Clover Cottage: A feel good cosy read perfect for your summer holiday reading (Love Heart Lane Series, Book 3)

by Christie Barlow

  Suddenly feeling a slight tension in the air, Allie looked from Rory to his father. She could understand Rory’s frustrations. She had long considered that Stuart was holding off from retirement because he just couldn’t let go of the practice, and wanted it to stay exactly the same for ever.

  ‘How about you, Alana, what did you do with your afternoon off?’ she asked, gratefully accepting a glass of wine from her and hoping the change in conversation would lighten the mood.

  ‘I went into town and you’ll never guess who I bumped into,’ said Alana with enthusiasm, looking directly at Rory, who simply shrugged.

  ‘Clare – Clare Wilson – well, not Clare but her mother.’

  Rory sat up straight, ‘No way! What is Fiona doing around these parts?’

  ‘Visiting a family friend or something. I had to look twice when I saw her standing in the queue in the department store … She passes on her best and told me all about Clare. Oh, Rory, she’s doing so well for herself.’

  Clare Wilson was Rory’s ex-girlfriend from university and was practically perfect in every way. Allie knew this because this was not the first time Alana had brought her into the conversation. Despite Allie giving herself a good talking to, that Clare wasn’t in any way a threat to her or her relationship with Rory, curiosity had got the better of her and she’d gone searching on Facebook and Instagram until she’d found her. Clare was a natural beauty, even Allie acknowledged that. Her long blonde tousled locks bounced just below her shoulders, her skin was flawless and her piercing blue eyes were captivating. In the last twelve months alone, Clare had travelled to places Allie hadn’t even heard of. Everything she did she did successfully and at first Allie had to admit she felt a tinge of jealousy; the places Clare had visited, the charity work she’d undertaken, looked amazing and often left Allie wondering if she had missed out on life.

  To Allie’s knowledge Rory had dated Clare for over three years, and when he decided to move back to Heartcross on a permanent basis she’d called the relationship off.

  ‘I bet, single-handedly saving the world no doubt!’ joked Rory.

  ‘It’s funny, really, isn’t it—?’

  ‘Funny in what way?’ interrupted Rory.

  ‘Because Clare left for Africa a couple of days ago. You were the one who always talked about travelling.’

  ‘Wow! Africa! That’s incredible,’ trilled Rory, looking suitably impressed. ‘Clare was always a go-getter.’

  ‘Apparently, she’s working as a travelling vet. It sounded amazing when Fiona was talking about her job, even though I’d rather we stick to domestic cats any day of the week. I’m not sure my nerves would hold up if I came face to face with a lion over the reception counter,’ said Alana, giving a little chuckle. ‘Have you ever thought about travelling, Allie?’

  Alana’s question was innocent enough but made Allie’s thoughts quickly flick back to her own childhood. Her parents had travelled around a lot when she was younger, due to the lack of job opportunities, and Allie remembered how they had often been struggling for cash, making times very difficult for them as a family. As soon as Allie began to make friends in a new school, it seemed like only seconds later she would be whisked off to the next destination, her parents hoping for a better life but leaving her feeling unsettled and having to try and fit in all over again. She had been eternally gratefully when they had found their forever home in Heartcross and now she was reluctant to stray far away again.

  As Allie shook her head and took a sip of her wine Alana passed the sandwiches towards them. ‘Tuck in before they begin to curl at the edges.’

  Still thinking about her early childhood Allie realised she couldn’t ever imagine leaving Heartcross. Everything she needed was right here: her parents, Rory, her job.

  Granted, over the years Allie had watched numerous films that featured the bustling cities of New York, London, Tokyo, the sky disappearing between the huge skyscrapers, the traffic, and whilst it had seemed glamorous and exciting, it had also seemed all too manic to Allie, who loved the slow pace of living in the Scottish Highlands, surrounded by the spectacular views of the mountain terrain. Allie knew she would never tire of it.

  ‘So other than the usual spot of gardening, how was your afternoon, Stuart? Did you take a trip into town?’ asked Allie.

  Silence.

  The exchanged subtle look between Stuart and Alana didn’t go unnoticed by either Allie or Rory.

