Meet Me at Wisteria Cottage

by Teresa F. Morgan

  Valerie laughed. ‘Of course not. I did say I’d keep an eye on you, though, like I always do. That seemed to appease your mother.’ Valerie smiled, giving Maddy a hug.

  ‘Thanks, Val.’

  ‘Well, I never liked Connor. Shame nothing ever happened between you and one of my three boys. Then you really would have been my daughter.’

  Nothing had happened with any of Valerie’s sons – maybe the distance between Bristol and Cornwall had done it, as Valerie and her husband had moved when Maddy was only eight. But, clearly, growing up, they’d seen Maddy as a sister, and she had seen them as three brothers, or cousins. Two older and one younger than her. James was the same age as Edward, thirty-one now, George was a year older than Maddy and Jacob a year younger. Jacob had been Valerie’s last hope of having a girl.

  ‘Although, how’s it going with Harry? You’ve gone quiet on me about him.’

  ‘Yeah … it’s all right,’ Maddy said, hesitantly, which Valerie instantly picked up on.

  ‘Oh, you don’t sound so enthusiastic.’

  Did she confess? Admittedly, Valerie might be able to put some perspective on it. ‘I feel like he’s hiding something. Without going into details, this morning, something happened, and when I asked if he wanted to talk about it, he said he would when he’s ready. What could be so bad?’

  Valerie frowned. ‘Men often aren’t as open as us women, and you haven’t known each other long.’

  ‘Don’t remind me. I’m fully aware of how fast this relationship has spiralled.’ Was it spiralling out of control, though? ‘I thought moving into the cottage would have slowed it down, but it hasn’t.’

  ‘Maybe give him time, but if it continues to bother you, then raise it again.’

  ‘Yes, I will.’

  ‘Good, because a relationship will never work if you hide things from one another.’

  Chapter 24

  Maddy didn’t get to raise anything with Harry. The next few weeks passed in a blur. From an appointment with the kitchen designer to them commencing work sooner than expected because they’d had a cancellation, she was either at the gallery, or overseeing the work done at her house, or sleeping at Wisteria Cottage – trying to keep her distance from Harry and slow down whatever their relationship was. She was busy choosing handles for the kitchen cabinets, looking at new fridge freezers and ovens, and selecting carpet and paint samples for the dining room and the hall, stairs and landing. Harry was busy with his gardens, including that of Wisteria Cottage. This time of year the grass grew quickly, and plants needed a lot of watering. She and Harry were like ships passing in the night, or to be more precise in the morning, as at the same time she left Wisteria Cottage, he arrived to start work. The garden was taking shape slowly. They saw each other some evenings. Some were quiet, cosy affairs, a glass of wine cuddled up in front of the television, and other times he had her pinned to the kitchen counter, hitching up her dress, gripping her, fingers digging into her buttocks, claiming her mouth with his, seducing her. The incident in the bedroom seemed long forgotten.

  Maddy had never had sex like it. It drove her crazy – in a good way. Harry could be rough but sensual, his hands entwined in her hair. He knew how to touch her, ignite her, his tongue licking her intimately while his fingers built a pleasure inside her to a point she feared she’d surely explode. His size compared to hers meant he could lift her up and place her wherever he wanted her. Usually, if they were at Harry’s place, they would start in the kitchen, move to the dining room table and end in the bedroom. At Wisteria Cottage, Harry would wait for the builders to leave, then haul her upstairs, seducing her into the shower.

  ‘Are we just fucking, or making love?’ Maddy realised this probably wasn’t the right time to be asking. Clearly, right now, he was fucking her. The evening was warm and Maddy, perched on Harry’s dining room table, had her legs wrapped around his waist while he drove into her. But it had started to bug her that she wasn’t sure where she stood. Would they return to being neighbours when she moved back into her house, which she could technically do soon? She’d even warned Roy she might not need to stay at Wisteria Cottage for much longer. Was their relationship just sex? He never shared how he felt about her, so Maddy would hold her tongue, too, not wanting to look foolish.

