bloom and the garden looks splendid. And having you here with me? It’s going to be just like the old days.’ Esme stopped abruptly when she saw the expression that flickered across Jessica’s face. ‘Well, not exactly like the old days of course… Things are different now…’ She trailed off awkwardly.
‘It’s okay,’ Jessica decided as they passed a few homes on either side of the lane. ‘We’re not going to be able to avoid it forever. Anyway, we’ve talked about me. What about you? What have you been doing since I’ve been gone?’
Esme waved to an elderly woman who was watering flowers in her front garden. ‘Well, I’ve just been pottering about, really. Nothing much has changed for me.’
‘And are you still enjoying living in Bluebell Hill?’
Esme stopped abruptly. ‘I am, more so now because you’re here. Do you know Jessica, not a single day went by where I didn’t think of you, or wonder how you were, or how life was treating you. I’d always hoped that you’d return to Bluebell Hill sooner, but I also knew, deep down, that you wouldn’t. I knew how desperate you were to get away, so why on earth would you come back?’
Jessica nodded slowly, unsure of how to reply. She knew that nothing would excuse the way she’d ran off and ignored Esme’s existence once she’d settled in London. The only answer she had was that she’d been so desperate to get away from it all and the strength of that desperation had led to forcing away the memory of Bluebell Hill, including the people who lived there. She felt guilty that Esme had held such hope that she’d return to visit, and that she’d never phoned or sent a letter, just to let her know that she’d been okay. She guessed she’d just got carried away with it all, and who could blame her for taking her new and exciting life with both hands and living it to the full?
***
Esme beamed with pride as she looked upon her home. She paused in front of it and beckoned Jessica forward to share in her delight. Although the exterior of Esme’s cottage was a bit crumbly, the celebration of colour surrounding it was enough to make any passer-by stop and stare and completely overlook the cottage itself.
Ruby reds, luscious pinks, dandelion yellows and sun-kissed oranges, it was layer upon layer of rainbow-like chaos and it took Jessica’s breath away as she stood still and admired it with an open mouth, seriously impressed.
‘It’s probably in need of a tidy-up,’ Esme commented as they drew near and Jessica was able to see the ivy crawling over the roof and the stone exterior of the cottage. It was a fairy-tale home through and through. Esme pushed open the wooden gate which emitted a small squeak and ducked beneath the wooden trellis, ivy twisting in and out of the framework prettily, tiny bursts of vivid colour poking through the greenery.
‘No, I think it looks lovely as it is. It’s so beautiful.’
Esme smiled. ‘I’m so glad you like it, dear. It’s my favourite thing to look at. No doubt it’ll grow even wilder once summer is here. I can’t wait to see it. Anyway, come inside and let’s have a cup of tea. I need to check on that stew, don’t want to overcook it, especially as it’s your “Welcome home!” meal.’
Esme breezed into the cottage, humming a merry tune as she disappeared. Left alone, Jessica felt the old familiar feeling of being at home coming over her. Esme and her cottage were capable of that. They always had been. She closed her eyes momentarily and allowed the moment to wash over her, revelling in the sense of calm. Before following Esme inside, she freed her phone from her pocket and tapped out a quick text to Sarah.
‘Here now. It feels okay, not as bad I thought, although still a bit scary. Hope you’re okay. Will keep you updated. J x’
Her phone beeped almost instantly and she smiled as she opened the message and read it, imagining the words being read aloud in Sarah’s voice.
‘Missing you already. You can do this, I promise. Just think of those rugged men fanning us with giant palm leaves on a tropical beach. If that doesn’t help, then I’m here whenever you need me. S x’
Phone back in pocket, she made her way up the cobble-stones and into the cottage.
***
Over a bowl of steaming beef stew later that evening, Jessica curled up in one of the two armchairs that sat beside the crackling fireplace in her pyjamas and listened to Esme as she talked about her friend Jane who had recently fallen ill. It was clear that Esme was very fond of Jane. She hadn’t stopped talking about her since they’d sat down. Jessica guessed that Esme was trying to fill the space between them with chatter, avoiding the tricky subjects.
‘I’ve been popping in and out, making Jane baskets full of food to eat while she recuperates,’ Esme continued. ‘She’s a very close friend of mine and such a lovely old dear, but she’s so lonely. Her husband, Rupert, passed away a couple of years ago, and since then, she’s been steadily going downhill.’ Esme frowned. ‘I think me visiting her is probably the only thing that she has to look forward to. Oh, but we do have a good old natter when we’re together and I enjoy the company myself. I’m just grateful to have a friend.’ Esme dipped a slice of bread into her stew and stared into the flickering flames in the fireplace as she ate, lost in her thoughts and memories.
‘She’s lucky to have you, and you her,’ Jessica commented as she finished off her own bowl of stew. It was one of the truest things she had ever said. Since she could remember, Esme had always been one of the kindest, most genuine women she’d ever met. She had a heart of a gold, arms that were made for carrying children to bed when they’d long since fallen asleep and a face that could make you spill all of your secrets. She was trustworthy and honest, too. Some of the best traits a person could have.
‘Did you still speak to my parents once I left?’ Jessica blurted out once the silence had stretched on for too long. She’d been dying to ask the question. She had to know, and they needed to address the subject.
‘I did.’ Esme nodded slowly. ‘Only very rarely, though. I popped up to Bluebell House every now and again but a lot of the time they were out at work. Sometimes I’d stroll up there and look at the house, remembering my days spent there. Thinking of you. Probably would have looked like a crazy woman if anyone had ever seen me standing there like that but I have an old, sentimental heart and it likes to return to the past sometimes.’
‘That night, once I’d left for London, what happened afterwards?’ Jessica sat up a little straighter and moved closer towards Esme. She was eager to hear the answer to her question. She’d always wondered about it, whenever she’d allowed herself to think about all that had happened back then. She placed her bowl onto the floor beside the armchair. ‘What did they say to you when they realised I wasn’t there? Did they want to know where I had gone? Did they seem bothered? I mean, I’d been expecting them to come and drag me right back but... I heard nothing, Esme. I gave up in the end. On hoping to hear from them, I mean. I felt stupid. I suppose I’d hoped for some attention from them for once in my life, but it was pointless for me to want that, wasn’t it? What did they say to you, Esme? Anything?’ She could hear the desperation in her voice. She didn’t like the sound of it but she couldn’t help it.
Esme clasped her hands together in her lap as if preparing herself for the conversation. ‘When I returned from the station on the night you left, Bluebell House was empty, as it so often was. They were both still working at the hospital so I waited until gone midnight for them to return. When they eventually did, I told them that I needed to have a word in the kitchen. I explained that you’d left, and then passed on the letter that you’d written. They read it together and afterwards, they
