Chapter 36
Beth lay back against the pillows, groggy and confused. Her head felt as if it was packed full of soggy cotton wool. Her arm was strapped across her chest, her shoulder throbbing despite a hefty dose of pain medication. It was good to see the children and know that they were coping in her absence, but someone was missing. Her eyes darted towards the gap in the curtains that separated the area around the bed from the rest of the ward.
‘Did you drive in by yourselves or did someone give you a lift?’
‘Lucy brought us in,’ said Rose. She sat next to the bed, with Grace on her knee.
Disappointment filled her at the thought that Rick hadn’t bothered to visit. She focused on what Grace was saying.
‘I’ve watched Moana , Frozen and The Little Mermaid for you and—’
‘Shall we show Mummy the cake you made her?’ Rose produced a plastic tub from her bag.
Grace pulled off the lid. ‘It’s got pink icing and glitter.’
‘Wow, that looks delicious.’ Beth’s gaze drifted to Jack and Daisy stood at the end of the bed. Jack looked pensive. Daisy had her arms crossed. ‘Is everything alright, you two?’
Jack shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘How long are you going to be in here?’
‘A few days, I think. They want to keep an eye on me because of my head.’
‘And your arm?’ He jerked his chin towards her shoulder.
‘It’ll heal, don’t worry.’
He grunted.
Daisy scowled. ‘Lucy is waiting outside. We’re not all allowed in at once.’
Grace slipped off Rose’s knee. ‘Paddy wanted to come, too, but he can’t because he is a dog.’
Rose stood. ‘If we go out now, Lucy will have time for a quick chat before we go home.’
Grace grinned. ‘Bye, Mummy. We’ll come back tomorrow.’
‘Bye, sweetheart. Thank you for the cake and for making me feel better.’ Beth smiled at the older three, while resisting the urge to ask if they had seen Rick. ‘Sorry I’m such a nuisance.’
‘Huh!’ snorted Daisy. ‘I’ll go get Lucy.’
Jack followed.
‘Is Daisy alright, Rose?’ asked Beth.
Rose shrugged. ‘Daisy is just being Daisy. We all got really scared for you. Her, too, only she doesn’t want to admit it. She’ll be fine.’
Lucy tiptoed up to the bed as Rose left. ‘Hi, I won’t stay long. How are you?’
‘Don’t ask.’ Beth groaned.
‘Is it true you can’t remember what happened?’
‘Nothing after I left the village. Not until I came to, lying on the ground. Paddy was the first thing I saw.’
‘That’s weird. Does it feel weird?’
‘It’s a pain in the backside is what it is.’
‘How do you mean?’
Beth’s eyes filled with traitorous tears. ‘I need to be getting on with setting up the well-being centre and sorting things out.’
Lucy tutted and gave Beth’s uninjured arm a gentle squeeze. ‘It can’t be helped. The well-being centre will just take a little bit longer. We’ll get there. I’ll sort out the planning permission forms. I can bring them in here if you need to sign them. But other than that, you need to put all your focus on getting better. I’ll help with the children. As soon as they discharge you, we’ll get our heads together and come up with a plan for everything else.’
*
A week later, a full twenty-four hours after being discharged from hospital, Beth stood just inside the stables and stared at the piles of junk. With her arm still firmly strapped across her chest and likely to remain so for the foreseeable future, the idea of clearing the space seemed impossible.
She wandered out onto the drive and forced herself to take several deep breaths, trying to stop her gaze drift to the barn. The hollow sensation in her middle, the one that had materialised when Jack had told her Rick had packed up and gone without leaving a message, throbbed almost as much as her broken collarbone. It was like a permanent punch to the gut. How could one extremely annoying man cause so much angst? It was ridiculous. She had had a lucky escape. Rick clearly had a habit of disappearing whenever life got tough.
Forget him. Good riddance. I have enough to do without pandering to a… a… weak-willed Wolverine.
How come she missed him so darn much?
She stumbled over to the mounting block and perched on the edge just as she heard the throaty roar of a sizeable petrol engine. A Hell’s Angel, all reflective sunglasses and fringed leather, steered a vintage wartime motorbike – complete with sidecar – across the gravel and pulled to a halt before her. A rounded figure in a pink boiler suit and a matching helmet with the visor pulled down sat bolt upright in the sidecar. It was such an unexpected sight that Beth began to wonder if she had taken too much pain relief. The Hell’s Angel dismounted, helped his passenger alight, then hopped back on the bike and rode away. As the roar of the engine faded, the new arrival removed their helmet.
