The House in the Clouds

by Connelly, Victoria

  A moment later, he disappeared into the dark interior of the house, coming back with a tall glass of lime cordial, clinking with ice cubes.

  ‘Come over the downs, did you?’

  ‘How did you guess?’ Abi asked, patting her cheeks with the back of her hand, guessing them to be a little pink.

  ‘Used to be a big walker myself. Went everywhere on foot. Loved it. Doesn’t do for my knees these days, though. Mind you, this garden is all the exercise I need now. Keeps me busy enough.’

  ‘It’s wonderful.’

  He lifted his hat off his head and had a scratch. ‘Yeah, well, it could do with an army of young folk to help me, but I get by.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you sell any kind of food, do you?’ Abi dared to ask. ‘I’ve only had a very poor sandwich all day.’

  ‘Well now, my wife used to serve cakes, but she died a year back. But I’ve been told my scones are pretty good. I could get you one of those with some home-made jam?’

  ‘Sounds delicious.’

  He gave her a funny little salute and disappeared again, leaving Abi to enjoy the peace of the garden at her shady table. It was a beautiful spot and she couldn’t understand how she had the place to herself, and then she realised that it was the middle of the week and that most people would be at work. Again, she felt a twinge of guilt about that, and yet she was kind of at work too, wasn’t she? She’d been gathering material and inspiration up on the downs.

  And now she was relaxing because, as every sensible person knew, relaxing was just as important as working, wasn’t it? It was just that Abi had forgotten that over the last few years.

  She was just watching a bee on a nearby snapdragon when the old man appeared with a little floral tray on which sat a china plate with a large scone, a chunk of butter on a side dish and a pot of raspberry jam.

  ‘Hope this is all right for you,’ he said.

  Abi nodded in delight and handed him some money.

  ‘Let me get you some change,’ he said.

  ‘No, no. This is all priceless,’ she told him and he chuckled, popping the money in to a deep pocket of his trousers.

  ‘I’ll be over there if…’ he said, pointing vaguely into the garden and wandering off, his sentence unfinished. Abi smiled as he ventured into an overgrown patch of wildflowers and grasses towards a dilapidated greenhouse. She looked back at the house. It was as run down as the greenhouse, with a buddleia sprouting out of the drainpipe on the first floor, but there was an immense charm about the place. It was loved, Abi could sense that, and – like her own garden at Winfield – it was just the place to ease you gently back into yourself if you’d had a rough time of things, and Abi could still feel that jangly sensation from her nightmare, its feelers gripping hold of her, although the sunshine and her surroundings were forcing it to lose its grip a little.

  She sat there for a while, feeling the garden work on her senses, giving her that wondrously drowsy sensation that only a summer garden can give. She finished her scone and jam which was delicious, the raspberries tangy and so very fresh, and then she got up and dared to wander into the garden, her legs slicing through the long grasses either side of the path. She noticed how dry and feathery they were, soft to the touch and blowsy to the eye. A small orchard lay ahead with apple and plum trees and she walked among it for a while, marvelling at the lushness of it all and the view back to the cottage.

  ‘You all right?’ the owner’s voice came from somewhere to her right, making her jump.

  ‘Oh, yes!’ she said. ‘I couldn’t resist a quick look around. Is that all right?’

  ‘Fine by me,’ he said.

  ‘The scone was wonderful, by the way. I loved the jam.’

  ‘Right from this garden.’

  ‘Yes. That must be so gratifying. I’ve just bought a place with a bit of a garden,’ Abi confessed.

  ‘Oh, yes? Near here?’

  ‘Winfield Hall.’

  ‘You bought the hall?’ He looked surprised.

  ‘Well, half of it, but I got most of the garden in my lot. Do you know it – the walled garden?’

  ‘I know of it, yes. Impressive place.’

  Abi smiled. ‘I’m Abigail,’ she said, thinking it only right to introduce herself at this point. ‘Abi.’ She held out her hand towards him and he looked down at his own rather dusty ones, giving them a wipe on his equally dusty trousers before shaking hers.

