8. Esme sets her stall out
ESME SETS HER STALL OUT
Oh that smile of Anton’s in those early days. So shy and unsure. So heartbreaking. Funny to think that he’d rescued her with those photos. In those first few months, it often felt like she was rescuing him. Although she couldn’t have said what from.
Ursula thought she could hear a baby crying close by.
Andi hadn’t mentioned there were children here.
She packed the past away in the dark corners of her mind and pulled herself back into the present.
The figure was still up on the hill but the woman in the garden was gone.
Another of those cries was interrupted by the sound of a gong coming from downstairs. Lunch must be ready.
Something brushed past Ursula’s legs as she opened the door to go down.
A third cry announced that whatever it was, it was in the room.
She followed the sound to her bed. A black cat, long, sleek and skinny, was perched on top of it.
‘Well, hello to you,’ she said, but the cat had already curled up into a ball and closed its eyes.
She left the door ajar so that it could get out and went downstairs.
There were four people in the kitchen. A young man was scrubbing his hands at the sink and a young woman, the same one from the garden, was standing by the table watching Andi and Don set out the plates.
Don pulled out a chair for Ursula. ‘Come and eat. It’s just a simple leftover collation. Nothing too elaborate.’
The young man dried his hands and gave Ursula a friendly nod. ‘Hi, I’m Brett.’
‘And this is Esme,’ said Andi.
Esme took a seat next to Andi and said nothing.
Don and Brett sat down too but there were still empty places at the table.
One of them would have been Pablo’s, of course.
Ursula noticed everyone except Esme was looking at her.
They were probably expecting her to say something.
She ignored her inner nervousness and put on her veil smile.
‘Hello everyone. I’m very pleased to meet you.
Thank you so much for welcoming me into your home. ’
‘You’re in my room,’ said Esme, without looking up.
Andi leaned closer to Esme. ‘Esme, you know that’s not true.’
‘I wanted it.’
‘Tough. We took a vote and you were outnumbered. That’s how democracy works,’ said Don.
‘I don’t mind moving.’ Under the table, Ursula stroked her left wrist with her right thumb. Her pulse was racing and she was trying to calm it down without drawing attention to herself.
Andi held up her hand. ‘That won’t be necessary. We decided as a group that we wanted to save it for guests. Didn’t we, Esme?’
‘Yes. I was just saying, that’s all.’ Esme sent a scowl Ursula’s way and Ursula was reminded of something Andi had said in one of their calls about someone not behaving nicely. It didn’t take a genius to guess who that someone was.
‘So, the bad news on the bothy is it’s worse than I thought.
The good news is I can make it good but it’s gonna to take me a while,’ said Brett, ignoring Esme’s outburst. Unlike Don, he was English, from the London area probably.
Esme too. Ursula wondered if they were together. They’d be an odd couple if they were.
‘Brett’s trying to repair a bothy that’s been falling down for ages.’ Andi directed the explanation at Ursula.
‘I’ve got a few hours spare if you need some help,’ said Don.
‘Cheers. Howard said he’d give me a hand as well,’ said Brett.
Howard. Wasn’t that the name of the man in the café?
Andi piled some salad onto her plate. ‘Howard’s one of our other guests. He visits every year. He doesn’t always come back for lunch.’
‘I think I saw him up on the hill earlier,’ said Brett.
Andi nodded. ‘Yes, that would make sense.’
If Esme’s rudeness over lunch was anything to go by, then Andi had been playing down her apparent edginess.
In the space of an hour, Ursula had been on the receiving end of at least five separate dirty looks.
But years of practice had made her an expert at ignoring dirty looks.
It was the sudden verbal attack that had shocked her and made her wish for the safe haven of her little allotment.
It was just after two-thirty. If she was back there now, she’d be making a coffee to sit outside if the weather was dry, inside the shed if it wasn’t.
Her afternoon routine, coffee at two-thirty with another biscuit and her thoughts.
But she wasn’t there, she was here with Andi and these strangers and, thankfully, lunch was over.
Esme had stomped off somewhere, presumably to have a big sulk.
The men had gone to the bothy and Andi was promising a tour of the grounds.
Ursula went back up to her room to fetch her boots and coat.
Her return roused the sleeping cat. It jumped down and rubbed against her legs, pushing its head into her hand as she stroked its glossy fur.
She had to watch her step as it followed her downstairs, winding around her legs and nearly tripping her up.
Andi was waiting in the hall. ‘Ah, Charlie’s made himself known to you, I see.’
‘He’s been sleeping on my bed. His name’s Charlie?’
‘Charlie Big Potatoes, actually. Don named him.’
