Page 14 of Sunset at Embthwaite Farm
Anna let out a surprised laugh. “Definitely.”
“Excellent.” Jane let out another hoot. “This is Henry.” She hoisted the baby a little higher on her hip. “He’s six months old and he’s teething terribly. Shall I show you next door?”
“Yes, please.” Anna smiled, liking the innate and easy friendliness of this woman. She felt as if they were friends already, and it certainly, she acknowledged ruefully, made for a change.
“I’ll just get the key,” Jane said and ducked down the hallway, returning within seconds with a large brass key that looked like something out of a costume drama or a murder mystery. “Here we are,” she said cheerfully and headed out her neat front garden to the one next door which looked, Anna noticed, a bit straggly and woebegone.
“Dad’s not much of a gardener,” Jane told her as she unlocked the door, trying to balance Henry as she did so, while the baby lurched to the side like a listing ship.
“Do you want me to unlock the door?” Anna asked. “Or I could hold Henry, if you’d rather?” Belatedly she wondered if that was a bit forward, asking to manhandle another mother’s child.
“Oh,wouldyou?” Jane asked gratefully, thrusting the baby towards her so quickly that Anna practically had to lunge forward to grab him. It had been a long time since she’d held a baby, and for a second, she grappled with his chubby, flailing limbs, wincing as he smacked her in the face before patting her cheeks with both hands in a more experimental manner.
“I’ve been holding him all day,” Jane explained with a grateful sigh as she unlocked the door, “and he’s so heavy, the monster. A few minutes without him in my arms isheaven.” She glanced back approvingly as Anna adjusted Henry onto her hip and he continued to pat both her cheeks, making breathy noises as he did so. “He obviously likes you. Do you have children?”
Anna swallowed, discomfited by what was clearly meant to be an innocuous question. “Yes, two daughters. They live locally, actually, which is why I’m interested in renting here in Mathering.”
“Oh, do they?” Jane asked in interest. “I wonder if I know them.” She pushed open the door and ushered Anna into a narrow hallway painted in dove grey. “What are their names? Not that I’ve met many people yet. I’ve only been living here for nine months, and it’s been all baby, baby, baby for most of that time.” She rolled her eyes, making Anna smile. She remembered thatbaby, baby, babystage all too well.
“They’re Harriet and Rachel Mowbray,” she told her as she stepped into the hallway. “Rachel just moved here from London in September, and Harriet’s lived here all along, but she’s started a bakery business recently.” She stopped abruptly, not really wanting to go into her daughters’ complicated lives—or really, her complicated presence in them—any more than that.
“Sounds lush,” Jane replied easily. She flicked on the lights before glancing at Anna in query. “Do you want me to take him back so you can have a proper look round?”
Anna sensed that the young woman would happily have her keep holding the baby, and so she smiled as she gave Henry a little jiggle, which elicited another delighted squeal as well as a rather firm pat of both her cheeks. “I don’t mind holding him a bit longer,” she told her. “If he’s happy. I haven’t held a baby in a long time. I forgot how lovely it was.” And it was lovely, this warm armful of wriggling and curious humanity.
“Lovely until you feel like your arms are going to fall off and your shirt is covered in dribbled milk, and let’s be real, sick,” Jane returned with a laugh. “But please, by all means, go ahead. He’s gorgeous, I’ll be the first to say so, but you know what? The days can feel long.”
Anna remembered all too well just how long the days had felt. When she’d had Harriet, Rachel had only been fifteen months old. Those first few years had passed in a dreary haze of exhaustion, a sleep-deprived trudge through the hours. She’d thought there was something wrong with her, for dreading each day the way she had, but maybe all new mothers felt that way, to one extent or another. It washard.
“Now, the kitchen is here in the back,” Jane said as she led Anna down the narrow hallway to an open space in the back. “It’s been completely renovated, as you can see.”
“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” Anna exclaimed in surprised delight. The space was far better—and bigger—than she’d been anticipating from the exterior. The original, poky rooms had been knocked together, with a massive, vaulted skylight put in to let in loads of light. French doors opened to the postage-stamp-sized garden, which was as bedraggled as the front.
“Dad thought he’d wait until spring to get the garden in order,” Jane explained. “Although, let’s be honest, he hasn’t much of a green thumb.”
“So, your dad did this place up?” Anna asked as she wandered around the kitchen. It had all new appliances, including a cheerful, cream-coloured cooker and a built-in fridge. A tiny utility room, more of a cupboard really, housed the washer and dryer. On the other side of the kitchen, there was a table for two as well as a wood burner, flanked by a pair of squashy leather armchairs.
“Yes, he bought it when Eric—that’s my husband—and I moved here. He’s just retired, and he wanted a project.”
“But he didn’t want to live here himself?” Anna asked in surprise.
“He thought about it,” Jane conceded, “but he decided he needed a little more space. And we probably did, too, to be fair. He can be a bit protective, my dad, and Eric and I have only been married eighteen months. We’re still finding our feet, and I think we both appreciate having Dad nearby, but nottooclose. He bought a barn conversion just outside Mathering. It’s nice and big, and it’s got a lovely garden for Henry, when he starts to toddle.”
“Makes sense,” Anna murmured. She was intrigued by this man who had upended his whole life to follow his daughter yet had the sense to stay that little bit away…kind of like she was.
“Do you want to see the rest?” she asked, and Anna nodded with firm decision.
“Yes, please.”
They walked through the rest of the cottage—a small sitting room facing the front, with a two-seater sofa, coffee table, TV, and armchair by the small open fireplace with a prettily painted Victorian tiled surround. Upstairs there were two bedrooms, one clearly the master, with a built-in wardrobe, the other with two twin beds. Both were tastefully decorated in a palette of blues and greys, and the bathroom between them had a deep, claw-foot tub as well as a separate, stand-in shower and a pedestal sink. Everything was top-notch, elegant and understated, and exactly Anna’s sort of style. She couldn’t believe the place hadn’t been rented before, and she already knew she wanted to take it.
“So have you had much interest in this place?” she asked Jane as they headed back downstairs.
“No, not a bit,” the younger woman replied with a laugh. “Dad’s sceptical about putting it on Airbnb, and in any case, he only put it on the market a couple of days ago. Where did you happen to see it, by the way?”
“A flyer outside the post office.”
Jane nodded. “Yes, he put up a poster there, and another one by the village hall. I’m not sure how many takers he thought he was going to get just from those, but I’m glad you’re interested. That is…” She glanced at her with a flicker of apprehension. “Are you?”
