The Cottage of New Beginnings

by Suzanne Snow

  ‘Thank you for checking on me,’ she said casually, sliding a mug into place and pressing a button on the coffee machine to pour the first drink.

  ‘I wouldn’t have knocked if the lights hadn’t been on. May I?’ She nodded, and he pulled out a chair and sat down. Annie managed to suppress a smile as she looked at his flattened hair and liquid blue eyes. ‘I was on my way home and thought I’d just drive by, make sure you were okay. I didn’t want you to feel afraid.’

  She was taken aback by his thoughtfulness towards her and didn’t want to contemplate the reason why. She took a deep breath before replying quietly. ‘I’m glad you did.’ She looked away as she told him the truth, pouring another drink for herself. She took her time, eventually handing him a steaming cup of strong black coffee.

  The wind still hadn’t eased and she shivered, glancing nervously into the blackness beyond the window. Despite Jon’s assurance Annie was nonetheless afraid that another catastrophe would clobber the cottage before the storm was done, and she swallowed a mouthful of her coffee anxiously.

  ‘Annie, I’m staying here until it’s over,’ he said firmly.

  She looked at him, startled. She shook her head, disturbed by the idea of his being with her all through the night and worse, leaving in the morning with half the village watching. ‘I’m fine, really.’ She was afraid of being on her own with him for so long, having to disguise her confused feelings and the persistent impulse to reach out to him. ‘You should go.’

  ‘Only if you really want me to.’ Jon lowered his voice as he leant forward to watch her steadily. ‘Would you rather be alone?’

  Her first thought was to nod and say of course she would, but she wouldn’t, not really. It was only midnight, and as she imagined the long hours ahead she knew she didn’t want him to leave, and her whispered ‘no’ was cautious. She hoped the sudden glint of pleasure she saw in his eyes wasn’t reflected in her own and stood up hastily.

  ‘I’ll light the fire.’ She grabbed matches from a shelf and hurried into the sitting room. She rearranged the logs and struck a match from the box, holding it against the newspaper until it caught light. Soon sparks began to flutter into flames, turning the paper into charred crumbs, and she turned away from the growing warmth to settle onto a seat.

  She had arranged the two cream sofas on either side of the fireplace with the antique coffee table in between, and despite still wanting to change the curtains and paint the walls, the cottage was beginning to feel more like her home. Jon emerged from the kitchen, holding their mugs and his phone, and she pointed to the coffee table so he could set them down. She curled her legs underneath her, trying to relax as she watched him. He bent down and removed his wet shoes.

  ‘Do you mind?’

  She laughed, shaking her head as he propped his shoes not too near the hearth. The sound of the fire grew louder as the logs began to burn. It smelled of damp wood and burning dust, and she wrinkled her nose, remembering that the first task every morning when she was here as a child was re-laying and lighting the fire.

  His eyes were waiting patiently when she lifted her head, remembering his comments last Sunday and after the party. She wondered where to begin a conversation, how to keep things simple between them. But she was having the strangest feeling that, already, the two of them had progressed beyond simplicity and she was fearful of what might happen next. Finally she spoke, trying to keep her tone vague.

  ‘What was the village like when you were a child?’ she asked, letting him know she hadn’t forgotten what they had talked about on that first day here in the cottage. ‘It must seem different now.’

  Jon smiled wryly, tipping his head sideways to consider her question. ‘It’s very different and yet somehow the same, if that doesn’t sound crazy.’

  Annie shook her head; it felt that way to her, too. She waited for him to continue, noticing the wistful expression in his eyes.

  ‘I thought I’d live here forever. Farming was all I ever wanted to do, and I never saw the inside of the house until I was dragged to bed.’ He grinned, and she couldn’t help smiling again as she thought of what he might have been like as a boy. ‘Most of the people we knew worked on the land in some way or another, and it never occurred to me that I’d be any different. It was only when my mom went back to America that everything changed.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly, wishing she’d never asked the question. ‘I didn’t mean to drag up something you’d probably rather forget.’

