really want to nail down those figures.’

  I elbow her in the ribs for good measure. ‘I don’t want you to go to any trouble.’

  ‘No trouble,’ he says. ‘How about I pop over tomorrow around lunchtime?’

  Before I can form words, Maya says, ‘Perfect. And why not stay for lunch tomorrow after you and Orly have gone through the quote?’ She elbows me back.

  ‘If I’m not imposing?’

  ‘The more the merrier.’

  My life is being orchestrated before my very eyes and I’m not sure how to regain control. I get it, my friends want me to fall in love, or more worryingly lust, but they just don’t understand. I can’t move on as quickly as all that. Besides, Leo is not my type. Not anymore. The next man for me is going to be the sort who doesn’t stand out. Who isn’t devastatingly gorgeous. Who isn’t swoon-worthy. I’m done with men like him. They’re not ready to settle down and I’m not nursing any more broken hearts if I can help it. Harry was one in a long line of guys who broke my trust in one way or another. I am hopeless with men, hopeless. I can’t seem to tell who’s genuine, and while Leo gives me the impression he is, it’s been proven I cannot trust my own judgement.

  Leo brings me back to the now by planting a hand on my waist. ‘Let me help you find a table, or you’ll never get served in here,’ he says, playing the chivalrous sort.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, ignoring Maya’s cheese-eating grin.

  He leads us to a cosy corner, which is mercifully quieter due to a small room divider. ‘Will you join us?’ Maya says, as Esterlita comes barrelling in, holding several exotic blue cocktails with little umbrellas and a piece of pineapple wedged onto the glass. She’s transported me back to the Eighties and I only wish I had a pair of legwarmers right about now!

  ‘I’d love to but I’ve got an early job tomorrow, before I pop over to the hall. Enjoy your night.’ He gives me a nod before he leaves and seems to take all the air in the room with him. All the joy too. It’s not real, I remind myself. It’s a ploy to weaken women’s resolve. I remember Harry having this exact same effect on me, and look how that played out.

  I slump over the table. ‘God, that was so awkward! What was that?’

  ‘The man is smitten, methinks!’ Esterlita booms.

  I scoff. ‘As if, Es. And I didn’t mean Leo, I meant why did the place fall silent like that? I’ve never felt so exposed in my entire life!’

  ‘You’re the new girl, that’s why.’

  ‘Let’s hope someone else comes along soon then.’ I’m only a novelty because I’m new, and I guess that’s expected in a small town, right?

  Esterlita waves me away. ‘Of course not! Soon you’ll be part of the furniture and won’t get a second glance, which is why you have to act now while you’ve got the spotlight. You have your choice of men while you’re hot property!’

  ‘Urgh, no thanks.’

  ‘Which eligible bachelor would you suggest then?’ Maya asks, leaning her arms on the table.

  ‘Over there, see the one with the grey hair, very debonair – that’s Matthew, fifty-something, owns a distillery, from a good family, never married.’

  ‘Fifty-something, Es? I’m thirty-five.’

  She raises a brow. ‘He’s got a lot of money. And look, he’s one of those grey wolves, isn’t he?’

  I laugh. ‘A silver fox, you mean.’

  ‘Whatever. Same thing. You don’t like him, Orly? Is it because he’s ne
ver been married? Stinks like a secret, doesn’t it? Like he’s hiding something? Probably into bondage, and M and S.’

  I don’t correct her this time and try, with all my might, to hold in laughter.

  ‘Yeah, looks like an M and S man to me,’ Maya says grinning. ‘Who else?’

  ‘OK, if she wants younger, then there’s Patrick over there. Loves older women. He’s only twenty-two or three. But hold on to your money, Orly. There was a bit of a scandal last year when he broke up with his thirty-eight-year-old girlfriend. Rumour has it he demanded maintenance from her, for services rendered if you get my drift.’ She winks and blinks just in case her meaning isn’t obvious.

  ‘Wow, no, avoid him. Next?’

  She shrugs. ‘It’s a small town. There’s really only Leo left. If she wants a looker, that is. There’s plenty of others, but most of them look like they’ve been hit in the face with a frying pan.’

  The laughter I’ve held in check for so long bursts out and soon we’re all clutching our bellies.

  ‘This is why she has to move fast. Men don’t stay single long here. Orly has the advantage of being new. Mark my words, it won’t last forever.’

