Page 4 of An Ill Wind in Seabury
George shook his head as he wound his way up the hill out of Seabury. Poor old Charlie, having to deal with that car right across the allotment entrance! What on earth did the driver think they were doing, leaving it there?
‘It’s not your problem!’ he muttered, taking a deep breath and doing his best to let his shoulders relax. For some reason, he suddenly felt out of sorts, and it didn’t suit him.
Forcing a massive, fake smile onto his face, George glanced in the rear-view mirror… and promptly burst out laughing.What an idiot!He could only imagine what someone would think if they spotted his mad Cheshire cat smile. They’d probably call Doris to warn her that he’d clearly cracked mid-round!
Still, it had done the trick. The strange dark cloud had disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.
‘Right, next stop, Hillside Farm!’ he murmured, carefully navigating the tricky junction at the top of the road, before indicating to trundle straight back down a narrow, rutted farm track.
Hillside Farm was owned by Bill Morris and his daughter Jess. It was a sprawling place that covered the entire hillside, with the most incredible views out over the sea. On a clear daylike today, you could see for miles across the patchwork of fields and hedgerows, all the way back down past the allotments to the town.
The farmhouse itself was looking a bit tired these days. The bones of it were still lovely—all old stone and windows with sea views—but the paintwork was peeling, the stonework in desperate need of repointing, and a general air of disrepair hung over the place like a cloud.
It wasn’t just the farmhouse that needed a bit of TLC, either. One of the barns had a tarp stretched across part of the roof where a couple of tin sheets had been lost to winter storms years ago. The old cattle shed was practically submerged under a sea of brambles and nettles, and there were bits of ancient machinery dotted about the place, slowly rusting away in the long grass. Several of the massive old trees dotted around the yard had lost limbs, and a couple of them looked like they needed some serious attention before they blew over completely.
Even so, there was something rather lovely about Hillside. It might be a bit rundown, but it had plenty of character… just like its owners. Bill and Jess didn’t show their faces in town very often, but their presence was everywhere. Bill could always be relied on to turn up in his tractor the minute anyone needed a helping hand, and most of Seabury’s endless supply of glorious cakes featured fresh eggs from Jess’s hens.
George had always liked the easy-going farmer’s daughter, and in recent years, they’d become firm friends. Both Doris and Ethel had spent a considerable amount of time and energy trying to matchmake the pair of them… simply based on the fact that they were both single. In the end, George had relented and asked Jess out for a drink in an attempt to get the well-meaning busybodies off their backs.
They’d had a fun night at the pub over in Dunscombe. They’d played darts, and Jess had told him all about her worries that herdad would end up selling Hillside Farm… but that had been the extent of the evening. They were nothing more than good mates, and never would be.
Jess was pretty, smiley, sunny… but the idea of kissing her?Nope. It would be like kissing his sister! Luckily, when he’d come clean, the look of relief on Jess’s face had been priceless. They’d both had a good laugh about their friends’ disastrous matchmaking attempt, and then promptly ordered another round.
The reality was, George really did love his life just as it was. Sure, there were times when it would be nice to spend his evenings with someone rather than rattling around in an empty house. In fact, he’dloveto find his “other half”—someone to share all those moments that were too mundane and precious to ever tell his friends about. But at the same time, he didn’t want his life to change. It might be small, but to him, it was perfect.
Well… almost…
With a little shake of his head, George slowly pulled into the yard, mindful of the chilled-out chickens that swirled and scattered like paper bags at the sight of the van. The problem was, they were such contented birds that they never went very far before making a u-turn to come and check out the new arrival… just in case there was a handful of corn on offer.
‘Clear off, you naughty birds!’ he laughed as he stepped out of the van only for a trio of hens to crowd around his feet. One of them started eyeing the ends of his shoelaces hungrily.
‘They’ve been fed… honestly!’ came a laughing voice from the direction of the farmhouse.
George turned to find Jess beaming at him as she waded through the sea of chickens.
‘I don’t doubt it,’ he chuckled. ‘Probably not just boring old corn, either?’
Jess looked sheepish. ‘Okay, so there might have been some treats from the kitchen too, but I’ve got to feed my girls up. Can’t have them wasting away, can I?’
‘Not much chance of that!’ said George, shuffling his feet as the largest of the big brown birds launched an attack on his laces.
‘Swap that post for some eggs?’ said Jess, nodding at the sheaf of envelopes in his hands.
‘You know you don’t have to pay me for your mail, right?’ said George, following her towards the farmhouse, nonetheless. There was no way he was going to turn down a box of Jess’s finest, with their lovely brown shells and huge, golden yolks.
‘I know, said Jess. ‘Shame for you to drive away empty-handed, though.’ She grabbed a box from inside the porch and handed it over. ‘So… any news?’
‘All quiet on the western front,’ said George with a little shrug. ‘Unless you count the idiot who’s parked right across the entrance of the allotments and wandered off? Charlie’s as close to cross as he gets!’
‘Is it a big black shiny thing?’ said Jess, throwing her rope of flaxen hair over her shoulder. ‘Built like a tank, but probably more expensive?’
George raised an eyebrow. ‘How d’you know that?’
‘Because she turned up in the yard earlier,’ said Jess. ‘She was obviously looking for somewhere… or someone, but she took one look at me and for some reason she decided not to stay.’
‘Fancy that!’ chuckled George.
Jess was one of the most sunny and easy-going people he knew. The almost permanent smile on her pretty face might lull some people into thinking she was a pushover, but George knew better. Jess was a tough cookie. After all, she farmed Hillside with her dad. The pair were close, but Bill was a stubborn old git when he wanted to be, and Jess knew exactly how to hold herown. She had a core of steel beneath the flyaway hair and cute freckles.
