Heart in the Right Home

by Lisa Hill

  She was beginning to feel bad about that.

  She couldn’t help it though; she had been so angry with Johnnie. After his dismissal of her last night when she had been the one to suggest they should open discussion with the Hardwickes. Then she’d taken herself into the pub in retaliation – something else she now felt ashamed of – only to discover her disappointment when Gina, one of the bar staff, had told her it was Duncan’s night off. She’d taken a glass of wine out into the pub gardens where James Hardwicke had been reading his book whilst eating supper. He’d asked her to join him and she’d made polite conversation, thoughts racing through her brain, oscillating between whether she should be the one to open the lines of communication between VOCAB and the Hardwickes and why she was feeling so bereft that Duncan hadn’t been behind the bar to talk to. In the end, she’d decided it would cause more harm than good to talk to James about the development and made excuses that she needed to get home to check on the girls. Which was a lie. She had gone to bed, wanting to empty her head of thoughts but instead found herself tossing and turning, trying to get to grips with what all of this was with Duncan.

  ‘No hangover today, then?’

  She was half-way across the carpark to her van when the distinctive Scottish accent cut across her thoughts.

  Duncan was casually leaning against his Land Rover, arms folded, lean, tanned forearms looking golden in the May sunshine, smiling from behind a pair of dark Ray Bans.

  ‘Oh, hello,’ Louise said, suddenly feeling tongue-tied. ‘Um, no, I just had the one drink. How did you know?’

  ‘Saw you from my living room, above the pub.’

  ‘Oh?’ So, he had been at the pub. But he hadn’t come down to see her. Although, why would he?

  ‘Saw you deep in conversation with James Hardwicke; didn’t like to disturb.’

  Perhaps he had wanted to see her then?

  ‘No Johnnie again last night?’ he continued.

  ‘No, he was at another VOCAB meeting. Actually, we were both were, but he felt it was going to go on and I needed an early night to be up for the baking.’ Why was she portraying Johnnie in such a negative light?

  ‘So, you thought you’d go to the pub instead?’ He laughed. ‘Let me give you a hand getting all of that onto the van.’ Before she’d had time to protest, he had taken the trolley handle from her.

  ‘Thank you.’

  They unpacked the stock of baking ingredients, cans of pop, and napkins – she had thought that seeing she’d made an unnecessary trip, she might as well stock up on anything she thought they might be running low on and kill time before returning – in silence.

  ‘I’ll take that back,’ Duncan said, wheeling the trolley across to the bay near the entrance. Louise watched his slender, statuesque physique swiftly push the trolley. She reflected that she couldn’t remember the last time Johnnie had done something chivalrous for her. Even employing Audrey, which had seemed a selfless gesture, had an ulterior motive.

  ‘Thank you.’ Louise smiled and waved as Duncan returned towards his Land Rover, assuming their encounter was at an end.

  Duncan breezed on past his car, looking at his watch. ‘Listen, are you needed back at the stores?’

  Louise froze. An anxious feeling crept up through her body. What was he going to ask her? ‘Um…’

  ‘I was just thinking—’ The wind swept across his dark locks across his face and he pushed them away from his eyes, ‘—it’s lunchtime and The Kestrel, on the Wetherby Road, is on our way back to the village—’ he paused and looked at her with those dark, intense eyes searching her face for a reaction. ‘—well, I just wondered if you fancied a spot of lunch?’

  The anxious feeling coursing through her bloodstream ramped up a gear. She was sure he’d be able to see her trembling in a minute. A moment of guilt washed over her that she was needed back in the stores but then she remembered the way Johnnie had dismissed her at the meeting last night.

  They can do without me for half an hour.

  ‘Yes, why not? Thank you.’ Louise smiled.

  This felt so exhilarating.

  ***

  ‘Coooeee, only me!’ Rebecca called, sweeping into HG1 with a paper bag containing the lunch she had picked up for her and Lottie at the local delicatessen in Montpellier Street.

  ‘Oh, hello,’ Lottie said, looking up from her computer screen. ‘Lunchtime already?’

