by Rebecca Pugh
Esme agreed. ‘It was, wasn’t it? A beautiful send-off. Don’t you agree, Jessica?’
Jessica glanced at both of them. She felt slightly dizzy and not at all with it. ‘Yes, it was beautiful.’ And it had been. She wondered now, as they walked back through the village square, who the people were who had brought those flowers? She could have stepped forward to have a read of the cards, say a few words herself, but hadn’t felt able to. She didn’t feel like she had a right to do that. They may have been her parents but their relationship had been non-existent. It couldn’t suddenly change because they had passed away.
‘Do you fancy joining us for lunch, Rueben?’ Esme asked once they were nearing the cottage. The air was warm and the birds were singing happily. Jessica wished she could join in with them. She wished she had something to sing about. Instead, she angled her face towards the sun and allowed the rays to dance across her skin, to somehow help her in her hour of need. The clouds had only been fleeting and now, as she looked up, the sky was once again cloud free. A smooth blue was spread out above her like an ocean.
Rueben agreed to lunch after much persuasion from Esme. The old woman hurried back to the cottage and left Jessica and Rueben trailing behind. ‘Don’t rush, Jessica,’ she called.
Rueben laughed lightly at Esme’s retreating figure before growing quiet. They walked in silence, both of them unsure of what to say to the other. Firstly, they’d just attended her parents’ funeral which of course made conversation awkward and secondly, in Rueben’s mind, she was not supposed to be in Bluebell Hill but in Cornwall. She wished she hadn’t lied to him on the train. It would have been so much easier for her now if she had just told him the truth from the beginning. There was always the chance that their paths wouldn’t have crossed but things hadn’t quite worked out that way. Things very rarely worked out the way you wanted them to, she grumbled to herself.
‘So, Cornwall, huh?’ Rueben asked eventually. ‘Did you change your mind? Decide to stop off in Bluebell Hill instead?’ His voice was playful and he was obviously attempting to lighten the tone. She was grateful but it didn’t make anything better or easier.
She stared straight ahead as she tried to think of an appropriate reply. How awkward was this? ‘It’s a messy situation,’ she said in the end, hoping he wouldn’t try to pry any further into it. ‘In this instance, a lie was prettier than the truth. I wished I’d been going to Cornwall.’ She couldn’t have just blurted out that she was going back for her parents’ funeral when they’d met on the train. It would have stilted their conversation and destroyed the tone that she’d enjoyed sharing with him as they’d chatted during the journey. She’d enjoyed talking to him without the mention of a funeral and she’d chosen to keep it that way. No one could blame her, could they? Who knew what to say when someone mentioned a funeral? She certainly didn’t so she couldn’t have expected Rueben to continue with conversation after such a dark confession.
Rueben nodded, as if he understood. ‘I see. I guess Cornwall did seem more attractive given the circumstances.’ He smiled at her and she couldn’t help but return it. He had such a nice smile. ‘I had no idea they had a daughter. Your parents, I mean.’ He raised a single eyebrow in her direction. ‘I hope that didn’t sound rude.’
‘Not rude at all and like I said, messy situation.’ She shrugged it off but the weight of the situation didn’t shift from off her shoulders. ‘How did you know them?’ She turned to him, interested to know more.
‘I worked for them, actually,’ Rueben replied. ‘I tended the gardens at Bluebell House. That’s my thing, you see. Gardening. I love it. Especially Bluebell House’s gardens.’ He nodded towards something, and Jessica turned, surprised to spy the roof of Bluebell House just visible in the distance behind the overgrown hedges. ‘I was sad to hear of their death.’ He cleared his throat as if turning away from that particular road of conversation. ‘My parents and I moved to Bluebell Hill years ago. I love it here, just as much as my folks, I think. Which is odd because most twenty-something men prefer the wild life. You know, clubbing and pubbing it. Don’t they?’ He grinned at her. ‘The woods, the peace and quiet. It’s much more appealing to me than getting drunk.’ He looked at her. ‘What about you?’
