Summer at the Little Cottage on the Hill_An utterly uplifting holiday romance to escape with

by Emma Davies

  Maddie turned to smile at him. ‘I lied about the photos of your bum.’

  ‘I can see… Maddie, these are brilliant. Seriously, I love the angles you’ve used and the way you’ve focused in on the intricacy of the work. They're so different from anything you'd expect to find. And you're going to put all these on the Joy’s Acre website?’

  ‘Well yes, some of them. I want to show the story of how we came into being, how we’re more than just a group of holiday cottages. I want to develop our name into something that people remember.’

  This was not something that Tom had ever considered, even thought about, let alone allow himself to become excited by. But he could feel the flickerings of interest stirring within him.

  ‘Can you show me the site?’

  She clicked on another tab, and suddenly there it was. The colours sprang out from the screen; the homepage of Joy’s Acre, like a vintage painting in a frame, just as if Joy had painted it herself. He had seen the site when Maddie had first put it together, but he hadn't realised she was still working on it, and he felt a little ashamed that he hadn't even bothered to take a look at it again. He wondered whether anybody else had. He moved his hand to where hers lay over the mouse.

  ‘May I?’ he asked.

  She slid the mouse towards him, and for the next few moments he clicked from page to page, scrolling and scanning until he had taken in everything before him.

  ‘Have you shown this to anybody else? To Seth, or the girls?’

  She looked at him quizzically. ‘Well yes of course, you've all seen it.’

  ‘No, I mean recently. Since you've made all these changes.’

  ‘Well there's not really much to show, I’ve added a few bits, that's all.’

  Tom looked at the screen, and then back at Maddie. ‘A few bits? This isn't the same site you showed us all those weeks ago, it’s bloody brilliant! Where on earth did you get the idea for this?’

  ‘Tom, this is what I do for a living. Well, did do, before I came here.’

  ‘But it's like a scrapbook! It's like sitting down with a book on your lap, and a cup of tea, chatting to an old friend about everything you've been up to.’

  He clicked onto the Gardener’s Cottage page again. From the moment they had started work on it, Maddie had been taking photos, making little sketches, and scribbling down quotes from things people said. Somehow, she had laid them all out so that they looked like they were pinned onto pages in a notebook. Some of the pictures had even been made to look like they had curling bits of Sellotape across the corners; a tiny detail that brought the whole screen to life.

  It was their journey from beginning to end, sharing with anybody who cared to read it their thoughts and their hopes for the little cottage on the hill. By the time anyone had read to the end, there was no way they’d want to stay anywhere else, at which point there was a link to a booking form. It was all incredibly simple, but utterly brilliant.

  They were similar pages on the site for the gardens, showing Clara's beautiful planting with its array of flowers and vegetables, jostling side by side for space. Birds darted from seed head to seed head and butterflies sipped nectar from the colourful blooms. Pictures showed seedlings growing into small plants, being transplanted, growing into bigger plants, and finally becoming two burgeoning stems of cherry tomatoes. A further photograph showed those same tomatoes roasted with herbs, olive oil, and pepper, and served on the bruschetta which Trixie had fed them all for lunch one day. There were links too for recipes, and some tips for not only how to grow the vegetables successfully, but how to cook and serve them as well.

  Day in, day out, Tom had turned up for work, climbed his ladder to the roof and begun to work his magic with the straw that would soon become a new thatch. But even from his elevated viewpoint, he had somehow never seen the bigger picture, he had never truly understood what he was a part of, and what Maddie and Seth were trying to achieve. Looking at this website was a humbling experience and all the inspiration he would ever need.

  ‘Do you know something, Maddie? I think I'm a teeny little bit in love with you myself.’

  Maddie just grinned. ‘So, is that a “Yes please, Maddie, I’d love you to make me a website”?’

  ‘Are you sure you have the time? This must have taken you ages.’

