by Rebecca Pugh
‘Let’s go.’ Esme nodded her head towards the lounge and they disappeared beneath the wide wooden archway into the first room on their to-do list.
***
After walking the entirety of Bluebell House, scanning each of the rooms with intense scrutiny, the two women decided that it was time for a break. Jessica made them both a coffee and they carried the steaming cups out onto the back porch. They took a seat and sipped quietly. It was so peaceful. There was no noisy traffic, no throngs of people rushing down the pavements while on their lunch breaks or to get to work. Jessica breathed in the fresh air, the scent of a late spring day surrounding her.
‘It’s going to be a lot of work,’ she said eventually to Esme. She looked down into her coffee cup and felt her stomach roll at the sheer amount of effort that she now knew lay ahead.
‘It is,’ Esme agreed, ‘but you can’t let the idea of something being hard work put you off.’ Esme shrugged as if it were simple. ‘Besides, you have me to help you, and young Rueben over there.’ She nodded towards the far end of the garden.
Jessica followed the direction of Esme’s nod with surprise and, sure enough, there was Rueben, stepping out of a medium-sized, wooden shed, his conker-brown hair messy. He looked delicious, even more so when she realised he was topless, bare chest on show for all to see. It was obviously very physical work, whatever it was that he had been up to in the shed.
‘Afternoon, ladies!’ he called, using the t-shirt that was draped over his shoulder to swipe at the sweat glistening on his forehead. Rueben began to make his way towards them. Ripped jeans hung low on his hips. His torso looked slick and toned, the sun dappling his muscles magnificently.
Jessica couldn’t deny that the sight of him lifted her heart somewhat. She also couldn’t deny that seeing him topless had kicked her heart rate up a notch. As he continued to make progress across the grass towards them, she couldn’t stop herself from eyeing his body with keen interest. She noted the way his jeans clung to his thighs, the way his arms looked so capable and strong. Rueben’s eyes caught hers and he held eye contact until he flopped down into the only remaining garden chair opposite her.
‘Rueben,’ Esme sang cheerfully, ‘how lovely to see you. Have you been working on the garden today?’ She leant forward to receive a kiss on the cheek.
‘I have. I’ve been here since just gone seven this morning.’ He stretched his arms above his head and Jessica sneaked a peek at his chest, gloriously defined and damp. God, he looked divine. She felt her cheeks reddening slightly so hid her face behind the coffee cup, attempting to take a sip only to find that it was empty. She closed her eyes and forced herself to get a grip.
‘What about you two? What brings you up here?’ His dazzling green eyes turned to Jessica. He linked his hands and placed them behind his head, leaning back in the chair. His long body stretched out and he accidentally touched her shoe with his own. Jessica moved her foot away and cleared her throat.
‘We’ve been having a look around Bluebell House,’ Esme informed him as she took a sip of her drink, oblivious to the game of footsy beneath the table ‘Seeing what’s what. You know.’
He nodded, his eyes slipping back to Jessica. ‘And what do you think?’
She’d been in a strange trance ever since he’d sat down and was finding it hard to form a reply to his question. She watched him lick his lips as he stared at her. Those lips… ‘Jess?’ he prompted.
‘Oh. Oh right, sorry. I think this heat’s getting to me.’ She flapped at her face, like that would do any good. She’d bet that any woman would do the same with a man like him sat opposite, though. She couldn’t be the only one. ‘It’s like it hasn’t changed a bit since I’ve been gone,’ she said. ‘Everything still looks exactly the same. It’s actually quite scary when I think about it. It’s as if time stopped while I was away, as ridiculous as that sounds.’
Esme nodded. ‘Are you any closer to making a decision, Jessica? About what you want to do with the house? Now that you’ve seen it, what do you think?’
Rueben watched her closely. Esme cocked her head to the side as she waited, too. Jessica swallowed, feeling the pressure as she was watched by them both.