Beth hadn’t thought it possible for her spirits to sink any lower. ‘Barbara!’
‘Beth.’ Barbara slung the strap of her helmet over her forearm like a handbag and fluffed out her hair. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be—?’
‘Resting? Yes, I know, but the bank isn’t going to wait for me to heal. I don’t see that I have any choice other than to keep going.’
‘It’s just as well Rose rang me, then. I can see I’m just in time.’
‘Did she?’ Traitor . ‘In time for what?’
‘To rescue you from yourself.’
‘I don’t need rescuing.’ Even with her hackles up, Beth failed to inject the words with her usual degree of defiance. ‘Please don’t start on me, Barbara. I haven’t the energy to fight you.’
‘Excellent.’ Barbara pulled a pink silk scarf from her pocket and tied it around her hair à la Audrey Hepburn. ‘Because I am not here for a fight. I’m here to help.’
‘Why? We don’t even like each other.’
‘We got off to a bad start. And most of that was me, I admit it. Call me what you will – bombastic, opinionated, a bloody-minded meddler. Believe me, I’ve heard it all and a lot worse besides, but I’ll not stand idly by while another person is in trouble. Not if I can help.’
Beth didn’t know what to say to that.
‘You and I might not see eye to eye on many things, but I respect you. My Brian always says I’ve far too much energy for my own good – which is all to the good today, because I’ve the four limbs that the good Lord gave me and plenty of time on my hands. I suggest we get started.’
‘Started with what?’
Barbara’s eyebrows rose. ‘How hard did you hit your head? I’m here to clear the stables for you.’
‘That’s incredibly kind of you, but it’s a massive job.’
‘Not to worry.’ The older woman pushed the stable door wide and disappeared inside.
Beth lurched to her feet. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Letting the dog see the rabbit. Oh my… yes, I see. Never mind. The others will be here soon, of course.’
‘What others?’
Barbara flashed her a wicked grin. ‘I rounded up a posse. Aha. Look.’ She pointed down the track. ‘Here they are now.’
A yellow 2CV and a blue-and-white VW camper van picked a careful route through the potholed surface and parked. Reena emerged from the car and several crafty crochet members spilt out from the camper van, all chatting at once and asking Beth how she was feeling. The positivity and encouragement from all sides was overwhelming and so unexpected that Beth blinked back tears.
Barbara clapped her hands. ‘Right, team. Our mission is to empty the stables. And Beth is going to rest like the doctor ordered.’
‘But—’
‘But nothing. Our help is conditional on you behaving. You get to sit and supervise. Nothing more. Reena, did you bring that comfy camping chair?’
Reena dashed forward with a canvas bag. ‘Where would you like it?’
‘Just inside the door. You’ll be able to see everything from there while you direct us, Beth.’
In seconds, the chair was positioned. Grateful that she was being given the option to have some control over proceedings, Beth sat. She was in the hands of a monster, but she wasn’t daft enough to refuse the help. ‘Thank you.’
Barbara smiled. ‘You’re welcome. Now, try to relax. My Brian says you can’t take risks with amnesia. Did the doctor say how long it might last?’
‘Apparently, my memory could return at any time. Or never.’
‘It’ll come. My Brian says you need just the right trigger.’
Beth didn’t dare suggest that Barbara’s Brian might have watched a few too many medical dramas, but the rebellious thought tiptoed across her mind.
*
Several hours later, the majority of the working party sat in the back garden enjoying a rest and a well-earned cup of tea. Beth stood on the drive with Rose and Barbara, examining a series of organised piles.
‘It’s surprising how much of this stuff is actually useful,’ mused Beth, waving her good hand at a pile of disassembled furniture. ‘But why on earth are there so many tables and chairs?’
‘No idea,’ said Rose, ‘but they’ve given me an idea.’
Beth narrowed her eyes. ‘What?’
‘A tearoom. We could sell teas and coffee and cake to the people coming to the well-being centre?’
‘It’s not a bad idea,’ said Barbara. ‘Another income stream from the same customers. Makes good business sense.’
Beth shook her head. ‘I don’t even have planning permission for the centre yet. I’m not sure I can cope with trying to set up anything else.’
