Blackberry Picking at Jasmine Cottage

Chapter 2

Jasmine Cottage lived up to its name. The sweet-scented white flowers spread a delicate flush of colour over the old red brick as the plant snaked its way round the old window frames, over the ramshackle porch and up towards the roof. In amongst the feathery leaves of the summer jasmine were thicker, woody stems that Lucy was pretty confident were winter jasmine. Six months ago she wouldn’t have had a clue, but after spending all her spare time trying to tame Annie’s garden she discovered she’d taken in more details from the gardening books she’d found in the tiny bookcase under the stairs than she’d have thought possible.

If she remembered correctly, winter jasmine had yellow flowers, which meant that once Christmas was over she could look forward to a flush of cheery bright colour.

Since she’d spoken to Mr Bannister on the phone, she’d been completely distracted by the puppy and hadn’t been able to give the cottage (or him) another thought. In fact, she’d not even remembered to mention it to Charlie. But now she was here every doubt about whether this was the right thing to do fled her mind.

Which could be bad news, given the state of the overgrown garden, and peeling porch and window frames.

It might be a good job she enjoyed a challenge she thought wryly, as she pushed the small gate, and it rocked alarmingly on its one hinge and squeaked in protest.

‘Morning, Lucy.’

Jumping at the cheery greeting, she spun round to see the tall, lanky figure of Simon Proofit.

‘Simon, am I glad to see you!’ Which could be taken as rude. ‘Not that, well, I was expecting Mr Bannister.’

Simon grinned as though her reaction wasn’t totally unexpected. ‘Alf couldn’t make it.’

‘Alf,’ Lucy felt the smile twitch at the corners of her mouth, ‘that’s his name?’ That made him seem much more human.

‘It is, he inherited more than just the business from his grandad. What do you think?’ Simon gestured at the cottage. ‘It’s the type of property we say,’ he put on his ‘estate-agent’ voice, ‘has got oodles of charm and character.’

Lucy laughed, the last trace of the jitters disappearing from her stomach at his disarming smile. ‘I bet you do. Along with dry rot and rising damp?’

He chuckled. ‘The plumbing has character as well. Want a look?’ He strode past her, and was opening the front door before Lucy had a chance to answer.

Lucy stepped from the stone flags to the warmth of the old oak floorboards and fell head-over-heels in love with Jasmine Cottage.

‘It’s beautiful.’ The words came out on a sigh.

‘It is.’ Simon’s tone had softened, lost its normal slightly bombastic strength, and he walked over and settled into one of the armchairs by the fireplace, sending up a plume of dust that danced in the sunlight. ‘It’s been empty since May had to go into the nursing home, and her family haven’t wanted to part with it. I think they’ve hung on because giving up on the place would be accepting she’ll never come back.’

‘How sad. I don’t think I know her, she must have left before I came to the village.’ Lucy wandered over to the window; she had the perfect view of the green, of the bench where she and Charlie had sat so many times. For a second something caught in her throat, a sadness she didn’t want to acknowledge. Charlie had to go where his daughter led. If Josie took Maisie away, then he’d be leaving the village too. She was sure he felt the same way about her, as she did about him. That he’d want her to go with him. But it wouldn’t be easy. They both had busy lives. And leaving this lovely place would be hard.

For the first time in her life she felt like she belonged somewhere. That Langtry Meadows was her home.

‘Oh, May’s been gone a couple of years now.’ Lucy turned her attention back to the estate agent, and he waved in the direction of the fireplace. ‘You could put a nice wood burning stove in there.’

She gazed round the room. ‘It would be so easy to make it cosy.’ She could reach the beamed ceiling if she stretched up, but the place felt safe, and comforting, even in its present neglected state. ‘I could soon clean up the floorboards.’

A few bright rugs scattered around, a bookcase in the corner, some new curtains would transform the place. She could even squeeze her desk into the alcove.

‘Want to see more?’ Sensing a sale, Simon jumped to his feet, and waved her on enthusiastically.

The kitchen was bigger than she’d expected, and brighter, with a lovely large window which she was instantly drawn to and found herself looking out over the small cottage garden. Next to the house was a York paved patio, with a small, round wrought iron table and chairs and a mass of colourful pots all different shapes and sizes that she could imagine overflowing with summer bedding plants.

Lucy turned back to study the room. There was a mix of old fashioned cupboards, and under her feet the red quarry tiles seemed to glow, leading her gaze straight to the cream Aga.

‘Wow, is that a proper Aga?’

Simon grinned. ‘It is, May’s daughter told us it’s been looked after, but it runs on coal so you might want a more modern version.’