  ‘Don’t apologise,’ he said gently, the grin fading away. He moved forward until his elbows were propped on his thighs. Annie’s eyes drifted to the length of his legs and unnerving thoughts fluttered through her mind. ‘My mother had been used to travelling with her parents – my grandfather worked for the U.S. State Department and they’d lived in Europe for some time. She met my father in London and once they married, my mother discovered she hated being in a small village and couldn’t wait to escape. She didn’t understand my father’s ties to the estate or his determination that his children would be born here. I guess it was inevitable they wouldn’t stay together but it was a long time until I could forgive her for taking me away. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be boring.’

  ‘You’re not.’ Annie was quick to reassure him, wondering when he had last spoken of these things. ‘Please, don’t stop.’ Her eyes returned to his face and Jon looked at her, sighing as he dragged a hand through his damp hair, his shoulders slumped. She saw his face become masked with something darker, more painful, and his voice lowered.

  ‘They both tried for full custody when they split and eventually my dad lost. I wasn’t allowed to come home very often because Mom was convinced that Dad would find a way to keep me here, so I didn’t see a lot of him when I was growing up. She’d never have admitted it, but I think she used some diplomatic contacts to swing things in her favour. I didn’t realise until I was about thirteen that she must have suffered from depression for most of her adult life, and it worsened as she got older until she became an alcoholic. I saw her deteriorate into somebody unrecognisable whenever she drank, and I swore that I would never let it happen to me. I guess I’m still afraid that it could, but my faith helps to keep things in perspective.’

  Shocked, Annie stared at him in silence.

  ‘She died last year.’ Despite the blunt words and composure in his voice, Annie saw grief in his eyes, and she held herself still as he continued. ‘She wasn’t always careful with her medication, and one evening she mixed it up and took too much. She wasn’t found until the following morning and died two days later.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Annie whispered, her heart breaking for the pain he must have felt. ‘I had no idea.’

  Jon gave her a quick smile as the sorrow disappeared back into its hidden corner. She resisted an urge to place her hand against his face to try and smooth away the anguish.

  ‘I can usually deal with death,’ he said quietly, leaning back in his seat. Annie was thankful now that her hand had remained by her side, afraid of where her impulsive gesture might have taken them. ‘But I don’t know if she did it deliberately or not. She might have lived if she’d been found sooner. And I really hate the thought of her lying there alone and I still wonder if she was waiting for somebody to come and save her.’

  Annie’s eyes filled with tears for him and this time, instinctively, she moved nearer, inching forward until her fingers breached the space between them and found his hand. It was warm and softer than she’d expected, and when her thumb reached his palm, he turned his hand over, gently entwining his fingers around her own. She was vaguely aware of the heat of the fire close by, but it was a quite different warmth that blazed across her skin and sent her senses soaring. And then, slowly, he released her. She didn’t know what to say, if she could ever find the words to console him without seeming banal and was staggered by how much she wanted to. His gaze never left her as she sat back, restoring the physical distance between them as the emotional one b
egan to shrink.

  ‘What did you read at university?’ She met his look steadily, telling him with her eyes that what he had shared with her mattered, even as they spoke of other things. Jon paused, and she knew he understood.

  ‘Social and political sciences. I developed an interest in politics when I lived in Washington, but came back to the UK to study at Cambridge.’

  ‘What about the farming?’

  He grinned. ‘Saved that for when I came home. I went back to college and did a course in land management. Everything had moved on while I was away and I needed to catch up.’

  Annie slipped down to the floor and threw some more logs onto the fire. She wriggled back against the sofa, drawing her knees up and resting her chin on them as she wrapped her arms around her legs. The storm seemed less wild now, although she could still hear the drumming of water against the windows. It was only a moment until Jon joined her, pushing the coffee table away as he settled opposite her. She noticed that the warmth of the fire had dried his clothes and his shirt no longer clung to his chest.

