Chapter 14
‘Hello there.’
Meg almost jumped out her skin the following afternoon. She’d taken a trip out of Applemore, heading to the bigger town ten miles away, where she filled a trolley of shopping and picked up a sack of the particular dog food Eliza liked. Not for nothing were corgis the chosen dogs of royalty. Eliza had very particular opinions about what she ate.
Closing the door of the car, she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and turned, jumping in surprise when she saw a grey-haired woman standing on the gravel path.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.’
‘Oh, you didn’t,’ said Meg, to a look of mild amusement. ‘It’s my fault. I don’t know why; I always over-react.’
‘I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical reason for that,’ said the woman. She was dressed smartly in a long grey woollen overcoat, with a red patterned scarf tied at her neck and a slash of red lipstick which contrasted perfectly with her silver-grey hair. Meg, who’d thrown a hoody over her top and headed to the shops in a pair of tired yoga pants, felt decidedly underdressed. She’d always made an effort when she lived in Heatherby, and it was Sod’s Law that the moment she didn’t, a random stranger turned up.
‘I’m Kathleen. Helen might have mentioned I’d be popping by.’
Meg felt the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement. ‘You have met Helen, yes?’
Kathleen gave a snort of laughter. ‘She completely forgot, didn’t she?’
She waggled the bag she was holding. ‘Eggs,’ she said, simply.
‘Oh! Yes,’ Meg said, smiling. ‘Yes, she did mention you. In fact, I saw someone –’ and then she stopped herself mid-sentence, realising that she didn’t feel comfortable cheerfully announcing she’d seen the girl taking the eggs. Maybe it wasn’t the case that everyone in Applemore knew everything.
‘I’m just off to the village improvement meeting,’ the woman continued, as if she hadn’t noticed what Meg said, ‘so I thought I’d drop these in – some for the library, and some for you as a welcome to Applemore gift. How are you finding it? Getting settled in for your house-sitting stint?’
‘Oh yes.’ Meg nodded. ‘I’ve been sorting things out a bit in the house, and now I’m organised, I’m going to go to the Pilates class I saw advertised in the shop the other day.’
What on earth was she doing? It was as if her mouth had taken over and she had no control of it all of a sudden. It was Thursday. There was a new series of that thriller show she’d been watching on Netflix, and she’d already had this discussion with herself.
‘Oh, that’s a nice idea. I gather it’s the first one tonight, so you’ll all be beginners.’
‘I hope so,’ said Meg, still wondering who had taken control of her brain. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’
Now this was getting ridiculous. Her peri-menopausal forty-nine-year-old body was perfectly comfortable sitting on a sofa reading a book or watching a movie.
‘Well, in the meantime, I’ll give you these,’ said Kathleen, ‘and I’ll pop down and put these on the shelf.’
‘I had a look earlier,’ Meg said. ‘I might tidy-up the books a little, and maybe put some of Helen’s books in there as well?’ She shifted from one foot to the other, wondering as she did if she was speaking out of turn.
‘That’s a marvellous idea. I think the plan was that everyone would keep an eye on the little library when it was installed, but you know how it goes – everyone thinks someone else will do it, so it doesn’t get done. It is a bit untidy down there.’
‘I’ll give it a bit of a spruce up,’ said Meg, relieved. ‘Helen’s given me free rein to put any of the books I’ve boxed up down there, so I’ll swap them over and make sure there’s nothing lurking.’
‘I should have some copies of the village newsletter when I get back from the meeting as well. I’ll pop a little stack down there for passers-by. It gets quite busy here as the weather picks up.’
‘Really?’ Meg had only seen the girl and a couple of others passing by.
‘Oh yes, the sun comes out and there will be a regular stream of bodies coming past. You’ll be fending them off,’ Kathleen added with a chuckle. She looked at her watch. ‘Anyway, I’d better get a move on or I’ll be late for the meeting. Greta’s in charge and she’s a fierce woman indeed.’
She gave a cheerful wave and set off at a brisk pace down the path towards the library.
Thanks to daylight saving the clocks had gone forward, meaning it was still light when Meg set off for the class. She somehow took a wrong turn out of the village and found herself halfway up a farm track with no signal and the map on the screen refusing to load. She drove into a gateway and reversed carefully, trying not to land in a ditch. A moment later, seemingly out of nowhere, a red-haired young farmer in a set of muddy green overalls appeared on a quad bike.
