‘I have a delivery for Jemma,’ I told her. ‘But I can’t come in to drop it off because I’ve got a dog with me.’

  The woman quickly stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

  ‘Hello, Bran,’ she said, giving him a fuss, which he willingly soaked up. ‘You must be Paige,’ she then said to me.

  ‘I am,’ I confirmed. Familiar with how quickly word spread in a small town, I didn’t bother asking how she knew. ‘And I have this envelope from Hayley to pass on.’

  ‘Her designs at last!’ said the woman, sounding delighted. ‘Jemma’s not here, but you’ll find Lizzie in the gallery next door. You can leave them with her.’

  I looked down at Bran.

  ‘No one will mind if you take him in there,’ she smiled. ‘We all know who he is and what wonderful manners he’s got.’

  I thanked her and headed to the gallery. I peered through the window before going in and hoped she was right about Bran because it looked as though a class of some sort was set up at the back. I wondered if it was one of Lizzie’s crafting sessions.

  ‘Come on then,’ I said to Bran, who had chosen that moment to flop down on the pavement.

  He hauled himself up, looking slightly damp underneath, and we ventured inside. The front half of the gallery was full of shelves packed with beautiful wooden turned bowls, hand knitted scarves and more than a sprinkling of products showcasing Hayley’s cheeky feathered flock. The walls were covered in different size canvases, many of them featuring the striking local landscape and wildlife.

  I slowly turned my attention from the gallery walls to the class and realized it wasn’t a crafting session after all. Some easels had been set up and standing beside them were a group of women, and one man, all wearing the most rapt expressions.

  Heads tilted to one side, they were nodding and looking serious and I got the impression that eyelashes were actually being batted in the direction of the person addressing them. There was even a yearning lower lip bite going on and I was consequently intrigued to see the face of the person who was the cause of so much intent interest.

  I was just about to clear my throat in the hope that the person facing the group would turn around, when Bran chose that moment to give an almighty shake.

  ‘Oh, Bran,’ I loudly admonished.

  He had made me jump and I realized I had been as spellbound by the rear view of the man as everyone else was with the front.

  ‘You are a daft dog,’ I tutted.

  Fortunately, he hadn’t got properly wet from his brief encounter with the damp pavement, so there was no harm done, but that didn’t seem to be the opinion of the man who had finally turned and was now scowling in my direction.

  His stubbled jaw was set hard, and when he pushed his dark hair away from his forehead, his eyes appeared almost black and carried an unsettling hint of menace. Mr Darcy sprang to mind and I felt myself shrink under his disapproving gaze.

  ‘Sorry,’ I stammered, frustrated by the shake in my voice. ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m looking for Jemma.’

  He didn’t say anything.

  ‘I mean Lizzie.’ I blushed, holding out Hayley’s envelope as if that would explain everything. ‘I was told she was here.’

  The man took a step towards me and my reaction was to take one back. Bran, sensing my discomfiture, shifted so he was standing almost in front of me.

  ‘You can’t bring a wet dog in here,’ were the man’s first furious sounding words.

  ‘He’s not wet.’ I recovered, standing a little straighter and channelling my inner Elizabeth Bennet in Bran’s defence. ‘He’s barely damp.’

  ‘Well, whatever,’ the man gruffly responded. ‘You can leave that with me,’ he then haughtily said, reaching out for the envelope.

  ‘No,’ I said, holding it close again. ‘I’d rather not.’

  I had no idea who he was so I was hardly going to hand over Hayley’s designs to him, was I? He looked rather taken aback by my refusal and I dared him to challenge it, but then Lizzie appeared and the disconcerting stand-off was quickly defused.

  ‘Paige,’ she said, striding up. ‘It is Paige, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’ I nodded.

  ‘Archie called a few minutes ago and left a message to say you’d be dropping by.’ She beamed.

  Without a word, the man turned and walked back to the group who had been interestedly watching on. What a disagreeable person.

  ‘I’m sorry to have interrupted,’ I said, loud enough for him to hear.

  ‘Don’t mind Brodie,’ Lizzie whispered.