  ‘Annie, may I ask you a question?’ He stretched out long legs as she nodded, and she felt the touch of his knee against her foot. ‘Why did you decide to come back to Thorndale, and not just sell the cottage or let it?’

  Everything that had been so important to her about Iain McFarlane before she came here was beginning to seem less so, especially now, and she stared into the fire as she wondered how much to share. Finally she lifted her head to find the startling blue of Jon’s gaze waiting for her, drawing her into its depths.

  ‘You’ve probably heard I was engaged, and it ended.’ It wasn’t a question and Annie saw Jon nod as she took a deep breath. ‘We’d talked about having a family one day but it was never certain I would be able to.’ She paused, her mind taking her back to those first days of painful, heavy periods followed later by tests and a diagnosis of endometriosis. Hormone treatment had followed before and after surgery while Iain held her hand and reassured her. ‘At first it didn’t matter but once I started to feel better, we agreed to try for a family straight after the wedding because my condition could get worse over time and there was no point in waiting. Iain really wanted children and the longer we were together, the more important it was to him.’ She hesitated, her voice dropping to a low whisper. ‘But he left me for someone else and I heard a couple of months later that she was pregnant.’

  She hadn’t told Kirstie everything. Such disclosure seemed to belong to a stormy night settled indoors by the fireside while wind and rain thundered through the darkness outside, telling someone who was a stranger and yet seemed able to see into her soul. Jon didn’t need words to show her what he was thinking as he switched places to sit next to her and slid an arm around her shoulders. Annie stilled for a moment, feeling the solid warmth of his body against hers as he drew her close, and she relaxed, allowing herself to find peace and comfort in his gesture.

  The rise and fall of his breathing soothed her, bringing a quiet strength to her voice. ‘There didn’t seem much point in staying. My flat was already up for sale as we were supposed to be moving, and I left Edinburgh without really thinking what living here would be like. I still wake up in the mornings and wonder how I got here. But Molly and the cottage are the only real home I can remember, and I loved her for it.’

  ‘And she’s done it again,’ Jon said, his voice low against the diminishing storm. ‘Given you a home to be happy in.’ He paused. ‘Will you stay?’

  She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t lift her head to find his eyes and wonder at the question hovering in them, suddenly afraid that it was important to both of them, her head against his shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t know where else to go.’

  Gradually she drew away and he lifted his arm, removing it from her shoulders and returned to his former place, opposite her in front of the fire. Annie stared into the blaze, knowing she was tumbling headlong into sheer uncertainty, nervous of him and the way he was making her feel. Quietness surrounded them, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and occasional gust of wind outside, and she was thankful he couldn’t hear the racing of her heart.

  ‘Why did you want to become a teacher?’

  Annie smiled, beginning to relax again as she thought about Jon’s question. ‘Molly believed that having an education was the most important and liberating gift. She made teaching seem so essential, so inspiring there was no doubt in my mind that I would do the same. She never took her education or right to vote for granted.’

  ‘That’s a wonderful reason. She must have been very proud of you.’ He gave her a lazy grin as he lowered his voice. ‘What’s your secret for making a class behave?’

  She could feel warmth blooming on her cheeks at his comment, wishing she didn’t notice every little gesture as he rested long fingers on his thigh. ‘Clapping,’ she said promptly, and he grinned.

  Annie knew her tone matched his now, and she thought of what had passed between them this evening. A barrier had been demolished and she was already apprehensive of where they would be tomorrow, once they were no longer surrounded by firelight and shadows dancing through the darkness. She turned her head away, listening for the stillness outside. She knew the storm had disappeared into the night, leaving its chaos strewn all around. And, despite everything she had told herself very firmly, she felt only regret at the thought of him leaving.

  ‘It’s gone.’ She stood up, feeling the heat of the fire on her back as she headed for the kitchen. ‘I’ll bring your coat.’

  Jon didn’t disagree, and when she returned to the sitting room, he was pulling his shoes back on. She felt tense without knowing why as he shrugged the coat on as well and she handed him his mobile and keys. He followed her into the hall and before she opened the front door, she turned to him.

