The Little Cottage on the Hill

by Emma Davies

  ‘No!’

  Trixie and Clara exchanged looks. ‘Protesting far too hard, I’d say…’

  ‘Definitely,’ confirmed Clara.

  ‘Although I would, given half the chance. He’s pretty nice to look at… smouldering dark eyes, tousled hair, and a bit of rough with the beard… just how I like them.’

  Maddie rolled her eyes. ‘Ladies, please.’ She still had one eye on the front window. ‘Shh, for goodness’ sake. He’s coming back.’

  ‘Right, well I don’t know whether that was good news or bad news,’ announced Seth, coming back into the kitchen. ‘The chap who dealt with the sale before has left the company, but they have a new man who’s a specialist in Victorian art. Rather surprisingly he knew Joy’s name, although under the name she painted of course – CJ Davenport – and he has declared that he’ll be very happy to give us an assessment on our picture’s authenticity.’

  He pulled a face. ‘Although, seeing as this was her house and the picture was rammed down the back of her dresser, I fail to see how it can have been painted by anyone else.’

  ‘Did he seem interested?’ asked Maddie.

  ‘Very,’ said Seth, frowning at her.

  ‘So, just to play the devil’s whatnot again,’ said Trixie, ‘did he mention how many gazillions it might be worth?’

  ‘No, Trixie, he didn’t, and before you ask, no I didn’t mention it either. Anyway, he’s coming on Friday, so we’ll just have to wait and see.’

  Friday was two days away. ‘So, what do we do now?’ asked Clara.

  ‘Well, Maddie and I still have hundreds of bloody spars to make, and I guess you two can just carry on as you were.’

  ‘That wasn’t exactly what I meant,’ she replied.

  ‘No, I know,’ he said, grinning. ‘But that’s the only answer you’re going to get.’

  Chapter 21

  Maddie looked up and smiled gratefully as Clara set down a cup of tea beside her. She’d been hard at it since dinnertime, working on their new website.

  ‘Ah, you’re a lifesaver,’ she said.

  Clara peered at the screen. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Coming together,’ she replied. ‘I know what I’m doing, for most of it anyway, but it’s time-consuming getting the detail right.’ She sat back slightly so that Clara could see better. ‘What do you think? It was the design that took the longest amount of time.’

  ‘May I?’ Clara said, pulling up a seat and sitting down. ‘That’s amazing, how did you do that?’

  She was looking at the home page which Maddie was just finishing off. The background to the page was designed to resemble one of the seed catalogues that they had been looking at previously, with the border of the page a beautiful riot of pansies, sweet peas, nasturtiums and hollyhocks, all in a fabulous vintage style. Superimposed over this was a gilded picture frame, the ‘picture’ itself featuring the title Joy’s Acre in a glorious swirling Victoriana font, together with details and links to the other pages. These would hold information about Joy’s Acre itself, the individual cottages, booking forms and the like.

  ‘They’re just stock photos,’ Maddie replied. ‘But there’s so many of them, you can spend days looking through them all to pick the perfect one.’ She grinned. ‘And then just when you settle on one, you think, I’ll just check a few more to be on the safe side, and before you know it another couple of hours have gone.’

  ‘Well, those look perfect.’

  ‘Do you think so…?’ Maddie tilted her head, looking at the screen from a different angle. ‘I think it works.’

  ‘I love how it tells the story without even trying. It’s captured the essence of what we are here brilliantly, and using the picture frame is inspired.’

  ‘Yeah, well let’s just hope it inspires truck loads of people to want to come here, and not just artists.’

  Clara gave her a warm smile. ‘I’m sure it will. Visually, it’s about as appealing as you can get, and so different from the run-of-the-mill holiday cottage sites.’ She stared at the screen again, pausing for a moment. ‘How are things looking?’ she asked. Her manner was casual enough, but Maddie wasn’t fooled.

  She pulled a folder that was sitting on the edge of the desk closer to her.

