Chapter One
Lizzie was in her garden weeding. “Hello, Auntie Liz!” called Fiona cheerfully, as she opened the picket gate and carefully closed it after her, despite her mother and little brother being only a little way behind.
Once, she had left it open, and the goats had escaped. It had taken ages to round them up again and, although it had been fun, Fiona had learnt her lesson.
“Can you come to tea?” Fiona asked. “I’m bursting with things to tell you,” Said the eight-year-old.
“Can’t you tell me now?” asked Lizzie as she took off her gardening gloves and gave Fiona a big hug. “I bet it’s that you’ve grown?” Fiona shook her head. “Lost a tooth?”
The picket gate squeaked and an elegant woman walked in wearing high heels. “I do wish you’d get a phone, or at least let us buy you a mobile. It’s ridiculous having to traipse over here just to give you a quick message,” Sally sighed as she tried to grab hold of Sidney’s hand. He was too quick and was soon off exploring the large garden. “I’m sorry, I hope he won’t trample on anything…edible.”
“Don’t worry about him,” reassured Lizzie. She stood up and stretched. She ached from all the weeding. “What’s the message?”
“We want you to come to tea!” interrupted Fiona. “Today. It has to be today.”
“Darling,” Sally soothed, “Auntie Liz may be busy today.”
Lizzie looked around her. There were always things to do in her garden or in the kitchen. “Tea today would be lovely. It will save me having to cook later on. When do you want me?”
“Now!” said Fiona excitedly.
“You’ll have to give me a little while to tidy up, have a wash and put the chickens to bed so that nasty Mr Fox won’t get them.”
“I’ll help!” offered Fiona.
“She’s welcome to give me a hand and we’ll catch you up in about half an hour.” Lizzie looked at her sister-in-law and added, “If that’s ok?”
“Stay,” said Sidney. He was a child of few words. Lizzie bent down to give her nephew a hug.
“If you can manage?” asked Sally haughtily. She was fifteen years younger than Lizzie, but, because she was a married woman with a family, she classed herself as superior.
“Sally,” said Lizzie gently. “I used to be a primary school teacher, I’m sure I’ll be able to manage my niece and nephew.” Lizzie smiled contentedly, holding their hands. “Is there anything you’d like me to bring?”
“Could I have some mint, please? Just a little, Richard’s home tomorrow and I’m hoping to welcome him back with a dinner party. I’m doing a fruit punch. I think it’s one of your recipes.”
“Mint’s no problem, but I thought I’d given you a plant only a short while ago.”
Sally looked down at her feet. “You’re always giving me plants. I don’t think it was mint. I really can’t tell the difference. They all look green to me.”
“It was mint. I remember the smell, but it’s dead now,” said Fiona. “Mummy forgot to water it.”
“You know what I’m like with plants!” laughed Sally.
“Never mind, I’ve got loads, it spreads like anything. Is it ok if I let the children choose which type you want – peppermint, spearmint, apple mint?”
“Any sort will be lovely. I’ll see you all in about half-an-hour.” Sally paused. “And Liz, don’t let them get too dirty.”
It didn’t take long to round up the chickens and put them in their coop. It was easier with someone to help.
Sidney gave the goats fresh water and Fiona fed them a bit of hay while Lizzie freshened up.
As she was in her bedroom brushing her long dark hair tinged with grey, she noticed a stranger in the garden next door. The house had been unoccupied for years and Lizzie wondered how safe it was inside. Quickly she twisted her hair up into a knot on the back of her head and ran downstairs to be with the children.
She let them pick a variety of mints from her herb garden and put them in a jam jar with a little water.
“Can I help?” Lizzie asked the tall, silver-haired stranger. “The house is empty.”
“Do you know where I can get a key?” he asked. His voice was mellow and he smiled kindly at the children. Laugh lines showed near his eyes and Lizzie couldn’t help smiling back.
“You can ask at the farmhouse along the lane. I don’t know if it belongs to the farm, but I have a feeling that they hold a key. If you do go in the house, be careful; I don’t know how safe it is. It’s been derelict for years.”
“Thanks for your help, Mrs…”
“Elliot, Lizzie.” She watched him go down the lane and turn into the farm track. “Come on then, let’s go and have some tea.”
It was only a short walk to her brother’s house where he lived with his wife, Sally, and their two children, Fiona and Sidney, and yet there was such a sharp contrast.
“It’s like time travel,” said Fiona.
“Pardon?”
“We go back in time to your cottage and forward to our house. Mummy calls it the real world.”
“Doesn’t she think I live in the real world too?” asked Lizzie.