  ‘Thank you for staying.’ She didn’t quite meet his eyes as he towered above her. ‘I do appreciate it.’

  There was a moment when she thought he was going to touch her face, until he stepped out into the garden. She was astonished by the calmness around them, despite the rain still drizzling in the darkness, adding its dampness to the torrents that had come before. Annie resisted the impulse to check for villagers who might see him leaving her house in the early hours of the morning, hoping it was far too late for anybody to be nearby.

  ‘Night,’ Jon murmured, and she waited as he began to walk to his car. He took only a few paces before he surprised her and turned back to the cottage. With a couple of long strides, he was standing on the doorstep once more, his hair already becoming wet again as the misty rain settled on him. She clutched the door, nervousness forcing her heart to beat faster as she stared at his face illuminated by the light from the hall.

  ‘Annie,’ he said casually, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets as he looked at her. ‘Will you have dinner with me one evening this week?’

  There it was. She felt the blood rushing to her face as he asked the question she had wanted to avoid and yet had known would be inevitable since the first time he had come to her cottage. Every sensible thought screamed no, and every sense shrieked acceptance.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, so quietly she thought at first he hadn’t heard. But his uncertain smile lengthened into a grin that deepened the lines around his eyes until he turned. She watched him climb into the Land Rover and roar away before she finally closed the door, anticipation blending into a happiness she didn’t want to dismiss just yet.

  Chapter Twelve

  Annie woke early on Monday morning, stretching sleepily and trying to remember if everything so clear in her mind had really happened last night. A secret smile of pleasure turned into a laugh as she thought of Jon leaving only a few hours earlier and her easy acceptance of his invitation. But then it struck her. What had she done? Why had she agreed to have dinner with him? Returning to sleep was impossible and so she climbed out of bed and opened the curtains cautiously. The storm damage wasn’t as bad as she’d feared, and she was thankful. Her car wa
s still upright, even though a few branches in the lane weren’t, and the garden was littered with leaves and limp plants.

  Downstairs she peered nervously through the kitchen window. But Jon had been right, the snapped branch hadn’t inflicted as much harm as she had expected. She knew that the pantry would survive and began to think about how she was going to sort it all out. As if summoned by her thoughts, she heard a knock at the door and rushed to open it, revealing Jon, looking sharp and fresh in the morning sun.

  ‘You’re back!’ Annie cringed at her startled greeting, sure her eyes were giving away her thoughts along with her pleasure at seeing him again, and he grinned in response to her surprise.

  ‘Annie, this is Arthur Middleton, our facilities manager for the estate. I’ve brought him to help clear up the storm damage from last night.’

  As Jon moved aside, Annie noticed a middle-aged man with a toolbox in his hand. The older man stepped forward and tipped his head to her in polite greeting. She opened her mouth to refuse but Jon was quicker and held up a hand.

  ‘I know you can manage but that branch probably needs a chainsaw and he’s here to help. He’ll be done and out of your hair in no time.’

  Annie’s mouth closed with a snap as she tried to figure out how she felt about being managed so effectively by the man in front of her. Mulling over her options, she ultimately settled on feeling grateful for the assistance, but a quick sigh of exasperation escaped before she turned to Arthur. ‘I really appreciate your help, Mr Middleton. Thank you.’

  Arthur clearly took that as consent to begin work, and he promptly disappeared towards the back of the cottage. Annie turned back to Jon and was pleased to see he at least looked a little sheepish at his behaviour.

  ‘I would stay and do it myself, but I’m needed back on the estate.’ He paused, his eyes searching her face. ‘Annie, about last night. I’ll understand if you’ve changed your mind.’

  She heard the gentleness in his voice and was glad of the opportunity to be rational. She should explain that of course she couldn’t accept his invitation now that the shadows had slunk back into the night, and she was no longer surrounded by fear spinning out of control at the whim of the wind. But meeting his waiting gaze, she found that she couldn’t get the words out. ‘I haven’t changed my mind.’