Chapter Ten
Ava woke feeling cold, the only warmth emanating from Myrtle as she lay heavily against her legs.
Black and grey embers filled the grate, where the glow of the fire had been.
Ava wiped her eyes realising she had fallen asleep on the hearthrug.
When Gino had left early in the evening, she had finished the wine and settled by the fire, eventually succumbing to the sobs that wanted to escape her.
Myrtle had sat by her side; concern etched in the dog’s large brown eyes as she snuggled in close in an attempt to offer comfort, while Ava cried herself out.
Fat tears had rolled down her face until her eyes stung, her throat hurt and her chest ached from the exertion.
When she could cry no more, sleep had been a welcome release from her throbbing head.
Standing was an effort — her back was stiff and her limbs too cold.
Wrapping herself in a fleece she had hanging in the hall, Ava went to the kitchen and poured herself a drink of water.
It eased her dry throat but did nothing to warm her up.
Realising the sun was rising, she pressed the button on the kettle.
Myrtle was standing at the door, looking livelier than she had on the previous day, causing Ava to smile despite her headache.
Deciding there was little point in going to bed, Ava looked at the dog. ‘How about a walk in the woods?’
Myrtle spun as if she understood the words, and Ava bent to stroke the soft fur at the back of her ears.
A hot shower, some warm clothes, and a cup of tea later, Ava wrapped herself in her coat.
Closing the front door, she and Myrtle made their way down the gravel path towards the village before taking their usual hedgerow detour into the grounds of Dapplebury House.
Once in the woods, Ava slipped off Myrtle’s lead, and the dog leapt around, bouncing on her paws as she enjoyed the freedom.
Ava stretched out her limbs. The chill, early morning air was enlivening and a tonic for her lack of a comfortable night’s sleep.
Following the line of trees, they walked towards the lake. Her head feeling clearer, Ava took the note she had found tucked into the back of the photograph album, from her pocket.
She read, tracing her finger across her mum’s handwritten words: “I’m sorry I’m not in more of your pictures as you were growing up. I was behind the camera. All of those beautiful smiles, you were giving them to me”.
Ava wiped her eyes before reading on.
“I love you, my beautiful, red-haired, strong-willed girl. Forgive the choices I made, and always remember that you were my special gift and my greatest accomplishment. Perhaps life would have been easier if we were less alike, but being feisty you get from me, and I wouldn’t want you to be any other way.
Never give up on your dreams and remember you are my girl, Ava Flynn. Xx”.
There was so much to take in. Ava had looked at the photographs of herself growing up.
She had seen the album many times before; as a teenager, she had considered the pictures of her childhood-self alone at the park, the beach, and at home, as evidence to her coming second best to her mum’s cause.
She had bucked against her, causing arguments where none were needed and in hindsight erroneously considering herself a greater victim than the animals her mum rescued.
And while she realised a long time ago that she had been selfish in her thoughts and actions, it was only after reading her mum’s words as she sat by the fire the night before, that she had seen the bigger picture.
Ava knew that since her dad died when she was two, her mum had raised her as a single parent, bringing up a strong-willed girl alone, while never giving up on fighting her own causes.
She wished she could tell her she knew that now.
And that she appreciated all she had done for her.
While they’d established a good relationship as Ava had got older, she never truly thanked her mum for all that she had done. And now, it was too late.
Anger welling inside — at herself for the wasted years, and at the loss of her mum — Ava began to run.
Feeling a surge of frustration she wanted to release, she screamed.
The piercing, primal sound echoed through the silent woods, causing birds to flee from the treetops.
Myrtle looked at her, her eyes wide, stunned by the unexpected noise.
The confused spaniel followed in excited pursuit.
Ava felt the cold air burning in her lungs as her rapid breaths became increasingly loud and ragged.
Her legs, uncooperative and heavy just an hour before, now carried her on swiftly through the dew-covered grass.
The trees went by in a blur, as her heartbeat thudded through her body.
Myrtle ran by her side, her head flicking between looking ahead and turning towards Ava.
Fixing her eyes on the lake in the distance, Ava pushed on.
