Chapter 4
Feeling elated that I’d now not only seen the front of Fernside, but also inside a small part of it, I left Constance delicately devouring a chocolate éclair and drove back to the gated entrance of the woods, which was just a short distance away from the house drive.
I hadn’t really paid any attention to it when I’d spotted the for sale sign, but there was an area next to the boundary of the woods that was hardstanding and large enough for at least half a dozen cars to park on.
Constance had informed me that I could park there, and I hoped it was also included in the sale.
It needed clearing and tidying, but it would be a genuine bonus if it was.
I had been worried about parking, but this off-road area would be more than adequate and a big tick on the list I’d started to mentally make.
I had so much adrenaline coursing through my system that my hands were shaking as I adjusted the straps on my rucksack, and my heart was beating hard again as I climbed over the locked gate that I hadn’t thought to ask for the key to. I stopped for a moment and pulled in a deep breath.
These woods, set in the very part of the country I loved most, had the potential to help fulfil both my childhood dream and the brand-new business idea I’d dreamt up during the night, so I needed to assess them objectively.
However, the fluttering feeling in my chest suggested that was going to be tricky because my heart, as well as my head, was already trying to talk me into buying them, no matter what I now discovered.
I planted my feet to help me feel more grounded, closed my eyes and began to breathe in for three and out for six while my senses slowly tuned in to what I could smell and hear.
There was a fragrant scent of wild honeysuckle on the breeze which stirred the leaves of the trees, and a blackbird melodiously singing somewhere.
Given the heat of the day, it wasn’t a surprise that I couldn’t hear more birds, but I had a feeling they were there, watching me from afar and no doubt wondering what I was doing on their patch.
‘Okay,’ I said softly as, feeling a bit calmer and certainly more connected, I opened my eyes again and blinked. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got, shall we?’
As always when I ventured into woodland, it didn’t take many moments for my heart rate to further settle and a sense of tranquillity to descend.
I hadn’t been sure my heart was going to behave on this occasion, because there was so much at stake, but it was soon tamed.
The air beneath the trees felt marginally cooler than on the road, and the sunlight, which was dappled thanks to the dense green canopy, was a soothing and gentle balm to my excited jitteriness.
I was desperate that Willowell Woods would turn out to be what I hoped for, but I couldn’t afford to be blinkered if I came across any issues that suggested it wasn’t the best place for me.
I resisted the urge to cross my fingers and carried on exploring, mindful that there were already tendrils of connection reaching out to me that went way beyond the usual contentment I felt when walking in woods such as these.
The first thing I noticed was the most obvious; the wonderful variety of established trees. Some of the oaks, with their huge, gnarled and twisted trunks, looked almost ancient, and there was beech, hawthorn, hazel, holly and elder, too.
I pressed my hands to the bark of one of the tallest oaks and thought about all the changes in the landscape, and indeed the world, that would have occurred since it was an acorn.
It was miraculous that it had survived, and as I looked up into its branches, I wondered how many species of insects, birds and mammals a tree of such magnificence supported in its lifetime.
Along with the trees I also noted an abundance of wildflowers.
Some varieties were in flower, while others were waiting to bloom or already had.
Cow parsley, ragged robin, toadflax, vetch, foxgloves, oxeye daisies and common knapweed flourished and there were other plants I didn’t know the names of.
There was evidence of squirrels and foxes, and I could only guesstimate the number of birds flitting about.
There were probably bats, too, and perhaps even a badger sett tucked away somewhere.
On the surface, it all looked idyllic, but I could see that the woods weren’t perfect.
Practically all the paths that were man-made were impossible to clearly make out, and impassable in some places because of the encroaching nettles and brambles, and there were a few tree limbs that needed taking down.
And ivy, left unchecked, was rampant. A couple of the trees appeared to be all but strangled by it, and a large pond, located roughly at what I guessed was the centre of the woods, was stagnant.
Where there could have been irises and dragonflies in abundance, I spotted nothing more exciting than the odd fly.