  ‘Not really – once you have the theme and if you know what you're doing it doesn't need to take that long. You wouldn't need anything as complicated as the Joy’s Acre site anyway, so I can fit it in no problem. Jot down some basic information for me and then we can work through it together.’ She paused for just a moment, running her tongue across her lips and grinning cheekily. ‘I do just have a condition though…’

  ‘Go on…’

  Maddie pulled open a drawer in the desk and took out a largish book. ‘I got this from the local library,’ she explained. ‘And a little bird told me that you're a dab hand at making them, which is good because I'm going to need loads of them to decorate the new cottage.’ She grinned at him. ‘Do we have a deal?’

  Tom groaned. ‘How could I possibly refuse,’ he said, taking the book from her hands and looking at the elaborately woven corn doll on the cover.

  Chapter 10

  Tom fidgeted on the hard plastic seat. There wasn’t nearly enough space for his long legs between him and the row in front, but he knew it wasn’t this that was making him ill at ease. For goodness’ sake, why did he have to go and open his big mouth? No more had been said about Lily’s end-of-term concert and if he had just kept his mouth shut then everything would have been all right. Instead as he had passed Isobel in the garden this morning, floundering about for something to say, he had asked her if she’d given any more thought to coming along. It wasn’t as if he even wanted her to come. The concert would be fine, but then there was the whole conversational minefield of tea afterwards to be got through, when the whole subject of Kate’s boyfriend would inevitably come up. It would be hard enough on his own, without having Isobel there as well, someone he barely knew.

  And she was clearly having second thoughts about her decision to come. It had taken her an age to decide in the first place, and of course seeing her hesitation he’d felt stupidly duty bound to encourage her in case she took offence. Now, after suffering a near-silent journey to Lily’s school, Isobel was sitting bolt upright in her chair and had scarcely said a word. To make matters worse, although he had sent a quick text message to Kate asking if it was okay to bring Isobel along, she had jumped to entirely the wrong conclusion about their relationship. Things were getting more complicated by the minute.

  ‘I don't suppose you've ever done this before, have you?’ asked Tom. ‘Sat in the audience, I mean.’

  ‘Never. In fact, I don’t remember any of it.’ She was sitting looking around the room with an expression on her face that Tom couldn’t quite fathom. If he had to put a name to it though, he would say she looked scared. Her face was still turned away from his. ‘I know I came to concerts like this all the time, but I don’t recall playing in them, I only remember the ones…’ She stopped suddenly, her hand touching her throat. He could see a pulse beating underneath the delicate pale skin.

  ‘Well, I guess you were only little. I think I’d struggle to remember—’

  She turned to him then, an urgent expression on her face. ‘No, it’s not that, it’s…’ But once more she ground to a halt, whatever she wanted to say stuck in her throat. She looked around her again, up and down the row where they were sitting, bodies pressed up close on either side. ‘I’m sorry Tom, I—’

  Her words were cut off as the piercing whine of feedback blared out from a set of loudspeakers on either side of the stage. It was cut off just as quickly. A harassed-looking teacher appeared from the left, quickly climbed onto the stage and disappeared behind the curtain. An expectant hush fell over the audience.

  Tom leaned in towards Isobel, but the moment had passed. Her eyes were fixed ahead as she followed the movement of another member of staff
up onto the stage. He was aware of Kate’s voice on the other side of him.

  ‘That’s the Head,’ she whispered.

  He turned and smiled at her, nodding. The concert was about to begin.

  The chat in the room all but ceased, followed by a few final coughs and the rustle of clothing and paper as parents sought to get comfortable for the hour or so ahead. Next to Tom, Isobel sat like a coiled spring. Years of playing had given her perfect deportment, worthy of any Swiss finishing school. She never slouched, and usually her posture was relaxed and elegant. Today she looked stiff, her muscles taut and held ready – for what? Fight or flight? Tom looked away. He had a sudden unbearable desire to hold her hand.

  The head teacher was speaking now, welcoming them all, and Tom fixed a grin on his face as he studied the hand-drawn programme he held. First up was a recorder ensemble.

  Predictably, the recorders screeched and clashed their way through three minutes of tortured music, but the assembled hall still clapped enthusiastically at the end, hearts warmed by the beaming smiles of the children playing. To Tom it was an adorable mess of bad notes and good intentions; more importantly, as he looked around at the proud faces and broad smiles, he could see that the children playing were somebody’s sons and somebody’s daughters, and that was all that really mattered.

