Chapter 4
Hannah frowned, rummaging in her jeans pocket for the list she’d managed to cobble together in the garden before she’d conked out.
‘Don’t tell me I lost it chasing that idiot sheep?!’
She patted her pockets one by one and finally located the crinkled scrap of paper she’d torn from the pad. Hannah laid it on the worktop and did her best to smooth out the creases.
‘Electricity on? Check—thanks to Mr Eaves! Water on? Check. Cleaning materials? Hmm...’
Hannah hurried over to the kitchen sink and glanced into the cupboards underneath.
Other than an ancient washing-up bowl and a tin of desiccated black shoe polish, there wasn’t anything useful.
Maybe she’d left the cleaning stuff elsewhere?
She started to hunt through the other cupboards, flinging open doors and then pulling out drawers.
Pots and pans.
Tea towels and candles.
Tins and jars.
‘EEW!’ She was staring at an open and slightly green-tinged pack of Rich Tea biscuits.
Okay, so perhaps she hadn’t been quite as thorough as she’d thought when it came to emptying the place of food at the end of that last visit. She shouldn’t really be surprised, though, should she? She’d not exactly been in the best frame of mind.
Reaching up, Hannah gingerly started to empty the contents of the cupboard onto the counter.
The tins of tomato soup were a bit grimy but would probably still be okay.
There were baked beans and peach slices too.
She’d have to check the dates, but they’d probably all be edible.
The half-bag of pasta with a clothes peg on top could go straight into the bin, though.
‘If I had any bin bags!’ she harrumphed, dumping the pasta onto the counter instead and quickly following it up with several half-used jars of jam, marmite and mixed herbs. There was a box of chamomile teabags that might still be okay, though…
Hannah flipped it open and wrinkled her nose. ‘Or not!’ she laughed, eyeballing the little spider that had taken up residence on top of the bags. Heading to the back door, she gently popped the open box outside to give her little squatter the chance to move out.
Hannah continued to work through the kitchen, dumping the contents of all the drawers and cupboards unceremoniously onto the work surfaces. After all, she had to start somewhere! Unfortunately, her kitchen adventure didn’t turn up any cleaning products or bin bags.
Maybe she’d taken it all with her? Well, it didn’t matter now. She’d just have to go shopping.
Taking her pencil out from behind her ear, Hannah flipped her to-do list over and started to scribble a shopping list on the back.
Bin bags. Cloths. Bleach. Spray. Washing-up liquid. Hoover bags.
‘What else?’
Hannah flipped the paper again, looking for inspiration and placing a giant tick next to the words “sort out garden.” She pulled herself up short when she started to doodle little hearts and bees.
What was she doing?
Scribbling out the drawings with deep, dark lines, she glanced at the next thing on the list.
Landline?
Hannah raised an eyebrow. She’d cancelled her own landline several years ago, but she hadn’t even given the one at the Seabury house a second thought. There had definitely been one in Millie’s little study…
Hurrying along the hallway, Hannah let herself into the study. The room was piled high with boxes—mostly paperwork that needed to be shredded. On the far wall, there was an ancient, slightly yellowed telephone hanging above the desk.
That didn’t mean it was still live, though…
Hannah sidled between the boxes and perched on the edge of the desk. Grabbing the handset, she pulled gently at the tangled, curly wire so that she could hold it against her ear. Sure enough, there was a dial tone.
Okay, so this was definitely something she needed to sort out! She didn’t want to keep paying for it for all eternity! Still, it was good to know she had an emergency line to the outside world while she was there.
Replacing the handset, Hannah let out a long sigh. It was time to go and face the music upstairs.
Dragging her feet, Hannah took the steps at a snail’s pace.
She was clearly too tired to even consider going shopping this afternoon.
Luckily, thanks to Mr Eaves and his thoughtful delivery, she didn’t have to.
There would be enough in the box along the tins she’d found to tide her over until the following day…
though it was still a complete mystery how he’d known she’d be back.
