Seven
I’m not sure I believed in good omens, or magic (although that week with Sam ten years ago was definitely magical) or even in Destiny, but it was as if the stars were aligned as I packed up my car the next morning and headed towards Fairlight Bay and the tiny hamlet of Midwinter.
The rain we’d had all week had stopped and the sky was the bluest of blues without so much as a puff of cloud in sight. The sun, which had been noticeably absent for some time, was not only shining brightly, it was warmer than it should have been for the time of year. It might’ve been the start of the second week in February, but the air was spring-like and the cold winds of the previous week had blown themselves out. I even had my window open for part of the journey.
I had left my home at ten having calculated that the latest I’d arrive was twelve, even if I hit traffic. It was eleven thirty-five when I saw the ‘Welcome to Fairlight Bay’ sign beside the road.
I had printed out the directions, having been advised that as Midwinter was so small, not all navigation systems seemed able to find it, and most gave directions to Midwinter Farm which was in the valley below on the leeward side of Midwinter Ridge. There were three cottages high up on Midwinter Ridge, one of which was the one I’d booked, and there was only one lane that led to the cottages. Midwinter Lane was absent from several road maps so I wasn’t going to take any chances.
I arrived at a junction with three signposts and three roads ahead. One pointed to Fairlight Bay, one to Midwinter Farm, and the third to Midwinter Ridge. I was to take the third and then, after about half a mile I would see a small sign for Midwinter Lane. If I missed that, I would end up skirting the back of the town of Fairlight Bay.
As I seemed to be the only vehicle on this road, or should I say lane, which was what this one was, I drove slowly. Even so, I nearly missed the sign and had to brake hard and reverse back a little to turn into Midwinter Lane. Thank goodness it wasn’t dark or raining. I’d never have spotted that sign.
I remember Sam telling me all those years ago, that Midwinter Ridge was the group of hills that rose behind Fairlight Bay, sheltering it from the worst of the winter winds from the North, and that they were also known as the fire hills. This was because the wild gorse bushes that grew on the seaward side were covered in a blanket of yellow-gold blooms in the spring, giving the appearance of being on fire. It was too early yet to see this display but within a few weeks the hills would be transformed.
Sam had also told me that Midwinter Ridge could be reached by foot from almost anywhere along both the seaward and the leeward side of the hills, but I’d now discovered that the only way to reach the three cottages that stood on the ridge, by car, or any other vehicle, was via Midwinter Lane.
The first part of the lane was fine, but I could see the rest of it was far too narrow for cars and was unadopted. It was made up of sandstone, rocks, and rubble with the odd smattering of tarmac dotted here and there and I was more than a little relieved that I didn’t have to drive on that. I took the turn off for the allocated car parking area which I had been told was opposite the cottages. This was clearly a much more recent addition and it had been tarmacked, I was pleased to see.
I pulled up beside three other vehicles, one of which was a van and bore a sign with Alec Richman, plumbing and heating engineer, on the side. I hoped he wasn’t dealing with a heating or plumbing problem in the cottage I was renting. But then I recalled being told that the boyfriend of the woman who lived in Middle Cottage, the centre of the row of three, was a plumber, so that was a relief. I couldn’t recall the woman’s name though.
I got out of my car and took in the vista before me. But it was chilly up here, so I opened the rear door and grabbed my faux fur jacket, the scarf that Erin had bought me for Christmas, and my black leather gloves from the back seat, and put them on to keep out the cold. Then I soaked up the view once more.
The hills of Midwinter Ridge were as impressive as I remembered, and the rooftops and buildings in Fairlight Bay below, glowed in the morning sunshine. The sea was a greeny-blue and it sparkled as if Neptune had cast a net of flashing fairy lights across the glass-like water.
My mind drifted and I wondered if Sam was somewhere down there in Fairlight Bay, and if so, what he might be doing, but I quickly pulled myself together. I wasn’t here to think about Sam Worth.
I turned my back on the town and looked at the cottages. All three were bathed in sunshine and all three looked equally welcoming. They were also remarkably similar, each one having a tiled roof with two stubby chimneys either end, and three casement windows built in. The ground floors of each cottage had two larger casement windows either side of a central front door, framed by a stone pediment, one of which had been painted a fawn colour to match the facade. That one had a brown front door and when I spotted the red post box by the garden fence, I realised it was Far Cottage, the one in which I would be staying. The cottage next door was painted a bright fuchsia with a lime green front door, and the third was a soft grey with a black front door, each cottage garden separated by low hedges and edged with wooden rail fences.