  He couldn’t help wondering how Isobel was feeling. His ear was naturally attuned to wrong notes and mistimings but Isobel had more music in her veins than blood. Her professional ear would be thinking about the overall sound, probably even the acoustics in the room, and every wrong note must be making her flinch. She had said she couldn’t remember playing in concerts like this, but something was making her uncomfortable, that much was obvious…

  After several more performances Tom realised that Lily was just about to walk on stage. He could see her waiting in the wings with two of her classmates, and he swung a glance at Kate, sitting on his left. She turned and gave him a beaming smile, holding up two crossed fingers for good luck. He realised that Isobel would possibly not recognise Lily, and was just leaning across to whisper that she was about to come on, when he saw that Isobel had been following the programme closely and was about to do the same. Their heads touched somewhere over Isobel's left shoulder and, for a moment, had anybody asked, he would have sworn that time was standing still.

  They both pulled away but not before he caught the corners of her lips lifting slightly. As Lily walked on stage, he heard a soft sigh catch in Isobel’s throat. It seemed as if they both stopped breathing after that, willing Lily to play her heart out and get it just right.

  As the final bar of music faded away, spontaneous applause erupted from around him, the loudest of all coming, quite rightly, from Kate. Isobel looked up, startled for a moment, catching Tom’s expression before scanning the faces of the people around her, and then, suddenly, her face creased into a broad grin and her hands crashed together as she clapped with enthusiasm.

  It wouldn't have mattered if every child had played appallingly. It would still have been the best concert that Tom had ever been to. He couldn’t contain his excitement as the crowds gathered at the end of the show.

  ‘You were just brilliant!’ he exclaimed, picking up Lily and giving her a huge bear hug. ‘And of course the best one there,’ he added. He laughed as Kate tried to poke him in the ribs. ‘What…? She was, I'm only telling the truth.’

  He turned to face Isobel, as she surreptitiously touched a finger to the corner of her eye. He gave her a quizzical look but she avoided his gaze, turning instead to his niece.

  ‘Well done, Lily,’ she said, ‘that was so good. Did you enjoy it?’ Lily nodded up and down several times. ‘Well then, that's absolutely the best thing. And the only thing that matters.’

  Lily struggled from Tom’s arms, and he watched her as she ran off to find her friends. The three of them stood awkwardly for a moment until Isobel came forward.

  ‘She did so well,’ she commented. ‘And it’s really hard to keep smiling when you’re playing the flute, but somehow she managed to do that and play the right notes. She looked like she was having a ball.’

  Kate groaned. ‘She’s been so excited that it’s all we’ve heard for weeks. I probably shouldn’t say this, especially to you, but I’m a little bit glad it’s all over. I mean, I’m thrilled that she loves it, but it’s rather wearing after a while.’ She smiled at Isobel. ‘Tom told me that you’re a violinist. I hope you don’t mind.’

  If she did, she didn’t show it. ‘Not at all… but I’m trying not to think like one today. Actually, it was lovely just listening to the kids. It was so unlike my experience of this kind of thing…’ She stopped, smiling shyly. ‘Well, that doesn’t really matter, but I think you’re right, by the way. If Lily continues to enjoy playing then that’s wonderful, and I think every child should have the experience if they’re able to, but there are so many other things that children need to be doing too. It’s good that you’re not all over it like a rash.’

  ‘Oh God.’ Kate shuddered. ‘Like those dreadful pushy parents you see on the television? I couldn’t stand that. There has to be a balance, doesn’t there? Although…’ She tilted her head at Isobel. ‘I guess you don’t get to be a great musician without commitment?’

  ‘True enough, but there’s commitment and then there’s obsession. There’s also the understanding that children perform better on a diet of encouragement and support rather than an unhealthy fixation with every little mistake.’

  Kate gave a nervous laugh, but she nodded. ‘Fortunately, I think the people who make those kind of programmes look for the most extreme examples they can find. Most parents are like me, proud, but we just want our kids to be happy at the end of the day, whatever they do.’

