Page 59 of The Twilight Garden

A stunned silence hung heavy in the air while Willow slumped forward, covering her face with her hands.

‘I’m so sorry,’ whispered Gemma. ‘I didn’t mean…’

There was a raucous scraping noise as Rowan pushed back his chair from the table, hurrying to comfort his wife, the air bristling with the tension of unspoken words. Words that Rowan was far too nice to ever say. Because the fact was that he had told Gemma how reluctant they had been to become a part of the local community. Not just because of the comments that had been made when they arrived, but because it was their natural inclination to stay a self-contained unit. And Gemma had changed all that. Forced their hand. None of this would have happened if she hadn’t got Ashley involved, bringing her to the farm against Rowan and Willow’s better nature, whatever they said. They should never have listened to her.

‘I think I should go,’ she said. ‘Let you get back to how things were before.’

‘No!’ Despite her tears, Willow’s voice was shocked. ‘Gemma, you’re not to go, none of this is your fault. Rowan, tell her. She’s not to go. Gemma is one of the best things to have happened here. Without her help we’d have been sunk.’

‘You’re sunk now,’ said Gemma. ‘And it is my fault.’

Willow stared at her husband, her cheeks wet with tears, and as Rowan opened his mouth to speak, time slowed down until it was barely moving, one second crawling into the next as he closed it again without saying a word.

Gemma got to her feet, eyes welling. ‘He’s right. It is my fault…’ She gave Willow a sad smile. There was a pain around her heart, as if it might break in two. ‘I’m truly sorry.’ She crept from the room, eyes so full of tears she could scarcely see where she was going.

The kitchen was silent as she walked back through it, laying her key on the table and thanking Rowan and Willow for everything. Even Leo was silent, although he accompanied her to the door, a gentle hand on her back, and the saddest of smiles on his face. He followed her out, stood on the threshold and opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head.

‘It’s best this way,’ she said, and began to walk away.

He watched her until she was out of sight. And she knew this because that’s exactly what Leo would do.

The tears flowed again as she picked her way through the churned mud on the track back to her car, slipping and sliding, her balance hampered by the one small case and bag she carried. She remembered vividly the day she had arrived, when Willow had hoisted her suitcase with ease, carrying it without complaint back to the house. It felt like a lifetime ago. She had brought so few things with her to the farm because she hadn’t thought she’d be staying. Even so, she hadn’t needed half of them, and they had lain in her drawers, forgotten. Her hair straighteners, her make-up bag full of lipsticks and blusher, beauty balms… none of which had any place on the farm; her life simply hadn’t required them. It had been a lifetime ago since she had arrived at Thistledown, a different life. And now she was going back to it.

She loaded her bags into the back of the car and dashed a hand across her cheeks to swipe away the tears which didn’t seem as if they would ever stop. Her boots were now even more caked in mud, and she paused to change them, tossing them into the footwell and pulling out a pair of shoes from her suitcase that she hadn’t worn in months. She took off her coat and laid it on the back seat, and then rooted in the glove box to find her sunglasses which she always wore on long journeys. But after she had done all these things, and sat for a moment or two behind the wheel staring at the road ahead, she could put off her departure no longer. There was no point calling Cat; she wouldn’t be available, so for now she would just drive and figure out the rest on the journey.

The traffic was light and the drive easy but, even so, Gemma was no further forward in her thinking by the time she arrived. Her brain had solidified, her thoughts stuck precisely where she had left them, playing on an endless loop. She hadn’t even realised where she’d been headed until she pulled into the car park of Mayfield Dawson and came to a halt. She could see Cat’s car, parked where it always was, and she inhaled a deep breath. This was where reality kicked in.

She pulled out her phone, noting the five full bars of signal. It was just after one o’clock. How could her life have changed so much in such a short space of time? This morning she had been on a farm, surrounded by trees with greenery everywhere she looked. And now she was sitting among buildings, surrounded by other buildings, in a business park, which was mostly grey. She was miles away from the life she’d had when she got out of bed – geographically and metaphorically.

She fired off a quick message.

Hi Cat, I know you said to call you this afternoon, but not sure when you’ll be free. How about you call me when you can? Xxx

And then she sat back and waited. There was little else she could do.

Hunger was making her stomach growl, and she realised how much she had come to enjoy a bowl of Willow’s soup for lunch. They didn’t have it every day, but there always seemed to be a pot of something warm and nourishing on the go, and helping herself had been part of the day’s routine. She swallowed, staring out of the car’s side window towards the building on her right, where there was a place to get coffees and cakes. She thought of the cinnamon bun she’d eaten earlier, and although she’d gone to Betty’s plenty of times when she’d worked at Mayfield Dawson, the thought of a pre-packaged, overpriced and lacklustre ‘treat’ didn’t fill her with joy. Why was everything a reminder of what she’d lost?

Her phone trilled with an incoming call, startling her.

‘Hi Gemma, what excellent timing – I’ve just come out of my meeting and I’m headed out to grab a bite to eat. Are you okay to talk? I wasn’t sure if you’d have signal.’

‘No, it’s fine where I am.’

‘Blimey, I haven’t made you trudge to the top of a hill, have I?’

Gemma smiled. It was good to hear Cat’s voice again. ‘No. I’m sitting in the car park outside Mayfield Dawson.’

‘What?’ There was a series of scuffling noises. ‘Hang on…’

And when Cat didn’t speak, Gemma realised what had probably happened. She looked up towards the building, and sure enough, at a window high up on the left-hand side, a figure was waving at her.

‘Have you got a new office?’ she asked, waving back. ‘That’s not where you used to be.’

‘New office, new job. A lot has happened while you’ve been away, girlfriend.’ There was a pause. ‘What am I doing? Stay where you are, I’m coming down.’ And then the line went dead.

About two minutes later the car door on the passenger side was yanked open and Cat slid in next to her, panting slightly. She must have run the whole way.

She turned, clocking the contents of the back seat before swivelling to face her. ‘Gem…? What’s happened?’