The sensation was freeing. She was running too fast for rational thought.
Too fast to think about all that she would like to say to her mum; too fast to think about the weight of burden she felt at keeping All Critters Great and Small afloat; too fast to think about the never-ending mountain of donations at the shop, and — Oh God!
— too fast to do anything to avoid the man stepping out from the line of trees just feet ahead of her.
With the deft agility that came from being half a metre from the ground, and in possession of four paws, Myrtle darted out of the way, while Ava braced herself for impact.
Seeing the alarm in the man’s green eyes as if she were registering the situation in slow motion, Ava slammed into him, knocking him to the ground as the breath left them both.
Shocked at the abrupt stop as much as the fall, cushioned only by the fact she had landed on top of the man, it took Ava a moment to regain her faculties.
Embarrassment taking over, she cursed and began scrabbling up from the horribly awkward situation.
Myrtle ran around the unexpected scene in a frenzy of excitement, as Ava and the man disentangled their bodies.
Ava stood, attempting to gather herself together. ‘Are you crazy? What are you thinking just stepping out like that?’ she blustered.
Slowly getting to his feet, the man laughed, the unexpected response doing nothing to ease Ava’s anger.
‘Seriously?’ Her nostrils flared. She felt the beads of sweat on her temples prickle.
‘I’m sorry—’ The man, still doubled over with his hands on his hips, sounded winded. ‘I heard a scream . . . and came to see if everything was all right. I had no idea you were about to come . . . like a banshee, hurtling along from nowhere, on what is . . .’
‘Private property, I know,’ Ava retorted, flailing her arms in the direction of the woods.
She inhaled in readiness to continue, but as the man stood to his full height, flicking his fringe from his eyes, and offering the hint of a smile, no words came. Instead, Ava stood transfixed — recognition slowly dawning upon her.
Too much of the man’s face was covered by his beard, but she was sure it was him. ‘Henry?’ His name slipped out as a question. It had been so long since she had seen him.
‘Ava.’ Henry smiled, his green eyes — the colour of the ferns on the forest floor they used to play on — meeting her gaze and causing her breath to hitch.
Ava heard the rush of blood in her ears and felt her pulse thudding throughout her body, a stark contrast to the quiet woods and the calm manner of the man standing before her.
While he didn't seem surprised by her presence, she was trying to assimilate the Henry she had explored the woods with in their youth, with the man in front of her.
‘I can’t believe it’s . . . you’re back, and I’m’ — Ava put her hands to her face, feeling the heat in her cheeks — ‘Oh God! I’ve got puffy eyes, and I was running.
I’m a sweaty mess and my hair, it’s . . .
’ Realising she didn't need to point out her hair was a mass of wild curls from the shower, even before she started running, Ava bit her lip.
Henry attempted but failed to stifle a giggle. ‘Perfect.’
Ava looked at him, confused.
‘Your hair. It looks perfect.’ He leaned in closer to tuck her stray curls behind her ear. ‘It always looked perfect like this.’
Ava saw the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.
Feeling that she might melt on the spot if her cheeks burned any brighter, Ava welcomed the distraction of the dog, jumping up in an attempt to get their attention.
Feigning the need to get an excited Myrtle back under control, Ava looked away — taking longer than she needed, while her mind attempted to catch up with the unexpected turn of events.
The memory of the last time she had seen Henry, by the lake at Dapplebury House, came flooding back: the pleasure of the time they had shared, the touch of his soft lips on hers, and his mother’s anger at discovering them.
And now, well now he was back and all grown up, and she had not only knocked him over, but she had been lying prone against him as he lay on the damp grass.
It was all so unexpected. Over the years, knowing he had gone to boarding school and then hearing rumours that Henry had moved to Los Angeles, Ava had tucked all thoughts of Henry Bramlington to the back of her mind.
Living abroad meant he was at a safe distance, and if he returned on visits Ava knew it was unlikely that he, the heir to Dapplebury House and its estate, would be dropping things off to the local charity shop.
She and Henry belonged to the past. The two of them existed in another lifetime.
