Chapter 8
My conversation with Grandad George gave me plenty to think about.
I swiftly concluded that he was onto something when he had suggested that finding a new hobby or different pursuit to occupy my mind might be just the thing to stop me ricocheting between reminiscing about the past and fretting about the future.
But what could I do? It had been a long time since I’d had free time, and working out how to fill the plentiful empty hours I now had at my disposal was suddenly proving to be a fulltime occupation.
‘So, what are you up to today, Skylar?’ Rafe asked while we sat in the kitchen and ate breakfast on the Friday morning. ‘Now the weather’s cleared up a bit, you could further explore the Prosperous Place garden or maybe put in an appearance at the Grow-Well.’
I had mulled over the possibility of offering to help in the community garden but had held back for two reasons.
Firstly, I was no gardener and wouldn’t want to get anything wrong.
Freya had already said that there were certain areas getting out of hand and I wouldn’t want to make them worse by pulling up the wrong thing.
And secondly, there was the matter of a certain blue eyed Prosperous Place resident who I was still keen to avoid.
The less said about him and how often he slipped uninvited into my thoughts the better!
‘I’m not sure,’ I told my father as I took another bite out of a warm, buttery and jam smeared croissant, ‘but one thing I do know is that I won’t be heading back to Blossom’s again today. Having that bakery practically on the doorstep is far too tempting.’
With Rafe so engrossed in his writing, he had armed me with a shopping list at the beginning of the week and sent me out into the nearby street to pick up some food and drink.
Consequently, I had spent some time every day since getting to know the area and the shops located there.
There were lots of small businesses, including Greengages Grocers where Nightingale Square resident Poppy worked and Blossom’s the bakery which had yet another neighbour, Mark, behind the counter and filling the ovens.
Rafe had told me about Poppy and Mark before I made my first recce and suggested I should introduce myself if I saw them, but I hadn’t, even though they both wore name badges to identify them.
I had started to regret keeping quiet now because when I did finally meet them it might be awkward if they remembered serving me and it became obvious that Rafe had mentioned them, and I hadn’t then said hello.
There was also a busy coffeehouse on the same street, a packed vintage emporium and a second-hand bookshop.
From what I’d seen, the street was as idyllic as Nightingale Square.
The only place I hadn’t been in was a pub called The Dragon.
It was one of those old, dark buildings you could easily overlook, and I thought I might soon spend some time there but didn’t mention it to Rafe because I didn’t expect to end up there that day.
‘I agree about Blossom’s,’ Rafe said as he swallowed the last of his croissant. ‘My waistline doesn’t need any extra padding this early in the autumn. I don’t mind a couple of pounds going on over Christmas, but we’re still months away from that.’
Rafe had always been health conscious and made a point of staying fit and trim. I had wondered if that was the LA lifestyle rubbing off on him. If it had been, he’d obviously carried it back with him to the UK when he moved.
‘Well,’ I said. ‘I think you look fabulous.’ He appeared mollified by that. ‘And you’ll soon find somewhere to exercise again if you really want to.’
‘Um,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Lisa sent me a text a couple of days ago suggesting an afternoon walk around a lake with her during the week. She thought it might be just the thing to give us the chance to get away from the screen and discuss plot problems and timelines and so on. She said she often goes for a stomp around Whitlingham to think things through ahead of the school run.’
‘Right,’ I said, drawing the word out. ‘But I thought you preferred to keep your writing process and all the rest of it, to yourself?’
‘I always have in the past,’ he confirmed. ‘But perhaps it’s time for a change now I’m trying something new.’
I looked at him and frowned. He’d turned quite pink.
‘You are currently working on the crime novel you’re contracted to write, aren’t you?’ I quizzed.
‘I’ve actually got a couple of projects on the go,’ he said cagily. ‘You could come with me and Lisa if you like? Some brisk walking might be good for you, too.’
‘I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine on my own for now and besides, I wouldn’t want to hamper your creative conversation.’
He accepted that and rushed off to message Lisa and tell her he’d take her up on her offer beginning the following week and I swiftly got ready to head out before he tried to rope me into going with them again!
I wiled away the morning further exploring the shops and was just trying to make up my mind whether to walk back to the coffee shop or visit The Dragon, which I’d then arrived at, when the decision was made for me.