  ‘Ronnie,’ he said. ‘Well, it’s Ronald really, but that’s awful, ain’t it?’

  Abi smiled. ‘I think it’s regal.’

  ‘Do you now?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Would you like to look around then? I mean, it’s not as impressive as Winfield.’

  ‘I’d love to and I think it’s charming.’

  He led her through a grassy patch. ‘Wildflowers,’ he explained. ‘Good for the pollinators. You must never cut your grass too short.’

  She listened as he told her about the things he was growing and the issues he’d had with too much rain and then too much drought. He pointed out his favourite flowers and told her to come back in September when there’d be a glut of produce.

  ‘I sells a bit, but it’s more fun to give it away. Anyway, everyone around here has their own.’

  Abi was looking forward to the day when she too would have gluts.

  She listened to him as he talked on, envying him his knowledge. He knew so much about plants and was so in love with the world around him. He knew the precise week when the celandine would shine like golden coins in the woodlands, he knew the moment when the nightingale would sing in the valley each evening, and he knew when to listen out for the first cuckoo, the first swallow and where to search for the first delicate harebells growing up on the downs. It was a lifetime of knowing, of being there, of taking in each breath of nature and making it a part of your own soul.

  ‘I don’t know what will happen to this place when I’ve gone,’ he said once they were back at the house. ‘I’ve got no kids, see. We – well – it wasn’t meant to be. The missus couldn’t carry long-term.’ He shook his head and a dagger of pain flickered through his eyes. It was an old pain, but it was still there.

  Suddenly, it was as if the sun had been swallowed up by a big dark cloud and Abi started shivering.

  ‘Are you all right, love?’

  ‘I…’ Abi’s vision was blurring and she stumbled.

  ‘Here – let’s get you inside, okay?’

  She let herself be led into the cottage where it was cool and dark after the heat and brightness of the garden, but Abi welcomed its comforting atmosphere. She could still smell the earth and the foliage through the open windows, and the scent of jasmine too.

  ‘Sit here,’ Ronnie said, easing her down into a worn armchair near the open window where she could feel the faint breeze coming in. Although it was warm, it was still soothing. Abi dared to close her eyes for a moment, but felt swimmy again and so opened them.

  ‘Here,’ Ronnie said. ‘A cup of tea with plenty of sugar.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You must let me pay you, only I seem to have dropped my bag.’

  ‘No need to pay. We’re friends now, aren’t we?’

  She smiled. ‘You’re very kind. And I feel so silly.’

  ‘No, no. Not silly.’

  ‘I’m not sure what happened.’

  ‘Probably a bit too much sun. It sneaks up on you like that.’

  ‘Yes. I’ve been out in it all day. I’m not used to it, I guess.’

  ‘Just take your time and have your tea.’

  Abi sipped at the sweet tea as she glanced around the room. Like the garden, it was full of plants – on the windowsill, on the mantelpiece and on the tops of every other surface. There was an old clock ticking on a dresser that was stacked with newspapers and seed packets and another couple of armchairs heaving with cushions. It wasn’t the neatest room by any means, but it was one of the most welcoming that Abi had ever seen.

  She watc
hed as Ronnie walked over to the dresser and picked up a packet of seeds.

  ‘Oh, blow. I should have planted another row of these last week.’ He shook his head. His old thick fingers picked through the other packets and brown envelopes and he made a small pile to his left. ‘Jobs to be done,’ he muttered. ‘Always something to do when you have a garden.’

  She listened to him, his gentle voice easing her back into her body until she was feeling calm once again.

  ‘I’d better get back,’ she said, feeling that she was taking up his precious time. She stood up and wobbled slightly.

  ‘Hey, now!’ He was by her side in an instant.

  ‘I’m okay.’

  ‘I’ll run you back.’

  ‘Oh, no – there’s no need.’

  ‘You’re really planning on walking back over the downs in this heat, are you? The way you’re feeling?’

  Abi sighed. He was right. She felt completely washed out.

  She followed Ronnie out of the cottage and found her bag. He then led her into the lane where his old car was parked and he opened the passenger door for her, quickly bending inside to remove a heap of netting which he put on the backseat.

