Page 5 of Coming Home to Roseford Villas
Rory grinned and shook her head. ‘Not yet, but you never know in a year or two!’ She took her drinks and then ordered a delectable-sounding local venison ragu. She’d switch to a glass of red wine to go with that, she thought. Giving Dave her table number, she mooched back outside and took her seat, picking up her book as she did so.
It felt rather lovely to be dining alone, with only a book for company, waiting for a good meal and sipping a decent wine. She took a few minutes before she got really stuck into the novel, to cast an eye around the pub. It was clear who the tourists were, ranging from young families to older couples, all enjoying the food and the ambience of a busy village pub on a Saturday evening. Swivelling her head to glance back into the pub, she could see tables of people who looked to be more local, chatting in a relaxed way, and, from the snatches of conversation she tuned into, talking about some of the village goings-on. The roadworks on the Taunton road seemed to be causing the most controversy.
Whiling away the time before her meal arrived, Rory felt a jolt of recognition when she saw former football manager turned writer Will Sutherland sitting at a table by the fireplace with, presumably, his family. There were three women with him, two much younger than the third. She’d read his recent autobiography, which had come out in the late spring, and knew that he’d settled in the West Country, but hadn’t realised that had meant Roseford. Well, she thought, that was another string to add to Roseford’s creative bow. Between the film productions and the writers, the place was positively overflowing with talent. Perhaps, she thought, as an attractive older woman came over with her ragu, she’d be able to tap into some of that creativity while she was here.
7
Sitting back in her chair after clearing her plate of the delicious venison ragu, Rory finally felt as though she was relaxing. She’d asked for a glass of red wine, which she was still gently sipping, and it had been a real pleasure, and a rare one, to be eating out alone. She was so used to sitting on the sofa in the flat and either eating with Alex or seeing and hearing her flatmate buzzing around in the background, that although the pub was busy, the relative solitude, where she didn’t know anyone else, felt relaxing. She’d read a fair chunk of her book, checked her phone for messages and generally started to unwind.
‘Is there anything else I can get you, love?’ The server, who Rory had learned was called Denise, was back to take her plate. ‘The specials for dessert are sticky toffee pudding or banana split.’
‘Sticky toffee pudding would be great,’ Rory replied. She would get back to sensible eating soon enough: she could treat herself to a pudding tonight.
‘Coming right up.’ Denise scribbled in her pad and bustled back off to the kitchen.
Rory read a few more pages of her book, and then, finding herself a little too drowsy from the food to concentrate on the story, put it back in her bag and just took in the atmosphere. She’d been surreptitiously glancing at Will Sutherland on and off, and it still seemed bizarre that such an eminent sporting personality should be sitting in the village pub. That surprise was compounded further a couple of minutes later when she saw none other than Finn Sanderson, movie star and film director, ducking through the pub’s low door and ordering a swift pint. She’d clocked the poster of Finn’s comeback movie,A Countess for Christmas, in a frame on the wall as she’d walked into the Treloar Arms, and was aware that Roseford had been used as a location for the movie, but that hadn’t prepared her for seeing the star of the film in person, a few yards away. This place was certainly providing a lot of inspiration, and she’d barely been here a day!
‘Here’s your sticky toffee pud, love.’ Denise returned, placing a generous portion of the delectable dish down in front of Rory. ‘Would you like a coffee with that?’
‘No, thanks,’ Rory replied. ‘I’m pretty shattered and I don’t want to be up half the night.’
‘Well, enjoy,’ Denise replied.
‘It’s busy tonight,’ Rory said. ‘Is it always like this?’
‘Well, the village is a tourist attraction these days, so we do quite well out of it!’ Denise smiled, and cast an eye around the room.
‘And, er…’ Rory paused. ‘You’ve got your fair share of celebs, too.’
‘Oh, Finn, you mean?’ Denise laughed. ‘Yes, this is his local when he’s back in the country. Nice lad. Done well for himself.’
Rory smiled. Denise was understating things. She knew Finn was one of the hottest directors in Hollywood right now, and that was what made seeing him chatting at the bar soincongruous. But then, she figured, even famous film directors had to sup their pints somewhere.
Feeling pleasantly tired after a great meal, Rory decided to call it a night. She paid the bill, thanked the landlord and then headed out into the warm evening air. There were still quite a few people about, and she smiled as she passed a couple coming down the pavement in the opposite direction. The sociable sounds of the pub receded gently into the background as she mooched up the hill back to her chalet.
Getting out for the evening had given her a little breathing space to readjust her perspective on where she’d found herself. OK, so living at the bottom of someone else’s garden hadn’t quite been the retreat she’d been expecting, but it could have been worse. Imagine if she’d been offered a room at Roseford Villas and had been forced to make small talk with Leo as he served her breakfast every morning! At least this way, although she was in his vicinity, she didn’t have to talk to him unless she needed something. And she’d make damned sure she didn’t need anything from him, if she could help it.
Pushing open the garden gate, she noticed that a light was on in the chalet. That was odd: she could have sworn she’d switched them all off when she’d gone for dinner. Curious, she ambled over and, as she moved around to the front door, she saw a figure wearing a hoodie backlit in the living area. Her heart began to race. Had someone got in and was burgling her chalet?
Cautiously, Rory edged closer. All the relaxation she’d felt at dinner had vanished, and she now felt the tension coursing back through her. Should she race up to the house and get Leo? Or maybe she should call the police?
Ears listening keenly for any sounds emanating from the chalet, Rory couldn’t resist sneaking closer. She heard the clanking of what sounded like cutlery, and then a cupboard door opening and closing. A light went on in the bathroom – was theburglar having a pee? – and then just as swiftly went off again. Finding herself transfixed, she was nearly at the front door now. The door was slightly ajar, and showed no sign of forced entry, from what she could see. Curious, as well as nervous, she gathered her wits and pushed the door open wider.
‘Hello?’ she called, relieved that her voice sounded strong and authoritative in the evening air. Her teacher voice came in handy sometimes, she thought, smiling slightly despite the nerve-racking situation.
There was a shuffling sound from the direction of the bathroom, and then a bang and an expletive.
‘Who’s there?’ Either this burglar was spectacularly inept, or this was his first job. She reached for her phone, poised to dial 999 if some knife-wielding maniac emerged from the bathroom. Then, thinking better of it, she scurried over to the kitchen area and reached for a frying pan.
Just as she’d raised it, readying herself to swing it at whoever emerged, the bathroom door opened and there was Leo, looking more than a little sheepish and embarrassed.
‘Shit! Rory, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.’ He held up both hands in an ‘I surrender’ gesture as he caught sight of the frying pan in her hands and took a step back towards the entrance to the bathroom.
‘What the hell are you doing in here?’ Rory asked. After the initial adrenaline rush, her hands and arms started to shake, and she found herself chucking the frying pan back down on the small counter by her side to relieve herself of the weight of it. The clatter made her jump again.
Leo looked sheepish. ‘I couldn’t remember if I’d restocked the towels in the bathroom after the last guests left,’ he said. ‘And, er, the loo roll? I saw you go out earlier and thought I’d nip in and check before you got back. I got caught up with some paperwork, and by the time I’d remembered, it was about fiveminutes ago.’ He shook his head. ‘I genuinely didn’t mean to frighten you. Please don’t think I’m some kind of weird stalker who does this to all his guests!’
Rory, who was still shaking, leaned back against the kitchen cupboards. She didn’t know if she’d have rather found a burglar. But, used to thinking on the hop from years in the classroom, she drew a deep breath, let it out, and then put on her best, reassuring smile.