‘Oh I love it, just as it is, it must be so cosy in the winter in here.’ She could sit, on a chair by the Aga, reading a book or doing her marking, and gaze out at the cute back garden. Charlie and Maisie would adore the place, though she really, really mustn’t think that way, their future could be far away. But the pup would love it here, it would be heaven for a dog.

Oh God, she mustn’t think about that, the poor thing was really ill, and she still didn’t know quite how poorly it was. The way it had looked at her, so trusting, lifting its head even though it was so weak. She blinked. She mustn’t think about it, she’d had her heart broken once before as a child, when she’d lost her dog, her best friend. Her and her mother had moved, and not been able to take Sandy with them, and now she really didn’t know if she was ready to risk the heartache again. Even thinking about the poor little scrap, the thought of it dying …

She gulped away the feelings and stroked a hand along the old stone sink.

She’d love it here. She just knew she would. And buying it was something she’d be doing for herself.

‘I’ve got to warn you that the bathroom isn’t up to much.’ Simon was heading up the small staircase as he spoke, ducking to avoid the beam. ‘It was originally outside the back door of course, which is now a brilliant storage shed, I’ll show you in a minute, but they squeezed one in up here about forty years ago.’ He turned to wink at her. ‘Modern development.’

The small bathroom was far from modern, but she could imagine how it would look if she got a claw foot bath near the window, if she stripped out the thin green carpet, the olive-coloured tiles, and the avocado suite that might well be as old as the bathroom itself.

‘You’d need a survey of course, but the place is basically sound as far as we can tell. The family did look after it for May, it just needs a bit of updating and a few throws and cushions and stuff, not that I’m into interior decorating, but my mum is a whizz with a bit of soft furnishing. Only started to appreciate it when I started going into other people’s houses and realising how much difference a few bits and bobs could make.’

Lucy couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, and he blushed, ushering her into the next room.

‘Master bedroom, nice view over the green and pond, you can peer round the net curtains and keep up with business better than Elsie Harrington can. Must drive her mad being hidden away by the church.’

‘She does get to see what goes on in the square.’

‘True. What do you think then?’

‘Honestly?’

‘Honestly.’ He sat down next to her on the little window seat.

‘It’s amazing, Simon. I could see myself living here. But …’

‘But?’ His shoulder nudged against hers, as though chivvying her on, willing her to say yes.

‘Well Mr Bannister, Alf, said it would sell quickly and I’m sure he’s right, and I’d need to sell my own house first.’

‘Don’t worry about that. If you really want it, get yours on the market and we’ll sit on this for a few days.’

‘But you can’t …’ She frowned. ‘It’s business, you …’

‘It’s much better for the village if the people who live here own the houses. Especially these ones. We can’t hold on to it for ever, but if you’re serious …’

‘Yes.’ She looked around, and nodded. ‘I’m serious.’ There was a little flutter of anticipation deep down in her stomach. This could be her home. Her real home. Not some characterless block of bricks that was little more to her than a symbol of her achievements. ‘I am.’ She could hear the conviction ring out in her own voice. ‘I’ll ring the agent who’s letting mine out as soon as I get home, I’m sure he can give me an idea of how long it would take to sell, and confirm a price.’ Although she had a fair idea of how much the house would be worth. Hopefully she’d be able to keep the same level of mortgage and she’d have a little bit of equity to spend on the work the cottage needed.

‘Great, Alf will be pleased.’

She raised an eyebrow, and Simon laughed.

‘He’s okay, just a bit of a grumpy git on the outside, but his heart’s in the right place. He’d far rather somebody we know buy it, and so would May’s family.’

Lucy felt a little glow spread up through her body. Somebody we know. She hadn’t been in the village that long, less than a year, but she did feel she belonged, she did feel she knew people – which was something she’d never expected at all.

‘Feel free to come and collect the key if you need another look.’

‘I will, thanks Simon. I’ll let you know this afternoon what the agent says, although you’re closed aren’t you?’

‘Officially, according to Alf. Here,’ he held out a card, ‘take this, it’s got my mobile number on it.’

The banging on the door was followed by the sound of it creaking open, and a cheery ‘hello.’ Lucy gave up on staring at the email from the estate agents, not that she’d been concentrating on it that hard – with the poorly pup on her mind – and closed the lid of her laptop with a sigh, just as Maisie flung the kitchen door open and dashed in, a small brown dog at her heels.

‘I’ve been to see my friend, have you got any cakes? Daddy says you’ve got cakes.’

Lucy grinned. ‘They’re for the picnic tomorrow.’

‘Hi!’ Charlie, looking much more relaxed than he had earlier at the surgery, ruffled his daughter’s hair. ‘You’ve had enough cake, and what happened to “Hello Lucy, how are you?”’

