Autumn at the Star and Sixpence (7 page)

Taking a deep breath, Nessie did as she was told. She knew from years of experience that Sam didn’t let go once she had the bit between her teeth. And in any case, her sister was right.
This was a conversation Nessie and Owen needed to have.

The forge was warm when she slipped inside, although the fire beneath the wide steel hood on the far side of the room was banked low and burned a sullen red instead of its
usual incandescent orange. As always, the air was faintly tinged with smoke and the scent of sulphur. Owen stood beside the workbench in one corner, polishing a beautifully twisted toasting fork in
a vice. His grey t-shirt was smudged with dust and his expression was intent as he turned the blackened steel into burnished silver. Nessie watched in fascination for a few seconds; she loved
seeing Owen at work, loved his total absorption in the task at hand. And she couldn’t deny that she’d found watching him swing the hammer hard enough to send sparks flying from a
glowing piece of metal incredibly sexy in the past. It was probably a good thing he was engaged in a less-active task today. She didn’t need any distractions.

She cleared her throat. Owen looked up. ‘Hello, Nessie,’ he said, lifting the protective glasses from his eyes and smiling. ‘What brings you here?’

Nessie felt her mouth go dry. Now that she was here she didn’t want to talk about Patrick. She could make an excuse, invent a reason for her visit that had nothing to do with her husband . . . but then she’d have to face Sam. She swallowed hard and forced herself to speak. ‘There’s something I need to tell you. Have you got a minute?’

He stepped away from the workbench, his eyes concerned. ‘Of course. Let me just clean up and we can go somewhere a bit more comfortable.’

They opted for a walk down to the bridge. Nessie didn’t waste any time – she knew that if she didn’t start talking immediately she’d lose her nerve. When she’d
finished, Owen leaned against the stone parapet and studied her carefully. ‘You’re sure you don’t want to give things another go? With Patrick, I mean.’

Nessie took a deep breath and met his questioning gaze. ‘I’m sure. And in time, he’ll see that it’s all for the best too. Sam says it’s time we all moved
on.’

Owen tilted his head. ‘She’s a wise woman, your sister.’

They stood in silence for a moment, gazing at the branches swaying in the breeze, listening to the music of the river as it gushed under the bridge. ‘It doesn’t seem like five
minutes since these were all green,’ Owen said after a while, as a flurry of crisp brown leaves cascaded by. ‘Nothing stays the same for long, does it?’

Nessie hesitated. Did he mean the trees or life in general? ‘When I was young I used to feel sad when I saw the leaves all curled up and dead,’ she said, watching the leaves twirl.
‘Then one day, my mother explained that it’s all part of a bigger pattern. That the old leaves have to make way for new ones in the spring, so the tree can grow.’

Owen’s eyes crinkled at the edges. ‘We can learn a lot from nature, don’t you think?’

This time Nessie was sure he wasn’t just talking about the trees. She held his gaze and smiled. ‘Yes, I think we probably can.’

Sam stared at the packed rucksack on the kitchen table in disbelief.

‘Bloody hell, Nessie, you’re going for a few hours, not a week!’

Nessie folded her arms defensively. ‘Owen said to wrap up warm, so I’m taking our picnic blanket and the tartan rug. I’ve also packed a flask of hot chocolate, in case Luke
wants a drink; three hot water bottles and a few snacks.’

‘Hardly anything at all, then,’ Sam said, shaking her head in amusement. ‘You’ve probably got room for the sink if you want it.’

‘Go ahead,’ Nessie said. ‘Laugh if you want. But if I’m going to be spending the next two hours sitting in a pitch black field staring at the sky, I want to be properly
prepared.’

‘Fair enough,’ Sam conceded. ‘Hadn’t you better get going, though? It’s eleven o’clock already.’

Nessie pulled on her warmest coat and hoisted the rucksack onto her shoulders. ‘Okay,’ she said, wondering whether the hot water bottles had been a mistake. ‘I’m
ready.’

Her sister smiled. ‘May the force be with you, or whatever that ridiculous saying is. And if the opportunity for a fumble under the blanket presents itself, then go for it.’

‘Sam!’ Nessie couldn’t help laughing. ‘All right, maybe I will.’

‘Good girl,’ Sam said. ‘There’s hope for you yet.’

Owen and Luke were waiting at the door of Snowdrop Cottage.

‘Ready?’ Owen asked as Nessie reached them.

