Chapter Fifteen
The moment Hattie had waved off Fiona and Nick she went into the back garden and sat in her favourite seat, turned her face to the sun and closed her eyes.
It was bliss. The sun was warm but not too warm and the silence broken only by birdsong was instantly calming.
She planned to stay there until she was so hungry she had to move, which might be quite a long way off.
She thought about Sheila and how awful it must have been for her, watching her beloved only child being ensnared by a coercive bully.
She thought about Lance, how angry he had been to have Fiona taken from him although he had never intended to be a proper, faithful husband to her.
She thought about Nick, her discerning client who was now a patient suitor, almost like a knight of old.
Then, inevitably, her brain turned to work.
Working for herself meant she never quite switched off and the wedding had been a distraction.
She stayed in the sun for a few more blissful minutes and then went inside to check her emails.
Try as she might, she was never as good at sitting still as she wanted to be.
There was one from a potential new client who had a detailed and very specific wish list. A grand period property.
A flat plot but with far-reaching views.
A cobbled stable yard, a wildlife pond that definitely had frogs in it, a small orchard to include Bramley apple trees, five acres of level pasture and good stabling.
The budget was about half of what would be required to find this unrealistic dream.
Rather than answer the email, Hattie decided to visit Mary, which meant visiting her own unrealistic dream home in the form of a cottage on a hill which had the views her potential client wanted. She picked flowers first, and retrieved some cheese scones from the freezer.
Hattie felt her old friend was a little frailer than usual and wondered if she was eating properly. She heated the scones and buttered them, wishing she’d brought more of them as Mary would insist Hattie ate them too.
‘Shall we sit in the garden?’ Hattie suggested. ‘It’s so lovely! I’m thinking of taking on a new client who wants exactly what you have with regard to views and an orchard.’
‘Well, I may not need this house for much longer,’ said Mary cheerfully. ‘You could sell her this!’
Hattie shook her head. ‘Sadly your stabling would be inadequate, and you lack a cobbled stable yard.’
Mary laughed, as she was supposed to. ‘I might as well hang on here a bit longer then.’
When Hattie had made the tea and brought everything out to the table and chairs that were perfectly placed to make the most of the views, she asked, ‘Is Clive not willing to let you move yet?’
Mary shook her head. ‘It’s not that I’m unhappy here, by any means.
I love this cottage, but it is a little large for me and needs more upkeep than I’m able to give it.
’ She raised a hand. ‘But of course I’ll ask you if I think I need a builder.
Clive is determined to get “top dollar” for it and probably wants to use his own man to do any necessary work.
’ Hattie could hear him saying this. ‘And it goes without saying, he doesn’t want me to move until the market is absolutely right. ’
‘The market is pretty good for properties like this, Mary. It’s a perfect spot. Near a village but rural, a good-sized plot but not unmanageable. It would be snapped up.’ She didn’t add ‘by me’ because she knew it would be beyond her means.
Mary regarded her. ‘I think we both know why Clive doesn’t want to sell really. He doesn’t want the value of this house going towards me being in a care home.’
‘It’s your house and your money, Mary! Would you like me to help you sell it? And with finding the care home?’
Mary shook her head. ‘It’s very kind of you, darling, but Clive owns half of this. I can’t sell it without his agreement.’
Hattie gasped. ‘Did I know that?’
‘I always try and forget it myself,’ said Mary. ‘I may not have told you.’ She seemed a little embarrassed. ‘To be honest he talked me into it years ago, which means I’m stuck. I keep hoping to persuade him to sell, but…’ She shrugged. ‘You do make wonderful scones, dear.’
Hattie laughed as best she could but she was furious – and depressed – at the thought of her old friend being in the power of a man like Clive.
Hattie stayed with Mary a bit longer than she had intended and the sun was fading as she headed for home. As she turned into the lane she saw a car parked a little way away. She stopped and reversed to where she could turn; she was almost sure it was Lance.
She headed for Luke’s, all thoughts of solitude abandoned. He would take her in. Now she thought about it she realised she had been mad to think Lance would forget about her. She had been a vital player in his public humiliation and he wouldn’t forgive her.