by Jenny Frame
Later that evening, Penny decided to go to bed early. She sat on the side of the bed and took out her large pillbox. Taking these meds three times a day was depressing. Every one she swallowed reminded her of her limitations, and her deep-seated fear. Fear was her constant companion. Would she wake up in the morning normally, or would she wake up fitting, and paralyzed with fear.
It wasn’t only at night. She had to fear every little thing she did and assess if it was safe or not, like using knives. If she had an attack while using a sharp chef’s knife, it could be dangerous, and so she was the only cook she knew that used a machine for chopping.
It angered her that she had to do these little things differently, but at the same time she wouldn’t let it beat her—Penny always found a way. The medications were the same—they were a symbol of her curse, as she called it as a child, a condition that she wouldn’t let beat her, and the medications allowed her some semblance of control over her life.
Penny snuggled under the duvet and Princess curled up at her side. She had spent the evening making plans for videos and writing some little scripts. She felt a twinge from her ankle and sighed. It had really kept her back today. She’d hoped to have all her equipment ready and prepared for shooting some film.
Her mobility had improved over the course of today, and she hoped that the anti-inflammatory pills the doctor had given her would enable her to get started tomorrow. Harry had called her this afternoon to ask if she needed anything, and she promised she would be okay and would try to see her and Bridget tomorrow.
She had to get out in the morning, or else she’d have everyone descend on her and try to be so helpful. Not that she was ungrateful, but it made her feel uneasy.
Penny was reminded of Quade. Why she had let her help, she didn’t know. It wasn’t something she would normally do. She stroked Princess’s head and sighed. “You like Quade, don’t you?”
Princess’s eyes popped opened and she looked around, apparently looking for Quade.
“She’s not here just now, poppet,” Penny said.
She thought about the video she had taken of Quade and wanted to see her again. The smile Quade had shown her was an image that stayed in her head all day, and she wanted to check if her memory was embellishing it or if it was really as she remembered.
Penny picked up her iPad and found countless notifications from her followers at something she had posted. She was used to a lot of online attention but something she had posted had obviously hit a nerve.
Her notifications took her straight to her Instagram account, and the picture of Quade she had posted earlier. Penny hadn’t said much about the picture or used Quade’s name. She just captioned it, Sexy Farmer teaching me to make fire.
The likes and comments were flying in. She scanned down the comments and some of them were downright naughty.
“Wow. The girls are going mad for your friend, Princess.”
Penny reached for her video camera that was sitting on her bedside table and started to play the video. She could see exactly why everyone was salivating over Quade. Quade was something that she didn’t think existed any more. An old school butch who was completely at ease with her butchness. Tough, strong, but—going by their interactions so far—kind and gentle.
Penny traced her finger over Quade’s chiselled face as she watched the video, and her stomach clenched with excitement. She quickly dropped the camera onto the bed and reminded herself that attraction was a waste of time.
Going out with the right people to book launches and parties was one thing, but the thought of anyone getting past her bedroom door worried her. Not to say she hadn’t had dreams about the perfect partner.
When she closed her eyes at night she imagined having someone to hold her, someone to make her feel safe when a frightening epileptic episode took over her body, but never in Penny’s wildest dreams had she ever imagined someone as good looking as Quade, with gorgeous eyes.
“I have to find the flaw,” Penny said as she put the camera back on her bedside table.
Whenever she met someone attractive, and interesting enough that she couldn’t forget them easily, she found a flaw that made a closer relationship impossible. It was always easy enough, but this time it might be more difficult. Quade was helpful, kind, forgiving, and gentle, as demonstrated by her kindness to Princess. Penny would find that flaw—she always did.
As she reached for her book, she saw the notifications on Quade’s picture still popping up on her iPad. “Sexy Farmer has set the internet alight, Princess,” Penny said.
She looked at Lady Chatterley’s Lover, and the image of Quade chopping wood yesterday burned in her mind, and her body.
“Get a grip, Pen.”
She put down her book and switched the light off quickly.
* * *
Quade was sitting at her computer desk in her office, which was really her spare bedroom. She was trying to order some farm supplies, but her ancient desktop was making everything more difficult as usual. She wasn’t the best with computers, and neither had her uncle been. They were forced to buy a computer when their suppliers went online, and this was the same computer she’d had since then.
“Bloody thing,” Quade snapped, as the curser on the computer spun. It usually worked in the end—it just took its own time—but it was frustrating.
Quade looked down at Dougal, who was lying by her feet, and said, “How about a snack?”
Dougal jumped up excitedly at the word snack. Maybe by the time they came back, her purchase would have actually gone through. She led Dougal down to the kitchen and spotted the muffins and dog biscuits Penny had given them.
Quade opened the dog biscuits and gave Dougal a handful. He started to snaffle them up straight away. Then she picked up the muffins with trepidation.
“I don’t know which I’d rather, Dougal. Yours or mine. No dairy, no gluten, no sugar, no anything?”
She opened the box and the sweet smell of blueberry hit her. “Hmm, they look the part but…” Quade brought the muffin to her lips. “Here goes, Dougal.”
