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

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘We would have loved that but things are just a little too hectic right now, and I couldn’t justify leaving the mill overnight,’ Lizzie said, thinking of her mother back on site and hoping she was OK. There hadn’t been any panicked phone calls, so that was something to be thankful for. As soon as she’d decided to take Gracie with her, she’d known there was no way she’d be able to stay longer than a day and leave her mum with the stress of making sure the building project was staying on track. Besides, Gracie’s pregnancy had changed everything. With her sister relying on her more and more, Lizzie couldn’t let the building schedule get too far behind, and a night away wouldn’t be any help in that regard. She could come back to spend more time with Janet when Magnolia Mill was fit to live in, and, until that time, she’d have to put her dreams of making her own flour on hold and stick to her current day job.

  ‘We’ve had a lovely day,’ Gracie said. ‘Your mill is very nice.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Janet said with a smile. ‘I happen to think so too.’

  Lizzie nodded agreement. Kestrel Mill was lovely, but she happened to think that her own mill on Magnolia Lane was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Now that she’d seen Kestrel Mill in action, she couldn’t wait for hers to be ready.

  SEVENTEEN

  It was early evening by the time Lizzie and Gracie got back from Kestrel Mill and nobody felt like cooking. Gwendolyn offered, but Lizzie was seized by an impulse to go out.

  ‘It’s been ages since we’ve eaten out together, just us Lovell girls, and we might not get many more opportunities in the coming years when our lives get even more hectic than they are now. I vote we go and get a great big meal at the Golden Lion.’

  ‘The what?’ Gwendolyn asked, shaking her head.

  ‘The pub in Piriwick. Didn’t Dad ever take you there?’

  ‘Your dad hadn’t lived in Piriwick for years when I met him and we only really came to visit when we had you kids – we were hardly going to take you to the pub.’

  ‘Oh,’ Lizzie replied. ‘Well, the man who sold me the caravan says it’s very good, so I think we ought to treat ourselves and try it out.’

  ‘What about the money?’ Gracie asked.

  ‘Just for tonight, I don’t want to worry about money. If we can’t have the occasional treat, we might as well go and sign ourselves up for a nunnery or something.’

  ‘I don’t think they’d take me.’ Gracie raised her eyebrows.

  ‘You’d definitely fall down on the vow of chastity,’ Lizzie said with a laugh. ‘So shall we go or what? I don’t know about you but if they have pie on the menu then I’m in.’

  ‘Do they have pie on the menu?’ Gwendolyn asked as she reached for her coat from the peg.

  ‘I have no idea,’ Lizzie said cheerfully. ‘But it’s a pub so I would imagine they’ve got something of the sort.’

  She opened the front door and they filed down the steps.

  ‘Which car shall we take?’ Gwendolyn asked.

  ‘We could walk,’ Lizzie said. ‘That way everyone can have a drink.’

  Gracie cleared her throat.

  ‘OK,’ Lizzie corrected, ‘we can’t all have a drink.’

  ‘If I can’t then I might as well drive,’ Gracie said. ‘Come on…’

  Everyone followed her to squash into her little sports car. Lizzie reflected that Gracie would probably have to swap it when the baby arrived, and she wasn’t sure what would be more of a wrench – giving up her freedom or her precious car.

  * * *

  The Golden Lion had to be the smallest pub Lizzie had ever been in. There was barely room for the five tables set out for meals – three of which were already occupied when Lizzie, Gracie and Gwendolyn walked in – but the village of Piriwick was so small, and it already had another pub too, so it probably didn’t need anything much bigger. There was a tiny snug off the dining room and a narrow strip of floor that served as the bar area, already packed with locals. The close proximity of the scrubbed wooden tables and the compact nature of the place, with its low ceilings and charmingly uneven wattle and daub walls, gave it a homely feel. Lizzie wondered how it had taken her so long to visit, and she made a mental note to stop by lot more often.

  ‘It’s lovely in here.’ Gwendolyn took off her coat and hung it over the back of her chair before sitting down. ‘You don’t get pubs like this these days.’

  ‘That’s just what I was thinking,’ Lizzie said. ‘It was a good recommendation from Derek and Caroline.’

  ‘Who?’ Gracie asked as she sat across from her mum.

