Escape to the Cotswolds. Natalie Kleinman
drapes with cushions covered in the same material and scattered apparently randomly on dark wooden benches filling the alcoves beneath the curtains. The opposite wall was a mirror image of the first.
‘Even with the timber lining it must be really bright in here during the day.’
Phoebe and Steve had moved off and Gordon put a glass of red wine in her hand (how did he know it was her favourite?) and, with his hand on her elbow, led her across the floor to where a huge log fire was pouring out heat from the ingle. Time to remove the cardigan and show off the lacy top.
‘Yes, Kate’s got a great touch, which is just as well because Charlie doesn’t have a clue. Leaves all that sort of thing to her.’
‘If this is the result I’m not surprised.’
Traditional furniture matched the oak panelling and three-legged stools stood either side of the fire, just far enough away not to make one’s face burn. Holly, always seduced by the smell of wood smoke, breathed it in like an animal scenting its prey. Phoebe, Steve, and Gordon did a good job of looking after her and between them made sure she mingled with all the other guests – all except Adam.
Everyone else was really nice. Adam didn’t glance in Holly’s direction the whole evening. Not that she was looking at him either. She was at a party, having a wonderful time and not having to peer over her shoulder half the time to see if Harry was behaving himself. She hardly even saw Emma and Tom but Emma did, at one stage, whisper in her ear: ‘I see you don’t want us now you’ve got new friends. Don’t forget. We’re walking you home. Unless, that is, you get a better offer.’
‘Ratbag!’ Holly said affectionately as she moved on. ‘I’ll talk to you later.’
She didn’t get a better offer. At least, not one she was prepared to accept on such short acquaintance and, though Gordon seemed very keen and offered to walk her home ‘because the village is obviously so much more dangerous than London’, she declined after a short internal struggle.
‘I appreciate your concern,’ she said with a smile, ‘but I think Emma and Tom might be offended if I didn’t think them sufficient escort to their own home.’
She’d felt an immediate attraction to this large man and had sensed a corresponding spark in Gordon, though perhaps spark was the wrong word. More like a gleam in the eye. Definitely like a gleam in the eye. But she didn’t want to be alone with him so soon after their first meeting. She hadn’t been single for long and was enjoying the feeling of freedom it gave her. At least, that’s what she told herself. In truth, though she’d left Harry behind, she wasn’t ready to move on, even on a superficial level.
As they walked home she told Emma about her confrontation with Adam that morning by the river and then at the party. Well, she told Emma and Tom but as he was somewhat the worse for wear he didn’t pay very much attention. Emma was indignant on Holly’s behalf but quite surprised as well.
‘But he’s such a sweetheart! Wouldn’t say boo to a goose. Well, of course he wouldn’t. Likes animals. Looks after them. Wouldn’t scare the shit out of them, would he?’
‘Well he certainly scared the shit out of me.’
‘I know he takes his work seriously and he’s very dedicated, but I’ve never heard of him giving anyone a bollocking before, though I do know he can be quite short. I think it’s because he’s shy.’
‘Shy! He certainly wasn’t shy this morning. Honestly, Emma, I feel awful. You don’t really think it was my fault that he couldn’t save Buttercup, do you?’
‘Course not. It’s just that Adam’s such a perfectionist, and anyway he was rather fond of Buttercup. How could you not be fond of a cow called Buttercup? He was probably just trying to lay the blame at someone else’s door because of what he might otherwise have to regard as his own shortcomings. Can’t bear to lose a patient.’
‘Yeah, that’s what Steve said. I wonder if he’s going to hold it against me for ever. I’m damned if I can see why I should be the scapegoat!’
‘Or even the scapecow,’ Emma retorted, clearly rather pleased with her little joke.
Christmas was approaching hard it seemed on the heels of the party and Emma and Tom were going to stay with parents over the holidays. They’d invited Holly to go with them but it didn’t seem fair to take advantage when it was a time for families to be together. She knew both sets of parents, Emma’s particularly well, and this was going to be her first Christmas without Harry. He’d been her bolster since she’d lost her own mum and dad. Who was going to bolster her now?
To say she was apprehensive was more than an understatement but this was the new Holly. Independent-Girl was now her middle name which, she realised, taking her initials made her HIGH. What could she do to make sure she stayed that way? It was time to go to Scotland!
It wasn’t quite as random a decision as it sounded. She decided to take the opportunity to visit her uncle. Uncle Mac – no Scottish blood in her family but that had been his nickname ever since he’d moved up north when Holly was a child – had invited her several times since her mum and dad died and now seemed like a good time to accept. She hardly knew him. The only time she’d seen him in recent years was at her parents’ funeral after the accident she found it so difficult even to think about.
She was having serious second thoughts as the train carried her north. Well, she decided, short of jumping ship, or in this case train, I guess I’ve got to go through with it now. Not only were Holly’s fears unfounded, but Uncle Mac was so much like her mother only bigger, she felt an immediate sense of belonging as well.
All three of her cousins were there with their respective other halves and offspring and dinner on Christmas Day was a riotous affair. It was Hogmanay though that Holly was particularly looking forward to. She eventually came away strongly of the opinion that anyone who’s never spent New Year Scottish style ought at least to give it a try. Only once though, unless they have a very strong head.
Like many people, Holly had always used the television to check the exact time to pop open the champagne. She’d seen the spectacle and heard the bagpipes and she thought she knew how they celebrated north of the border. Television, she was forced to conclude, was nothing like the real thing. Nothing!
Once she’d regained her ability to focus and could walk in a straight line she went back to Cuffingham to stay with Emma and Tom again, promising to stay in touch with her family in Scotland. Her father hadn’t had any brothers or sisters and she realised, she’d never thought about it before, that these were her only relatives in the whole world. They’d looked after her and loved her. Tears had been shed and she’d felt a wee bit empty on the way home.
Tom was at work, Emma and the boys had gone back to school, and she was quite lonely during the day. This was due in part to the fact that she hadn’t had a single moment on her own during her trip to Scotland except when she went to bed, and the days had been so full that her nights were peaceful and dream free. It’s possible alcohol might have been a contributory factor too.
It was very quiet back in Cuffingham. Once Emma and the boys came home everything was fine. There was no way anyone could feel lonely in that household, but she wasn’t in her own home yet and the days seemed to stretch interminably.
She spent some time thinking about Harry. The exchange of letters with her solicitor didn’t help. Everything was going through as planned and, while she didn’t for one moment think she’d made a mistake – painful experience had taught her otherwise – they had spent several years of her adult life together and she couldn’t dismiss them as if they’d never happened. Nor would she have wanted to. Some of it had been good … very good. Especially in those first few years before he’d begun to stray. And later, when she thought he’d stopped straying. Later still, when she’d hoped he had.
***
Holly