Page 26 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

‘Nonsense, Captain Bradbury, the pub won’t know what’s hit it when the Boomerville Brains turn up.’ She slapped Bill on the back and almost sent him flying. ‘I’ll ask chef to arrange an early dinner.’

Hattie picked up her glass and straightened a cushion and before Bill had time to further his argument, she glided out of the room.

* * *

Melissa wasout on the fells. She’d taken a route recommended by Hattie that led out of the meadow at the end of the garden and, walking briskly, she kept to the well-trodden path. Bunty ambled alongside while Teddy darted ahead. Bunty was familiar with the territory and Melissa felt safe with her furry companion, who stayed close - as if sensing apprehension around this lady who’d taken it upon herself to exercise with the dogs. Teddy sprang forward. In constant motion, he ran, wriggled and jumped and Melissa smiled as she watched the puppy discover the joys of the countryside. Occasionally, Bunty nuzzled Teddy and gave him a shove, if he showed too much interest in a stagnant pool or the remains of a dead bird. The older dog’s mothering instincts amused Melissa and she realised that their antics made her walk more pleasurable.

Melissa was beginning to relax.

She’d been at Boomerville for several days and, so far, there’d been no word from Malcolm. Was it possible that he couldn’t trace her or even that he no longer wanted to? Perhaps he was thankful that she’d left their loveless relationship. Melissa prayed that this was the case – it would mean she could decide what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. She’d managed to squirrel away money during her marriage but knew that it wouldn’t last long. Kept in a metal box, hidden in the garage, the contents were now in a safe at Boomerville, together with pieces of expensive jewellery that Malcolm had bought for her. She didn’t want to keep the watches, bracelets and earrings and would sell them as soon as she got a chance.

The spring sun was warm on Melissa’s face and she thought of the daffodils that would be flowering at Pendelton House. The garden was lovely at this time of year, trees heavy with blossom, crocuses and wallflowers blooming bright in the borders. But as she stared at the meadow where dandelions sprouted gold amongst the green, Melissa didn’t miss her former home. She felt safe at Boomerville, where Hattie had wrapped a protective arm around her.

Hattie hadn’t asked any probing questions but had given Melissa a mobile phone.

‘It’s a pay-as-you-go and not registered.’

Melissa had used it to call Patrick. He was relieved to hear from his mother and even more pleased to learn that she’d left Malcolm. Happy that she was safe, he didn’t ask where she was but told her to let him know when she was settled.

As she walked, Melissa thought about her son. Patrick was the result of a brief romance when Melissa was a young singer on a Mediterranean cruise, and although her pregnancy was shameful at the time, her parents had stepped in to help and raised Patrick when Melissa was working away.

She wandered alongside a patch of bluebells, and wondered when she would see him again, for Patrick was the only family she had. Her parents were long gone, Mum from cancer and Dad, having never recovered from the death of his wife, had a sudden heart attack and his friends were convinced that he’d died of a broken heart.

Teddy was yapping. He’d found a stick and teased Bunty. The older dog gripped one end and Teddy the other and the puppy spun into air. Melissa watched as the dogs danced around, tails thumping as they pounced and played. She began to laugh and as sunshine broke through a cloud and flowed over the fells, Melissa had a strange sensation.

It was joy. A long forgotten feeling. With tears in her eyes she tried to remember the last time she’d laughed or felt this way. Could something so simple as a walk with a dog make her feel so good?

Whatever was happening, Boomerville was weaving its spell. With a flutter of excitement, she wondered if it was time to join a class or go on an outing. She called to the dogs and as they turned to retrace their steps, Melissa made up her mind. She’d take a class that would enable her to learn a new skill. Something that would be useful in the future.

Picking up a stick and tossing it, she smiled as she watched the dogs chase ahead. She couldn’t wait to get back and find the list of classes that Hattie had left in her room.

* * *

In the conservatory,Bill held half a pint of locally-brewed beer. He sipped the syrupy liquid and wiped a layer of froth from his top lip.

Drinking now and being idle? What’s to become of you, Bill Bradbury?

Bill scowled. His mother had never approved of alcohol in the house but Bill knew that his father had a secret stash of whisky in his flower pots in the courtyard. When the geraniums were watered, the old man made sure that he was replenished too. Bill was in a foul mood and the daytime drink felt rebellious. He was surrounded by women who constantly told him what to do. From that bossy manager who’d made him captain of a quiz team, to the artist who’d insisted he join her art class.

Bill closed his eyes. His experience in the art class would haunt him for days.

No one had told him that it was a life class and that the students would be subjected to such a disgusting experience. The woman that had lain prostrate across a chaise, completely naked, had caused Bill to drop his pencil, sending his drawing pad flying. He’d spluttered an excuse and with cheeks burning with shame, had fled from the room. He was sure that the other students sniggered as he grabbed his jacket and slammed the door.

Lucinda hadn’t muttered a word.

She’d merely watched, her eyes amused as Bill took flight.

A man-hating lesbian! She’s made a fool of you!

Bill wondered what the hell he was doing at Boomerville. This was supposed to be a holiday but so far, he’d spent most of the time in fear of what might happen next.

The conservatory door was open and as Bill reached for his drink, a gentle breeze ruffled the pages of a newspaper nearby. Outside, bright sunshine highlighted a herbaceous border, a riot of colour beneath the garden wall. Bill sipped his pint and watched a collie dog run alongside a man, who moved backwards and forwards behind a mower as he cut the lawn, his pace steady, creating neat stripes in the lush grass.

Voices could be heard and Bill looked up to see a group of women, clutching towels and bags as they came into view on the pathway.

Bill was tempted to bolt. The last thing he needed was the Boomerville Babes, fresh from a session in the pool, adding to his misery. He finished his drink and stood up to leave but the women had veered off the path to disappear through the courtyard gates, away from the hotel.

‘Nice back tuck, Audrey!’ one of the women called out.

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