  ‘Well, I’m glad one of us is busy; we’ve slumped again this week. If we don’t get on and sell a few, there’s going to be some significant gaps in August’s sales figures, when they should all complete.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ Lottie said, standing up and smoothing down her black shift dress. ‘It doesn’t surprise me, we’re far busier on lettings. Oddly enough, the relocation work is really busy, so people are looking.’

  ‘Rich people looking for a country pad the other side of York, not your average Joe in Harrogate.’

  Lottie rolled her eyes. ‘You sound just like Drew.’

  ‘Who sounds just like me?’ Drew said, walking through from the back offices, trying to straighten his tie with his leather estate agent’s file tucked under his arm.

  ‘Rebecca. Off to a viewing?’ Lottie asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Drew kissed Lottie on the cheek.

  Rebecca felt a pang of loneliness as she watched the brief yet intense togetherness of Lottie and Drew.

  ‘I knew you’d miss working with me,’ Drew said, as he sailed on past Rebecca.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she asked, her head turning to follow him as he walked towards the front door.

  ‘You can’t stay away from this place; I hear from James you’ve given each other a month’s notice; you can come and work for us when you finally leave Hardwickes!’ And with that he had disappeared out of the front door, heading up the Ginnel towards Parliament Street.

  Rebecca swung her head back around at Lottie.

  ‘I didn’t tell him.’

  Rebecca smiled. ‘Those two always were as thick as thieves. Shall we have our lunch now?’

  Lottie patted her stomach. ‘Definitely. Emily, are you okay to hold the fort? You were tagging your lunch onto your next viewing anyway, weren’t you?’

  Emily nodded. ‘Yes please, Lottie. I’m seeing this new guy for the first time tomorrow and still I haven’t found the right dress.’

  Rebecca rolled her eyes at yet another loved-up individual. She was surrounded by love but none for herself. It was depressing, and she couldn’t quite help but feel karma was catching up with her after her unforgiveable behaviour with Edward.

  ‘Ooh, exciting!’ Lottie said, gathering her paperwork. ‘We’ll be in the courtyard, if you need me.’

  Unlike Hardwickes, which had a back street running behind the building, HG1 had a little courtyard off the kitchen. This was Rebecca’s third visit to see Lottie this week; she was enjoying lunching with Lottie in the peace and tranquillity of HG1’s little suntrap.

  ‘So how are things with James?’

  Although, Lottie’s persistent interrogations were almost enough to put her off.

  ‘Oh, don’t start that again,’ Rebeca said, following Lottie into the kitchen.

  Lottie paused to flick the kettle on before opening the back door. In typical Lottie style, she had installed a white, ornate, wrought iron table and chairs in the courtyard and filled every edge of the patio area with wooden boxes, brimming with bedding plants. The painted white brick walls of the courtyard were slowly disappearing, where budding lilac petunias, pink fuchsias and electric blue lobelia were blooming.

  ‘Well, you need to sort something out; time is ticking on. It’ll be the end of May before you know it and you’ll need to make a decision about what you’re doing.’

  ‘Yes, I know, you gave me the same spiel yesterday, and the day before.’ Rebecca plonked the paper bag containing their lunch down on the table with a heavy thud.

  Lottie rifled through the contents of the bag. ‘How much do I owe y
ou? Ooh, you got chocolate shortbread!’

  ‘It’s on me; I’m quite enjoying escaping from Hardwickes every lunchtime.’ Truth was she had found a friend in Lottie. It had come as a surprise, even to her, but she liked Lottie’s company; someone who understood about selling houses and didn’t just want to talk about fashion or how they can’t get their baby to sleep through the night.

  ‘Oh, Rebecca, this is the third time you’ve bought lunch! Right, my turn on Monday,’ Lottie said, before shovelling a mouth of prawn mayonnaise sandwich into her mouth.

  ‘Who says I’m coming next week?’

  ‘I promise not to talk about James,’ Lottie mumbled between chewing.

  Rebecca laughed and took her salad box out of the bag.

