Chapter 9
As soon as Ashley had gone, Gemma typed in the web address for the county archive and waited impatiently for it to load.
She hadn’t heard back from Willow yet so there was still time to alter their arrangements if she needed to, but she would check the site first. It might turn out to be completely useless.
She looked up as Vicky appeared to take away the empty tea things.
‘Have you found anything?’ she asked.
‘Not yet, but Ashley gave me the details for the county archive so I can check it myself. I’m just waiting for it to load now.’
‘That was kind of her.’
Gemma nodded. ‘I think she felt a little awkward… you know, because her nan was a bit…’ She made a face at Vicky, who gave an apologetic smile.
‘Sorry. You were probably wondering why on earth I’d set you up with her, but I didn’t want to warn you what she was like because, well, some days Merryn can be really very lovely.
Polite, friendly, generous even… It’s just that on others she seems to arrive having spent several minutes beforehand sharpening her tongue.
’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘You’re never really sure which version you’re going to get, that’s the problem. ’
‘Don’t worry, I can take care of myself, but it was the way she treated her granddaughter that I didn’t like. Doesn’t Ashley ever stand up for herself?’
‘If she does, I’ve never heard her,’ replied Vicky. ‘Perhaps it’s easier to let it go over her head.’
‘I’m sure it is, but it doesn’t help the situation in the long run, does it?
Maybe if she took Merryn to task on the odd occasion, the old lady would learn some better manners.
’ She sighed. ‘Sorry… I’ll get off my soapbox now.
I just don’t like that kind of behaviour from anyone, whatever their age.
But it’s none of my business. I’ve only been here five minutes, and look at me. ’
‘Nothing wrong with caring about people.’
‘Hmm… But I have a horrible tendency to try to fix things, and sometimes they can’t be fixed. Sometimes you just have to let them lie or you’ll drive yourself crazy.’
Vicky smiled. ‘There speaks the voice of a woman with a story to tell.’
Gemma shook her head. ‘Haven’t we all? Mine’s nothing special.’ She watched as Vicky rearranged the dirty teacups on her tray. ‘Sorry, I should let you get on,’ she said, checking her watch. ‘I expect the lunchtime rush will start soon.’
‘I can bring you some more tea, if you’d like? On the house.’
‘Oh…’ Gemma blushed. ‘That’s very kind, but—’
‘It’s the least I can do,’ added Vicky quickly.
‘Willow supplies me with eggs, you see. She says they’re surplus, and I’m not sure I entirely believe that, but what she doesn’t use at home, she brings here.
Rowan brings me the odd loaf of bread, too, so a few drinks on the house and free WiFi every now and again are more than a fair trade. ’
Gemma tapped a finger to the side of her nose. ‘Say no more,’ she said. ‘As long as you’re sure I’m not in the way.’
Vicky waved an airy hand. ‘Of course not. And, as it happens, Rowan dropped a loaf off first thing this morning, so how about I make you a sandwich to go with your tea? Cheese and pickle do you?’
‘Perfect.’
Gemma smiled to herself as she settled back down to her task. She had a feeling that Willow would never have mentioned her and Vicky’s little arrangement unless, like now, Gemma found out, but she liked that. It restored a little of her faith in humanity.
Returning her attention to the screen, Gemma studied the information on the county archive home page, but it was clear that, while it might be a repository for a great many documents and photos, the council hadn’t bothered to make it particularly user-friendly.
There was a search function, but typing Thistledown into it returned a bland message that her search term was too specific.
Opening another browser tab, she brought up a map of the local area, zooming in until she could see the individual villages and hamlets that surrounded her. She needed to focus on a particular geographical area, but not one so specific it didn’t return any results.
She tried the name of the village – St Cleer – with no success, then a couple of other nearby place names, with the same result.
It wasn’t until she selected the largest nearby town of Liskeard that she managed to return any results at all.
She clicked on a link, and then another, groaning as she did so.
A drop-down list appeared, with a further set of sub-lists…
It was like a set of Russian dolls, except that, instead of five or six dolls nesting inside the largest one, each doll inside also held twenty or so others.
That wouldn’t have been so bad were it not for the fact that each of the largest dolls stood in a line made up of fifty or so identical ones.
