Sunshine Over Wildflower Cottage (12 page)

Imagining that it could be her mother, Caro searched inside herself to feel
anything
for the old woman, but there was nothing: no affection, no pity, no interest. As if suddenly aware of her scrutiny, the old lady swung her head towards Caro’s shop and it was clear that it wasn’t her mother after all. This woman had a long face with a witchy-pointed chin. It was only then that Caro allowed herself to think,
Poor old soul
.

Chapter 18

Heath had gone upstairs to his room by the time Viv reached the kitchen. Piccolo was screeching on the table as if he was telling Viv off in Heath’s absence for daring to mention Antonia Leighton. Viv wished she had been brave enough to ask Geraldine what – if anything – was going on between them.
They’d suit each other
, she thought; both of them good-looking and tall, arrogant and feisty. Mortal enemies or secret lovers? They couldn’t be both, could they?

‘Oh shush, Piccolo,’ Geraldine tutted at the owl, not that it did any good. ‘I’ve put the kettle on, Viv. I’ll make you a coffee to take into the office with you.’

Geraldine’s eyes were puffy and bloodshot. She looked absolutely worn out. Her gaze was on the kettle but her thoughts were a long way away.

‘Are you all right?’ asked Viv.

‘No,’ said Geraldine, her voice no higher than a breathy whisper. ‘No, I’m not, Viv.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Viv, and meant it.

‘I don’t either. I can’t think about it. This lovely old building demolished and replaced with a housing estate and no one can do anything. Ironmist won’t be able to choose who lives here any more if that happens.’

Viv was just about to ask what that meant when the door crashed open and in walked Armstrong, grinning a greeting.

‘Heath’s back, isn’t he? I’ve just seen his pick-up. Does that mean Wonky is back too?’

‘Hello, love,’ said Geraldine, pinning on a smile. ‘Yes, she’s back.’

‘Oh that’s great,’ said Armstrong and clapped his hands together. ‘Can I feed her some carrots? My mum sent an apple for her.’ He pulled the bright red apple out of his pocket. ‘It’s a beauty, isn’t it? A proper Snow White apple, I reckon.’

‘I hope it’s not poisoned, Armstrong.’ Geraldine gave him a mock stern look.

‘No, it’s from the garden. It’s the first red one on the tree. It’s not very big though, is it?’

He hadn’t got the joke.

‘Would you like to see how much Wonky likes apples?’ Armstrong asked Viv.

‘Viv’s just going to have a cup—’

‘I’d love to,’ Viv interrupted Geraldine. ‘I’ll have my coffee in a minute,’ she said, smiling at her. Geraldine smiled back. That was kind of Viv to be nice to Armstrong, she thought.

Armstrong skipped out of the door. It should have been an odd sight to see him skip so skittishly but somehow it wasn’t. He would always be a boy, however old he became. Viv hoped he would continue to be as happy and carefree as he was now, too, but she suspected that he would take the closing down of the sanctuary very badly.

‘Have you met Heath?’ said Armstrong, stopping in his tracks and waiting for Viv to catch him up.

‘Yes, I’ve met Heath,’ replied Viv, trying to smile as if it had been a pleasant experience.

‘Want to see my impression of him?’ whispered Armstrong and he stood very tall and stiff and arranged his features into a semblance of exaggerated severity. Viv hooted with laughter.

‘He’s very stern, isn’t he?’ said Armstrong, as they arrived at Wonk’s field. The donkey had started to walk towards him before he started whistling, tempted by the boy or the sight of the apple or both. ‘Except when he’s with
her.
’

‘Her? Who’s her?’ said Viv, although it wouldn’t have taken Einstein to work it out.

‘Antonia Leighton,’ said Armstrong, after checking around to make sure there was no one to overhear them. ‘They fancy each other.’ Wonk nudged Armstrong’s hand, the one with the apple in it. He held it out for Wonk to nibble on. She demolished it in two greedy bites.

Viv had a sudden vision of Heath and Antonia naked on the forest floor rolling around together.

‘I can tell,’ Armstrong confided. ‘My mum always says that opposites attract.’

A little current passed through Viv, too quick to analyse what had made her nerves twang. Confusion at that news, if it were true. A pinch of jealousy, maybe. Though really that was ludicrous; Heath Merlo, she told herself, wasn’t her type at all – and she sure as hell wasn’t his. Her initial reaction to him had been misleading: her damned nose had tricked her. Antonia Leighton and Heath didn’t seem a natural pairing though – or maybe her first impressions were wrong there too. Maybe they were like Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed lovers from feuding families. What a mess, falling in love with your worst enemy’s daughter.

