by Emma Davies
She nearly jumped out of her skin as the kitchen door was unceremoniously kicked wide open and a young woman entered the room. Her wellies were caked in mud and her hands and arms were fighting against an array of vegetables which threatened to spill from the fold of her bright blue apron. She gave Maddie a wary smile and crossed to the sink, dumping the apron’s contents into it, expertly catching a potato which bounced on the rim. She turned around, hand extended.
‘Madeline?’ she asked, with a slightly wider smile this time. ‘I’m Clara.’
Maddie took her grubby hand gingerly, feeling the roughness of the skin which met hers.
‘Maddie.’ She nodded, taking in the newcomer who appeared so very much at home in Seth’s kitchen. Two huge blue eyes twinkled back at her, framed by a mess of freckles and a too wide mouth and a mane of messy, honey-blonde hair to her slender waist. She shouldn’t have been beautiful, but she was. She was obviously Seth’s girlfriend, with her matching sun-tanned face and the way she moved so comfortably around the kitchen. Funny he hadn’t mentioned her before, but he’d hardly had the chance.
‘Seth mentioned that I’d find you here,’ she said. ‘How are things going?’
Maddie wasn’t sure how she could possibly answer that when she didn’t know herself, or indeed what Seth might have said about her.
‘Good.’ She nodded. ‘Well, you know, bit strange, getting used to a new place and all that. Still finding my feet.’
‘Cleaning out the cupboards though?’
Maddie narrowed her eyes, suddenly realising she had strayed into someone else’s territory, albeit unintentionally.
‘Erm, no.’ She pulled a face. ‘Wondering if I should make dinner actually. Wondering what to make for dinner.’ She looked into Clara’s open face, unsure whether to continue. ‘I’m not what you’d call a natural cook…’
‘Oh, I see… Well, Seth’s not fussy. Anything you make will be fine.’
Maddie shifted her weight onto the other foot. ‘Will you be staying to eat as well?’ she asked, wondering why she suddenly felt like the hired help.
Clara’s response was immediate. ‘Crikey no, I’m supposed to have finished work hours ago, but you know how it is. Still, delivering this lot was my final task for the day and now I’m very definitely headed for home.’
They didn’t live together? Her confusion must have shown on her face.
‘I’m the gardener,’ added Clara. ‘Not a girlfriend, or a wife, you can stand easy.’
Maddie’s face flushed. ‘Sorry, was I that obvious?’
‘Not at all. Standing in another woman’s kitchen is never an easy place to be. Perhaps it will help you to know that as far as I’m aware Seth is only ever intending to be married to this place. So if you did have a notion to clear out the cupboards you wouldn’t be stepping on anyone’s toes.’
‘Except Seth’s perhaps?’ asked Maddie with a smile. ‘I don’t think he’s all that happy with my being here at all. I was supposed to be meeting with him today but he didn’t show up. I just thought that making dinner might be the way to put me back in his good books. Well, at least long enough for us to have a proper discussion.’
‘Ah, well, it’s one way… possibly.’
Maddie suddenly felt very exposed, and looked around desperately for an opportunity to change the subject.
‘So are the vegetables for anything in particular?’ she asked, eyeing the sink.
‘General consumption,’ answered Clara. ‘I just bring whatever looks gorgeous and needs eating. The garden always produces far too much for this house alone; the rest we sell at the local market.’
Maddie’s eyes fell on the familiar shape of a potato – at least she thought they were potatoes, there was a lot more mud on them than she was used to.
‘So, could I use them, if I needed to…’ Her voice trailed away as she trawled her brain for the few recipes it contained.
‘Yes, just don’t mash the spuds though, they’re too new.’ She checked her watch and began to untie her apron. ‘I wouldn’t make anything that spoils easily either; going by past experience Seth could be in any time between now and midnight.’
Maddie’s face fell as things seemed to be getting harder, not easier.
‘Maybe a casserole?’ suggested Clara. ‘They’re always a good standby.’
