by Liz Eeles
What the hell am I doing, trundling along an unmade road in the middle of nowhere? I’ve decided to do a quick U-turn and beat a hasty retreat, back to my attic bed, when I turn a corner and spot a handsome stone cottage ahead. Oh well, I’m here now.
Smoke is curling from the chimney although it’s warm today, and wild flowers are scattered across the fields to my left and right. A rabbit skitters across the track in front of me and disappears into the hedgerow, a flash of grey and white.
Luna said to go around the side of the house, and I drive carefully past huge wooden tubs of yellow and blue petunias. There’s a child’s bike dropped on the gravel and I manoeuvre around it. Luna must have grandchildren.
For a moment, after turning off the ignition, I rest my head against the steering wheel. A week ago I was happily married – or so I thought – and living in the middle of bustling Oxford. Now I’m contemplating moving in with a stranger in the middle of nowhere. I’ve gone a bit mad.
A sudden knock on my window makes me jump.
‘Are you coming in then?’ calls Luna, her face looming at me and her voice muffled through the glass. ‘Watch out for the chickens. They’ll trip you up if you’re not careful. I’m sure they do it on purpose.’
I climb out of the car and stretch my legs. There’s a breeze off the hills that carries with it the familiar, repulsively sweet aroma of manure. My nose automatically wrinkles in distaste.
‘They’re muck-spreading on the farm over the hill. It’s a good earthy smell but it takes outsiders a bit of getting used to. Are you getting your case?’
I shake my head, still not sure that I’m staying.
‘Maybe later then. Follow me.’
Luna leads the way between two tall stone gateposts into a small garden that’s laid out with runner-bean canes and raspberry stakes. Plants are winding their way up the poles and the plots look well cared for.
‘We’re very self-sufficient,’ says Luna, picking up a football that’s sitting in the middle of the courgettes. ‘Everything’s organic. I don’t use any pesticides, and I say thank you out loud to my plants every day for providing me with the food that I eat.’
Of course she does.
When Luna leads me around the corner, I get my first proper view of the house. I thought my first glimpse was of the front of the building, but it turns out it was the back. The real front of the house is split into an L-shape around a small courtyard and it faces a fantastic view across a green valley.
‘Wow!’
‘It’s wonderful, isn’t it.’ Luna puts her hands on her hips and drinks in the fresh warm air. ‘This view soothes the soul, don’t you think? Whoever first built this place was very much in touch with their inner goddess.’ She waves an arm at the house, which is fairly small but perfectly formed of mellow stone weathered by centuries of sun and storms. The paintwork on the deep-red door and the white window frames is flaking.
‘It’s a fabulous house. Do you own – I mean, do you rent…’ I stop because Luna in her hippyish clothes doesn’t look wealthy enough to own this place.
She smiles her mysterious smile. ‘It’s all mine.’
Luna doesn’t elaborate and I follow her through the front door, my head brushing against a feathered dreamcatcher that’s hanging from the thick stone door jamb. Two large crystals suspended from the stone are refracting rainbow colours along the dark hallway.
‘They’re for keeping out bad spirits and negative energies,’ says Luna, leading me into the narrow passageway and closing the door behind me. ‘This has been a happy home for centuries, and I want to ensure it stays that way.’
I follow her into a large room flooded with natural light; an open door in the back wall leads outside.
‘Welcome to the kitchen of Starlight Cottage. Would you like some tea, Flora? I have chamomile, strawberry, or nettle and feverfew.’
I decline politely because I’ve never yet come across a fruit or herbal tea that I like. I’m a strong-cup-of-Yorkshire-Tea kind of girl.
‘A glass of water then? It’s drawn from our own well and tastes wonderful. Sit down and I’ll get it for you.’
When Luna points at the huge oak table in the centre of the room, I take a seat and look at my surroundings.
Heat is radiating from a large cream Aga in the corner and there’s a small fire burning in a huge recessed brick fireplace that’s blackened with soot. Hanging above the flames is a bulbous black-iron pot. It’s a cauldron. An actual cauldron.