  ‘For my cabbages,’ he explained.

  Abi got in. ‘Thank you,’ she said as he started the engine a moment later and headed down the lane.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Embarrassed.’

  ‘No need, my dear.’

  ‘I’m putting you to so much trouble.’

  He chuckled. ‘Are you kidding? This is the most excitement I’ve had in weeks. Months, probably.’ He tutted. ‘Sorry. Shouldn’t have said excitement. Wrong word.’

  ‘It’s okay. I guess I know what you mean.’

  ‘I don’t get out much. That’s what I mean.’

  ‘Neither do I,’ Abi told him.

  ‘You don’t?’

  ‘I recently gave up a job in London and I’ve sort of… well, I’ve been enjoying some time at home.’ She smiled.

  ‘Time alone?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We all need that,’ Ronnie said, ‘but not too much. Not too much.’

  She turned to look at him and saw the sadness in his face again. Was he lonely, she wondered? Perhaps they could be friends. Perhaps they could be each other’s go-to when one was feeling that they’d reached their personal quota of alone time.

  ‘Well, here we are,’ Ronnie said a few minutes later.

  Abi was grateful to see Winfield Hall, but she was a little sad too because she was going to have to say goodbye to Ronnie.

  ‘Would you like to come in for a cuppa? My turn to repay you for your kindness?’

  ‘No, no – you should rest.’

  ‘But you’ll come and see the garden some time?’

  He seemed to perk up at that and nodded enthusiastically.

  ‘Thank you for everything,’ she said as she got out of the car.

  ‘And thank you for your company.’

  ‘I’ll come and see you again, okay?’

  ‘You bet! I’ll make sure there are plenty of scones.’

  Abi laughed as she closed the car door and watched as he drove away.

  It wasn’t until she started walking towards the front door that she saw the car parked behind her own. It was her sister, Ellen’s. Abi sighed. She felt emotionally and physically drained. The very last thing she wanted was an encounter with her sister, but there she was, sitting on the doorstep. She got up, red-faced and impatient when she saw her approaching and, before Abi could say anything, she dropped her bombshell.

  ‘I’ve left Douglas,’ she announced.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Abi had hoped that she’d be able to sneak into Winfield Hall, wash her face with cold water, draw the curtains and slip between the cool sheets of her bed for a little while, but there was no chance of that now.

  ‘I’ve been waiting here forever!’ Ellen went on. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘Just walking in the hills.’

  ‘In the middle of the day?’

  It was on the tip of Abi’s tongue to ask when else would she walk in the hills, but she decided it would be best not to.

  ‘And who was that who dropped you off? Are you seeing somebody?’

  Abi almost laughed out loud at the thought of her seeing Ronnie, but why not? And why not tease her sister a little?

  ‘Maybe,’ she said.

  Ellen didn’t appear to be listening; she was too wrapped up in herself.

  ‘Come on in,’ Abi said. It was her turn to make some sweet tea.

  ‘Did you hear what I said?’ Ellen asked as soon as they were in Abi’s apartment. ‘I’ve left Douglas.’

  Abi nodded as she switched the kettle on. At this moment, she wasn’t too perturbed by the news because Ellen had delivered it before. Several times in fact.

  ‘He’s home at the moment?’ Abi asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Where are the girls?’

  ‘At a friend’s.’

  ‘And Pugly?’

  ‘He went with them.’

  Abi quickly made the tea and gestured towards the garden. Ellen shook her head.

  ‘I feel like I’ve been sitting outside forever,’ she complained, rubbing her bottom. And perhaps it was best that Abi stayed indoors for a while. She’d had more than her quota of sunshine for one day.

  They sat down on the sofa together and Ellen sipped her tea.

  ‘So tell me what’s going on,’ Abi said.

  ‘What’s to tell? I’ve left him,’ Ellen said dramatically, her tone scaring Abi slightly. This had happened before, but there was something in the way Ellen was speaking now that made Abi think it was more serious this time.

  ‘Did you have a fight?’