‘Is that because he thinks he can do whatever he likes?’
‘Not exactly, but that’s not a bad description of him. He belongs to someone else. We’re not sure who, but he likes to pop in and eat us out of house and home. No, the reason Don called him that is because he hasn’t lost his manhood yet. He’s still very much a Charlie Big Potatoes.’
Charlie Big Potatoes followed them out of the house and found a bench to sit on by the vegetable garden.
In actual fact, calling it a garden was overselling it.
It was more of a sorry-looking patch with very few edible vegetables.
Andi noticed her looking it over. ‘It was better when Pab was managing it. Esme looks after it now. When she’s had time to get used to you, perhaps you can give her some advice.
I think she could do with some. Maybe tactfully. ’
‘Understood. How long do you think it will be before she gets used to me?’
‘Hard to say. You can never tell with Esme.’
Andi took her around the rest of the garden, pointing out the chicken run and a small field with a few goats.
Once they were out of the garden, they were in a meadow walking towards the hill that Ursula had seen from the bedroom window.
She looked up at the spot where the figure had been standing earlier, the figure she now knew was the mysterious Howard.
That was a relief. For a while she’d thought Anton might have followed her here.
It sounded ridiculous but she knew better than to underestimate Anton.
A trek along a beaten path took them a little further up the hill to a small tumbledown building.
What was left of it was made from grey boulder-like stone.
Brett and Don were busy taking apart the remainder of the back wall.
Their progress was being monitored by a sheepdog, its white coat splattered with black, grey and bluish patches.
On seeing Andi and Ursula, it ran over to them, its tail wagging excitedly.
Andi patted the dog’s back. ‘This is Esteban. No sign of Howard yet?’
Brett shook his head. ‘I think he’s still up there. I guess he’ll come down when he’s ready.’
Andi gazed upwards. ‘Well, I hope he doesn’t leave it too long. There’s another wave of rain coming in and this one’s going to last all night.’
The rain had already begun by the time an electric-blue Corsa joined the other cars on the drive.
Ursula was on her own in the lounge, sending her promised message to Clyde.
A fire had been lit and the smell of burning coal filled the room, making her think for the first time in years of the house in Four Oaks.
They’d had a big fire in the lounge, or the sitting room, as her father had called it.
He’d been very keen on calling things by their proper name.
Yes, he’d been a man who liked things done properly.
Unless it came to himself. He was very much above his own laws in that regard.
She heard the front door opening and two accents.
One, the dulcet, lyrical sound of a Welsh woman.
The other, a man’s, deeper, American. The lounge door opened.
Megan from the café bustled in, followed by Andi and Don.
‘Nearly ran over him on the road, I did. Daft sod. I told him this morning, don’t be out late, there’s a storm coming. Didn’t I tell you, Howard?’
The American walked in, his face and hair wet. ‘You did, Megan, you did. I guess I just got carried away.’ He saw Ursula and gave her another of those barely perceptible nods.
‘It’s a good job I was on my way home, otherwise you’d have been soaked to death by the time you reached here.
Anyway, I can’t stop. Gareth’s doing a paella tonight.
I told him, it’s hardly Mediterranean weather, but you know what he’s like when he gets an idea in his head.
’ Megan took a breath and spotted Ursula at the same time.
‘Oh, it’s you. I did wonder in the café this morning, didn’t I, Howard?
I said, I wonder if that’s your new guest.’
‘And you were right. You must be Ursula. I’m Howard.
’ He shook Ursula’s hand. She watched his fingers closing around her palm, his knuckles bulging and looking like they might burst out of his skin.
They made her think of her old friend Samuel and the way he would pluck a delicate seedling between his long, thick fingers and replant it as though it were the most fragile of treasures.
Which of course it was, as far as Samuel was concerned.
Dinner was a strain. Esme was intent on making Ursula feel unwelcome and no one seemed to notice except Don who was clearly irritated on her behalf.
Howard said very little and was constantly checking his phone.
Brett was out, and Andi’s head was obviously somewhere else.
All the way here, Ursula had imagined a big reunion with Andi.
She’d expected tears and a long heartfelt talk, and perhaps that was what Andi had planned for this evening but Ursula didn’t have it in her to wait around for it.
Esme’s behaviour was beginning to get to her.
She wasn’t equipped to deal with such animosity.
Neither was she equipped for so many new encounters.
She’d known there were other people living in the house but she hadn’t imagined they would be quite so present.
They were like a family, and a very fractious one at that.
It was all a bit too much. When the meal was finally over, she made excuses about being tired after her long drive and went to bed.