‘I don’t need to say that, she’s got a happy face so I already know.’ Maisie rooted through the wicker basket of toys near the back door. ‘Daddy says your puppy’s a poo.’ She giggled. ‘Poo and Roo go together. Come on Roo.’ Picking out a tug toy she waved it at the dog, before making a dash for the back garden.

‘My puppy’s a poo?’ Lucy raised an eyebrow. Not sure about the poo, or the fact Maisie had called it her puppy.

Charlie shook his head, trying not to smile. ‘It is indeed, well that’s my best guess, I think it’s a cockerpoo, a cocker spaniel poodle cross, and I have good news.’

‘About the puppy? She’s going to be okay?’

‘Yep. I thought I’d deliver the news in person, along with this.’ He held up a bottle of wine, then after a quick glance out of the window he leaned in and planted the softest of kisses on her lips. It was a gentle caress, the slightest brush of his dry lips against hers, but it found its way all the way down to her toes.

‘Oh.’ Lucy’s stomach gave a little flip, and the single syllable quivered. They’d said they wouldn’t get too involved over the summer, for Maisie’s sake. But they’d failed miserably. Not that the little girl had been affected. Charlie’s parents had been overjoyed that Josie was away. She’d always limited the time they could spend with their only granddaughter, and as soon as they’d known the coast was clear they’d been on the phone to Charlie – begging him to let them spend as much time as they could with Maisie over the summer. So Maisie had spent several weeks with her nana and grandad, and Lucy had spent rather a lot of time with Charlie.

Now, after two weeks of him spending as much time as he could with Maisie, and her spending rather more time than she wanted to with her spreadsheets preparing for the new school year, she had a very unladylike urge to jump on him.

He winked, as though he’d read her mind. ‘I really need to get my hands on you, think you’ll be able to cope with my animal urges once Maisie’s fast asleep tonight?’ The rough edge to his voice brought a rush of goosebumps to her arms.

‘I’ll do my best.’ She grinned as the heady atmosphere of anticipation lifted a bit. ‘Think you’ll be able to cope with all my demands?’

‘Oh, I’ll certainly do my best.’

They grinned at each other. Then he remembered the wine. ‘Open it now, finish it later?’

She smiled back at the question in his voice. She’d fallen in love, and she felt happier than she could ever remember being. But she also knew they had to keep this as low key as they could for Maisie’s sake, now she was back.

Lucy knew only too well how it felt to be abandoned by somebody you loved, what the upheaval from your family home could do to you. At least Maisie’s dad loved her, both her parents loved her, and her move to Langtry Meadows was to a lovely welcoming place. Nothing like the nightmare Lucy had experienced.

When she was not much older than Maisie, she’d been sure that nobody loved her. She’d thought her dad had abandoned her, and that her friends hated her. She’d lost her dog, her home, and her mother was working every hour she could to scrape a living. Lucy’s whole world had crumbled. Which was why, when she’d graduated, she’d buried herself in the anonymity of a city.

But she’d learned recently that the truth was far more complicated. Wasn’t it always? That her mum had feared for their lives, and fled her domineering and brutal husband. That starting a brand new life, severing all their ties had been what had saved them. Even though for years it hadn’t seemed like that.

Maisie’s situation was quite different. But Lucy knew that the little girl needed as much of her father’s attention as work allowed. For now, she had to be there for support, a helping hand, not her father’s lover. Which would be confusing, more than confusing as she was also going to be Maisie’s teacher.

Tonight though was special. They’d agreed that they needed to distract Maisie from the fast approaching start of term. Charlie and his daughter would stay with Lucy in the cottage, then in the morning they’d make a picnic together, before heading off on an adventure.

‘Sounds nice.’ She grabbed a corkscrew. ‘Is she okay?’ Lucy kept her voice low, even though Roo was barking and Maisie was squealing excitedly.

Charlie shrugged. ‘She’s been a bit subdued.’ The smile dropped from his face, the fan of laughter lines she loved so much faded away. ‘It’s my fault, she’s probably spent far too much time with Mum and Dad this summer and in between I’ve let her see too much of her old friends, and not got her to mix with the kids here.’

‘It’s not your fault.’ She chided him gently, wishing she could take the worry away from his eyes. ‘Everybody is away over the summer anyway, and she needs to know her old friends are still there for her, young kids need to feel secure, it helps them cope with change.’ She glanced down. ‘I lost all my friends when I moved.’ It had been horrible, she’d come to terms with it, discovered why it had been that way. But she could still remember how it felt. The hurt. The feeling of being cast aside – and even the logic of knowing it wasn’t actually like that couldn’t rewrite the memories. Which was why she had to resist the temptations of the gorgeous Charlie Davenport, and make sure they did this right.

