Gosh, he was handsome.
She walked to his side, looked outside and gasped.
Clara had never noticed trees before but the tree at the back of the cottage was spectacular. Tall, with a wide trunk and thick glossy leaves, it spread across the back of the property with perfect branches to climb on, some dipping along the ground and up again.
‘Oh, now that almost makes it worth it,’ said Clara staring in awe at the grand tree.
‘That is the most perfect tree I have ever seen,’ said Henry. ‘A solid ten out of ten.’
‘Do you usually rate trees?’ Clara asked.
‘No but this one requires a score, don’t you think?’
Pansy walked around the side of the house, carrying a bunch of dandelions.
‘It’s perfect for climbing,’ said Henry and Clara glanced at him.
His jawline under his beard was strong and she couldn’t help comparing it to Piles and his lack of chin.
‘How long have you had your beard for?’ she heard herself asking. Oh shit, Clara, use your mental filter. That was a boundary-crossing question and also it was weird. It was the sort of question you asked someone while you lay in their arms after passionate sex, not standing in your derelict cottage rating trees.
‘Since I was twenty-five, so ten years,’ he said, not seemingly bothered by her question.
‘I’d like to grow a beard,’ she said. Oh my God, Clara. Stop speaking, never speak again.
‘Really?’ Henry was looking at her as though she was an alien.
‘I mean, if I could… They look fun.’
STOP. TALKING.
Thankfully Pansy was coming towards them.
‘So, what’s the dealio?’ she asked them.
‘Pardon?’ asked Clara. This little girl wasn’t what she thought a six-year-old should be.
‘The house, are we working on it, Dad, or going to look at the Dale house?’ Pansy had her hands on her hips again and was looking at them to make a decision.
Henry looked at Clara. ‘I should get you a price for the roof then.’
Clara walked back into the kitchen. ‘I need more than the roof; I need it all done. And I have no idea what I’m doing or what tradesmen to get and honestly, this is all a bit of a disaster.’
Henry put his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth in his work boots.
‘I can do it all but it would be expensive.’
‘I have money,’ said Clara quickly. She didn’t know why she trusted him but she did, even if his kid was like a mafia boss.
‘I can make it liveable to start with and then you can decide what needs doing in what order,’ he said.
Clara thought for a moment. She didn’t have another choice or anywhere else to go. She had made a decision and she had to deal with it.
‘Okay, let’s start with the roof and go from there.’
Pansy was looking at each of them as they spoke.
‘You’d better let Don Dale know we won’t be coming,’ she said to her father.
‘Yes, I am aware of the procedure, Forewoman Pansy.’
Clara tried not to laugh at the disdain on the girl’s face.
Henry cleared his throat and Clara looked at him.
‘When Pansy and I do a job, I usually stay on the land or as close as possible. That way it’s easy for me to take the van off the car and we can settle here for however long it takes. We don’t get in the way; we’re self-sufficient.’
‘Oh wow, you really do live in it. Well, that’s fine. Park wherever you want. I might need to come and borrow a cup of sugar, so it would be wonderful to have neighbours.’
She knew she was talking too much again. Her mother used to say it was because she was nervous and needed to fill the space. Piles had said it was overcompensating for not thinking she was interesting enough. She wondered now if he had thought she was uninteresting. Perhaps he had said it as a way to try and get her to look at herself and what she talked about. Was she boring? Most people thought they were interesting and funny, but not everyone was. Piles was the perfect example of this.
‘I will get you a quote to be sure you want to move ahead though,’ said Henry. ‘I think you will need the entire roof to be replaced.’
Clara sighed. ‘I guess I’d better look at the rest of the place. Will you do the tour with me? In case I decide to throw it all in and set fire to the lot?’
Henry laughed. ‘Don’t you dare. This place is going to be gorgeous. You can come up from London and spend weekends here and get a dog and live happily ever after.’
Clara looked around the kitchen.
‘It’s my forever home. I threw it all in, back in London, and dumped the boyfriend,’ she said, refusing to let Piles win that one. ‘I guess I have to make it work because I don’t have anything or anyone else.’
‘You have us,’ said Pansy. Clara looked down at the child who pulled a dandelion from behind her back and handed it to Clara. ‘Blow on it and make a wish.’
So Clara closed her eyes and blew on the dandelion and made her wish.
7
That afternoon the moving van rolled up outside the cottage and two men jumped down.
‘This it, love?’ one of the men with a single tooth asked Clara.
‘Oh God, my stuff is here,’ she said to Henry.
‘Tell them to put it all in the living room and I’ll push the furniture back and you can unpack as you need. Did you label the boxes?’ he asked Clara, who frowned.
‘No, I was in a rush,’ she tried to explain. Why hadn’t she labelled the boxes? She knew the answer. Because she was furious when she packed, tipping entire kitchen drawers into boxes with entire drawers of underwear.
She had books mixed with bathroom products, which had probably leaked knowing her luck, and she had artwork wrapped in floor rugs
