The Little Clock House on the Green. Eve Devon

rusty. Start at the beginning. You went to The Clock House and…?’

      Kate took a couple of calming breaths. ‘Sorry. And sorry, Aunt Cheryl – I know I said I was going to see Mum, but I–’ she dragged in another calming breath, ‘I went to The Clock House instead. I haven’t been back there since,’ she swallowed and Juliet’s heart broke at the bleak light that had crept into her cousin’s eyes. ‘I haven’t been able to go back there since Bea died and so, well, that’s where I went. At first the memories where overwhelming but, then it was almost as if it knew what I could handle, you know?’ she looked up at both Juliet and Cheryl for confirmation and all Juliet could do was smile gently back. ‘Anyway, it was good. Great actually…’

      Juliet’s heart leaped.

      ‘…I mean there was a middle bit where it wasn’t,’ Kate continued. ‘Where I started thinking I can’t do this. I can’t be here. And I definitely can’t follow old dreams and open the place back up as a business. And I was thinking how on earth am I going to tell you, Juliet?’

      Juliet felt Kate looking at her and hoped she couldn’t see the blood draining from her face. Kate was the strongest person she knew and she really thought that tempting her into coming back was the right thing to do. But the angst in her voice, the fine tremble in the hands she’d clasped together in front of her…

      ‘But then,’ Kate continued, ‘I walked out into the courtyard and through the moon-gate – and I saw Bea’s bees. They are Bea’s, aren’t they?’

      Juliet nodded.

      ‘Are you looking after them?’ Kate asked her.

      Juliet shook her head and tried to find her voice. The pretty little beehives that had stood in the meadow backing onto The Clock House remained because of one person. And darn it – why did she always lose the ability to speak when it came to him?

      ‘Is it–’ Kate looked from Juliet to Cheryl, ‘Is it Oscar that’s looking after them?’

      Juliet felt the weight of her mother’s stare, despite it being so gentle. Oh, good grief, she knew.

      ‘It is, Oscar, yes,’ Cheryl said.

      Juliet watched Kate’s eyes close as if to absorb what that meant and her hand snuck under the table again, this time to pick nervously at the hem of her dress.

      ‘Okay, well, that’s good,’ Kate eventually whispered, shaking her head a little, presumably to put the unshed tears back in their place. ‘It’s good to think of them being looked after. Bea loved them so.’

      Juliet couldn’t bear it. Getting up from the table, she said, ‘It’s got to be wine o’clock somewhere in the world, right?’

      Kate sniffed. ‘Don’t bother on my account. I’m okay. It was just a shock to see them, that’s all. But, oh – I haven’t even told you… It was seeing the bees that made me think everything might be okay after all.’

      ‘It was?’ Juliet felt those little wings of hope flutter inside her chest.

      ‘Yes. I don’t know if Bea ever told anyone, but she came up with all these wonderful recipes for using honey in her organic beauty treatments. That’s why she kept the bees.’

      ‘That hair conditioner she used to make,’ Cheryl murmured. ‘She was always telling me there was a secret ingredient. Must have been the honey.’

      ‘It was,’ Kate admitted. ‘And when I saw the bees it reminded me about how she went to see Old Man Isaac to ask him if she could site them there and how he was so kind to her. After seeing them, all I could think was that I wanted to use Bea’s honey. I want to open the day spa. I have to do it. Somehow. Which brings me to the teeny-tiny thorny problem…’

      ‘Whatever it is, I’m sure we can fix it,’ Juliet immediately said. ‘I’ll help.’

      ‘You have no idea how much I love you for saying that,’ Kate replied. ‘It’s this Daniel… he wants to buy it!’

      ‘Buy what? Bea’s bees? The honey?’

      ‘No. He wants to buy The Clock House.’

      ‘But whatever for?’ Juliet asked, feeling all her plans slip away.

      ‘Not sure. Can’t let him get it, though. I need to phone Old Man Isaac and organise a meeting, or do you think it would be more professional to go through the estate agent? No. Business is all about using your contacts, right?’

      Juliet’s mum stood up. ‘I think I’ll love you and leave you both. You have a lot to talk over together.’

      Juliet winced. She would have to be blind and in another room not to pick up on her mum’s pointed comment.

      As Cheryl went to leave she put a reassuring hand over Kate’s. ‘I’m so happy for you, lovey. You’ve done all your firsts now. I think you’ve picked a lovely reason to stay. And I know your mum will want to hear about this. But when you’re ready, okay?’

      Kate quickly wiped a tear away. ‘You really think she’ll be okay with me being back? I don’t want to hurt her – make it worse for her.’

      ‘Give it time. You have that if you’re back now. I know it’s easier on you not to expect anything. But she is trying. Truly. Juliet, if you need to go to any business meetings with Kate phone me early enough that I can shuffle my day around and fit your clients in.’

      ‘Um, thanks, Mum.’

      ‘Thanks, Auntie Cheryl,’ Kate smiled up at her and then Juliet felt her turn her attention to her. ‘And thank you, Juliet. If you hadn’t sent me those postcards…’ and then, as if what Juliet’s mum had just said had filtered through, she frowned and then laughed, ‘I appreciate your support, but you certainly don’t have to come to any meeting with me.’

      ‘Actually,’ Juliet said, clearing her throat, ‘about that…’

       Chapter 10

       And the Cats Just Keep on Coming…

       Juliet

      ‘Juliet?’ Kate asked, the moment her mum had left the cottage. ‘What was your mum going on about? Why would you want to be in on a meeting about buying The Clock House?’

      Juliet let out a breath and wondered how on earth to explain, without having to really, you know, explain.

      ‘Sod it,’ she muttered and got up to search for that bottle of Dutch courage. She pulled an opened bottle of white wine out of the fridge, but it was when she went to pull the cork out with her teeth that she realised Kate was staring at her with a mystified expression on her face.

      ‘Is the alcohol for celebrating with or commiserating with?’

      ‘Can it be both and still be okay?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ Kate said carefully. ‘Have I got this all wrong? Did you not send me those postcards because you wanted me to come home and buy The Clock House?’

      ‘No, you haven’t got that wrong,’ she answered and with a sigh stuck the cork back in the bottle because maybe it would be better to save the alcohol for Kate’s reaction, rather than being half-sozzled before she’d even finished explaining.

      ‘Okay,’ Kate said warily. ‘I know it must have been hard not telling anyone about the money and where it came from,’ she waited a heartbeat and then added, ‘you haven’t, have you?’

      ‘No. I kept your secret.’ It hadn’t been that difficult. Telling anyone would have just made them hurt for what could now never be changed.

      ‘Thank