Chapter 8
There was a time when Gemma was very much younger that each and every summer holiday had included a trip to Cornwall at some point.
But the wonderful place names that she remembered from her childhood – Looe, Polperro, Mousehole – were all on the coast, so the area surrounding the farm – a place which had seemingly slipped halfway down the south-eastern slope of Bodmin Moor – was completely new to her, and she was eager to see more of it.
There was a wild and rugged beauty here which was so different from the picture-postcard scenes of sparkling blue sea she was more familiar with.
But the houses were as she remembered. Beautiful cottages, some whitewashed, some left as plain golden stone, and all of them strung out along both sides of a winding road, dotted with trees and interspersed with quaint-looking shops – a greengrocer, estate agent, general store, hairdresser, pub and finally the tearoom.
They were the kinds of houses she might have drawn as a child – square, with four windows, two either side of a central door and another two above with smoke rising high over the roof from squat chimneys.
Front gardens, although dormant now, would be filled to bursting with flowers come summer.
They were also the kind which Gemma had hoped to live in herself one day. The expensive kind.
Pulling up outside the tearoom, Willow rushed around to help Gemma from the car.
‘I messaged Vicky to let her know we were coming and to check that she wasn’t too busy, but she said it was fine and you can stay as long as you want.’ She held the door wide so that Gemma could swing her legs around to the pavement.
‘That’s up to you, of course,’ added Willow. ‘I feel like I’ve bullied you into doing this for us, but you don’t have to.’
‘No, honestly, it’s fine,’ said Gemma. ‘I’d like to message my friend anyway, and I’ve never really been a sit-around-and-do-nothing kind of person. I’ll go mad if I have to stay with my leg up all day. At least this way I’m doing something useful.’
‘Let me know when you’ve had enough and I’ll come and pick you up again. I’ll make sure I keep my phone on.’ She offered her arm so that Gemma could use it to help pull herself from the car.
With gritted teeth, she hauled herself upright, flinching as her ankle let her know how painful even this simple movement was. And then slowly, very slowly, she and Willow made their way along the pavement to the tearoom.
Vicky was waiting for them, holding the door open and clucking in sympathy. About the same age as her and Willow, she had a bundle of reddish-coloured hair escaping from a messy bun, a florid complexion and a very welcoming smile.
‘I’ve saved you a table over at the back here,’ she said.
‘It’s one of our smaller ones, but it’s out of the way and should mean that people aren’t constantly bumping into your foot.
I sprained my ankle once and I know what it’s like.
Doesn’t matter where you put it, someone will knock into it.
Oh, and the pain…’ She smiled at Willow as if to let her know that Gemma was now in safe hands.
Ten minutes later, Gemma had a steaming mug of coffee beside her, the WiFi password and a thick slice of orange and almond cake in front of her. She opened her laptop and logged on to her emails.
Hi Cat,
Well here I am… in a little tearoom called Nancy’s even though it seems to be run by someone called Vicky, and I’ve a feeling I’m not in Kansas any more…
I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch but, like I said, there’s no WiFi and so much seems to have happened since I arrived at Thistledown, I can’t believe I’ve only been here a day.
First things first: Willow and Rowan are lovely – she has unbelievable hair as well as amazing skin, and he makes incredible bread (among other things), and thankfully the house is…
More about that later, but at least it’s not a tumbledown ruin.
The loo is interesting though (it doesn’t flush!) and water comes out of a hole in the ground which admittedly gets piped to the house, but Willow’s so terrified it’s going to run out that water is like gold.
So far, all I’ve done is collect some eggs from their chickens, because straight after that I slipped over in a patch of mud and now have an ankle which is all colours of the rainbow and hurts like hell!
I know it’s early days, but I’d quite like to run away…
although I can’t even do that at the moment!
Seriously though, I suppose I didn’t really know what to expect but I am wondering how I’m going to do this. I feel helpless (and useless) and I know that’s because I’ve hurt my foot and everything is new and unfamiliar, but what the hell was I thinking, Cat?
Please tell me that everything is going to be okay, and that I haven’t just made the biggest mistake of my life… Either that, or tell me that Shiny Rachel has lost her sparkle and Abby is desperate to give me my old job back.
