by Susie Martyn
Chapter 6
Saturday dawned, and little did Lizzie know when she awoke on what was to have been her wedding morning, that the cogs and wheels of the universe were revving up again, ready for the next instalment. But blissfully unaware, she lay there savouring the peace and the fact that her friend was here, until Katie yawned sleepily and stretched.
‘I thought we’d go out for lunch,’ she announced stifling a yawn. ‘My treat. There’s a place near here I’ve read about. The Old Goat, or something like that. It has to be better than this place. Actually it’s quite famous - I heard it’s won an award.’
‘One condition though,’ Katie added, yawning again as she sat up. ‘You’ll have to find some better jeans.’
After a late breakfast with Tilly, who’d returned with a covering of dog hair and a headache from Antonia’s, they wandered off to retrieve more bits and pieces from Lizzie’s car, and also to check on its progress. As they rounded the corner and the garage came into sight, Lizzie nearly fell over backwards. The bonnet was up and a young mechanic-type in greasy overalls was poring over the engine.
‘Morning. Are you Mick by any chance? Only that’s my car… And I was hoping it might be ready…’ Lizzie stood looking hopefully at Mick, who scratched his head.
‘’Lo Miss. Well, ‘fraid to say it’s buggered.’
As he spoke, the bottom dropped out of Lizzie’s world. Not having her car, this changed everything. How would she get to Cornwall now?
‘Can’t you do something? Please?’ There was desperation in her voice.
‘Well, on a car this age, it’d cost more than it’s worth to put it right. Wouldn’t make too much sense really. But it’s up to you.’
‘How much are we talking about?’
‘Well, ‘ave to get the parts on Monday, but rough figure…’ Mick mentioned a sum that made both girls wince.
‘Trouble is, it means I’m stuck,’ Lizzie’s voice had gone squeaky. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
Mick cocked his head like a sparrow. ‘Me sister’s selling her car. If you’re interested, mind… Nice little jeep. Quite clean and tidy. I’ve been looking after it for her. Tell you what. I’ll bring it over next week if you want to take a look at it. Tuesday say. Ok?’
What could Lizzie say. Only chances were, seeing as this was Mick, it would probably be Friday at the earliest and by then she’d have been here well over a week. It had already been quite long enough and Lizzie was restless for magical Cornish coasts and that bracing dip in the sea.
‘Ok,’ she said with great reluctance. ‘I better give you my mobile number. But if there’s any chance you can get it here sooner, I’d be really grateful...’
‘Okey dokey,’ said Mick. ‘You taking them bags now? Only s’pose you’ll want me to get rid of it…’
‘Oh!’ Lizzie started. How could she, when it was her last link to her mother.
Katie elbowed her. ‘It’s a car Lizzie. Just a car. It isn’t important – not really. It’s ok…’ she added looking anxiously at her, as they gathered the last of her suitcases. ‘Come on. Let’s get everything back to the pub.’
A perplexed Mick watched them unload what was left and stagger back down the lane. Safely back in her room, Lizzie dissolved into tears.
‘Come on. Change,’ said Katie bossily, never one to be sentimental. It was a car, for God’s sake. ‘We’re going to be late for lunch.’
It was the next piece of the cosmic jigsaw as without a car, Lizzie was stuck here. For an indeterminate period - or until Mick turned up with another one.
The Old Goat wasn’t far away and they sped along the lanes in Katie’s MG with the roof folded down, slowing down for groups of horses the odd cyclist. After a recent review in a national paper, the pub was crowded, word having spread far afield about its weekend roasts and locally sourced menu, hence lines of brand new Audi’s and BMW’s crammed down the sides of the lane.
Unlike the Star, it looked just as you imagined a country pub should with a quaintly sloping thatched roof and window boxes brimming with flowers. Inside, the stripped wood and fresh white paint was a welcome sight, as was the starched linen and menus on the tables. Looking around, Lizzie was suddenly ravenous. Fortunately Katie had booked – every spare table was taken.
She perused the menu for ages, trying to make up her mind.
‘For goodness sake, just order something,’ said Katie, before suddenly jumping up. Then ‘No!’ she shrieked as two men came towards their table.