  Isobel’s hand lifted, a gesture Tom was beginning to recognise. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—’

  Kate touched her arm. ‘Don’t be daft, I know you didn’t, although I’ll tell you something for nothing, and no offence, Isobel, but I count myself eternally grateful that Lily didn’t want to learn the violin. I’ve seen some of the home videos of Tom as a child with his brother, and the noise was the most horrendous thing I’ve ever heard…’ She rolled her eyes for good measure.

  Tom let out the breath he was holding. ‘Oi!’ he said, trying to sound indignant. Bless you, Kate, he thought as the moment of tension dissolved. ‘I wasn’t that bad.’

  ‘No?’ She winked at Isobel. ‘He was, you know…’

  To his relief Isobel grinned too. ‘Well, I haven’t heard him play yet, so I’ve no idea whether he got any better or not.’

  ‘Haven’t you?’ She turned to Tom. ‘What, are you scared she’s going to think you’re rubbish?’ she teased. ‘Actually, his band is pretty good. You should go and listen to them play sometime. I’m surprised Tom hasn’t asked you.’

  It was inevitable, he supposed. Tom could see where the conversation had been going, but he was powerless to do anything about it. He shifted his weight onto the other foot. ‘I’m not sure Isobel’s all that keen on folk music, are you?’

  Before she could answer, Lily came running back over to them, swinging her school bag. ‘Mum, can I go back to Caitlin’s house… pleeaase? Her mum says it’s okay, and I can stay for tea.’

  Kate gave them an apologetic look. ‘Not today, sweetheart. Tom and Isobel are coming back to ours, remember. Perhaps you can go another day.’

  Lily’s face fell. ‘Oh, but Mum, Caitlin’s going to Australia tomorrow to see her granny, and she’ll be there nearly the whole of the holiday… If I don’t go today, then—’

  Tom took a step forward, giving Kate a reassuring look. ‘If it makes it any easier, we can come another day, one day in the holidays when you’ve got nothing else on.’

  Kate was in two minds, he could tell. Whether to stick to her guns or acknowledge this was one she could afford to let go. The parent’s eternal dilemma. But there was also another reason for her wanting to see them today. She l
owered her voice a little, angling her body away from Lily slightly.

  ‘It’s just that I thought we could have a chat, you know… about Adam?’

  ‘I know,’ he replied. ‘But, it’s honestly fine.’

  Now that he was faced with the possible choice of not having to stay for tea, Tom wasn’t entirely sure which option he preferred. He still hadn’t quite got to grips with how he felt about Adam, and if he was honest he was not at all comfortable with the idea that Kate thought he and Isobel were an item. He could see an awkward evening ahead of him.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure…’ said Kate, looking at her daughter, who was practically jumping up and down with excitement. Suddenly, her face cleared.

  ‘I tell you what,’ she said, smiling broadly. ‘How about we do this properly? Adam is away at the moment, but once he’s back, why don’t the five of us get together for a meal? I’d love you to meet him.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I know it’s a bit awkward, but hey, it’s got to happen sometime.’

  Tom’s heart sank. That really wasn’t what he had in mind. He daren’t even look at Isobel. He arranged his face into what he hoped was a suitably enthusiastic expression. This must be so hard for Kate, after all.

  ‘Well, yes, that’s a thought…’

  She nodded firmly. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘That’s settled then. I’ll contact you, shall I? Once I’ve fixed up a date.’

  He found himself agreeing. He did sneak a look at Isobel then, only to find that she was smiling too. He couldn’t tell whether it was genuine or not.

  Lily was tugging on Kate’s hand and Tom realised that the room was rapidly clearing. He bent down. ‘You have fun, Lily, and I’ll see you later, alligator.’

  She beamed and kissed his cheek. ‘In a while, crocodile… And thanks for coming, Uncle Tom!’

  Kate gave them an apologetic look. ‘I ought to go and have a word with Caitlin’s mum…’ she said, already being towed away.

  Tom waved her on. ‘Yes, sure, no problem. We can find our way out.’