Page 18 of Sunset at Embthwaite Farm
An hour later,after a friendly chat and a cup of tea with Jane, Anna was back in her own place, her things unpacked—she really hadn’t had that much—pootling about with not much to do. She considered going back to Embthwaite Farm to check on things there, but she decided instead simply to savour the peace and quiet of her own place for a good fifteen minutes before she headed back into the fray.
She curled up in the armchair by the wood burner, imagining sipping her morning coffee and watching the sunrise over the frost-tipped garden while the wood burner blazed merrily away. It was a lovely thought, although also, Anna admitted, a slightly lonely one.
She was used to being on her own, heaven knew, and she’d always liked her own company, but she had to admit that being around her daughters again, as prickly as they could be, had opened up something inside her. A longing for more—more relationship, affection, intimacy even.
The thought was surprising. Beyond renewing her relationship with her daughters, she had not considered any other possibilities. For thirteen years, there had been no other possibilities, not even the of the remote kind. She’d gone on a few cringeworthy blind dates, urged on by a friend, but they had been lessons in endurance more than evenings of enjoyment, and she’d been glad to see the last of them.
Maybe it was Rachel asking about her marriage earlier or remembering the heady whirlwind of her and Peter’s first romance…but for the first time in donkey’s years, Anna found herself missing that connection with another person. With a man.
She was fifty-three years old, she told herself, as something of a warning, but then she thought—what of it? Fifty-three wasn’tdead. Why shouldn’t she meet someone, find love again? Yet the likelihood of finding that person—should he even exist—inMatheringseemed minimal, indeed. If she hadn’t met someone in Stroud in all these years, not even so much as a wistful what-if, she was hardly likely to meet someone here, in a place even more rural and remote than Gloucestershire, and with so many difficult memories attached to it.
A knock on the door had her startling from her thoughts. Had Jane forgotten to tell her something? But when Anna went to open the door, it wasn’t her new neighbour standing there beady-eyed and determined, but her old one.
“Diana!” she exclaimed in surprise.
“Barbara, who runs the post office, told me you’d moved here,” Diana announced by way of explanation. “And I was in town, so I thought I’d stop by. Such a dear little place—it looks as cute as a button! Do you mind if I come in? It’s cold as the dickens outside.”
“Of course,” Anna said, still stunned by her arrival, as she stepped aside. “How did Barbara know I was moving here?”
“She had to take down the flyer, didn’t she?” Diana replied reasonably as she headed back to the kitchen. “Oh, isn’t this space amazing! No wonder you snapped it up. Jane told her all about you—she put two and two together. It wasn’t hard.”
“No,” Anna replied faintly. So, this was how people poked their noses into her business! Well, so be it. It wasn’t that terrible, really. “I don’t suppose it was,” she conceded with a smile. “I’d offer you a cup of tea, but I haven’t brought anything in yet.”
“Oh, don’t mind me, I just wanted a nose round,” Diana told her with a smile and a wave of her hand. “And I wanted to invite you to the quiz night at the village hall next Thursday. It’s for the Rotary Club and I’m not taking no for an answer! We need teams of six and I’m the fifth, with Ben and Rachel and Harriet and Quinn. You’re a natural sixth.”
“Oh…” Anna was startled. She hadn’t done anything social since she’d arrived in Mathering. “What about Peter? Who will look after him?”
“That’s all sorted. Tilly Wiggins, who does my hair, used to be a carer in a nursing home. She hates quizzes and so she said she’d sit with him for the evening.”
“I don’t know if Peter—”
“Peter can manage,” Diana cut her off briskly. “And everyone could use a night out, don’t you think? It will be fun.”
Itwouldbe fun, Anna thought suddenly. She’d like to get to know Quinn and Ben better, and to spend time with her daughters that wasn’t endlessly raking over the past or attempting to navigate the future. She wanted to have fun—good, old-fashioned fun, with no strings attached.
“Well, then?” Diana asked, looking as if she was about to launch into all the reasons why Anna should attend.
“Sounds wonderful,” Anna replied breezily, surprising her neighbour as well as herself. “I can’t wait.”
Chapter Eight
Mathering’s village hallwas positively heaving with people as Anna stepped inside, behind Rachel and Ben, Harriet and Quinn. Diana had arrived an hour ago to help set up, as she was on the organisational committee for the quiz, and Anna glimpsed her bustling from table to table.
“Looks more popular than the ceilidhs, at least,” Rachel muttered, rolling her eyes at Harriet, who grinned back. Apparently, they’d gone to some ceilidh back when Rachel had first returned that had been…interesting. Anna hadn’t heard the whole story, but she hoped to.
Tonight, everyone thankfully seemed to have received the memo that this evening was aboutfun, not dwelling on any old scores that still needed to be settled. Rachel and Harriet had both been more than amenable to the idea of them all going to the quiz together, which had gratified Anna, as had her conversation with Harriet the day before, when she’d finally had a chance to explain about her move into town.
“I think that’s wise,” Harriet had told her with a decisive nod, clearly choosing her words with care. “You’re right, we could all use the space, and I’m pretty busy with the baking business now, as it is.”
“You were the one who mentioned it first,” Anna had reminded her with a smile, “so I think you’re the wise one! I just took you up on the good idea you had.”
Harriet had smiled rather shyly at that, and Anna had felt something in her heart loosen and expand. These little interactions were still challenging, but they were getting so much easier. So much less fraught.
It really was such a relief, she thought now, not to feel quite so much as if she were tiptoeing around everyone and everything. Yes, things were still a bit tense sometimes, as they were bound to be, especially with Peter’s condition looming over them all. The GP hadn’t been able to predict his life expectancy, but he had suggested months and maybe even weeks would be generous, and a palliative nurse had been assigned to him, to come to the house twice a week to manage his pain relief. It saddened Anna, mainly for her daughters, whom she knew would miss their father—both the man he’d been, and the man they’d longed for him to be and now never would be.
And yet, despite all that, things overall did feel more positive. Yesterday morning she’d had coffee in the armchair by the wood burner just as she’d imagined, and it had beenlovely, watching the sky turn lavender and then rose as sunlight stole over the world. She’d done a big food shop and made herself an elaborate and creamy pasta dish, eating it all by herself in front of the television, feeling positively decadent for doing so.
She’d also spent a lot of time at the farm—tidying up, doing laundry, and making meals. She’d avoided Peter, mainly for Harriet and Rachel’s sakes, since his reactions to her were so stressful, but she’d done her best to be helpful and she felt, for the first time, that her efforts were genuinely appreciated, with murmured thanks and a few warm smiles. It was, Anna acknowledged, a good feeling.