  ‘The man who saved both our bacon by selling his caravan at an honest price,’ Lizzie said.

  ‘Oh,’ Gracie said with a smile. ‘Hurray for Derek then. I’d buy him a drink if he were here.’

  Lizzie picked up a menu. ‘Oooh, lamb and leek pie. That sounds good.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t eat lamb,’ Gracie said. ‘The poor things.’

  ‘Well, I’m going to,’ Lizzie replied. ‘I’ll let you have enough conscience for both of us when you choose your meal.’

  ‘Chicken casserole… with shallots, mushrooms and red wine and served with mashed potatoes,’ Gwendolyn read. ‘That sounds nice.’

  ‘That sounds yummy,’ Gracie agreed. ‘I’m going to have that.’

  Lizzie looked at them both. ‘Happy for me to go to the bar and order then?’

  Gracie and her mum both nodded and Lizzie got up.

  The barmaid, a petite lady, perhaps in her late sixties, was chatting to a customer. She appeared delicate and slender, but Lizzie noticed the knotty muscles of her exposed forearms and wondered if she might be a lot stronger than she looked. Perhaps she was no stranger to hauling the odd barrel around the place. She cut her conversation short and smiled at Lizzie as she approached.

  ‘What can I get for you, my love?’

  ‘Can we order some food?’

  ‘Of course. So what are you having?’

  ‘Two chicken casseroles and one lamb pie.’

  ‘Oh, you’ll like the pie,’ the man who’d been chatting to the barmaid said. ‘Beautiful bit of pie. Local lamb – it was skipping over the fields an hour ago. Isn’t that right, Irma?’

  The barmaid nodded. ‘We sell out most nights so you’re lucky it’s still on.’

  Lizzie smiled and decided that she’d better not tell Gracie about the skipping over the fields business.

  ‘I won’t be a tick with this.’ Irma jotted the order down on a slip of paper and took it round to the kitchen. The man at the bar looked at Lizzie as she waited for her to come back.

  ‘On holiday are you?’

  ‘No, I live here.’

  His eyebrows shot up his forehead. ‘In Piriwick?’ he asked with obvious disbelief. ‘Since when?’

  ‘Well, not quite in Piriwick itself.’

  At this he gave a knowing smile. ‘Ah… that explains it. I know everyone in these parts, and if someone new had moved into the village I’d soon find out about it. So where are you? On that new estate?’

  ‘Mad Lady Mill,’ Lizzie said, deciding that it might be easier to use its local moniker rather than try to explain the imminent name change to Magnolia Mill.

  His eyes widened to such a size there was a danger they might take over his face. He swept a hand across a long strip of hair that was valiantly clinging to an otherwise bald head. ‘Well, I’ll… you’re the woman I’ve heard about!’ He swung round at the return of Irma from the kitchen. ‘This here’s the woman who bought the mill!’

  ‘About time someone did something with that place,’ Irma said mildly. ‘Do you want to order any drinks, my love?’

  As Lizzie gave the order for two beers and a lemonade, the door to the pub opened.

  ‘Here, Derek!’ the man at the bar shouted. ‘This is her!’

  ‘I know it is,’ came the reply. ‘I already told you I sold my caravan to her.’

  Lizzie turned to see Derek and his wife Caroline smiling at her.

  �
�I knew we’d persuade you to try the Lion out,’ he said.

  ‘How are you both?’ Lizzie asked.

  ‘Can’t complain. Just come for our tea,’ Caroline said. ‘How’s it going at the mill?’

  Lizzie grinned. ‘I can’t complain either.’

  ‘On your own?’

  ‘No, I’m with my mum and sister. They’re at the table by the window.’ Lizzie pointed and Gwendolyn looked up and smiled. ‘Come and say hello.’

  ‘We’ll do that,’ Derek said. ‘Are you eating?’

  ‘Yes, we’ve just ordered. Don’t let that stop you, though.’

  ‘We’ll let you finish your meal and we’ll come over.’ Derek turned to Irma as Lizzie grabbed her drinks to take back to her table, and Lizzie heard him request the lamb pie, only to be disappointed.

  ‘Last one’s just gone, Derek,’ Irma said.

  Lizzie felt a little pang of guilt about depriving Derek of what might be his favourite pie, but she was so hungry and the pub smelt so good that it wasn’t big enough to trouble her.

