Coming Home to Cuckoo Cottage Read online

  Deciding my desire to freshen up was worth the risk, I stripped off, ducked under the stream of lukewarm water and squirted some of Gwen’s apple-scented shampoo into the palm of my hand. I had just worked my hair into a satisfying lather when the water switched from the wrong side of hot to arctic and began to spurt out under immense pressure. Shocked and in pain, I screamed out, leapt to the other end of the bath and made a grab for the towel, which infuriatingly slipped off the windowsill on to the floor and out of reach.

  I was just about to lunge for it again when I heard shouting and heavy footfall crashing up the stairs. I cowered in the corner of the tub as the door was flung open and in barged a man so tall he had to stoop under the door frame, and when he straightened back up he entirely filled the tiny space.

  I looked at the man and the man looked at all of me. More screaming then ensued as he bent down, threw me the towel, reached over the top of the shower curtain, turned the shower off and disappeared again. I leapt out of the bath, slammed the door shut and leant on it in lieu of the fact that there was no lock.

  ‘What the hell?’ I sobbed out loud.

  The shampoo was making a speedy bid to reach my eyes and I rubbed it away as best I could with the edge of the towel. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that, thanks to the remains of my mascara from the day before, I looked like Alice Cooper on a very bad day, not that it really mattered when there was a stranger marauding about and I was trapped naked, phoneless and shivering.

  With one ear listening out for noises from below, I took a deep breath, made a mad dash for the bedroom, swapped the towel for my dressing gown and raced down the stairs with the intention of locking the house door. Typically I’d remembered to lock it when I was examining the barns, but alone, naked and in a rush I’d left it ajar for anyone in the world to breeze in, and apparently they had.

  ‘It’s all right,’ said a deep voice from the cupboard under the stairs just as I reached the bottom step. ‘I’ve sorted it.’

  Like a rabbit caught in the headlights, I stopped in my tracks, not knowing whether to run back up or leg it out of the door and scream for help, but who would hear me here in the middle of nowhere? My phone was almost within reach if I made a lunge for it, but I knew attempting a 999 call would have been a complete waste of the final few seconds of my as yet uneventful life.

  ‘I’d been on at Gwen to get that shower sorted for months,’ the voice carried on. ‘It keeps cutting out and in the process trips out all the electric. Has anyone shown you how this fuse box works? It’s pretty ancient. You might want to think about having it replaced.’

  The voice was now accompanied by the tall, broad body that carried it about and, had I not been scared witless, I might have noticed what a wonderful specimen of a body that was. I might even have taken on board the thick dark hair and full sensuous lips, but as it was, I was still trapped at the bottom of the stairs and such detailed observation passed me by.

  Gwen had never mentioned she had a handsome handyman tucked away for such emergencies, not that I’d noticed he was handsome, of course, but what other explanation could there possibly be? I couldn’t really believe he was an opportunistic madman, who just happened to be passing, and by some amazing coincidence knew the intricacies of Gwen’s dodgy plumbing and electrics. I allowed myself to unclench a little, but I wasn’t ready to let my guard down too far just yet. After all, I was still completely naked beneath my dressing gown.

  ‘Sorry,’ he smiled, shaking his head as he took in my shocked and apple-shampoo-enhanced expression. ‘I should really introduce myself, shouldn’t I? You’re probably thinking I’m some deranged passer-by.’

  I swallowed, but didn’t say anything. Given that he had just burst into my bathroom and seen me completely naked, he was infuriatingly ill at ease.

  ‘I’m Will,’ he smiled. ‘I’m one of the vets in Wynbridge, and you must be Charlotte.’

  ‘Lottie,’ I croaked. ‘Everyone calls me Lottie.’

  ‘Actually,’ he said, holding out his hand, probably on the misguided assumption that I was going to shake it, ‘I’m William, but everyone calls me Will.’

  ‘Is that supposed to be funny?’ I swallowed, tightening the belt on my dressing gown and thinking back to my earlier introduction to Mags and Ed who had almost, word for word, said exactly the same thing.

