‘She’s just worried about you. We’re both worried,’ Lizzie said. It was true, and she was hardly happier about leaving Gwendolyn in charge at Magnolia Lane than she had been when she’d first arranged to visit Kestrel Mill, but she realised that the talk she needed to have with Gracie was bigger than that. Gwendolyn had entrusted the task to Lizzie, believing that Gracie would be more likely to talk frankly with Lizzie than with her, and Lizzie had to agree.
‘I don’t want to tell Frank.’ Gracie turned her gaze to the window. They passed a field of dazzling yellow rapeseed. ‘How far is this place we’re going to?’
‘It’s called Kestrel Mill,’ Lizzie replied, realising that Gracie had clammed up on the subject of her pregnancy for now and it was pointless to pursue it. ‘We’ve got at least another hour yet. Will you be OK?’
‘I expect so.’
‘I mean… you’re not feeling too sick now?’
‘It goes off around mid-morning. Sometimes I get a little light-headed, but if I’m careful I can manage it.’
‘Like when you were out with Charlie?’
‘Just like that. Charlie was such a sweetheart, you know. He’s really lovely.’
‘He is.’
‘I’m surprised you didn’t bring him and Jude to look at this windmill place. After all, Charlie would have loved it.’
Lizzie’s expression darkened. She had asked Jude, but he’d told her that he’d already arranged to meet Harriet so they could take Artie shopping for new shoes. She wasn’t about to tell Gracie that, though, just like she hadn’t told her about the flirting at Jude’s drinks party. It would only reopen a debate that she didn’t particularly want to have again, and there was really enough to think about without it.
‘Well, yes, but… it’s sort of work, isn’t it? And I wanted to be able to concentrate and take everything in.’
‘Work how? It’s just another windmill that someone lives in, like you want to do with yours.’
‘Actually…’ Lizzie took a breath. Gracie wouldn’t like it but while they were coming clean with each other about things (at least, some things), now was probably a time as good as any to mention the plans she’d discussed with Florentina. Her sister would find out sooner or later anyway. Lizzie knew she’d be angry, but now that her pregnancy was out in the open, Lizzie had the perfect argument for why Gracie herself wasn’t the person to go into business with her – after all, Gracie had enough on her plate just dealing with her impending motherhood, and it was likely she wouldn’t even want to think about starting a new business anyway. ‘Kestrel Mill is a working mill. They produce flour. That’s why I want to see it.’
‘Do they? I bet that’s noisy.’
Lizzie laughed. ‘That’s not the response I was expecting.’
‘What’s that got to do with us? Are you saying you want to make flour?’
‘Yes. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.’
‘What will you do with it?’
‘Sell some and keep some back to make my own bread.’
‘Bread?’
‘To sell to shops, and maybe in our own on-site shop.’
‘That sounds like a lot of work.’
‘It will be. A lot of money to start up too.’
‘Do you need some more, because—’
‘God, no, Gracie! You need to keep your money – especially now because you’re going to need it for your baby. I’ve got a business partner… at least, interest from a potential business partner. She might put the money in.’
‘Mum?’
‘Not Mum.’
‘Then who?’
Lizzie cleared her throat. ‘Florentina said she’d like to.’
Gracie folded her arms, her gaze going to the windows again. ‘I bet she would, so she can worm her way into our lives a little more permanently. I suppose she’s feeling all at sea now she doesn’t have Dad to make excuses for her.’
‘I knew you’d react like that.’
‘It’s your business.’ Gracie sniffed. ‘Do what you like with it.’
‘That’s what I am doing.’
‘Just don’t come crying to me when it all goes wrong.’
‘Now you sound like Mum. And how is it going to go wrong? It’s Florentina, putting a little money into a tiny business. We’re hardly going to trouble Alan Sugar.’
‘Florentina might not like you quite so much if you lose her money for her. And you might not like her quite so much when she tries to tell you how to run your mill because she thinks a little investment gives her a valid stake in it.’