  ‘Okay, what’s going on?’ asked Rory, lowering the sandwich back onto his plate. ‘Is something wrong?’ Rory leant forward, rested one arm on the table and the other on Allie’s knee. Maybe one of them was ill, thought Allie, but Alana seemed to bloom in an instant, a huge smile hitched on her lips, and Allie noticed Rory relax his shoulders a notch.

  Alana folded her arms and leant on the table before nodding towards Stuart to give him the go-ahead to speak.

  ‘It looks like good news with that smile,’ said Allie, regarding Rory with one raised eyebrow.

  ‘This afternoon, we’ve been to the solicitor’s office,’ announced Alana, tilting her head and smiling widely. ‘Go on, Stuart, tell them the good news.’

  Stuart cleared his throat; all eyes were on him. ‘Everything is absolutely fine, in fact more than fine.’

  Beginning to feel impatient, Rory wound his hand round in circles, indicating the need for his father to speed up whatever it was he wanted to say.

  ‘What your father is trying to say is … we are putting the house up for sale.’

  Horrified, Rory looked towards Allie. This revelation was not one he was expecting. Turning back towards his parents, he said, ‘You can’t be serious. Sell this place? Why would you even do that? What about the surgery?’

  This house was Rory’s childhood home; this was where they belonged. He couldn’t ever imagine them living anywhere else or anyone else living here.

  ‘Not this place!’ trilled Alana, chuckling.

  Rory shook his head, ‘I don’t understand. What house?’

  Allie didn’t say a word but tightened her grip around Rory’s hand on her knee. Unlike Rory she had guessed what was coming next.

  ‘The terrace on Love Heart Lane.’

  Allie waited and watched Rory. She knew this revelation had taken him by surprise. There was no sharp intake of breath, just a rhythmic blink then the penny dropped. He drained his drink and looked towards the faces turned towards him. His expression was now completely aghast. ‘Sorry’ – he paused – ‘sorry, for a moment there, I could have sworn you said you were going to sell my house,’ he stated, in a distressed tone, a sick sensation washing over him.

  Alana topped up her glass with wine and then Allie’s.

  ‘And what I don’t understand is why you would even smile about the fact you are making me homeless.’ Rory wilted back in his chair and glanced between his mum and dad, waiting for answers. What were his parents thinking? Rory had lived in the whitewashed terrace on Love Heart Lane since graduating as a vet, as he’d found it difficult moving back into the family home after being independent at university. The property was owned by his parents and he knew he was on a cushy number, living there rent- and mortgage-free, but he’d offered to pay his way and they’d refused.

  ‘What am I meant to do? I’m not moving back in with you two – at my age that’s ridiculous.’ Rory threw his hands up in the air. ‘If the house is going up for sale there’s a very simple solution – I’ll just buy it,’ said Rory, feeling satisfied with his decision. ‘That’s what I’ll do. Why am I even worrying about it? I’ll buy it direct from you … that’ll save your estate agent bills too. Win–win. I’m not losing my home.’ Rory was determined.

  ‘Don’t be daft, you don’t want to have a mortgage hanging around your neck,’ said Alana, ‘when you don’t have to.’ Her voice was upbeat.

  ‘Of course I do,’ argued Rory. ‘I have a good salary, the business is doing well … and I’m happy there; it’s my home.’

  ‘Unfortunately,
buying the house is not an option for the next twelve months,’ cut in Stuart.

  ‘Why?’ insisted Rory, his voice tight.

  ‘Because we’ve agreed to rent it out.’

  Feeling shocked – even she wasn’t expecting that revelation – Allie watched as Rory’s cheeks turned crimson.

  ‘You’ve done what? Why on earth would you do that?’ he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  ‘It’s not a bad thing – if you will let us finish. We’ve signed a twelve-month lease to a man called Flynn Carter,’ announced Stuart.

  Rory exhaled. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  Stuart continued, ‘He’s a property developer looking into this area due to the increase in tourism, or something along those lines.’

  Rory was shaking his head in disbelief again as he looked towards Allie then back towards his father. ‘You’ve already signed a twelve-month lease? Without talking to me first? So when are you actually making me homeless from?’

  ‘The first of the month.’

  ‘I don’t believe this … Marvellous, absolutely marvellous.’

