The Mill on Magnolia Lane: A gorgeous feel-good romantic comedy

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘There’s a lot to do, but I was expecting there to be.’

  ‘I’m at a loose end today. I could help. I’d probably be useless but I’m happy for you to take advantage of my services, for what they’re worth.’

  ‘I don’t know…’ Lizzie began. ‘I mean, it’s sweet of you and everything but I’m mostly just clearing out today and it’s heavy work.’

  Florentina frowned. ‘What is your famous saying…? I may have the body of a weak and feeble woman… but I can work as hard as anyone.’

  Lizzie grinned. ‘I’d feel very guilty working you like a pit pony.’

  Florentina clamped her hands on her hips and her frown deepened. ‘Lizzie… I helped my uncle build his new house when I was thirteen. I know how to do these things.’

  ‘Wow! Did you?’ Lizzie frowned.

  ‘Well, I passed him a hammer once – it was very heavy…’

  Lizzie giggled. ‘What about your clothes?’ she asked as she ran a meaningful gaze over Florentina’s outfit. She was wearing a beautiful midnight silk blouse tucked into indigo jeans that showed her hourglass figure to its best effect and some expensive-looking leather boots – probably Italian. She always liked to look her best, but then, being a buyer for a high street department-store chain, Lizzie supposed that sort of came with the territory. That, and her parents’ influence.

  Though Florentina was hardly a stick and was only ten years younger than Lizzie’s 57-year-old mum, she had a certain magnetism and spirit that was hard to ignore. It was easy to see how Lizzie’s dad had been completely beguiled by her. Mum could say what she liked about Florentina, but the fact was she was smart and warm-hearted with a wicked sense of humour. And despite the nagging sense that she was somehow betraying her mother, Lizzie did like her. Even at the start, when her father had left her mother, though Lizzie had made a point of trying to like Florentina for the sake of her dad, Lizzie and Florentina would still have got on well anyway. And Lizzie had guessed that her dad had been unsettled at home for a long time before Florentina came into his life, something he’d later admitted in a surprisingly frank moment. He’d told her that he hadn’t been in love with Gwendolyn for many years and that he’d stayed with her for the sakes of Lizzie, Gracie and James.

  By the time he’d met Florentina, supplying wine from his merchant’s store for a corporate bash she was organising for her boss, his children had all been old enough to cope without him. Florentina wouldn’t have been ‘the other woman’ for anyone, and he guessed that too, very quickly after meeting her. If he was going to have a last shot at happiness, it would have to be all or nothing. So he went with all, and although it broke Lizzie’s heart to see her mum go through the split, where was the rule that said her dad wasn’t allowed happiness? Someone was always going to suffer in this scenario; someone was always going to lose out. It wasn’t fair, but then not much in life was.

  ‘I’m all prepared, don’t you worry about that,’ Florentina said, striding around to the boot of her car and popping it open. ‘I went around the sales and got some favoloso work boots and a pair of very fetching overalls.’ She shook out an orange boiler suit and Lizzie let out a snort.

  ‘It looks like you’re off to prison!’

  ‘Well, they do say orange is the new black.’ Her stepmother grinned. ‘What do you say? You can tell me all the gossip as we work.’

  ‘OK,’ Lizzie said, trying to ignore the little voice of guilt that whispered there would be trouble if her mum found out about this. ‘I’d love some help.’

  ‘Bene!’ Florentina rested her hands on her hips and looked up at the house. ‘You know, I really do believe this place could be quite beautiful when you’ve finished.’ Her eyes misted and for a moment she was somewhere else, far from where she stood. But then she shook herself and sniffed hard.

  ‘Dad would have loved to see us here, working together on this,’ Lizzie said softly. ‘He would have loved to see you helping me.’

  ‘He would have loved seeing me break a nail,’ Florentina said briskly. She gave another almighty sniff and rallied. ‘OK, I will change my clothes and I will be ready to work.’