  ‘Jude’s back from her honeymoon.’ Lottie said, once she’d stopped munching.

  ‘Oh?’ Yet another lovebird. Rebecca wasn’t keen to talk about her either.

  ‘Yes, she came and surprised the children at the school gates this morning; their flight didn’t get in until 2am; she’s mad.’

  Rebecca inwardly groaned. She didn’t want to talk about children either. Top of her lists of subjects she really didn’t want to talk about were couples and children. A constant reminder of the two things she desperately wanted but didn’t have.

  ‘Right,’ Rebecca said, unsure of where the conversation was going and not really wanting to get involved.

  ‘Don’t look like that,’ Lottie said, noticing Rebecca’s reluctance to engage. ‘I wasn’t about to give you a detailed download of their hot honeymoon romance; I was going to talk to you about Jude’s mum, actually.’

  Rebecca laughed. ‘Okay, sorry, it’s just,’ she shrugged, ‘after Edward…’ she trailed off, still ashamed to say, after my affair with Edward.

  ‘Oh, Rebecca, you really have to get over this!’

  This is why she was gravitating towards Lottie. In the past she had found Lottie annoying; her constant positive outlook on life. She had heard her dad, Jack, refer to her as Pollyanna and it was true. She rarely had a bad word to say about anyone. Apart from Edward. Historically, Lottie’s enthusiasm for anything she took to task had made Rebecca want to throw up – how could anyone be that positive? – but since seeing Lottie at that open house last Saturday she’d realised how much she needed someone with so much positivity in her life.

  She had to admit James was like Lottie. But she couldn’t go there. She just couldn’t.

  ‘Okay, sorry,’ Rebecca said, a wry smile twitching at the corner of her lips at having been told off. Eighteen months ago, it would definitely have been the other way around.

  ‘Anyway, as Betty has now moved into the Lodge, her cottage in the High Street is free.’

  The lodge was the little house at the beginning of the driveway to Clunderton Hall. Jude had been living there as a housekeeper last year until Jude and Tom had finally admitted their feelings for each other.

  ‘Fascinating, but what’s that got to do with me?’

  ‘You could rent it!’ Lottie beamed.

  Rebecca, mid-salad-on-fork, mouth open like a baby chick, fell still, like a statue.

  ‘Pardon?’ she managed.

  ‘You could let your place out and rent Betty’s cottage!’

  Lottie was holding her sandwich and smiling like a five-year-old to whom this made absolutely perfect sense, but to Rebecca it made no sense whatsoever.

  ‘And spend most of my life indoors for fear of going out and bumping into Pamela? No, thank you.’

  ‘Drew said you’d say that.’

  ‘You’ve discussed it with Drew?’

  ‘Of course, I discuss everything with Drew.’

  ‘Drew’s Edward’s son!’ Rebecca reached into the recesses of her mind to double check she hadn’t had any conversations about the more intimate side of her relationship with Edward.

  ‘Yes, which is why you should be pleased to hear this news. Drew doesn’t hold a grudge about your relationship with Edward, so why should you be concerned?’

  ‘Because I broke up his parents’ marriage?’

  Lottie blew her hair out of her face, looking totally bored by what she obviously considered to be old news. ‘We’ve been over this. If Edward hadn’t got caught with you; he’d have moved on to someone else—’

  Rebecca’s stomach twisted in knots at Lottie’s frank words. The pain of loving someone only to find out you were merely a play-thing to them. Something to amuse themselves with until they got bored.

  It hurt.

  ‘—he’d had affairs before you.’

  Rebecca closed her eyes and cringed at the word. Affair.

  ‘Oh, get over yourself.’ Lottie placed her hand on Rebecca’s forearm and squeezed it. ‘No-one blames you.’

  Rebecca pursed her lips into something resembling a smile. Lottie released her comforting hand and Rebecca put her fork down, pushing her lunch away, any tiny bit of hunger completely abandoning her.

  ‘I blame myself,’ she said, quietly.

