Chapter Two
Despite the softness of the bed, I barely slept a wink last night.
All I could think about was Nathan - does he miss me? How is he coping without me?
Probably just fine, he always did have one foot out of the door during our relationship, never fully committing to us, regardless of the fact we were married for four years. There’s no loneliness quite like sitting beside someone in the home you share and yet, you’re so totally and utterly alone. You feel like half a person, as if you’ll cease to exist unless the man next to you tears his eyes away from the TV or his phone and sees fit to give you just a crumb of attention. You learn to crave those moments, live for them, until the bare minimum starts to seem like a huge show of love. He calls you after work and you’re on cloud nine, though you’re wary not to say anything that might muck things up and put him in a foul mood. His hand brushes your back as he passes you doing dishes in the kitchen, and your heart skips a beat.
Groaning, I lug myself out of the warm sheets and rub hard at my throbbing temples. Logically, I know my marriage was dead in the water for years, but that doesn’t make the pain of it falling apart any less acute. I had a life planned out - I was Nathan’s wife, we were going to live in our comfortable townhouse for a few years then move to somewhere bigger with a garden, have children and grow old together. That’s how it was supposed to be, where did it all go so horribly wrong? When did love turn into loathing, when did affection turn into obligation? I can’t say for sure, but the rot had been setting in for years, covertly eating away at everything we built together until there was no foundation left and our marriage was damaged beyond repair.
Now, I’m renting a cottage in the middle of nowhere, living off the payment from the last book cover I illustrated and my share of the house sale. As I pad down the rickety old staircase and through to the small kitchen, I can’t quite believe I’m here. It kind of feels like a holiday, a little break from routine and then I’ll be returning to Surrey in a few days.
But of course, I won’t be. At least for now.
Switching on the kettle, I sigh and lean up against the granite countertop. I wonder when reality will kick in and this will all start to feel real.
I didn’t bother to wash up yesterday’s mugs last night, so I rinse one out carelessly and use that for my morning coffee. Savouring the rich scent before I take a sip, I clasp the mug in both hands and glance out of the window. The sun is pale and bright in the cloudless sky, heralding the promise of warm weather later on. Victor must be an avid gardener, he’s clearly taken good care of this place while waiting for a tenant to come along - the lawn is freshly cut and the flower beds are beautifully groomed. I’ve never had a garden before, except for a small scrub of grass at the front of our old house, the back was tiny and paved with grey slabs. I hope I’ll be able to stay on top of it, perhaps Victor will loan me a lawn mower.
After getting dressed in a pair of baggy jeans and the first clean t-shirt I could find in my suitcase, I decide to go exploring. Feeling brave, I stroll across the village and out toward the Heather Hills. I wasn’t joking when I told Victor that I’m not much of a hiker, but something about those rolling green moors beckon me.
My trainers aren’t the most appropriate for hiking, but at least it’s dry out as I stride smartly along the well-worn path along the hillside. The further I go, the steeper both the declines and inclines become, and I roll my ankle several times over the uneven ground. Hissing in pain, I bend down to examine the damage. No wonder Victor hasn’t dared to come up here by himself, it’s a bloody death trap!
However, when I straighten up and catch sight of the view, all trepidation melts away in an instant. You can see the whole of Lily Vale up here, like a beautifully crafted model inside a snow globe. I can even see what I suspect is Simmons Farm, and I assume the smudge of bright orange there is the famous pumpkin patch Victor was so enthusiastic about.
I drink in a deep breath of fresh air, allowing it to fill every pore in my body. Up here, anything feels possible - I could be anyone, live any life I choose.
My new-found positivity dwindles just slightly as I make my way down the hill, stumbling several times, and amble down to the main high street. There’s an eclectic mix of cute little shops, each one unique and not at all matching any others, but somehow, the mish-mash looks right. Peering curiously in windows, I pass everything from a florist to a dressmaker with three stunning gowns on display in hues of gold, blue and pink.
Despite the charm and beauty surrounding me, a sense of unease climbs up from the depths of my stomach. I’m an outsider here, a stranger in a strange land of folk who have most likely lived here their entire lives, just like old Victor. How on earth am I supposed to make a home for myself in a place like this, where the community is so tightly woven that there’s probably no room for anyone else?
Maybe I should have just moved in with my parents. I know they’d have happily taken me, but I couldn’t bear the thought of retreating to my childhood home in defeat and disgrace. Still, right now I’m beginning to doubt my decision to move here on a whim, to a place where the only person I know is someone who’s book covers I design.
Gnawing at my lower lip, I finger my mobile in my pocket, considering sending Lucy a text. I know she’s in the middle of her latest book so she’s rather busy, the last thing I want to do is disturb her. But she did tell me to let her know when I got to Lily Vale, something I’ve failed to do as of yet. I’m not sure why, I guess I didn’t really want any company yesterday, even keeping up conversation with dear Victor became a bit difficult after a while. All I felt like doing was wallowing in my misery, and if I’m honest, that’s all I want to do now , but I can’t squat in my bubble of despair forever. If I’m to carve out a life in this place - even just temporarily - I’ve got to start making some connections.