“No, she’s always telling Daddy you live in the dark ages. She gets really cross sometimes.” Lizzie felt it was time to change the subject before Fiona said too much.
“Which do you like best?” asked Lizzie. Fiona thought for a while.
“Both. I love going back in time but I couldn’t live without TV.”
“And what about you, Sidney?” asked Lizzie in a quiet voice.
“Paddy and Ginty,” he said simply.
“I know you like the goats. Paddy was really naughty the other day. He managed to get free and nibbled all my clean washing!”
They came to the end of the grass track that led down to Lizzie’s cottage. Now there was a new road which led to a recently built, and very expensive, housing estate. It looked very sparse to Lizzie but she told herself it would look better once the trees and shrubs matured.
Lizzie couldn’t help looking up the farm path where she had directed the stranger. There was no sign of him, but Lizzie could see him clearly in her mind.
Sally’s new people carrier sat on the drive leading up to the double garage. The garden was mainly grass, with a few rose bushes in a flower bed.
Fiona ran up to the front door and hammered on it calling, “We’re home!”
Sally opened the door to let them in, the children dutifully removed their shoes and left them at the door. Lizzie slipped off her shoes too for fear of upsetting Sally if she were to get a dirty mark on the cream-coloured carpet.
“Tea’s nearly ready. Why don’t you go in the lounge for a few minutes?”
Lizzie sat on the creamy leather sofa with a child on each side. Fiona got out her school reading book and read to them.
“Now it’s your turn to read to us,” announced Fiona when she’d finished her school book.
“Tea’s ready. Wash your hands and come and sit up.”
The table was covered with healthy, but shop bought food. Sally said she didn’t have time to cook.
“Look!” said Fiona proudly waving a piece of paper in the air. “We made a newspaper at school and the real editor came in from The Chronicle and said it was very good.
“That’s excellent,” said Lizzie. “Which bit did you do?”
“Don’t worry about that now. It’s tea time,” reminded Sally. Fiona ignored her mother and found the page she was looking for.
“But that’s why I wanted Auntie Liz over!” explained Fiona. “I wrote this article all about you and your farm.”
“It’s not really a farm. I only have a few animals. The farm’s next door.”
“Well anyway. I said how it was just like going back into olden times and how clever you were, but do you know what?” Fiona’s voice sounded indignant.
“What?” asked Lizzie as she politely took a sandwich.
“The editor said it was a good story but in a real newspaper they don’t have fiction, just fact. I told him he didn’t know what he was talking about.”
“I hope you didn’t,” interrupted Sally with a stern look.
“I wasn’t rude, but I told him it was all true and if he didn’t believe me, he should come and see for himself!”
“And what did he say to that?” asked Lizzie.
“He said he’d love to and he would bring a photographer,” Fiona paused with her sandwich in one hand. “I think he said Thursday.”
“A photographer’s coming to me on Thursday? That’s tomorrow!” said Lizzie. “I’ll have to shampoo the goats!”
“I think it was Thursday, but I’m not sure, Sophie was poking me in the back because she wanted to show the editor her picture.”
“I’m sure they won’t just turn up,” began Lizzie. “This tea is lovely. You’ll have to come to me next time, especially if your dad’s home.”
“Richard’s due home at the weekend, but we’ll be very busy.”
“Oh well, do let me know if I can babysit or anything.”
“Actually,” said Sally, “I was hoping you might do me a table arrangement for the dinner party on Saturday night?”
“Certainly. I love working with flowers. What colour do you want?”
“I’ve got ivory napkins…”
“How about using those beautiful red roses you’ve got in the front garden?”
“Good idea.”
“It’ll be easier if I come round on Saturday and do it here. Perhaps I can have a few minutes with Richard?”
“Daddy,” said Sidney and Fiona lent over and gave him a sisterly kiss.
It was beginning to get dark by the time Lizzie walked up the lane on her way home. The children had wanted one story after another and then she had helped Sally choose the menu for Saturday.
Lizzie slowed as she neared her home. She thought she’d seen a shadowy figure in the garden. As she watched, she saw something move. Suddenly it dawned on Lizzie that Paddy the goat might have somehow managed to get out of his field and be free to roam around the vegetable patch.
Lizzie ran through the picket gate and headed blindly toward the small paddock where the goats grazed. She let out a gasp as she realised, she was not alone.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” a man’s voice said. Lizzie recognised the mellow tones of the strange man who’d been hanging around earlier.
“What are you doing in my garden?” she demanded.
“I thought I heard a noise,” he said. “It sounded like an animal.”
