Page 19 of The Beekeeper's Cottage
Grace hadn’t imagined for one moment that she would sleep but, to her amazement, she had drifted off almost immediately and woken feeling a little stiff but otherwise none the worse for wear.
Her soothing bath and good book had undoubtedly helped, but more than that was the feeling of utmost peace which had stolen over her as she had stood at her bedroom window for a few moments before climbing into bed. The garden lay shrouded in shadow, but it wasn’t at all threatening, more the caress of a light blanket. She had climbed beneath her own covers with thoughts of her garden sleeping peacefully through the night beside her.
Now, the mid-morning light was harsh by comparison, but it was energising too; the bees had been up and about for hours. Several had already buzzed around her cup of tea before going on their way and something about them brought Amos to mind. She smiled at the thought of his offer the night before.
She picked up her mug from the table beside her on the patio and swallowed the last of its contents. It was hard to decide exactly what she thought about Amos. On the one hand, she felt as if she had known him for most of her life. He was kind, considerate and had an uncanny ability to see exactly what she was thinking. She had never met anyone who seemed so in tune with his surroundings before. But on the other hand, there was something about him that seemed… dangerous. Not in the traditional sense, but that he was more than capable of pushing her far outside her comfort zone. If she let him, that was.
Walking into the kitchen, she put down her mug beside the sink and was about to go upstairs to collect some washing when there was an unexpected ring of the front doorbell. Still deep in thought, she opened it without thinking, and was shocked to see who was standing on the other side.
‘Dominic!’
The tall figure stepped forward, his arms full of flowers.
‘Grace, it’s so lovely to see you.’ He kissed both of her cheeks, oblivious to any damage the blooms might incur as they sandwiched between them.
‘I do hope you bought those at the farm next door,’ she said, opening the door wider.
His brow creased in confusion. No, of course he hadn’t. Don’t be silly, Grace, his secretary had bought them.
‘Our neighbours have opened a flower farm,’ she explained, stepping backwards as Dominic’s spicy aftershave enveloped her. Some things never changed.
She smiled as she took the bouquet from him. ‘These are beautiful though, thank you. Come in.’
She led the way down the wide hallway to the kitchen.
‘I must say you’re the last person I expected to see,’ she said, opening a cupboard to take down a vase. She turned around to look at her husband’s boss, assessing what damage the last few years had done to him. But he looked to have hardly changed at all since she had last seen him. Still impossibly handsome. Slender-hipped, broad-shouldered, tall, and with floppy dark hair shot through with grey, Dominic struck an imposing presence in her kitchen. His sharp suit was softened by his relaxed pose and his round tortoiseshell glasses which gave him a rather owlish appearance; one he certainly knew how to use to maximum effect. He did it now, peering at her in that innocent way of his that had all the women queuing up to mother him.
‘Grace… how could I not?’ He fished inside the inner pocket of his suit jacket, drawing out a sheet of paper. ‘I came as soon as I got this.’
Straight down to business then.
‘I’m so sorry. I had no idea that things had got so bad.’
‘Would you like a coffee?’ she asked. ‘It’s a beautiful morning, we could sit outside if you like.’
He nodded and she reached for the cafetière, knowing Dominic wouldn’t tolerate instant. She busied herself running water into the vase, filling the kettle and spooning out the coffee, all the while aware that, behind her, Dominic would be watching.
‘It’s been a couple of years,’ he said, after a moment, coming to stand beside her. ‘And I don’t know how, but you’ve managed to make this place look even more gorgeous than before.’
He looked around at the lovely light airy space that was Grace’s kitchen. When she had first met Dominic, it had been two rooms, but now, opened up and with only a wall of glass separating it from the garden, it was a stylish but welcoming centre of the house.
‘Yes, well, over the years, as my husband’s interest in it has declined, I’ve been able to add a few things about the place that are more to my liking.’
Dominic gave her an amused smile. ‘Grace, let’s not kid ourselves, all that entertaining, the parties, the weekends away, the charity events you organised, we always knew that the creation of the seemingly effortless stage on which Paul could shine was down to you, all of it. Things don’t become as effortless as you made them seem without an awful lot of hard work.’
She nodded, but bit her tongue. She had no wish to score points. What was done was done and it was time to move on from that. She took a jug of milk from the fridge and placed it on a tray, which she began to load with everything else they would need. Dominic, she noticed, had crossed to the double doors at the far end of the room which opened out onto the patio.
He inhaled an exaggerated deep breath. ‘Ahhh… I always did love your garden, Grace. The house’s crowning glory, and still the same, I see. It has this air of… I don’t know… tranquillity? Serenity?’
She rolled her eyes behind his back.
There was silence for a moment.
‘Listen, Grace, what happened before, well I—’
‘You apologised before, Dominic, and I accepted your apology then, there’s no need to go over old ground.’ She really wished he wouldn’t, she had no desire to revisit that particular episode in her life.
‘No, quite. It’s just that… well, I wish we hadn’t parted on such bad terms.’