Heading briskly in my direction, as I dithered on the pavement outside the pub, was Erik.
I didn’t think he’d spotted me, so I quickly turned around, pushed the door open and ducked inside.
Had my heart not been trying to beat its way out of my chest, I would have been instantly charmed, but it was a minute or so, when I was certain that Erik must have passed by, before I could take in the interior of the place and appreciate its Lilliputian proportions.
As well as being small, it was rather dark, even though it was relatively bright outside and the place smelt comfortingly of woodsmoke though there was currently no fire burning in the grate.
The low ceiling was beamed, and I spotted a subtly backlit dragon sculpture scaling the wall that just had to be of Finn’s making.
‘It’s quite something, isn’t it?’ commented the man behind the bar as I walked closer and took the details of the dragon in.
‘The whole place is quite something,’ I said, turning to smile at him. ‘It feels like somewhere out of a fairytale.’
Finally mesmerised by the cosy atmosphere, I’d almost forgotten about Erik being somewhere in the vicinity.
‘We get told that a lot,’ the barman nodded. ‘Either that or it reminds customers of The Prancing Pony in Hobbiton.’
‘Actually,’ I said, thinking of the film adaptations of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, ‘that is a better description.’
‘I take this is your first visit?’
‘It is,’ I confirmed. ‘Am I too early for a bite to eat?’
With the pub looking so lovely and remembering about there being the possible danger I could run into Erik along the pavement if I left, I decided to play it safe and stay put.
‘No, you’re fine. Here’s a menu, and while you’re having a look, can I get you a drink?’
I opted for a half pint of locally brewed bitter as it felt most befitting and settled at a table for two next to the fireplace in anticipation of the chips which came highly recommend, and a fresh Cromer crab sandwich.
‘So,’ the barman asked when he came back a couple of minutes after delivering the food to check everything was okay, ‘how are you finding it?’
‘Absolutely delicious,’ I told him. ‘It’s all divine, but the crab is sensational.’
‘Excellent,’ he smiled. ‘I’ll leave you to it then.’
The pub had filled up a little since I’d started eating and I felt thoroughly relaxed as I ate and watched the customers come and go.
Or I was feeling relaxed until the door swung open and Erik stepped inside, effectively filling up every inch of space that was left.
I hunkered down in my seat and attempted to become invisible.
Though it only then dawned on me that I really needn’t have worried about being spotted then or out on the street because given our track record he was hardly likely to seek me out for a cosy chat, was he?
Unfortunately, it turned out that I was wrong about that…
‘Skylar?’ I heard him say. ‘I thought I saw you a few minutes ago but then you just seemed to disappear.’
I looked up and found his blue eyes trained on mine and a frowned etched across his forehead, but I didn’t comment.
To be fair I was still chewing the last bite of sandwich so could be excused for not responding.
He was wearing another henley shirt, an unbuttoned navy one this time, and I wondered if he purposefully picked out his clothes to enhance the colour of his eyes.
‘So,’ he carried on in the face of my silence, ‘you’ve found The Dragon then…’
‘Apparently so,’ I said quietly, once I’d swallowed. ‘Is it a haunt of yours?’
Depending on his answer it might well end up being somewhere else I wanted to avoid.
That got me virtually crossing my fingers in the hope that he would say no it wasn’t his usual hostelry because I already loved the pub and would like to make it my local.
I’d never had one before but could imagine myself spending quiet afternoons here with a book and a beer as the autumn days grew chillier.
‘Erik!’ called the barman, which gave me an answer, but not the one I had been hoping for. ‘Pint of the usual?’
‘Just a sec,’ he called over and looked down at me again. ‘Freya told me earlier that you haven’t been back to the garden. She said she’d been expecting to see you because she thought you liked what you’d seen, but you hadn’t shown up. Though I suppose, she might have missed you…’
‘No, she’s right,’ I told him. ‘I haven’t been back.’
He raked a hand through his already unkempt blond hair and sighed.
‘And I’m guessing that’s probably my fault, isn’t it?’
I was almost tempted to say he thought a lot of himself, but given that he was right, I swallowed the words away.
‘Well—’ I began.