‘Darling? Is that really you?’ The resonant voice came from the more slender of the two, who was immaculately dressed in a white shirt and impeccably tailored trousers.
Katie stared disbelievingly before she flung her arms round his neck.
‘Darius! It is you! I don’t believe it! What are you doing here of all places?’
‘I might ask the same of you, flower,’ he mock-flirted back.
‘And Angel too! Oh wow!’ She kissed him noisily on both cheeks.
Katie’s shrieks had got the attention of most of the restaurant, but Angel was not the least perturbed. Camp didn’t describe the half of it. One looked as though he was wearing lipstick, and flamboyantly dressed in a bright cerise shirt, he wore the most gorgeous jeans Lizzie had ever seen, so soft-looking she had to stop herself reaching out to touch them.
‘Boys, meet my friend Lizzie! She’s marooned here! Her car broke down…’
After breathless gasps of ‘no’, and ‘not really’, the boys embraced Lizzie just as warmly.
‘How’s Sylvia, pet?’ Darius asked Katie. ‘I got her a darling little piece for her boudoir, did she show you?’ Sylvia was Katie’s mother.
‘She loves it! I think the entire street’s seen it! Darius’s Mum is her neighbour,’ she told Lizzie. ‘Why don’t you join us for a drink? We haven’t even ordered our food. Lizzie can’t make up her mind…’
‘Darlings, we’d love to… if you’re absolutely sure…’ The boys looked delighted.
‘Goat’s Cheese salad, Lizzie darling – it’s to die for,’ said Angel, brushing against her arm as he sat down, giving her a feel of that denim. She’d been right. Soft as velvet. ‘It’s the house special - on the quiet. The Old Goat…don’t you see? Anyway, it’s divine, I assure you…’
Pulling up an extra couple of chairs, Darius proceeded to explain how they’d just bought a cottage nearby.
‘We’ve relocated, flower,’ he explained to Lizzie. ‘Our little antique shop. From the King’s Road to Rumbleford… sounds quite poetic doesn’t it? Angelus, it’s called – after both of us – An-gel-us…’ he annunciated. ‘Anyway, we needed a little bolt-hole. A love-nest,’ he whispered, just to make sure she understood.
‘How exciting!’ said Katie.
‘Well it is…’ said Angel. ‘And what we really want more than anything is to sit outside in the evenings, petal. Have little cocktail parties…’
‘You know how we love parties…’ interrupted Darius theatrically.
‘… and invite our new neighbours. It’s the quietest place on earth there darlings… like you just wouldn’t believe…You can hear the flowers talking and almost touch those stars, I swear. So different to London…’
‘It is,’ said Darius, but you could hear the ‘but’ in his voice. ‘I mean, it seems scandalous to whinge darlings, but the garden’s…’ He looked over his shoulder furtively, ‘… bombed. A war zone. There. I’ve told you.’ He sat back looking disgusted.
‘You know what we’re like,’ said Angel to Katie. ‘We’re just not DIY-ers. We shouldn’t moan because really, we’re just so lucky to have found it, but I mean petal, just look…’ He apologetically showed them his hands, as lily-white and manicured as Katie’s.
‘Mmmm…’ Katie was thinking. ‘But you know, I’ve actually just had the most stupendously brilliant idea. You’re just not going to believe this, but Lizzie’s a garden designer. Why doesn’t she do it for you?’
The boys and Lizzie stared at ea
ch other – the former in ecstasy, Lizzie in total horror.
‘Oh, Lizzie. Please say you’ll do it. We’re desperate…’ they pleaded in unison, each of them grabbing her hands.
Lizzie looked from one to the other in shock. It was way, way too soon. The idea was one thing, but she hadn’t actually decided, had she, nor got as far as the many practicalities. There was the small matter of a car, for instance. She’d have to say thank you, very firmly, but no. Maybe in a month’s time, if they still wanted her, but at the moment, sorry, but it’s just out of the question. A picture of a tiny cottage miles from anywhere crept into her head, with one or two flowerbeds that needed weeding and a patch of long grass to mow…
‘Darius could collect you on Monday,’ offered Angel, as if reading her mind. ‘And don’t worry about tools darling, we’ve no end of those around the place…’
‘Oh! Perfect!’ Katie clapped her hands in glee.
