Page 11 of Always Be My Pumpkin

I press my fingers to my forehead and sigh. ‘Because I didn’t want to involve him in my relationship problems. And I don’t think Jamie would want him involved either. It will be easier for everyone if you help me sort things. And I’ll let Flynn know when I see him.’ I close my eyes for a beat as I picture him. ‘I doubt he’ll care anyway, it’s been rented all summer, what’s another few weeks?’

‘I suppose it would make things easier.’ Scott rubs at his neck, clearly still conflicted, but then he nods. ‘Okay, I’ll go and get you that key. And I’ll let Maeve know on Monday.’

Sarah leaps up and kisses his cheek as he adds, ‘When do you want to move in?’

‘This afternoon, please.’ I give him a grateful smile.

6

‘This place is gorgeous.’ Sarah pulls the door closed behind us and scans the open-plan room, with its sage green kitchen cabinets and circular oak table at one end, and dusky pink two-seater couch and matching fireside chair, facing a beautiful cast-iron stove at the other.

Scott did as he promised and drove to the office for the keys, while Sarah and I packed up my belongings. And now here we are, with my suitcases, and rattan basket filled with needles and yarn, about to move me in.

‘I love that.’ My eyes widen as I point to the stove, with matching cast-iron holder, piled high with logs alongside it. ‘No wonder the place feels so cosy, that would heat the whole cottage in no time.’

‘Also, because it’s tiny.’ Sarah chuckles. ‘It’s basically one room.’

‘There’s a bedroom and bathroom upstairs.’ I park my case by the newel post and peer up the timber staircase that divides the kitchen and living nook. ‘It’s plenty big for me.’

Then I spot the flatscreen on the wall above the stove. ‘And you can come over and watch Gilmore Girls when Scott’s off at football training. It’s almost time for my annual binge-fest.’

Sarah flops down on the two-seater, lays her head on the armrest, then stretches her legs over the other end. ‘Gilmore Girls?’ She laughs. ‘I think you’re confusing me with Flynn.’ She sees my face fall and her eyes soften, and I know she remembers that video from her party. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry. It must be strange seeing him again after all this time. I didn’t mean to reopen old wounds.’

I wrap my arms across my ribcage and shrug as lightly as I can. ‘It’s fine. No big deal.’ I smile to cover the heaviness settling in my chest. ‘But if you really want to make it up to me, we can start on season one next week.’

‘You’re determined to drag me to the cosy side.’ She lifts her hands in surrender. ‘Okay, you’ve got me. One season only, though.’ She pats the soft chenille throw draped over the back of the couch. ‘This is comfy. I can even stay over if we drink too much wine.’

‘I think you might have to take the bed.’ I throw her a wry smile. ‘Your legs are too long for that couch.’

It’s a generous two-seater, I’d be okay, but Sarah’s a lot taller than me.

‘I’d be fine.’ She hops up. ‘Come on, I’ll give you a hand with those cases. I want to have a nosy up there anyway. And then we can head back to ours for food and a movie. Scott said he do a full roast chicken dinner, with all the trimmings.’ She chuckles. ‘He must feel really bad.’

Three hours and two glasses of wine later, I’m back at Hazel Cottage. I made my excuses as soon as they started watching their movie. Partly because they picked out a horror, but mostly because I can’t help feeling I’ve overstayed my welcome, even though Sarah keeps insisting that I haven’t.

Because Scott is still Jamie’s best friend, and as far as he’s concerned, I’m the one who ran without waiting to hear his side of the story. And I know from Sarah that Jamie’s been piling it on thick with every phone call and every text he’s sent to Scott, even though he didn’t contact me. Not once, until last night.

I smooth the throw on the couch and take a look around downstairs before I switch off the light. I packed everything away in the wardrobe upstairs and tucked my cases under the bed. And I haven’t even made a cup of tea yet, so it all looks pristine. That won’t last long, I’m not the tidiest, but for now I’m keeping my promise to take good care of Elaine’s cottage. If anyone came to view, they wouldn’t even know I’d been here.

The bedroom is just as pretty as downstairs, with pine floorboards, voile curtains, and an enormous king-size bed. I pull down the blackout blind leaving only the soft glow from the bedside lamp. I nip to the bathroom, change into pjs, and switch off the lamp. Then I climb into bed and bury myself deep under the daisy print duvet that reminds me of a time when everything felt easier. Before my world fell apart.

My mind drifts back to those soft September evenings, before Dad died, when Flynn and I would spend hours lying on the grassy slope looking out over the lake, chatting, and threading daisy chains. Well, okay, the daisy chains were just me, but we did both spend hours talking, and laughing, and sharing our plans for the future.

Flynn wanted to study horticulture, maybe go into business with his uncle, and eventually open up a garden centre of his own, focusing on native, wildlife-friendly plants. His dad wasn’t happy. He wanted him to follow in his footsteps and pursue medicine. But his mam was adamant that when the time came to choose a course, the choice should be Flynn’s. So was his uncle, Pat. And so was Flynn.

I wanted him to make the right choice for him, but a small seed of hope began to take root in my heart. Flynn and I working side by side. Literally. Him in his dream garden centre and me, next door, in my beloved library. I hoped as we grew and nourished our shared dreams, that he might eventually fall in love with the librarian next door. Of course, that was long before Oakwood grew from a village to a town, and I realised our narrow two-storey would need a serious upgrade to become the thriving community library I dreamed about. And before Flynn left me behind for a brand-new life, and new dreams.

I try to quieten my overactive mind. I need to stop thinking about the past. About Flynn, about Jamie, about all the ways my life hasn’t turned out the way I hoped it would. I’ve still got my job, even if I’m not sure where that’s going. I’ve got a roof over my head, even if it isn’t my roof. I’ve got Sarah. And Mam, when she gets back from her travels. We’re due to have a FaceTime tomorrow, and I want to make sure she sees me smiling when we do.

There’s no point dwelling on hopeless dreams I had as a teenager. When I assumed the people I cared about would always be in my life. More fool me. First Dad left. Or was taken. I’m still not sure what to believe, but either way, I lost him. Then Flynn left, and didn’t bother to keep in touch, not really, not properly, apart from those yearly Christmas cards. That one flimsy thread holding us together all these years.

Oh feck, two glasses of wine and I’m maudlin. I need someone to give me a good talking-to. Cop on, Gracie. Flynn will be gone soon, and you need to stop wallowing and move on. Like you did the first time. Or at least, tried to. And okay, life has thrown you a few curveballs, but that’s how you learn to make better choices the next time. I hope.

I pull the duvet over my head and sink deeper into the mattress. Then I hear a loud creak. Feck, I should not have watched the start of that horror. It’s probably nothing, or just the wind, or . . . Shit! That’s not nothing!

The creaking gets closer, and it’s definitely someone or something coming up the stairs. Someone large by the sound of it, with heavy boots, and maybe an axe like that guy in the movie.

Oh shit, I’m going to die, all alone, and I never even got to tell Flynn how mad at him I am. How much he hurt me. How much he meant to me back then. And how he was all I ever really wanted, until he left and broke my heart.