I tap out a quick text before I can overthink what to say.
Hi Lucy, I’m here in Lily Vale Village! Met Victor yesterday, you’re right, he’s a total sweetheart. Let me know when you’re free to catch up, no pressure!
Ruth x
I don’t expect a reply any time soon, but no sooner do I slide the phone back into my jeans pocket does it ping with a new notification.
Yay, I’m so glad you’re here! I’m free now, if you are? Shall we meet for an early lunch at The Cosy Little Tearoom? I can be there in ten minutes.
Lucy x
Glancing up from my phone, I look around the quiet high street. I’ve no idea where The Cosy Little Tearoom is, but everything in Lily Vale seems to be walkable, so I’m sure I’ll find it easily enough.
I’m free - I’ll see you there!
As expected, it doesn’t take me long to happen upon The Cosy Little Tearoom, and it looks just as sweet as its name suggests, with a large wooden sign declaring its title in italics. Through the large window, I can see the interior, all dark wood floorboards and round tables with red and white checked tablecloths and different sized glass vases boasting fresh flowers on each one. I also spot Lucy, sitting at the back with a drink and a slice of carrot cake beside her.
Eagerly, I step through the door, and something furry and heavy jumps up me, panting and sniffing at my jeans.
‘Oh, Puddles, get down!’ The man behind the counter scolds the golden Labrador. ‘I’m sorry about him, he gets excited when we have visitors, especially ones he’s never seen before.’
‘It’s no problem,’ I giggle, stroking Puddles’ soft head. ‘It’s nice to be greeted with a smile!’
‘Well, welcome to The Cosy Little Tearoom, I’m Bill, me and my daughter Holly own this place.’ He grins from beneath a salt-and-pepper beard. ‘I assume you’re new to the village? I pride myself on knowing everyone around here.’
‘You assume correct.’ I stroll over to the counter, Puddles tailing me like a shadow. ‘I’m Ruth, I just moved here yesterday.’
‘Ah, are you Victor’s new tenant, then?’
Surprised, I nod. I suppose in such a small community, news must travel fast!
‘Yes, he did mention you, now that I think about it. Well, Ruth, what can I get you?’ He gestures to the hand-painted menu board on the wall behind him.
I study the menu, and settle on one of their Cosy Combinations that sounds intriguing, a lavender latte with a lemon and lavender bar on the side. Bill tells me he’ll bring it to my table, and I head straight over to where Lucy is sitting. Her smile stretches from ear to ear, and she stands up from her seat to give me a great big hug.
‘You made it!’ she squeals with delight. ‘You actually came to Lily Vale!’
‘I did,’ I mumble, slightly breathless from the bear hug. ‘I’m as surprised as you are, I’m not normally one for spontaneity, and this is the most mad thing I’ve ever done.’
‘Well, I’m so glad you did, now we’re neighbours!’ Her smile grows ever wider as she takes her seat once more and I do the same. ‘It’s so weird seeing you in person, finally.’
‘I know, I feel the same.’ I tilt my head to one side, thinking hard. ‘Although, it’s not as weird as I thought it would be. After all those video calls we’ve had, I feel like I’ve known you ages.’
‘I know exactly what you mean.’ She pats my arm warmly. ‘So, how are you getting on here so far? Was it yesterday you arrived? You should have said! I’d have come around and helped you unpack.’
I suck in a breath, hoping the shame doesn’t show on my face. Apart from the kitchen where Victor lent a hand, most of my earthly possessions are still wrapped up in boxes and bags, and that’s where they’ll remain until I can be bothered to fish them out.
‘To be honest with you, Luce, I was feeling a little overwhelmed yesterday,’ I confess, my finger following the checked pattern on the tablecloth. ‘It wasn’t pretty.’
Scoffing, she flicks a wrist. ‘Oh, don’t worry about that, I know what breakups are like. Let me tell you, I was a total mess when I first moved to Gran’s old place after finishing with my ex-boyfriend. I get how it can make you feel sort of … disoriented.’
I nod sincerely, because that’s exactly how it feels. Ever since Nathan ended things between us, I’ve sort of been floating around without a sense of direction, untethered and out of place. I suppose that’s why when Lucy offered me a lifeline, somewhere I could anchor myself for the time being, I took it gladly.
Bill places my coffee and cake on the table, and the first sip of lavender latte is heavenly. It’s the perfect blend of earthiness and sweetness, and I tell Bill so.
He shines pink with pride. ‘You can thank my daughter Holly for that, she’s always loved experimenting with different tea and coffee blends. And all our cakes are made by Rachel, our resident baker.’ He barks a big belly laugh. ‘They’re the talent, I’m just the beauty!’
