Page 11 of Hearts Colliding
Alex rubbed his eyes as the silence pressed in on him. Throwing the bolt home, and turning the big old key to lock the door, he made up his bed on the sofa in the drawing room, pulling Henry in with him under the duvet, taking warmth and comfort in the little dog’s presence.
CHAPTERSEVEN
“Eh, what’s this.” Eva pulled Ryan to a stop by the noticeboard outside Beryl’s Baps ’n’ Buns, the village bakery.
Plastered across the flyers for Zumba with Mandy, the next meeting of the church flower committee, and the Young Farmers Annual Guess the Weight of the Piglet competition, was a stark notice.
“Ryan, what does is say? Can’t read beyondThis Might Affect You. What might affect me?” Eva peered hard, the bright yellow-green backcombed bouffant balancing on her head not moving an inch in the rising breeze. Vomit yellow, Ryan had muttered the day before when she’d returned from her regular appointment withHair by Doreen, otherwise known as Joss’ gran. Ryan’s mum had dug him hard in the ribs, but she’d fled the room when his nan asked what they thought of Lemon Soufflé, her new colour.
Ryan wasn’t surprised she couldn’t read the close crammed tiny print. “It’s an official notice, from the local council. Somebody probably wants to build a loft extension or a conservatory, or something.” He shrugged. Whatever it was probably wouldn’t affect them much, but he narrowed his eyes to read it anyway.
What the…?Disbelief and incredulity churned in his stomach. No, he’d got it wrong, he must have. He re-read the public notice, ignoring his nan’s badgering, anger rising in him because, no, he hadn’t got it wrongat all.
“Christ.” Ryan ran his hands down his face. He couldn’t believe it.
“Ryan, love, what’s wrong, what does it say?”
The note of panic in his nan’s voice was more than enough to pull him back, and he looked down into her worried face. Ryan sucked in a large breath, but before he could say anything, Beryl herself rushed out from the bakery.
“Eva, have you seen this?” Beryl jabbed a pudgy finger towards the notice. “It’s an application to build on the Love estate, and to convert the New House into apartments. But not only on the estate, but on the old Jenkins farm, too.”
“What? But the village was raising money to buy the farm, to lease it out as small holdings and allotments,” Eva said, her voice shaking. “Ryan, is that what it says?”
Ryan nodded and swallowed down the boulder lodged in his throat. “Yes, but it doesn’t give any detail. The plans can be viewed online.”
“I tried to have a look earlier.” Beryl wrung her hands together. “But I couldn’t get on, you know what the signal can be like around here. The notices are everywhere. On the lamp posts, on the notice board outside the village hall. It says everybody affected will get a letter. Have you got a letter, Eva? Because I haven’t.”
“Not had the post—”
“I can see it now,” Beryl cried. “Bulldozers, and drilling, huge lorries thundering through the village…” She pulled out a tissue and dabbed at her eyes.
“That’s not all it says,” Ryan said, finding his voice. “There’s also a proposal for retail outlets.”
“A shopping centre!” Beryl gasped. “One of those out of town places. They destroy communities, diverting all the trade away from independent businesses. It happens up and down the country, you see it on the news. Soon there’ll be empty shops and To Let signs everywhere.” Beryl looked at her bakery, and Ryan and his nan followed her gaze.
“It’ll kill the village,” Eva said, her voice quiet and unsteady.
Ryan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. The indomitable matriarch, the acknowledged head of the family who’d had their roots in the village for generations, had in the course of minutes become smaller, older, and fragile.
Dismay and anger churned in Ryan’s stomach, as his heart hardened. Fear and worry would be churning in the heart of everybody who called Love’s Harbour home as they digested the news and looked into an unknown and uncertain future. The village he loved, the place that was his home, would change out of all recognition. And it was all because ofhim.
Alex Love,SirAlex Love, newly returned to his ancestral home and bearing nothing other than a bulldozer.
* * *
Back at the pub, the post had arrived. Armed with cups of tea, and packets of biscuits, Ryan sat at the kitchen table with his nan and mum. The letter didn’t say much more than the notice outside Beryl’s Baps ’n’ Buns did, which as Beryl had said had been posted all over Love’s Harbour, drawing knots of worried villagers.
“It says that further details and the plans are available to look at online. We can also lodge any objections.” Lou ran a finger along the words at the bottom of the page.
“Why’s he doing this?” Eva stirred her tea, her third cup in less than an hour. “There’s always been a Love up at the house. Old Sir Anthony wasn’t there much in later years, and that was understandable I suppose, but it’s always been the home of the Love family. They founded the village. All that history, all that continuity, ripped up and thrown away.” She shook her head, and both Lou and Ryan rested their hands on hers.
“I’ll take a close look at the plans online,” Ryan said, “to get a better idea of what’s going on, and then we’ll submit our objections. We should talk to others, though, see what they think—”
Eva huffed. “I know exactly what most will think, and it won’t be very complimentary, I can tell you. This’ll wreck the village.” She hauled herself up. “Got to get the pub open. No doubt this will be today’s topic of conversation.”
“Mum, no. We’ll do it. You go and rest. Maybe have a doze, or watch some telly. It’s been a shock, so—”
“Perhaps I should wrap a tartan blanket over my knees, like some oldie?”