She didn’t like the way that Armstrong’s revelation bothered her. She wanted to ask more but she knew she shouldn’t be encouraging Armstrong to gossip, besides which Geraldine was on her way over to them.

‘Armstrong, will you help me weigh the birds,’ said Geraldine as she neared them. ‘Heath’s going out to a meeting about some funding.’

As if he had timed his exit to coincide with the mention of his name, Heath’s 4x4 zoomed down the drive. He gave Viv the briefest of glances as he passed, loading it with all the irritation he could muster.
I’ve never made as many enemies in such a short time
, thought Viv, pressing down on the involuntary giggle that bubbled up inside her.

‘Yeah, I like weighing the birds,’ said Armstrong, beaming a huge smile. ‘They sit on the kitchen scales and we work out if we’re feeding them all right,’ he explained to Viv. ‘I know all about the birds.’ He was obviously excited about the task.

‘I’ll leave you to it then,’ said Viv and walked back to the cottage. Pilot, standing in the doorway, started waving his long tail as she approached and she was quite touched that he knew her enough to wag at her. Bub was purring and rubbing against her leg as she collected her coffee but she wasn’t fooled and he didn’t get a stroke. Piccolo was on the floor, comically peering into a hole beneath the kitchen units where the plinth had broken off. The place was a flipping madhouse.

Heath had left a list of animal sanctuaries on her desk for her to ring to see if they could take in his motley family and notes on which animals would be best where. And which could not be separated under any circumstances because they had grown close to each other and would pine. It must have been upsetting for him to draw it up like a will, a sombre but necessary task, she thought. The paper was creased and she guessed he had done it ages ago but hoped he’d never have to use it.

It was a duty that Viv, too, approached with a far heavier heart than she would have imagined. She had been here less than a week and already the place felt
a whole
. To be an agent of its deconstruction made her feel sadder than she wanted to. Her detachment was crumbling more with every wag of Pilot’s tail and smile from Geraldine’s lips. Coming here, she knew now, had been a monumental mistake and the best thing she could do was get out as fast as possible.

Chapter 19

Geraldine screamed out and sat bolt upright in bed as she broke out of the shell of the dream which enclosed her and suffocated her, and even though she knew she was safe in the cottage, she still felt shaken to the core. There had been detail to the dream which gave it credibility – the way he said her name, the chain he wore around his neck, the smell of his aftershave which he always over-applied. He had always said he would find her and she thought he might because in this digital age it was impossible to hide. It was only in the past year that she had let herself believe he never would; but recently, in the last few days, the dreams had started again. Since Viv arrived.

*

Viv started tackling the accounts the next day. They were in a terrible state. The sanctuary was overpaying on gas and electricity and she negotiated a much better deal on their phone and internet package too. She liked that kind of wheeling and dealing. Stel had taught her that there was always a bargain to be found when you needed to save a few pounds. Although really, if the place was going to be closing, was she wasting her time? Then again, another one of Stel’s sayings was ‘It’s not over until it’s over’. Geraldine would have certainly agreed with that philosophy, thought Viv, so she pressed on.

Geraldine was quiet that day. She said she hadn’t slept very well and spent hours in the stables, scrubbing them out thoroughly. Stel used to clean things when she had stuff on her mind, thought Viv. It was as if she were trying to scrub away what was gnawing at her by mopping and brushing and blasting things with bleach. She’d done it a lot when she’d been ill, at least when she’d had the energy.

Viv hadn’t seen Heath all day, but that was no great hardship. She didn’t stop for lunch until nearly three o’clock. She made some cheese and onion sandwiches for herself and Geraldine, who hadn’t had a break either. They were both ready for something to eat by then.

‘What a treat,’ said Geraldine, flopping into one of the chairs around the dining table after she had given her hands a thorough rinse at the sink.

‘It’s just a sandwich,’ said Viv.

‘Ah, but they always taste so much nicer when someone else has made them,’ replied Geraldine, savouring her first mouthful as if it were a creation conjured up by Raymond Blanc.

‘You must be tired,’ said Viv.

