Chapter 30
Meg looked at Gabe, who was gazing at her intently from the opposite side of the table, his chin resting in his hand. ‘Okay, so can we rewind a bit? What was she talking about?’
‘Which part? The website?’
‘The… food chest? Goodwill cupboard? Are they the same thing?’
Meg cupped her mug in both hands, looking at him over the rim for a moment as she thought.
‘There’s a girl… I’m sure she’s not the only one, but she’s the only one I’ve seen. She’s clearly struggling for money, and she’s on her own with a baby. I know Applemore is very pretty and looks like a picture postcard, but I hate to think of…’ she tailed off for a moment, putting her mug back down and looking away, conscious of his intense gaze.
‘Go on.’ His voice was gentle.
‘We didn’t have a lot of money when I was growing up. I remember that feeling of being hungry between meals, and never quite feeling like there was enough to eat in the school holidays.’
‘So you don’t want someone else to feel the same way.’
She nodded. ‘The weird thing is that when I realised that the food that was being left on the library shelf was disappearing pretty much every day, I worked out there was a need for it. It’s hard to ask for help, especially if you’re too proud to admit you’re struggling.’
He was looking at her steadily, a kind expression in his dark blue eyes which made her feel safe to keep on talking. She adjusted the handle of the mug so it lined up with the ridge on the table.
‘The person I was before – I think I’d have felt bad about it, but too scared to step out of line and do something. I don’t know if it’s something to do with being here where I don’t know anyone…’
Gabe raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Apart from random women who turn up on your doorstep on a rainy afternoon?’
‘Okay, apart from…’ Meg stopped for a moment and thought. ‘The strange thing is – I know more people here than I ever knew back in Yorkshire, even counting people who worked for us.’
He tipped his head slightly in acknowledgement. ‘Maybe that’s a sign of something.’
‘Perhaps?’ She turned her hands palm up, looking at them for a moment as if they might hold the answer. ‘Anyway, I’d read an article online about community larders where people left food – an extension of the library, really, where you can pick up what you need, no questions asked.’
‘It’s a really good idea. So you thought you’d just take the initiative?’
‘Goodness knows what I was thinking. If I was sensible I’d probably be trying to help her find some way of making some money. Her boyfriend seems to have upped and left when the baby arrived, and she doesn’t know anyone around here.’
‘Well, your friend – Greta, wasn’t it? She seemed pretty impressed. And doing something nice for someone who needs help is never a bad idea.’
‘Like your community projects.’ Meg pushed her hair back from her face. It would be drying all crinkly in the warmth of the kitchen. Goodness knows what she looked like.
‘Exactly. If you ask Donald Grant, he’ll make light of it, but the materials for stuff like the fencing outside aren’t cheap. Not to mention the day rate for the work. He doesn’t take a penny for it.’
‘And you’re doing the community orchard and the play area at the school, as well.’ Meg raked a hand through her hair in the hope of making it look halfway decent. It was ironic that Gabe, who’d been soaked through, was sitting there looking handsome and unruffled in a grey T-shirt, having peeled off his soaked work coat and hung it on the back of the chair.
‘You’ve been reading the village newsletter, I take it?’ He grinned. ‘Una in the office was telling everyone she’d written a bit of a PR piece telling everyone what we were up to.’
‘I’ve got a whole stack of village newsletters in the front porch,’ Meg said, laughing. ‘I’ve been given the job of making sure they don’t run out down at the library.’
‘I know where to come if I want to catch up on the Applemore gossip, then.’ He surveyed her over the top of his mug, the lines at the edge of his eyes matching their twinkle of amusement.
‘And PR puff pieces, apparently.’ She felt her mouth twitch sideways in a teasing smile.
‘Ouch.’ Gabe grinned. ‘To be fair to Grant Forestry, they put their money where their mouth is. It’s a refreshing change from the corporate flannel I used to hear when I was working in industry.’
‘I can imagine. It must be good to be working for someone with integrity.’
‘Yeah, he’s a good bloke,’ agreed Gabe. ‘He can afford to give something back, mind you - there’s a hell of a lot of money flying around at the moment. He’s just signed that contract for the Lochbrannich Estate that’ll bring in a fortune.’
‘The rewilding thing you were talking about when we were out walking?’
‘Yeah. I think it’ll be a really interesting project. Talking of which, she mentioned the website – is it all done?’
