Ellie gave generously, and Megan paid her back as best she could. Their arrangement, Ellie had insisted, must be a secret. No one else in the family knew she owned the property. No one would find out, Megan assured her.

 

If there was one thing Ellie in life could rely on, it was her sister’s discretion.

The cottage was on the edge of Upper Nestling, on a bridle way that led out between Big Wood and Little Wood, and then along to Big Wood Farm.

 

Distinguishing between Big Wood and Little Wood was easy. Big Wood was bigger and boasted larger trees than its neighbour. The cottage was remote, and Megan wondered at first what had possessed her sister to buy it. ‘I didn’t buy it,’ she confessed. ‘I inherited it.’

 

Her journey home from Ellie’s party had not been uneventful. Polly and Gideon had insisted they take her to the cottage. Polly drove because she’d not had a drink, but Megan and Gideon were, in Polly’s words, a ‘little merry to say the least.’

 

Gideon was sitting, almost crouching, in the front passenger seat of the small, two-door car. He could barely fit and was acting as a night vision for his rather nervous and poor-sighted wife.

 

Megan, having crawled over the folded passenger seat to the back, found herself slumped at an uncomfortable angle for most of the journey. Her skirt had travelled up round her thighs as she climbed in, and her blouse was out of her waistband. Also, two more buttons than usual had opened at the front.

 

She looked, Polly reflected in the rear-view mirror, as though she had a bawdy part in a St Trinian’s film.

 

When they were at the end of the lane leading to the cottage, Megan, having done little to readjust her clothing, tried to shuffle out legs first. She slid on her bottom as Gideon, doing his best to keep some composure in front of his wife, did his best to pull her free.

 

Eventually Megan could stand, a feat she couldn’t have completed without Gideon’s help. ‘For goodness’ sake, Gideon,’ Polly said firmly and, Gideon thought, a little angrily, ‘help the poor woman up the path to her door and make sure a light’s on before you leave her. I don’t want her falling around in the dark. And don’t take long. I don’t want to sit here in the dark on my own either.’

 

Gideon held Megan and together they stumbled along the dark path towards Megan’s gate. It was all Gideon could do to stop Megan from falling to the ground as she tottered along in high heels. Halfway to the gate, she stopped and kicked off the shoes, launching each one into the dark undergrowth. ‘I’ll find them in the morning.’ She grinned.

 

Gideon said nothing. He was concentrating on the challenge set by Polly. Get Megan to the door, make sure there’s a light on, and be quick. At last, they reached the cottage, and Megan fumbled in her bag for the key. After a couple of attempts to get the key into the lock, she finally opened the door.

‘Thanks, Gids. You’re a star, that’s what you are?’

 

‘Will you be all right? I don’t mean to hurry you, but Polly will fret.’

‘I’m OK, I’ll be fine.’ She stood on tiptoes as she pulled him downward and kissed his cheek. ‘But I wish you could stay.’

 

Gideon stepped back slightly. ‘Goodnight Megan. Take care.’ And with that he turned and left, leaving Megan to slowly and unsteadily, make her way upstairs. She lurched across the landing and into her bedroom.

 

She fumbled for the light switch before collapsing onto the edge of the bed. It was then she realised she’d kissed the Vicar while standing with her the hem of her skirt around her waist and one of her boobs escaping from her blouse.

She fell back onto the bed. ‘Naughty girl,’ she said to herself as she drifted off.

 

Now, some 12 hours later, Megan scrolled through her list of contacts. She pressed the one marked Vicarage. Polly answered. ‘The Vicarage. Good morning.’

 

‘Hello Polly, it’s Megan.’ She was a little hesitant and her voice a little shaky. She wasn’t sure what to expect.

 

‘Oh, hello Megan. How are you?’ Polly’s tone was pleasant, even upbeat.

‘Me? Well, I suppose I’m fine. I was ringing to see how Gideon was. I’m afraid I encouraged him to drink a little more than was good for both of us last night and I seem to remember he had a bit of a struggle with me.’

 

Polly laughed. ‘Oh, well, it was just one of those things.’

‘All rather silly, really, and I’m not happy with myself,’ continued Megan.

‘Don’t worry, my dear. It was good to see Ellie last night, and we all did our best to enjoy things, didn’t we?’

 

‘Err, yes, we did. But again, I’m so sorry.’

‘No more apologies. You’ll both have to come for coffee and cakes. I must ring Ellie and arrange a date.’

They said their goodbyes, and the call ended. Megan picked up her mug of coffee, sipping it as she stared out the window across the garden towards Little Wood. Polly was always so pleasant with her, as though there had been nothing between her and Gideon. Sometimes Megan felt guilty; she still looked at Gideon a little too lustily for it to go unnoticed.