She was surprised. Most men adored that type of lifestyle. How refreshing to meet a man with a different mind-set. Glancing up, she saw that Esme’s cottage was coming into view and just in time. She could avoid answering his question. She picked up the pace as they continued towards it, acutely aware of Rueben waiting patiently for her reply. Truthfully, she didn’t really want to speak about herself. The only people who really knew about her past were Sarah and Esme. Esme had lived it right beside her. Two people was more than enough to share secrets with. Rueben had no need to know about her past in Bluebell Hill but she was thankful for his company.
‘There’s not much to say about me,’ she offered eventually. ‘I live in London, I work for a publishing company as a marketing manager. I’m just back in Bluebell Hill for a little while to sort a few things out following the death of my parents. I won’t be here long. A fleeting visit really.’
‘I’m presuming you lived with your parents before you went to London? When you were little? Or...’ He trailed off, obviously hoping she’d fill in the gaps.
‘Or,’ she replied quickly, preferring that option to the one where she’d have to explain herself. ‘It’s complicated and you’d probably get confused with all of the crazy details. Plus, after this morning, I don’t feel like talking about it. I’m sure you understand.’ She was beginning to grow hot and bothered as she felt the weight of his curious stare but she refused to make eye contact so instead, stared straight ahead.
‘Okay. That’s fine.’ He held his hands up in defence, smiling easily behind them. ‘It’s none of my business, I know. But hey, you’re lucky you have Esme. She’s great, isn’t she?’ Rueben looked towards the cottage fondly and Jessica studied the side of his face as he did so. It looked like he had a soft spot for Esme, too. It warmed her heart to know that she wasn’t the only one who was fond of the woman.
She smiled and nodded in agreement as she reached the cottage and hurried up the path, eager to get inside and away from any further questions that Rueben might have. She was constantly aware of his presence behind her though. She couldn’t quite decide whether she liked it or not. Only time would tell. She pushed open the cottage door and left it open for Rueben.
***
During a lunch of salad in the cottage garden, bowls scattered across the iron table providing a selection of tasty food from new potatoes to crunchy carrot sticks, Jessica learnt that Rueben was a handyman and helpful gardener in Bluebell Hill. Esme complimented his skills and told Jessica of how the women in the village called him round not only to trim their hedges but to admire him up a set of ladders, too. Rueben shrugged it all off modestly, throwing a couple of handsome, amused grins Jessica’s way, to which she couldn’t help but giggle in return. Whenever Rueben smiled his green eyes lit up, appearing more vibrant somehow. It was hard not to look at his strong neck muscles when he threw his head back to laugh. Everything about the man was pleasing to look at, Jessica realised. Absolutely everything.
She found out that Rueben’s father owned a farm shop a couple of miles away from the village, selling eggs, hefty sacks of potatoes, carrots and radishes that he’d grown himself at his allotments. Rueben’s mother was an avid cook and no longer worked but spent her days in the kitchen of their small home that sat prettily on the outskirts of Bluebell Hill. ‘She’s happiest at home in the kitchen,’ Rueben had explained, smiling fondly as he spoke about her. ‘And she cooks the best food in the world, take it from me. I sometimes miss living at home just because of that fact. Thankfully, I don’t live too far away, just the next town over, so I still stop off there sometimes if I’m feeling peckish.’ He grinned cheekily, completely at ease with himself and with the company that he was sharing.
As he told them childhood
tales, Jessica became captivated by him, slowly forgetting about the emotional upheaval of the morning. His enthusiasm for gardening and Bluebell Hill itself, as well as going on morning runs and visiting his nieces and nephews, had Jessica sitting up a little straighter in her chair, laughing and smiling and willing him to carry on. His smile was infectious and she was eager to hear more about Rueben and his quiet life. Wanting to know more.
Eventually, once their plates were empty, conversation turned towards Bluebell House. When Rueben began to direct questions at Jessica in regards to it, she could feel herself retreating, not wanting to reveal too much, beginning to clam up like an oyster shell. She couldn’t help it. It was automatic. Any mention of her childhood home or her parents, and she felt her throat tightening, snatching away the ability to speak. She’d been having such a good time, too.