  ‘No,’ he shrugged, ‘maybe. I’m just trying to pretend the last few minutes didn’t happen and as a result using banal humour to try and make it at least a little less excruciating for both of us.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said.

  Obviously I didn’t want him falling at my feet or anything, but surely I didn’t look that unappealing without my clothes on. Not that I wanted him to acknowledge that I looked all right either. Oh God.

  ‘No, no,’ he said when he realised how his comment had been interpreted. ‘I didn’t mean that seeing you in the shower was excruciating, it was far from it,’ he shook his head again, this time in despair. ‘And I don’t mean that the way it sounds either.’

  Seeing his cool exterior finally begin to crumble, I calmed down a little more. Perhaps he was just a regular guy after all.

  ‘Oh God,’ he huffed, running his hands through his hair, ‘and now I just sound like a total pervert.’

  Pervert or not, I decided to take the risk.

  ‘It’s all right,’ I said, climbing down the final step. ‘I think I know what you’re getting at.’

  ‘Right,’ he said, nodding enthusiastically. ‘Good. So anyway, I’m Will and you are Lottie.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, trying to draw my gaze away from his beautifully tanned forearms. ‘I think we’ve established that.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Of course, OK. Right, well you probably need to get on, and I know I do, so if you could just help me carry the stuff in and tell me where you want her.’

  ‘What stuff?’ I called after him as he strode off into the yard. ‘Want who?’

  I was disappointed to discover that it was his truck that I had seen speeding up and down the lane, and now it was parked across the gateway.

  ‘Sorry,’ I told him as he marched back over and plonked what looked remarkably like a dog bed into my arms. ‘But I don’t actually know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Minnie,’ he called back over his shoulder. ‘Like I said, I’m a vet. That’s how I know Gwen. I’m Minnie’s vet. I would have dropped her round last night, but I had an awkward calving to attend and didn’t get back until after midnight.’

  ‘Minnie?’ I squeaked.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, reappearing this time with the diminutive pooch in his arms. ‘I take it you two have met.’

  ‘Well, yes,’ I stammered. ‘A long time ago, but what about her?’

  ‘Well, she’s all yours now, isn’t she?’

  ‘You have got to be kidding me.’

  ‘I most definitely am not,’ he said, trying to hand the scruffy bundle over. ‘And by the way, your dressing gown’s slipping.’

  ‘Never mind my dressing gown,’ I said, taking a hasty step back into the house and slamming the door. ‘I’m not taking her!’ I called through the kitchen window, my arms still full of Minnie’s bed.

  ‘You bloody well are!’ Will shouted back. He sounded furious and not at all like the gallant hero who had just rescued me from certain electrocution. ‘David must have told you what Gwen wanted, and this is me passing her on. There’s no way on earth I’m taking her back again.’

  ‘Well, I’m not taking her at all!’

  It went very quiet for a few seconds and the next thing I knew he was churning up the gravel, roaring out of the yard and away up the road.

  ‘Ha,’ I said aloud. ‘That told him.’

  There was no way I was taking on a dog like Minnie, or any dog for that matter. I stared at my soapy hair and mascara-streaked reflection in the hall mirror and thought back over the many conversations I’d had with David during the last few months. He’d never said anything about m
e taking responsibility for Minnie, had he?

  I deposited the bed on the kitchen table and had just put my foot on the first step of the stairs when I heard howling outside the back door and it sounded unnervingly familiar.

  ‘Fancy that lift after all?’ asked David when I phoned him a few seconds after I had rushed back to the window and spotted Minnie tied to the gatepost in the driveway.

  I couldn’t believe Will had just dumped her there, and he called himself a vet. As soon as I finished talking to David I was going to make enquiries and find out how I could report him for animal cruelty.

  ‘No,’ I snapped. ‘Thank you and this isn’t a social call either. I’ve got Minnie here,’ I launched off.

  ‘Oh good,’ David cut in, his tone decidedly soft-hearted. ‘I bet she’s relieved to finally be home. Will has been so kind keeping her for all this time and I know it can’t have been easy for him. She’s been pining for Gwen and Cuckoo Cottage, the poor little thing, and Will is such a busy chap. He really has gone above and beyond what any of us could have asked of him.’