  Lottie rolled her eyes. ‘Look, it’s been nearly a year since Dad, er—’

  ‘Caught us in the act?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t call breakfasting together shagging like rabbits, but Dad does love to recant how Edward was wearing your dressing gown…’ Lottie trailed off, dissolving into laughter and Rebecca followed suit.

  She clutched her stomach. ‘Oh, stop, Lottie, you’re making me cringe with embarrassment!’

  ‘Well, at least you’re now seeing the funny side of it!’

  ‘There is that.’ Rebecca smiled. ‘This is what I need, Lottie, friendship; someone to make me laugh and put it all in perspective.’

  Lottie stopped laughing and cleared her throat. ‘You don’t think James could, perhaps, provide that for you too?’

  Rebecca narrowed her eyes. ‘Lottie Hardwicke, I’ve known you long enough to know when you are meddling; you’d think after so many years you might have actually perfected being good at it.’

  Lottie mocked indignancy. ‘I don’t know what you mean?!’

  ‘You haven’t learnt the art of subtlety! Oh, why don’t you move to Clunderton? Perhaps James is the friendship you’re looking for? You’re too blatant.’ Rebecca folded her arms and legs in unison, like her body was trying to shield itself from Lottie’s artful plan.

  Lottie cocked her head to one side and her long, blonde hair tumbled over her shoulder, making her look like an angel of innocence, not the devil in disguise.

  ‘Thing is,’ Lottie said, rustling the paper bag as she dived in for her shortbread, ‘you know as well as I do that where interfering’s concerned, I have a high success rate.’

  ‘That’s what worries me most.’ The words came tumbling out of Rebecca’s mouth. She couldn’t help it. Because for all her protestations, she would like to escape her flat and town life and living in the countryside might just be the tonic she needed to forget Edward.

  The only problem being, she was bound to bump into his wife.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Louise’s stomach fizzed with anticipation as she followed Duncan’s Land Rover into the Kestrel’s carpark. It was like bunking off school and hoping you didn’t get caught. She pulled up in one of the barn outbuildings, surrounding the carpark, next to Duncan. She watched him jump out of his car and noted how agile he was for fifty-something. She hopped out of the van and went to join him, feeling totally underdressed for a pub lunch in her normal black blouse and leggings attire that she always wore for work in the stores.

  ‘Busy,’ Duncan said, as they strode across the carpark, ‘but it is a sunny Friday, so I guess it’s brought the punters out.’

  ‘Won’t it be busy back at the Arms?’

  ‘I expect so, but they can cope without me for another hour.’

  ‘That’s what I thought about the stores,’ Louise said dejectedly, following him through the trellis archway into the garden.

  ‘We all deserve a break now and again.’ Duncan smiled that twinkly-eyed
smile which was so calming and inviting. ‘You grab that table over there, and I’ll get us some drinks and a menu. What can I get you?’

  Louise felt she could do with a glass of chardonnay to steady her nerves but seeing she had to drive she opted for an orange juice and lemonade. She sat down on one of the slatted garden chairs and looked out over the sprawling view, across the carpark, to fields spreading out on the horizon, with cows grazing. As she waited for Duncan to return, doubt began to creep in. Was this wrong? What if someone saw her? How would she explain lunching with Duncan? But as Duncan returned, his crisp white shirt flapping in the light breeze, flicking that mop of dark hair out of his eyes, she swiftly decided she didn’t care.

  ‘The barmaid said she’d bring our drinks out.’ He handed her a menu. ‘She used to work for me.’

  ‘Oh?’ Louise replied, further doubt sinking in.

  ‘Louise.’ Duncan pushed her glass towards her as he sat down on the chair opposite. ‘We are two fellow business owners having lunch together after bumping into each at the wholesalers. What’s so wrong with that?’

  She added mind reader to his list of talents as she looked away from his intense gaze and focused on the bubbles surfacing in her drink. ‘Nothing,’ she quietly whispered, wondering why she felt like it was wrong. She looked up to find him smiling at her. A kind, understanding smile, not a I-just-want-to-get-in-your-pants type of smile.