Willow Cottage – Part One: Sunshine and Secrets. Bella Osborne

barely visible through the overgrown greenery. Beth followed but, as she got closer, Leo disappeared down the jungle side of the property.

      ‘Hang on, Leo. Careful!’ she called, wishing she hadn’t worn a skirt and heels. Leo squeezed himself between the ancient wall and the plant and disappeared. ‘Leo! Ouch!’ she said as her bare legs found some hidden nettles. When she eventually managed to wriggle through the gap, destroying her Ted Baker blouse in the process, her eyes searched quickly for Leo. He was leaning over a low wire fence into a field looking at three horses that were eyeing him speculatively.

      ‘Look, Mum, horses!’ said Leo as he jumped up and down with delight. When he stopped bouncing Beth stood behind him and hugged him. It was a view to behold. The field the horses were in was part of a magnificent patchwork thrown over the undulating hillside that surged away from the cottage. They could see for miles. A small stream trickled its way down the side of the cottage, the gentle natural sound of flowing water instantly calming Beth’s senses. She breathed in the light warm air that held a hint of lavender. Somewhere in this forest of a back garden there must be a lavender bush, she thought. The back garden was considerably smaller than the front, as if they had built the cottage as far from the willow tree as they could and without considering the best layout for the occupants. Or perhaps it was to angle the cottage so it had these amazing countryside views from the rear windows?

      She hugged Leo as he excitedly pointed at his surroundings. Beth suddenly felt very out of her depth. What had she been thinking to move this far away from London? She’d never lived in the countryside before, she’d only ever lived in the city. It all looked very picturesque but already she could feel her nose tickling, perhaps it was hay fever. She knew nothing about the countryside and, if it were possible, she knew even less about restoring a dilapidated property.

      Willow Cottage from the back was no prettier than the front. More boarded-up windows and more galloping greenery. Beth left Leo, who was frantically waving grass at the horses who were observing him mildly as they chewed their own plentiful grass supply. She stood by the back door; it was a stable door, split in two and sturdy. It was unusual and she liked that. Beth stepped back and took in the old tired building. It was in a state but perhaps it was better inside. She decided she wasn’t going to give up just yet as she felt a sprig of optimism take root.

      ‘Come on, Leo, let’s find somewhere to have a drink. That tearoom looked good and I bet they do a good scone.’

      ‘Yay, cake,’ said Leo, throwing the grass over the fence and wriggling his way back through the gap at the side of the cottage. Beth followed and was taking Leo’s hand as they reached the willow when the bush-like branches of the tree parted and an old man stumbled out towards them. His face was red, he was waving his arms and looked rather cross, a little like a baby who had been woken from a nap.

      ‘Argh!’ shouted Beth as Leo screamed and ran towards the gap in the fence where the gate had once been. Beth ran after Leo and didn’t look back until she had hold of his hand and they were safely on the village green. Leo started to laugh. Fear and adrenalin mixed inside her and, whilst Beth was now frantically looking back towards the willow tree, she was laughing too.

      ‘Does he live in our garden?’ giggled Leo.

      ‘I really hope not,’ said Beth with feeling.

      They were still chuckling as they entered the tearoom. Having not seen many people about the village, the tearoom held the answer – it was packed. There was one small table left near the door that appeared to be where the other customers had deposited used cups and plates. Leo sat down and Beth automatically handed him her mobile phone to play games on. Beth piled up the empties as best she could, creating a bit of a teacup tower and turned with the laden tray to return them to the counter.

      As she turned, the door swung open and caught her elbow. As the heavy tray started to tip its load towards her son she countered the effect and promptly deposited the entire cargo over the person entering. The crash was quite spectacular as everything smashed on the floor.

      ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake!’ yelled the man who had failed to dodge the impact.

      ‘I am so sorry,’ said Beth, feeling the prickle of sweat on her chest as a violent flush engulfed her. Leo giggled behind her.

      ‘Look at the state of me!’ declared the teacup tower victim as dregs of tea and coffee dripped off his otherwise pristine white shirt. Beth surveyed the man who was now trying to kick cake crumbs off his shoes. He was in his mid to late twenties, clean-shaven, his dark hair had a hint of auburn and under neat dark brows were the palest grey-blue eyes she’d ever seen. Right now they were glinting like ice crystals as he grumbled to the fully tuned-in audience who all sat in silence staring at the floorshow.

      A big-haired woman came bustling from behind the counter wearing a floral waist apron. ‘Oh, Jack, whatever happened?’ she said, attempting to dab at his suit trousers with a sponge.

      ‘Your new waitress threw a tray at me.’

      ‘Excuse me, I don’t work here,’ said Beth, feeling her temperature go up a notch with indignation.

      ‘Then why did you have a tray of crockery?’ asked Jack with a frown.

      ‘Yes, why?’ added the aproned woman.

      ‘I was helping, well trying to …’ said Beth, her voice now a lot smaller than it had been.

      Jack huffed, ‘Yeah, great help.’ He shook his head and then watched the aproned woman as she continued to dab at his lower half.

      ‘Er, Rhonda, that’s not helping.’

      Rhonda appeared to be in her own little world for a moment. ‘Oh, um, sorry. Here,’ she offered him the sponge.

      ‘Could you get me a double espresso to go, please, and I’ll be back in five minutes when I’ve changed.’ He aimed the last words in Beth’s direction and turned and left.

      ‘I’ll pay for that and the broken crockery,’ offered Beth.

      ‘It’s okay, accidents happen,’ said Rhonda. Beth crouched down as best she could in the fitted skirt and started to pick up the worst of the broken porcelain.

      She was thankful for the sympathetic smile Rhonda gave her. ‘Don’t worry. Maureen will do that.’ A large lady who would be a prime candidate for over-60’s cage fighting, if there were such a thing, appeared from behind the counter brandishing a dustpan and brush.

      Beth retreated to the small table and sat down. As Maureen cleared up, the tearoom clients went back to their drinks now that the entertainment was over. Beth waited patiently and Leo swung his legs and huffed a lot. The tearoom was equally quaint inside with mismatched crockery and simple wooden tables and chairs with gingham seat cushions in an array of colours.

      Out of the window they had a good view of the village; a car trundled past and stopped to let the ducks waddle across the road before it drove through the ford and out of the village. Beth checked her watch. She needed to book them in somewhere for the night and she hadn’t seen any hotels since they left the motorway.

      ‘What do you want?’ asked Maureen, gripping a small notepad, her stubby pencil poised, her tone disgruntled.

      ‘A cranberry juice and a caffeine-free Coke, please,’ asked Beth with her best ‘I’m sorry’ smile.

      Maureen stared at her and a muscle near her eye twitched. She tapped the laminated card on the table. ‘Teas, coffees, hot chocolate, lemonade or squash.’

      ‘Oh,’ said Beth hurriedly, familiarising herself with the items on the card. ‘Is it sugar-free lemonade?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘What flavours of cordial do you have?’

      ‘Orange and it’s squash,’ said Maureen. There was more twitching.

      ‘Hot chocolate, hot chocolate …’ Leo chanted.

      ‘Um,’ Beth frantically reread the list again. ‘Just two