  * * *

  Lizzie pushed away an empty plate with a satisfied sigh. ‘That definitely lived up to the hype. It was fantastic.’

  ‘Mine was nice too,’ Gwendolyn said. Then she looked up at someone approaching the table and smiled. Lizzie turned to see Derek and Caroline carrying a glass each.

  ‘Hello,’ Caroline said. ‘We did say to Lizzie we’d pop over and introduce ourselves.’

  ‘Mum, Gracie – this is Derek and Caroline. I told you about them.’

  ‘Oh, you did,’ Gwendolyn said. She shuffled along the long seat beneath the window to make room. ‘You’re welcome to sit with us.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Derek and Caroline sat next to Gwendolyn.

  ‘How was your meal?’ Derek asked.

  ‘Fabulous,’ Gracie said. ‘Makes me wish I’d moved here years ago.’

  ‘It’s very good food here,’ Derek said. ‘Didn’t I tell you so, Lizzie?’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘So how are you settling in?’ he asked. He looked at Gracie. ‘And you’ve moved in too now?’

  ‘I’m staying with Lizzie in the caravan for a while,’ she said.

  ‘I hope it’s not too much of a squeeze,’ Caroline said. ‘It’s not the biggest caravan in the world. We loved it and we only sold it because we needed a bigger one to take the grandkids away.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not at all,’ Gracie replied with a bright smile. ‘It’s lovely and cosy.’

  ‘Everyone I speak to is excited about seeing the mill all fixed up,' Caroline added.

  ‘I’m glad about that. My dad was born here, you know. I think he’d be happy to see us back here.’

  Derek was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Would I have known him?’

  ‘I don’t know. Alexander Lovell? He moved away as a young man and that would have been at least forty years ago.’

  Derek shook his head. ‘No, I don’t know the name. But then, we only came to these parts about ten years ago.’

  Caroline smiled at Lizzie. ‘Tim Lundy says you’re going all out to get the mill working again.’

  ‘You’ve seen Tim?’ Lizzie asked.

  ‘Well,’ Caroline said, ‘I saw Cath, his wife. At the farm shop.’

  Lizzie had never imagined Tim being married. She wasn’t really sure why, now that she thought about it, only that she couldn’t imagine what sort of woman would want to make a life with her surly builder.

  ‘And she says you’re having a little fling with Jude Travers too?’

  Lizzie felt the smile freeze on her face. She wasn’t sure she wanted the whole village talking about her and Jude.

  ‘We’re dating,’ she said carefully, the smile still stuck to her face, though it was no longer quite so assured. ‘It’s nothing serious.’

  ‘I think it’s lovely,’ Caroline said. She turned to Gwendolyn now. ‘He’s had such a terrible time of it the last few years. First losing his mum and then his dad, and then him being the main carer for his brother, and when Harriet Astley ended things with him there were a lot round here who were very concerned for his health.’ Caroline took a swift drink from her pint glass. ‘He wasn’t himself for a long time. I think if it hadn’t been for their little boy he might even… well, of course, he wouldn’t have wanted to leave his brother either, but he certainly seemed low enough to do something silly to me. It’s about time he found a bit of happiness, and I think you make a lovely couple.’ She grinned. ‘Even if I have to admit to being a tad jealous. He’s an absolute catch.’

  ‘Oi!’ Derek cried, but this only made Caroline laugh out loud.

  ‘Harriet broke it off?’ Gracie asked, only knowing as much Lizzie had confided in her (which was all Lizzie really knew).

  ‘Oh yes.’ Caroline gave a vigorous nod. ‘Nobody knows why.’

  ‘I expect there was nothing more to it than they’d got together too young,’ Derek said, giving his wife a surreptitious warning glance. ‘They’d been courting since they were both at school, and folks can change a lot when they become adults. I expect having a baby changed them too.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Caroline said, choosing to ignore, or perhaps just not noticing, Derek’s subtle warning. ‘I heard Jude wanted to get married before the baby came. It was Harriet who didn’t.’

  Derek looked askance at his wife. ‘Who on earth told you that?’

  ‘Julia. I mean, if anyone would know, Harriet’s mum would, wouldn’t she?’

  ‘You know Harriet’s family?’ Lizzie asked.

