by Heidi Swain
‘Wow,’ I whispered, looking up at the night sky and for the first time noticing just how different the stars looked without the added glow of orange street pollution.
‘Quite something, isn’t it?’ said Matt, also looking up.
‘I’ve never seen so many stars,’ I gasped, feeling dizzy by the sheer number, coupled with the sudden rush of fresh air. ‘One day,’ I sighed, trying to blank out how utterly miserable I suddenly was, ‘I’m going to learn all the constellations.’
Matt took my hand and led me further towards the field.
‘I know a couple,’ he said. ‘That there,’ he pointed, tracing a wobbly course with his finger, ‘is the plough.’
‘Uh-huh,’ I said, following the line and craning my neck as far as I could.
‘And that’s Orion’s belt,’ he squinted. ‘I think. It’s a long time since I looked.’
‘We should take a blanket into the field and lay down,’ I said, rubbing a sore spot on the back of my neck.
Matt stepped behind me and began to work on the pain with the tips of his fingers, using just the right amount of pressure to elicit a low moan that I was mortified to make.
‘That feels better,’ I said, taking a step away, ‘thanks.’
Before I had time to say another word he pulled me close and kissed me. The firm caress of his lips seemed to go on forever and I don’t know why I let it. Whether it was my alcohol-induced impaired judgement, the romance of the stars, or whether I was still feeling guilty for abandoning him in the pub, I couldn’t be sure, but it was a tender kiss, sweet and comforting, but in no way passionate or feverish. When we finally broke apart there was a sudden screeching and scrabbling sound close by and I leapt back into his arms.
‘Sorry,’ I whispered. ‘It made me jump.’
‘We’ve probably disturbed the wildlife on its nightly prowl,’ he said, wrapping his arms around me again. ‘Do you get scared living out here on your own?’
‘No,’ I said, turning my face away a little. ‘Of course not, why would I?’
‘I just wondered if you felt vulnerable out here all on your own when things go bump in the night.’
‘I can’t say I’ve ever heard anything go bump in the night,’ I said, my isolation and potential vulnerability only just becoming apparent. ‘Besides,’ I said, brushing off the fledgling feeling of unease, ‘I have Minnie.’
‘Of course,’ said Matt, tucking my hair behind my ear, ‘and like I said, it was probably just a mouse of something.’
‘More likely to be the barn owl, making a noise like that,’ I said.
‘There aren’t any barn owls round here,’ said Matt, brushing my cheek lightly with his lips. ‘There haven’t been for years.’
‘That’s not what Will said,’ I blundered on, completely forgetting that it was supposed to be a secret, and a secret that he had trusted me to keep.
‘Is that so?’ frowned Matt. ‘Well I never.’
Chapter 25
Thanks to Matt and his devastating declaration, I didn’t sleep well that night. Having finally decided what it was that I was going to do with Gwen’s magnificent bequest, and indeed the rest of my life, I was shattered to think that my hopes and dreams were dashed before they had even been attempted. I wasn’t even going to have the chance to fall at the first hurdle because I wasn’t going to make it that far.
Added to that, I was feeling foolish for not picking up on the gossiping locals Matt had told me be about at the pub and I was also on high alert, listening out for noises, no matter how distant or apparently inconsequential, with Minnie restlessly tossing and turning next to me. In the wee small hours, I lay, alternately trying to fathom out why David had never mentioned agricultural restrictions, why I hadn’t been turned on by the kiss I should never have allowed to happened and then, when I had finally exhausted both topics, I began playing out all manner of home-alone horror stories in my head.
All it would take was one snip of the phone wire and I would be done for. Out in the Fen no one would hear me scream, would they? The reality of my vulnerable position sounded like the strapline for the latest horror movie to hit the cinema screens and I pulled the bedsheet up a little higher, wishing I had a baseball bat hidden under the bed.
