‘It’s beautiful,’ Ava insisted, and she meant it. In her mind, the place of their youth was still there. It just needed to be rediscovered; she didn’t want to hear it being dismissed out of hand.
Henry didn’t respond. Instead, he turned to face her, his brow furrowed. ‘Ava, since my return to Dapplebury, I’ve wanted to talk to you.’
Ava went to speak, but Henry continued, ‘I need you to know how sorry I am for what happened.’
‘Henry, really it’s—’
‘I should have stood up for you on the day my mother discovered us, and I didn’t. You were my best, my only friend. My time with you, in the woods and here, was everything to me.You kept me sane and then . . . I stood by. I should have defended you, us.’
‘It was a long time ago.’
‘Don’t say that like that makes it all right.’ Henry held her arms, his eyes searching hers. ‘It wasn’t all right, and I want you to know I won’t let you down again.’
Ava looked into his imploring eyes, feeling his ragged breath against her cheek.
‘Henry—’
As Myrtle barked, both Ava and Henry turned to see Granger trundling out from the trees behind them. At first, Ava smiled, readying herself to find the dog a treat, but as Ted followed, she hesitated. She had known the gardener for many years since she and Henry were children. He had turned a blind eye to her visits, both then and now. She didn’t fear his approach, but she did fear the grave expression on his face, and the increased pace with which he was closing the distance between them, causing his awkward gait to be more pronounced. She knew something was wrong. ‘I should go!’
‘It’s just Ted,’ Henry said, his frustration at the interruption clear from his tone. But as Ted’s ashen face came more clearly into view, Henry ran to meet him.
The dogs and Ava followed.
‘Henry . . . you’re wanted up at the house. It’s your father.’ Ted shook his head. ‘I’m sorry lad.’
Ava noticed the sadness in the older man’s eyes as he spoke and felt an ache in her chest for him and for Henry.
‘Go. You have to go,’ she urged.
Henry looked at her, clearly torn between wanting to stay and the need to leave.
‘Run on lad, I’ll follow,’ Ted added, seemingly misinterpreting Henry’s reluctance to leave.
‘You have to go,’ Ava repeated.
Walking a few paces backwards before turning, Henry took off at a sprint back along the path and through the trees. Granger and Ted followed behind. Calling Myrtle to her side, Ava bent to hold on to the dog’s collar and slipped her lead on. They stood alone, as the woods fell silent, in the wake of the commotion. Ava shuddered. Goosebumps pricked her skin, and she knew she was feeling what Flo would describe as the chill wind of change.
Chapter Twelve
‘I’m just not sure it’s the right time.’ Ava looked across the bar to Gino, who was visibly crushed at her not sharing his enthusiasm.
Mary put her rhubarb gin down on the bar. ‘But you can’t deny February fourteenth is the ideal time to celebrate Valentine’s Day. And combining that with an Italian themed night to launch the more suitably named “Around the World in Eight Gourmets” initiative does make sense.’
‘Yes, of course, it all makes sense,’ Ava conceded. ‘But I just think with Lord Bramlington passing and much of the village still in mourning, we should give it a bit more time.’ Ava gestured towards the elderly gentlemen at the end of the bar. The two men had been readily sharing their connections with the late Lord Bramlington with all who would listen for the past two weeks. Picking at the edge of her bar mat — made moist by the condensation slipping down the outside of her Coke — she continued, ‘It just feels . . .’
‘Like the whole village needs to lift its spirits?’ Mary enthused.
‘Trovate sempre il tempo per dedicarvi alle cose chi vi rendono felici.’
Both Ava and Mary looked at Gino, awaiting the translation.
‘Always find time for the things that make you feel happy to be alive!’ He smiled, before continuing, ‘Good food, good friends, love and—’
‘Money in the till?’ Mary laughed before dodging the bar towel Gino threw at her.
Shaking his head, Gino conceded, ‘OK, that too. But I think we could all do with a lift, don’t you? Spreading some love might be what we . . . the village needs.’
‘And, I’m not one to gossip,’ Pauline butted in, having clearly been listening to their conversation, ‘but I’ve heardhe’sback.’