  ‘I sometimes chat to Julia at choir practise,’ Caroline said. ‘She has a lovely alto.’

  ‘Well...’ Derek sniffed. ‘I don’t expect Lizzie and her family need to hear about all that now, do they?’

  Derek was right. Lizzie didn’t want to hear it. And yet she did, and the need to know tore her up. She wished she could go back to her cosy fantasy that Jude wasn’t damaged goods, but it was becoming clear that wasn’t the case. She glanced at Gracie, who gave her a little look of triumph and her heart sank. Gracie knew the truth too – she’d known all along. Jude wasn’t over Harriet at all. So where did that leave Lizzie?

  ‘No, you’re right,’ Caroline said, leaving Lizzie – at least for now – to marvel at the sudden tact where it had been woefully missing before. ‘I suppose that’s all water under the bridge now, and he’s got you to take care of him now, hasn’t he, Lizzie?’

  Lizzie nodded and she tried to smile. Yay, she thought. Lucky me.

  * * *

  Gracie had taken Gwendolyn home after their meal at the Golden Lion, leaving Lizzie alone with her thoughts in the caravan. She was reading too much into it, she kept telling herself. Just because Jude had been devastated when Harriet broke things off, it didn’t mean he wasn’t over her now. People split up all the time and they managed to fall in love again. Perhaps, however, it might be easier to believe if Jude and Harriet weren’t quite so close still. Friends, yes, but close friends, even when you considered they had Artie. And this was the bit that kept sticking, that kept pulling at the corners of Lizzie’s carefully constructed logic, threatening to unravel the whole lot. There was so much history there, how could Lizzie ever hope to compete? And what about Damon? Was this bothering him as much as it did Lizzie? He’d talked about baggage at Jude’s drinks party and he’d seemed as unimpressed at times as Lizzie with the situation, but did he really feel that way? She didn’t really think she’d find much of an ally there when it came down to it.

  The sound of Gracie’s car pulling into the driveway disturbed her thoughts. While Lizzie was glad to have some distraction, there was also a tempered sense of dread. She had a feeling she knew what the conversation that was undoubtedly coming might look like, and she didn’t think it was going to make her feel any better. They hadn’t really had time to discuss what they’d heard from Caroline and Derek in the pub, but Lizzie guessed they’d be finding the time now.

  She went into the kitchen area and poured some milk
into a saucepan, setting it on the stove. Gracie came in and flopped onto the sofa.

  ‘I’m exhausted.’

  ‘You want to go straight to bed? I was going to make cocoa, but if you’d rather leave it…’

  Gracie waved a vague hand. ‘Cocoa would be lovely; it would settle me down.’ She gave Lizzie a sideways glance. ‘I imagine you might want a bit of settling down too?’

  ‘Why do you imagine that?’ Lizzie asked, knowing full well what Gracie meant.

  ‘You can’t be happy about what Caroline told us.’

  ‘Caroline told us a lot. Which bit?’

  Gracie sighed and kicked her shoes off. They tumbled across the floor. Lizzie fought the urge to pick them up and throw them at her messy sister. ‘The thing about Jude being absolutely devastated when Harriet dumped him.’

  ‘You heard Caroline; she did tell us that, but she also said it’s all water under the bridge now.’ Lizzie reached for two mugs from a cupboard and spooned cocoa powder into them.

  ‘But you’re worried he doesn’t really love you as much as he loved her?’

  Lizzie stared into the blackness of the garden beyond the little kitchen window. She could just make out the shadows of the old pear trees, their branches snapping and creaking in the wind.

  ‘I think he loves me,’ she said quietly.

  ‘But you don’t think his heart is completely cleansed of feelings for Harriet, do you?’ Gracie asked. ‘If you’re being very honest with yourself.’

  ‘In time that will change. I can help him.’

  ‘You could help him, but can you trust him? What about this other boyfriend? Is Harriet happy with him? Do you think it will last? Do you think that if Harriet gave the word to take Jude back he’d still want you? That’s really the question you’ve got to ask yourself. Do you want to be a back-up plan, because if you doubt it for a minute, then that’s what you are.’

  Lizzie shook her head. The milk she was heating began to froth and roll, racing for the lip of the pan, and she pulled it clear of the stove just in time.