When my head wasn’t pounding with fifty ways to die in bed (and none of them through sexual ecstasy), I was admonishing myself for allowing that kiss with Matt to go on for so long. True, he was pretty enough in a cool surfer dude kind of way, and yes, for a moment our intimacy did make me feel less vulnerable in the darkness, which hadn’t bothered me at all until he brought it to my attention, but there had been no real spark, no fireworks in my belly and certainly no stirrings further south as there had been when I caught sight of Will in his bath towel. I sighed and rolled over again, hoping Matt hadn’t gone home harbouring the assumption that that kiss was the start of something more.
I eventually fell asleep, with Minnie’s hot little body pressed close to my side, but mere seconds later, or what felt like mere seconds later, I was woken by hammering on the front door. Terrified that I was about to be murdered in my bed, I hunkered down, but Minnie, who was thrilled with the early morning alarm call, went woofing down the stairs, presumably to let the madman, or woman, in.
‘Charlotte!’ called a man’s voice right beneath the bedroom window.
It was Will. Clearly he was trying to get my attention, but there was something about his tone that suggested he was trying to be quiet at the same time. I tiptoed to the window and peeped out between where the curtains didn’t quite meet.
‘Lottie!’ he called again, catching sight of my curtain-twitching manoeuvre. ‘Hurry up and come down.’
I glanced at the bedside clock and opened the window a crack. The air that rushed in to meet me felt damp yet cool and refreshing.
‘Whatever’s wrong?’ I hissed, trying to push Minnie, who had pelted back up the stairs and leapt from the floor straight on to the windowsill, aside. ‘It’s half past four in the morning.’
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he said exasperatedly, ‘but Grace is flying in your field and I thought you might like to see her.’
‘Oh,’ I said, quickly ducking back inside then out again. ‘I’ll get dressed.’
‘No time,’ he urged. ‘Just hurry up.’
I raced down the stairs, tripping over Minnie, in my girly boxers and frilly vest, all thoughts of sleep and my impending gruesome death banished. Now all I could think about was how Shakespearean and romantic it was to be summoned from my bed by a handsome beau beneath my window. Although, I hastily reminded myself, Will was not my beau and Romeo and Juliet did meet a rather tragic end, despite their passionate beginnings.
‘Well now, look at you,’ Will grinned as I opened the front door. ‘I should call round at this time every day, but you’d better take this,’ he added, reaching around me and grabbing Gwen’s mackintosh, ‘and stick your wellies on, it’s damp this morning.’
Shrouded in early morning mist, the cobwebs strung between the tall patches of weeds and wild flowers looked like diamond-studded strands across the field. They were strikingly beautiful as they glistened in the increasing light and bobbed about jewel-like in a sea of green. Quietly we slipped through the gate and, keeping close to the barn wall, crept around the back so we had an uninterrupted view across what was now my very own field in the Fens.
And then I saw the owl. She appeared through the mist, flying low, her wings hardly beating as she cut a silent path through the air. Her elegance was everything and I felt tears pricking the backs of my eyes as I watched her circling the field before stopping and hovering over one particular spot which had drawn her undivided attention. Her heart-shaped face was firmly focused on a patch of grass directly beneath her and it didn’t move even a millimetre.
‘What’s she doing?’ I asked Will, leaning in close so I didn’t disturb our ghostly companion.
‘Hunting,’ he said, his eyes never leaving the beautiful bird.
Will turned to look at me and smiled. There was an element of surprise in his expression and I was surprised myself when I realised that a tear had escaped and was gently running down my cheek. He stepped close and brushed it away with the soft cuff of his jumper.
‘Sorry about the early start,’ he said huskily.
‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ I said, smiling up at him.
‘She’s quite something, isn’t she?’ he said, looking back to where Grace was still sitting regally on her post.
He sounded besotted and I wondered what it would feel like to hear him say something like that about me.
‘Oh yes,’ I agreed, ‘she’s the most beautiful bird I’ve ever seen.’