  ‘Right now, I’m fucking you,’ Harry said, gleaming with sweat. She’d been stripped of all clothes except her bra. He was naked with his boxers and shorts at his ankles. This evening, as soon as she’d arrived at his house, he’d come to her with an urgency. All the curtains were drawn, Harry had learnt to do that early on, for Maddy to be comfortable and relax. However much she enjoyed pleasing him, she wasn’t an exhibitionist. ‘And in a minute,’ he kissed her between words, ‘I’m going to take you upstairs and make love to you.’

  And he did just that. He had to disconnect from Maddy briefly, to remove his clothes, otherwise he’d have tripped – yes, they’d giggled about that – then he picked her up off the dining room table, hooking his arms under her legs and she wrapped an arm around his neck. He carried her up the stairs, where he started pleasing her all over again, but this time with slower, sensual kisses and touches.

  He hadn’t told her he loved her. But then this hadn’t been going on that long, in relationship terms. How soon did you tell someone you love them? Did she love Harry? Or was this really only sex?

  Snuggled into his chest, sated by their passion, Maddy braved the question, ‘We’re on the same page here, aren’t we?’ she said. Her stomach fluttered with anxiety. Would she like his answer?

  ‘How’d you mean?’

  ‘Well,’ she hesitated, forming the words in her head before she spoke, ‘I’m not wanting you to announce your undying love or anything so serious … it’s far too early.’ she gave a little chuckle, hoping it would keep the conversation light, ‘but I, um, well, you like me, don’t you? Like I like you?’ She slapped her hand to her forehead. ‘God, listen to me. I sound like a teenager.’

  Harry raised himself up onto an elbow, his hand supporting his head, the other stroking her body. ‘Yes, we’re on the same page, if that’s what you mean.’ Harry gave a reassuring smile, and then kissed her. ‘I really like you, and want to see where this goes. My feelings for you are strong, Maddy. Stronger than I’ve felt for anyone in a very long time.’

  Wow. She wasn’t quite expecting that.

  ‘Good, good, because I really like you too.’ It sounded a lamer response than she’d intended, but it was the best she could muster. Harry addled her brain. A month ago she’d never imagined she’d be telling her neighbour she liked him. Wasn’t it funny how things could change with time? She pulled herself up to his mouth and kissed him, and it deepened, his hold tighter on her, yet his kiss was still so gentle, loving. It sent a tingle of delight through her body to her very nerve endings.

  ‘God, I could have you all over again, but I think we need to have some dinner,’ Harry said after pulling out of the kiss, his hardness pressing against her stomach.

  He was about to get out of the bed. Maddy swallowed again. Something else was bugging her. ‘Harry,’ she reached for his arm, ‘I can move back to my house soon.’ In fact, she could move back right away, if she wanted to cope with decorators and kitchen fitters. Considering what she’d been used to at Wisteria Cottage, with Simon and his men, dealing with the workmen at her house would be a breeze.

  She stroked his muscular arms with tender caresses. ‘I’m just worried our relationship may change. We’ll live in close proximity to one another again. The cottage has helped to keep a distance between us, forcing us to make dates … because this relationship has probably moved on faster than both of us would have intended.’

  ‘I’m not worried about it at all. Me and you. It feels so right.’

  And right then, in that moment, Maddy knew she loved him.

  ***

  It had been a couple of days since Maddy had discussed with Harry moving back into her house. He’d insisted she had the lock
s to her front door changed, too. The more he thought about it, the arsonist had obviously used a key to get into Maddy’s house. His money was on Connor. When the guy had come to fit the new uPVC back door and kitchen window, organized through the insurance company, Harry got Maddy to ask him to change the locks on the front door too, and Harry agreed to pay what the insurance wouldn’t cover.

  Harry could feel his anxiety weighing him down. The stronger his feelings for Maddy became, the worse his unease got. He badly wanted to love her, but he was so scared of losing her like he’d lost Karin.

  He wasn’t sure he could go through that level of devastation again.

  Whether he’d been right to do so, he’d been burying his fears and losing himself in the sex with Maddy. He knew he needed to be more open and honest with her.

