The Cottage of New Beginnings

by Suzanne Snow

  ‘Who’s cooking for your brothers while you’re away?’ Annie asked, and the shutters came back down over his eyes as the smile faded.

  ‘My cousin. She’s a year older than me. Mum pays her to help.’

  ‘Your family must miss you,’ she said quietly, turning her head to look at him and he raised one shoulder in a silent shrug.

  She reached out, touching his arm gently. ‘Come on, let’s go and watch what’s left of the film. Do you know where to find the others?’

  He nodded, and they left the kitchen. Annie followed him through the house to a darkened sitting room, a huge TV screen dominating one wall. Heads turned as they walked in and she squeezed into a space at the end of a sofa. Nathan settled nearby on the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees. She couldn’t see Jon through the gloom, and she was glad as she tried to concentrate on the film.

  When it was over, she and Sam returned to the kitchen to rifle through the cupboards and dole out biscuits, making endless cups of hot chocolate for the ones who hadn’t remained behind in the television room. Nathan sat at the kitchen table and Annie was sure he saw everything, despite his casual indifference. Cara was nearby, and Annie sensed they were watching one another and determined not to betray it.

  ‘I didn’t realise this was such hard work.’ Annie was filling yet more mugs as Sam piled biscuits onto plates, watching them disappear faster than she could unwrap them.

  ‘It’s worth it. And thank you again, for coming. You’ve made it so much easier for us and it’s been lovely to have you part of it. Hasn’t it, Jon?’

  Annie hadn’t noticed Jon returning, and she couldn’t meet his eyes as he casually agreed with Sam. She looked up when a pretty blonde girl in a black top spoke to him. He had pulled out a chair from underneath the table and was holding a mug in one hand.

  ‘Is it true you lived in Kenya, before here? My dad said he didn’t know missionaries still existed. He’s never met one before.’

  Annie watched Jon as he thought about his answer and he grinned. ‘I did, yes. I didn’t have any specific plans then, I just wanted to go where God wanted me. I definitely didn’t expect to stay for six years.’

  ‘But why did you go?’

  Jon smiled. ‘Simple, really. When I was at university I met a girl who was already a Christian, and she asked me to go to Brazil with her during the summer holiday. I was madly in love with her, so I went.’ Everybody laughed at that, and Annie was reminded of their date, when he had told her of the girl he had wanted to marry.

  Jon leaned forward with his arms across his thighs in a gesture Annie already knew so well. ‘That first mission changed my life. I saw what it meant to really live by faith, with the certainty of knowing who Jesus is and how that changes lives.’

  There was a hushed silence in the room, and he smiled, softening his expression without diminishing the impact of his words. ‘But it was months before I felt completely certain about my own faith and after I graduated, I worked in London until the right opportunity came along to re-train.’

  He paused as a few more people crept in to listen. ‘I know some of you are thinking about faith right now and I’ve been there. Not sure what to do, whether it’s real. It’s real for me and I can’t tell you that choosing faith is an easy option because it isn’t always, decisions sometimes get tougher. But Charlie, Sam or I am always here to talk through anything you want to know. Think about it. God bless you.’

  For a moment there was silence around the room as Jon finished. Gradually people began to move, reaching for food and stretching sleepy limbs. Annie was glad to busy herself while she thought through what Jon had said, his words filling her mind. Nathan had quietly disappeared, and Annie saw Cara glancing around the room for him. Jon was at the door, saying goodbye to everybody and making sure they knew about the summer break and when they would all return. Sam made her way to Annie and squeezed her hand.

  ‘Thank you, for everything. We’re going home, shall we drop you off?’

  Annie realised it was dark outside, and she was very tired. And she didn’t want Jon to think she was outstaying her welcome, such as it was, so she accepted with a nod, hurrying to grab her things.

  ‘Are you leaving?’

  She looked up at Jon as she collected the cool bag. ‘Yes. Charlie and Sam are going to give me a lift.’

  ‘Let me take you.’