‘Well, a little investment would give her a valid stake in it,’ Lizzie said firmly, though doubts, unbidden, began to creep in. Gracie could be unreasonable where Florentina was concerned, but what if she was right? What if this partnership did drive a wedge between them? Was it worth the risk?
Gracie pouted. ‘That’s fine then. As long as you’re happy and you know what’s what.’
‘So you’re not angry that I didn’t ask you instead? I thought about it but…’
‘I know, I’m going to have my hands full. I realise that’s the reason. Besides, all my money will go on your caravan when I eventually buy it.’
‘About that too… I understand if you don’t want to buy it now. You probably need the money for the baby and—’
‘That’s true, but I also need somewhere to bring up the baby and where better than a place as idyllic as Magnolia Lane? It makes perfect sense to buy the caravan so you can get your building work finished.’
There it was again – the assumption that Gracie was now a permanent feature at Magnolia Mill. Her sister had clearly decided that the caravan would be allowed to stay on the land forever and Lizzie wasn’t sure how practical or desirable that would be. But the funny thing was, Lizzie was sort of getting used to the idea of Gracie being at Magnolia Mill herself, despite her misgivings and, to her great surprise, was finding that she didn’t actually hate it as much as she’d always imagined she would.
‘It might come to nothing, you know – this business plan, I mean. This might all be pie in the sky. I suppose I’ll have a better idea when I’ve learned a bit more about Kestrel Mill.’
‘I expect so,’ Gracie said sagely. ‘So in that case, why haven’t you brought Florentina with you today?’
‘I had thought about asking her, but I wanted you to come. I thought it might be nice for us to take a trip together – like old times. That’s OK, isn’t it?’
The darkness in Gracie’s expression cleared, like the sun banishing the storm clouds, and she turned to Lizzie with a broad smile now. ‘Is that really what you thought?’
‘I wouldn’t have said it otherwise, would I?’
‘That’s actually quite lovely.’
‘I’m not a total bitch, you know.’
‘Of course you’re not – I’ve never said that.’
‘I think you might have done a few times over the years.’
‘Well… there was that one time when you sabotaged my date with Martin Prosser because you thought he was only after one thing—’
‘Which he was,’ Lizzie cut in.
‘… and the time you took my Clarins lipstick without asking and broke the top off… and the time you grassed me up for taking the chocolates off the Christmas tree—’
‘Because you ate them all in one go and threw up in my bedroom!’
‘… and the fact that your boobs have always been bigger than mine… and—’
Lizzie laughed. ‘OK. So neither of us have been angelic over the years.’
Gracie turned to her with a wicked grin. ‘If I haven’t then you must have deserved it.’
‘Probably. You know, none of us had planned to complicate life at Magnolia Mill with a baby, but can I confess to being a little bit excited now that I’m used to the idea?’
‘At least one of us is,’ Gracie said, her grin fading.
‘Give it time and I think you will be. Look at how Charlie has taken to you. I
think you’ll be a brilliant mum.’
‘We don’t have that much time. Spring will be here before we know it and so will the baby.’
‘That doesn’t change that when the time comes I think you’ll step up to the plate just fine.’
‘Honestly?’
Lizzie nodded. ‘Cross my heart.’
‘I think you’ll be a brilliant aunt.’
‘I already know that,’ Lizzie said with a chuckle. ‘But you can’t go wrong being an auntie, can you? When things are a bit sticky, you just hand the baby back and let Mum deal with it.’
‘Oh great, so glad I’m going to get such super support from you.’
‘Seriously, you’ll be fine. More than fine.’
‘It’s easy for you to say.’
‘Well, it is, but I’m not the one who went and got pregnant.’
‘You surely don’t think I did this deliberately?’ Gracie squeaked.
‘No, of course not, I was just agreeing with you. It is easy for me to say, but I can’t change the fact that you’re the pregnant one and I’m not.’
Gracie’s voice dropped and there was an unexpected note of defeat in it. ‘Do you all think I’m very silly to want to keep the baby?’