‘I know.’ He put a warm hand over hers, squeezed, and brought a lump to her throat.

‘We can chat later, when she’s in bed? Come up with a plan.’

He laughed then, a warm, deep laugh and looked straight into her eyes. More tempting than a box of her favourite hard caramel chocolates. ‘You and your plans, you haven’t got a colour coded spreadsheet in mind, have you?’

‘Of course.’ She took his lead, moved on from the difficult topic that she was sure occupied most of his waking hours. ‘So, how’s the puppy?’

‘She’s not got parvo.’ His words were muffled, as his head was in the cupboard. ‘We’ll have to keep her in a few days, but then she’s all yours. So, what are you going to call her?’ He reappeared, holding two wine glasses.

‘All mine?’ She frowned.

‘You are keeping her, aren’t you?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, if you can’t I suppose I can get Sally to ring the dogs’ home, but they won’t be keen with all the care she’ll need, she’s really poorly. Needs some TLC and building up.’

‘Stop.’ Lucy held up a hand. Okay, she had been thinking about keeping the pup, after all hadn’t it been one of her thoughts as she’d stood in Jasmine Cottage? But it had just been a passing thought. ‘Just stop, I know exactly what you’re playing at. I’ll look after her for now, okay? Then we’ll find another home. And you can stop smirking.’

He grinned, and poured the wine. ‘You were really upset when Elsie Harrington told you that somebody else wanted that podgy retriever pup of hers.’ His tone was a gentle tease.

‘No I wasn’t!’ The last of Elsie’s litter of puppies had been adorable, and for the first time in years she’d actually started to wonder if a dog in her life might not be a bad thing.

‘You were. You got your sulky face on.’

‘I don’t have a sulky face.’

‘You did that I can cope, leave me alone, thing.’

‘Charlie!’

His grin broadened until the dimples appeared at the side of his mouth. ‘It’s okay,’ he leant forward, his broad, suntanned forearms resting on the table, ‘I know you’re a soft touch under that strict school teacher exterior.’

‘You’ll be getting detention if you don’t behave.’

‘Oh, yes please, now you’re talking.’ He chuckled, and the shiver of goosebumps shot down her arms again.

‘Stop being naughty!’

‘I can’t help it when you’re around.’ His gaze grabbed hers, held her, for a moment serious, and she couldn’t miss the meaning.

‘You’re bad.’

‘You make me that way.’ The husky tone made her wriggle in her seat. ‘You’re in so much trouble later.’

‘Promises, promises.’

‘You betcha.’ He touched the tip of her nose with one warm finger, shook his head then pulled away reluctantly and turned his attention back to the wine. ‘I know you didn’t want to give Elsie her puppy back, even though you wouldn’t admit it.’

Lucy tried to scowl, but he was right. He knew her too well. She’d grown quite attached in the few days that she’d looked after Elsie’s dog Molly, and her puppy. She was fairly sure that Elsie had been plotting to persuade her to home the dog, but when a neighbour was devastated by the loss of her own Labrador, Elsie had felt she had no choice but to offer her Podge, as Lucy had named him. But she’d decided it was for the best.

A tiny, malnourished runt of a puppy with mismatched eyes and an aptitude for projectile vomiting wasn’t for the best. Even if she couldn’t stop thinking about the animal.

‘She’s stopped being sick now.’ Charlie grinned, as though he’d read her mind.

She sighed. ‘I haven’t really got time though have I? Being sensible. Term starts in a few days, and there’s bound to be tons of work to do, and parents evenings and …’ and possibly a new home to renovate.

‘She’ll be good company for you.’ His voice was soft, but it hung between them. The unspoken agreement, she’d be company for her because he couldn’t be right now, he had Maisie. ‘Sometimes it’s better not being too sensible.’

‘I have got all the other animals.’

‘The other animals aren’t yours, they’re Annie’s. And anyway, a dog is different.’ He was right. A dog was different. The sound of Maisie and Roo filtered through from the garden. She’d played with her own dog Sandy when she was that age, and she’d been heartbroken to leave him behind when they’d moved. She’d sworn she’d never get attached to an animal in that way again. But maybe now was the right time.

Things had changed since she’d moved to Langtry Meadows. She’d changed.

‘So?’

She shook her head at him, but couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips. It was the right time. ‘Piper. I’m going to call her Piper.’

‘Let’s drink to Piper then.’ He raised his glass, his eyes seeming to assess her, and it was there, that moment when she knew that whatever happened, she’d always love him. She gave herself a mental shake. ‘You look like you need a drink, are you okay?’