Hannah shrugged and picked up her pace as if she was trying to outrun his kindness.
And was that a little flickering flare of warmth in her chest?
Nope! She wasn’t there to catch feelings—for him, or this house, or even Seabury, come to that! All she needed to do was stay put for the requisite two weeks, clear out the house, say her goodbyes, and then skedaddle back to the capital…
‘And real life,’ she muttered. Such as it was.
The reality was—her life was still in tatters.
The divorce had left Hannah feeling empty.
Depleted. Back to square one. All her friends seemed to think she should feel liberated—finally free to chase her dreams now that she’d got rid of the anchor that was her belligerent ex-husband.
But if she was being honest, Hannah didn’t really know where to start.
Her dreams had been on hold for a very long time.
Hannah’s hand flew to the necklace at her throat, holding on tight to the silver acorn pendant with its tiny emerald.
Her dreams might have been on hold, but she’d not forgotten about them.
This necklace was one of the pieces of jewellery she’d made in the final year of her silversmithing course.
One of the last pieces she’d ever made. Because she’d met Gareth, and “real life” had happened.
He’d pointed out that she’d never amount to anything special as a designer… so what was the point even trying?
At least there was one positive change she’d managed since the split.
Hannah had left the boring admin role she’d stuck with for years and found a job with a large high-street jewellery chain.
It wasn’t exactly perfect—she spent most of her days fixing chains and re-sizing rings…
but at least it was a tiny step in the right direction.
Hannah winced as she remembered Gareth’s reaction when he’d found out about her new job. He’d laughed. Right in her face.
‘Urgh! Get out of my head!’ she growled, wandering into the master bedroom and doing her best to yank herself back into the present.
Spotting the rolled-up magazine she’d left on the windowsill earlier, Hannah hurried over and grabbed it.
After Mr Eaves’s kindness, the sight of her makeshift bee-dispatcher made her feel more than a little bit guilty.
She quickly unrolled it and popped it back onto the nightstand where it had come from.
There wasn’t a sign of a single bee in there anyway, and the open windows had already started to clear the air.
It hadn’t done anything to clear the depressing neutral tones, though!
‘Nope,’ she muttered. ‘I’m not staying in here.’
Backing out of the room, Hannah headed for the single bedroom next door. Taking a deep breath, she cracked open the door and peered inside.
So… this was where all the good memories were hiding!
Hannah remembered piling as many of her aunt’s belongings in there when Gareth had laid siege to the master bedroom. The sight of them now brought a smile to her face, even though they were crammed into every available nook and cranny.
At least the tiny single bed was clear, though. It had been stripped, but one of Aunty Millie’s hand-knitted patchwork blankets lay folded on the pillows.
Hannah squeezed through the piles of boxes and pieces of stacked furniture to peep out of the window. This one looked right out over the back garden and afforded a beautiful view of the old maple tree’s rich red canopy. She could see right down to the end of Mr Eaves’s garden, too.
A small smile appeared on Hannah’s face as her eyes came to rest on several large hives. So, the bees were still there, then?
‘Why are you smiling, idiot?!’ she tutted, cracking open the window before drawing the curtains and sneezing as they let out a puff of dust.
Well, it was decided. This would be her room for the next two weeks. Hannah wasn’t entirely sure it was such a great idea to be so thoroughly surrounded by Aunty Millie’s things, but it had to be better than the beige nothingness of the master bedroom!
If she was honest, it would have been much easier if she could have stayed at the hotel while she was in town. It would have been simple to travel up to the house each day to work on cleaning and clearing the place.
Simple and a lot less emotionally draining!
Unfortunately, it was precisely the kind of thing Aunty Millie had stipulated against in her will.
‘How would she even know, though?’ muttered Hannah, rummaging around in the blanket box at the end of the bed for a set of clean sheets.
That wasn’t the point, though, was it? As much as she hated the idea of staying in this house where so many memories swirled around her—both good and bad—Hannah loved her aunt far too much to go against her final wishes.
‘Even if they are a bit random.’