‘Right…’
Clara was walking towards the door, but she turned at the last minute, hair swishing about her shoulders.
‘Listen, it’s probably none of my business, but I’m guessing you’re trying to make a good impression here.’
Maddie nodded.
‘And, if you don’t mind me saying so, you look like you could do with a little help…’
Maddie nodded again, dropping her eyes at the last minute, embarrassed at being caught so out of her depth. But deep down she knew if she was going to make a success of things here, there was one thing she needed to do, and that was to get Seth on her side, fast.
‘It’s just that I’ve come from London, and food there, well it’s different. I ate out a lot…’
‘So what sort of thing did you have in mind?’
Maddie dropped her head even further, expelling a slow breath.
‘I have absolutely no idea,’ she admitted. ‘And even if I did, I’m a useless cook.’
Clara gave her a warm smile this time. ‘Useless, or inexperienced?’
That was kind of her. She had no reason to be nice to Maddie at all, but whatever her motive, she was glad of it. She gave a tentative smile in reply.
‘Probably both,’ she said.
‘Well, let’s find out, shall we?’ Clara dumped her apron on the table and crossed to the sink. ‘First things first,’ she said.
Hands washed, she swung the mane of hair over her shoulder and, in one continuous movement, plaited it into a thick braid. She fastened it with a band that materialised from nowhere and threw it backwards once more, surveying the contents of the table as she did so.
‘So, I’m thinking some sort of vegetable casserole… perhaps with lentils, or beans, a bit smokey maybe… and some cheese scones to mop up the juice.’
Maddie looked at her, incredulous. ‘We can do all that? Will we have time?’
‘Sure. That’s the best thing about it; the longer it cooks the better it gets. We’ll just throw it all in the oven and when Seth gets back later it will be ready to serve, whatever the time. He’ll be dead chuffed.’
‘Will he?’
‘Guaranteed,’ said Clara firmly. ‘Seth is pretty immoveable when it comes to certain things, and his passion doesn’t always show itself in a good light, but I’ve never known him to be unappreciative of a generous spirit. When in doubt, try to remember that.’
‘It sounds as if you might be talking from experience?’
Clara paused, holding Maddie’s look, her expression still gentle, and yet there was a flicker of what her mum would have called backbone.
‘I owe Seth a few favours, that’s all, so I look out for him when and if I can. I’d hate to see him get hurt.’
Her message was loud and clear.
‘So, not a wife or a girlfriend then,’ said Maddie, ‘and yet I still feel like I’ve strayed into your territory.’
There was a small smile. ‘It’s a long story… and one best kept for another day.’ The smile grew bigger. ‘But of course I also know why you’re here. I’ve been helping Seth cut back Agatha’s hedge today, and she was very vocal about the huge sums of money she’s prepared to inject into this place now that she has an expert on board. She was also very opinionated about what she expects from you…’
She picked up an onion from the table and handed it to Maddie.
‘I can see you have a lot to lose, Maddie, and quite a lot to prove if you’re going to do justice to Agatha’s vision for this place. Just bear in mind that this puts you in a rather awkward position; she and Seth don’t exactly see eye to eye when it comes to what’s right for Joy’s Acre. All I ask
is that you keep an open mind.’
Maddie took the proffered vegetable. ‘I’ll do my best,’ she replied, her heart sinking at the idea of playing piggy in the middle. ‘Thanks for the warning.’
‘It’s not a warning, Maddie, please don’t think that – well, not unless you’re planning on stitching Seth up, in which case I’ll cut your heart out with a spoon. But Seth does need some help, so today, I’m here as a friend.’ She smiled.
It was kind, but it was still a warning, thought Maddie.
‘I can only imagine what Agatha has said about my role here, and I suspect it’s made you rather suspicious of me. I’d have thought you’d prefer it if I fell flat on my face and crawled back to London, and yet here you are still helping.’