  ‘Of course we had a fight! We do nothing but fight these days!’

  ‘Oh, Ellen!’

  ‘Don’t say that like it’s my fault.’

  ‘I’m not!’

  ‘You always have that tone of voice with me, Abi.’

  ‘What tone?’

  ‘Like I’m making things out to be worse than they are.’

  ‘Well, you do seem to have this way of attracting drama into your life.’

  Ellen’s mouth dropped open and Abi wished she could take her words back. She really couldn’t face a confrontation right now.

  ‘Listen, Ellen – I just worry about you. I worry about how you respond to things.’ She rested her hand on her sister’s arm, doing her best to placate her. ‘Like this thing with Douglas. I know how hard it is on you and the girls with him always being away. I can’t imagine how you must feel.’

  ‘No – you can’t. You’ve never been married or had children.’

  Abi swallowed hard, doing her best to ignore the cruel barb. Her sister was upset and she was lashing out. Now wasn’t the time to start arguing with her. So she took a deep breath.

  ‘Douglas is doing his best – he really is,’ she told Ellen. ‘You just need to listen to him more when he is home.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He said…’ Abi stopped, biting her lip.

  Ellen frowned. ‘Have you been talking to him behind my back?’

  There was no point in trying to fudge her way through this, Abi thought.

  ‘He came to see me.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Ellen’s face was even redder now.

  ‘Because I was hoping you guys would work things out.’

  ‘Was it his idea or yours?’

  ‘I suggested having a chat with him.’

  ‘So you’ve both been talking about me behind my back? Well, that’s nice, isn’t it? My own sister and husband!’

  ‘Ellen – it’s because we both care about you. We’re trying to help.’

  Something in Ellen seemed to crack then. Maybe it was that word ‘help’ or even ‘care’, but tears glittered in her eyes.

  ‘Oh, Ellen!’

  ‘I’m just so scared he’s going to
leave me, Abi, just like Dad left us!’

  ‘Well, he will if you keep pushing him away like this,’ Abi told her as gently as she could. She put their cups of tea down and pulled Ellen in for a hug. They didn’t often hug as sisters. Ellen was usually far too busy for hugs, but Abi instinctively knew that her sister wouldn’t pull away from her now.

  ‘Douglas adores you. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘But he’s away all the time. How can he love me if he’s away?’

  ‘Because he’s working hard for you all,’ Abi said. ‘He said this was something you both agreed to – that he should take this work so that you could have a nice home and clothes for the children and all those little things you love to buy.’

  Abi did wonder how her sister could have forgotten about that. She clearly remembered Ellen saying how important it was to have nice things – the right house in the right neighbourhood, a decent car and proper clothes for the girls to wear. Then there were all the things that came from just having a big house like the extra work which meant Ellen had hired a cleaner, and the garden which needed maintaining. To say nothing of the expensive holidays they took each year – sometimes twice. All those things cost money.

  ‘But I miss him.’

  Abi could feel the genuine pain in Ellen’s voice.

  ‘Ellen? When was the last time you were happy?’

  Ellen leaned back with a sniff and mopped her eyes with a tissue. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, when were you and Douglas in a good place together? When were you not fighting?’ Abi asked. ‘Can you even remember?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Ellen said, and then she frowned as if she were genuinely trying to recall. ‘It was at The Ridings.’

  ‘The terrace house?’

  She nodded. ‘Number Eight The Ridings.’ She gave a hollow little laugh as she remembered it. ‘I thought I hated it there. I thought it wasn’t good enough for us. It was so small and pokey and the garden was overlooked.’ Ellen took a deep breath. ‘But we didn’t fight there. I mean, we used to have our little disagreements about whose turn it was to take the rubbish out, but that’s normal isn’t it? Anyway, it certainly wasn’t like it is now.’

  ‘And Douglas didn’t have so much pressure on him there because it was a smaller home to run. This mortgage is crippling him and he’s feeling the pressure of all the new stuff that’s being bought all the time. Stuff that, perhaps, isn’t always needed,’ Abi said as delicately as she could while still trying to get Ellen to really hear her.