Cinnamon Gardens

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘No, I don’t think it’s worth it. But you should get it checked, in case I’m wrong.’

  ‘Once I got up there in full daylight, I could see for myself how bad it was. I wish I hadn’t been so rude to that estate agent. You were right. I should have found out what his client was willing to pay.’

  Angus didn’t say anything, but he took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

  She sniffed, but one tear wouldn’t be held back and he wiped it away with the tip of his forefinger, sending more of those delightful shivers round her body.

  ‘I did so want a home of my own here, not a rented place,’ she confessed.

  ‘Life’s like that. As John Lennon said …’

  She repeated the rest of the line with him, ‘“Life is what happens to you when you’re making other plans”.’

  It had happened two or three times now that one of them had started a quotation and they’d finished chanting it together. They seemed to be on a very similar wavelength, for all the differences in their backgrounds.

  She sighed. ‘I suppose I’ll have to go crawling back to that horrible Jeffries man and find out what his client is offering.’

  ‘Pity you were quite rude to him.’ He thought for a moment, then said, ‘Hey! How about I go and see him, pretend you and I are together and tell him you were having a bad day when you spoke to him? I’ll say I’m trying to make you see sense about the house. He and I can have a man-to-man chat about how best to make you consider an offer.’

  ‘Would you really do that for me?’

  Silence hung like a fragile gossamer curtain between them, then he nodded. ‘Yes. I would. And before you ask, I’m not saying that to get into your knickers.’ He twirled an imaginary villain’s moustache.

  She chuckled but then she had to ask, ‘Why are you saying it, then?’

  ‘Damned if I know. Because I want us to be friends, I suppose, and friends help one another.’

  ‘I’d like to be friends. I don’t know why I feel so comfortable with you, but I do. And I gratefully accept your offer of contacting Jeffries. Here’s his business card.’ She handed it to him, then looked out of the window. ‘Do you think the sun is over the yardarm yet?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘I haven’t bought any wine yet but I’ll buy a couple of bottles. Then we could drink to Mr Whatsit paying me a fortune for this sad wreck of a house. We could either walk into town to buy the wine or you could have a ride in my new car.’

  ‘I have a better idea. I’ve got plenty of wine at my place. Why don’t you come and visit me? I’ll show you round and then stand you a comforting glass or two.’

  ‘All right. You’re on.’ She felt happier at his kindness. Younger inside, too.

  He joined her, looking up at the sky. ‘It’s going to be a fine evening. How about I drive you to my place in my car and then I’ll walk you home later? I don’t care to drink and drive.’

  ‘Sounds good. I’ll lock up this house.’

  ‘I’ll nip upstairs first and open all the attic windows. It won’t hurt to start drying it out.’

  She didn’t say, ‘Why bother?’ but she thought it. She always tried to be honest with herself, even when it hurt.

  ‘I must start going for walks,’ she said when he rejoined her. ‘I’ve not done any real exercise since I got here.’

  ‘Don’t tell me you like walking.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘So do I.’

  ‘One of the things I’ve been planning to do here is to go for long walks in the countryside. I’ve looked online at this part of England and seen photos of it in the spring and summer. It’s so pretty.’

  ‘Yes, it is. You can get booklets showing where to walk locally. And … if you like, I could show you some of my favourite walks. I’ve been neglecting exercising, too, except for moving about to stop my body seizing up from too much work at the computer.’

  ‘I’d like that very much.’ She looked back at the house and wrinkled her nose. ‘Ugh. I can still smell that horrid mould.’

  ‘It was pretty bad up there. I shut the door from the house into the attic again but you should sleep with your bedroom windows open.’

  ‘Good idea. You’re being kind and thoughtful towards me again.’

  ‘Yes. And I’m enjoying it … again.’

  They stared at one another for a moment, then he opened the car door for her and drove off.

  Angus stopped at the top of Peppercorn Street, which was a dead end with a circular turning circle for vehicles. He gestured to a drive with high hedges on either side and a rather uneven surface. A big sign said: PRIVATE. KEEP OUT.