She took a bite and was immediately surprised by the taste. It was sweet, with a light and fluffy texture. “How does she get it to taste nice without dairy and sugar? Penny must be a good cook.”
Dougal whined and raised his paw. His signal to beg for food. “Okay, here you go, pal.”
Quade tore some muffin off and handed it to Dougal, who swallowed it up in one gulp. “You can chew, you know.”
She got another few dog biscuits and took the muffin upstairs. Thankfully the computer had done its thing and completed her order. Quade gave Dougal the rest of the dog biscuits and set her muffin on the computer desk.
Quade had an urge to find out more about Penny. She didn’t normally use the computer for things like this, but she typed her name into the search engine. The computer made a sound like it was a plane taking off, and again the curser spun.
She sighed and sat back to eat her muffin while she waited. Quade had never met anyone like Penny. She looked as if she had a cook and a whole household staff, not that she cooked for herself. Quade chuckled, thinking of her in that unicorn onesie. It was both adorable and sexy at the same time—was that even possible? Perhaps for someone like Penelope Huntingdon-Stewart.
Quade enjoyed her last bite of muffin just in time for her search engine to return the results for Penny. She was astonished at the number of news stories, website links, and videos it returned. Her computer would take a week to play a video, so she clicked on Penny’s Wikipedia page.
She read through the history of the family, some of which she had learned at school, but when it got to her parents and siblings, she was astonished to learn about them.
“A serious, clever family,” Quade said.
Then she read about Penny’s background and the private school she went to. So posh.
She read on:
Penelope Huntingdon-Stewart, age twenty-seven, has built her brand of clean and intuitive eating fr
om a small weekly blog to one of the brightest and most successful British food brands in just a few years. Penny’s Kitchen products can now be seen in supermarkets up and down the country.
“What is intuitive eating?” Quade wondered.
In the last year she has suffered—
Just as she was about to get some information on Penny’s problems, the computer crashed and switched itself off.
Quade smacked the side of the old-style monitor. “Bloody thing. Ask it to do one more thing than order supplies, and it blows a gasket.”
She looked at her watch. “It’s well past our bedtime anyway. Let’s turn in, Dougal.”
Quade walked through to her bedroom and started to undress. As tired as she was, Quade felt a restlessness in her body, an energy that she hadn’t encountered before. Normally after a hard day’s work, she fell into bed and fell straight asleep. But tonight, as she set her alarm clock, she sensed that when she shut her eyes, she would see a beautiful girl in a unicorn onesie.
* * *
The next morning Penny’s ankle was slightly better, and she was going to venture out to her first day of country living. She wanted to get the vibe of village life before she started scripting her vlogs and making her cooking videos.
She stood in front of her full-length mirror and smoothed down her floral summer dress. She might be in the muddy country, but that wasn’t going to change her style. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant bun, with strands of hair hanging loosely to frame her face.
She was going to have to concede her high heels. There was no way she could walk in them with her ankle the way it was, so she decided today was the time to break out one fashion item she had planned for country living—wellington boots. Not just any wellington boots, but designer ones that had been matched with the outfits she had brought.
This first pair were highly polished pink boots with a floral pattern to match her dress. She slipped them on with some discomfort to her ankle and looked in the mirror. Penny smiled at her reflection.
“It’s certainly a fashion statement. What do you think, Princess?” Penny turned to her dog who was lying on the bed dressed in a pink floral sweater, similar to her dress design.
“You like it, poppet?”
Princess barked in response and Penny smiled. “I knew you would. Penny and Princess are going to make this village fabulous.”
She picked up the selfie stick from the bed to take a picture of them both and saw she was still getting notifications about Sexy Farmer. Quade. She wondered if she’d see more of her today and was slightly frightened by the fact that she was excited by the prospect.
“No, no. Don’t even think about it, Pen. Hunky farmers are best left in the imagination.”
She swiped the notifications away and picked up Princess. “Ready to smile, poppet?”
Penny made sure she got her whole outfit in the shot and clicked to take the picture. She edited and posted it quickly to Instagram, put on Princess’s little shoes, and made her way downstairs gingerly. Her ankle was painful, but she was determined it wasn’t going to hold her back. She had spent enough time being held back by her own body.
At the dining table downstairs, Penny put Princess into her handbag and checked that her small video camera was working okay, and that her phone was tucked beside Princess. Bridget had phoned this morning and asked if she would like to join her for tea with Harry and her wife at Axedale. She was looking forward to seeing Harry again, so she said she would meet Bridget at the church, and then Bridget could drive them the rest of the way. Her ankle wouldn’t cope with walking far.
Now with all her things together, she walked outside the door. She noticed a pile of small logs stacked by the side of the door, with a loaf of bread and a box of teabags, and a note.
Penny,
I thought you might need some more logs for your fires, and some essentials you might not have yet. The muffins were delicious, by the way. If you need any more logs, just give me a shout.
Penny let out an exasperated sigh. “Why does she have to be so bloody sweet? I need to find that flaw.”
