Page 6 of The Beekeeper's Cottage
Amos slid him a sideways glance. ‘I’m older than I look,’ he said as evenly as he could. The dream was still all too fresh in his mind and hiding the truth was not always that easy. He and mortality had been very well acquainted for a number of years now. ‘Anyway, how are you doing?’ he asked, changing the subject. ‘Not that I know a great deal about it, but it seems to me that recovery from what you’ve been through doesn’t happen overnight.’
‘Aye, you’re right about that, and some days it feels as if this body of mine isn’t ever going to do what I want it to, but I’m getting there. And what Flora’s done for us, well it’s turned us right around. Never thought I could get that excited about flowers before, but it would seem I can…’ He trailed off, smiling. ‘Course I might feel differently once I’m properly back at it. I’m still on what the missus calls “light duties” at the moment, which means I don’t get my hands dirty. But there’s plenty still to be done.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Which I reckon is where you come into things… Funny, you just turning up like that…’ He cleared his throat. ‘I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or nothing, but not sure I totally understand it, all the same.’
Amos didn’t blame him. He’d probably be saying exactly the same things if he was in Fraser’s position. He looked out across the garden, knowing that the man deserved some sort of an explanation.
‘I had a regular life once,’ Amos began, carefully. ‘Same as most people. I went out to work, I paid my mortgage and my bills, went drinking with friends on the weekend. But then, like you, something just came along when I wasn’t looking and changed all that. And then it seemed like the life I had before didn’t belong to me any more… and it was time to find a new one. So, I left home. Rented my house out, and followed the sun, to see if I couldn’t find something that made a difference.’
‘Aye… and did you?’ asked Fraser, taking a swig from his mug.
Amos turned to look at him. ‘Yes,’ he said clearly. ‘I found plenty. It took a while, not surprisingly seeing as how I didn’t know what I was looking for in the first place. But then, I learnt to trust my instincts, to follow what I knew to be right, and after that, well the rest just seemed to take care of itself. I found a reason to keep going, Fraser, just like you have. It may not be the same as what other people have, but it works for me.’
Fraser upended his mug, draining out the dregs of his tea into the flower pot that stood beside him. ‘Sounds to me like there’s a bit more to it than that,’ he said. ‘But as long as you promise to look after what we have here, I reckon you’re entitled to keep that to yourself until you’re ready to tell us.’
‘You have my word,’ replied Amos, solemnly.
‘Fair enough then, lad.’ Fraser coughed slightly, pushing himself away from the wall. ‘Now then, Flora tells me you might be the man to fix up our cottage. And I can’t deny that wouldn’t be mighty useful.’ He squinted into the sun. ‘You’d best come with me. Have a spot of breakfast and then you can look at the plans, see what we have in mind. That sound any good?’
‘It sounds perfect,’ said Amos, smiling, as he followed Fraser into the house.
The kitchen was already humming in readiness for whatever the day might bring. Hannah was at the cooker, stirring a big pan of something, and Ned and Flora were already sitting at the table, a sheaf of papers spread out in front of them. The old dog gave a soft woof of greeting as Amos entered and slowly got to its feet.
‘Well, someone has definitely made a friend,’ remarked Flora. ‘Would you look at that, out-and-out favouritism…’
Brodie crossed the room to stand by Amos’s side, pushing his nose against Amos’s hand as he ruffled his fur.
‘Come and sit down,’ added Flora. ‘We’re just about to have breakfast.’
Hannah turned from the cooker. ‘Now, tell me, do you like porridge at all, Amos? Or there’s eggs, or beans, and plenty of toast. What would you like?’
Amos smiled; the table was already heaped with fruit, and what looked like a dish of yoghurt beside an almost full jar of honey. ‘Porridge would be perfect, thank you. I haven’t eaten it in years, but I always liked it as a child. Every morning without fail.’
‘It’s very good for you,’ said Hannah. ‘Just the thing to set you up for the day.’ She frowned slightly. ‘So long as you don’t smother it in cream and sugar, that is.’
Amos nodded towards the table. ‘I’m rather partial to honey, I’m afraid,’ he replied. ‘Might I be permitted a little of that?’
Hannah nodded. ‘Oh, we make allowances for honey.’ She smiled. ‘Under the circumstances it would be rather churlish to refuse a gift like that.’
Amos was about to ask her what she meant when he suddenly realised what she was referring to. ‘Ah, the bees,’ he said. ‘Yes, I guess you do rather depend on each other.’ He took a seat as Ned pushed a mug towards him.
‘Would you like some tea, Amos?’ he asked, gesturing at an enormous teapot. ‘Please help yourself if you would.’
Ned watched while he did so, waiting until he was settled before continuing.
‘Dad mentioned showing you the plans for the cottage this morning, cracking on and all that?’
Amos nodded politely. He was way ahead of Ned and wondered at what point he should speak himself; he didn’t want to appear rude. But then Flora smiled across at her husband, a reassuring gesture, and Amos realised that Ned was rather nervous of what he was about to say. People invariably were and Amos had learnt that it was best to be as open as possible, right from the start – it saved no end of embarrassment. If he wasn’t much mistaken, with Fraser’s heart attack and subsequent recovery, Ned had either been given or assumed the mantle of head of the house whether he’d wanted it or not. Amos had no desire to make the role any more difficult for him than it already was.
He added milk to his mug, before looking back up. ‘Yes, and I’d be very happy to help… once you’ve seen my references and are happy for me to go ahead.’ He monitored Ned’s expression, currently showing slight surprise. ‘I don’t think I’d be happy starting work before then. I mean, watering the plants is one thing, but working on a house is something else entirely. You need to be absolutely sure I know what I’m doing.’
Ned’s expression changed to one of alarm. ‘Oh, I didn’t mean. It’s not that we don’t—’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to trust me, Ned, you scarcely know me, and the circumstances of my arrival were unusual to say the least. So, I am neither offended nor embarrassed by your imminent request for information.’ He sat back in his chair, grinning. ‘In fact, I much prefer it this way.’
Ned’s shoulders dropped by several inches.
‘I appreciate your integrity, Amos,’ he said. ‘I wish everyone behaved that way.’
He exchanged a look with Flora that Amos noticed, but didn’t comment on, simply smiling instead and dipping his head slightly in acknowledgement.