  Poor little thing! If he could have heard the racket she was making he wouldn’t have thought she was a poor little anything, and what was all this about Will? He certainly didn’t come across as some gifted dog whisperer to me.

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ I sighed. ‘This Eric Bana lookalike is the real deal?’

  ‘Sorry,’ said David, ‘who?’

  ‘Oh, never mind,’ I groaned. ‘Are you really telling me that Minnie has to come and live with me now?’

  ‘Well, of course she does,’ said David, sounding shocked. ‘It was one of the stipulations in Gwen’s will.’

  ‘But I don’t remember ever reading anything about Minnie,’ I said, wracking my brains. ‘I don’t remember her ever coming up at all.’

  ‘I did tell you all about it on the day of Gwen’s funeral,’ David said. ‘Don’t you remember?’

  There were a lot of things I hadn’t remembered from that initial meeting; most of it we’d since talked over, but the fate of Minnie had never come up for discussion.

  ‘No,’ I said truthfully. ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Well, to be honest, nothing ever got written down,’ David went on vaguely, ‘but Gwen was most adamant that Minnie should carry on living in Cuckoo Cottage should anything happen to her.’

  I couldn’t help wishing she might have been a little more forthcoming about the unexpected collection of caravans as well.

  ‘Right,’ I sighed. ‘I’m sure she was. But does that mean,’ I said, a glimmer of hope suddenly appearing on the horizon, ‘that if it isn’t officially written down then I have grounds to . . . ’

  ‘Oh, you wouldn’t,’ David cut in, sounding horrified, ‘surely not.’

  Right on cue Minnie let out another sorrowful howl.

  ‘No,’ I sighed, ‘of course I wouldn’t, but I’m afraid this does mean I’m going to have to cancel our meeting for today. I can’t possibly deal with her and get to you within the next half an hour.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said David. ‘I’ll get on to the bank and we’ll reschedule. I’ll ring you later with a new time.’

  ‘All right,’ I agreed, then added begrudgingly, ‘Thank you, David.’

  ‘Take your time settling her in, won’t you?’ he said kindly. ‘It’s bound to be strange for the poor little thing, being there without Gwen?’

  ‘Believe me,’ I said. ‘I understand exactly how she feels.’

  Having taken to heart what David had said about Minnie being back at Cuckoo Cottage without Gwen, I knew I had no choice but to let her in. It was all right for us humans, we could talk things through and come to some sort of understanding, but dogs and cats and the like didn’t have that capability, despite what some of the cranks in the Sunday papers said. Minnie and Gwen had been inseparable, and now the poor little thing was all on her own in the world. She was probably expecting her beloved mistress to appear at any moment and scoop her up in her arms. How could I not feel sorry for her?

  ‘Come on, then,’ I said, as I tentatively crossed the drive and untied her lead. ‘Be nice,’ I begged, expecting to feel her sharp little teeth nipping at my ankles any second. ‘Let’s see if we can figure out where to put your bed, shall we?’

  No sooner had I unhooked her lead than she was off. First she raced into the kitchen, then she was away up the stairs, diving in and out of the rooms and up and over the beds. I followed on close behind, waiting to see what she would do when she finally realised that Gwen wasn’t there. I hoped she wasn’t going to take her disappointment out on me. Given everything I’d been through in the last few months, I didn’t think I could cope with the wrath of Minnie on top of everything else.

  When she had eventually exhausted exploring every nook and cranny she jumped back up on to Gwen’s bed – my bed now – and began to circle and whimper. Not sure what I could do to comfort her, I sat down and waited. To my surprise the little dog stretched out and wriggled towards me on her belly, still sounding utterly forlorn. Tentatively I rested my hand on the eiderdown and she nuzzled underneath it, her pink tongue hanging out as she began to pant.

  ‘She isn’t here, Minnie,’ I whispered, stroking her rough little head and realising how thin she felt. ‘It’s just you and me now.’