‘I guess Bluebell House has been left to you, Jessica?’ Rueben asked as the day began to wind down. The sky was softening as evening began to creep in. ‘It’s such a beautiful place. I’m still taking care of the gardens despite no one being there. I don’t like the thought of it all going to tatters. A garden like that deserves only the best love and care.’
‘You sound very fond it,’ Jessica commented as a look of pride passed over his handsome features.
‘Oh, I am,’ Rueben enthused. ‘Your parents were the first people to take me on when I decided to offer my gardening services in the village. They entrusted their gardens to my care and I couldn’t thank them enough. Thankfully, they were impressed with my work and told me I had a permanent place there if I wanted it. Once the village folk were aware that I was working there, they wanted my services too. Mind you, I didn’t see much of your parents after that first visit. I was only seventeen. I’d never known two people to be out of their home as much as they were. It was always empty inside, which I thought was a real shame. If it had been my home, I would have been there every day.’ He laughed. ‘I had a spare set of keys to let myself in case I ever needed anything but I rarely saw them besides the odd passing glimpse.’
Jessica knew that feeling only too well. Her parents had been the two most absent people she had ever known. ‘Yes, they were very busy, my parents,’ she said, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice. She cleared her throat quickly. ‘Still, I’m glad you love it so much and that you’re still taking care of the gardens. It’s nice to know someone cares about the place despite the owners no longer being around.’ She studied the table.
‘Do you know what you’ll do with it? Bluebell House, I mean?’ Rueben couldn’t seem to meet her eyes as he asked the question and, for the first time, Jessica thought she saw sadness in his own. He really did love that house, she realised, watching his face carefully.
She chewed her lip and looked at Esme for some sort of support, but then finally, she shrugged. ‘I have no idea,’ she answered truthfully. ‘I mean, what am I supposed to do with it? It’s huge, way too big for me. And it’s never really felt like home.’ She allowed that confession to hang in the silent air for a few moments, wanting to take it back as soon as the words had left her mouth.
‘You don’t need to decide right now, dear,’ Esme said briskly, rising from her seat and gathering the empty glasses. ‘You have more than enough time to reach a sensible decision. Anyway, let’s get this lot inside.’
Rueben stood immediately and went to grab some of the empty bowls but Esme shooed him away. ‘And that would be my cue to leave.’ He planted a gentle kiss on Esme’s cheek as he thanked her for the lunch and then turned to Jessica. ‘It’s been lovely to meet you,’ he said, smiling warmly. ‘I hope we meet again soon. I’m sure we will.’ He held eye contact with her for a second longer before turning away and leaving through a gate at the side of the cottage.
‘Such a lovely boy, isn’t he?’ Esme cooed after his departure.
Jessica smiled as she followed Esme inside. She took the plates and cups from the woman’s arms and deposited them in the kitchen sink. He is rather lovely, she thought to herself as Esme closed the back door and joined her to get started on the washing up. Rather lovely indeed.
Chapter Four
The following morning, during breakfast in the cosy kitchen, Esme addressed the subject of Bluebell House.
‘You understand that Bluebell House is now your responsibility, Jessica? It’s entirely up to you what you do with it. You can either, keep it for yourself and move in. You could rent it out. Or, you can pack it up, empty the rooms, and sell it on. I’m not going to force you in any direction because whichever you eventually decide to do, it’ll be a big decision to make. We also need to organise an estate agent for if you do decide to sell. Everything else has already been dealt with. There are no outstanding debts, nothing that needs to be addressed. The future of Bluebell House is within your hands.’
Jessica swallowed down a mouthful of warm porridge and surveyed Esme across the chunky wooden table between them. That was quite a lot to take in. She’d acquired Bluebell House. She took a moment to process her thoughts. ‘At the moment I’m leaning more towards the idea of selling it. Bluebell House doesn’t really appeal to me at all, Esme. I know it sounds awful, seeing as it was my parents’ home, and mine years ago, but I just can’t see any reason at all to keep it. I much prefer the idea of passing it on to someone else, someone who would actually want to live there.’