  ‘From your mouth to God’s ears,’ I say, and Esterlita hastily crosses herself.

  The sooner the new girl status is gone the better. A waitress takes our order and we settle down to dinner, drinking cocktails that taste like pure sugar.

  ‘So, what are we going to cook for the resident town hunk tomorrow?’ Maya asks.

  ‘What’s with you two? It’s like all you can think about is setting me up with someone, anyone, when I’ve got real-life, proper scary things to worry about right now.’

  Maya nods. ‘That’s true, you do have a lot of anxiety-inducing things to fret over, and I know you, Orly; if we don’t step in, you’re going to do the exact same thing you did in London, which is work yourself to the bone and miss out on living. You’ve moved away from all that, yet here you are working from sun up to sun down and probably until the early hours of the morning.’ There’s been a lot to do behind the scenes: sort insurances for campers, set up social media accounts, crunch numbers and panic, and plenty more besides.

  ‘I’m working a lot now. It won’t always be that way,’ I reassure her, but am I repeating the same old mistakes as before? ‘It’s the size of the mortgage that keeps me up at night. And whatever the costs of the repairs will be.’ It could all crumble before my eyes if I get too lax.

  ‘I can’t see how this can fail. Every time I mention it to someone at the hospital they’re all over me wanting details. I know it’s scary, but I think once word spreads, you’ll be inundated. An adventure camp for adults really appeals to people. I think you’re onto a winner but you also need to enjoy it. You need to schedule days off, so you can enjoy this new lifestyle.’

  ‘I’ll enjoy it when I know it’s viable. Until then, I just need to work hard to make sure viable becomes a reality. And the work is so different to Excès because this is all for me, and I’m enjoying it despite being covered in paint and grime most days and getting stalked by a homicidal chicken and a deadly spider.’

  ‘It’s just such a huge risk.’ Esterlita takes a slurp of her cocktail and adds, ‘Why not give up on the idea and make it a place for weddings? You could print your own money with that kind of business.’

  ‘No, no I don’t want to deal with any more bridezillas. I had my fair share of them at Excès. They prematurely aged me with all of their demands.’

  ‘What about looking for an investor?’ Maya says, sucking her gums and speculating.

  An investor? ‘No way. I don’t want to answer to anyone. I’ll be OK, I just need to focus hard at the beginning.’

  She shrugs. ‘It’ll give you a good cash injection and set the business up right from the start. Otherwise, you’re going to be chasing your tail from day one.’

  Esterlita tuts and makes a show of being put out. ‘You girls just don’t get it. Orly should hunt out a minor royal. Marry into nobility. Then the hall can become your fifth home. You’ll probably use it once a year for a weekend and spend the rest of your time at your castles with your horse-faced noble lady friends who drink tea with pursed lips and pinkie fingers poked out. You can fret about the family miscreant who secretly slugs out of a hip flask, but is the only one who knows how to have fun.’

  ‘Wow, when you paint such a tempting picture, Es, how could I refuse?’

  ‘It’s worth thinking about. I can see this kind of life for you, even though your lady-in-waiting would have to wrestle you into formal attire.’ She touches her nose as if she’s Mystic Meg or something.

  I laugh. ‘Did it come to you in a dream?’

  ‘It might’ve.’

  I shake my head.

  ‘If finding a lesser royal doesn’t work out and you’re feeling stressed about money, an investor could take that pressure off, Orly,’ Maya says. ‘You’d have extra funds for marketing and an advertising budget. You’d have someone to help with the camps. I mean, you say you love fitness but you only lasted five minutes in my boxing class. Who’s going to take the campers gorge scrambling or any of those other high-octane adventures you have planned?’

  ‘I was intending on beating my fear and doing it myself. How hard can it be?’

  ‘Hard. Very hard. And what if you get out of breath and give up like you did when I took you abseiling?’

  ‘I won’t give up.’

  ‘Or like when I took you to dance class?’

  ‘I wasn’t feeling well that day.’

  ‘Or when I took you to CrossFit?’

  ‘I hadn’t slept well.’

  ‘Or pole fitness?’

  ‘I was uncomfortable sliding up and down that pole. More so when that guy tried to tuck money into my active wear.’

