Seven
Back in the car, Sally eased her way over the potholes towards the main road. Her last words to the house had sounded like a corny line from an Arnie movie – “I’ll be back” – but hers had been spoken softly and with love.
The problem she had now was finding and obtaining more information on the property. She could always go home and start with making an application to the Land Registry – she wasn’t sure how to go about it but hey, that’s what the internet was for. If you can learn how to plumb in a bath online, there will definitely be something to help you find out about unoccupied, derelict properties.
Or alternatively, she thought, as she sat at the T-junction, she could go into the village and see if anyone there could help her.
Her decision made, she flicked the indicator from signalling left to signalling right and had just started to pull out when something caught the corner of her eye. She stamped hard on the brakes, stalling Frida in the process, and peered closer into the shrubbery. It looked like a wooden post had fallen over and caught itself on the fencing.
A minute later, she was bent double across the fence, trying to yank the broken end of the pole away from the clutches of the long grass which had grown over it. Two minutes later, she’d clambered over the fence with the garden shears in hand and soon victory was hers. Just as she’d hoped, she was now proudly holding the details of the estate agent who was selling the farm.
Sally climbed out of the field, deposited the shears back in the boot and grabbed her phone from her bag along with a handful of wipes to rub away the dirt which was caked over the phone number.
“You have reached the office of Hedges and Burnett Estate Agents. Our hours are 9 till 5, Monday to Friday, and 8.30 to 12 on Saturdays. We are closed on Sundays. Please leave a message and we will call you back. Thank you.”
‘Damn and blast it!’
She kicked the tyre on the car in annoyance before looking up and down the road to see if anyone was around. Satisfied the road was still clear, she climbed back into the field and dragged the broken signpost further down the lane towards some overgrown hedging and pushed it underneath as far as it would go before messing up the grass to hide her tracks. It was, she acknowledged to herself, highly unlikely that anyone else would come sniffing around just when she had found the property, but why take the chance?
She got back into the car, took out some more wipes to clean her hands, pulled a brush through her hair and took off the stained sweatshirt. Now that she no longer looked like she’d spent the morning fighting her way through a jungle, she turned out onto the main road and drove towards Lower Ditchley.
Flora O’Brien slipped past the queue in the bakery and stepped through the entry into the tearoom. She’d had a shitty day so far and now her favourite table by the window was lending its services to four women doing their best hyena impressions. They looked pretty settled in so were unlikely to be vacating it anytime soon. Her grey mood grew a little darker as she sat at a table by the wall.
‘Hey, Flora, what can I get you?’
‘Hi, Saffy, a large Americano and an even larger slice of cake with a bucket of cream.’
‘Sure thing. Any particular cake?’
‘Whatever you have left will do.’
‘Coming right up.’
The young girl flashed her a bright sunny smile and Flora couldn’t help but respond. It took the edge off her glum demeanour but she was still riled up inside. Her conversation with her dad had started it off this morning. She’d been trying to push him back into the world of dating for two or three years now but the stubborn git kept digging his heels in. It was almost as if he’d buried his heart with her mother and had no interest in trying to meet anyone else. Then, when she’d reached Oxford and met her new client, the woman had been more indecisive than a six-year-old in a sweet shop. Flora had sketched out a number of logo options but nothing seemed to hit the spot. After several hours, she’d left the client to “take some time to mull things over and we’ll talk again in a few days” but had a strong feeling her time had been wasted. If the woman couldn’t make a simple decision on something like this, Flora didn’t fancy her chances when it came to the other major business dilemmas she was going to face in the future.
‘Hey, what’s with the grumpy chops there, girl?’
Flora looked up to see Sam Doherty, the owner of the tearoom and the wife of her dad’s business partner, holding a tray which contained her cake and coffee.
‘Hi, Sam, thank you for this.’
‘I had one slice of carrot cake left over from yesterday, figured you’d like it. Saffy mentioned you looked a bit stormy. What’s up?’
‘Bad Dad and bad client – in that order.’
‘Wanna talk about it?’
‘Only if you promise not to mention it to Robbie. I don’t think Dad would be happy if he thought I’d been blabbing my troubles around the village.’
‘Your secrets are safe with me.’ Sam slid into the seat opposite. ‘So, what’s your dad been up to, then?’
‘Nothing! And that’s the problem. I want him to meet a nice lady to spend his time with. It’s been too long since my mum died.’
‘Most kids prefer their single parents to stay single. You’re going against the grain here, why?’
‘I just…’ she sighed. ‘I just… I feel guilty whenever I go out with Ben and leave him home alone. And I feel guilty when I see my friends, knowing he’s sitting at home waiting for me.’
‘I think that’s a little dramatic, Flora, he’s not exactly behaving like a hermit. He’s on the village darts team and he meets us in the pub a couple of times a week.’
‘I know. But that’s all he does. He recently did an online landscape gardening course, telling me it was to add an extra dimension to the business so they can provide an all-round service. And that makes perfect sense. However, because he has nothing else in his life, he completed the course in half the assigned timescale!’
‘I understand, and I think it’s lovely that you’re so concerned but it’s your dad’s life and only he can make the decision to take the next step.’
Flora took a bite of her cake, chewed, and then swallowed before speaking again.
‘I’ve signed him up to a dating website…’
‘You never have!’
She looked across at Sam, her face stretched in disbelief.
‘Yes, I have!’
‘Bloody hell, Flora! Have you told him?’
‘I might have mentioned it this morning…’
Sam chuckled. ‘Oh, Flora, I wish I’d been a fly on the wall when you broke that one to him. His face must have been a picture.’
‘I don’t think he quite believed me although he did tell me to get rid of it.’
‘And have you?’
‘Have I heck as like! I’ll monitor it for a few days and see what bites. If there are any takers who I think are good enough for him, I’ll try and get him to agree to a date.’ She let out a small sigh. ‘It feels like I’ve been hoping since forever for him to meet someone. It would have been nice to grow up with a mother, even an evil step one…’
‘Well, good luck with it all.’
‘I can be rather stubborn, Sam.’
‘Yes, and so can your dad. Where do you think you got it from?’
Sam stood and pushed in her chair.
‘Right, I need to get back to it. This is the lull before the storm. The next coach is due in half an hour so I need to get the prep done in the kitchen. See you later.’
‘See you, Sam, and thanks for listening.’
Sam squeezed her shoulder.
‘Hey, anytime kiddo, anytime.’
Flora finished her snack and after paying, made her way out through the bookshop, nodding to Jenny as she walked by.
She muttered her thanks to the woman who waited for her to come out the door before entering herself and walked over to her car, hoping her Uncle Craig could put her in a better frame of mind.