She couldn’t imagine herself living permanently in Bluebell House or in Bluebell Hill itself. She’d miss her job too much. She’d miss Sarah, too. She’d built up her life in London and was utterly in love with it, every single aspect of it. She couldn’t just drop all of that because of Bluebell House, no matter how pretty and charming it was. She’d been desperate to escape when she’d been eighteen and wasn’t ashamed to admit that she had loved every second of being away from Bluebell Hill and the house where she’d grown up. Why on earth would she give it all up just to return ten years down the line? It was peaceful and Bluebell Hill was a gorgeous place to live, she couldn’t deny that. It just wasn’t for her. Bluebell House held too many bad memories, memories of her former self; a desperate, angry, bitter person. The rooms held so much more for her than their furniture. There were feelings, emotions, things she couldn’t forget, that hung in the darkest corners of the house like ghosts. No. London was where she was supposed to be. London was where her life was now. London was her home. Not Bluebell House or Bluebell Hill. She hadn’t worked hard to build herself a new life for it only to come tumbling down. There was no way she would do that, not even if someone paid her. She’d only stepped back inside that very day, taken a look around the empty, joyless rooms, and that was all that she’d needed to make her decision. As soon as she’d opened the front door and stepped over the threshold, every memory, every feeling from her past had come flooding back. Her mind had been made up before she’d even realised it. Her decision was that she didn’t want Bluebell House, nor any of the shadows that lay within it. She wanted to be rid of it. She wanted it to be somebody else’s responsibility. She wanted the sheer weight of it completely off her shoulders. Bluebell House had never been her home. She’d known it all along. Yes, she’d spent the formative years of her life there but even then, she’d felt detached, like a stranger in her own home, which was exactly how she felt now almost ten years down the line. Some things would never change.
‘I don’t believe Bluebell House was ever mine to keep, Esme,’ Jessica said firmly. ‘I think it’s best that I pass it onto a new family. That’s my decision. I’m going to sell Bluebell House.’
Esme placed her coffee cup down. She was smiling but Jessica could see that the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘We’d better get in touch with an estate agent then, dear. Get Bluebell House put on the market as soon as possible, ready for potential viewers and buyers. The sooner we get the ball rolling, the better for everyone involved.’
And Jessica couldn’t have agreed more.
Chapter Five
The next morning, Jessica was once again back at Bluebell House, only this time with her suitcase trailing behind her. Esme had suggested spending the next couple of weeks at Bluebell House. ‘At least that way you won’t have to keep coming backwards and forwards between here and there.’
Although the idea of staying in Bluebell House unsettled her, Jessica couldn’t deny that Esme had a point. She yawned as she and Esme crunched across the gravel. ‘Thinking of all the work that lies ahead makes me want to crawl back to bed,’ she groaned as she looked up at it looming before them. ‘Can I do that?’
Esme chuckled but shook her head. ‘Sadly not, Jessica. The quicker we get started with the packing, the faster it will be finished. The early bird catches the worm, dear!’
She winced at Esme’s cheeriness. It was way too early in the morning for such a happy, loud voice, but she couldn’t deny that Esme’s presence helped her in more ways than one. Truth be told, Esme was exactly what she needed. Someone to motivate and push her. Especially as she’d contacted an estate agent the night before. She’d been put through to a chirpy woman called Deb who was excited to see the house ‘as soon as possible’.
‘Can we at least have a cof
fee before we begin?’ She tugged the suitcase up the porch steps, unlocked the door and stepped into the hall. Parking the suitcase beside the staircase, she headed straight for the kitchen and shrieked when she smacked into Rueben’s chest.
‘My GOD!’ she cried, slapping a hand to her mouth. Esme barrelled into the back of her and squeaked in surprise.
‘Rueben, what are you doing here?’ Jessica asked once she felt able to talk and had regained her breath. Once she had gotten over her initial shock and the zap of desire of being so close to him had diminished, she glanced behind Rueben. ‘What’s all this?’ She took a few steps further into the kitchen, eyeing the white plastic bags of food spread out across the countertops. ‘You went shopping?’
Rueben grinned as he shrugged in reply. ‘Well, you couldn’t stay here with no food, could you?’ He turned back to the open fridge door and placed a lettuce inside, followed by a pack of tomatoes and a stick of cucumber. ‘You would have starved to death. You have no transport either so it was the least I could do. And before you thank me, trust me, it was my pleasure.’
