Two
Now
“In a quarter of a mile, turn right.”
Sally glanced at the GPS display to the left of the steering wheel and checked the turning. She shook her head. It didn’t look right at all.
“Now turn right.”
She did as the electronic voice dictated but knew instinctively that something had gone horribly wrong.
“In 150 yards, you will reach your destination.”
As her little car hobbled and bumped down the overgrown, pot-holed lane, the air inside turned blue as every cuss word known to man was uttered.
“You have reached your destination.”
‘I don’t bloody think so, love!’ Sally growled, cringing as she rumbled over an unseen cattlegrid, the weeds under and around it so high, it was hidden from view.
‘Oh, for the love of…’
An old wooden gate, hanging on by half a hinge, leant drunkenly over the grass verge, making the already narrow lane even narrower. Sally held her breath as she eased Frida the Focus through the gap.
By the breadth of a cat’s whisker, she made it and peered ahead, trying to spot a place where she could turn around and work out where the directions had gone wrong. Finding Lower Ditchley shouldn’t have been this hard.
The lane swung round to the right and there, in front of her, loomed a house. A dark, decrepit, hovel of a house.
She drove closer and seeing there was enough space to do a U-turn, she parked up, letting the engine idle while she pulled the address details out of her handbag.
‘Oh, you dozy mare! Maybe putting in the CORRECT postcode might help!’
Where she should have put a “G”, she’d accidentally tapped the “T” above it, hence her now sitting in the middle of nowhere.
She retyped the details and waited for the GPS to work out the new coordinates, looking at the house in front of her as she did so.
The old, moss-covered roof was patchy and dipped in the middle. The paintwork was peeling and some of the upper-half render had also come away, exposing the brick underneath. There was a raised porch which looked like it wrapped around the left-hand side of the building but it was difficult to be sure as nature had claimed back the land it once owned and vast bushes were growing up the sides of the house.
The large windows, which she always felt were the eyes into the soul of a home, were dirty and bleak despite their beautiful bay design. Beyond the panes, she could just about make out lace net curtains which hung at odd angles and only served to enhance the desolation the building emanated.
Her curiosity now piqued, she switched off the engine, stepped out of the car and made her way gingerly up the wooden steps, taking care to keep to the edge where there was less chance of her going through the rotting wood, while wondering if anyone still lived here although the vibe she was picking up said no, as there’s a type of stillness that comes when no other humans are around and this was the sensation she was feeling.
Testing each board as she went along, she came to the vast front door. It was a solid piece of wood adorned with old-fashioned cast-ironwork. She tried the handle and was disappointed to find it locked. Glass panels were fitted on either side but they were too dirty to see through. She bent down, pushed open the solid, black letterbox with the word “Letters” engraved upon it and peeked through the aperture. Unfortunately, the exercise was pointless in satisfying her curiosity as little was revealed within the dark hallway inside.
‘I wonder if I’ll be able to see in through the windows…’ she muttered, walking over to the large bay on her right.
Sally took a tissue from her pocket and with a little bit of spit, cleared a hole in the grime. She used her hands to create a shield around her eyes and tried to see into the room on the other side. With some difficulty, she was able to make out what appeared to be a large room with a beamed ceiling, wooden floor, and wallpaper hanging off the wall.
Just as she was about to wipe the window again, her mobile started ringing in her pocket, splitting the air with its shrill tone and making Sally jump. She quickly pulled it out and answered it.
‘Hi Karen, sorry, I’m going to be a little late. I put the wrong postcode in the GPS and I’m now in the middle of nowhere. I’m just about to turn around and should be with you in about ten minutes or so.’
Surprised at her reluctance to leave, she made her way back to the car, turned and began the bumpy drive back to the main road.
As she squeezed past the wonky gate for the second time, Sally noticed an old wooden sign which had fallen over into the long grass. She got out of the car for a closer look and could just about make out the faded, painted words.
Bramblebush Farm.
‘Ohhhhhh, so good! I needed that, it’s blooming freezing out there.’
Sally took a large sip of the mocha coffee which had just been placed in front of her. She’d been looking forward to this lunch as she hadn’t seen Karen for ages – the downside of her best mate having moved to London when she got married.
‘Happy birthday, how does it feel to be forty?’
‘Absolutely no different to how it felt being thirty-nine!’
‘Have you got any plans for this evening?’
