Page 12 of The Beekeeper's Cottage
‘Anyway, I’m sorry,’ they both chorused at the same time.
Grace spluttered. ‘Go on, you first,’ she said.
‘No, you…’
They laughed again. ‘What could you possibly be sorry about?’ asked Amos.
‘Just that I’ve made you go all the way over to my house which really wasn’t fair,’ said Grace, blushing. ‘I had no right to drop my problems in your lap and I—’
‘You didn’t make me,’ replied Amos, cutting in. ‘In fact, I should apologise. I more or less twisted your arm to stick my nose into your business when I had no right to do that either. It’s rather a habit of mine, I’m afraid.’
Grace studied him for a moment; his face was open and entirely honest. He was apologising, but she also got the sense that he had no intention of changing.
‘So, what did you find out then?’ she asked, teasing. ‘Come on, tell me what happened.’
It was meant to be a light-hearted remark, but her face suddenly fell as she caught sight of Amos’s sombre expression.
‘Someone turned up, didn’t they?’ She turned slightly so that he wouldn’t see the look in her eyes. She had tried to convince herself throughout the entire morning that Paul would never go ahead with the valuation, that he wouldn’t dare after what she had threatened him with, and she had just about succeeded. But now she could see the truth of the matter written large across Amos’s face. ‘Bastard,’ she muttered.
Amos held out a hand and nodded. ‘I’m sorry, Grace,’ he said. ‘It was a chap called Evan Porter, from a company called Porter and…’ He didn’t need to finish, she was already shaking her head.
‘Yes, I know of them.’
‘He said that your husband was concerned you would be upset by the prospect of selling the house and that he’d been asked to deal only with him. I was pretending to be your gardener, you see, and the agent asked me not to mention anything to you either, saying that your husband wanted to pick the right moment to tell you.’
Grace pressed her lips together, her heart beginning to thud uncomfortably in her chest.
Amos cocked his head to one side. ‘May I ask you a question?’
She nodded, just about managing to hold his look.
‘You said earlier that your husband… Paul… had arranged to have an agent visit when you couldn’t be there, and yet you weren’t absolutely sure that anyone was going to turn up. You clearly aren’t happy about the prospect of moving and – now that I’ve seen your house and its garden – I can see why. Forgive me for asking, Grace, but is everything okay?’
Grace opened her mouth to reply with a vague response about the length of time she had lived there and her fondness for the place, but instead, to her surprise, she burst into tears.
5
‘Grace?’
She glanced up a few minutes later, surprised to see Bill’s concerned face hovering anxiously on the other side of the counter. She had completely forgotten the time.
‘Is everything okay? Not bad news, I hope?’
Bill eyed Amos suspiciously as Grace gave her eyes one final wipe. She managed a weak smile, inhaling deeply.
‘Sorry, Bill, I didn’t mean to cry all over the place… Not bad news as such, just a bit of a shock, that’s all. It’s been quiet,’ she added, explaining. ‘I lost track of time…’
She rummaged under the counter for her handbag and, spotting it, pulled it out.
‘It’s time for me to go,’ she said, sniffing.
‘Oh, right,’ Amos replied, looking rather uncomfortable. She smiled at him and then glanced back at Bill.
‘This is my… friend, Amos. He was just…’
‘Yes, we met last night, when Amos arrived.’ Bill nodded. ‘Did you get sorted, up at the farm?’
‘I did, thank you. Flora and her husband have been great. So I’ll be staying for a while and helping them out.’
