Page 60 of Escape to the Country

‘Here,’ said Tom, lobbing a tennis ball across the lawn for Dylan to chase. ‘That should dry him out.’

He glanced over at Eleanor who was wringing out her wet top. He noted that it was expensive-looking material, probably designer. However, he had a feeling that the real Eleanor had been the one he had seen at The Forge.

He could understand why she was quite defensive about the messy house. Perhaps that was why she always liked to look so smart. Maybe she was trying to be the complete opposite of her mum. She had seemed fake and unreal when he had first met her and yet he was certain there was real pain there.

‘I was going to stretch my legs and take a short walk around the grounds,’ he said. ‘Hopefully Dylan will dry out at the same time. Want to join us?’

She looked pleased. ‘Of course. Maybe I’ll dry out too.’

They both watched the dog rush ahead of them across the overgrown back lawn, trying to chase the butterflies which were fluttering over the weeds that were flowering everywhere.

‘I checked with the vets,’ she told him as they walked. ‘Nobody’s claimed him yet.’

Tom felt secretly glad. He had never had a pet growing up. He had had enough trouble trying to feed himself, let alone anyone else. But Dylan came with no pressure. He had spent the last part of the night curled up on a huge mound of old duvets that Annie had produced. No barking, no whining. Just happy to be there with him. Tom wasn’t sure how many people had ever felt like that about him personally.

Dylan came bounding up to them, covered in grass and flower seeds.

‘I don’t believe it. Eleanor’s just taken an extra splashing to get you clean,’ he told the dog before turning to smile at her.

They locked eyes for a moment before Tom closed his eyes and held his face up to the sun. The warmth was flooding his body, helping the aches and pains fade somewhat. At least he was sleeping well. In fact, even though he hadn’t taken any painkillers for a couple of days, he was sleeping more soundly than he could remember. It must have been all the country air.

They followed Dylan towards the west side of the grounds. Tom glanced over at the recording studio and then quickly turned away. He’d pretended to spend the previous afternoon there for Sam’s sake, but nothing was happening. The words were still far out of reach. But at least he had finally come clean with Sam. Maybe together they could face his writer’s block.

They continued walking in silence towards the side of the house and onwards so that they were facing the front lawn. Rose and Arthur were getting into the car with Annie. They all waved before they headed off down the driveway.

After his minor meltdown the previous evening, Tom had to admit that he was starting to enjoy being around the family. He liked watching them interact. The love, warmth and humour they shared was in stark contrast to the scattered pieces of his own family. Not that he counted any of them as family.

Apart from his beloved gran, of course. Nothing had been the same since she had passed away during the winter. That was when the writing block had begun, because he felt as if he had nobody else to write for. Nobody to impress. Nobody to listen who knew the real him. He still couldn’t shift the feeling of loneliness that surrounded him all the time.

Eleanor had found a stick and had thrown it across the front lawn for Dylan to retrieve. However, he picked it up and rushed off towards the willow tree.

‘You’re supposed to retrieve it, you fool,’ said Eleanor, chasing after the dog.

He watched her rush through the knee-length grass, anxious that Dylan shouldn’t get into any more trouble. It gave him a brief moment to enjoy her lithe figure, especially as he himself wasn’t up to running at the moment. She was soon at the boughs of the great willow tree and disappeared through the leaves.

However, she was gone for such a long time that Tom started to worry and made his cautious way through the tangle of grass. He couldn’t wait until his foot was fully mended and he felt fit and healthy once more.

Once he had reached the tree, he pulled the curtain of greenery to one side and found Eleanor having a tug of war on the ground with Dylan. Her jeans were now grass-stained and wet. Her top was crumpled and splattered with mud.

Eleanor looked up and blushed when she found him watching her. ‘Sorry,’ she said, with a rueful smile. ‘I was trying to get back to you but Dylan here had other ideas.’

‘No worries,’ he replied.

In fact, he was enjoying watching her play with the dog. Her dark hair was flying around her face and she looked relaxed for the first time since he had met her. As if this was the true Eleanor.

Suddenly, a line of a song came to him from nowhere. ‘Suddenly I see the real you,’ it whispered into his head. ‘As if the stars have come out at night.’

He continued to watch her play with the dog, her green eyes flashing as she laughed and tried to wrestle the stick from the dog.

And he realised he was definitely not in a hurry to leave Willow Tree Hall any more.