“I keep animals,” said Lizzie shortly.
“It sounded in pain,” he explained. “I didn’t mean any harm; I was just concerned.”
“Well, it’s fine now. I’m home, you can go and I’d be grateful if you didn’t trespass on my property in future!”
He brushed past her as he made for the path on his way out of the garden.
The handsome stranger had not reached the gate when they both heard a strangled cry. He turned and made his way back to Lizzie’s side. He carried a torch which he flashed around in the direction the noise had come from.
“My chickens!” cried Lizzie as she ran towards the little hen house. She clapped and waved her arms around. In the torchlight they saw the unmistakeable red fur of a fox. “Shoo!” called Lizzie. The man ran forward shouting and the fox disappeared.
“Ah!” yelped the man as he jumped up in the air and tripped over something. He fell back down to the ground and yelled out in agony.
Lizzie turned round and saw Paddy with a piece of cloth in his mouth.
“What have you got there?” she asked as she approached the goat. He seemed to think it was a game and ran off.
“What was that?” said a voice from the ground.
Lizzie offered him her hand to help him up. “I’m sorry, that’s Paddy, my goat. He’s always seen himself as a sort of guard dog. He’s harmless but…” before Lizzie could finish the sentence, McGinty had barged into her and sent her flying. She landed on top of the strange man.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said trying to pick herself up.
“Here,” said the man, “let me give you a hand.” He rose to his feet and easily helped her up again.
“Paddy,” called Lizzie in a coaxing voice and obediently he walked over to her and held up his chin to be tickled. Lizzie stroked him with one hand and grabbed his collar with the other. “I’ll take him back to his pen and get another torch so we can check that the chickens are ok.”
“I’ll try and catch the other one,” the man suggested but his voice did not sound confident.
It didn’t take long for Lizzie to return Paddy to his pen and to fetch a torch. She easily caught McGinty who recognised her voice. As soon as she too was shut up with Paddy for the night, they went to inspect the hen house for damage.
“I think he was just sniffing around,” said the man. “There’s no sign of a break in.” Lizzie double checked, but had to agree that the chicken wire was still intact.
“Thank you for your help,” she said quietly, now feeling embarrassed, knowing that he had just been trying to help.
“I suppose I’d better go and clean up,” he said.
“You’re not living next door, are you?” asked Lizzie.
“No. It needs too much doing to it. I’m staying at the pub in the village. I was just out for a walk. It’s beautiful round here.”
“It is,” agreed Lizzie. “Look, why don’t you come in and wash your hands. Do you want a cup of tea?”
“I won’t say no,” he paused as Lizzie reached her front door. “I’m Jack, by the way.” He held out his hand and then they both laughed as in the light of Lizzie’s cottage they realised just how dirty they both were. “On second thoughts, I’ll go back to the pub and have a bath. Will you be all right now?”
“I’ll be fine,” Lizzie smiled at the stranger. Even with his hair ruffled up and a muddy face he was still dazzlingly handsome. “Thanks again for your help,” she called as he disappeared down the dark lane.
The following day Lizzie was up early. She fed the chickens and let the goats into the small field to graze. She couldn’t see any damage but tightened up the hinges on the gate of the goat pen.
While it was still early Lizzie wandered round her garden snipping here and there at a selection of leafy foliage ready to condition in water for making her sister-in-law’s arrangement that evening.
The day passed rapidly with weeding and planting and Lizzie lost all track of time. Once or twice during the day she had caught herself day dreaming about the silver-haired man called Jack who had come to her rescue.
Lizzie rarely let herself dwell on how things might have been. She had thrown herself into her career as a teacher and was kept so busy she never had time for a social life. She was happy. She loved her job and was rewarded by feeling loved by all those she taught. It was a small village school in those days and everyone knew everyone in the village. The atmosphere was lovely. Lizzie felt the whole community was her family.
Then, first her mother, shortly followed by her father passed away and Richard moved abroad to work. By the time he returned five years later having met and married Sally, the village had changed beyond recognition.
Two farms had been sold and hundreds of houses had been built. The village school was no longer large enough to cater for the growing population. It was replaced by a huge modern school on the other side of the village.
Lizzie recalled the day she’d returned from the solicitor’s office having received her share of her parents’ estate. She should have been glad to be a wealthy woman but she’d looked in the mirror and just saw a middle-aged woman with bags under her eyes and a pasty complexion.
It wasn’t long after, that she bought the dilapidated old cottage and refurbished it. The more time she spent making the house comfortable and taming the large plot, the more she realised how much she enjoyed the outdoor life. Her complexion improved but there were too many changes at the new school that Lizzie didn’t care for, and soon she decided to take early retirement at 50. She had shut herself away and tried to live in harmony with nature.