  She blinked, wondering why he wanted to bother. ‘No, thank you.’ She realised she sounded curt and tried to explain. ‘They’re going now and it’s out of your way. Good night.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  All week Annie tried to forget that she had promised to help at the agricultural show on Saturday. She didn’t mind helping but felt certain she would bump into Jon at some point and the show was impossible to ignore as lorries staggered through the village, bearing trade stands, seating and sponsored marquees. On Thursday, when she’d hurriedly ventured to the post office for urgent supplies of dairy-free ice cream – she was expecting Kirstie for supper – she’d even seen a huge crane tottering along the high street. She’d tried not to laugh when Jerry Gordon had come tearing out of his house and shrieked angrily at the driver as a couple of his colourful hanging baskets were sent flying backwards, narrowly missing the vintage MG he’d just washed with loving care. She had seen Jon twice, once as he drove through the village and once with a group from Kilnbeck. Both times he had given her a polite wave and a quick, impersonal smile.

  Robert had asked her to arrive at the show at eight thirty, and thoughts of seeing Jon later were tumbling through her mind as she twisted her hair into a plait. The weather was fair, and she dressed in cropped ivory linen trousers, a pale pink sleeveless top and flat gypsy sandals. She locked the cottage and set off, unable to resist bending to sniff a cluster of perennial sweet peas in the front garden, deciding to pick some later for the house.

  Cars were already trickling through the village, directed to the Home Farm show entrance by officials sweltering in bright yellow jackets. Annie followed, briefly pausing to say hello to a couple of boys she recognised from the Hall on Tuesday evening, who had been drafted in to help with traffic duty and not looking too pleased about it. She ignored the Hall when she reached its gates and carried on until she was tripping up the roughly mown grass track towards the show in her unsuitable shoes. Strands of dried hay tickled her feet and scratched her ankles, and she began to regret her choice of footwear.

  She hadn’t been to the show for years but as she waved her volunteer’s badge at the entrance, she was amazed by how much it had expanded since her last visit. Robert met her as promised at the committee’s marquee and asked her to help on the WI cake stall as somebody had gone down overnight with a tummy bug. Annie hoped that the woman in question hadn’t been eating her own baking.

  ‘You’re bound to be busy, lass,’ he said cheerfully as she trailed beside him, already cross because she had been stung by a nettle and a blister was beginning to swell on her left heel. ‘But you’ve got a good view of t’main arena.’

  Robert introduced her to Elsie and Sheila, stalwarts of the local WI chapter, and who Annie guessed had a combined age of about a hundred and fifty. She tried to help them with the unpacking, but they shooed her away, telling her politely but firmly that they knew just how to do it properly. Her mouth watered as more and more amazing cakes and cookies were slowly revealed, and one by one volunteers and helpers sidled up to make their purchases before the stall opened properly.

  ‘Don’t put that out yet!’ Sheila barked at Annie. She blinked in surprise, clutching a heavy chocolate cake, and feeling as though she’d been about to steal it. ‘We’ve only got the two from Mavis, so we’d better save that one for later when there’s not much left. Here, I’ll take it.’

  Annie muttered something under her breath as she obediently handed the cake over. She hovered at the front of the stall, writing names on bags to be collected later and kept hidden from the sun underneath a table at the back. The
re was a short lull as the gates were opened to the public and she glanced around idly. Gigantic shire horses were already lined up in the main arena, stamping their feet and shaking their short tails to keep away the barrage of flies. The grandstand was filling up as people rushed to grab a seat, shuffling between rows of plastic to find a better view. Show jumps were stacked on one side of the ring and a couple of horses objected to the sight of them, dragging their handlers around until they were hauled back into line. The commentator was hidden inside a little hut nearby, and Annie listened as he explained the events to follow later. Another show ring had been tacked onto the main arena, full of cows and their calves slowly trailing around after one another. One little chestnut calf managed to escape and she laughed as it scattered a pile of straw bales.

  The children’s play area was well away from the arenas, dominated by a bouncy castle wobbling nervously as it waited for the inevitable onslaught to come. The food court was handily close by, already doing a roaring trade in bacon rolls and hog roast, and she pulled a face when the unmistakable smell of fried doughnuts drifted towards her. Wherever she looked, sponsored trade stands were groaning underneath cars, agricultural machinery, trailers, and specialist farming equipment. Nearby the greyhound rescue and donkey sanctuary were attracting lots of visitors and Christmas cards and next year’s calendars were already being stuffed briskly into carrier bags.