‘Pretty much. I forgot how much I missed doing stuff like that.’
‘Do you think you’ll do more? You could set up on your own – I bet you’d get loads of business.’
She’d been thinking on the way back from the farm shop earlier. Bumping into Rilla had set off a thought process which was still crystallising in her mind. She tapped a finger on her lips, musing for a moment.
‘I’d like to do work for charities, that sort of thing. I don’t need the money – it sounds ridiculous, but it’s true. I could make a difference by offering my skills.’
‘I get the money thing.’ He cleared his throat. ‘When I walked away I got a package. Took a sort of voluntary redundancy when they offshored everything.’
‘And of course now you’re making the big bucks,’ Meg said, indicating his work coat hanging on the back of the chair.
‘Oh yeah, raking it in.’ He pushed a hand back through his hair, leaving it standing up in untidy salt-and-pepper spikes. ‘The cost of living up here isn’t really comparable to down south.’
‘So, do you think you’ll buy somewhere up here?’
He glanced away for a moment, then returned to meet her gaze. ‘Possibly? I still own a place down south, but its… complicated.’
‘Ah. Is it rented out?’
He shook his head. ‘No, my ex is still living there. It’s one of those things that needs to be sorted, but –’
‘It’s complicated.’ She finished his sentence for him and he gave a brief nod before rubbing his hands over his face for a moment and then looking straight at her.
‘We met through work. It was the kind of environment where you worked hard and played hard at the end of the day, and I’d sort of missed the boat as far as marriage and kids were concerned, not that I was that worried. She worked in the same department, so we were thrown together a lot of the time, – ended up on work trips, that sort of thing. She was fun. Liked a drink after work, but everyone did – it was how we decompressed.’
It was Meg’s turn to rest her chin in her hands. She looked across at Gabe as he continued.
‘I felt for her, because her ex-husband had moved to New Zealand, leaving her in the lurch with a high-pressure job and a teenager to look after.’
‘And the inevitable happened.’
‘Yeah.’ Gabe’s thick brows furrowed at the memory. ‘We got together. It was fun, until it wasn’t. We got together, bought a place – and the wheels started coming off almost straight away. A few drinks after work to relax is one thing, but this was another.’
‘That sounds really tough to deal with.’ Meg’s heart contracted.
‘It wasn’t great. I tried to make things easier for Jacob – her son – but I didn’t know how much of a difference I was making. Then he decided he wanted to move to New Zealand to be with his dad, and that was the beginning of the end, really. We limped on for a few more years, but it wasn’t fun for anyone. By the end, we were living separate lives in the same building.’
‘That sounds familiar,’ Meg said, softly. ‘Same idea, different story with me.’
‘You’re divorced?’
She shook her head and braced herself. ‘No, he died.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I got the house, the business, the life insurance… and a large portion of guilt about that to work through.’
Gabe winced, giving a look of empathy.
‘Luckily I had enough money for expensive therapy,’ she said drily.
He gave a snort of laughter. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.’
‘It wasn’t the best marriage in the world. Still…’ she tailed off.
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Gabe cocked his head slightly. ‘Maybe that’s not the right thing to say?’
Meg made an open-handed gesture. ‘Sorry for him. It’s sad when anyone dies young, isn’t it? But the thing I’ve worked out – thanks to the aforementioned expensive therapy – is we shouldn’t ever have been together.’
‘Ah. Yeah, that sounds familiar too.’
‘I guess we’ve got lots to compare notes about.’ Meg looked down at Eliza, who had appeared at her feet and was pawing at her leg with impatience. ‘Sorry, I’m being summoned. Do you need to go out?’
Gabe glanced up at the clock on the kitchen wall. ‘I better get going. I hadn’t realised the time. Stan’s back at the cottage and he’ll be waiting at the front door with his paws crossed.’
Meg felt a pang of regret as they headed for the door. Talking to Gabe felt – right. Like she could sit across the table from him and never run out of things to say. But it was half-past six already.
‘Saturday, then?’ Gabe said, pausing with a hand on the doorframe.
‘I’d love that.’ Eliza shot through his legs and headed for the garden. Gabe turned, laughing.
‘Hopefully the weather will be more like this than this afternoon’s performance.’
‘Fingers crossed.’ Meg lifted a hand, the gesture echoing her words.
‘See you tomorrow, then.’
With the crooked smile that made her heart flip, he gave a wave and headed back towards his truck.