Читать книгу The Guestbook at Willow Cottage - Holly Martin - Страница 11

18th - 21st March

Hetty O’Donahue.

Tuesday:

Hetty, I’m so looking forward to seeing you again. I know you won’t mind but I’ll be popping in and out during your stay to see to the garden, it’s got a bit tangled of late.

Annie x

My lovely Annie, the garden looks great but yes of course you can come in and tend to it. The house looks spectacular. I loved it before, but now it’s amazing. I’m so glad to be back.

Hetty x

I’m so glad to have you back. The money to do up the place came from Nick. He was apparently insured up to the hilt. It seemed a fitting tribute to him to use the money to do up Willow Cottage, what started as an on-going project for us five years ago and make it into the place we always dreamed it would be.

I have also used some of the money to renovate The Painted Plate, my little pottery painting studio. It has sat closed ever since his death as I couldn’t face working with the public anymore. It seemed weird that people would come in, happy, cheery, life continuing as normal when my life had stopped. I couldn’t bear it. But I’m in a really good place now and the grand re-opening is in a few weeks. We’re just doing Sundays and Tuesdays to start with. I really need to be around to greet guests when they arrive in the peak season on Saturdays. Chloe Sayles is going to be trained up as my Saturday girl so she can run the place for me on those days in the summer.

You’re looking good. I’m so happy you are on the mend. Would Oliver have anything to do with your beautiful smile being back on your face?

Olly was a great help after Nick died. It’s safe to say I wouldn’t have got through those first few months without him. The whole of Nick’s family were so supportive, especially Sophia and Olly. He stayed with me for nearly seven months, helping me get through each day one step at a time, he sorted out the insurance, bills, everything. We drew very close but now we are just friends.

You three used to be as thick as thieves growing up. Mary Gillespie and I always used to joke that you had two boyfriends and would probably end up marrying them both.

I loved them both, still do. Though I think what I have with Olly is a brother/sister kind of love. Hell, you’ve seen him in the magazines, on the arm of a different woman every week, turns up to all these glamorous parties and premieres. He’s hardly going to give up all of that for me.

Why does he have to give it up? He’s a writer. He can write anywhere and it seems, reading some of the other messages, he gets his best ideas around you. The parties and glitzy lifestyle are only a small part of his life. At the end of the day he still wants a place to call home.

You’re talking like this is an option. Sometimes he can hardly bear to look at me.

Well after the accident he probably felt guilty, he was driving after all. He probably thinks he could have done something to prevent it.

It wasn’t his fault, he knows that. I don’t blame him.

Yes, but he’s alive, Nick’s not. He’s bound to feel guilty about that regardless of where the blame lies.

You should go and see Butterworth Farm whilst you’re here, William would love to see you.

Nice change of subject there. Ok, I won’t say any more about it. For now. And are you still trying to get me and William together? Unless I had black and white spots and went moo, William wouldn’t give me a second glance. He loves them cows.

He does, but he likes you too. There were five calves yesterday, there may be more today, little new-born babies, surely you can’t resist.

I may pop over.

If you do, pop in and take some muffins and eggs with you. I also have some Shepherd’s Pie I made for him; they’d be plenty left over for you tonight if you didn’t want to cook.

I saw the cows, the little ones were very cute. William said ten words to me the whole time I was there.

Ten, really?

Yep I counted them.

Oh dear.

Wednesday:

I found an engagement ring on the beach this morning, beautiful little thing, a diamond the shape of a teardrop and two clusters of tiny sapphires on either side. It looks antique. Makes me wonder how it got there. Was the girl lost at sea, did it belong to a sailor who lost his bride to scarlet fever and wore it as a memento of his sweetheart? I wonder how long ago it was given as a token of some man’s affection.

Hetty, you old romantic. I hate to break it to you but knowing Sally Jenkins down the road it probably belongs to her. She has been engaged more times than I’ve had hot dinners; to the same man three times and to eight others at the last count. She never marries them though. Lucky thing seems to be having men practically queuing up to offer their hand in marriage, always some rich bachelor too. At the book club last night she told us the last one, some Lord somebody or other, had the audacity to give her a cubic zirconia ring instead of a diamond one, apparently it ended up in the sea, along with the rings of the other men that either cheated or lied to her.

I’d be grateful to get any kind of ring. I’m still tainted at the moment, the grieving widow. Half the eligible bachelors in the village and surrounding areas, of which there aren’t many, look at me like I’m an unexploded bomb and they’re scared I may go off at any time. They let me win at pool in the pub and they never charge me for car repairs just in case I might start crying again. The other half still see me as Nick’s and think it would be disloyal to him to go behind his back and court me.

I’m not really looking for a man at the moment. It’s still hard to think of being with another man that’s not Nick. But although I’m not in the market, an appreciative glance wouldn’t go amiss, instead of the looks of pity or fear I get from most men.

You need to get away. You’re welcome to come and stay with me in Tenby. I can take you over to Skomer. If you come in a few weeks they’ll be hundreds of Puffins.

Olly said the same thing when he was here. He’s offered me his beach house in California. I may go there for a few weeks before the peak season hits.

Tenby beach or California? Lord I know which I’d choose. Though I do have the added bonus of my lovely gardener, Connor. He is the most beautiful man I have ever seen. The most amazing arms, so muscular, thick strong thighs, lovely hands. I do so love a man who is good with his hands. If I was thirty years younger I wouldn’t mind having a go myself. He might be just what you need as a distraction.

Thursday:

Mmmm Tenby is looking more and more tempting. To see the Puffins of course.

Yes, maybe Connor could take you over to Skomer to see them. There’s loads of secluded remote sections of the island.

Haha, Hetty, you are wicked.

Come for dinner tonight and we can discuss this in person rather than through the medium of this book.

Not my fault you always seem to be out when I pop in.

Not to burst your bubble my lovely, but I do have other people to see whilst I’m here. I’m cramming in as many morning teas, lunches and afternoon cake sessions as I possibly can with the lovely people of Wells. I’ll squeeze you in at seven tonight.

I’m honoured.

Friday:

It’s been lovely seeing you again Annie. It was great chatting to you last night and I’m so looking forward to paying back your hospitality in Tenby in a few weeks. Give my love to William, that’ll freak him out.

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