Jessica stared at his back then looked at Esme, who was also grinning at him.
‘Oh, Rueben. You are wonderful!’ Esme exclaimed, watching him with delight and performing a little dance on the spot. ‘Isn’t he wonderful, Jessica?’
He closed the fridge door and his eyes sought out Jessica. ‘I thought, too, that perhaps I could treat you to some of my cooking tonight? You know, once you’re finished with the house side of things. I know you’ll probably be exhausted seeing as there’s so much to do, but if you fancy it, then I don’t mind cooking for you at all. I’m actually not that bad, seeing as I learnt from the best.’ He winked playfully then rummaged around inside one of the bags.
‘That would be great,’ Jessica replied, feeling a tingle of pleasure oozing down her spine. ‘I’d love that, actually. Esme, what do you think? Are you up for a taste of Rueben’s home-cooking?’
‘Oh, no! Don’t worry about me dears, I’ll be seeing Jane tonight.’ Esme boiled the kettle and began gathering mugs for the coffee. ‘Besides, two young things like you don’t need me as a third wheel. I’ll only cramp your style.’ She let out a tinkle of a laugh as she grabbed the milk from the fridge.
Jessica frowned, not at all okay with Esme’s reply. She’d found the prospect of dinner with both of them pleasing but just herself and Rueben? She wasn’t so sure about that. She sneaked a glance at him, wondering what exactly his intentions were or if he had any at all. His eyes were on her as he leant up against the counters, arms folded across his broad chest, studying her intently. ‘But, Esme…’ She floundered, running a hand through her hair and trying to come up with some sort of excuse as to why she needed Esme there. There was definitely something between her and Rueben. She could feel it whenever they were around each other. A strange sort of chemistry that was completely new and exciting. She looked at him again only to find him watching her as he accepted the cup of coffee from Esme’s hand and blew on it, steam curling up from the rich brew.
‘There you go, Jessica dear. A nice, hot cup of coffee.’ Esme passed it over and sipped her own. ‘We’ll drink these and then get started, shall we?’ She smiled broadly, and glanced between the two of them, oblivious to the nerves that were racing around Jessica’s body, running through her veins like adrenaline. There it was again. The chemistry. Just looking at the man did funny things to her insides. His mouth was so appealing but it was ridiculous because never before had she found a mouth so distracting and pleasing to look at. She wondered what he was capable of with those lips, and those big, strong hands… Probably thoughts best kept for when she was alone, rather than in the kitchen with two people, one of those people being the man in question.
‘Oh, Rueben, I forgot to say, did you manage to bring those boxes over from your father’s farm shop?’ The sound of Esme’s voice broke the spell and, finally, Rueben’s eyes turned away from Jessica. She felt able to let out the breath she’d been holding now that his attention had shifted to Esme. Her shoulders dropped from being almost up near her ears as she’d returned his stare across the kitchen, intense and powerful. There was something about those eyes of his. Something that held her interest more than anything had before.
‘Yep, boxes are in the van. I’ll put the rest of this away and then start bringing them in. There’s loads. More than enough, hopefully.’
‘Excellent. We’re going to be needing plenty. And you, Rueben Greer, are a knight in shining armour.’
Esme’s off-hand comment fluttered around in Jessica’s mind like a trapped bird. Knight in shining armour? The thought definitely appealed but this wasn’t a fairy-tale. Although, she supposed she played the part of damsel in distress pretty well and the same could be said for Rueben playing the role of a hero. He’d definitely saved the day by getting the food in, and the rugged good looks didn’t go amiss.