‘I like to cook over the fire sometimes,’ says Luna, following my gaze. ‘The food tastes marvellous and that style of cooking suits the feel of this room better, I feel.’
She is witchy weird. A shiver goes down my spine as she places a tall glass of water in front of me. I take a sip of the cold water and frown. This tastes different – actually, it tastes amazing. I gulp down half the glass before remembering that it comes from a well. All I can hope is that it’s purified before being served to visitors. I put the glass down on the table, which is scratched with age.
‘Let me show you to your room,’ says Luna, as though it’s a done deal that I’m moving in. ‘This can be a draughty house but your room is south-facing so it gets the sunshine. Come on.’
Luna leads me back into the hall and up a narrow flight of wooden stairs. We pass several closed doors on the low-beamed landing and then she flings one open. ‘Here we are. Take a look and see what you think.’ She puts her hand into the small of my back and gently pushes me inside.
First impressions of my potential new bedroom are definitely favourable. The room is quite small and frugally furnished, with bare Cotswold-stone walls and dark, pitted wooden beams across the ceiling. I walk across the uneven floorboards to a small square window and look outside. There’s a magnificent view across the valley. The sun is hanging lower in the sky now, casting long shadows of the trees, and in the distance there’s the hum of a lone tractor making its way up the hill.
‘I thought your soul could do with that view,’ says Luna, coming to stand beside me. ‘It oozes healing vibrations. Can you feel them reverberating through your body?’
Hmm. Not really.
Without waiting for an answer, Luna moves to a large wooden wardrobe and opens the door. A musty smell of mothballs drifts into the room. ‘The furniture in here is second hand but adequate, and the bed is small but comfortable,’ she explains. The quilted cover on the single bed looks home-made. ‘You’ll need to pay for your bed and board but we can work out what’s fair.’
I turn from the glorious view towards her. ‘Why, Luna? You don’t know me and yet you’re offering me a place in your home.’
‘I’m offering you sanctuary,’ says Luna, lifting her pale amber eyes to meet mine. ‘That’s what you need right now. Your aura called out to me and I can’t ignore it. The goddesses brought us together for a reason and it’s not my place to question them.’
She really is nuts but she seems harmless enough. And kind, which is what I need right now.
‘What about your partner, Luna? What does he think about you renting out a room. Or she,’ I add quickly, not wanting to make assumptions.
‘My partner passed over a few years ago.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be. Kenneth is always with me, wherever I go. He’s in the walls of this house and the trees in the garden and the mist in the valley on winter mornings,’ says Luna, closing her eyes and swaying gently to a memory.
That’s rather creepy. I glance over my shoulder in case the ghost of Kenneth is wafting around behind me.
‘So what do you think, Flora?’ Luna opens her eyes and smiles. ‘Will you stay here for a while and give your soul a chance to heal?’
I take stock. On the one hand, Luna’s slightly barking, with her goddesses and crystals, and there’s a ghostly vibe going on in the cottage. But on the other hand, it’s incredibly generous and warm-hearted of her to offer me somewhere to stay. It seems peaceful here, the view is to d
ie for, and there must be fewer spiders in this room than in the shop’s grubby attic. Plus, I need some company. I’ve never lived on my own before and the feeling of loneliness that’s washed over me since I left Malcolm is scary.
I make a snap decision. ‘Yes please, Luna. If I could stay for just a little while.’
Luna nods as though she already knew my answer and glances at her watch. ‘You’d better get your case in from the car then and get unpacked. Tea is at six thirty.’
This feels like a happy house. That’s the kind of loopy thing Luna might say, but there is a calmness about the place that’s soothing.
I sit at my new bedroom window and gaze at the view, after unpacking my limited belongings. It’s so kind of Luna to take me in and I think I’ll be OK here for a little while.
The sound of a car driving around the side of the house catches my ear. Luna didn’t say we’d have guests for tea and I don’t really feel up to making polite conversation. But it’s her house.