  ‘Oh, I won’t,’ I replied and had the pleasure of seeing his back stiffen. ‘These are for you, Lizzie,’ I said, holding out the envelope again. ‘And Jemma.’

  ‘Do you know what Hayley has come up with?’ Lizzie asked, running her fingers along the sealed edge of the envelope.

  ‘Sadly not,’ I told her. ‘Although I was tempted to take a peek when I drove in, but then thought I should wait along with everyone else until the official unveiling.’

  ‘I admire your ability to resist!’ Lizzie laughed. ‘But I’m sure your resolve will be richly rewarded.’

  ‘Given what I’ve seen from previous years,’ I smiled, looking at the shelves again, ‘I’m sure you’re right. Now,’ I added, ‘I suppose I’d better go in case Bran has another shake and gets in trouble again.’

  ‘Bran’s always welcome,’ Lizzie said brightly, patting his head, ‘and he’s not even wet, so no harm done.’

  ‘He’s not even damp,’ I couldn’t resist adding, wallowing in the momentary halt in Brodie’s speech to the group.

  I left the gallery with a spring in my step and when I looked back was surprisingly gratified to discover the grumpy sod was watching me walk away.

  ‘Right then, Bran,’ I said, resisting the urge to wave. ‘Let’s find something tasty to eat, shall we?’

  The market stalls were full of edible treats, so Bran and I wove our way between them tasting samples and picking up a little makeshift picnic as we went, which I thought we could park up and enjoy before we returned to the hall. I’d spotted a concrete pad in the gateway of a field on the drive into town which would be the perfect spot.

  ‘Come on then, Bran,’ I coaxingly said in the hope that he’d jump back in the Land Rover unaided after I’d given him a drink.

  He willingly hopped in and hunkered down and I turned the engine over which thankfully started on the first try. I drove slowly out of town back the way we’d come, easily shifting the gears from second to third as I had on the drive in and within a few minutes I’d parked up again and was dipping into the bag of treats.

  ‘This sausage roll,’ I told Bran as I fed him titbits over the back of the seat, ‘is from Skylark Farm which, according to the lady on the stall, isn’t all that far from here. What do you think?’

  Bran eagerly poked his head further through the gap, keen for another morsel.

  ‘My thoughts exactly,’ I agreed. ‘Absolutely delicious.’

  He wasn’t so keen on the apple chutney, also from the same farm, which I had selected to accompany the sausage rolls, but as I dipped the pastry into the pot, I thought it tasted like manna from heaven. Rounded off with a couple of iced biscuits from The Cherry Tree Café makes and bakes stall and washed down with hot chocolate which also served to warm my hands, it was a most delicious feast. My transition from meagre rations to more familiar sized meals was coming along quickly and surprisingly comfortably.

  ‘Shall we have a few more minutes before we head back?’ I suggested, twisting round to find Bran fast asleep. ‘I guess so.’ I smiled.

  I had thought about getting out and stretching my legs again with a stride around the headland, but rather than disturb Bran, I opened the windows and pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket instead.

  Two messages had landed since I’d left the hall. Most likely because Wynbridge had a better mobile signal than Wynthorpe. The first was from Mum, saying how pleased she and Dad were knowing that I was at the hall with Catherine and Angus and that they would call to see how I was settling in soon.

  The second was from Chadia’s mum hoping that now I was back in the country, I would be able to visit her. Just like with my parents, I had cited the withdrawal of corporate sponsorship and the consequential staff cuts as being responsible for my early departure from Jordan and, although I felt guilty about the deception, I knew it would be better for me in the long run to keep my explanation simple.

  It was Chadia who had set me on the path to overseas volunteering and then working for the charity I had now left. She had been manning the stand at the university recruitment fair I attended in my third year and encouraged me to consider signing up for the same programme she was then involved with. We soon became firm friends as well as colleagues working on the same projects.

  I had joined her in Tanzania teaching women’s empowerment and working with disadvantaged children, and then we had moved on together, continuing with the same programme in Nepal and Morocco. The skills we taught, which enabled the women to earn their own money, along with raising their awareness, felt basic to me in the beginning, but I soon saw for myself the transformative impact the projects had.