‘Can’t wait,’ she replied warmly.

Luke showed no signs of tiredness as they walked, even though Nessie knew it was several hours past his bedtime. His gaze was fixed hopefully on the sky. ‘We might see a few meteors now,
if we keep our eyes open.’

At the edge of the village, away from the glow of the street lamps, Owen handed out head torches. ‘The moonlight is helpful but we don’t want any accidents.’

Luke grinned, his face pale beneath the brightness of his torch. ‘One year, Dad trod in a cowpat.’

‘Yuck,’ Nessie said, thinking of Sam’s insistence that she was off for an evening of romance: there was nothing romantic about cow poo. But she was glad she’d worn her
wellies. She wasn’t looking forward to lying down in a field full of dung – picnic blanket or no picnic blanket – but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

As they got further into the field, however, she saw that she needn’t have brought any blankets at all. Owen had clearly been here earlier: laid out in the middle of the bumpy grass were
three deck chairs, complete with pillows and thick fleecy throws. A wicker picnic basket rested beside them.

Nessie turned to Owen. ‘You’ve done this before.’

He smiled. ‘Once or twice. I’m not going to lie, watching the Perseid meteors in August is usually more pleasant but at least it’s not raining.’

Luke threw his father a scornful look. ‘Obviously. We wouldn’t be able to see the sky if it was raining.’

Nessie was just about to reply when a silver streak seared across the sky. ‘Oh!’ she gasped. ‘What was that?’

Owen lifted the blanket from the nearest deck chair and ushered her into it. ‘It looks like the show’s about to start. Let’s get comfortable.’

He draped the throw across her legs, taking the time to ensure she was snugly wrapped up, before settling into the chair beside her. Luke wriggled into position in the final seat and they sat
for a moment, staring upwards.

‘Oh,’ Nessie said, rummaging in her rucksack. ‘I almost forgot. We should drink this before it gets cold.’

She pulled out her flask. Owen grinned and reached into the wicker basket. ‘Snap,’ he said, holding up a flask of his own. ‘I think we’re sorted for hot
chocolate.’

Nessie grinned. ‘But did you also bring these?’ she asked, pulling out a bag of mini-marshmallows.

‘All right!’ Luke exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. ‘You can come with us again, Nessie!’

Once the hot chocolate was poured, they switched off their head torches and settled down to watch the sky. Nessie laid her head against the pillow and gazed upwards, glad of the warm fleece to
ward off the chilly night air. The stars seemed much brighter here, away from the village, and they twinkled in a way she hadn’t really noticed before, as though they were trying extra
hard.

‘Meteor showers are named after the constellation they originate from,’ Owen said softly. ‘In this case, that’s Orion. They’re made when debris from passing comets
hits our atmosphere and burns up.’

‘How many will we see?’ Nessie asked, scanning the sky for tell-tale flares of light.

‘It’s hard to say – sometimes, it’s only one or two. But on a clear night like this, we could see between ten and twenty an hour.’

‘There!’ Luke shouted suddenly and Nessie caught a bright burst out of the corner of one eye.

‘I see it!’ she called excitedly. ‘Oh, and there’s another!’

It seemed as though they spotted one every few minutes after that. Some were brighter than others and Nessie found it was easier to relax than actively seek the flashes out.

‘Wow, that one was huge,’ Luke exclaimed, sounding every bit as thrilled as Nessie felt. ‘Don’t forget to make a wish!’

I wish I knew how Owen felt
, Nessie thought, turning her face towards him even though all she could see was a faint pale outline. And then she felt a gentle tug at her blanket as
Owen’s fingers crept underneath and wrapped themselves around her own. Nessie smiled in the darkness as a sudden burst of warmth flooded through her.
Wow
, she thought, turning her gaze
towards the sky once more. The universe worked
fast
.

‘So?’ Sam demanded when she ran into Nessie on the landing the next morning.

‘It was lovely,’ Nessie replied, smiling. ‘I think the final count was over twenty, which Luke says is better than last year.’

‘I don’t mean the meteors,’ Sam said in exasperation. ‘I mean you and Owen. Did anything happen?’

Nessie thought back to the night before when Owen had taken her hand beneath the blanket. Sam clearly expected more but for Nessie, it had been enough. ‘Maybe.’

Sam groaned. ‘This is like watching one of those terrible period dramas, where everyone is too uptight to even flirt. Why can’t the two of you just get a room and have done with it?
Then we can all get on with our lives.’

