Disgruntled, Pippa tossed the covers back. There was no denying it; she was awake. Braving the icy air, she darted to the bathroom to chance a shower. Thankfully the pressure was decent and the temperature warm, although the pipes did make an awful racket. Pippa washed quickly, not entirely confident that the plumbing wouldn’t crash down around her ears if she didn’t.
Once finished, teeth chattering, she dressed in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, shoving freezing feet into fluffy socks and slippers.
“Coffee,” she told herself. She creaked open the door and emerged into the hallway. What few windows there were, were covered in heavy drapes, rendering the hallway unnaturally dark. Pippa was able to make her way downstairs whereupon she drew the curtains to allow daylight in. With each drape she opened, the pale morning light reminded her just how empty the place was. Pippa shivered. There was all manner of nooks and crannies for someone to hide in. “Don’t be silly,” she chastised herself. “You’re entirely alone.”
Still, Pippa did another check to ensure the front door was locked before she ventured into the kitchen, trying not to get lost in staring at the vast bleakness of the darkened moors beyond the kitchen window. How had it come to this? She was alone in this freezing, albeit stunning place, with the ghost of her romantic past miles away, living his supposed dream without her. It was so far removed from what she’d ever imagined for her life as she approached the age of thirty.
The kettle boiled and as she stirred the coffee, she looked around the kitchen, noting small cracks in the window. She frowned; no wonder the place was so bloody cold! Wrapping her fingers around her hot mug, Pippa trailed around the house, catching sight of her pale form in the occasional mirror or reflective surface, pale and solitary like a lonely ghost. It did nothing to improve her mood, nor did it make the house appear any more favourable. In the uninterrupted coolness of the early morning, Pippa could clearly see every flaw, every point of neglect. Not a single room had a window that wasn’t damaged and despite the protective covers over the furniture that remained, she could see glimpses of cracked leather or leaking stuffing. More than one room smelled faintly of damp. Floorboards creaked at every turn and when she finally slumped wearily on the sofa in front of the ancient TV, Pippa found herself swallowing tears. Sadness oozed from every pore of this fine house and what was more, it was contagious.
This was not the house she remembered. Although she’d never so much as crossed the threshold until this point, she’d always viewed Squires as a beacon of perfect happiness, of aspiration. Now, it was an abandoned relic, something once so revered yet not even worthy of proper care and attention anymore. Many lives had been lived here; the house probably had its fair share of love stories and family triumphs to tell. But all that significance was just abandoned, and for what?
It wasn’t too long before Pippa’s stomach woke up and demanded satisfaction. She went to the kitchen, glad of distraction from her contemplation of the poor old house. There was some bread and margarine amongst the basics Grantham had left her, so she had toast as she watched the sun rise over the moors.
Once properly dressed in a comfortable, knitted dress, Pippa drew up a shopping list to be tackled later that day. Then, she approached the binder where she’d left it in the library.
Was it her imagination or had it grown fatter since her interview with Wolfie? She settled in one of the leather chairs, realising it must be the one that Wolfie had sat in when they met. Traces of his scent still lingered, and she chose to ignore the tingles that that realisation sent through her.
The house required a lot of attention for one so empty. The furniture needed regular polishing – but only with an organic, homemade solution that Pippa was expected to prepare herself. She was to water the flower beds front and back daily, as well as beat various curtains, carpets and rugs regularly. There were rat traps to check, windows to wash, floors to vacuum, all in addition to general daily cleaning. Pippa exhaled deeply; she really had underestimated the level of responsibility this role demanded. But Pippa knew she could manage it; after all, she’d run an entire farm, hadn’t she? Time passed quickly as she studied the instruction book, working out how best to organise the tasks in a way that was practical. It was oddly soothing, using her skills to create the most efficient of systems, and for a moment, everything else fell away. All the sadness, the heartache, the pain… Work truly was a balm.
When Pippa finally lifted her head from her task, her neck was stiff and her back ached. Warm shafts of sun pierced through the library window and so, with a fortifying mug of tea, she strolled outside. The morning mists had rolled back, and the sun shone from an azure sky. Despite the sunshine and the chorus of birds welcoming the new day, the grounds still made for a depressing sight. The many rolling acres of emerald lawns were no more, with what looked like merely three or four acres remaining. The grass was neatly mown but the once resplendent shrubbery and flowerbeds were long gone, replaced by mournfully empty patches of soil. As Pippa followed what used to be – from memory – a staggeringly beautiful rose bush, now a sad, bloomless shrub, something at the rear of the garden caught her eye – a tall hedge, with some kind of vine criss-crossing it. Pippa walked over to inspect it further. There was a gap, she could see that now, and the hedge stretched several metres either side of it.