  I adored working with Chadia. She was one of those people who always went above and beyond and squeezed every last productive second out of each and every day. She was only a couple of years older than me, but she taught me so much and it was her idea that we should apply to join the charity working in war-torn countries and the resultant camps with a focus on looking after the women and children who found themselves there.

  Our applications were successful and we continued to be the perfect pairing. The work was different to what we’d started out doing, with more emphasis on basic needs, but it was essential, often gruelling and I believe that Chadia came to rely on me as much as I relied on her. However, our partnership came to an abrupt and heart-breaking end.

  A brief visit to her family one summer had snatched her from the world, courtesy of a driver who ploughed into her on a pedestrian crossing. I had been devastated by her loss. Chadia’s mum had given me the locket with the precious photograph inside and it was the only thing that had been close to my heart since I had become the lone wolf working alongside, as opposed to with, the rest of the charity team.

  I had believed that working alone was safest after my friend’s untimely death, but given my recent mistake, I had been wrong about that. I blinked away the rush of tears and reminded myself of the perspective I had told myself I needed to gain. My error in Jordan hadn’t ended as badly as it might and I needed to take comfort in that rather than constantly imagining the worst-case scenario.

  I replied to the message and then a sudden movement on the other side of the field caught my attention. Three Chinese water deer leapt effortlessly across the dyke which separated the field from its neighbour and then disappeared into a distant copse. There had been a painting of a group of deer standing in a frost covered landscape back in the gallery. I wondered who was responsible for creating it. I doubted art teacher Mr Darcy would have such lightness of touch when he filled a canvas.

  I tried to fix on something else, but the image of his face, and arresting jean-clad rear view, filled my head. It was a long time since I’d noticed a man in any detail and I hoped my libido wasn’t about to leap into life. I had told Molly the last thing I needed was a distraction in the form of the opposite sex and a challenging and grumpy one would be even more unwelcome.

  My body gave an involuntary shiver and I realized how cold I’d got sitting in one position, thinking over the details of mine and Brodie’s unsatisfactory encounter.

  ‘I suppose we’d better be getting back,’ I said to Bran who was still soundly snoring.

  I turned the key in the ignition but instead of the comforting roar of the engine there was a clicking sound. I turned the key back, counted to three and tried again, but the engine was as dead as a dodo.

  ‘Damn,’ I groaned, resting my head on the steering wheel, after checking that I hadn’t left the lights on. ‘Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.’

  I located the bonnet lever and hopped out, taking the jump leads with me. Not that they’d do any good when there was no other vehicle to connect them to. I’d have to ring the hall and ask if the vehicle had some sort of roadside assistance cover.

  ‘You need to stay in there,’ I said to Bran, who had woken and was whining to join me. ‘I’ll be with you again in a minute.’

  I had just keyed in the code to unlock my phone when I spotted a large vehicle further along the road heading in my direction and wondered whether I dare flag it down. It was almost level with me when I decided I didn’t, but it pulled off the road and on to the concrete pad anyway.

  ‘Are you having a bit of bother?’ asked the driver, who was a jovial looking guy about my own age and with a head full of dark curls.

  ‘What makes you think that?’ I smiled, relieved to see such a friendly face.

  ‘The open bonnet and the fact that you’re holding a set of jump leads was a bit of a giveaway.’ He grinned, his eyes crinkling attractively at the corners.

  I felt my face flush as I realized my attempt at wit had whooshed right over his head.

  ‘Is that Bran?’ he then asked, jumping out and pulling on a waxed jacket which was more battered than any I’d seen back at Wynthorpe. ‘You must be from the hall.’

  ‘I daresay you parked up and left your lights on, didn’t you?’ came another voice.

  I looked across the seat the driver had just vacated and felt my shoulders tense up as I came face to face with Brodie, who was glaring at me from the dimly lit interior.

