He had been wrong about her. She was cruel and knew where to place her cuts so they hurt the most.
‘When the van is repaired, Pansy and I will be on our way,’ he said quietly.
‘I think that’s best,’ she said.
He could hear a fly angrily buzzing somewhere.
‘And I’ll get a new box to put Naomi in.’ He tapped the lid of the container.
‘Oh keep it. I’m sure she won’t mind being carted around in your substitute wife’s cottage pie container.’
Henry had had enough and he stood up so quickly, his chair fell over with a loud bang. He saw Clara jump and step backwards.
‘You are so out of line, I can’t believe it. You know nothing about what is in my head, because you don’t ask. You’re not any more interested in a future with me than you think I am with you. You haven’t asked about Pansy starting school, or even invited us to live with you. We have no idea what you want and we are essentially homeless while fixing you this lovely home, which you don’t spend any time on. You say you want this simple life but you’re filling your life with other people’s problems. Rachel and Tassie and the bakery. What are you running away from, Clara?’ His voice was raised now, which was rare for him but he was furious at her assumptions and unreasonable attitude.
‘Nothing – mind your business. I’m not paying you for your advice,’ she screamed in return.
‘So what are you paying me for? To fix the cottage or to sleep with you?’ As soon as he said that he regretted it and her face was shattered.
‘Oh God, I’m so sorry.’ He rushed to her side but she pushed him away.
‘No, no, no.’ She ran upstairs and he heard the door slam and then just the angry buzzing of a fly somewhere.
48
Tassie had watched Clara leave with a wave and knew the plan had worked. She would get the tearooms up and running and put Merryknowe back on the map again. The little village had so much to offer and now Rachel and Joe were swinging hands and Henry and Clara were an item, soon there would be more little ones in the village and those empty shops and houses would fill up again.
For years she had watched the village contract until it was barely even a place to stop for passers-by. It wasn’t as pretty as some of the other villages around with their window boxes and watermills in the town square or Roman ruins and tour guides. But Merryknowe now had Clara and Rachel. They were the real love affair, she realised as she closed the curtains.
A gentle friendship that gave them both what they needed. Support and a purpose.
But there was still the issue of Clara’s secret.
Tassie didn’t know what it was but she felt it heavy and always around Clara, following her, watching her like a ghost.
And that’s when Tassie knew the secret was Clara’s father. He was the ghost of regret and guilt and anger.
And if Clara didn’t finally admit the secret, let the truth out where it couldn’t grow in the darkness of shame, it would eat her alive and she would end up like Sheila Batt: alone, and dead in her bed.
Tassie rushed across the road, not even bothering to close her front door, and banged her small fist on the glass door of the bakery, calling out Rachel’s name.
Please come, Rachel, she said to herself, as she heard a car behind her.
‘You all right, Mrs McIver?’ she heard Joe’s voice say.
‘Oh, Joe, can you take me to Clara’s cottage? It’s urgent.’
Joe frowned and called out to Rachel and rang the bell above her head, which she was too short to reach.
Rachel came downstairs with a grin on her face, seemingly happy to see them both.
‘Hello there,’ she said, opening the door.
‘Mrs McIver needs to go to Clara’s; says it’s urgent,’ said Joe. ‘Shall I take her?’
He looked to Rachel for approval.
‘Is everything all right?’ Rachel asked Tassie. ‘Did she tell you about our plans?’
‘What plans?’ asked Joe.
But Tassie shook her hands at them both. ‘That can all wait. Joe, take me to Acorn Cottage now, and then come back to see Rachel and she can share it all with you then.’
Tassie spoke in her best schoolteacher voice and Joe and Rachel both immediately responded.
‘Righto then. Let’s go to my van and I’ll give you a quick hoick up.’
‘No one will be hoicking me up or down. I can get in myself,’ said Tassie as she marched down to the van.
She did need a small hoick from Joe but neither of them mentioned it and they were soon on their way to the cottage.
Tassie played over the strategy in her head as they rounded the corner and she saw Clara’s red car outside the cottage.
‘Thank you, Joe, I can take it from here. You head back to see your Rachel.’
‘My Rachel, I like that,’ he said as he opened the door for her and helped her down.
‘Oh and, Joe?’ She turned to him as he walked to the driver’s side of the van.
‘Yes, Mrs McIver?’
‘Can you shut my front door for me?’
Joe smiled, waved and drove away while Tassie stood outside the gate of the cottage.
She could see the patches where Henry had been preparing the walls for new paint. The roof was on and looking very proud. The garden was somewhat more tamed but Clara needed to spend more time in it. But the gate was fixed and the sign reading Acorn Cottage was strong and sturdy.
She pushed open the gate and heard a