The Goat’s cheese special did indeed look divine but as the boys left, Lizzie was having doubts.
‘Katie! What were you thinking? You’ll have to call it off. Tell them it’s all a mistake…’
‘Oh Lizzie, it’s a great idea,’ said Katie smugly. ‘Wasn’t I clever to think of it?’
Lizzie had shaken her head.
But as they ate, Katie was determined to talk her round.
‘I don’t see what the problem is,’ she persisted. ‘I mean, one garden, Lizzie – what will that take you. A couple of days? You’ll have that long at least before Mick turns up with the jeep. Just do it! It’s not as though it will stop you going to Cornwall…’
Lizzie had to admit she was tempted. And with any luck, she’d be on the road again by next week. As Katie said, she’d finish the boys’ garden in a couple of days and be leaving Littleton for good.
What a day this was turning out to be, thought Lizzie, with new-found fragile optimism. Full of the strangest coincidences… bumping into Katie’s friends like that, here of all places.
As more cosmic jigsaw-pieces slotted into place, Lizzie was just adjusting to the idea when out of nowhere, came a thunderbolt.
‘Excuse me a moment… I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch, but it’s just that I think we know each other...’
Another of Katie’s amours? Through a mouthful of the locally grown arugula and baby spinach leaves, Lizzie looked and looked again, realising with a shock that he was talking to her. Her heart did a hop and a skip - he was gorgeous. That tousled fair hair, faded jeans, the worn shirt... Her kind of man, most definitely. She gazed back shyly, trying not to choke as the last of the salad caught in her throat and made her eyes water.
Taking a sip of water she swallowed. ‘Um, have we?’ There was something familiar about him. She’d seen him before – somewhere - but for the life of her she couldn’t remember.
As she wracked her brain, the hubbub of voices in the background seemed to fade and the strangest feeing creep over her. It was like she knew him – yet she didn’t. But on another level altogether, they recognised each other. Like soul-mates, she pondered. Twin flames. Matching halves....
‘I know it sounds like a really dodgy chat up line,’ he continued earnestly, which in all reality it did. ‘But I’m sure we’ve met.’ He looked at her intently. ‘I just can’t remember where.’
For a moment it was tangible as the goat’s cheese on Lizzie’s plate, this connection between them. But as they gazed at each other, just as quickly it vanished, leaving them wondering if they’d imagined it.
‘Hey, look, I’m sorry I disturbed you! Actually I better catch my friends up. Um, have a good lunch.’ He smiled uncertainly, his eyes crinkled at the edges as he turned away. Lizzie’s stomach did a backflip. Katie looked equally as gobsmacked.
‘Wow Lizzie! Wow! How could you not remember him? As chat up lines go, that was good…’
But it hadn’t been a chat up line, she knew that. It didn’t occur to Lizzie for one second that he wasn’t telling the truth.
Chapter 7
By the time Katie had departed for London on Sunday, Darius had already called round to see Lizzie, desperate for her to start work. He’d found them eating breakfast and been most concerned as he looked around the Star.
‘Really, sweetie, you could have stayed with us if we’d known… It’s so awfully, well, agricultural…don’t you think?’
He arranged to pick Lizzie up the following morning first thing.
‘You’d never find it on your own, sweetie! It’s out in the boondocks! The back of beyond, darling!’ he’d added, seeing her look of bewilderment.
It would be a good experiment, Lizzie had decided. To see if garden design and her were a match. It was only one garden after all. She’d cut the grass and weed the flower beds – it would take two days, three at the most. And if it were a total disaster, well. She was leaving anyway, wasn’t she…
With nothing better to do with the rest of the afternoon, she decided to do some more exploring. As she passed Antonia’s, she paused to watch a dumpy woman bumping around the sand school on a rather stocky horse. The woman’s face was red with exertion and the horse looked as though it was about to collapse. Antonia herself was standing in the middle, screeching like a sergeant major, as the horse broke into a rather lumpy trot.