***
The remainder of the day flew by as Jessica and Esme worked alongside each other in the lounge. Any of the items that were packed were separated into three categories. Keep. Throw away. Charity. The majority of the items were either discarded of or packed away for charity, neither of them coming across anything that she wanted to keep. Jessica, despite handling her parents’ belongings with care, noticed with a deep sadness that none of them held any sort of sentimental value to her and it was a horrible and slightly disturbing reality to come to terms with. Nothing that she picked up brought back fond memories, nothing reminded her of them in any way. Whenever she’d watched films involving this very thing happening, the people doing the packing had always shed a tear or two as they’d stared down longingly at whatever object it was that they held in their hands. But for Jessica, as she made progress, it wasn’t like that at all. Nothing struck her emotionally. It was as if she were dead inside, like the switch for her emotions was constantly flicked to ‘off’. Even the photographs that sat along the fireplace meant nothing to her, the people in them nameless strangers. She stared hard at the faces, trying desperately, scouring every fragment of her brain to remember them from some previous time in her life. She came up with nothing. No names, no placement, no relations. Just strangers.
When it came to her father’s desk which sat in the corner of the room, she tugged open the drawers one by one and found herself faced with all manner of certificates and paperwork.
‘Probably best to keep these,’ Esme said as she appeared behind Jessica, eyeing the documents carefully. ‘Just in case there’s anything important in there.’ Jessica nodded and handed them over, thankful for Esme’s presence. At least someone knew what they were doing even if it wasn’t herself.
She emptied the bookshelves of the medical textbooks that were lined up against each other in an orderly manner, placing them into the boxes marked for charity. She had no need for them, she knew nothing about the medical profession, but perhaps someone, somewhere, would benefit from them one day, maybe a medical student. Who knew where these belongings would end up?
When she reached the bottom and last shelf, she pulled off the remaining textbooks and noticed a thick, black photo album hidden between them. If she hadn’t have been paying close attention to every item that she came across, she probably would have missed it completely. ‘What’s this?’ she asked curiously, more to herself than to Esme who was humming over the other side of the room.
She sat back on her knees and placed the album onto her lap. It was quite heavy, heavier than it appeared to be. As she pulled open the cover, a puff of dust escaped, indicating how old the album was. She wondered how long it had been tucked away down there. She stared down at the old, grainy black and white photographs displayed behind the clear plastic coverings. Again, just like the photos above the fireplace, the faces that stared back at her as she flicked through meant nothing. They were people she’d never seen before or, if she had, she had no memory of them. This cycle continued as she flicked through the pages. It was a book of strange, nameless f
aces which could seem rather creepy if she thought about it for too long.
Eventually, she reached the end of the album. It was probably best, she decided as she turned her attention away, to keep the album tucked away somewhere safe, in case she ever needed it. About to add it to the ‘keep’ pile and thinking nothing more of it, a flurry of rectangular pieces of cardboard slipped out from between the very last pages and landed across the floor in front of her.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared at them for a couple of seconds. What on earth? She leant forward and gently scooped them up realising, as she did, that they were postcards. How curious. Very old postcards, she noted with interest as she felt the cracks in the cardboard surfaces of each of them. She flicked them all over, one by one, to study the images on the front. They were all images of Paris. One displayed the iconic Eiffel Tower, lit up on a dark night and a beacon against the night sky. Another displayed the bustling streets of Paris brought to life; bistro tables, tourists, a dog outside an open restaurant door, begging a chef for a spare sausage as he hung out of his establishment.
Flipping them back over, she noticed that the space where a message would usually have been written had been left blank except for a lonely letter ‘H’, and an address, with one kiss beneath it. Each postcard was exactly the same. No message, nothing except the lone ‘H’ and the kiss, with the address scrawled at the top. ‘Esme?’ she called, still staring at the postcards in her hands curiously, unable to take her eyes away from them.
When there came no reply, Jessica turned around on the floor only to find that Esme was no longer in the room. She must have gone to make coffee. She returned to the postcards, for some reason feeling slightly unnerved by them. Who was this ‘H’? Had she been a friend of her mother’s, she wondered? There was so much that she hadn’t known about her own parents. The postcards could have been sent from anyone, so why was her interest piqued so suddenly? Why was there no message? Who was ‘H’? Why did her eyes keep sliding back to that letter? And the kiss. Just another question that would have to remain unanswered, Jessica realised, as she slid the postcards back into the album and placed it into the keep box. How many did that make now, she wondered?