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Chapter1
Ellie
‘Where would you like this, Mrs Porter?’ the giant man, with a shaved head so shiny she wondered if he polished it every morning, asked.
Ellie peered at the box. ‘Kitchen, please.’ She resisted the urge to roll her eyes because the box was clearly labelledKITCHEN.
The man followed her gaze and his cheeks coloured. ‘Sorry. Didn’t see the label there.’ He gave an embarrassed shrug and Ellie smiled.
‘It’s fine, honestly. And it’sMsnot Mrs.’
‘Course.’ He bobbed his head then plucked at hisRodney’s RemovalsT-shirt that looked like it had been tumble dried on high and was now three sizes too small for him.
As he lumbered away in the direction of the kitchen, she shifted her position against the doorframe. If she could just reach around and extract the source of her discomfort, then…
‘Everything all right, Mrs Porter?’ The man had returned from the kitchen and was frowning at her.
‘Ms… Yes. Fine.’ She gave a quick nod. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘You looked like you were wriggling, Ms Porter. Like you had an itch and you couldn’t get to it.’ He offered a goofy smile and she returned it then waved a hand, hoping he hadnotworked out what her problem was because that would be absolutely mortifying.
‘I’m fine. Just a bit… tired.’
‘We’ll be out of your hair soon,’ he said as he passed her and headed back out to the removals van.
‘Thank goodness for that,’ Ellie muttered, glancing around to check she was alone then reaching around to try to rearrange her underwear. She’d arrived at her late aunt’s cottage on Sunflower Street in the village of Wisteria Hollow the previous afternoon, and to her dismay, when she’d got up this morning she’d found that she hadn’t packed any underwear in her suitcase. All her comfy pants were in the boxes that were in the removals van and so she’d rooted around in the pockets of the suitcase in the hope that she might find something. And she had. A teeny, tiny thong that must have been in there from a holiday she’d taken years ago with her ex-husband and children. Somehow, the thong had been wedged so deeply in the pocket that she’d previously missed it and so, this morning, she’d been forced to don the thong. Now, she was wishing she’d just gone commando because the damn thing was flossing her nether regions in ways that made her eyes water. She couldn’t even recall buying it but then, back in the 90s, she’d fallen prey to some of the fashion trends, wearing low-slung combats and cropped tops like theSpice GirlsandAll Saints. It was hard to believe it now but back then, showing off the top of a thong above your trousers was fashionable. Ellie hadn’t been particularly fussy on the trend, nor that of cropped tops, feeling self-conscious when she sat down and her belly concertinaed. Touching a hand to her stomach she chuckled inwardly. There was a lot more belly to fold over these days and back then she’d had no idea how lucky she was to have the high metabolism of youth. These days her metabolism had abandoned her and she only had to look at a biscuit and she put on weight.
Just as she gained hold of the thong, another man entered the cottage holding a large clear plastic container so she released it and it sprang back into place. As the man squeezed past her then climbed the stairs, she pretended she’d been scratching her lower back. Sighing, she accepted that the thong was going to have to stay where it was for now and she’d have to endure the discomfort. Unless, that was, she was prepared to do what she’d once heard a comedian suggest and she didn’t know if she could bear to shout out, ‘Oh my goodness, my bum is incredibly itchy!’ His theory had been that if you shouted this out, people would automatically look away in embarrassment and you’d be able to have a good scratch.
‘What is my world coming to?’ Ellie asked herself as she shuffled through to the kitchen, trying to pretend that she felt just fine and not like her bottom was sliding along a tightrope.
She filled the kettle and turned it on, dropped teabags into mugs and got the milk from the fridge then opened the back door and stepped out into the garden.
Memories washed over her as she gazed at the garden, already transitioning from summer to autumn as the leaves on the trees that bordered the garden changed from green to yellow, to brown and red. The lawn was covered with fallen leaves and a robin hopped around on the bird table, singing his heart out. She could have been a child again, visiting with her aunt after a day at school, looking forward to blackberry picking followed by one of her aunt’s delicious crumbles with creamy custard. She’d spent a lot of time with her maternal aunt after moving to the village when she was twelve. Her dad had been in the army and so most of her childhood had been spent moving around but they’d lived in the village for five years and it had been the only place that had ever felt like home. Then, when she was seventeen, her dad had said they were moving again and so Ellie had been uprooted and had to leave her friends and beloved Aunt Iris behind.
As she walked further into the garden, passing the small shed to her left and the large oak tree, Ellie admired the chaotic flower beds, inspired by her aunt’s love of colour and vibrance, and the large bug hotel, one of several that were placed around the garden.
Near the end of the garden was a pond surrounded by flat stones and reeds and off to the right was the greenhouse and the raised beds where her aunt had grown an abundance of fruit and vegetables. Ellie could recall coming to this part of the garden with her aunt to select produce for their dinner. She’d enjoyed the time her aunt spent with her, the way she’d always had time for Ellie’s questions and how she’d allowed Ellie to have a sense of responsibility even when she was just a girl. Her parents had been lovely but her dad worked long hours and her mum was busy running her home and trying to recover from her latest miscarriage, of which there had been many during Ellie’s childhood. Ellie’s mum, Rose, had been sweet and kind but often looked so unwell that Ellie hadn’t liked to trouble her for anything and so, while her mum had napped through the afternoons, Ellie had spent time with Iris.
Now, Ellie rose onto her tiptoes and peered over the rear hedge at the seemingly endless fields beyond the garden. Sunflower Street was in a beautiful spot and she loved the sense of freedom that the cottage and garden offered while also having the advantage of being in a pretty village with good transport links. Over the years, Ellie had visited her aunt a few times a year and Iris had come to stay with her in Watford too, but they’d both led busy lives and so they never seemed to have enough time together. After she’d passed away six months ago, Iris had left Ellie this perfect cottage in her will. Ellie had come back for the funeral but hadn’t had a chance to visit again until now. She’d been going through her own challenges with her divorce and house sale, but now everything was sorted and her time was her own once more. Seeing as how the family home had sold, Ellie had decided to return to Wisteria Hollow and live here for while, possibly for good, because she had nowhere else to be and the thought of growing old in a delightful village where she’d been happy as a child seemed like a pretty good plan indeed.
‘Mrs Porter!’ She turned to see one of the removals team waving at her from the doorway. ‘All right if I pour the water on the tea bags?’
‘Of course!’ she replied then she made her way back to the cottage. ‘And for the umpteenth time, it’sMs!’
Soon, Rodney’s Removals would be gone and she’d be able to settle in and to work out what she was going to do with her life now that she was newly divorced and her two children had flown the proverbial nest.
It was, Ellie told herself, her time to start again.
Chapter2
Finn
‘Something smells great!’ Finn Harman said as he closed the back door to his sister’s house behind him then toed off his shoes, leaving them on the mat.
‘Hey Uncle Finn.’ His fifteen-year-old nephew, Cole, smiled at him across the kitchen. ‘I’m making chilli.’
‘Yum!’ Finn went to the sink and washed his hands then dried them before pulling out a stool at the kitchen island. ‘Anything I can help with?’