  * * *

  Working alongside Florentina proved to be a riot. There were moments of reflection, of course, and times where their thoughts turned to the man they had both loved, grief still raw and the presence of one another reminding them of what they’d lost. But Florentina had a sharp wit and an energy, a way of turning sadness into optimism and hope, and Lizzie was glad of the company even without the physical help. She knew she’d pay for it later with guilt when she spoke to her mum, and, sure enough, half an hour after the sun had begun to sink behind the hills and Florentina had kissed her goodbye, her phone rang.

  ‘How have you got on?’ her mum asked. ‘I’ve been thinking about you all day.’

  ‘Mum, you really don’t need to worry.’

  ‘I know, but I do. I wish you’d let me come over and help.’

  ‘It’s pretty back-breaking stuff; I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.’

  ‘I’m fifty-seven, not one hundred and seven! Anyway, when are your builders due to start?’

  ‘Next week. They dropped a lot of stuff off yesterday.’

  ‘Met any of your neighbours yet?’

  Lizzie blushed at the memory of her evening with Jude and the things she’d thought about doing with him, and was glad her mum wasn’t in the room with her.

  ‘I’ve met a guy who lives in the village with his brother,’ she said, keeping her voice carefully casual. It was no good – her mother had picked up the scent.

  ‘Is he nice?’

  ‘Seems it.’

  ‘Eligible?’

  ‘Mum!’

  ‘I’m just asking. Can’t I ask? I’m just curious.’

  ‘No, because asking will lead to asking some more.’

  ‘Just so long as he doesn’t turn out to be like Evan.’

  ‘Thanks for reminding me. I think I can spot another Evan if I meet one, and this one is definitely not another Evan.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure.’ Her mother’s voice had softened. ‘In that case it’s up to you who you invite to share your life, as long as I’m the first to hear about it.’

  ‘You will be; you know that. There’s nothing to report right now – I’ve only had one meal with him and his brother was there for that – and really I’ve got enough on my plate without worrying about it.’

  ‘Are you managing OK in the caravan?’

  ‘It’s small but as long as I don’t want to throw any lavish dinner parties it’s fine.’

  ‘You’re cooking? And eating enough?’

  ‘Now you sound like a mother.’

  ‘I am a mother. And if I don’t remind you to eat properly you won’t.’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong because all this physical work is making me constantly ravenous.’

  ‘Speaking of work, how are you managing that?’

  Lizzie wondered if this was the point where she could ask whether anyone was expecting the Spanish Inquisition, but she resisted the temptation. She had to count herself lucky that her mother cared enough to ask because neither of her siblings had bothered yet.

  ‘I don’t have too many demanding clients on the books right now so that’s lucky,’ she said. ‘I can sneak off and see to builders and stuff on site and get my articles written in the evening when they’ve all gone home.’

  ‘Good,’ Gwendolyn said. ‘Listen, there was a reason I was phoning. I’m making a big cottage pie tomorrow. I thought I might bring some over. You’ll be in?’

  ‘Well, I’d love to see you but it’s a bit far, isn’t it?’

  ‘Forty-five minutes or so… I’ve done it plenty of times before.’

  ‘It’s an hour in traffic, and an hour is a bit of a drive just for cottage pie,’ was Lizzie’s hesitant reply until her sluggish brain realised that the visit was probably about more than cottage pie. ‘I mean, I think I’ll be in. Perhaps you could
let me know before you start out so I’m sure to be here. Mum…’ she added, ‘is everything OK?’

  ‘You mean, am I lonely now you’re not just down the road? Of course I’ve always known that you’d all leave eventually, and I was blessed to have you nearby for as long as I did, even if James and Gracie are in London.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant. I know you expected me to move away but that doesn’t stop you from being lonely.’

  ‘Well, you’re not coming back and I expect I’ll get used to it in time. You have your new place and that’s important to you – don’t you get worrying about me.’

  ‘Only I was thinking… I wondered if … Oh, never mind. I just want you to be OK.’

  ‘I am. There’s no need for you to worry.’

  There was a brief silence, Lizzie trying to frame an argument that she didn’t really believe that was true. Perhaps her mum was right, though. Perhaps they all needed to get used to this new arrangement, because this was life and it was what people did. Other children moved away from their parents and it was all fine. But then Lizzie’s stomach growled and it was so loud that she wondered if her mum could hear it.