  ‘Honestly?’ she said. ‘Not great. There were still quite a few contractors that needed to be paid off for work already done, and even with taking over the painting etcetera ourselves, there are things we just simply need to pay for. Sanitary wear, a new kitchen, carpets… even with everything we save on recycling furniture and decorations, there’s still a huge list.’

  ‘So have we run out of money, or are we still limping along?’

  There was no point in hiding the truth, Clara was too much of a pragmatist for that. When it came down to it, Maddie knew she would much rather hear the truth.

  ‘The pot’s virtually empty,’ she said. ‘Which means that while we might make it to the finish line, it will only be because we’ve cut so many corners the house will no longer look square. I love what we’re doing, Clara, you know that. It feels absolutely the right approach for the cottage and it will look stunning. Bottom line though? If people are going to part with good money to come and stay here they will want certain things to be in place, and of a sufficiently high standard. If they’re not, we’ll be crucified.’

  Clara nodded. ‘And we’ll have nothing left in reserve to carry on work on the other cottages or the barn,’ she said.

  Maddie gave no reply; she didn’t need to.

  ‘Today’s news couldn’t have come at a better time then?’

  She groaned. This was something she really didn’t want to have to think about, and sitting in the office, out of the way of everybody else, had almost allowed that to happen. Almost, but not quite. Besides, if anyone could spot what Maddie was thinking without her having to say anything, it was Clara.

  She wasn’t the only one who had held her breath the whole time the expert from the auctioneers was with them. Earlier that afternoon, the chap had been seated at the table, a cup of their best coffee put in front of him and the picture placed reverently on the table. All the while, four people hung on his every word.

  There was never any doubt in Maddie’s mind that he would declare the painting to be an authentic CJ Davenport. What made her more anxious than she could say was the value he was prepared to place on it. This was crucial to her plan. Of course, she had to look interested, but not unduly so; delighted to have found one of Joy’s paintings, but in a totally non-materialistic way, and at the same time supportive of Seth’s plan to hang the painting straight on the hallway wall beside Joy’s other picture.

  When the valuation had come, she’d had to clench her fist under the table to keep from shouting out. Of course, there were no guarantees. If the painting ever came to sale, the auctioneer’s job would be to try and raise the price as high as possible, and while on the one hand that was exactly what Maddie wanted, on the other it wouldn’t work in her favour at all. The question was, should she tell Clara, or not?

  ‘Do you think it’s come at a good time?’ she asked, batting the ball very firmly back into Clara’s court.

  A stern finger was waggled at her. ‘Oh, no you don’t,’ said Clara. ‘I asked first. So, I’ll repeat the question. Given the opportunity that has now presented itself to us, and taking Seth’s opinion out of this for the moment, do we need to sell the painting?’

  Maddie took in a deep breath. ‘Yes,’ she said sadly. ‘But you can’t remove Seth’s opinion from the equation, because it’s a huge issue. He’s invested such an enormous amount in Joy’s Acre, physically and emotionally, that this would be a huge blow to him. He sees this as confirmation from Joy herself that we’re doing the right thing.’

  ‘I know,’ nodded Clara. ‘But he’s not stupid. Given the choice of Joy’s Acre or no Joy’s Acre, even he would compromise his principles.’

  ‘He might have to,’ replied Maddie. ‘Getting him to accept that, though, is an ent
irely different matter.’

  Clara smiled suddenly. ‘You’re just going to have to sleep with him, you know. Soften him up a bit – all for a good cause though, obviously.’

  Maddie, who had just taken a sip of her tea, nearly spat it out across the desk.

  ‘Oh, will I now? Honestly Clara, say what’s on your mind why don’t you. Plus, he’s my boss, in case you hadn’t forgotten.’

  She giggled. ‘Just a thought… although, like I said before, you were looking very close the other day in the garden. Have things, er, developed in any way?’

  ‘No, they have not!’

