Page 20 of The Twilight Garden

Gemma frowned. ‘No. It wasn’t an acrimonious break-up as such, but we… well, there wasn’t much reason to keep in touch. I haven’t seen him for…’ She tallied the passage of time in her head. ‘Nearly eighteen years.’ The figure surprised her. How had so much of her life passed by?

Willow placed the bowl of soup and a spoon in front of her. ‘Oh right, that is a long time.’ She raised her eyebrows slightly. ‘I just wondered, that’s all,’ she added, tucking her hair behind her ears with a smile.

‘We got married too young,’ added Gemma. ‘I think that was the problem. Mainly, anyway.’ She shrugged. ‘Something happened and he let me down. Turned out it was something we couldn’t get past, and that was that. But it’s all water under the bridge now, so both of us being here really won’t be a problem.’

‘Oh, I wasn’t checking up,’ said Willow, waving an airy hand. ‘Just easier if I know your recent histories aren’t shared ones. Don’t want to put my foot in it and say something I shouldn’t.’

Gemma narrowed her eyes, following Willow’s movements as she fetched bread from a board on the side. Her words made sense, but she had the feeling that wasn’t why Willow was being cautious.

‘What was this idea then?’ she asked, taking a mouthful of soup. Perhaps a change of subject would be best.

Willow’s face grew animated. ‘Oh yes… It might be nothing. In fact, it probably is nothing, but⁠—’

‘This is lovely, by the way…’ said Gemma, spooning in more soup.

‘Thank you. Parsnip and apple,’ supplied Willow, smiling. ‘So the thing is… Leo was having a read through the local history books while you were asleep – I’ve had them for ages and not really had time to look through them yet – but there isn’t much information about Thistledown, which is odd because we always believed it was the site of a much older, much bigger property. There are the stables, of course, but the whole layout of the area looks to me as if it was larger at one point, as if the old farmhouse was actually built within the stable yard. Plus, the avenue of trees by the kitchen garden look as if they were planted that way deliberately, and yet they don’t seem to lead anywhere. We wondered if at one point they might have flanked a rather grand driveway.’

‘Yes, I noticed those earlier. I hadn’t thought about their location but now that you mention it, I can see what you mean.’

‘It’s much clearer if you look at a map of the site.’

Gemma nodded, waiting for Willow to continue, but as the seconds ticked by she began to look more and more uncomfortable. She was about to ask what was wrong when Willow’s expression changed.

‘I’m not sure how to ask this,’ she said. ‘I mean, I was – in my head it was very simple. But now that I’ve started to explain, I realise it might seem a bit callous.’

‘Maybe you’d better just ask,’ replied Gemma, trying to arrange her facial features into something neutral.

‘Yes, you’re right. So what we wondered… what I wondered is if you’d like to do a bit of research for us? Just until your ankle feels better.’ She pulled a rueful face. ‘I don’t want you to feel you have to, or that you being laid up is a problem. I just know you feel bad about it and thought it might help.’

Now Gemma could see what Willow was getting at. She smiled. ‘I’m not offended at all. I’d much rather have something useful to do than sit about moping.’

‘Great… I’ve got to pop to the village tomorrow and, if you’re okay with it, I thought I could drop you off at the tearoom so you can use their internet to help you get started. It’s going to be next to impossible to do from here.’

Gemma thought of the message she’d sent Cat earlier. She could tell her the whole sorry story so far, and at the same time do something useful as well. Plus… it would keep her out of Leo’s way. She wasn’t sure why Willow was being so cagey asking about her and Leo’s recent past, but there was more to it than simple tact, Gemma was sure of it. And she was equally sure she didn’t want to know what.

8

There was a time when Gemma was very much younger that each and every summer holiday had included a trip to Cornwall at some point. But the wonderful place names that she remembered from her childhood – Looe, Polperro, Mousehole – were all on the coast, so the area surrounding the farm – a place which had seemingly slipped halfway down the south-eastern slope of Bodmin Moor – was completely new to her, and she was eager to see more of it. There was a wild and rugged beauty here which was so different from the picture-postcard scenes of sparkling blue sea she was more familiar with.

But the houses were as she remembered. Beautiful cottages, some whitewashed, some left as plain golden stone, and all of them strung out along both sides of a winding road, dotted with trees and interspersed with quaint-looking shops – a greengrocer, estate agent, general store, hairdresser, pub and finally the tearoom.

They were the kinds of houses she might have drawn as a child – square, with four windows, two either side of a central door and another two above with smoke rising high over the roof from squat chimneys. Front gardens, although dormant now, would be filled to bursting with flowers come summer. They were also the kind which Gemma had hoped to live in herself one day. The expensive kind.

Pulling up outside the tearoom, Willow rushed around to help Gemma from the car.

‘I messaged Vicky to let her know we were coming and to check that she wasn’t too busy, but she said it was fine and you can stay as long as you want.’ She held the door wide so that Gemma could swing her legs around to the pavement.

‘That’s up to you, of course,’ added Willow. ‘I feel like I’ve bullied you into doing this for us, but you don’t have to.’

‘No, honestly, it’s fine,’ said Gemma. ‘I’d like to message my friend anyway, and I’ve never really been a sit-around-and-do-nothing kind of person. I’ll go mad if I have to stay with my leg up all day. At least this way I’m doing something useful.’

‘Let me know when you’ve had enough and I’ll come and pick you up again. I’ll make sure I keep my phone on.’ She offered her arm so that Gemma could use it to help pull herself from the car.

With gritted teeth, she hauled herself upright, flinching as her ankle let her know how painful even this simple movement was. And then slowly, very slowly, she and Willow made their way along the pavement to the tearoom.

Vicky was waiting for them, holding the door open and clucking in sympathy. About the same age as her and Willow, she had a bundle of reddish-coloured hair escaping from a messy bun, a florid complexion and a very welcoming smile.

‘I’ve saved you a table over at the back here,’ she said. ‘It’s one of our smaller ones, but it’s out of the way and should mean that people aren’t constantly bumping into your foot. I sprained my ankle once and I know what it’s like. Doesn’t matter where you put it, someone will knock into it. Oh, and the pain…’ She smiled at Willow as if to let her know that Gemma was now in safe hands.