Midwinter Brook separated the cottages from the car park and an old wooden footbridge stood over the babbling brook. The water looked cold and yet beautiful as it danced over the rocks, and pulled at the reeds running along the edges. A Canada Goose attempted a landing and then thought better of it, its massive wings flapping so close to me that I could feel the breeze on my face, as it flew up into the clear blue sky, before turning to give it a second try.
The brook ran close by the row of cottages and I was aware that it was a tributary of Midwinter River which was about two miles away. The river cascaded down one side of Midwinter Ridge, then flowed past Midwinter Farm, before it curved back around the foot of the hills and made its way through Fairlight Glen and then skirted the town on its way to the sea.
I remembered Fairlight Glen so well. It was a beautiful area of woodland and shrubs in which Sam and I had … No. I must not think about Sam. And definitely not about what we had done in Fairlight Glen.
I shook off that memory as fast as I could, and studied the cottages. I had no idea who had built them, or why whomever it was, had chosen such a high and exposed place to do so, away from the town, and yet visible from almost anywhere in Fairlight Bay, but I remembered Sam telling me they had been farm cottages originally, dating back to the Middle Ages. They were rebuilt in the early 1800s to replace the former, much smaller dwellings.
All the land for miles around had once been part of the ancient, Midwinter Farm, but most of it had been sold off. Looking at the map and online information, the farm was little more than a smallholding now, consisting of a few fields of sheep and cows, some chickens and ducks, and a rather grand Elizabethan Farmhouse that had also replaced the original.
I got my bags from the car and walked over the footbridge. I’d expected it to be rickety as it looked rather old, but it didn’t even creak as I made my way across and headed towards my home for the next seven days.
Far Cottage. Not an especially appealing name, but the online photos I had seen of the interior, made it look warm, welcoming, and romantic. It could also hold its own against any other property in one of those home design magazines.
The owner had told me via email that she and her partner, who was a property developer, had recently refurbished the entire cottage. So recently in fact that she joked that the paint might still be wet. At least I hoped she had been joking. It was apparent from the photos that they had spared no expense, although she hadn’t said so.
But she had added, during a subsequent phone conversation, that she had lived there herself until a few days before Christmas, when she had moved into her partner’s cottage, just two doors away.
‘So if you need anything, you don’t have far to come to ask me,’ she had said.
Her name was Adele and her partner’s name was Marcus. She clearly liked to talk because she also told me that it had been her partner’s idea for her to rent her cottage out and that I would be the first person to occupy it.
‘Wow,’ I had said, somewhat surprised. ‘I hope I don’t put you off doing so again.’
I realised too late that I shouldn’t have joked about that, but she merely laughed.
‘Oh no,’ she informed me. ‘I need the money. I lost my job as head baker and pastry chef at a swanky hotel a few years ago and now I work as a waitress at Fairlight Bakes Café, in Fairlight Bay. The money isn’t as good as I was used to but the owners are lovely. Marcus has offered to help me out, but I want to pay my own way. Do you have a boyfriend?’
‘Yes,’ I had said, as I was dating Ted when I’d booked. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to tell her that it would only be me after we had split up, but she’d find out soon enough.
‘You’ll have seen there are three cottages here on Midwinter Lane,’ Adele had continued. ‘Obviously, Far Cottage is where you’ll be staying, and Marcus and I live in End Cottage. Our friend, Noelle lives in Middle Cottage. She moved in just over a year ago in December. She’s such a lovely person and we all get on splendidly. Her boyfriend, Alec is a plumber and he’s a good friend of both Marcus and me. Noelle owns Midwinter Cottage Decorations, an online business that she runs from her kitchen selling handmade decorations for all events and all seasons. She also rents a stall at the Fairlight Bay Market which is held every Thursday throughout the year. You’ll find almost anything you could possibly want in that market, so I hope you find the time to visit it. I’ve typed out a list of places to go and things to see and do, but again, please just pop round and ring our bell if there’s anything you can’t find or that you want to do but it isn’t on my list.’
‘That’s so kind, Adele,’ I’d said, astonished that she had told me so much. ‘I’ve been to Fairlight Bay before. It was ten years ago and I was only there for a week, but unless it’s changed a lot over the years, I should be able to find everything I need. If I can’t, I’ll be sure to ask.’