  ‘That leads to my place. But first, it’s time for another confession. Nell, my house is quite big and it’s been here for more than two centuries. I have a couple of acres of land with it as well. The developers have been trying to get hold of it for years.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘My official address is number 1 Peppercorn Street, but the house was here long before the street was extended so far up the hill. I think the numbering was just done as a convenience for the postal services.’

  She was startled. ‘What? You live in a stately home?’

  ‘Hardly. The house is called Dennings and it’s larger than average, yes, but nowhere near a stately home. It’s just … well, a gentleman’s residence. I wish I could afford to keep it up properly because it could be a little gem. However, unlike your late aunt, I do keep the roof and basic structure in good repair. Inside, though, most of the rooms are dusty and unused because I work long hours. Don’t expect me to entertain you in grand style tonight. I live in three rooms downstairs, four if you count the kitchen.’

  He stopped the car for a second time at the end of a drive about fifty yards long and gestured to a square stone building at the end of an even longer stretch of drive that curved to the right. ‘There you are. A neat little Georgian residence. Mi casa es su casa.’

  She recognised the Spanish phrase and repeated it in English: ‘My house is your house. It’s a nice way of saying welcome, isn’t it? I may take you up on that literally if my house falls down on me.’

  He stared at her solemnly. ‘Any time you need a place to stay, you can come to me. I mean that. I have lots of spare rooms.’

  She felt flustered by the way he was staring at her. She didn’t know what had made her say that. ‘Oh. Well, it’s very kind of you, but I’m not without money, so I can afford to rent a place, even if I don’t sell my house quickly. If the musty smell gets any worse, I may have to do that quite soon. Once I’d opened up the attic, it felt as if I’d let the genie out of the bottle. What’s the rental market like in Sexton Bassett?’

  ‘Mostly it’s flats. Houses get snapped up quickly and seem to me to be rather expensive to rent. But what do I know? I’m into computers, not property.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope the fungus is manageable, so that I can at least spend a couple of months in Fliss’s house before I hand it over.’ She looked at Dennings again, sighing with envy. It was such a pretty building, but the garden was a mess. There was a gravelled circle for cars to turn round in and another gravelled track led round to the rear. Something about the place seemed familiar, she couldn’t work out why.

  Angus offered her his arm in an old-fashioned gesture and led her to the front door. ‘I usually go in by the servants’ entrance at the other side, but since I want to impress you, we’ll use the front door today.’

  He unlocked it, then held up a hand to stop her going inside. ‘Wait there till I come back for you. I have to disarm the security system.’

  The minute he stepped inside something began beeping. It grew louder, sounding quite frantic for a moment, then stopped abruptly. He came back and offered her his arm again. ‘Won’t you walk into my parlour, madame?’

  ‘I’d love to.’

  ‘Oh!’ She stopped a couple of paces inside to take in the hall. As he had said, the house wasn’t grand and this part did feel
dusty and unused. But the hall was completely panelled in honey-coloured oak and had a pretty staircase rising on the left with elegant wrought-iron banisters. There was an elaborately moulded plaster ceiling and the floor was tiled in what looked like marble.

  The late evening sun was shining through the stained glass panels on either side of the front door, splashing patches of vivid colour here and there across the floor and walls.

  ‘It’s beautiful, Angus. I can imagine why your family has never sold it. I’ve visited one or two grand houses – and, yes, we do have some in Australia – but I could never imagine living in them.’

  ‘And you could imagine living here?’

  She surprised herself by saying ‘Definitely!’ without hesitation. She thought she heard a sound of distant laughter, as she had done in her dreams, but told herself she was imagining it. That dream certainly had lingered in her memory. Ridiculous, really.

  Angus let her peer into the ground-floor rooms from the doorways, but refused to allow her to spend long exploring. ‘We’re here for a glass of wine, not a guided tour or a historical lecture. You can look round at your leisure another time. It’s easier in full daylight, anyway. White or red wine?’