Her sister blushed. ‘There’s no rush, Sam. Owen and I are happy to take our time.’

‘There’s taking your time and then there’s taking forever,’ Sam said with a sigh. ‘Glaciers have defrosted faster than you two move.’

Nessie pushed past her and went into the bathroom. ‘If you must know, he held my hand.’

‘And?’

‘And nothing,’ Nessie said. ‘Like I said, we’re taking our time.’

She closed the door, leaving Sam staring at it in disbelief. She supposed it was a step in the right direction but at this rate, she’d be fifty before the two of them got together. It was
time for another strategy meeting with Kathryn.

Sam was on her way over to Snowdrop Cottage on Saturday afternoon when she saw Joss coming towards her. Her first instinct was to keep walking but he had a determined air about
him and she knew there was no escape.

‘Joss,’ she said in a brisk tone. ‘How are you?’

His blue eyes rested on hers. ‘Not bad. How are things with you?’

‘Fine. Busy, as always.’

He nodded. ‘Oktoberfest seemed to go well. You had a good selection of beer available.’

Sam shrugged. ‘I can’t take the credit for that; it’s all down to Connor. He’s great.’

Not as good as you, she wanted to say but she knew there was nothing to be gained from praising him. He’d made his choice in the summer.

Joss shifted his weight from one foot to the other. ‘Well. Like I said, it seemed to go down well.’

Sam said nothing. Up close he looked even younger without his beard, although the lines around his eyes gave his true age away. She had seen those eyes crinkle with laughter so many times while
they’d been a couple. They’d laughed a lot.

‘I saw you with Nick.’

It was a statement of fact, with no accusation behind the words, but Sam knew Joss well. He was needling her, trying to get a reaction. ‘And I saw you with your new girlfriend.
What’s your point?’

He stared at her. ‘Nothing. I . . . I just wish you’d been honest with me from the beginning, Sam. If I’d known about you and Nick I would never have started seeing you, and we
might all have been saved a lot of heartache.’

His mask of indifference slipped a little, giving her a glimpse of the hurt he clearly still nursed underneath. ‘There was nothing to tell,’ Sam said.

‘I read the papers. I know that’s not true.’

Sam growled in frustration. ‘It was all an act – Nick and I were friends. And if you hadn’t thrown your toys out of the pram, that’s all we’d still be
now.’

She knew it was the wrong thing to say but she couldn’t help herself; his accusations hurt just as much now as they had months ago.

His expression closed and his lips set in a tight, thin line. ‘You act like I’m just a kid, Sam, when I’m only a little bit younger than you. And whether you like it or not,
you’re just as much to blame for what happened with us as I am.’ His hands clenched by his side. ‘You kept things back, didn’t tell me about Will or that you were sneaking
off to meet Nick in London. You weren’t honest with me – what was I supposed to think?’

‘You’re right,’ Sam said quietly. ‘I am equally to blame. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.’

He paused. ‘Do you mean that?’

She laid her hand on his arm. ‘Of course I do, Joss. We were good together. I – miss you.’

Joss gazed at her for a moment, then shook her hand away. ‘I don’t get it. All I ever wanted was for you to let me in, to let your guard down. But you never really trusted me and
that made it impossible for me to trust you.’

Sam stared at him in consternation. ‘I
did
trust you!’

‘Not enough,’ Joss ground out. He glanced across at the Star and Sixpence. ‘And you trusted Nick Borrowdale more.’

He turned on his heel.

‘At least he was there for me,’ she called. ‘At least he showed he cared!’

Joss stopped and spun round to glare at her. ‘I cared, Sam. That’s the whole bloody problem.’

He strode away, leaving Sam staring after him in shock.
I cared too
, she felt like shouting, except that she knew he wouldn’t believe her. He’d made up his mind about her the
moment he’d found out about Will, and nothing was going to convince him otherwise.

‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ Kathryn said when she opened the door to Sam. ‘Don’t tell me Elijah Blackheart has been up to his old tricks
again?’

Luke was convinced that the Star and Sixpence was haunted by the ghost of the sixteenth-century highwayman and Kathryn often joked about it. But this time Sam didn’t smile. She slumped
onto the living-room sofa and put her head in her hands.

‘Why does everything in my life have to be so complicated?’ she asked. ‘Why can’t things just go smoothly for a change?’