‘She’s the only girl for me,’ he added, stepping back and scooping up Minnie, who had been incredibly patient while we watched Grace, into his arms. ‘Apart from you, of course, madam,’ he laughed, kissing her nose.
My fears from the night before about living alone out in the Fens were now firmly kicked into touch; there was nothing to be afraid of out here, and although I had a vague recollection of dreaming about owls last night, I couldn’t quite remember the details; however, when I tried to reach for them I was left with a mild feeling of unease.
‘Do you fancy some breakfast?’ I asked Will, trying not to feel jealous of the attention Minnie was still getting. Mind you, had he rolled me over and started tickling me like that I probably would have been squirming too. ‘It can be my way of saying thank you for looking after us during the storm.’
‘All right,’ nodded Will, ‘thanks. I’d like that. I’d like that very much.’
As we walked back to the cottage the sun began to burn through the mist and I knew that in just a few minutes the magic would evaporate along with the dew. It was really very lucky that Will had the easy life Matt had alluded to and happened to be passing by my door so early.
‘So,’ I asked, ‘what were you doing up at this ungodly hour, Will?’
‘Oh I had an—’
‘Don’t tell me,’ I cut in, guessing what he was about to say from conversations I’d had with Mags about his seemingly never-ending early starts and late finishes, ‘an emergency?’
‘Yep,’ he sighed. ‘Skylark Farm this morning, but nothing too serious. Nothing that made me break the speed limit,’ he quickly added, no doubt noting the look of panic on my face.
‘It must have been a bit serious to call you out at this time,’ I stated.
Will didn’t expand on the details and I knew it wouldn’t be appropriate to push him.
‘You know,’ I said. ‘I can’t work you out.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I thought vets either worked with small animals, pets and the like, or large, farm animals and so on, but you seem to do a bit of everything.’
‘There’s a certain amount of crossover in the role these days and mine is mostly down to my time in the army,’ he explained as easily as if we chatted about his former career all the time. ‘You were expected to treat anything and everything in a war zone. I had to operate on a camel once,’ he said with a laugh.
‘You did not,’ I said, giving him a nudge on the assumption that he was teasing.
‘Bloody did,’ he chuckled. ‘It was a hell of a beast; stubborn as a mule and as strong as a bull elephant. It took six of us to manhandle it so I could sedate it.’
I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but it made a funny story.
Back at the cottage I was desperate to carry on the conversation. I wanted to know all about his experiences as an army vet and soldier. I’d been told he had left the armed forces ‘under a cloud’, but I just couldn’t see it. Despite my best efforts, however, Will expertly steered the chat back to ground he was more comfortable with and for the moment the opportunity to probe deeper was denied me.
‘I’m afraid I can only offer you cereal, toast and fruit,’ I apologised, as I peered into the depths of the much-depleted fridge.
I was really going to have to do a proper shop soon. There was always the option of ordering online when the Wi-Fi was sorted, of course, but Gwen had always adhered to the ‘shop local’ ethos, even before it was fashionable, and I rather liked the idea of carrying her principle on and supporting the hard-working Wynbridge growers and producers.
‘That sounds good to me,’ said Will, sounding satisfied as he washed his hands at the sink. ‘Far better for my cholesterol than the belly-buster I had planned back at the barn.’
I closed the fridge and turned to look at him.
‘Belly-buster,’ I frowned. ‘You hardly look the type to indulge anything that would compromise your arteries.’
‘All grilled,’ he insisted, giving his six-pack an affectionate pat. ‘Nothing fried, and besides, if you’d had a slice of Skylark Farm bacon you’d know there was no way you could deny yourself the pleasure of the occasional cooked breakfast.’
‘I have sampled it,’ I admitted, filling the kettle for the first time that day.
‘Well, you know for yourself then,’ Will nodded enthusiastically, ‘and in that case, I’m surprised you haven’t kept stocked up. But it’s not just the bacon that’s top-notch; the sausages are sublime, especially the pork and apple.’