  ‘Either.’

  He took her into the kitchen, got out some wine glasses and opened a door at one side to reveal steps leading down, presumably to a cellar. While he was gone, she found a tea towel, and rinsed and polished the two wine glasses.

  He came back and caught her finishing that task. She was betrayed into laughter as he shook his head in mock sadness.

  ‘They had been washed, you know, Nell.’

  ‘I can’t help it. I like to drink my wine out of sparkling glasses. And these are so pretty they deserve better treatment from you.’

  ‘I don’t even notice that sort of thing usually, I must admit. Well, I don’t drink much. I’m too busy and I need my brain clear to work with, since it’s the main tool of my trade.’

  ‘Absent-minded professor type?’

  ‘Something like that when I’m creating something.’ He began to open the bottle.

  ‘Can I ask what exactly you do for a living?’

  ‘Computer stuff. I invented a specialist app and it’s made me some money, so when I got offered voluntary redundancy, I didn’t look for another job. I’m working on a suite of apps that might make even more money. Or might not, but I hope they will. More than that I won’t say, because I don’t tell anyone the details. I’m getting there, though.’

  He looked at her very seriously and added, ‘Since I already have one app doing quite well for me, certain people have been trying to find out what I’m doing. Someone’s tried to hack into my computer a couple of times. They didn’t succeed. I’m well protected.’

  ‘Very wise. Give that to me.’ She took the bottle and wiped round the top of it, then sniffed it. ‘Smells good. Needs to breathe a bit, don’t you think? There isn’t a label. What exactly is it?’

  ‘I guess you could call this un petit vin de Bourgogne. A cousin of my father’s had a small vineyard in the Burgundy region of France. Dad used to buy his wines from them by the barrel, then bottle them himself. When the cousin died, his son sold the vineyard to a big wine company. Pity. I’m fortunate my father bought more than he consumed, so I still have a fair few bottles left.’

  ‘Is your father dead?’

  ‘Yes. He was a good guy but quite old to be a father. I was a late-life surprise to my parents.’

  ‘And your mother?’

  ‘She was younger than him. Now she lives in Spain and has a very jolly life there. I can’t keep up with what she’s doing. She used to descend on me sometimes, bringing her latest lover or friends, showing off the house. When I closed most of it up, she started to go to a cousin in Kent instead.’

  ‘She sounds fun.’

  ‘She is. In fact she and the cousin are an amazing pair, lively and outgoing. Both of them love partying, so I’m a disappointment to my mother. I spent a couple of days there with them at Christmas and they exhausted me.’

  ‘I envy you having relatives. My father quarrelled with his, emigrated and refused to communicate with any of them again. I still don’t know what they quarrelled about. Something and nothing, knowing his chancy temper.’

  ‘Are you going to try to trace the relatives?’

  ‘It’s on the list of things to do. I have to deal with the house first, though.’

  He put one finger on her lips. ‘We’re not going to talk about that, remember? We’re just going to have a few drinks and chill out.’

  He stared at her, then said, ‘Oh, hell!’ in quite a different tone and pulled her into his arms.

  The kiss began gently, but it didn’t stay gentle and before she could think about it, she was kissing him back just as hungrily.

  When he pulled away, he looked at her very seriously. ‘Something keeps happening between us, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. Chemistry. It’s taken me by surprise. After my troubles with Craig, I never seemed to fancy anyone.’

  ‘He must have done a right old job on you.’

  ‘Oh, yes. Wife-beating was alive and well in our house. I still hate him.’

  ‘He beat you?’

  She shrugged.

  ‘I don’t blame you for hating him so thoroughly then. Joanna and I had eighteen glorious years together. You’re the first woman I’ve wanted since she was killed.’

  ‘Oh.’ Nell’s breath caught in her throat and a trace of fear crept in as well as desire.

