Return To Bluebell Hill. Rebecca Pugh
but tears still fell. They fell for the days she’d spent as a child wishing that her parents loved her. They were tears for the hopes of a sad little girl, who even the love and care of Esme couldn’t make better. They were tears for the loneliness, despite Esme being at her side almost every single day. Tears for dinners eaten with Esme rather than her parents, days in the garden with Esme, tears for the nights she’d spent forcing herself to stay awake to see her parents, tears for mornings when she had attempted to wake up earlier than usual to catch them on their way out, only to find that they’d already left for yet another day at the hospital. Tears for birthdays when it had been Esme telling her to make a wish as she blew out her birthday candles, instead of her mother and father. She wasn’t crying because of Esme’s constant presence in her childhood, but for the lack of her parents’. It was such a shame that you couldn’t turn back time.
The service seemed to slip by in just moments and before she was aware of it, people were filing out of the church, dabbing at their eyes with hankies and snivelling sadly for the loss of two such hard-working, respectable people.
***
The three of them left the church and blinked in the early afternoon sunshine as they walked. For the first time since she’d arrived in Bluebell Hill, Jessica noticed the pearly white clouds in the sky. They felt ridiculously appropriate for what the morning had held for her.
‘A beautiful service,’ Rueben commented politely as they walked down the path towards the village square. A group of people were following behind them, back to their daily lives after a bleak morning spent in the church.
Esme agreed. ‘It was, wasn’t it? A beautiful send-off. Don’t you agree, Jessica?’
Jessica glanced at both of them. She felt slightly dizzy and not at all with it. ‘Yes, it was beautiful.’ And it had been. She wondered now, as they walked back through the village square, who the people were who had brought those flowers? She could have stepped forward to have a read of the cards, say a few words herself, but hadn’t felt able to. She didn’t feel like she had a right to do that. They may have been her parents but their relationship had been non-existent. It couldn’t suddenly change because they had passed away.
‘Do you fancy joining us for lunch, Rueben?’ Esme asked once they were nearing the cottage. The air was warm and the birds were singing happily. Jessica wished she could join in with them. She wished she had something to sing about. Instead, she angled her face towards the sun and allowed the rays to dance across her skin, to somehow help her in her hour of need. The clouds had only been fleeting and now, as she looked up, the sky was once again cloud free. A smooth blue was spread out above her like an ocean.
Rueben agreed to lunch after much persuasion from Esme. The old woman hurried back to the cottage and left Jessica and Rueben trailing behind. ‘Don’t rush, Jessica,’ she called.
Rueben laughed lightly at Esme’s retreating figure before growing quiet. They walked in silence, both of them unsure of what to say to the other. Firstly, they’d just attended her parents’ funeral which of course made conversation awkward and secondly, in Rueben’s mind, she was not supposed to be in Bluebell Hill but in Cornwall. She wished she hadn’t lied to him on the train. It would have been so much easier for her now if she had just told him the truth from the beginning. There was always the chance that their paths wouldn’t have crossed but things hadn’t quite worked out that way. Things very rarely worked out the way you wanted them to, she grumbled to herself.
‘So, Cornwall, huh?’ Rueben asked eventually. ‘Did you change your mind? Decide to stop off in Bluebell Hill instead?’ His voice was playful and he was obviously attempting to lighten the tone. She was grateful but it didn’t make anything better or easier.
She stared straight ahead as she tried to think of an appropriate reply. How awkward was this? ‘It’s a messy situation,’ she said in the end, hoping he wouldn’t try to pry any further into it. ‘In this instance, a lie was prettier than the truth. I wished I’d been going to Cornwall.’ She couldn’t have just blurted out that she was going back for her parents’ funeral when they’d met on the train. It would have stilted their conversation and destroyed the tone that she’d enjoyed sharing with him as they’d chatted during the journey. She’d enjoyed talking to him without the mention of a funeral and she’d chosen to keep it that way. No one could blame her, could they? Who knew what to say when someone mentioned a funeral? She certainly didn’t so she couldn’t have expected Rueben to continue with conversation after such a dark confession.
Rueben nodded, as if he understood. ‘I see. I guess Cornwall did seem more attractive given the circumstances.’ He smiled at her and she couldn’t help but return it. He had such a nice smile. ‘I had no idea they had a daughter. Your parents, I mean.’ He raised a single eyebrow in her direction. ‘I hope that didn’t sound rude.’
‘Not rude at all and like I said, messy situation.’ She shrugged it off but the weight of the situation didn’t shift from off her shoulders. ‘How did you know them?’ She turned to him, interested to know more.
‘I worked for them, actually,’ Rueben replied. ‘I tended the gardens at Bluebell House. That’s my thing, you see. Gardening. I love it. Especially Bluebell House’s gardens.’ He nodded towards something, and Jessica turned, surprised to spy the roof of Bluebell House just visible in the distance behind the overgrown hedges. ‘I was sad to hear of their death.’ He cleared his throat as if turning away from that particular road of conversation. ‘My parents and I moved to Bluebell Hill years ago. I love it here, just as much as my folks, I think. Which is odd because most twenty-something men prefer the wild life. You know, clubbing and pubbing it. Don’t they?’ He grinned at her. ‘The woods, the peace and quiet. It’s much more appealing to me than getting drunk.’ He looked at her. ‘What about you?’
She was surprised. Most men adored that type of lifestyle. How refreshing to meet a man with a different mind-set. Glancing up, she saw that Esme’s cottage was coming into view and just in time. She could avoid answering his question. She picked up the pace as they continued towards it, acutely aware of Rueben waiting patiently for her reply. Truthfully, she didn’t really want to speak about herself. The only people who really knew about her past were Sarah and Esme. Esme had lived it right beside her. Two people was more than enough to share secrets with. Rueben had no need to know about her past in Bluebell Hill but she was thankful for his company.
‘There’s not much to say about me,’ she offered eventually. ‘I live in London, I work for a publishing company as a marketing manager. I’m just back in Bluebell Hill for a little while to sort a few things out following the death of my parents. I won’t be here long. A fleeting visit really.’
‘I’m presuming you lived with your parents before you went to London? When you were little? Or...’ He trailed off, obviously hoping she’d fill in the gaps.
‘Or,’ she replied quickly, preferring that option to the one where she’d have to explain herself. ‘It’s complicated and you’d probably get confused with all of the crazy details. Plus, after this morning, I don’t feel like talking about it. I’m sure you understand.’ She was beginning to grow hot and bothered as she felt the weight of his curious stare but she refused to make eye contact so instead, stared straight ahead.
‘Okay. That’s fine.’ He held his hands up in defence, smiling easily behind them. ‘It’s none of my business, I know. But hey, you’re lucky you have Esme. She’s great, isn’t she?’ Rueben looked towards the cottage fondly and Jessica studied the side of his face as he did so. It looked like he had a soft spot for Esme, too. It warmed her heart to know that she wasn’t the only one who was fond of the woman.
She smiled and nodded in agreement as she reached the cottage and hurried up the path, eager to get inside and away from any further questions that Rueben might have. She was constantly aware of his presence behind her though. She couldn’t quite decide whether she liked it or not. Only time would tell. She pushed open the cottage door and left it open for Rueben.
***
During a lunch of salad in the cottage garden, bowls scattered across