‘You don’t have to,’ said Rose. ‘I’ll do it. I applied for the licence to make food for the public for my cakes, like you suggested. This is just one step on.’
‘I don’t know. Where will people sit? I mean, yes, we have tables, but where do we put them? I’ve promised all the space in the stables to Lucy for crafting.’
‘You’ve a huge patio out the back,’ suggested Barbara. ‘And a lovely view of the forest.’
‘That’s all fine and dandy when the weather is good, but what about winter? Or when it rains?’
‘We could get an awning. Or if we start making money from the well-being centre, maybe we could build a log cabin. Please don’t just say no,’ Rose pleaded. ‘I really want to do this.’
Beth rubbed her damaged shoulder. ‘I want to say yes. I really do. But let me think about it. Just for a bit. In the meantime, what are we going to do with all this other stuff? Rick said… oh.’ For a moment, she’d forgotten to miss him. She took a deep breath and forced her voice not to wobble. ‘Rick said we could use his dairy to store stuff, but, of course, he’s left now. Can I assume it’s still alright to use the space?’
‘Definitely.’ Barbara’s tone was brisk. ‘After all, a lot of this stuff is still useable. It would be criminal to throw it away. It needs recycling and that will take time to organise. I suggest putting it on Freecycle or you could post pictures on the village Facebook page, marked for sale. Remember to put that buyer collects.’
The thought of organising that on top of everything else was almost too much for Beth.
‘You’ve gone all white.’ Rose steered Beth back towards her chair.
‘My Finn’s a whiz on that eBay thingy,’ said Barbara. ‘He could sell stuff for you. You can split the profit with him. Shall I give him a tinkle?’
Beth nodded. If Barbara’s Finn could shift the junk on her drive, he was welcome to it.
*
An hour later, Lucy arrived and was impressed at how much progress had been made. With the stables clear, the posse started removing industrial-strength cobwebs and accumulated grime. Reena produced an ancient ghetto blaster and Shania Twain encouraged everyone to “Feel Like A Woman” at deafening volumes. Beth took more painkillers and filled in reams of council and funding paperwork on her laptop. The low growl of an engine cut through her concentration. A large, rusty van pulled up. Two gangly young men got out.
‘Finn.’ Barbara put down her broom and hurried over. She threw her arms around the taller of the two, squeezing so tight that Beth feared bones might break. ‘You came. And you brought Ramesh, too. How wonderful.’ Ramesh endured a similarly effusive greeting.
Finn, Beth learned, was Barbara’s youngest grandson and Ramesh, his boyfriend. In their early twenties and currently between jobs, they were surprisingly enthusiastic about flogging random stuff on the Internet and made short work of transferring salvageable items from the junk piles into the back of their van.
Beth shook her head in wonder as she watched the vehicle bounce its way back down the track. ‘I had no idea so much could be sold on.’
Barbara shook cobwebs off her feather duster. ‘My Brian says it’s all about timing. You need to be able to store stuff while you wait for the right person and the right price. Finn’s parents have several outbuildings he can use. A lot of forest properties do. You’d be surprised what people around here have tucked away out of sight.’
Barbara disappeared around the side of the stable.
Beth caught Lucy’s eye. ‘She makes it sound like there are dodgy deals going on all over the New Forest.’
‘Perhaps there are. She’s in charge of the village post office, don’t forget. She has access to all sorts of information.’
Beth snorted. ‘Barbara Trenchard, our very own Don Corleone.’
Lucy giggled. ‘Head of the Grandma Mafia. I’m telling you, she should be running the country, not the village shop.’
‘Hush, Lucy, she’ll hear you.’
‘Relax. I’m sure whatever she’s up to is totally legit.’ Lucy nodded towards the stable. ‘The good news is we’re almost done in here, ready for painting tomorrow.’
‘We’re painting tomorrow?’
‘You’re not painting anything tomorrow. And neither am I. Barbara has arranged for some of the local Explorers pack to drop by. They need to take part in a voluntary community project for some badge or other. This fits the bill.’
‘And the paint?’
‘Don’t panic. It’ll be cheap; a single layer of basic whitewash, not Farrow and Ball. George has some end-of-line stuff at the hardware store. He said we can have a nice fat discount.’
Beth nodded and sank down into her chair. Her arm ached. Her head throbbed. Her gaze drifted across to the barn for what felt like the millionth time.