Clara winced. ‘I’m cautious of course, but I can see possibilities and I’d like to see how this turns out. I’m a gardener, remember; it’s in my nature to nurture things.’
* * *
Seth arrived back just after seven. Maddie heard the thump of his boots hitting the floor in the hallway just moments before he almost fell through the door, supported only by the two dogs at his side. He crashed onto the nearest chair as the two dogs rushed past him towards her, cornering Maddie by the sink as they bounced up and down, tongues lolling. Seth appeared not to have even noticed.
She tried to shrink back into the space, but any movement she made only served to excite the dogs even further. Remembering Seth’s advice from the day before, she put down a tentative hand to say hello, hoping that once she had patted them they would run off somewhere else and leave her be. She snatched her hand back at the first touch of slobber, a small squeak escaping as she grimaced with distaste.
‘I know, I know,’ came Seth’s voice, low and grumbling. ‘Just give me ten, for goodness’ sake.’
He looked up, slow recognition dawning on his face as if he had just seen Maddie for the first time.
Maddie wasn’t sure if he was talking to the dogs, or to her. She gave a tentative smile.
‘I tried the stroking thing,’ she said, as he frowned at her, ‘but…’
‘They’re hungry,’ he said, eyes glazed.
‘Oh…’ She looked at the two ravenous beasts in front of her and pulled her hands even closer to her chest. ‘I could feed them, maybe.’
‘Do you even know where their food is kept?’
‘No, but you could point and I—’
‘Quicker to do it myself.’ He sighed, lurching from the chair and out of the door again on a tide of wagging tails.
Maddie brushed at the front of her clothes and quickly turned to wash her hands, shuddering at the slimy feeling on her fingers. At least she hadn’t lost any.
A few moments later Seth reappeared, taking up the same position as earlier, before sitting forward and cradling his head in his hands.
‘You couldn’t flick the kettle on, could you?’ he asked without looking up. ‘I’m dying for a coffee.’
Bugger, she should have thought of that.
‘I’ll make you one, shall I?’ she said. ‘Would you like it now, or with dinner? It should be ready.’
The hands slowly came away from his head. He stared at her.
‘Dinner?’
‘Yeah, I made a casserole… stew… type thing. I wasn’t sure what time you’d be in, you see. It seemed the most sensible idea.’
It wasn’t a complete lie, she had helped Clara to make it. In fact, after a rather tentative start the two of them had worked well together.
He was still staring at her.
She swallowed, looking nervously at him. Had she done the wrong thing? Perhaps she wasn’t really allowed in his kitchen after all.
‘There are some cheese scones to go with it as well… if you like them.’
A slow smile gathered on his face, which bit by bit seemed to animate the rest of him as well.
‘I thought you would have eaten already.’
‘No, well, I had quite a good lunch so I wasn’t really that hungry. Happy to wait.’
Now that was a lie; lunch had been hours ago, and she was absolutely starving.
His eyes searched her face, but he seemed to accept what she was saying.
‘I ought to go and get changed then, I’m a bit…’ He searched for a suitable adjective, and then gave up. Maddie wasn’t surprised, she could think of quite a few, and none of them were complimentary.
‘I’ll make that coffee then, shall I?’ she asked, turning to the sink with the kettle in her hand. ‘Was it one, or two sugars?’
‘One and a half-ish, I’m trying to cut down.’
She nodded, pulling straight the smile that threatened. There was hardly an ounce of fat on him as it was, what on earth was he cutting down for?
The coffee made, she began to dish up their meal, anxiously pulling open the oven door and removing the casserole dish for inspection. She needn’t have worried. The stew was rich, dark and fragrant, and as she spooned it into two large bowls she realised how satisfied she felt. It had been a very long time since she had gone to so much trouble over a meal, but the weird thing was that it hadn’t felt like an arduous task at all. Chatting to Clara had only made it less so, and really it had been ridiculously simple to put together. Even the scones, which she had never made before, had outperformed all her expectations. She sniffed the heaped bowls, sending up a little prayer that Seth liked it.
