Page 23 of Home This Christmas

EIGHTEEN

I’d been counting down the hours until I return to London, yet now it feels strange to be leaving Brindleford today. Even though I have only been here for a short while it feels like so much longer. Perhaps it’s the slower place of life. Fleetingly, I wonder if the weather will change again…

My mind drifts to Will as I cross the road towards the church to meet him. I spot him parking up and heading towards me.

‘Morning! So are you all packed and ready to head home?’ he asks brightly.

‘I am indeed.’

We take the path that I know so well along the side of the church and are soon on open farmland.

‘I’ve enjoyed spending time with you,’ Will says as we walk. ‘It’s a shame you won’t be here for much longer.’

He glances at me and smiles.

‘I have enjoyed spending time with you too.’ I return his compliment. ‘And I owe you dinner – you’ve cooked for me twice now.’

‘Strictly speaking, I was already cooking for other people, and I invited you along. Actually, that sounds bad. I would have loved to have cooked for you alone.’

‘You would?’

‘Of course I would. I would have got the candles out and everything.’ For a second, I can imagine myself in his beautiful house, being wined and dined by candlelight and wishing I didn’t have to head home.

‘Well, I can at least shout you a hot chocolate from the hut you told me about.’

‘Done!’

It’s a beautiful morning with a bright blue sky, but with a chill in the air. The kind of morning I recall June at the Swan telling me she loves.

I listen to birdsong as we walk and spot a blackbird on the branch of a tree. Dad once told me that blackbirds and robins are amongst the many birds that do not migrate from these parts. I impart this information to Will, but he doesn’t say much in response.

In the distance, I spot a cluster of trees surrounding the library building. As I imagine them being removed to make way for the new housing, I feel a surge of anger inside. I’m determined to find out the truth and resolve to ask Will when we’re closer to the library.

Approaching Hope Farm, I glance over towards the cowsheds, half expecting to see a wife and maybe a farm worker tending the farm, but it is quiet as we pass by. In fact, looking further, I see that the farm appears to be devoid of animals, yet wasn’t Nathan taking delivery of farm machinery?

A second barn appears to have been renovated, with a sleek-looking barn conversion in its place. I assume the four-by-four in the driveway of the house must belong to Nathan’s other half.

‘Penny for your thoughts?’ asks Will as my mind drifts back to the past.

‘What? Oh nothing really, I just remember this place.’ I nod towards the farmhouse. ‘In fact, it was the home of my first boyfriend,’ I find myself telling him.

‘So, this is kind of a trip down memory lane for you?’

‘In some ways, yes, I suppose it is. I haven’t been back here since I was a teenager, so I guess it is bound to bring up some emotions.’

‘I can imagine. Although I don’t believe in looking back,’ he says without emotion. ‘It’s pointless. Looking ahead and having a goal is what matters. To me at least.’

I wonder what happened between Will and his ex-wife, although it is clearly something he does not dwell on.

We continue on, and before we take a path that loops back into the village, I spot the drinks van up ahead.

There are a few tables outside, one occupied by a dog walker sipping a drink. His dog, a delightful chocolate cockapoo, wags its tail and strains on its lead to say hi, so I pet the animal, but Will completely ignores it.

‘Shall we?’ Will gestures to a table. ‘Or do you prefer to grab a takeaway and walk?’

‘Actually, let’s sit,’ I say before I order him a coffee, and a hot chocolate for me.

‘Are you not a dog lover, then?’ I ask, as the dog walker finishes his coffee and moves on.

‘Not especially.’ He shrugs. He took little interest in the local birds too, so clearly he’s not an animal lover in general. Mum always said to beware of men who don’t like children or animals.

Despite the chill in the air that bites at my cheeks, and the library on my mind, I find myself beginning to relax as I walk through the countryside.

There is something so soothing about engaging with nature, which, I realise, I do very little of when back in London.

There was a time when I would head to the parks, but even that seems to have stopped of late.

I really must try and do some more exercise, something I often think about but never seem to get around to doing.

I enjoy the crunch of the grass beneath my feet on the solid ground and the sight of the bare trees, their branches gilded with the remains of the snow. Every patch of soil or fallen twig stands out against the wintery white snow, the landscape a pretty winter wonderland.

When we eventually approach the side of the library, I decide to ask Will directly about the new houses.