  ‘I’d better get something to eat,’ she said. ‘I haven’t had much time to shop today.’

  ‘You are looking after yourself, aren’t you?’

  ‘Of course I am!’ Lizzie laughed. ‘And I won’t die of starvation if there’s a massive cottage pie to get through tomorrow evening if you’re coming up.’

  ‘You can be sure of it,’ Lizzie’s mum replied. ‘Goodnight, sweetheart. See you tomorrow.’

  ‘Looking forward to it. Love you, Mum.’

  ‘Love you too.’

  The line went dead and Lizzie put the phone down. Then she picked it up again and scrolled through the contacts. At the entry for Jude she paused. Perhaps calling so soon after seeing him would come across as needy, even though she did want to see him, very much. Giving herself a little shake, she put the phone firmly on the table again and headed to the little kitchen area to drop some bread into a toaster.

  * * *

  The day had started with blue skies, stretching endlessly towards the Fens and the coast beyond. Lizzie had been woken by the sound of a bumblebee at her bedroom window. She’d lain awake, listening to it for a while until it apparently decided that the caravan wasn’t a giant flower and went on its way. She’d taken a little longer over breakfast today – toast with jam but no butter because she’d run out and, frankly, the shop was just too far to go to for one thing – and then she’d got dressed in her overalls, determined that just because it was the day of rest for everyone else, that wasn’t going to apply to her. But then had come the knock on the door, Charlie chattering like a locomotive engine beyond it, and even though Lizzie was faintly annoyed at the idea of her plans being disrupted, her stomach was also fizzing with anticipation at the thought of seeing Jude.

  ‘You know I’m supposed to be working on the house today?’ Lizzie asked now, arching a brow.

  Jude grinned, the sun burning down on them as they stood on her overgrown lawn. ‘You can’t work today. Who’s working today? On a beautiful day like this?’

  ‘Me. It’s alright for you – you already have somewhere to live with a roof and everything.’

  ‘Alright then, when we get back I’ll help you – how’s that?’

  ‘I’ll help too!’ Charlie put in. ‘I’m good at helping!’

  ‘I’m sure you are,’ Lizzie said. ‘It’s just that…’

  She’d promised herself she wouldn’t get distracted. The mill would never be fit to inhabit if she kept dropping everything at the first sign of something more fun. But fun had been in desperately short supply since her dad’s death and Charlie looked more hopeful for her answer now than Jude did, if that was possible. She had things to do, but she hated to disappoint Charlie.

  ‘An hour,’ she said finally. ‘And only because it’s Sunday and it’s supposed to be the day of rest anyway. Don’t come and do this on another day because I won’t be swayed.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Jude said, giving her a mock salute. ‘And anyway, I’m serious about helping, you know.’

  Lizzie blushed. ‘Thank you.’

  Jude clapped a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. ‘So, Charlie boy, we have a picnic to get ready.’ He looked at Lizzie and the way he smiled took her breath away. She hadn’t been ready for it, and if he was going to do that a lot he might have to start warning her for the sake of her health.

  ‘We’ll come back in a couple of hours to pick you up,’ he added. ‘Sound OK?’

  Lizzie nodded. ‘More than OK. I feel bad that I don’t have much to offer towards it, though. I don’t even have butter for sandwiches!’

  ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘Maybe I could get off my lazy bottom and drive to the shops?’

  Jude held his hand up. ‘Forget it, honestly. Once you’re settled in your swanky windmill pad you can make me dinner. How’s that sound?’

  ‘IOU one dinner. Sounds perfect.’

  * * *

  Lizzie was full and happy as she lay back on the blanket, losing herself in the gentle gurgling of a nearby stream and the hum of bees that balanced on the wildflowers carpeting the meadow. The sun was warm and kind, and she could have drifted into a pleasant doze had it not been for something tickling her nose. She opened her eyes to find Jude grinning down at her, a length of reedy grass between his thumb and forefinger as if he were about to perform some delicate surgery. He waved it around before reaching to tickle her again with it, but she intercepted and knocked it out of the way with a giggle.