‘Goodness, no! I want this day to pass without any fuss. Seeing you is the only celebration I need.’
Karen leant over to squeeze her hand.
‘And in true Sally style, you did it by getting lost! Where did you end up?’ she asked as she got to work on her lunch of quiche and salad.
‘Some old farm about fifteen minutes from here. Although, if the driveway was in better nick, it would only be ten minutes!’
‘Did you see someone to give you directions?’
‘No, it was totally deserted. I made the satnav do the work.’
‘Deserted, eh? Are you sure? We’ve all seen the horror movies of innocent young girls arriving at deserted old farmhouses only to end up being kidnapped by the monster in the basement, never to be seen again.’
Karen waggled her eyebrows and Sally laughed before taking a bite of her cheese and ham toastie.
‘Thankfully, I don’t watch those kinds of movies otherwise I may not have been so keen to get out of Frida and have a nosy.’
‘You didn’t!’
‘I did!’
‘You’re a better woman than me then, Sally Edwards!’
‘There was something about it, Karen. It didn’t feel scary. It felt more… sad, I suppose. It felt… unloved.’
‘Oh, away with you. Houses don’t give off feelings.’
‘I dunno… some do. This one definitely did.’
‘You always were the fanciful sort. Anyway, how are things? How’re you doing?’
‘I’m okay, thanks.’
‘Are you still working in the supermarket, stacking shelves?’
‘No.’
‘No? You’ve moved on?’
Sally gave a small smile at Karen’s hopeful tone.
‘Yeah. I now work on the tills!’
‘Oh, Sally! Why? Don’t you think it’s time you went back to doing what you used to do best?’
‘What? Being someone’s PA? Being bossed about, bawled out when they make mistakes, and getting run ragged sorting out their crap? Thanks, but no thanks.’
‘But you’re so good at organising things. My hen night is the stuff of legend thanks to you. You deserve better than working in a supermarket.’
Sally felt herself bristle at this comment.
‘Karen, there is nothing wrong with working in a supermarket! It’s an honest job with honest pay and I won’t have anyone looking down on me or anyone else who works in that environment.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that. I simply meant you have skills which you’re not utilising and that’s a waste.’
‘I like it. It gets me out of the house, no one asks questions, no one showers me with pity and as long as I’m pleasant to the customers, no one bothers me.’
‘But Sal, it’s been three years since Steve… you know—'
‘Died, Karen. He died! You can say it, I’m not going to turn into a blubbering lump lying prostrate across the table.’
‘I…’ Karen stopped and looked at her.
‘I’m sorry, Karen. I’m just tired of people still walking on eggshells around me. Yes, I was pretty much a zombie for those twelve months afterwards but everyone knows that’s when it’s hardest – you have to deal with all the “firsts” – the first birthday without him, the first anniversaries, the first Christmas. Mind you, having to deal with the court case didn’t help; it felt like I had to hold on tight to myself until it was over and I could give in to the grief. In all honesty, it delayed much of the pain so the “seconds” weren't any better but I knew I’d already coped once and I could do so again. I’m now onto the “thirds” and trying to find my way forwards and move on but people don’t seem willing to let me despite regularly telling me it’s what I need to do.’
‘I’m sorry. I’m a shit mate.’ Karen put her hand on top of Sally’s and gave it a squeeze.
‘You’re anything but a shit mate. You’re the only person I feel safe saying all that to – if I’d spoken so openly to anyone else, they’d be stomping out of here in a right huff. And, talking of here, how did you find this place? I love it!’
Sally looked around the beautiful Victorian tearoom with its glorious cast-iron beams and sunny conservatory. She’d had to walk through a rather pretty bookshop to reach it and had noticed some stairs leading up to an antiques place above. A room she fully intended to have a look around before she left.
‘My mum told me about it. She joined Gran on one of her coach trips last month and this was one of the locations they stopped off at. When we agreed to meet today somewhere between London and Birmingham, this place immediately came to mind.’
‘I like it. It has a lovely relaxing ambience.’
‘Sod the ambience; did you see the three-tiered chocolate cake when we placed our order? I’m having some of that, even if I have to jog back to London to work off the calories.’
‘In that case, I may have to join you but you can beggar off if you think I’m jogging anywhere! You’re on your own with that one.’
When the waitress came to clear their table, they were giggling like the schoolgirls they’d been when they’d first met.