‘So where exactly did you say the new-builds will be?’ I ask. Just then I almost slip on some icy ground and have to grab on to his arm.

‘Around here, I told you,’ he says as I steady myself.

‘But where exactly? I did hear it may be on the site of the library and children’s park.’

He attempts to walk on, but I stay put and glance at the library. It makes me mad to think about it not being here anymore.

‘And what would be the problem with that?’ he says without any emotion. ‘The council are struggling with their budget and apparently most people don’t use the library anyway.’ He shrugs. ‘They head off to the bigger one in the next town.’

‘Well, the council would say that, wouldn’t they?’ I say, surprised at quite how angry I feel. ‘And children need to be introduced to books at a very early age. Besides, it’s not just about the books; the library hosts many other activities—’

‘But building new houses will actually bring more money into the area.’ Will cuts me off mid flow.

‘For what exactly?’ I ask. ‘A new library or play area? I highly doubt it. And unless the rates are lowered on the high street rents, there will be no more shops,’ I fume.

‘There is actually talk of a new leisure centre being built not far from here, with a brand-new swimming pool.’

‘Well, a leisure centre is unlikely to be here in the village, is it?’ I reason. ‘More likely in the next big town.’

‘Look,’ he says, turning to face me. ‘The library will go anyway, so if not me, some other developer would buy up the land.’ He shrugs without an ounce of guilt. ‘It’s hardly worth worrying about.’

Hardly worth worrying about?

‘Taking a library and a kids’ park from a village is not something to worry about?’ I ask, wondering if he has a shred of decency in him.

‘It’s business,’ he replies coolly. ‘Besides, the council haven’t exactly agreed the planning permission yet,’ he reveals. ‘Although I imagine it will be going full steam ahead after Christmas.’

‘It is business to you, but I am sure a lot of people around here are going to feel the effects.’ But deep down, I know nothing I say will make him rethink his building plans.

‘Anyway, I am surprised that you are so concerned about it, as you don’t even live here anymore. It’s hardly the end of the world losing an under-used library, is it?

‘And a kids’ play area, that I am sure is very well used,’ I retort. ‘In fact, I know it is.’

Even in this weather, I noticed children wrapped up and playing on the swings with their families and friends.

I have often heard it said that what comes out of a person’s mouth has the potential to put you off them for life, and never has there been a more perfect example of this.

I suddenly feel nothing but distaste for the man walking beside me, despite his good looks.

How can someone not care about changing the very heart of a village, even though the council are the ones who are ultimately responsible?

One thing is for sure. They need to be stopped.

Especially as the planning permission has not actually been granted yet.

‘Well, I know having chatted to Marilyn that the villagers are very much against it.’ As we walk, I try to compose myself. I don’t disclose the fact that I will tell Marilyn that the housing plans are still in motion. Things will need to move quickly.

‘Things change,’ says Will. ‘If they didn’t, we would still have stocks on the market square, and people bring pelted with rotten tomatoes.’ He laughs at his own remark. There is someone I would not mind seeing in those stocks right now.

Passing the library and heading back towards the church, I paint on my brightest smile and thank Will for the walk this morning.

‘Thanks for the drink. And it would be great if we could keep in touch,’ he says, seemingly unaware that he has offended me in any way.

‘Well, you have my number,’ I tell him. ‘Although London is a very long way from here.’

I wonder how a guy as lovely as Henry could have a son who is seemingly only concerned about money and little else.

Outside the hotel, I quickly say goodbye, as Will gives me a peck on the cheek.

‘Safe journey back, then, it’s been a pleasure.’

‘Thanks. It’s been lovely meeting you too,’ I say with gritted teeth, before I head inside.

As I approach the entrance to the hotel, I suddenly find myself turning around and having one last-ditch attempt to ask Will to have a change of heart.

‘Look, I know the wheels are in motion, but you will upset a lot of people if you go ahead with your building plans. Surely there is plenty more land you could have chosen?’ I suggest.

‘Not really,’ he says matter-of-factly. ‘A lot of it has a preservation order on it. People will get used to having the new houses, especially the next generation. As I said, change is inevitable.’

‘So that’s it, you won’t consider looking elsewhere – maybe even somewhere out of town?’

‘No, I’m afraid not,’ he replies firmly. And in that moment, I know what I must do.