 

She heard a knock at the back door. ‘Only me,’ shouted a man’s voice as the door swung open.

Megan’s latest lover, Lawless, stood in the kitchen. ‘Hi, are you OK? Have a good time last night? How’s Ellie?’

 

Megan turned to face him. ‘Do you mind? I’m not at my best and that was way too many questions at once.’

 

‘Oh, sorry.’ Lawless looked at her and smiled.

Megan sighed. ‘I’ll try to answer your questions, but I’m a little hung over. The party was – and I quote Ellie here – the worst fucking experience you can have on a birthday. And as for Ellie… well, she’s fine and seems to be, rather perversely, enjoying plotting everyone’s downfall.’

 

Lawless was a little taken aback. ‘Everyone’s?’

Megan sipped her coffee. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘there are exemptions I understand, and I’m sure we’re safe. You and me, for a start, and I’m sure Polly and Gideon are on the safe list as well. At least, I think they are. Perhaps a few others. Only she knows how long the hit list is.’ Megan shrugged. ‘I don’t know who is and who isn’t, but I don’t get good vibes about many people.’

‘Oh.’ was all Lawless offered.

 

‘Tell me, why are you here?’ Megan looked as excited as her condition would allow. ‘Is it to fix my car or help me paint the bedroom or chop me some logs?’

 

Lawless cocked his head to one side. ‘I think you’re taking the whatsit.’

Megan put her hands to her cheeks and feigned surprise. ‘Perhaps it’s all three. Especially since you’ve been promising for weeks.’ She moved toward him and put her hands on his shoulders. ‘Please don’t let me down. We could start now with the logs.’

 

Lawless was wondering if he could invent a meeting or a personal emergency. He blurted: ‘I can’t. I must see a doctor about some work on his surgery and he’s offered to check me over.’

 

‘Bollocks,’ exclaimed Megan. ‘That’s pure made-up bollocks.’

‘Perhaps,’ Lawless said softly. ‘But it wasn’t a premeditated lie. I just panicked.’

‘Well, don’t.’

 

‘But it’s my natural defence mechanism, a basic instinct of human nature.’

‘Lying is not a basic instinct,’ Megan responded.

‘No, but panic is.’ Lawless sounded confident.

 

Ellie’s day went little better. The new house with a building site for a garden was in a village a few miles out of town in the opposite direction of Upper and Lower Nestling. Ellie and Tom travelled together in his aging but, Ellie noted, exceptionally tidy four-by-four.

 

‘I think I might like something like this when I change my car,’ she commented on the journey. ‘Mine’s too small and practical - it’s uninteresting, it has no speed, no danger. In fact, it resembles my life.’

 

‘Oh dear,’ said Tom, glancing across at her. ‘That sounds a little depressing. I doubt your life has ever been like that. There must have been good times with exciting moments.’

 

‘Not for a long time. I don’t recall any moments,’ Ellie quickly responded. ‘But I’ll give it some thought and get back to you.’ They fell into silence again as Tom weaved his way among the parked cars along the village high street.

 

‘Should be just along here, somewhere on the right. It’s called The Paddocks. There, that’s it,’ he said as he pulled into the side of the road, parking just outside the gate. He looked at the house, a large and very contemporary building, with a block paved driveway, a parking area and a small grassed area with a single shrub planted in the centre.

 

‘I don’t think many horses would recognise this as a paddock,’ he mumbled as he looked out of the car window. He turned to Ellie. ‘All very pretentious, this house naming malarkey, don’t you think? A simple number would suffice if there’s no practical or historical reason for naming a house.’

 

‘I don’t suppose 15a High Street works too well in some circles,’ replied Ellie. ‘I think I might name my house. How about Home Alone? or Thank God They’ve All Gone? Or even The Dead Doorbell.’

 

Tom laughed and then looked at her. ‘I really think, Lady Stunning, that you need an excellent cheer-up evening, with fine wine and a good laugh. How about it? Shall we try it and see if it works?’

 

Ellie reached for the door handle as she turned to look at Tom. ‘I think, Sir Gardener, that’s an excellent idea. But first, we must sell your services. Shall we?’ she said as she opened her door and got out. They walked up to the door, Ellie hanging back slightly. A few seconds after Tom rang the bell, a woman of around fifty opened the door. She wore a low-cut tee shirt and an extremely short skirt.

 

‘Hiya,’ she chirped. ‘You Tom? Come in, come in.’ As Tom moved forward, she spotted Ellie over his shoulder. ‘Oh, there’s two of you is there. OK.’

Ellie stared at her, simply because of the volume of fake tan and make-up that she’d applied to a relatively small surface area. She was also wearing the biggest false lashes Ellie had ever seen.