‘Why would we think that? I’d be surprised to hear you wanted to do anything else. I think we’re more concerned that you don’t want to tell Frank.’
‘But you understand why? It’s hard enough getting over him, and I have to pretend to be tough about it because if I don’t I might just fall apart. I loved Frank, you know.’
‘I know you did,’ Lizzie said gently.
‘I really thought we’d be together forever. Now I feel stupid, and I feel like everyone else could see what sort of man he really was and I was just a blind fool who let him walk all over me.’
‘Nobody would ever call you that. Don’t forget, you’re not the only one to have been taken in by a man.’
‘Do you still miss Evan?’
‘At first I did. And I can’t bring myself to hate him even though I should.’
‘Then you’ll know exactly how I feel about Frank, won’t you? I have to keep him out of my life, away from my thoughts, and I can’t allow myself to think of him fondly at all. It’s the only way we survive, isn’t it?’
‘You know you’re allowed to admit when you’re scared. Nobody – especially not me – will judge you.’
‘Scared? Of having the baby?’
‘That. And other things too.’
Gracie gave a half-laugh. ‘I suppose my situation isn’t looking too rosy right about now, is it? No home, no job, no boyfriend, and pregnant to boot.’
‘But you’ve got us. You know you’ll always have your family.’
‘I have, and I’m grateful for that.’ Gracie was quiet for a moment, and then she spoke again. ‘Lizzie…’
‘Yes?’
‘This business… I mean. I guess if Florentina is willing to help your dreams come true, I can hardly hold that against her, can I?’
Lizzie threw her a grateful smile. ‘Thank you for understanding.’ Her eyes turned to the road again and her forehead creased into a vague frown. ‘Bloody hell – that’s what you get for yakking.’
‘What?’
‘We’ve only gone and missed our turning.’
* * *
As they pulled up in the car park of Kestrel Mill and got out of the car, Lizzie stared up, mesmerised by the sight of the sails turning. She watched for a moment, unable to tear her gaze away, and the mix of emotions she felt at the sight of it was quite overwhelming. One day, this might be her windmill, the old sails creaking and groaning as the gentle wind drove them round, just like they would have done in the days when it was a proper working building. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anything as beautiful.
‘They’re not going very fast,’ Gracie said, seemingly rather less affected by the sight than her sister.
Lizzie turned to her. ‘They’re hardly going to be spinning off into the sky, are they?’
‘I just expected it to be a bit more… energetic. You can’t imagine them doing anything of use. They just sort of whiz lazily around, don’t they?’
Lizzie shook her head with a slight smile. ‘Whiz lazily around? Come on, let’s go and find Janet.’
* * *
Janet was behind the counter of the café in the annexe. Lizzie recognised her immediately from a photo on the mill’s website. A couple of families with young children were sitting at tables eating sandwiches and cakes, while a group of half a dozen retirees occupied a long table and bench by the wall with pots of tea and scones.
‘Hello, ladies, what can I get for you?’ Janet asked brightly as Lizzie and Gracie approached the counter.
‘Lizzie Lovell…’ Lizzie said, offering her hand. ‘This is my sister, Gracie. I’m sorry we’re a bit late—’
‘Oh, not at all!’ Janet cried, grabbing Lizzie’s hand and then Gracie’s in an enthusiastic shake. ‘Not at all! I’ll just get Tabitha to come and look after the café…’
Lizzie and Gracie watched her dash off. Moments later, she returned, followed by a teenaged girl – perhaps around sixteen or seventeen.
‘This is my oldest,’ she said, giving the girl a proud and fond look. ‘Slap bang in the middle of A level revision, but you’ll be alright to man the till for an hour or so here, won’t you, Tab?’
The girl smiled and nodded dutifully. She was blonde, lashes so fair they were almost transparent, flawless skin untroubled by make-up and a willowy figure hidden by baggy dungarees. She was not what anyone would call conventionally beautiful, but there was something quite entrancing about her.