He stopped and – painfully aware that she was at an awkward angle, with a herd of shaggy Highland cows peering at her from the other side of the fence – she opened the car window.
‘Are you lost?’
‘I was trying to find a Pilates class,’ Meg admitted, realising how ridiculous she sounded.
One of his eyebrows shot up and he grinned. ‘Well, these lassies are all about to calve, so I think they’re a bit too pregnant to be getting all hot and bothered at an exercise class.’
Meg laughed. ‘If you can give me some idea where I’ve gone wrong, I’d be very grateful. That’s if I can get out of this gateway without turning the car upside down.’
He jumped down from the quad bike. ‘Well, we can sort that jam for starters.’
He squeezed past her window and opened the gate, waving his arms widely so the cows backed off, snorting. ‘Come forward a bit, then you’ll have room to reverse back safely.’
A few moments later, facing back the way she came, Meg looked up at him with gratitude.
‘Right. Take the road down to the bottom there, and you want to take the fork right as if you’re going back to the village, and there’s a sharp left after the hedge that you missed. Everyone does it.’
‘Thanks so much.’
‘No bother at all,’ said the young man, touching his forehead in a salute. ‘Enjoy your keep-fit class.’
Meg gave him a wave as she drove off, suppressing the urge to turn back down the lane and head for the lighthouse cottage as she did so.
Helen had mentioned that the new Laird and his girlfriend took over Applemore House, giving the whole place a new lease of life. The last time she’d been to visit they’d taken a walk up the drive – Helen cheerfully disregarding the sign which read PRIVATE NO ENTRY and taking her down a wooded path which led to a secluded beach, then back up through pines and huge masses of flowering rhododendron bushes to walk past the big house itself, which had been beautiful – more of a house than a castle – but clearly very dilapidated.
Now, a brand-new sign adorned the entrance to the drive, and someone had neatly trimmed the grass verge along the side. As she approached a group of whitewashed buildings, she could see cars already parked, and pulled in behind a tiny green Picanto which was even older than Helen’s car.
A woman with long dark hair, dyed a bright mahogany tint, climbed out. She wore a pair of purple and green workout leggings with a rainbow-striped fleece on top. As she pulled up, she looked over at Meg and made a face that suggested she wasn’t altogether enthralled with the idea of a Pilates class.
She picked up her bag and her bottle of water and slid out of the driver’s seat.
‘You look like I feel,’ said the woman with a conspiratorial smile.
Hitching her bag onto her shoulder, Meg locked the car door and turned to see the woman still standing there, clearly expecting to have a conversation.
‘You’re not from round here,’ said the woman, cocking her head slightly to one side.
Meg shook her head. ‘No, I’m house-sitting for a friend.’ Gosh she was out of practise with making small talk. That was what happened when you spent all day working online and only mixed with your closest friend and a neighbour.
‘I guessed,’ said the woman, falling into step beside Meg, ‘because you locked the car.’
‘Is that not normal?’
‘Not in Applemore. We’re so far from anywhere that nobody’s likely to steal your car, and if they did the whole village would know about it before it had gone three miles down the road.’
Meg laughed. ‘I never even thought of that.’
‘Most of us don’t even lock the doors, either.’ She grinned. ‘I’m Miranda, by the way.’
‘Meg.’
‘Nice to meet you, Meg. Shall we go inside and let the torture begin?’
Meg followed her up a neatly gravelled path towards an open courtyard full of huge containers filled with colourful spring blooms.
There was what looked like a converted barn with an enormous glass window where an arched door had once stood, and a huge sign announcing APPLEMORE FARM SHOP hung on the wall next to a doorway painted in a dark grey. Tiny spots of fairy lights danced in the windows, and outside the door a huge wooden rack – for flowers, perhaps, or something like that – was full of empty black buckets.
Opposite, there was a hanging sign which led through to the room where the class was taking place. Inside, a collection of women stood around chatting and at one end of the room a woman of about thirty with bright red hair tied back in a ponytail was tapping something onto the screen of an iPad.
‘No sign of Beth yet?’ Miranda looked around, searching for someone.