Lucy and I chuckle along with him, and that earlier fear of not being able to fit in begins to slowly dissolve like the sugar in my coffee. So far, everyone I’ve met has been so welcoming and kind, maybe I truly can make a home in Lily Vale. I mean, it’s not what I wanted, what I wanted was to be married with two kids around my skirts by now, but that ship has sailed, and I need to accept it.
Sighing, I munch the lemon and lavender bar, and flavour burst over my tongue, a wonderfully weird mix of tartness and spice that blends into something delicious. I guess I’ll just have to make the best of this situation.
After another coffee and cake each, Lucy and I part ways, agreeing to meet up again in the week.
‘I’ve got book club at the retirement home on Wednesday, but let’s do Thursday, shall we?’ She says, giving me another hug. ‘You can come to Appleseed cottage, if you like. I’ll cook us a lasagne, shall I?’
‘That sounds perfect,’ I agree, belly already rumbling. ‘See you then.’
I can hardly remember the way back to the cottage, none of the little lanes look remotely familiar, but Lily Vale is a nice place to get lost, and I happily amble around the streets for a while, admiring the houses and gorgeous neat, little gardens.
When I finally make my way back to my cottage, I’m perturbed to find a man in my front garden, squatting down by the rose bush with a trowel. It looks like he might be … yes, he’s weeding !
‘Erm, excuse me?’ I march over, arms folded furiously. ‘What do you think you are doing?’
‘Gardening.’
He doesn’t even lift his head to look at me, he simply carries on his task as if there’s nothing weird at all about pulling weeds from someone else’s garden.
Incredulous, I snort at the man’s gall. ‘Yeah, I can see that. But why?’
‘Because it needs doing.’
Okay, now I’m really starting to lose my patience. How dare this randomer turn up and start pruning my garden, or at least, the garden I’m responsible for. Who does he think he is, turning up with all his fancy gear and getting stuck into my weeds?
‘Well, I didn’t ask you to be here. And I must say, it’s very odd of you to turn up and just decide to prune my bush.’ Instantly regretting the accidental double entendre, I flush scarlet and stammer to make corrections. ‘I - I mean my rose bush.’
‘I know you didn’t ask me to be here.’ He finally looks up from the ground, and I’m slightly taken aback by the intense shade of green in his eyes. ‘Victor did.’
Blinking, I stare down at this stranger, battling to make sense of it all. ‘V-Victor hired you?’
The stranger nods, his dark waves flopping over his furrowed forehead. ‘I’ve been looking after this cottage’s garden for years now. Victor used to do it himself, but maintaining this place as well as his own garden has got a bit much for him, so he asked me for help.’
Okay, that actually does make sense. Embarrassed by my outburst, I sink into my hunched shoulders, even my ears burning hot.
‘Oh, well I - I didn’t know.’
The man shrugs and turns back to his task. ‘Well, now you do.’
Thrown by his sharp attitude, I hover beside him on the garden path, teetering with what to say next. In the end, I simply demand to know his name.
‘I mean, if you’re going to be coming here regularly, I need to know who I’m dealing with.’ I stick my nose in the air haughtily.
‘Shaun. Shaun Henley.’ He pulls off one of his gardening gauntlets and casts it to the floor. ‘And you are?’
Gingerly, I take his outstretched hand and shake it stiffly. ‘Ruth Harper.’
With one brisk nod, Shaun returns to work without another word, and once again, I’m lingering awkwardly at his side. I feel as though I ought to offer him a cup of tea, but his curt manner has seriously rubbed me up the wrong way.
‘Can I get you a glass of water?’ It’s the lamest attempt at revenge - offering someone water instead of tea - but I’m not quite savage enough to simply go inside and ignore him. Curse my innate sense of British politeness!
Shaun twists his face and strokes the back of his hand across his perspiring forehead. ‘I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea, thanks.’
I purse my lips, holding back the growing vexation that’s just beneath the surface. ‘Fine.’
‘One sugar and a dash of milk.’
‘Right.’
I walk rigidly into the cottage, so irritated that I fumble with the keys in the door and drop them onto the welcome mat. Abashed by my clumsiness, I hurriedly stoop to grab them, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Shaun didn’t notice. He’s looking down at flower borders now, so hopefully he saw nothing.
I sift through the cupboards, locate my least-chipped mug and fill the kettle up with fresh water.
Well, Mr Henley, you can have your tea, but you won’t be getting any sugar.
Mostly because I still haven’t found it, but also because something about this guy has just got under my skin, like a bad rash or poison ivy.
When I bring Shaun his tea, he takes a sip and frowns. ‘Did you put sugar in this?’
All innocent smiles, I nod. ‘Yep.’
Before he can argue, I turn on my heel and go back inside, a feeble sense of victory cheering me on. It might be the most minor, petty win in the history of the world, but I’ll take it.