  Allie placed her hand on Rory’s arm to calm him, but she was feeling confused too. She knew Stuart and Alana were fair people and couldn’t quite understand why they would do this. Surely there was a reason behind this? But she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Trying to comfort Rory, she summoned up a smile. ‘You will be able to stay at mine – at the pub. Mum and Dad won’t mind,’ she soothed.

  ‘As if we are going to leave you homeless,’ said Alana, standing up, still with a smile on her face.

  A bewildered Rory and Allie watched as Alana disappeared inside and returned clutching a brown envelope. She sat back down and slid the envelope towards them.

  ‘Let us put your mind at rest. Me and your dad aren’t losing our marbles, you know … Go on, open it,’ encouraged Alana.

  Rory and Allie locked eyes before Allie took the envelope and opened it.

  Both of them stared at the paper in front of them. Allie didn’t understand. ‘House details? Clover Cottage?’ she said, looking at the particulars and passing them to Rory. ‘Isn’t this James Kerr’s old place?’ she asked, puzzled.

  ‘It is indeed – and, would you believe, James left it to me in his will,’ said Stuart, pouring himself a beer and taking a sip.

  ‘Wow!’ exclaimed Allie, ‘I wish someone would leave me a house in a will.’

  ‘Well,’ said Alana hesitating. ‘That kind of is about to happen, except we aren’t dead yet.’ She chuckled.

  ‘Huh?’ said Rory, looking towards his parents.

  ‘We think Clover Cottage would be perfect for you – for you both. It was your dad’s idea really but I think it’s fantastic too.’ Alana smiled towards them both. ‘Allie would make the perfect daughter-in-law and we would love to welcome her into our family.’

  It took Allie a second or two for the information to sink in then she squealed, grasping Rory’s arm, her hands visibly shaking. The excitement wired her body like she was plugged into the mains. She stared again at the details on the paperwork in front of her.

  A cottage, their very own cottage.

  She was genuinely shocked. ‘Oh my gosh, is this some sort of proposal? I’d love to be your daughter-in-law.’ Allie looked towards Rory with hope, a swarm of fireflies fluttering around her stomach at a speed of knots. ‘Rory, we have a house … a beautiful cottage … a place to set up home together.’ She barely took a breath.

  Excitedly, she read out loud,

  Clover Cottage, part of the Clover Farm estate, stands on the outskirts of the picturesque village of Heartcross, freehold detached dwelling

  Modernisation needed. Plot circa 5 acres.

  Even though the words were floating around in the air, Allie still couldn’t get her head around it … a cottage! Things like this didn’t happen to her; they only happened in the movies. This was all Allie had ever dreamt of, to set up home with Rory in such an idyllic setting, just like the one they were sitting in now, and it was right here on the outskirts of Heartcross. Already in her head she’d planned the decor, a new kitchen, roses tumbling around the oak porch and honeysuckle straggling through the hedgerows, the log fire burning away in the winter months.

  ‘Stuart, Alana,’ said Allie, looking up, ‘I really don’t know what to say … “Thank you” just doesn’t seem enough.’ Allie’s head was in an absolute spin. Her and Rory’s home together. This was her dream, cosying up with Rory every night.

  ‘Those particulars are current. We were going to sell the property when Stuart suggested gifting it to you both. We know how hard it is to get on to the property ladder these days and houses in Heartcross don’t come around that often.’

  It was only then that Allie realised Rory had not said a word. She looked towards him and immediately sensed something was wrong. Rory looked kind of frazzled, like he was about to explode.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked, biting her bottom lip. She had a feeling something ominous was about to happen. There had been a sudden change of atmosphere.

  Rory took the particulars out of Allie’s hand and slid them back across the table.

  Feeling bewildered, she watched in dismay.

  ‘Thank you but no thank you.’ Rory’s eyes were wide and he didn’t even look in Allie’s direction. Scraping his chair back, he muttered, ‘I need some space,’ before exhaling, raking his hand through his hair and striding towards the kitchen.

  ‘Rory!’ a confused Allie shouted after him but he didn’t even give her as much as a glance over his shoulder. What the hell had got into him?