Oh, and tell me all your news, obviously, and don’t forget the gossip.
Much love xxx
P.S. The other thing which might be a teeny-tiny-weeny problem is that Leo is here…
Gemma quickly reread her message and then pressed send before she could have second thoughts.
She probably ought to have reined it in a bit but she and Cat had never spared each other the gory details about anything – the last two years would have been so much harder if they had.
Cat had been her lifeline during the dark days, there for her whatever she had been feeling.
Besides, Cat had a way of winkling the truth out of her so she might as well just tell it like it was.
She swallowed some coffee, took a huge bite of cake and opened her internet browser. But how on earth did you start looking for a building that was no longer there? Particularly one that had been lost for decades.
Typing ‘Thistledown’ into the search engine returned a predictable number of results, all of which bore no relation to her search. In fact, most seemed to be related to the name of a new housing development in Kent, almost the opposite of what she was searching for.
She had barely been in the tearoom for half an hour, and already it seemed as if her research had ground to a halt.
She didn’t know what she expected, but she had thought there might be some thread or other she could follow.
Other than drink coffee and eat cake, she wasn’t sure what else she could do.
‘Everything all right, is it, love?’
She looked up to see Vicky wiping down a table opposite.
‘Yes, thanks. Gorgeous cake – did you make it?’
‘I did, I make them all,’ replied Vicky proudly, coming over to her table. ‘I’m glad you like it.’ She paused, looking down at Gemma’s laptop. ‘Willow mentioned you’re staying with them at the moment, is that right?’
Gemma nodded. ‘I arrived the day before yesterday.’ She pulled a face and pointed to her foot. ‘A great start, as you can see.’
‘Can’t say I fully understand what they’re trying to do, but good luck to them, I say. They’re a lovely couple.’
‘They are. They’ve certainly been very welcoming.’
‘So, just helping them out, are you?’
Gemma nodded. ‘That’s the plan, although falling over and twisting my ankle definitely wasn’t a part of it.
I’m more of a hindrance than a help at the moment.
’ She pointed at the laptop. ‘So I’m doing some research instead.
Trying to find out what might have been on the site many years ago.
Willow thinks there could have been what sounds like an estate there once upon a time. ’
‘I expect there’s been all sorts over the years. Not that I’d know, I’m afraid. I only moved here with my husband about five years ago. You want to ask someone like Merryn. She’s lived here all her life as far as I know.’
‘Merryn?’
‘Penrose. She runs the local history club at the library in town. She must be eighty odd, I reckon, although she still volunteers there twice a week. She’s particularly fond of my Bakewell tart.’
Gemma nodded. ‘She sounds like just the kind of person I need to talk to. Is the library far? Willow might be able to take me if she’s not too busy.’
‘It’s only fifteen minutes or so, by car that is.
’ Vicky checked her watch. ‘But I can do better than that. If you hang on here, I can bring her to you. It’s Tuesday, and she always meets her granddaughter here on a Tuesday.
They shouldn’t be long.’ She smiled. ‘Shall I bring you another cup of coffee while you wait? Or perhaps you’d prefer tea? ’
Gemma paused. At this rate, her research was going to cost her a fortune, and although she had a little money from the advance rent payment on her house, it wouldn’t last long. But she could hardly complain; this was too good an opportunity to waste.
‘Well, that’s perfect,’ she replied. ‘And yes, I’ll have tea this time, please.’
Vicky collected her mug from the table and wiped away an invisible spot with her cloth. ‘I’ll bring a pot,’ she said.
Gemma hadn’t even poured her first cup when her email pinged with a reply from Cat.
Hi Gemma,
Everything is going to be okay, and no, you haven’t just made an enormous mistake. (I’m saying that in the most sincere voice I can muster so make sure you read it that way.) But also, OUCH and WHAT??
I mean, the chickens sound kind of cute (the interesting toilet less so), but how on earth can Leo be there?
I take it you mean Leo – the waste-of-space ex-husband of yours whom you haven’t seen in ages, thank the lord – because I can’t think of any other Leo it might be.
But that is not good, Gemma, not good at all…