And yet, here he is, all grown up, and you were pressed—
Shaking her head, Ava reminded herself that attempting to regain her composure and decorum wasn’t going to be made any easier by recalling the firm mass of muscles she could feel beneath her as she had tried to disentangle herself.
In the days when they had skinny-dipped together, Henry had the lean body of an adolescent boy.
His muscles were defined but not developed.
Whatever he had been up to in his years away from Dapplebury, the firm body she could undoubtedly feel below her suggested it involved working out.
Having got the dog back on her lead, Ava took a breath, letting it out slowly, before turning to face Henry.
‘Sorry, about . . . about before. I didn't expect to see anyone, and you took me by surprise.’ Pleased with the fact she sounded a whole lot more sensible, Ava smiled and pushed her hair back from her face. That’s better, keep it light, breezy and breathe. ‘Why are you here?’
Henry laughed, a deep easy laugh that was matched by a mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘I live here.’ He grinned.
His words cut through Ava’s bravado, as she remembered where she was. ‘Yes . . . yes . . . of course you do. I’m sorry. Silly question. I should . . . I should go.’ Pulling on Myrtle’s lead, she took a step backwards.
‘No. Don’t go! I mean, please, stay. I’d like you to stay.’
Ava faltered, while her head told her she should leave, her feet seemed reluctant to receive the message.
Henry looked at her. ‘There are things I need to’ — he rubbed his hand through his beard — ‘things I should have said, and done, before now.’
Ava swallowed. Did he mean the things she hoped he would have said and done all those years ago?
There was a time when she longed for him to make a stand and defend her against his mother’s tirade.
But now, what was the point? She pulled her coat around herself a little tighter.
‘It was such a long time ago. Really it’s—’
Henry reached out and placed his hand over hers as she held Myrtle’s lead. It caused a sensation to ripple through her, Ava attempted to ignore.
‘I know. I do. But Ava, will you just give me a bit of your time? A chance to speak to you and then, well then I’ll leave you alone. If that’s what you want.’
Leave me alone. There were times when Ava craved peace and solitude, times when she longed to be left alone, but she had never felt that in Henry’s presence.
She had never wanted him to leave her alone.
She swallowed. ‘All right, but I don’t want to keep Myrtle out too long, she hasn’t been herself the last few days.
’ Ava congratulated herself on thinking clearly enough to give herself an excuse to leave, should she want to.
Having pricked up her ears at the sound of her name, Myrtle barked. Henry knelt to stroke her, causing the dog’s whole body to wiggle with excitement. ‘What do you say? Do you fancy a walk down to the lake?’ He looked up at Ava, lowering his voice. ‘Would that be all right with you?’
The hint of uncertainty in his tone made it clear he too remembered the last time they had been to the lake together. Ava pushed away an image of them kissing. Something she had reimagined many times on her walks, wondering how it would have played out if Lady Bramlington hadn’t discovered them.
Ava fiddled with the edge of the lead in her hand.
‘I don’t think I have a choice. You seem to have swayed Myrtle.
’ The dog, looking so animated, was doing nothing to corroborate her need not to have her out too long, but it was good to see her looking more like her old self.
‘I haven’t seen her this lively for days. I think you’ve gained a fan.’
‘She can probably smell her good friend, Granger.’ Henry smiled.
Alarm pricked at Ava’s nerves; Henry must have registered it and held up his hands.
‘I haven’t been stalking you or anything, honestly.’
Ava swallowed. The blush across his cheeks, and his words refuting the action, made her wonder if he had been doing precisely that. Ava reminded herself that while they had once been very close, the Henry standing before her was a stranger, and she should remember that. ‘Then how did you—’
‘Know that this one has a soft spot for Granger?’ Henry patted Myrtle and stood up. ‘I spotted you walking here, in the distance, a couple of weeks ago. Granger seemed to know you both pretty well.’
Ava felt her own cheeks colour. ‘I’m sorry. As I said, I do know it’s private property.’
‘Ha!’ Henry laughed. ‘Since when did that ever stop you? Come on. I’m sure you know the way to the lake, every bit as well as I do.’
Ava smiled at the reference to their conspiratorial past.