  I looked up and spotted my reflection in the dressing-table mirror. No wonder the poor little thing was so afraid. The shampoo was rapidly drying my hair into manic stiff peaks and spikes and I knew that if I didn’t wash it out soon, I wouldn’t be able to do a thing with it.

  ‘Minnie,’ I said, pointing at my head, ‘I need to deal with this. Are you going to be all right here?’

  Not prepared to let me out of her sight just yet, she trotted into the bathroom behind me and watched on as I struggled to rinse my hair in the lukewarm water from the tap over the sink.

  ‘What a mess,’ I tutted, reaching for the conditioner. ‘We really will have to get this shower situation sorted, won’t we?’

  It quickly became obvious that the only danger Minnie posed to my health was that of a roving trip hazard. It didn’t matter where I went or what I did, she was under my feet, almost brushing my ankles, and I lost count of the number of times she ran into me because I put the brakes on before she did. I pottered about the house for a bit then went back outside to put the bike back in the greenhouse. The tyres were still inflated, which was something.

  ‘Come on, Minnie!’ I called, when I was ready to go back inside, but she didn’t come.

  I looked about the garden and across the field, but I couldn’t see her.

  ‘Where have you gone, you silly dog?’ I shouted, feeling slightly panicked.

  Surely I couldn’t have lost her already? A bark from the direction of the yard reached my ears and I locked the door to the cottage feeling rather pleased that she was leading me back in the direction of those four intriguing vans.

  ‘Oh no,’ I chastised when I finally found the naughty little thing trying to dig under the door of the smallest barn. ‘You can forget that right now. If you think I’m letting you in there so you can go rat catching you’ve got another thing coming.’

  Looking a little nonplussed, she fell back into step and together we squeezed back through the doors of the big shed.

  To my delight the caravans were all unlocked and I quickly set about admiring and exploring their deliciously authentic interiors. The Cheltenhams were by far my favourite with their real wood veneer and cute curves. One of them even had two union flags criss-crossed above the big front window. According to the paperwork on the table inside the Bailey, two of the Cheltenhams were from the Waterbuck range and the other, which was just a few inches bigger, was a Sable.

  They all bore their original features, which were wonderful in themselves, but with some pretty floral fabrics and careful reupholstering and accessorising I knew they could be even prettier. In my mind’s eye I could imagine each one having a slightly different theme and colour scheme,
but I have to admit I didn’t like the thought of parting with any of them one little bit.

  Even the less curvaceous Bailey was charming and I decided that after my meeting at the bank I would take a trip to the Cherry Tree and ask if the women there could shed any light on what had been Gwen’s real motive for buying these travelling beauties from the past, and if they didn’t know, then perhaps Chris would.

  ‘What do you think, then?’ I asked Minnie, who had been as keen as I had to hop in and out of the vans. ‘Do you like them?’

  She cocked her head to one side and then flew out of the barn at breakneck speed, heading straight up the drive towards the little yellow minivan that I hadn’t heard arrive. I watched on, open-mouthed, knowing that no matter how fast I ran I wouldn’t be able to catch her. My heart was in my mouth as Mags bent to scoop her up and relief washed over me as Minnie began to squirm in delight. Either the little dog had undergone a personality transplant recently or she had been so starved of affection under Will’s roof she was willing to love anyone who didn’t take flight when she made a beeline for them.

  ‘Hello Minnie!’ Mags laughed. ‘Hello! How excited are you to be home?’

  Clearly they were good pals and, as I pulled the big shed door shut, I wondered why Gwen had never thought to mention this lovely neighbour and her nature-loving son to me before.

  ‘Oh, she’s excited all right,’ I smiled, when I reached them. ‘I’m the one who’s still in shock.’

  ‘Did you not know you were getting her today?’ asked Ed as he climbed out of the van and carefully set the box, which, I assumed, still contained Jack, on the seat.

  ‘I didn’t know I was getting her at all,’ I confessed.

  ‘But you do want her, don’t you?’ he frowned. ‘Because if you don’t . . . ’