Page 56 of Dr. CEO (The Doctors)

“I’m sorry, Granny. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

“It’s okay. I know it’s a prickly subject.”

“It’s not really prickly. I just don’t need therapy.”

“Well if you say you don’t need it, that’s that. But it’s an option if you decide the world outside Crompton is one you want to get to know.”

“You’re acting like I never leave the grounds! I still have four shifts at the pub every week.”

Her expression is of pity, but she’s misunderstood me. I’m happy. I don’t need her pity.

“And soon I’ll be moving behind the car park in the village. I’ll be at least three miles away from Crompton.”

“If you say so, darling. But if money is an issue, I’d be happy to pay for you to have a chat with someone. You had a lot to cope with as a child and no one can judge you for the choices you made.”

“I chose to make myself happy,” I say simply. We don’t often talk about or even allude to life before my mother died. Or if we do, we focus on the happy times when I was at Crompton. But life outside the estate with my mother wasn’t often happy. It was stressful and tense. I remember coming to Crompton and being relieved to find it was the exact opposite. I used to leave notes under my pillow to the fairies, asking them to let me stay forever.

And then my mum died and I did stay.

Adult-me knows I didn’t cause my mum’s death, but for a long time I carried the guilt of thinking that by wanting to stay with Granny so much, I willed Mum dead. I know better than to wish for a life different from the one I have now—one where everything and everyone in my orbit is familiar. Or it was.

Until Vincent.

Now I want him. But he won’t stay. I have to push thoughts away of any other scenario, because he will leave.

And I will stay.

I can’t wish him here.

I won’t.

But one of the things I can take comfort from is, whether or not Vincent is here, the leaves on the trees of the estate—none of which Vincent is cutting down—will turn yellow, then orange and red in the autumn before falling. They’ll bud and grow again next spring. I might not be working at the tea shop. I might not be living on the estate, but I will be here, every day, welcoming people to Crompton and watching the trees change as the seasons pass.

My grandmother stands and moves toward the kettle. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

The question is a perfect palate cleanser. “Yes, please. I bought some green and popped it in your cupboard. The studies are saying the antioxidant benefits are incredible, plus it can protect the brain against Alzheimer’s.”

“Really?” Granny says. “I’ll give it a try. Maybe I can swap out at least one cup of my builders with green.”

Joy blooms in my heart and I stand. “That’s great. I’m so happy you’ll try it. Let me make it.”

“We can do it together, and you can tell me all about how you ended up saying yes to dinner with Vincent Cove.” She wraps her arm around my waist. “I’m sorry if I skipped over that bit.”

“It’s okay, Granny. And I want to assure you, you don’t have anything to worry about. You gave me such a wonderful childhood in this magical place. I just love it.”

“I know you do. But you can love more than one place. Just like I don’t have to give up my normal tea, just because I’m trying green tea. I’m open to the idea that I might like green tea even better.”

I get what she’s saying. Maybe it would be nice if we went to dinner somewhere other than the pub. Somewhere a little more private, where absolutely everyone didn’t know everything about me, even if it does require a car ride to get there. One evening can’t hurt, can it? The problem is, it’s easier said than done. Logically she’s right. The problem is, logic doesn’t override fear.

Granny tugs me around the waist and gives me a kiss on my temple. “And what about Vincent? Does he think Crompton’s magic?”

I laugh. “He thinks it’s a good business opportunity. But you never know, I might convince him of the magic at some point.”

“Has he ever been married?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so, but we haven’t discussed it.” We’ve spent a lot of time in each other’s presence. And we’ve had sex. But we haven’t shared much about our pasts. In some ways, it’s a relief. “I suppose that’s what dinner is about. Getting to know each other. It’s nothing serious, though, don’t worry. I’m not about to get my heart broken.”

“Oh I don’t worry about that,” she replies. “In fact, it might do you good. You’re stronger than you think, you know.”

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