  Then the torrent began. Barely had the WI stall opened properly than people made a beeline for it, unable to resist the home baking on offer. Soon Annie wished she’d worn a different top as the sun scorched down onto her shoulders through the factor thirty lotion. She didn’t have to look at her feet to know that they were filthy and hot, and the flat sandals offered no support whatsoever to her already aching soles. Elsie handed her a cup of tea from time to time, and the two ladies talked non-stop, only pausing to add up with creaking fingers slowly writing everything down. Annie sighed as she wrapped another half dozen scones, hoping she wouldn’t be stuck here all day. She hadn’t seen anything of Jon, not sure if she were relieved or terribly disappointed.

  She half listened to the conversation around her as she handed the scones over to her customer. Elsie was complaining loudly about the mobile library being reduced to one visit per month, and Annie caught her customer’s eye as he paid. She noticed his brown eyes were exactly like milk chocolate beneath messy dark blonde hair. He was about her age, looking every inch a countryman in his checked shirt, dark yellow waistcoat and green cords splattered with something she didn’t really like the look of. He seemed in no hurry to leave, despite the queue behind him and he bought another cake, winking at Annie as he walked away. Surprised, she watched him go, hoping he hadn’t noticed her scarlet face and unruly curls escaping from her plait.

  It was almost lunchtime, and she longed to sit down with a cool drink, but Elsie and Sheila seemed to be able to whisk more and more baking from the depths of their stall, as if by magic, and Annie could see no respite. She bent down to pick up yet another box of brownies, grumbling quietly to herself and yearning to go home for a bath. But a familiar voice interrupted her muttering, and she straightened up hastily, dropping the box on top of a cream sponge. Embarrassed, she fished it out but not before she heard Sheila’s cluck of disapproval and mutter about the waste of a good cake. Annie thought crossly that it wouldn’t be wasted at all; she’d ram it in somebody’s face soon.

  She looked up. Jon was standing in front of her and she wondered grumpily how he always seemed to catch her at her worst. Dark navigator sunglasses covered his eyes and it was impossible to see the expression behind them.

  ‘How are you?’ he asked politely. Her reply came out more sharply than she’d intended, feeling stupidly crushed by the courteous and yet indifferent inquiry.

  ‘Fine, thanks. Busy.’ She tried not to dither as she wiped jam and cream from the tablecloth, torn between hoping he would leave her alone and afraid that he actually might.

  ‘I won’t keep you long. Dad and Emma are here, and I’d like to introduce you to them.’

  Startled, she shook her head and tried to tell him no, absolutely not now, not looking like this. But it was too late as he was already turning around, and she saw a couple making their way across to her. Her heart sank as she left the relative safety of the stall.

  ‘Emma, Dad, I’d like to introduce you to Annie Armstrong, Molly’s goddaughter,’ Jon said as his father drew near in his electric wheelchair. Annie hovered uncertainly before Sir Vivian smiled at her, just like Jon. She gulped as she took his hand and he shook hers very firmly. ‘Annie, this is my dad, Vivian, and my stepmother, Emma.’

  Annie met Vivian’s twinkling eyes, a darker blue than his son’s, smiling at him as he released her fingers from his strong grip. Vivian seemed to have recovered from the bout of ill health Jon had spoken of and his face was tanned dark brown. His powerful chest and shoulders appeared even broader than Jon’s and he wore a lightweight suit, the jacket slung around the handles of his chair.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Annie,’ he said unhesitatingly. His voice wasn’t as deep as his son’s, but the local accent was more pronounced, and he looked at her with interest. ‘It’s good to have you back in the village. You won’t remember me, I daresay, but Molly was a fine friend.’