  Harry felt happier, once he knew the locks had been changed, lifting some of the weight off his anxious shoulders. He needed to know Maddy was safe. If she moved back in across the road, Harry would feel more at ease knowing whoever had entered her house wouldn’t be able to do it again.

  Anxiety was creeping back into Harry’s life, he wasn’t sleeping too well, but he didn’t want to pay the doctor another visit, as he wanted to wean himself off the pills, not increase the dose. He put it down to being busy with the gardening; he’d taken on more jobs to start once the holidays ended, and he still had a lot to do at Wisteria Cottage. He couldn’t bring himself to discuss his illness with Maddy either. What if she rejected him as some fruit loop? People tried to be sympathetic about PTSD, but they didn’t get it. They visualised damaged war veterans usually. Like depression, you couldn’t snap out of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Harry did everything possible to keep himself fit and healthy, to keep the darkness at bay … Maybe he needed to take a run along the Camel Trail, to help fight his demons.

  He hated explaining that he had watched his girlfriend die in a car wreck. Helpless, useless and devastated. He hadn’t got there in time. He’d failed Karin. What had been the point of being a firefighter if he couldn’t save the woman he loved? She’d been carrying their baby, only four months pregnant, just entering the second trimester, but they’d had their twenty weeks scan booked at the hospital … Harry hadn’t known anger like it before, and the grief had exhausted him. He’d felt he wanted to die right alongside them. Apparently, she’d been dead before the car caught fire, but if he’d dragged her out in time they might have been able to save her. He’d seen people brought back to life with CPR. It was the what-ifs that haunted him the most.

  The pain inside his chest, back then, had been debilitating, the overwhelming grief consuming him to the point that he didn’t want to get out of bed. He couldn’t even be bothered to eat. His mother had nursed him in some sense of the word back to reasonable health, and the pain had numbed very gradually over time.

  When he’d thought he was well enough to return to work, it had been obvious he still wasn’t ready. That’s when he’d been diagnosed with the PTSD. He’d accepted a transfer from Exeter to Bodmin fire station, hoping this might rectify the situation. A change was supposed to be as good as a rest. A change of scene to help ease the terrible memories. He was on medication to help, too. His medication had been milder then, and he couldn’t take it when he was working night shifts when he’d need to be awake and alert quickly.

  I’m still not taking my medication regularly now.

  But a sickness down in his gut would hit him every time a road traffic collision was radioed in. Back then, the smell of fire itself sent him into a place Harry couldn’t explain. Lost, dark, inescapable – his nightmares would return. He lasted six months at Bodmin, then decided to concentrate on his gardening full time, which his doctor even recommended. Gardening was therapeutic, relaxing, and eased stress. He wasn’t any use in the fire service any more. He couldn’t help people like he used to, the buzz from it was gone. He was a hindrance, and as such could get another killed, a colleague or a member of the public, and Harry could never live with himself if that happened.

  Shaking himself out of his dark thoughts, Harry wandered over to Maddy’s house. The front door was open because there were men working inside. Harry hesitated. He hadn’t set foot inside Maddy’s house before for fear of what the stench would trigger. He’d kept her garden tidy, fixed the gate, and only looked through the kitchen window to see the devastation. Even then he hadn’t lingered over it. He breathed deeply, taking in the fresh air and then stepped over the threshold.

  A decorator stood on the upstairs landing applying a light olive green paint Maddy had chosen to the walls, while a couple of kitchen fitters hammered and banged and swore away in the shell of a kitchen. Maddy’s brand new back door was wide open and the radio was blaring. Paint fumes and the smell of freshly sawn and sanded wood, plus the air blowing in covered any lingering odour of smoke. The carpet in the dining room had been thrown in the skip a week ago. Harry relaxed.

  ‘Hey, guys, did you get given a key to the house?’

  The older kitchen fitter of the two reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. ‘Yeah, she did give us one, explaining she wasn’t always around some mornings, as she’s living in Tinners Bay.’

