stirred and Beth turned onto her side to look at him – her gorgeous boy. He had slept well. He seemed okay even though he was miles away from London but at least he was safe. Maybe everything wasn’t such a disaster after all.
Beth was rethinking that statement later that day as yet another Morris dancer whooped towards her with a handkerchief and an exaggerated wink. Leo was dancing and laughing as if he was high on sugar, which he definitely wasn’t as Beth was fairly strict with both his sugar and fat intake. There had been lots of skipping about, banging of sticks and plenty of very repetitive music but it was quite jolly and Leo loved it. It was all a bit bonkers and quintessentially English, especially when it was performed on a village green.
After a jacket potato for lunch in the hectically busy tearoom, where the unsmiling Maureen served them, Beth decided they should have another look at Willow Cottage. She was really hoping that her brain had exaggerated what she had seen yesterday and now in the full sunshine it wouldn’t be quite so bad. Beth was also keen to see if she could get a look inside because that might actually be better than the exterior would have her believe. With the lure of an apple, Beth persuaded Leo to come and have another look at the cottage. She liked the fact that she didn’t have to answer to Nick, she could do what she wanted here and even if Willow Cottage had been a stupidly impulsive decision, at least it was her own decision. The village was a hive of activity today and there were cars parked everywhere and slow-moving jolly people clogging up every inch. They mingled their way through and, as they reached the pub, someone called to them.
‘Yoo hoo! Hello!’ It was the small elderly lady with the wheelie trolley. Beth looked around but nobody else was acknowledging the woman so she assumed she must have been talking to her.
‘Hello again,’ said Beth, stopping and waiting for the woman to get to her.
‘Now, lovey, tell me again,’ she said, slightly puffed by the effort of the last few steps.
‘Sorry?’ said Beth totally confused.
‘I want to make sure I heard right. What was it you told me yesterday?’
Beth raised an eyebrow, the bag lady was clearly quite potty, poor old soul. ‘I asked you where Willow Cottage was because I’ve recently bought it.’
The old lady burst into hysterics and all Beth and Leo could do was watch her in puzzled bewilderment.
Eventually, after lots of hand waving, she caught her breath and slowed to a chuckle. ‘Oh, my, I haven’t laughed that much since Maureen shat herself at the harvest festival.’ The memory of this event seemed to set her off again. ‘Mittens,’ she said as if remembering something.
‘Right. Well, it was nice to see you again,’ said Beth as she tentatively inched Leo away.
‘She’s funny, Mum,’ observed Leo. ‘She said “shat”! Is that the past tense of …?’
‘Leo!’ warned his mother.
There was no breeze today and the willow tree stood resplendent, a magnificent cascade in shades of summer green. Beth felt herself smile as she stepped over the broken gate, a new one of those couldn’t be that expensive. She made Leo wait there as she peeked into the willow to see if their lodger was in residence. Thankfully he wasn’t.
‘Come on,’ said Beth, her spirits starting to lift as she tried to take Leo’s hand. Leo pulled it away and munched on his apple as they stood and examined the cottage again. She didn’t know what she was looking for. She moved forward to look at the brickwork. On closer inspection it was obviously very old but there were no major cracks that she could spot. Goodness only knows what is under the climbing plants, she thought but for now she couldn’t worry about what she couldn’t see. They squeezed round to the back of the property and Leo immediately went to see the horses, who were soon attracted by his apple and came walking over with interest.
Beth had a closer look at the stable-style back door. It was quite beautiful. She gave it a rattle. It didn’t seem to fit too well in its frame so she gave it a shove. Surely it couldn’t be breaking and entering if it was practically your own house?
From right behind her there came shouting and Beth jumped away from the door as if it were alarmed. Fear punched her in the gut. The old man that had scared them half to death yesterday had come back to finish the job, only this time there was nowhere for Beth and Leo to run. He was blocking their exit down the side of the house. Beth backed away and clutched Leo to her. The horse that had so very nearly made it to the apple made a bolt back across its field.
‘Arghhhhhhh!’ shouted the man. Beth had no idea what to do. Was this village full of mad people? Her heart was racing and she wanted to run but there was nowhere to run to.
She decided to try to be the voice of reason. ‘Look, it’s okay, we’re not burglars. This is our house.’ There was a flicker of recognition although he was still shouting. Leo had his hands pressed tightly over his ears and looked frightened. ‘We’ve bought the cottage,’ said Beth, her voice raised just enough to be heard. ‘It’s ours.’ She pointed to the cottage. The man stopped shouting.
‘No. It’s Wilf’s,’ he said, his words muffled as if he had a speech impediment. Beth remembered the lady in the shop saying something about Wilf yesterday.
‘Yes, it was Wilf’s but he’s sold it to me,’ she explained in what she hoped was a calm and soothing tone. However, this had the opposite effect as the man started to shout again.
‘Arghhhhhhh!’
There was a rustle in the climbing plant and Jack suddenly appeared, his face full of concern. Beth felt the stiffness in her shoulders ebb away as she was so thankful to see someone come to her rescue.
‘Ernie, what’s wrong?’ said Jack to the shouting man, his voice smooth and gentle and far less gruff than the tone he had used towards her when they’d bumped into each other.
Ernie pointed at Beth. ‘Breaking in!’
‘What do you think you’re doing exactly?’ The gruffness instantly returned to Jack’s voice as he turned his attention to Beth.
‘I wasn’t breaking in.’ Well, maybe she had been trying to a little bit but now was not the time to confess all. ‘I was only looking at the cottage, seeing what work would need doing.’
‘This is private property. I suggest you leave.’
Beth felt her eyebrows shoot up involuntarily at the resolve in Jack’s voice.
‘Did you notice what was on the board on the front of the property?’ she asked, starting to feel more in control of the situation as she knew she was about to wrong-foot him.
Jack pulled a face that made one of his eyes squint up and he looked quite comical. ‘It’s a picture of a chicken.’
Beth was starting to get frustrated. ‘No, not that one. The one that shows when the auction was. Well, it was last week and I bought it. So technically you are on my private property and you should leave.’
Jack rubbed his chin. ‘You can’t have completed on this place that quickly,’ he said, as Ernie looked on, his face etched with concern.
‘No, not exactly but everything is going through and we complete next week.’
‘So,