I had been tempted to ask if she or her partner knew Sam Worth, but it would’ve been a two-edged sword. If she’d said she didn’t, I’d simply have been disappointed, but if she had said she did, Sam might hear about me asking. And that was the last thing I wanted.
‘I’m looking forward to meeting you, Lucy,’ Adele had said. ‘You’re arriving on Saturday morning, is that right?’
‘Yes. I only live about sixty or so miles away, in Kingston upon Thames so it shouldn’t take me more than an hour and a half, depending on traffic and weather. I can call you if I’m held up or anything.’
‘No. Don’t worry. We’ll be here all day on Saturday. Just come and ring our bell at End Cottage, or, if you’d prefer, ping me a text once you reach the car park and I’ll come and meet you outside Far Cottage. It’s the one on the right as you face the cottages from the car park. The one with the red post box outside.’
Now, a pair of magpies landed on that post box and I smiled as I remembered that two magpies brought joy. Or so the rhyme predicted. They screeched a loud caw-caw-caw as I neared the fence and flew off before I reached them, but I could hear them chattering as I strolled up the front path. I remembered I was supposed to send a text when I arrived, so I dropped my bags on the ground at the front door, and did that.
Having sent the text, I peered through one of the windows, but only a second or two later, I saw from the corner of my eye, a woman in her forties, together with a man about the same age come out of End Cottage. I assumed they must be Adele and Marcus and I was obviously correct.
‘Hello, Lucy,’ she called out and waved. ‘I’m Adele and this is Marcus. Did you have a good journey?’
‘Yes thank you,’ I called back, as the door of Middle Cottage opened and a very pretty woman in her thirties, a handsome man not much older, and a young girl, stepped outside.
‘Oh, hello.’ The woman greeted me with a friendly smile. ‘You must be Lucy. We’re Noelle, Alec, and Melody.’ She pointed at all three of them in turn.
‘I’m Melody, not Noelle,’ the little girl clarified, grinning at me and placing her hands in Alec’s and Noelle’s.
‘Hello,’ I said, slightly overwhelmed to be meeting so many people at once. ‘Yes. I’m Lucy.’
Adele and Marcus hurried up the path towards me, exchanging greetings and smiles with their neighbours, as they did so. There was a key in Adele’s hand, dangling from a red ribbon, which she held out to me.
‘It’s lovely to meet you, Lucy. Here’s the key. Is your boyfriend still at the car?’ She glanced towards the car park.
‘Erm. No,’ I said, embarrassed that I was going to have to tell everyone that I no longer had a boyfriend. ‘Change of plan, I’m afraid. It’ll only be me.’ I took the key from Adele.
‘Oh,’ Adele said, looking concerned as she handed it over. She shot a look at Marcus as if she wasn’t sure what to say next, but he merely shrugged and smiled.
‘It’s okay,’ I added. ‘We’re still friends. Just bad timing.’
She gave a small sigh of relief, and smiled at me.
‘Tell us to mind our own business if you like,’ said Noelle, ‘but we’re a friendly bunch so if you want some company just knock on our doors. But if you want your privacy, that’s fine too. Welcome to Midwinter. Sorry we have to dash. We promised to take Melody out for pizza and the booking is for noon. Parking in town on a Saturday takes time. We’ll see you later.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Have a good lunch.’ And then I smiled at Adele and Marcus as they waved their neighbours off. ‘Thank you, Adele. The cottage looks lovely. It’s great to meet you both.’
Marcus beamed as he wrapped an arm around Adele’s waist. ‘Great to meet you, Lucy. We hope you enjoy your stay. And we agree with Noelle. Don’t be a stranger. Unless you want to be. Seriously, if there’s anything we can do to help you have an enjoyable time, just let us know. If you’d like to join us for a glass of wine, later, pop round at six-ish, but if you’d rather do your own thing, that’s fine too.’
‘There’s a welcome pack in the kitchen,’ Adele added, ‘but I can show you around if you prefer.’
‘Thanks, but that’s okay. I’m sure I can find everything I need, and I promised to call my mum and my best friend the moment I arrived.’
‘We’ll leave you to it then,’ said Marcus, thankfully taking the hint, as he removed his arm from Adele’s waist and took her hand in his.
‘Don’t forget where we are,’ said Adele as Marcus led her back towards their cottage.
I opened the front door of Far Cottage, stepped inside, and placed my bags on the wood floor of the hall. They were all extremely kind and friendly people, but that had been a little overwhelming.
One thing was certain. I wasn’t going to be lonely in Midwinter.