Sighing, I brush my thick, unruly hair into submission and put on a slick of lip gloss. Then I smooth down my work dress and head for the kitchen. At the door, I plaster on a smile and step inside.
There’s a tall man standing with his back to me. He’s bending over the steaming pot on the Aga and giving the ingredients a stir with a wooden spoon.
‘This smells fantastic. I didn’t have time for a proper lunch so I’m absolutely starving.’
His voice sounds familiar and my heart sinks when he turns around. From the look on his face, the feeling is mutual. He runs a hand through his dark hair and clenches his jaw that’s faintly shadowed with stubble.
‘What are you doing here?’ he says, his voice hard and flat.
Luna stops chopping coriander and pauses with the knife in the air. ‘Do you two know each other?’
‘We met a few days ago in the bookshop in Honeyford,’ says the man, not taking his eyes from my face.
‘That’s the bookshop that Flora runs,’ says Luna, with a puzzled frown.
‘I guessed as much. Caleb caused a bit of a commotion when he accidentally knocked over a tray of drinks.’ As he stresses the word ‘accidentally’, his eyebrows shoot up into his fringe.
‘Oh dear. He can be quite boisterous at times. Did he cause much damage?’
‘There was no real harm done,’ I say quickly, feeling acutely uncomfortable. ‘I didn’t realise that you know Luna.’
‘Know me?’ Luna gives a deep, throaty laugh and brushes strands of hair from her face with the back of her hand. ‘I should think he knows me, seeing as he’s my son. Flora, this is Daniel.’
Oh, fantastic! Daniel’s just called in for his tea and isn’t stopping long – please let those be Luna’s next words.
Luna smiles. ‘Daniel and Caleb live here with me.’
Of course they do.
She picks up her chopping board and scrapes the coriander into the pot. The aromatic smell of herbs wafts around the kitchen.
‘Is Flora here for tea?’ asks Daniel, with a frown, obviously thinking along the same lines as me.
‘She is,’ says Luna, cheerfully, ‘because Flora’s moved in with us for a while. Life’s a little tricky for her at the moment so she’s staying until she’s back on her feet. I knew you’d be fine about it.’
Daniel couldn’t look more horrified if I’d chucked the contents of the pot all over him.
‘What? Excuse us please, Flora.’ With that, he grabs his mother’s elbow and steers her out of the back door and into the garden. Drips from the wooden spoon he’s still holding leave a tomatoey trail across the kitchen tiles.
‘What the hell are you doing, Mum?’ drifts in through the back door, even though he’s lowered his voice. ‘Why are you moving strange people in without telling me?’
I can hear you, I feel like calling. But instead I edge closer to the door, although I know more than most that listening in to people’s conversations causes nothing but problems.
‘Oh, do stop making a fuss, Daniel,’ says Luna, crisply. ‘Flora needs sanctuary and a bit of TLC. She has nowhere else to go so I’ve offered her the spare room until she’s sorted out something more permanent.’
‘And how long will that take? You’ve got to stop taking in waifs and strays, Mum. I don’t know Flora but I get the feeling she’s perfectly able to look after herself.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ says Luna, sounding cross. ‘I’m experiencing waves of hostility from you, Daniel, and I don’t like it. Flora is a good woman in need of support. I can feel it in my bones.’
‘You and your damn feelings,’ mutters Daniel.
‘They’ve done me well so far and this is my house so you’ll just have to get used to the arrangement.’
‘That woman upset Caleb.’
‘I doubt that, and he’s a stronger child than you give him credit for being anyway. Now stop fussing or the tea will catch and burn.’
I move back from the door as the two of them troop back into the kitchen – Luna with her head high and a spring in her step, Daniel following behind with a scowl. Well, this is all going fabulously so far.
‘Are you partial to lentil stew, Flora?’ ask Luna, wiping her hands across her apron.
‘I’m not sure I’ve ever tried it but it smells lovely,’ I reply, not sure how much food I’ll be able to stomach if Daniel is going to be glaring at me across the table.