‘Incorporating apples from their own orchards, I suppose?’
‘Of course,’ said Will, ‘and all made using their own custom recipes.’
‘They really have got an amazing set-up there, haven’t they?’
‘Definitely,’ Will confirmed, ‘and from what people tell me, it’s all happened since Amber arrived on the scene.’
‘She’s quite a gal,’ I laughed.
‘Yes,’ agreed Will. ‘She is and she’s certainly turned around the fortunes of the farm, that’s for sure.’
Will sounded rather in awe of my new friend, but I could hardly blame him. Amber had arrived, seen what needed addressing and, with Jake and Annie’s help, made it all happen. For a moment I thought about telling Will about my dreams for the glamping site, but then realised there was no point.
If setting up a business here really was the non-starter Matt had suggested then there was nothing to be gained by getting further excited about it, but perhaps I should give David a ring and run it by him nonetheless, just to be absolutely sure. Not because I didn’t believe what Matt had told me, he had no reason to lie or put me off, but more because Amber had never mentioned any rules and regulations when we talked things through and, of course, David knew Gwen’s legacy and everything to do with Cuckoo Cottage like the back of his hand. He would be the person who could tell me for certain whether my dream was dead in the water before the first string of bunting was hung.
‘You all right?’ asked Will, gently touching my arm. ‘You look as if you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.’
Lost in my thoughts, I jumped as our skin touched.
‘I’m thinking about the car,’ I lied, fumbling to escape my true thoughts and landing on the second biggest concern on my horizon. ‘Mags said she would be coming to drop it off in the next few days.’
‘But that’s a good thing, surely?’
‘Yes and no,’ I admitted. ‘You know I’m terrified of getting behind the wheel again.’
‘Oh, please don’t keep worrying about that, Lottie,’ smiled Will. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine. We’ll take a few turns around the yard before venturing out on the open road.’
‘I wish I had your confidence,’ I admitted, feeling my knees weaken at the mere thought of handling a handbrake.
‘Just you wait and see,’ he said encouragingly. ‘Give it a couple of weeks and you’ll think nothing of ditching that bike and popping over to see
Amber and Jake whenever you feel like it.’
I did rather like the sound of that.
‘Seriously,’ he laughed as the first two slices of toast popped out of the toaster, filling the kitchen with the delicious smell of home. ‘That little custard-coloured van is just what you need, and it couldn’t be more you if it tried. You two were made for each other.’
‘I’m not sure what you mean by that,’ I laughed.
He didn’t elaborate.
‘And don’t be fretting about the paperwork because we can sort all that out on my laptop back at the barn, although you really could do with getting your internet access sorted soon.’
He was right, of course. Had I got it up and running already, I could have googled agricultural restrictions the second Matt mentioned them.
‘And I haven’t forgotten about your DIY lessons either,’ Will carried on. ‘I need to teach you how to change a light bulb, don’t I?’
‘Oh, I’m not sure about dealing with light bulbs,’ I smiled, passing him the butter. ‘Don’t you think you should start me off with something really simple?’
I watched on as he then set about devouring two eggs which the girls had obligingly laid the day before, a bowl of muesli and a handful of raspberries then more toast, and after that, two doorsteps of bread and honey. Somehow he managed to wash it all down with about a gallon of tea and a good half a litre of orange juice. I certainly needed to restock the cupboards now.
‘So what did you really think of Grace?’ he asked when he finally pushed away the mountain of crockery he had used.
‘Well, there are no words, are there?’ I said truthfully. ‘Or none that I can think of to describe how truly stunning she is.’
Will smiled broadly and I knew I’d said the right thing, but I really meant it. She was incredible.
‘We were lucky with the light,’ he said. ‘Dawn and dusk are her prime hunting times obviously, unless the weather’s been rotten. We’ll try and spot her at sunset next time. I can’t wait for you to see how golden she looks against the backdrop of the setting sun with the gnats and shadows . . . ’