‘Coppicing and brush cutting,’ I muttered as I moved on, adding more things to my mental checklist as I ran my hands lightly over the bark of the trees and looked up into the canopy, ‘and repairs to the owl boxes.’
The list was becoming extensive, but nothing was beyond salvaging or, for me at least, detracted from the beauty and magic of the place. Once the tasks were completed and some light made its way back in, every bit of the woods would start to flourish again.
The entire area had obviously been loved once, so what had happened? I remembered again what Melody had let slip about the Fernside finances. If Constance didn’t have the coffers to make the, so far unseen, repairs to the house, she certainly didn’t have the money to maintain the woods, did she?
‘But I might,’ I whispered, as I continued to explore.
The set-up that I was dreaming of wouldn’t be easy to achieve.
I already knew that getting approval to run a business in woods wasn’t a walk in the park and there would be the issue of gaining planning permission to erect some sort of building that I would want to use as a base to contend with, too.
Nothing would be straightforward, but the connection I felt to both the village and now the woods that bore their name made the prospect of the challenge worth fighting for.
‘I’d better engage warrior mode and start polishing my shield.’ I smiled as I made my slow way back towards where I thought I’d parked my car. ‘There could be a battle ahead.’
I must have walked off course at some point, thanks to the overgrown paths, but it didn’t matter, because what I discovered completely took my breath away.
‘I don’t believe it!’ I gasped, as I rushed through the undergrowth, ignoring the sharp scratch that tore through my cotton trousers. ‘Why did Constance not mention this?’
Positioned ahead of me and in its own clearing – or what would be a clearing when the area was managed again – was a large wooden cabin-style building with a chimney in the roof.
The windows were covered in a thick coating of grime on the outside and dust on the inside, but I rubbed at one of the panes with a tissue from my rucksack and, shielding my eyes from the light, peered inside.
I could make out a large open space with a log burning stove in a cage at its centre and possibly a separate room, or even two, towards the back.
The whole place was dusty and covered in huge cobwebs, but depending on what it had been used for before, it might just be the fulfilment of the wish I hadn’t even yet dared to properly make.
A building, put up with the proper planning permission, already on the site, would make Constance’s asking price far too low, but if a business of some sort had been run from it in the past, then it might potentially cut through a whole lot of red tape.
‘I need to talk to Constance,’ I gulped. ‘Now, where did I park my car?’
I didn’t bother with the front of the house but slipped through the gate and quietly knocked on the back door.
It was far later than I had realised once I’d finally made my way out of the woods where the birds were chattily settling down for the night and, not knowing if Constance went to bed early, I didn’t want to startle or disturb her.
I needn’t have worried though, because she snatched open the sunroom door practically the moment I’d appeared.
‘I’d all but given up on you,’ she tutted. ‘I thought you’d had your look around and left.’
‘I had my look around,’ I told her. ‘But I got a bit lost trying to find my way out.’
‘Lost?’ She frowned, as if the idea was absurd. ‘What’s happened to your leg?’
I looked down and found the scratch I’d received when bowling towards the wooden building had run deep and my trousers, as well as torn, were now bloody.
‘I had an argument with a bramble.’ I winced, feeling the sting of it now I knew it was there.
‘You should have stuck to the path.’
‘Easier said than done,’ I muttered, as I tried to pull the fabric away from where it had stuck to my skin.
‘What was that?’ Constance demanded.
‘Never mind.’
‘Well, come in,’ she said and walked back into the house. ‘You can clean your leg up and put the kettle on again.’
I insisted my leg was fine when Constance couldn’t locate her first aid kit and my tummy growled as I made another pot of tea, but dinner would have to wait.
The only evidence I could see that Constance had consumed more than the éclair I’d left her eating was a jammy spoon and a whiff of toast in the air.
Even though it wasn’t my business, I wondered again if she was being looked after or was able to properly look after herself.
‘So, how did you find the place?’ she asked, as I handed her a cup and saucer containing properly made tea without instruction, this time.
She was settled in an armchair that had lost most of its stuffing and she looked much smaller cocooned in the depths of it than when she was standing up, and she wasn’t overly tall then.