There’s a sudden clattering in the hallway and the door is flung wide open. It bangs into the stone wall with a resounding thud.
‘Careful, careful!’ says Luna as Caleb bowls in, his blonde hair sticking up and face flushed. He smiles broadly at his grandmother and waves at his father, but his face freezes when he spots me. He looks frightened, which makes me feel awful.
‘Hello. It’s nice to see you again,’ I say, as brightly as I can. ‘I think I owe you a free milkshake.’
Caleb doesn’t move and doesn’t speak.
‘It’s all right, mate,’ murmurs Daniel, moving to stand by his son. ‘She’s not here to tell you off. Flora is here to have some tea.’ He swallows. ‘And it seems that she’s going to be living with us for a while.’
Caleb’s bright blue eyes flicker with alarm but he moves without a word to the table and sits down.
Luna ruffles the top of her grandson’s head before dishing out four plates of steaming lentil stew. She takes blackened baked potatoes from the Aga and drops them onto the plates. Then she starts adding long green beans. She hesitates when she comes to the last plate.
‘Do you like runner beans, Flora? They’re homegrown and organic.’
‘I love all kinds of veg.’
That’s obviously the right answer because Luna nods and piles up a bean mountain on the side of my plate. The food is delicious. Who knew how tasty a stew can be without meat? But it’s hard to eat and make small talk with three people you hardly know – especially when one of them dislikes you intensely and the other keeps shooting you nervous glances, like you’re the Child Catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
‘Does your mum live nearby, Caleb?’ I ask after a while, giving him my biggest smile to show I’m not really the Wicked Witch of the West. I presume grumpy git Daniel has moved in with his mum after splitting up with his wife. I hope she’s found herself a less miserable partner.
Caleb shakes his head and pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth. ‘My mum’s dead,’ he says simply, before shovelling his food in.
I wish I was a witch right now. I’d summon up my superpowers to open up the ground beneath me and send me hurtling into the darkness.
‘I’m… so sorry,’ I stammer.
‘That’s OK. I was only little when it happened and I don’t remember her much,’ says Caleb with a half-smile that breaks my heart.
‘It was a few years ago,’ says Daniel, breezily, but there’s a spark of pain in his brown eyes. ‘Caleb was very small when she passed away, but we’ve been fine just you and me, haven’t we, mate?’
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When he pats his son’s shoulder, Caleb gives him a lentil-y smile and nods.
I should probably leave the conversation there. Just move on to what a lovely summer we’re having, or the ins and outs of Brexit. But how can I inadvertently bring up such a painful subject and then drop it, as though I don’t care?
‘Being a single parent must be difficult,’ I say, stabbing at the beans on my plate with my fork.
Daniel shrugs. ‘It has its moments but we do OK.’
‘I’m sure you do,’ I say, and then mentally kick myself because how can I possibly know if they’re doing OK or not?
Daniel forks potato skin into his mouth and watches me while he chews.
After a while, I can’t stand the silence and blurt out: ‘Have you lived here with Luna for a while then?’
Daniel carefully puts his cutlery down on his plate. ‘No, we moved in a couple of months ago. We needed a fresh start and Mum offered us’ – he pauses – ‘sanctuary for a while.’
‘Just as I’ve done with Flora,’ says Luna, patting his hand before getting up and collecting two large candles from the windowsill. She places them in the middle of the table, next to a large bowl of polished gemstones that’s been calling out to me since the meal began. I’m desperate to run my fingers through the smooth, pink rock crystal and deep-red jasper.
‘I’ve chosen chamomile for peace and rosemary for remembrance,’ she says, striking a long match. Grey curls of smoke start drifting towards the ceiling and the sweet smell of herbs fills my nostrils as the blackened wicks catch alight.
Daniel picks up his cutlery but only pushes his food round his plate while Luna and I make small talk. Caleb asks to be excused as soon as he’s polished off his food and runs off into the garden, banging the door behind him.