Esme nodded. ‘Like I said, it’s entirely up to you. If selling Bluebell House is what you want to do then that’s what you have to do, dear. I completely understand why you’d want that. It’s your decision to make. No one else can make it for you and I wouldn’t want anyone else to make it for you, either.’
Jessica nodded as she spooned another mound of porridge into her mouth. She didn’t feel capable of making decisions anymore. It was like she’d lost all control of her ability to make up her mind when normally she was brilliant at it. It seemed that when it came to matters of the heart she was still just a little girl.
‘We could always take a walk up there today and see what’s what?’ Esme offered as she rose from the table. ‘If you choose to sell then it’s probably best that you start packing it up as soon as you can. I know you have your job waiting for you back in London, as well as your friends, and there’s an awful lot of stuff in Bluebell House. It may take a while to fully empty it and get everything packed up.’
The thought of going back to Bluebell House filled Jessica with an unpleasantness in her stomach that curled its way around her gut and squeezed tightly. She knew that it was something that she had to do and Esme was right. She did need to get back to London. She wanted to get back. The quicker things in Bluebell Hill were dealt with, the better. ‘Yes,’ she said eventually. She nodded her head as Esme’s words sank in. ‘I think we should go and take a look at it. It’s been a while since I last stepped foot in there and I’d like to make a decision sooner rather than later. There really isn’t any point in dragging it out.’
‘Excellent. Well, I’m ready whenever you are, dear.’
***
After a quick shower and with her damp hair twisted atop her head in a messy bun, Jessica was walking up the lane towards Bluebell House with good old Esme by her side.
She was greeted by the sight of the white tiled roof of her former home first, with its impressive double chimney. As she and Esme drew closer, the entirety of Bluebell House appeared in front of them. Jessica paused on the edges of the gravel driveway, feeling slightly awe-struck by the sight of it so close.
‘Okay?’ Esme asked as she peered at Jessica’s face. The worry was clear to see. ‘Don’t be scared. I’m here so you won’t be alone.’
Jessica took a deep breath and nodded at Esme as they walked towards the house. It looked resplendent, basking in the soft sunshine that Bluebell Hill seemed to be graced with every day. Summer was fast approaching and despite it still being early morning, the heat was already thickening the air around them.
The wraparound porch of Bluebell House conj
ured images of big American family homes, full of laughing, happy children and adoring parents. These images in Jessica’s imagination only emphasised how lacking her own childhood had been in both aspects. Stepping into Bluebell House again was going to be hard but it was something that she needed to do.
They took the steps that led up to the porch. Jessica looked up to the top of the house and blinked. It was huge. She felt miniscule standing directly in front of it. She eyed the stained-glass window that was set charmingly within the dark wood of the front door. It was an image of the hill full of bluebells. The greens and the blues vivid and striking. She continued to stare at it, becoming lost in the beautiful creation.
‘Jessica?’ Esme whispered, nudging her slightly. ‘Dear, is everything—’
‘I’m fine,’ she choked out quickly. She took the key from Esme’s outstretched fingers and winced as the cold brass of it touched her skin. She turned back towards the door, slipped the key into the lock and, with a click, the door unlocked and she was able to push it open and step inside Bluebell House.
‘Gosh, this takes me back a bit,’ Esme murmured as she followed Jessica into the pristine hall.
The polished, cherry hardwood flooring shone, with not a scuff or a single mark to be seen. The hall stretched right the way to the back of the house. It was all very grand and shiny, so much so that you’d think no one had ever lived there.
Esme lingered beside the staircase, allowing Jessica space and time to glance around herself and to take it all in. It felt so strange to be back there after so much time had passed. Even stranger to know that it was now in her care. This huge, ridiculously expensive house was her responsibility. She gulped. What on earth was she supposed to do with it?
‘Right. Shall we take a look around and get an idea of what we’re dealing with?’ Her voice was business-like, brisk and straight to the point. Although it sounded alien to her own ears and probably to Esme’s too, she preferred it that way, rather than drenched with the emotion that she was feeling inside. She wouldn’t be bowled over by the memories that Bluebell House was infused with. She wouldn’t let them take her down. She was bigger now, stronger, and she had a job to do.