 

‘This is my colleague, Ellie,’ Tom responded. ‘She’s helping with the measuring. Do you want to take us to the back and show me what’s what?’

The woman looked momentarily flustered and glanced at Ellie, who was doing her best to look like a colleague rather than a coffee date.

 

The woman turned back to Tom. ‘Yeah, yeah. No probs. This way. We’ll go the through the kitchen.’ She led them across the large hallway to the kitchen, passing an open door through to what Ellie presumed was the lounge. She slowed her pace and stole a glance into the room. Her gaze wandered in the kitchen, which seemed to her way too big to be practical for anything less than a restaurant operation.

 

The woman opened the back door and led them outside, to an enormous expanse of dried earth, grey in the Winter gloom.

 

‘Good size,’ commented Tom, casting an experienced eye over the rectangular area bordered by a mix of beech and holly hedging on three sides. ‘Are there any features you had in mind, anything particular you wanted in the garden?’

 

‘Well, we were thinking about a patio, a barbecue area, perhaps a big lawn and small places to grow a few flowers.’

‘Small places?’

 

The woman shrugged. ‘Well, we don’t really do gardens, my fella and me. They’re just for sitting in really, I always think. Hard work, otherwise, aren’t they? It was my ex that got this place, but we didn’t last long enough for him to get it done. Now he’s done a runner and so I’m lumbered with it. My fella’s not around just now, but he’ll be back soon. Can’t do without me, really.’

 

The woman contorted her face into a contrived smile. ‘And anyway,’ she continued, ‘if I want to get the best price if I sell, I’ll need a garden, but one that’s dead easy to do. People don’t like to buy hard work, do they?’

 

She paused as if looking for confirmation she was right. ‘Shall I leave you to it? I’ll just pop inside and wait till you’re done, shall I?’ And without waiting for a reply, she cast a look towards Ellie, turned and hurried back inside. Throughout the brief conversation, Ellie harboured a niggling feeling that she knew this woman or at least knew of her.

 

Tom glanced at Ellie. ‘We’ll start at the bottom and work back.’ They walked across the hard ground, the hedge at the bottom of the garden. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘take this end.’ He offered Ellie the end of the tape measure, which she took firmly between her fingers. She stared at her hand, lost in a whirl of confused thoughts about the house, the woman, her meeting with Tom.

 

She appeared flustered and even a little confused. ‘You OK Ellie? Is everything alright? You don’t feel unwell, do you?’

She looked up at him. ‘Oh, fine, fine. Sorry, what do you want me to do?’ She seemed to come around. ‘I think the cold has got to me.’

 

‘Let’s get a move on and get done, then. Don’t want you uncomfortable in the cold, do we?’

 

Tom directed her while they took measurements, which he wrote in his notebook, occasionally looking around him and then making additional jottings and rough sketches. Ellie tried to concentrate, but it was obvious to Tom that something was troubling her. He moved closer to her and said softly: ‘As they say on the film set, that’s a wrap. Thanks for your help.’ He kissed her lightly on her forehead.

 

She was a little taken aback by the show of affection. ‘Oh, no trouble. My pleasure,’ said Ellie, looking at the ground as she idly kicked a pebble.

‘Shall we go?’ he asked.

 

He led the way back in and found the woman in the kitchen. She looked up as they walked in, and Ellie closed the back door behind her. She pressed up behind Tom, urgent to get out of the house but thankful for the warmth that greeted them inside. ‘Got all you need?’ asked the woman.

 

‘Yes, thanks. I’ll do some thinking and list a few suggestions and then email them to you. Can you scribble an email address please?’ he asked, putting his notebook and pen down on the table in front of her. ‘And a phone number, please.’ She wrote quickly.

 

‘Thanks for asking us along today. Been nice meeting you and hope we can do business.’

‘Yeah, great. Look forward to seeing what you think is best. And how much!’ She laughed nervously.

 

She led them back through the hall and opened the door, standing aside to let them pass. They stepped outside.

‘Bye,’ she said as the door closed behind them.

 

Back in the car, Tom turned to Ellie. After a moment he asked: ‘Is there something wrong? Have I misbehaved in any way? Said something I shouldn’t have said?’

 

Ellie looked up quickly. ‘Oh no Tom. Nothing. Believe me. It’s not you.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Tom, what did you say her name was?’

‘I don’t think I did,’ he replied and then flicked open his notebook. ‘But it’s Armitage. Christine Armitage.’ Ellie froze, a cold rush of anxiety swept through her. She heard Tom asked: ‘Ringing any bells?’