  She rolls her eyes. ‘There was also the Bokwa class, aerial yoga, tai chi and salsa dancing just to name a few, and each and every time you sat on the sidelines. My point is, with a group of campers following you, their leader, you can’t sit on the edge and catch your breath. What I’m saying is an investor might be the answer to all your problems and then you can get that shut-eye at night. You’re fabulous at marketing and customer relations; there’s no one better than you. An investor would free you up to build the camp numbers and organise all those other fun activities like meditation evenings under the stars and planting the community garden.’

  She’s right in one sense. If my life depended on exercise I would gladly wither up and die. It’s just not my thing. It’s the exertion I don’t like, pushing my body to the limits, and for what? I’m more of a fan of incidental exercise, like running for cabs, pounding the pavement searching for rare stamp collections in long-forgotten dusty shops, building my biceps by drinking extremely large glasses wine, that kind of thing.

  Although, I don’t think an investor is the way to go. My dream includes me not being accountable to anyone anymore. Not being a yes person, not having to ask permission. I’ve had that kind of life up to my eyeballs. But of course, I have another plan …

  ‘I’m glad you mention my lack of fitness prowess because my cunning plan is to hire a camp leader, someone to run the more physical side of things, while I do the behind-the-scenes stuff. The slightly less athletic pursuits.’ Crafts. Candle making. Cookie decorating. That I can do. As long as I don’t have to bake the cookies – cooking is also not my forte but I plan to work on that here. ‘I know I’ll eventually need more staff, but for now, I just might get away with two of us. And then when the number of campers grow, our staff can grow.’

  ‘I’ll help too,’ Esterlita says. ‘You can pay me in food.’

  I laugh and throw an arm around her. ‘I don’t know about that. I’ve seen how much you eat. For a skinny person you sure can pack a lot away.’

  ‘It’s my Filipino metabolism. Don’t hate me for it.’

  The night continues and it’s only when I stand to find the loo that I remember the cringe-inducing seq
uined red dress, but a few cocktails in I find it funny rather than mortifying – although I won’t be wearing it ever again! It’s going to have a rather unfortunate accident, or at least that’s what I’m going to tell Esterlita when it never sees the light of day again.

  When the night comes to an end, and we zigzag home laughing and joking about inane things, it strikes me I haven’t felt this relaxed in ages. With my two friends by my side, I feel like I can take on the world, no matter what obstacles I may trip over along the way …

  Chapter 13

  Filmy sunlight streams through the sheer curtains and wakes me from a dream. Groggy, I try to snatch the memory back, but it’s fleeting, just out of reach. It’d been about the camp and off in the distance there’d been someone, blond and buff and … Leo. Leo, the lion with his unruly mane of golden locks. I shake the vision away. There’s work to be done.

  I throw back the blankets and don my robe. In the kitchen I make a pot of tea and wait for Maya who I know will already be outside pounding the pavement, running along one of the cobblestoned laneways, or in the woodlands, not because something is chasing her, just because she loves running. I suppose a heart surgeon has to keep in tiptop shape if she’s going to dole out orders about healthy living, diet and exercise.

  After I stuff my face with toast lathered in butter and marmalade, I wash and cut fruit for Maya, who tends to avoid fun things like carbs and saturated fats.

  When she arrives, a sweaty panting mess, I wave from my spot on the back deck that overlooks rows of fruit trees that still need a good prune to bring them back to life. After a quick shower she joins me.

  ‘What a beautiful day! This place is a tonic, Orly. I can’t believe I doubted you.’

  ‘Can I have that in writing?’ Birds chirp and the soft sunshine lulls us into a lazy daze. Once the back garden is tended, it will be even more relaxing; like a little oasis right here in Eden Hills.

  ‘You may not. What were you doing in the middle of the night?’ Maya asks. ‘Sounded as though you were scraping paint from the walls or something.’

  I freeze. I’d heard a scratching, rasping sound a few nights ago as if someone was trying to heft open a window using all their might. Impossible, because everything is locked form the inside, but still, kind of creepy. I’d figured it was just my overwrought mind playing tricks on me at bedtime but now Maya has heard it too. Last night, helped by the numerous glasses of bubbles and one too many cocktails I slept like a log. I hasten to think of an excuse. The last thing I want is Maya to run off screaming because she thinks the place is haunted. ‘Oh, yeah, just tidying up.’