‘HUP, two, HUP, two – heels DOWN, hands STILL – no, no, NO – shoulders back, stick your boobs OUT…Like THIS…YES…’
Lizzie couldn’t understand it. Why subject yourself and the poor horse to something that looked so uncomfortable. Then she glimpsed Cassie cantering a large white horse in the field next door, effortlessly clearing every huge fence she rode it at. Gripped, Lizzie watched. This was better. Incredible, yes and absolutely terrifying.
Returning Antonia’s wave, she continued up the road past the church. A cat yowled and Lizzie briefly glimpsed a ghostly figure flitting among the trees, but by the time she’d blinked and rubbed her eyes it had vanished, leaving her convinced she’d imagined it. Further on were a couple more cottages with neat flowerbeds and trim hedges, and then, what on earth was this?
It had to be the ‘danged ramblers’ that William had been so incensed about. A motley crew wielding ski-poles with plastic bags hanging round their necks, were marching purposefully down the lane towards her. Then, just before they got to her, they turned off the lane and started to climb a padlocked gate.
Ignoring the sign that clearly stated ‘private-keep out –no ramblers’ with a skull and crossbones someone had added underneath, they waited until the last member of their group was over, then continued marching right across the middle of the field. Lizzie was astounded at such blatant disrespect for the landowner. No wonder William had been so irate - she was quite annoyed with them herself. The cheek of it! It just wasn’t on doing that sort of thing, even a townie like her knew that.
Lizzie wandered on up the lane, peering in at every garden she passed, until she almost reached the end of the village. And then she saw it, on the opposite side of the lane, in all its dishevelled, rose-covered glory. An involuntary ‘oh’ escaped her. Facing her was a small, dilapidated cottage. With broken tiles and peeling paintwork, but she didn’t see them, instead gazing unblinking at weathered stone walls festooned with the most glorious colour. A week or two earlier or later, she’d have missed it. As it was, she’d timed it to perfection.
Lizzie crossed the road and just stood, hoping no-one was at home to notice the stranger snooping over their gate. But then something else caught her eye. The ‘To Let’ board in the drive. The house was empty. Lizzie’s heart started pounding.
As if of their own accord, her fingers programmed the letting agent’s number into her mobile.
And before she knew it, Monday had arrived. Darius had come to fetch her in his smart black Freelander which ponged of Eternity for Men, and he chattered excitedly as he drove haphazardly along the lanes, slamming his brakes on and swerving every now and then to avoid flattening an overweight pigeon or panic stricken rabbit that dash
ed out of the hedge on a suicide mission. Weaving along a maze of windy lanes, Darius slowed when they came to a small hamlet.
‘Darling, I can’t believe we’re finally here! Do look! Welcome to our humble abode!’
He turned off between two ancient oak trees and Lizzie gasped. The cosy little love-nest she’d pictured hadn’t remotely resembled this. Sweeping up a rather smart gravel drive with neat lawn laid either side, they parked outside the impressively glassed front of a fabulous, no-expense-spared barn conversion. Tall spiralling topiaries framed the door like sentries.
‘Darius, this is stunning!’ Lizzie was awestruck.
‘Oh darling, come and see the inside. It’s simply to die for!’ Clearly pleased, he flounced theatrically up the wide steps, and flung the doors open.
Inside was just as awe-inspiring. Lizzie’s eye was immediately drawn to the enormous fireplace which towered into the rafters, logs piled high either side. Huge soft sofas and a heavy coffee table were arranged facing it, and though there were priceless antiques throughout, it wasn’t precious, simply hugging you from the moment you entered. To one end was a state of the art kitchen from which clattering and hissing noises were coming, and straight across was another set of huge glass doors. Lizzie’s heart sank – surely this wasn’t it...
‘I’ve got the coffee on. Or tea, darling, if you’d prefer… So lovely of you to do this Lizzie…’ Angel appeared and embraced her.
The boys took in the look on Lizzie’s face. ‘We did warn you, didn’t we petal?’ they said anxiously. ‘Oh deary - are you terribly shocked?’
Taking each of her hands in theirs, they led her through the doors to stand outside, where together they surveyed the chaos. At the far end amongst a bed of nettles were fruit trees, but the rest was a complete muddle, with not too much else identifiable among the brambles, rubbish and overgrown grass.