They sat down opposite each other across the huge scrubbed pine table, as Maddie searched fruitlessly for a way to begin the conversation, and Seth looked, frankly, dumbstruck. He waved a hand towards the food.
‘I really didn’t expect this,’ he said. ‘But I’m very grateful. It’s been a long day.’
He didn’t elaborate, but then he didn’t need to. Clara’s mention of Agatha’s name earlier was enough to help her guess exactly what sort of a day Seth had had.
Maddie gathered herself together and took a breath.
‘I felt it was something I should do,’ she said, ‘after yesterday, I mean. Perhaps it wasn’t the best of starts and I—’
‘Really shouldn’t apologise,’ butted in Seth. ‘I was in a vile mood, which wasn’t your fault. I made no effort to make you feel welcome, and I’m sorry.’ He took a scone from the plate in front of them. ‘I do need help here, Madeline, so please don’t think that I’m ungrateful. It’s more that the circumstances of it are not exactly—’
‘What you had in mind? Or would have chosen if you’d had any say in the matter…’
His eyes met hers. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘Sorry.’
‘And I probably shouldn’t have shoved my ideas down your throat without at least doing you the courtesy of listening to what you want for this place, so I’m sorry too.’
There, she had said it. She had apologised. A line had been drawn and perhaps now they would both be able to move forward. She reached to pick up her spoon. Her ideas could wait until the morning, now was not the time.
‘Do you like wine?’
The question surprised her. It seemed out of keeping with their surroundings somehow, but she nodded a vehement yes. Good grief, maybe there was some semblance of civilisation here after all.
Seth smiled, excusing himself and returning moments later with a bottle of wine, not quite full she noticed.
‘Is red okay?’
She nodded again. ‘Is the pope a Catholic?’
He grinned, just a little, as he poured out two large glasses.
‘To Joy’s Acre then,’ he said once he was seated again.
She raised her glass a little hesitantly. ‘To Joy’s Acre.’
The wine flowed over her tongue like silk. It was good, very good.
* * *
It was only as she lay in bed hours later that she realised that virtually all of the conversation had been about her. He had asked her about her family, and although there wasn’t much to tell, she had talked about her parents who, only last year, had sold up and moved to the Dorset coast. Her father had taken
early retirement from his job as a civil engineer and now indulged his passion for wine by opening a small shop there. Her brother, by contrast, was never in the country for longer than about two weeks. As a physiotherapist under contract to the English athletics team he was regularly on tour with them and she was lucky if she saw him more than once a year. No, she had told him, they weren’t particularly close.
Every now and again she had tried to turn the conversation back around, but somehow, without her even noticing, Seth had steered back in her direction all too quickly. Perhaps it had been nerves, possibly the wine, but more than likely Seth’s expert questioning, but she had babbled on incessantly about her childhood, early career in advertising, holidays, even the cars she drove, and now she realised she scarcely knew any more about Seth than she had at the start of the evening, whereas he had probably been bored rigid. She cringed at the thought.
It had been a good evening though. The wine had broken the ice, and after they had sampled the first spoonful of casserole, they were both surprised by how good it tasted and had eaten steadily. The time had melted away.
She was about to turn over and go to sleep when the soft creak of her bedroom door startled her. She must have left it ajar and it was now opening.
To her relief the tip of a ginger tail was all that came through it and she almost giggled when she felt the edge of the bed dip and soft paws slink across the bed covers. Her outstretched hand met the soft head and almost immediately a rumbling purr split the silence. The cat worked its way closer to her and, just as it had intended, tucked himself into her side as she lay down again.
She was almost asleep when she realised what she was doing. She would never let an animal sleep on her bed – the hairs, the germs! She sat up, grasping the dozing cat and, to its disgust, depositing it firmly on the landing. Closing the door resolutely behind her, she leaned against it so that it clicked shut and padded back to bed. Six minutes later she was fast asleep.