Searching through them all could take a very long time indeed, and there was still no guarantee that she would find anything at the end of it.
She sighed. She was still looking for a needle in a haystack, but at least she might have found the right stack.
Having fired off another message to Willow changing their arrangements, Gemma pulled her laptop a little closer, adjusted the way her foot was resting on the floor and settled down to work.
‘How’s it going?’
Leo pulled out the chair opposite Gemma and dropped onto it, smiling at her from across the table.
For a moment, she was completely at sea.
One minute she was deep in concentration, almost cross-eyed from peering at blurry maps and documents covered in tiny copperplate writing, and the next she was face to face with a man who had to be pulled forcibly back into her memory.
She had almost forgotten his reappearance.
She stared at him. He might have resurfaced in her life but he certainly shouldn’t be here, in the tearoom.
‘Where’s Willow?’ she asked.
Leo shrugged. ‘I have no idea. I assume back at the farm.’
‘So she didn’t send you?’
He looked puzzled. ‘Why would she do that?’
‘Because we made an arrangement that once I was done here she would pick me up.’ She shook her head. ‘But it doesn’t matter. Why are you here?’
‘I was just passing. I looked in through the window, saw you and thought I’d say hello.’
‘Really? You were just passing?’
‘Incredibly, yes I was.’ He held up a bag from where it had been lying on his lap.
‘I’ve been to the hardware shop, and I was on my way back to my van, which is parked over there…
’ He swivelled in his seat, pointing out of the tearoom window to a line of cars parked a little distance away. ‘Is that okay?’
Gemma held his look for a moment, but then dropped her gaze back to the computer screen, pretending to be engrossed in what she saw there. Of course it was okay, and he was right to challenge her, but—
‘And you didn’t answer my question,’ added Leo before she could reply. ‘I asked you how it was going. Have you found anything?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve found a place to look,’ she said.
‘But that’s as far as I’ve got. I don’t think it’s going to be as simple as we thought.
There aren’t any references to Thistledown that I could find, and so now I’m basically trawling through the county archive, searching anything that relates to the right area.
Trouble is, a lot of the information is quite hard to read, or make sense of. I’ve been here for hours.’
Leo gave her an apologetic smile. ‘I thought it might be interesting to find out more of the farm’s history, but perhaps there’s none to find.
We all want the place to be special. I mean, it is special to all of us, but I think we hoped there’d be something more…
remarkable about it.’ He pulled a face. ‘Maybe it is just a derelict farmhouse and a bunch of fields.’ He looked at his watch.
‘Did you say you were waiting for Willow to pick you up? I can drop you home if you like, save her the bother.’
Gemma was torn. She had planned on working for at least another hour or so. Plus, she really didn’t want to be confined in a small space with Leo, but she couldn’t in all conscience get Willow to come and fetch her when there was no need. She smiled briefly.
‘I probably am done here,’ she said. ‘At least for today. Are you sure it’s no trouble?’
‘It isn’t…’ He paused. ‘And you look tired. How’s your ankle?’
‘A little sore.’ It was throbbing and had been for a while.
‘Come on then, let’s get you home.’
He waited while she packed up her laptop, sliding it into her bag along with her reading glasses, notebook and pen. Then, without speaking, he scooped it up and slung it over his shoulder, offering Gemma a hand so she could extricate herself from the table.
She clutched at the walking stick, using it and the back of the chair to lever herself upward, leaving Leo’s hand exactly where it was.
She hadn’t put any weight on her foot for several hours now and she was not looking forward to doing so one little bit.
She clenched her teeth together and took a deep breath.
‘Steady now…’
Leo was suddenly behind her, both arms ready to provide assistance. How did he even move that fast?
‘Can we not do this?’ she muttered.
‘Do what?’
‘This… acting all solicitous and caring, the cheerful smiling… We’re not married any more.’
Leo raised both hands. ‘Forgive me. I’m little confused, because this, this feels just like old times. So much so it’s hard to tell the difference.’
He walked away, leaving her stranded in the middle of the room.
The tearoom door looked about a mile away and she swallowed, closing her eyes in silent reproach.
Every painful step was a pen sharply underlining Leo’s words, scoring them deeper into her head where she knew they would sit for hours until the imprint of them eventually faded away.