  It was an automatic protest, but the truth of it was that Maddie had been a little disappointed. Seth and she had duly gone back outside on the day they found the painting and had indeed carried on making the spars for Tom, but, despite the fact that they took up their original positions on the bench, there had been no return to the previous topic of conversation. In fact, anything and everything but. Whatever the moment was, it had gone. She had harboured thoughts that perhaps the opportunity might present itself again, but it hadn’t and now, knowing what she did, and what her plan would entail, there was a very real risk that Seth would never want to speak to her again, let alone sleep with her.

  There was only one way she was ever going to know if her plan was a good one.

  ‘Can we just forget about my non-relationship with Seth for a minute. I’ve had an idea about the painting and, if I’m right, I think it might solve all our problems. The trouble is, I will probably need your help, and if you agree to it, life’s going to get very tough for a while.’

  * * *

  Maddie sat and stared at the computer for a few moments after Clara had gone, slowly sipping her tea until it was finished. She was glad to have Clara’s support, but that still didn’t alter the fact that somebody needed to speak to Seth about selling the painting, and soon. Despite Clara’s protestations it was also clear to Maddie that she was the obvious person for the job. She had all the facts and figures at her disposal and it was probable that Seth would be more likely to listen to logic than emotion, at least she hoped so…

  She saved her work on the website, logged off from the computer and, collecting her mug, rose to return to the kitchen where she was hoping to find Seth. No time like the present.

  He was sitting reading at the table as she entered the room, or rather perusing a brochure on kitchen fittings, but at least when he looked up he was smiling.

  ‘How’s it going?’ he asked.

  Maddie crossed to the sink where she began to rinse her mug. ‘Yeah, good thanks. Well I’ve had Clara’s seal of approval anyway, but actually I’m pleased with how the site’s turning out. I think it will do the trick.’

  Seth closed the brochure. ‘Shall I come have a look?’

  ‘Oh.’ She wasn’t expecting that. ‘I’ve logged off now,’ she replied. ‘Never mind, I can show you another day. It’s not finished yet anyway, I’ve just been working on the overall design, but now that I’m happy with it I can start to add in the detail. And more importantly get the booking form on and work on optimising the site through different search engines as soon as possible.’

  ‘Hmm, we’re going to need it.’ He sounded somewhat absentminded, but there was no mistaking the seriousness of his words. His attention had been drawn back down to the catalogue momentarily, but then he looked back up at her, pulling a face. ‘In fact I wondered whether you were coming in here to tell me we need to sell the painting, you looked so serious when you arrived.’

  Maddie fought to keep her face under control as Seth kept his eyes firmly on hers. She knew she probably wasn’t going to get to pick the perfect opportunity to say exactly that, but she had hoped nonetheless for it to be as non confrontational as possible.

  ‘Ah… I see I got it right after all. But then I already knew how you were thinking. It was pretty obvious considering the expression you had on your face the whole time the auctioneer was here.’

  ‘It was not! What expression did I have on?’ She could feel the heat rising up her neck. ‘That’s not fair, Seth. Why else were we all listening to what he had to say? So that we could consider our options, that’s all. And that’s exactly what we should be doing. Not only is it sensible—’

  ‘So you do agree that it should be sold then?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘Did you need to?’ His look was not far off a sneer. ‘I’m not stupid, Maddie. I know you have a spreadsheet that can tell you just how empty the coffers are, but I have one of my own, up here.’ He tapped the side of his head. ‘I can do the maths too.’

  ‘Then why are you getting angry with me?’

  He sighed. ‘I’m not, not really… I’m just disappointed that after all the plans we made and how right everything feels, and we get the biggest confirmation that there is from Joy herself no less, and then almost within hours we’re prepared to cash it in seemingly without another thought.’

  Maddie could feel her frustration rising. ‘But perhaps you’re looking at it from the wrong point of view. You’re seeing our discovery of Joy’s painting as a good luck omen, one we should keep with us, but given everything we feel about her, what if she’s provided for us right at the very moment we need it most? Doesn’t that make sense too?’

  ‘Oh, very convenient…’

  ‘No, just as plausible a reason as you’re suggesting.’