“Thank God you’ve arrived!” said Sally. “I was beginning to get worried that I wouldn’t have a table decoration for this evening.”
Lizzie smiled at her sister-in-law. “You knew I wouldn’t let you down. I just got carried away in the garden and forgot the time.” Lizzie hugged her niece, nephew and then her brother as he came to greet her as she arranged the things round her in the kitchen.
As Lizzie worked with the flowers, Fiona sat quietly and watched. It didn’t take long before she’d transformed individual flowers into a beautiful table decoration.
“That’s lovely,” said Sally as she whisked it off into the dining room.
Lizzie sipped her tea and was pleased to find herself alone with her brother.
“Richard,” she said, “I hope you don’t think I’m interfering, but I am concerned about Sidney. He hardly says a word and when he does speak, he doesn’t say a whole sentence. He’s nearly five and he’ll be starting school before you know it.”
“Sally has taken him to the doctor. He just said that Fiona’s such a chatterbox, he doesn’t get a chance to speak. Don’t worry.”
At that moment Sally came back into the room and reminded Richard that he only had half an hour before their guests arrived and he had to get changed and be ready to serve the welcome drink.
“I’ll talk to you over dinner,” said Richard to Lizzie.
“She’s not staying,” said Sally as though Lizzie was just a servant brought in for her floristry skills.
“Have you eaten?” Richard asked Lizzie.
“Not yet, I’ve been in the garden all day, but it’s no problem, I can get something when I get home. I’ll just stay and put the children to bed for you and then slip off.”
The doorbell rang. Sally went pale and looked at the clock.
“Quick, Richard, go and get changed!” she ordered.
“Paul!” said Sally loudly to let Richard, and the whole household know that their guests had started to arrive. “How lovely to see you! Do come in. Richard will be down in a moment. He’ll get you a drink.”
As Paul entered, taking off his coat, Fiona rushed past her mum and into the kitchen where Lizzie was tidying up her things.
“Auntie Liz! It’s him!”
Lizzie looked up. “Who?”
“The man who said my article about you was a story!” Fiona was pulling on her hand and dragged her through to the lounge where Sally was making small talk with their guest.
As Fiona entered with Lizzie, Richard came through the opposite door and shook hands with Paul. Lizzie couldn’t conceal a gasp as she looked at the man. He reminded her of the man who’d been in her garden but she couldn’t be sure.
“This is Lizzie, my sister,” said Richard. The man offered his hand but made no sign of recognising her. They briefly shook hands.
“This is my auntie,” announced Fiona. “The one who lives in the past. Honest. You ask her!”
“Lizzie, would you mind taking Fiona up to bed?” asked Sally coolly.
“It’s not my bedtime!” argued Fiona. “Besides, Sidney’s still up.”
“Come along with me and we’ll find Sidney,” suggested Lizzie still holding Fiona’s hand.
“So do you believe me now?” asked Fiona.
The man smiled down at Fiona. It was a shallow smile. “I tell you what, you go off to bed like a good little girl and I’ll talk to your auntie about her lifestyle.”
Fiona tried to stand her ground but Sidney had found a frog in the garden and wanted everyone to come and see.
“I’ll lay another place,” said Sally to herself as everyone else went to inspect the frog.
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About the author
Sarah’s the eldest daughter of two librarians, so it’s no surprise she has a love of books, and has always been an avid reader. Her mother was a writer and storyteller, whereas her father preferred non-fiction. Both were always supportive of her early writing attempts and presented her with an electric self-correctable typewriter for her 21st! She’s never looked back!
Sarah had a variety of jobs before going to university as a mature student and training to be a teacher, since then she’s taken early retirement and now writes on a fulltime basis, discovering a real passion for historical fiction. She’s currently working on a series set in Edwardian England.
Her aim is to entertain with an interesting plot and lively characters, but also to include enough little details to transport you back in time, without making you feel like you’re reading a history book. Her research includes practical things like dressing up in period costume, living on rations, having a go at driving a tractor and flying a spitfire (a simulation only but a worthwhile experience!)
She has two grown up sons living nearby with their lovely long-term girlfriends and a very supportive husband. He’s a sports fanatic and makes sure Sarah doesn’t spend all her time reading or working at the computer, but makes time for a good daily walk and plenty of fresh air.
Above all, Sarah’s a cheerful, optimistic person, a little on the quirky side but always on the look-out for an uplifting snippet she can weave into a story – you have been warned!