* * *
Bridget stood outside the church gates and chuckled to herself as she watched Penny walking down the road towards her. Bridget had been a shock to the people of Axedale when she arrived. A woman vicar in a biker jacket was always going to cause a few ripples, but she doubted Axedale had ever seen anything like Penelope Huntingdon-Stewart.
Penny was the ultimate city girl, with her pink floral dress, and her dog in a designer outfit in a handbag, looking as if she went shopping all day and lunched with her friends at the best restaurants.
She looked adorable and sweet, and if there was a scale of femininity from one to ten, Penny would score twenty, but those who dismissed her as a bit of fluff or a bimbo were deceived. Under that fluffy pink exterior was an astute businesswoman.
As she got closer, Bridge could see that Penny was holding a selfie stick as she spoke into the camera. Starting work already, Penny.
Penny was much younger than her, and she hadn’t seen Penny for years, but she loved to follow her on social media. Penny was bright, funny, and self-deprecating. It was also fun to see glimpses of the society world in which she used to live before she found God and the church.
As Penny approached she put her camera in a side pocket of her bag and collapsed the selfie stick so it would fit in the bag.
“Bridge, hi,” Penny said with enthusiasm.
Bridge gave her a kiss on each cheek. “Hi, darling. I love the boots, by the way.”
Penny lifted the hem of her dress a little bit. “It’s my country look.”
“It’s so long since I’ve seen you,” Bridget said.
Penny smiled. “It was at Mummy and Daddy’s wedding anniversary, at Claridge’s.”
Bridge snapped her fingers. “That’s right. You were telling me about the YouTube channel you had set up, and look how far you’ve come since then—you successful businesswoman.”
Penny blushed and stroked Princess’s head. “Oh, you know, it’s gone quite well.”
“Quite well? Don’t be so modest”—Bridge looked down at Princess—“and this must be the famous Princess Baby Bear.”
“Yes. Say hi to Bridge, Princess,” Penny said.
Bridge ruffled her ears. “I feel like I know her already. I follow your Instagram account. The pictures you post of her are just adorable.”
“She is really the star of the show,” Penny said.
“Wonderful. Now shall we get going up to Axedale?” Bridge indicated to the church van parked at the side of the road.
“Yes, I can’t wait to see Harry again, and the woman who enticed her to settle down. I couldn’t believe that she was getting married when I heard about it.”
They got into the van, and Bridge started the engine. “You’ll realize why when you meet Annie. She and her daughter Riley are just adorable. Harry didn’t stand a chance. You’ll love her. She’s a fantastic cook.”
Penny had heard great things about Annie through her own mother, who was friends with Harry’s mother. Lady Dorothy, Harry’s mother, was full of praise for Annie and what she had done for their family.
Penny turned to smile at Bridge. “And what about you, Vicar? Getting hitched as well, I hear?”
Bridget’s face was wreathed in smiles. “Yes, well, civil partnership. The church doesn’t allow me to call it marriage, but to Finn and me, it’s a marriage.”
“Of course it is, bloody outdated church. And where is your dishy magician? I was hoping to meet her,” Penny said.
“She’s on tour for two weeks, then comes back home for the wedding. You will come, won’t you?” Bridge asked.
“I’d love to. You are so lucky—Finn is gorgeous,” Penny said.
Bridget laughed softly. “I know. Quite delicious.”
Penny chuckled to herself. Bridge said that as if thinking about eating a succulent piece of meat. Bridge had always come across to Penny as some
one very much in control of her life, and in touch with her sexual side. Of course, she had heard the rumours about Mistress Black, a persona Bridget had left behind before she entered the church. Or had she? The look on Bridge’s face while thinking about her partner Finn belied that.
Penny envied that ability of other people to throw themselves into sexual relationships, explore, have fun, and share that deep connection with a partner. The thought both tantalized and terrified her. Why did other people find it so easy, and she was paralyzed at the thought?
It was something that she had tried to address many times over the last few years, when a yearning for a partner grew and grew inside of her. No one would ever guess that Penny—the dynamic businesswoman, the social media star, who went out with the brightest and beautiful people—had a crippling fear of sexual intimacy.
People thought they knew every little part of her life, they thought every last detail of who Penny was, from sprained ankles to her favourite food, was shared online, but no one really knew the real Penny.
They drove through the gates of Axedale and Penny gasped. “This place is beautiful.”
“Wait till you see the house,” Bridge said.
* * *
As they drove along the road that led up to the house, Bridge slowed when they saw Quade and some of the other estate workers chopping a felled tree at the side of the road.
“Now there’s a sight to brighten up your day. Our very own rugged farmer,” Bridge said.
Why did she always have to be chopping wood? Penny thought as her stomach fluttered at the sight of Quade in jeans and tight T-shirt, swinging her axe.
Bridge beeped the horn, and Quade looked up. She gave them both the most dazzling smile and waved.
“Gorgeous, isn’t she?” Bridge prodded.
Instead of answering Penny said, “I thought she was a farmer?”
“She’s assistant estate manager. Harry employed some farm workers for her, so she could do both.”