‘She’s not coming. Jack said one of the twins wasn’t feeling well.’ Meg turned to see a woman with dark hair pulled back from her face in a plait which hung over her shoulder. Curly tendrils had already started to escape and as she smiled a greeting she swiped at her forehead with the back of her arm.
‘I’m boiling already. I had to run down because the bike had a puncture and Lachlan was in the middle of cooking dinner.’
Meg glanced around, not knowing anyone and feeling slightly like a spare part.
‘Sorry,’ said Miranda, a second later. ‘This is – excuse my manners. I am terrible with names.’
‘Meg,’ said Meg, feeling shy.
‘Ah,’ said the dark-haired woman. ‘You’re the one who’s house-sitting for Helen down at the lighthouse cottage. I’m Rilla.’
Meg gave a little smile of greeting. She was going to need a notepad to write all these names down if she was to remember them all. Maybe she could sneakily type them into the notes app on her phone when nobody was looking.
‘Yeah, if I hadn’t known you were Helen’s house-sitter I would have guessed when you locked the car,’ said Miranda, laughing. ‘As it was, I explained it’s a sure-fire way of working out the locals from the visitors. How long are you here?’
‘Six weeks or so. Helen hasn’t booked a return flight, because she wanted to wait and see how her daughter was doing after the birth.’
‘Ahh, cute. I love babies,’ said Miranda, ‘especially when they’re not my own.’
‘I don’t love babies,’ said the dark-haired woman, ‘not to say I don’t love my daughter very much, I should add,’ she said, lowering her voice slightly. ‘But I was never one for fussing over prams. I don’t think I held one until Kitty came along.’
‘Oh, I’m the same,’ agreed Miranda. ‘Fortunately, mine is fully grown and off making his fortune in the big city. Have you left yours behind as well?’
Meg shook her head. ‘I don’t actually have any.’
It was the age-old question, and it always seemed to come up as soon as she met other women.
‘Oh, my sister-in-law Charlotte is the same. She’s off having the time of her life in South Africa with her husband. I’m not jealous at all,’ said Rilla, laughing.
‘Yeah, that’s the joy of not having any. You can go off and do all the exciting things when you’re not tied down for all those years.’ Miranda gave a wistful sigh.
‘Ah hello again,’ said a voice, interrupting their conversation.
Meg turned and recognised Greta and the other woman, Dolina, who she’d met in the shop the other day.
‘Nice to see you here,’ said Greta, who was clearly ready to take on the challenge in a pair of grey cycle shorts and a loose lilac T-shirt over a matching vest.
‘Hello again,’ said the woman who she’d been with in the shop. ‘Dolina,’ she said, in case Meg had forgotten. ‘And this is my daughter, Jenny.’
Jenny gave her a warm smile. ‘Hi,’ she said, giving a little wave.
‘Rilla, Miranda.’ Dolina gave them both a nod. ‘I said to Greta I had a feeling you’d come along after we saw you in the shop. I said that lassie is definitely interested, because she was looking at the poster and –’
She was interrupted by the sound of a gong, which made them all jump slightly in surprise.
‘Hello everyone, thank you so much for coming.’
The instructor was called Maisie, and looked nothing like Meg had expected. Small and round, with bright red hair and a face full of freckles, she announced that she’d recently moved to Applemore from the Island of Harris, and in her soft sing-song accent confessed that she was relieved that they’d all turned up.
‘I was imagining standing here all by myself, trying not to be too upset.’
The class was unexpectedly fun. Dolina had them all in stitches when Maisie asked if they were familiar with their pelvic floor.
‘We’re not on speaking terms,’ Dolina had said darkly. ‘In fact, I’m no’ sure that we’re even living in the same part of the country.’
‘Well, hopefully we can remedy that a little bit,’ reassured Maisie, directing everyone down onto the mats on the floor.
During the relaxation session at the end, Meg lay on the mat, trying to clear her mind and allow her breath to reach the very bottom of her lungs as instructed. Miranda’s passing comment had struck a chord with her – that one of the joys of being child-free was that it offered you the freedom to live adventurously. If there was one thing that her life had definitely not been, it was adventurous. Still, here she was taking a class and saying yes to something when she’d have said no in the past. That was a start, at least.