  Annie nodded, thinking of what Jon had told her of his father’s friendship with Molly. ‘It’s lovely to meet you. I do remember Molly speaking of you. And thank you for the card you sent after Molly died.’ Annie turned to Emma and held out her hand. Emma’s expression was open and welcoming, and the natural sincerity in her eyes made Annie feel instantly comfortable as they briefly shook hands. Annie was horribly aware of her appearance, compared to Emma, who was impeccably dressed in a beautiful floral skirt and flattering cream blouse. Her flat shoes were certainly far better designed for agricultural shows than Annie’s gypsy sandals, her ash-blonde hair tucked behind her ears with sunglasses perched on top of her head.

  ‘I’m so glad to meet you at last,’ Emma said, smiling warmly. ‘I’m sorry we were away when you arrived. I hope you’ve settled in?’

  Annie was all too aware of Jon’s silent presence nearby, and she wondered anxiously what he had told his family about her. ‘Yes, almost, thank you. The cottage needs more work than I’d realised but it’s starting to feel like home. Have you had a good holiday?’

  Emma absently pushed a loose strand of hair away from her eyes. ‘Lovely, thank you. We’ve been on a cruise for the first time and Vivian’s enjoyed it far more than he’s prepared to admit. He’s usually so active, and I thought on a ship he might eventually run out of things to interest him. He’d have to sit back and relax for a change.’

  ‘Rubbish!’ Vivian retorted, waving to somebody passing by, and he winked at Annie. ‘I didn’t get to do half the things I wanted.’

  ‘Next time,’ Emma said brightly. Annie saw the surprised expression on Vivian’s face and heard Jon’s short laugh. ‘Don’t worry, I’m already looking. I think some winter sun would be good for you.’

  Annie’s irritability level suddenly shot up at the unwelcome appearance, to her at least, of Sarah Holland, who managed to greet everyone except Annie with a kiss. She seemed to make a particular fuss of Vivian, bending down to peck him on both cheeks and even playfully straightening his tie.

  Vivian looked a bit startled and he watched Jon curiously as Sarah turned to him, allowing her hands to linger on Jon’s shoulders for just a little longer than was necessary. She managed a brief nod at Annie, whose heart sank, unable to find fault with Sarah’s gorgeous summer dress and pretty suede handbag.

  ‘Darling,’ Sarah said to Jon, her hand somehow finding its way back to his arm. ‘Thank you so much for sending Arthur round again. I really don’t know what I would have done without him. You must let me thank you properly, perhaps over that lunch we spoke about? I simply must get rid of that wretched gardener if he ever turns up again.’

  Jon nodded, his face impassive.
‘You’re welcome.’ His gaze swung back to Annie, his eyes unwavering as he looked at her, and Sarah’s hand fell away.

  Annie felt disappointment welling up inside her when she realised that Jon had not singled her out by sending Arthur to her. She was absolutely determined that he shouldn’t see how this made her feel, and yet she knew the look she gave him was easy to read in its regret.

  ‘I should go.’ Emma gave Annie a warm smile as she adjusted her sunglasses and then glanced at Vivian, who nodded. ‘I promised to judge the Best-Behaved Pet competition and it will be starting any minute. There’ll be a riot if the ferrets escape again and go after the rabbits. I hope you’ll come to us for lunch soon, Annie. Goodbye Sarah.’

  Annie said, mainly to irritate Sarah, that she’d really like to, and Vivian grinned at her.

  ‘Don’t be a stranger,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Come and see us. We won’t bite. I’ll tell you some stories about Molly.’

  They said goodbye, and Annie made her way back to the business side of the stall. Sarah and Jon were still near enough for Annie to hear their conversation, feeling certain that Sarah had raised her voice on purpose. Annie supposed it was all that drama training, and she shoved an empty box back underneath the table, watching them surreptitiously.

  ‘I wanted to ask your advice about hens,’ Sarah said girlishly, smiling up at Jon and pressing on regardless. ‘I’ve heard that they’re very economical to keep and so useful for recycling kitchen waste. And all those yummy fresh eggs, for baking and breakfast. What do you think?’

  Annie saw Jon look at Sarah in surprise. ‘I don’t know anything about them,’ he said, starting to laugh. Sarah adjusted her hat, Annie thought grumpily to get a better view of him.

  ‘I can’t believe that.’ Sarah sounded playful, seemingly unperturbed by his indifferent answer. ‘You’re a farmer, surely all farmers know about keeping livestock?’