  ‘Don’t you dare!’

  ‘OK, I won’t. Only if you let me do this instead, though,’ he said, bending to kiss her. The most delicious tingle rippled down her spine.

  But then she sat up, afraid that if she let him do it again she’d lose the self-control she was barely holding onto. She hardly knew Jude, and even though the attraction was strong, she had to remember that.

  ‘Where’s Charlie?’

  ‘He’s just over by the river watching for the heron.’

  ‘There’s a heron there? I’ve never seen one in real life before.’

  ‘I’m not sure if it’s still there but we saw it a few times in the early spring so I wondered if it was nesting close by. It’s white – really rare. Want to go and look for it?’

  Nodding, she brushed herself down as she got to her feet. ‘I’d love to!’

  Bird watching, Lizzie thought wryly as she followed Jude through the long grass to the river. How lame would Gracie have thought that? When they were kids Gracie was always the one bored by everything, the one who wanted to be off having adventures in the world while Lizzie was happy to sit crabbing or hunting for creatures in rock pools or feeding the birds in their garden. But then, Gracie wasn’t here, and neither was James, and maybe Lizzie could be as lame as she liked and not have to give a damn anymore. She couldn’t help but feel that being lame with Jude and Charlie was going to be a lot of fun.

  They’d just started out in the direction of the riverbank when Lizzie heard a distant voice – someone was shouting Jude’s name. She turned to see a couple picking their way through the tall grass, heading their way. The man was lugging a rucksack. Lizzie took a closer look and could see that he was in his mid to maybe late twenties, but that perhaps puberty had never really finished with him – his hair a floppy mess, a denim jacket covered in patches and badges and trainers that looked like they’d been distressed for fashion rather than by time. The girl was around the same age. Jude shouted back with a cheery wave.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I think we had the same idea as you,’ the girl said. ‘I’m not sure our picnic is quite as impressive, though.’ She angled her head at the rucksack, which the man opened to reveal a sorry-looking tangle of crisp bags, and then looked meaningfully at the tubs and packs still out on Jude’s blanket.

  ‘You can have some of ours if yo
u like,’ Jude said. ‘We’ve got plenty of leftovers.’

  ‘If they’re going begging then we’ll take them off your hands,’ the man said with a grin. He wasn’t bad-looking, but Lizzie suspected that he was the sort of man she’d find irritating pretty quickly – a pathological need to look cool and probably full of poorly informed but quite strident opinions on just about everything. He clearly knew Jude pretty well, though, so perhaps he wasn’t all bad…

  Jude shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced between Lizzie and the girl. For the first time, he appeared to feel awkward.

  ‘Harriet, Damon… this is Lizzie,’ Jude said. ‘Lizzie… Harrie and Damon are… my friends.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Lizzie replied, understanding suddenly flooding in.

  ‘Oh, so you’re the new girlfriend?’ Harriet laughed, and she threw a look of pure flirtation at Jude that made Lizzie stare. She didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, because Charlie’s voice came from behind them and he ran to fling himself at Harriet.

  ‘How are you, Chuckles?’ Harriet laughed as she ruffled his hair. ‘Missed me?’

  Charlie frowned. ‘I only saw you both yesterday!’

  Damon stepped forward and offered Charlie a fist bump, which had him grinning. And then it faded.

  ‘Where’s Artie?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘Oh, he’s having a little day out with his grandma and granddad,’ Harriet said.

  ‘Where’s he gone?’

  ‘The zoo.’

  ‘I love the zoo,’ Charlie said.

  ‘Don’t we all?’ Harriet replied.

  ‘Why didn’t you go then?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘Well, there wasn’t much room in the car and I thought I might as well come for a picnic with Damon instead.’

  ‘We’ve had a picnic,’ Charlie said. Harriet looked at the blanket.

  ‘I can see that. I bet you ate most of it as well.’

  ‘No I didn’t.’ Charlie looked deeply offended.