  Glowering seemed to be his go-to look, where Bran and I were concerned at least. I couldn’t imagine the group admiring him in the gallery had been on the receiving end of such hostility. Their esteem must have sprung from a very different expression and yet my pulse was still racing at the sight of this one, which was most unsettling.

  ‘No,’ I primly said. ‘I didn’t actually.’

  ‘Ignore my brother,’ said the other guy, taking the jump leads from me. ‘He’s been in a foul mood all day.’

  ‘Oh, I’m well aware of that,’ I replied sardonically, slamming his truck door shut and turning my back on it. ‘Our paths had the misfortune of crossing earlier, back in town.’

  The guy chuckled and re-opened the door so he could pop his bonnet.

  ‘I’m Jack by the way.’ He beamed.

  He couldn’t seem to stop smiling and I wondered if Brodie was so glum because his sibling had nabbed all the happy genes in the family.

  ‘I run the Brambles distillery on the outskirts of town.’

  ‘I didn’t know Wynbridge had a distillery,’ I told him. ‘But then I haven’t visited for a while. How wonderful.’

  ‘I didn’t think we’d met,’ he said, as he pulled a slightly dog-eared leaflet out of the pocket of his jacket. ‘The distillery is a relatively new addition to the area. You should come along,’ he added, handing me the crumpled paper. ‘I could give you a tour if you like.’

  ‘That would be great,’ I said, finding it impossible not to smile back.

  I didn’t think he was flirting with me. He was just genuinely happy. Unlike his brother.

  ‘Hurry up, Jack!’ Brodie, who was still warmly cocooned in the cosy confines of the cab, shouted. ‘I was already late when you picked me up in town.’

  Jack let out a long breath and raised his eyes skywards.

  ‘Something tells me you’ll be sampling your own drinks tonight,’ I laughed.

  ‘You’re not wrong.’ He joined in. ‘Now, let’s get you up and running, shall we?’

  His powerful truck engine had almost instantly breathed life into the old Land Rover but Jack insisted we exchanged numbers and then followed me as far as the hall drive to make sure I got back safe and sound.

  I kept looking at him and Brodie in the rear-view mirror and wondered what they were saying to each other. By the time I waved Jack off, Brodie was looking even more thunderous and staring moodily out of the passenger side window and, from what I could make out, Jack’s smile was somewhat strained.

  ‘Well,’ I said to Bran, who had forgiven me for abandoning him and plonked his head heavily on my shoulder as we bounced back up the drive. ‘That was more of an adventure than we were expecting to have, wasn’t it?’

  I wasn’t even out of my jacket before Molly sought me out.

  ‘I hear you’ve met the new guy in town,’ she said, with a wicked grin as she plucked playfully at my jumper sleeve.

  Yet again, the small-town grapevine had been hard at work.

  ‘Who?’ I frowned, feigning ignorance.

  I knew she could only be talking about one person, but had every intention of playing it cool.

  ‘Brodie, of course.’

  ‘Oh, him,’ I said lightly, stepping neatly out of her reach. ‘Yes, I have.’

  ‘And what did you think?’ she quizzed.

  ‘Miserable,’ I announced, turning my attention to the leaflet. ‘But his brother Jack, who owns Brambles Distillery, is an absolute sweetheart.’

  The look of surprise on her face was priceless.

  Chapter 7

  My dreams that night were of a different sort, but nonetheless disconcerting. Given that Jack had such a pleasing expression and a whole host of kind words – and deeds – in his arsenal, I felt cheated that it was his gloomy brother who filled my head throughout the longest watches of the night.

  Unable to stifle yawns from breakfast to bedtime the following day, Archie said he wouldn’t burden me with the instructions on how to carry out the housework until I’d properly got the measure of the volunteering.

  ‘Sundays should be a time to rest,’ he said, showing unexpected understanding. ‘And we could all do with one day a week to laze about, couldn’t we?’

  I wondered if his words had been prompted by something Molly had said, but her out-of-this-world expression gave nothing away. However it came about, I was happy to while away the day napping in front of the fire and indulging in Dorothy’s legendary Sunday roast.

 

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