Janet was blonde too, but it was a darker, richer colour, pinned up messily on top of her head, and her brows were darker still. She looked as if she was no stranger to a day out in the sun.
‘Can I get you a drink before we start the tour?’ she asked.
‘I won’t just yet,’ Lizzie said. She turned to Gracie.
‘Perhaps a glass of water?’
‘Help yourself to a bottle from the fridge over there,’ Janet said cheerily.
Gracie reached into her bag and pulled out her purse.
‘No, no,’ Janet said. ‘Don’t worry about that.’
‘But…’
‘I insist.’
Gracie hesitated, before thanking her and going to the fridge while Janet turned to Lizzie.
‘I expect you want to see the mill in action before anything else?’
‘Oh, I’d love to! We just saw it from the outside and it’s absolutely beautiful.’
‘It’s been a labour of love. I have photos from when we first got hold of it; remind me to show them to you later. You’ll be amazed when you see what a mess it was.’
‘Trust me, I might not be as amazed as you think.’
Janet laughed. ‘I suppose not with your mad lady place. How’s it going?’
‘As well as can be expected. I’m not sure I’m going to be finished anywhere near the deadline I’d set but it can’t be helped, I suppose.’
‘It does tend to be the way of things.’
Gracie joined them again, twisting the cap from a bottle of spring water before taking a sip.
‘Are you OK?’ Lizzie asked.
‘Perfectly,’ Gracie replied.
Janet looked from one to the other.
‘I’m pregnant,’ Gracie said in answer to the silent question. ‘Only a few weeks along, though.’
‘Oh, congratulations!’ Janet said. ‘How lovely! I do miss being pregnant. I’d have popped at least twenty out if my husband had agreed to it!’
‘I think just the one will do me,’ Gracie said.
‘That’s definitely a more sensible approach,’ Janet said. ‘Not nearly so expensive. Will you be alright on the stairs? They’re a bit steep.’
‘I’ll be fine.’
She clapped her hands together. ‘OK then. If you’re both happy to begin, then follow me.’
&nbs
p; * * *
It looked more complex than she’d imagined, but Lizzie was just as enchanted by the inner workings as she had been at the sight of the four great sails outside. A collection of mammoth gears dropped down from the main tower, connected to an iron spindle running into the great millstone. The gears clanked and groaned as they turned, but with the machinery of this mill far more complete than what she had left at Magnolia Mill, it was surprising to see pistons pumping briskly as well. It looked more like an old steam engine than the sedate turning of the sails outside had suggested, and Lizzie could see now that if hers worked in the same way, she might be able to produce her flour on a more industrial scale than she’d imagined.
Janet nodded briefly to an old man who was tipping a bag of grain into what she called ‘the hopper’, a chute that fed it to the millstones to be ground, shouting to introduce Lizzie over the noise before moving on. Honeyed wooden stairs led to another level where more of the mill’s workings were housed, and everywhere the obligatory yellow safety signs sat as incongruous reminders of the modern world.
Gracie looked only mildly interested, but at least she had the courtesy to nod politely every time Janet told her a fact that she clearly didn’t want to know. Lizzie appreciated that she’d really only come for the run-out and for a little moral support, so she didn’t mind too much that her sister wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as she was. But it did make her feel like a massive geek, and Gracie would no doubt tell her she was exactly that as they drove home. Lizzie didn’t care if loving this made her a geek or not; she was only excited for the possibilities and hopeful that one day she might see the great cogs and gears of her own mill turning like this too.
‘What do you think?’ Janet asked as they settled in the café again with cups of tea and sandwiches made from Kestrel Mill’s own bread.
‘Incredible,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’m so grateful you could spare the time to show us around.’
‘You’re welcome to come back any time if there’s anything else you need to see. And the offer of baking lessons still stands, as well as the offer of the guest accommodation.’
The Mill on Magnolia Lane: A gorgeous feel-good romantic comedy Page 18