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Allie, quickly apologising to Alana and Stuart. She stood up and was about to follow Rory when Alana put a hand on her arm. ‘I’ll go,’ she insisted, and before Allie could object Alana was halfway up the path towards Rory, who was leaning against the kitchen worktop with his ankles crossed and his arms folded. Allie sat back down opposite Stuart feeling awkward.

  ***

  As she sipped her wine Allie felt like all her dreams had come crashing down around her. All her fuzzy romantic feelings about setting up home with Rory were fading fast. Her mood slumped.

  Alana and Rory’s voices travelled from the kitchen outside into the garden. Rory’s was irate. ‘How dare you both? I say when, I say where I want to live, and who with. This is typical of you and Dad, always trying to control me at work, and now forcing a home on me. I like living where I am and if I do have to move I would like to choose that property myself. And implying I should ask Allie to marry me. I might not even want Allie to marry me, I may not even want to set up home with Allie. Have you ever thought about that? What gives you the right to do this?’

  ‘We were only trying to help, and don’t you think it’s time?’

  ‘I’ll say when it’s time. I don’t need my parents pushing me into anything. My life, my choices.’

  ‘But houses don’t come up for sale in Heartcross very often. Clover Cottage will be the perfect family home for you both.’

  Listening to Rory’s outburst, Allie felt numb. Her whole world had come crashing down around her. At first, she’d felt like a child at Christmas, one second ecstatically unwrapping the best present ever, and the next, devastated to find it wasn’t actually for her. She knew her mascara was about to run in all directions across her cheeks, and the wretched feeling in her stomach made her feel like she wanted to heave.

  Unfortunately, Rory was locked in a heated conversation with his mother, and, feeling sick, Allie had exhausted all avenues of conversation with Stuart. ‘I’m so sorry, Stuart, please forgive me,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady, though she couldn’t keep the anxiety out of it. ‘I feel I need to go.’

  She stood up; she wasn’t going to hang around any longer. Rory’s reaction had hit her hard. Trying to hide her tears, she bent her head low, grabbed her camera and left the cottage feeling downhearted.

  Walking back through the village, she dug h
er hands deep in her pockets of her jacket, her mood plummeting to an all-time low. She paused briefly and looked out over the village green, Rory’s words playing over on her mind: ‘I may not even want to set up home with Allie.’

  Allie was in turmoil, her eyes full of tears. What the hell had just happened? With her head in a spin, she walked around the pond, past the tall rustling reeds, and sat down on the bench under the large oak tree, trying to make sense of it all.

  This would be the ideal start for them both, a cottage in the heart of the village where their life was, with no financial burden of a mortgage. As far as she was concerned this was the best thing that could have happened to them. Alana was right; houses didn’t come up for sale very often and this cottage would be perfect for them. But after Rory’s reaction Allie was beginning to wonder. The only reasonable explanation for his outburst was that just maybe she’d got this relationship all wrong. Maybe she wasn’t Rory’s happy-ever-after at all.

  Chapter 2

  Ten minutes later, Allie hadn’t moved from the bench. She hugged her knees to her chest and, taking in a breath, she closed her eyes and sighed.

  She didn’t want to go straight home and face a busy pub along with a barrage of questions from her parents about why her evening had been cut short.

  Still close to tears she felt embarrassed by Rory’s reaction and didn’t like the feeling of rejection at all. Where did they go from here? Tonight could have played out so differently. Right at this moment they could have been celebrating, popping open the champagne, and Allie knew she would have dragged Rory straight round to the cottage to take a look inside. But instead, here she was feeling upset, sitting alone.

  Taking a slow steadying breath, she stared at the view in front of her, one of outstanding beauty. It had been a while since she’d hiked to the top of Heartcross Mountain, where the views went on for miles and miles. She closed her eyes, remembering her and Rory’s first proper date, a picnic on the mountain. She smiled just thinking about it. The weather had been kind, with a slight breeze as they’d climbed the small incline towards the pass then walked along the rocky path. Around halfway up there was a small brick building, which, as children, Allie and her friends would use as their den during the long summer holidays, and that was where they’d laid out their blanket. Rory had brought the picnic with a little help from Bonnie’s Teashop and the whole time Allie had felt a flutter of excitement, too nervous to eat. They’d lain on their backs, their faces towards the sky, when Rory had gently entwined his fingers around hers and leant up on one elbow before kissing her for the very first time.