“The maze!” Pippa laughed in delight. Although Grantham had done a good job of keeping the lawn to an, albeit spartan level of neatness, maintaining the maze had clearly defeated him. The path leading into the maze was overgrown, with the flowering vines crawling all over it. She took a few steps in, trying to compare it with what she remembered from the day she met Wolfie. It smelled different; dank and abandoned. Yet there was something vital underneath that scent, a sense of promise. Rampant weeds choked the life out of the maze hedges, with many thriving in the dappled shade. Foxgloves in varying jewel tones dotted the path around her as well as patches of a small, sweet purple flower and varying types of ferns cluttering the once neatly delineated pathway that Pippa had walked down all those years ago. Despite the neglect, it was strangely peaceful inside the little maze. The outside world had fallen away; Pippa couldn’t even hear birdsong from where she stood. With every step she crushed greenery, releasing a verdant scent.
Her heart ached at the sadness of it. Even in its current state of disrepair, this maze was a real little sanctuary, and she felt a surge of anger towards Wolfie Squires for letting such a haven descend to this level. His dismissive attitude, his continuing absence … why couldn’t he respect the gift that he had? Why did some people choose to run away from things that could bring great joy?
“The grass isn’t always greener!” Pippa cried out, realising only seconds later that she had actually spoken out loud. Tears pricked. The maze answered her anguish with a crushing silence as if shocked by the presence of a loud, emotional woman when it had been forgotten for so long. She allowed herself a few indulgent sobs. How could she not? How bad did things have to be for a perfectly healthy, otherwise normal woman to identify emotionally with a maze, of all things?
Pippa’s stomach grumbled, reminding her that a breakfast of toast wasn’t sufficient for a broken heart, and that she needed supplies. Swiping at her tears, she turned on her heel and headed back into the house.
A little later, Pippa strode out of the SPAR shop, satisfied by her purchases, even if she’d been waylaid by about five well-meaning customers enquiring after her welfare. She waved farewell to Mrs Mayhew behind the till, who was mouthingHave a good dayso frantically that Pippa worried the woman’s dentures would slip out. As Pippa walked along to the green, it occurred to her that she needed shampoo, given that she couldn’t steal Frankie’s anymore and she’d forgotten to get some at the supermarket. The chemist was yards away, so she scurried in.
And ran smack into Ted Goodman. He was being escorted by Julie, Alex’s sister-in-law. A busy woman with rampant curls and curious eyes magnified by over-sized glasses, she blinked down at Pippa with awkward surprise.
“Pip!” Julie said, strangled. “Nice to … er, how are you?”
Pippa cleared her throat. “I’m well thanks, Julie.” The lie was surprisingly easy to tell, given that she’d been weeping in a maze by herself just over an hour ago. “You?”
“Oh.” Julie’s lips flattened minutely but then she gestured down at Ted. “All good. We just popped out for a walk and to pick up Ted’s medication.”
“Hi, Ted.” Pippa turned her eyes to the man who at one point she’d considered a surrogate father. He’d once echoed the same sentiment after a few too many sherries one New Year. Funny how that seemed to have fallen by the wayside now Alex was gone.
“Pip,” Ted harrumphed at her.
“How have you been?” she said stiffly.
“Fine,” he said, balefully. “Luckily, Finn and Julie took me in.They’retaking care of me.” The barb in his tone was unmistakable, but Pippa wasn’t going to rise to it. Ted was an old man in pain, no matter how churlish he might behave.
“I’m glad you’ve settled in,” she said calmly.
“Aye, no thanks to you,” he snarled.
Pippa was dumbstruck. It seemed like Ted was insinuating that she was the one who had abandoned him. Cheeks burning, she tried to reply calmly: “Ted, I’m sure it must have been a shock to have to leave your home but Alex—”
“Pff.” Ted flapped a wobbly hand. “I haven’t heard a peep from you since the split.”
Nor I you,Pippa thought. Ted might be old, but he had her phone number. Knew how to send an email even. But he was right, she could have reached out. “I’m sorry,” she croaked. “I should have at least—”
“I’m a sickly man, in case you hadn’t noticed,” Ted went on as if she hadn’t said anything. “To lose you both like that hurt me right bad, it did.”