  They were practically glaring at each other.

  ‘So I’m just being stupidly sentimental, am I?’

  Seth looked tired and somewhat defeated, and Maddie would have loved to put her arms around him and tell him everything was fine, but despite what his words were doing to her insides she knew that wasn’t the answer. She had to do what was right for Joy’s Acre.

  ‘You’re being sentimental about a painting, when what you should be being sentimental about is Joy’s Acre, the whole of it. That’s your choice, Seth, I can’t make it any clearer. It’s one or the other, you can’t have both.’

  His head dropped to his chest as he inhaled a huge breath.

  ‘And you know I’m right…’

  ‘Fine.’ He breathed out. ‘We’ll sell the painting.’ His voice was no more than a whisper.

  Chapter 22

  Tom was his usual cheerful self, but it didn’t make up for the fact that Seth was ignoring her at every opportunity. He pretended not to of course; he was civil and to outward appearances it was business as usual, but none of this fooled Maddie. He no longer stayed to chat with her if she was washing up; more often than not he left the room if she entered it, claiming he had to get on with something; or, he simply found ways to be elsewhere when there was something to discuss, saying that he would leave any decision to her superior judgement.

  The irony of this last statement wasn’t lost on her, but, in a way, it was also true. Seth did accept what he had been told. He understood their financial situation fully and, given the options, he had agreed that the only possible and logical way forward was to sell Joy’s painting. Except that somehow, it seemed however hard he tried, he couldn’t overcome his disappointment that it was Maddie who had been the one to persuade him this was their only course of action. They had bonded over their shared love for Joy’s Acre, but now it was as if she had revealed herself to be nothing more than a business woman looking for a fast buck. It was no surprise to her that he thought this way, but it still hurt.

  Maddie adjusted her grip on the tray she was carrying. This was the second pot of tea that she had brought out to Seth and Tom today, along with some fresh brownies that Trixie had made, and yet, what would hopefully be a day for celebration, was, for her at least, tempered by Seth’s attitude towards her. In all likelihood the roof would be finished today and all along this had been the signal that they were on the final stretch, the home straight; a sign that they were almost ready for business. But her excitement level was far below where it should have been, and it saddened her.

  ‘Tea�
�s up!’ she yelled as she neared the cottage. ‘And more cake!’

  It had been somewhat of a running joke that since Trixie moved in they seemed to be constantly devouring huge chunks of cake, but to be honest, some days it was all they seemed to live off until their evening meal. Not perhaps the healthiest of lifestyles, but physical exercise was in plentiful supply too, as a catalogue of aching and bruised limbs would testify.

  Tom immediately shimmied down the ladder, wiping his hand across his brow as he reached the bottom.

  ‘Blimey, it’s warm up there today,’ he said, coming forward. ‘Might have to take my top off soon.’ He winked at her.

  ‘You’ll scare the birds away, Tom,’ she replied, handing him a mug. She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at the roof, where Seth was still working away. ‘Is he coming, do you think?’

  Tom put two fingers in his mouth and gave a sharp whistle. ‘Oi, guv’nor,’ he shouted. ‘Get your backside down here for a drink. I don’t want you keeling over on me, not when we’re this close.’

  ‘Are you really going to finish today?’ she asked while they were waiting.

  ‘I reckon so,’ Tom replied. ‘Wasn’t sure we would, but then we’ve had such a run of good weather, and Seth’s been like a man on a mission, so…’

  She looked away at the slight inflection in his voice and pretended to be studying the thatch. Whatever Tom had noticed was not something she was prepared to discuss; she really didn’t want to know what Seth had been saying about her. Joy’s painting had been included in an auction that would take place in two days’ time, and then it would all be over. Until that happened she would bide her time.

  ‘It looks amazing, Tom,’ she said. ‘And to think that just a few weeks ago I thought thatch was a waste of time. I feel ashamed to say it, but I can’t believe how naive I was. Now I know the skill and work that goes into it.’