‘Good. I’ll sleep tonight then,’ Geraldine answered her. ‘There’s nothing like a bit of stable-clearing for wearing you out.’

‘I’m mentally exhausted today,’ smiled Viv. ‘The accounts will take me an age to get in order.’

Geraldine grimaced. ‘I hate doing those and I’m hopeless at them. As you can probably tell.’

Viv broke off a corner of her sandwich, taking care to strip out the onion, and gave it to Pilot who was sitting hopefully at her side. He took it from her so very gently.

‘Where’s Mr Merlo?’ said Viv. ‘Shouldn’t he be helping you?’
Or me
, she added silently.
Was he the skiving type
?

Geraldine answered as if she could hear what Viv was thinking.

‘If you think that Heath is out enjoying himself whilst we are slaving away here, let me tell you that no one works harder than he does. He’s been up since the crack of dawn helping one of the farmers up Mawton way. They’ve been very good to us, sending supplies for the animals, and Heath will always repay a favour.’

‘Ah,’ said Viv. She wasn’t too hard on herself for thinking he was lax though. It would have explained why things were in such a mess.

‘What are you going to do with yourself this weekend then?’ asked Geraldine.

‘I’m going to drive back tonight to . . . er . . . Sheffield and see my mum,’ said Viv.

‘Well, you get yourself off now in that case,’ said Geraldine. ‘You’ve worked like a Trojan all week.’

‘Are you sure?’ The idea that she could be sitting back on her mum’s sofa in less than two hours sounded wonderful to Viv.

‘I’m positive,’ replied Geraldine. ‘Heath will be home soon enough and I’m just about done for the day myself.’

Viv grinned. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’

‘It’s your weekend,’ said Geraldine. ‘You spend it where you want, duck.’

Viv didn’t say that a flying visit would suffice because there were urgent things she had to do and people she had to see and all of them were in Ironmist. But tonight she very badly wanted to go home and visit her mum and her cuddly ginger cat. She needed to slip back into her old familiar world again before it all changed for good.

Chapter 20

Stel opened the door to her daughter as if she hadn’t seen her for a hundred years. She dragged her over the threshold pelting her with questions about her new life at Wildflower Cottage. Basil jumped on Viv’s knee as soon as she sat on the sofa and dribbled as he purred and rubbed himself against her cheek and made her face wet and slobbery and Viv thought it was heaven. It would have been easy not to go back and if she hadn’t left all her things there, she might not have done.

‘Why did you run off then, eh?’ Viv asked the cat, stroking his back as he settled down. He’d lost weight. His spine felt knobbly underneath his fur.

‘I just can’t understand it,’ said Stel, handing her daughter a cup of coffee. ‘I think he must have taken a wrong turn, lost his bearings and set off in completely the wrong direction. I could have married Ian when he found him.’

‘Yes, well, don’t,’ tutted Viv, making Stel laugh.

‘I promise I won’t.’

‘So he’s nice, is he?’ quizzed Viv. ‘This Ian?’

‘Very,’ replied Stel. ‘He’s a gardener at the hospice. And a really good one as well. He’s made an amazing water feature. Very good with his hands.’ Then she giggled and Viv heard herself thinking,
Here we go again
. She knew her mother was on course to fall hook, line and sinker after half a film and a bag of popcorn.

‘Anyway, never mind about me, tell me all about your job. No, let’s order a Chinese first and you can fill me in whilst we’re eating. I’ve got a bottle of Champagne in to celebrate. Well, it’s Prosecco really but we can pretend, can’t we?’

So, over sweet and sour king prawn, mother and daughter chatted and laughed and drank fizz and tried to pretend they were brave grown-ups and Stel didn’t say that she wished Viv would stay home and not go back and Viv didn’t say that part of her wished she had never taken the job because it might alter their relationship for ever.

Chapter 21

Stel waved goodbye to Viv at ten the next morning. Storms were forecast at lunchtime and so Viv had driven off earlier than she’d originally intended to in order to avoid them. Once Stel was alone, she had nothing to stop her nerves about her impending date with Ian Robson hijacking her brain. She hadn’t a clue how she was going to fill the time between now and seven o’clock. There was no cleaning to do, no ironing. It was too miserable weather-wise to walk around town and Meadowhall was always uncomfortably busy on a Saturday. She tried to read the newly delivered paper but it was no good, she needed to speak to someone and Caro was the first friend who came to mind.