Chapter 33
It was funny how the Pilates class had somehow given a shape to her weeks. It was Thursday again, and Miranda was leaning on the side of her car with her arms folded when Meg pulled up alongside the farm shop centre.
‘You’re looking very perky,’ said Miranda with a knowing expression.
Meg reached into the back of the car, hiding the blush she knew would be rising on her cheeks. She grabbed her mat and her bag and straightened to see Miranda hadn’t moved. Her brows lifted in query.
‘What?’ Meg couldn’t help smiling.
‘Oh, nothing.’ Miranda shook her head.
‘Ready for our weekly torture session?’
‘I think I’m getting slightly fitter.’ Miranda flexed her right arm. ‘That might just be all the digging I’ve been doing, mind you. You must come and have a coffee up at the flower farm and see what we’ve been up to.’
‘I’d love that.’
They headed inside, where half the class members were already rolling out their mats and getting ready, standing around in groups and chatting.
Meg felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find Dolina, lips pursed and eyes wide in mock amusement, looking at her.
‘What’s this I’m hearing,’ she said, cocking her head to one side as if she was a robin who’d spotted a particularly tasty morsel.
Meg couldn’t help smiling. ‘Hearing about what?’
Miranda looked at Dolina and then back at her, waggling her eyebrows.
‘Oh for goodness’ sake.’ Meg shook out her mat and laid it down on the ground.
‘I said she was looking happy,’ said Miranda.
‘That’ll be because she’s been on a hot date with that silver fox that’s working up in the forest.’
‘I haven’t been on a date,’ Meg protested.
‘Hmm,’ said Miranda.
‘I tell you what, I wouldn’t say no,’ said Dolina, with a cackle of laughter. ‘I saw him in the shop the other day and Greta was telling me he’d been seen up at the cottage. You’re a fast worker, my girl. I’m impressed.’
‘I haven’t done anything!’ Meg shook her head and started laughing.
‘Yet,’ said Miranda with a grin.
‘I’m saying nothing,’ Meg conceded. ‘This place is ridiculous.’
Dolina clasped her forearm with a warm smile. ‘Och, we’re only having you on. We like a wee bit of romance here.’
‘She’s right.’ Miranda nodded. ‘It’s nice to see people looking happy – there’s enough blooming misery in the world. And you are definitely looking happy.’
Meg pressed two fingers to her lips, realising that she was smiling again.
‘Right, everyone,’ said Maisie, the instructor. ‘Did you do those follow-up exercises during the week?’
Afterwards, as always, people gathered in little groups outside in the courtyard, laughing and chatting. The sky was still bright and the air crisp, but not cold. Meg pulled down the hem of her sweatshirt and hitched her bag up onto her shoulder, listening as Rilla told everyone about a strange group of campers who’d turned up that week to stay at the estate.
‘We had to tell them that no, we weren’t really the right setting for a full moon naked dance ceremony.’
‘I don’t know,’ Jenny, Dolina’s daughter had said, laughing, ‘we could have all come and watched.’
‘I would have thought you see enough wrinkly sausages on the butchery counter in the farm shop,’ her mother said, snorting with amusement at her own joke.
Meg looked around at the now-familiar setting. The planters which Miranda and Beth had filled were now coming into bloom, and the windows of the art gallery next to the studio was hung with paintings done by the children’s art class that took place once a week. Across the courtyard, solar powered fairy lights danced in the breeze, hanging around the entrance to the shop and café.
‘So you’ll have to report back,’ Miranda said, giving Meg a nudge and bringing her back into the conversation.
‘Sorry?’
‘About your hot date.’
‘Ooh yes,’ said Rilla, laughing. ‘The old Applemore magic is working on you, I hear.’
‘Welcome to Applemore,’ said Miranda, in mock-prophetic tones. ‘You can visit, but you’ll never leave…’
Meg mused on it as she was driving home in Helen’s battered little car. She’d taken some cuttings from a geranium on the windowsill and set them in a glass of water a week or so ago, thinking she’d grow them on and pop them outside in the planter by the door. For a few days, every time she’d checked it seemed to be doing nothing at all, and she wondered if she’d lost her touch. Then one day, as if by magic, the tiniest roots had appeared, pale and almost translucent, curling through the water. Was she taking root in Applemore?
She’d half wondered, half hoped that Gabe might reappear the next morning. The fencing was almost complete, and as she dressed she glanced out of the window, realising with disappointment that it was George and his young helper, Leo, once again.
Morning, she read on her phone, her heart giving a little skip of excitement at seeing Gabe’s name pop up. I passed Laurel’s number on to Una and I’ve just been in the office - apparently they’re having a chat today. Thought you’d want to know asap.
That’s amazing. Thanks so much.
Una doesn’t mess about, Gabe typed. I had a feeling she’d be straight on it.
I think Laurel will be keen to get started as soon as she can, so that’s good. Meg felt a wave of anticipatory nerves as she continued tapping a message. What are you up to today?
I was hoping I’d be working with George, but I’m heading up the coast with Donald to look at a deer fencing job.
Well, that answered that question. Still, it was sweet of him to let her know straight away. She’d text a good luck message to Laurel later.