  Harry nodded, wishing Maddy would move back in with him. Recently, she’d been insistent on staying at the cottage and keeping some space between them. She’d call him and say she was finishing late at the gallery and would go straight to the cottage. Those evenings he really missed her. ‘Maddy’s had the lock changed on the front door, so I’ll give you the new key.’ Harry took the old key off the man, un-looping it from the key ring and threading the new key on it. ‘Here you go.’

  Harry checked his watch and said his goodbyes to the workmen. He needed to get a move on; he had work to do himself. Like Maddy, at this time of year it was important to make as much money as possible because business was slower in the winter months. He had already loaded his pickup while the guy changed the lock. He thought about texting Maddy to confirm the lock had been changed, but left it. He’d probably catch her later at the cottage. He needed to be left to his own thoughts today, Karin’s death playing on his mind. Sometimes he worried that lifting Maddy over his shoulder and carrying her into his house that night had been a very bad idea …

  Chapter 25

  The gallery had been crazy with people all day. Maddy hadn’t stopped. A sunny day brought plenty of people to the beach, and it was mainly women – mothers and grandmothers, girlfriends and daughters – tired of beach games and surfing and wanting some respite from the sun, who strolled up to the little high street for some retail therapy, if you could call it that in Tinners Bay. With the beach on its doorstep, there was only a small row of shops either side of the road that ran through Tinners Bay, ranging from a mini-supermarket, a gift shop, a couple of surf shops, a trendy boutique, an ice cream parlour and coffee shop, and a couple of cafes/restaurants as well as Maddy’s gallery. She’d had a bumper trading day today.

  As she checked her phone, before slipping it into her handbag, she realised there had been no texts from Harry. He did go quiet on her some days, even if she left him a couple of texts. Why didn’t he reply sometimes? Even in her busiest periods, she’d always found time to send him a text, and reply to other friends. Maybe she was imagining it, but he went hot and cold on her. Yet, when she was with him, she couldn’t doubt how he felt about her, being so attentive with kisses and cuddles.

  Wearily, but grateful because the tiredness meant a successful day, she turned the sign on the door from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ and locked up the gallery. Valerie gave her a friendly goodbye kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Catch you tomorrow, darling,’ Valerie said with a wave, then wandered up the hill, towards her seafront home.

  Maddy headed in the opposite direction, calling in to the Spar to pick up some food for dinner, then continued up the other coastal path towards Wisteria Cottage, listening to the odd but calming noise her flip-flops made as she walked. Her legs ached from standing all day
, and she decided she would soak one last time in the cottage’s beautiful roll-top bath. In some ways, she wished it was winter, so she could make the bath hotter and stay in it longer. Maybe if Harry was still working up at the cottage, she could convince him to join her.

  Maddy was pleased to see Harry in the garden as she strolled up the path. He was shirtless with the evening sun still warm on his golden tanned back and his skin glistened with sweat due to hard work. As he dug and turned the soil over, she watched his muscles flex. Her excitement soon dropped to disappointment upon seeing Simon and his men still working at the cottage, too. That would delay her bath. Most of the work inside had been completed. But they were still finishing the extension. She wouldn’t want to run the bath until they’d gone. It would hardly be relaxing with strangers walking around yelling and hammering, even with the door locked.

  ‘Hey, you,’ she called out as she approached Harry, fearing she’d scare him half to death if he hadn’t heard her come up the path. Busy working, he had his back to her and hadn’t seen her.

  He stopped and turned, and grinned when he realised who’d been calling him.

  They kissed briefly, greeting one another. A very couple thing to do. Maddy liked it.

  ‘You’re working late,’ Maddy commented. She’d closed the gallery at seven tonight.

  ‘I wanted to catch you.’

  ‘Did you now?’ she said, smiling and wiggling her eyebrows. ‘And on the way up here, I was fantasizing about sharing a bath with you in the huge bath this delightful cottage has.’

  Harry glanced at Simon and his men working. ‘I like the sound of this fantasy, however, don’t you think they’ll ruin it?’

  ‘They should bugger off soon.’

  ‘I have a present for you,’ he said, delving his hand into his shorts’ pocket.

  ‘Really, what brought this on?’ She beamed. Maddy wasn’t used to receiving gifts. And buying her something meant Harry had been thinking about her.