  He studied her as if he understood how she was feeling. ‘I don’t think it’d be good for me to try to rush you into anything, but I do think we should let things unfold and see if we keep feeling good together. Will you do that? It’s worth a try, surely? Chemistry like ours doesn’t happen very often.’

  She felt shy, swallowed hard and managed to nod. It was as if she’d taken a step forward in her new life and it felt … right. Very right.

  ‘I’m a pretty civilised guy, even though I do fancy you like crazy. I’ve never hit a woman in anger in my life.’ He grinned briefly and looked down at his thin, wiry body. ‘I’ve never hit a man, either. I’m not the macho type.’

  She was silent for a moment or two, wondering how frank she dared be, then thought what the hell. Angus had been open with her from the start. ‘I didn’t think I was able to, um, inspire desire in anyone.’

  ‘Well, you were wrong.’

  ‘Good. But after three children, my body isn’t … all that trim.’

  ‘Ah. He made you ashamed of your own body, didn’t he?’

  She nodded.

  ‘What is he, Mr Perfect? Joanna had to have a Caesarean when Oliver was born. I used to kiss her scar. It was a badge of honour as far as I was concerned. It gave me my son.’

  ‘Would she approve of you finding someone else?’

  ‘Oh, yes. We discussed it once or twice. As you do. When you’re happy with someone you want them to be happy again if the worst happens. I mourned good and hard for a while, but I’m over that now. I’ll show you her photo next time. I think you’d have liked each other.’

  With a complete change of tone, he added, ‘Now, drink your wine, woman.’

  Nell felt so relaxed with him that after a mere two glasses she fell asleep and didn’t wake until he shook her gently.

  ‘It’s getting late. Want to spend the night here, sleepyhead?’ he asked softly. ‘No strings attached. I have plenty of spare bedrooms.’

  ‘I don’t think so. Sorry to fall asleep on you. I’m still getting over jet lag.’

  ‘I’d better walk you home, then.’

  When they got outside, she stopped. Something about the garden once again seemed familiar. It was nearly dark now so she couldn’t see it clearly enough to be sure but it reminded her of the dreams. No, why was she thinking about those? And how could it possibly remind her of anything? She’d never been here before today.

  ‘Was it a pretty garden once, Angus?’
>
  ‘It used to be. The other side’s in better nick than this one. I go out and pull up weeds sometimes when I’m thinking about a problem. Never fails to get the old creative juices flowing. I’ll show you round the grounds next time.’

  At her house she took the initiative, twining her arms round his neck and kissing him thoroughly.

  ‘Ooh, you are so masterful,’ he teased.

  She smiled as she went inside, but wrinkled her nose at the smell of mould. It seemed worse than before, as if they’d stirred it up with their investigations.

  She went straight to bed and lay for a few moments, going over the evening. Life could surprise you. She hadn’t had any surprises as nice as this one for a long time, though.

  Yeah, right! she thought as she slid into sleep.

  She dreamt of the garden again. Only the voices this time promised her she’d find true love on Peppercorn Street.

  Only … in the morning she wished that dream really could come true. Imagine finding happiness and safety with a man who was a friend as well as a lover.

  She wasn’t greedy, didn’t desire a fortune, just kindness, love and companionship.

  She dozed off again briefly and Angus appeared in another dream, holding out his hand and dancing her up and down his hall. It felt as if she was floating on a cloud of happiness and sunlight.

  It was one of the nicest dreams she’d ever had in her life and when she woke up properly an hour or so later, she was smiling.

  Chapter Nine

  Janey was up early on moving day, getting dressed and finishing off packing her clothes quietly as she waited for Millie to stir. She’d felt so excited last night she’d not expected to sleep, but she’d slept as soundly as her daughter, for once. Life was so much easier now Millie slept right through the night.

  By nine o’clock she had fed and dressed Millie and was ready to leave, which was stupid because Dawn wasn’t coming to pick her up until ten.

  When the reconditioned mobile phone supplied by Just Girls rang, she jumped in shock, she got so few calls. For a few seconds she could only stare at it. Who could be ringing her at this hour?