 

She looked at him. ‘Alarms Tom, not just bells.’ She caught her breath and tried to compose herself. ‘That,’ she said nodding towards the house, ‘is Mrs No Knickers.’

 

Tom looked bemused. ‘Who? Mrs who?’

‘She’s the reason I kicked Him out.’

‘Oh fuck,’ he whispered.

 

‘Yes, most likely, I’d say,’ said Ellie as she strode towards his car.

They drove back to town in silence. Ellie was calm. She struggled to come to terms with the afternoon’s coincidence. She’d come to terms with her husband and the children. And with the fact she was now on her own. But that Mrs No Knickers was very real and a potential client for Tom was disconcerting.

 

As Tom pulled into the car park and pulled up near her car, he asked: ‘Sometimes silence is good. Are you feeling a little better now if you can feel better under the circumstances?’

 

Ellie looked at him and smiled. ‘Yes, Sir Gardener, I’m OK,’ she mumbled.

‘I wouldn’t have put you through that if I’d known. How could I? But I still feel bad. And I’m sorry I swore that way.’

‘Good.’

‘Pardon?’

 

‘Good,’ repeated Ellie. She fought back the urge to laugh at the shocked expression on his face. ‘Because the worse you feel about the hell you put me through, the more you’ll probably spoil me this evening. And the word you used was appropriate on so many levels.’

 

‘Ha, ha! A cunning plan! Brilliant, brilliant young Lady Stunning.’ They smiled at each. ‘What time can I start?’

‘Up to you. What time’s convenient?’

 

‘I must go back to the office for an hour, then go home, shower, shave, dress, do my hair and make-up, take ages over it, and then decide to change again. How about you?’

 

‘Oh, I won’t bother shaving,’ said Ellie. ‘Just brush my hair and grab the first clean dress I can see. Say about seven?’ She took a notebook and pen from her handbag. Scribbling on the pad, she said: ‘Here’s my address and phone number. The last time I gave out such details to a man was decades ago, so don’t lose them. It’ll be a long wait till the next time.’

 

Tom reached out and took the piece of paper. ‘Thanks. Seven it is. Looking forward to it already.’

Ellie opened the door, got out, and turned to face Tom. ‘Did you find her attractive?’

 

‘Oh God, Ellie. Why even ask? She was dreadful. All that make-up and those eyelashes, like bloody ski jumps. No, thank you.’

‘Not your type, then.’

 

‘Certainly not,’ said Tom, throwing his head back in mock indignation. ‘And frankly, I’m rather disappointed you should even think that way.’ He raised his chin and turned his head away from her in mock indignation.

‘So, what is?’

 

‘What? Oh, my type. None of your business,’ he responded, turning back to face her. ‘But if you must know, I’m seeing an excellent example of it this evening. Now, madam, be gone with you. I’ll take no more of your insults.’ He waved his hand as if he was dismissing her. Ellie closed the door and waved, beaming, as he drove away.

In fact, she smiled all the way home, right until she pressed play on the telephone’s message box.

 

‘Hi mum, it’s me. Just checking everything’s OK. I know you get a bit upset…’ Ellie pressed delete.

 

‘Hi mother, it’s Michael. Can you ring me, please? I think we need to discuss last night. Your attitude…’ she deleted Michael as well.

 

She moved the phone away from her ear and stared at it.

It took two glasses of wine, a shower, another glass of wine and half a bar of chocolate to calm down. Calming down was so much more enjoyable, she thought, than getting upset.

 

As she enjoyed the chocolate, a plan was forming in her mind. Her telephone interrupted her thoughts. It was Tom. She glanced at the clock as she pressed the green button. 6.45 pm. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi Ellie, I’m just leaving now. Got a little delayed - I had to make a call.’

Ellie panicked. ‘A call?’

 

‘Yes, to that woman.’

‘Woman. Oh, you mean her, Mrs No Knickers?’

‘That very person. I couldn’t speak to her – I presume she wasn’t there, but I left a message; told her I could not take on her project.’

There was a momentary silence.

 

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means that I’m taking you for dinner and I’m not jeopardising us for her money. Or his money.’

Ellie reflected for a few seconds.

‘Still there Ellie? Are you OK?’

 

‘Still here Sir Gardener. Just thinking. Actually, that would be my money, not his. You’d probably be getting my money for doing her garden.’

‘Oh. Sorry, didn’t realise. But that makes it even more important. And I’m nearly at your place.’

 

Ellie put down the phone and realised that she’d had one too many glasses of wine and far too much chocolate. Unsteadily, she got to her feet and headed for the kitchen for a large glass of water. It was already dark, and she stared at her reflection in the window. She sipped her water and stood staring until, somewhere in the background, she heard the doorbell. ‘Rescued,’ she murmured.