A memory triggered for an instant, a sense of familiarity as she looked into the dark eyes facing her … then it was gone.
She wound down the window ‘I’m sorry I’m not from round here, I was looking for my turning…’ Annie stammered, shaken by the experience. It wasn’t quite the relaxing start to her break she’d expected.
‘I can see that!’ the stranger exclaimed, regarding Annie with an air of disdain. He brushed down his jeans and adjusted his jacket as he tried to regain his composure. That had been a close shave!
Despite herself, she jumped out of her car and approached the stranger ‘I’m really sorry, are you alright?’ Annie watched the athletic figure limp to the pavement ‘Do you live locally? I can give you a lift home if you like? it looks as though you might have a sprain or something’. She was a kind hearted person by nature, and was devastated to have caused an accident. ‘God why wasn’t I paying attention’ she scolded herself.
The tall figure sat down on the side of the road to catch his breath. He held his head in his hands, then ran his fingers through his mop of unruly black curls, and found himself laughing. ‘Not bloody likely, given you’re driving. I think I’ll take my chance on two legs thanks’. Annie couldn’t help but notice his rugged good looks – his smile was enticing, punctuated by two small dimples in his cheeks. But there was something behind his dark brooding eyes, that unsettled Annie.
Then she came to her senses, and realised that he’d just insulted her ‘Well what d’you expect when you jump out of nowhere?’ Annie retorted indignantly.
‘You ought to get some specs love; you pretty much mounted the pavement. If I didn’t know better I’d say you’d done it deliberately.’ He couldn’t believe that this diminutive red head was attacking him, for her inability to drive.
Annie wasn’t going to listen to this anymore, she’d gone out of her way to be civil to him to help him, and he was actually laughing at her now, and that’s one thing she couldn’t stand – being made fun of. He watched on with a faint sense of pleasure as she stormed back to her car, gathering her red coat about her as if seeking protection.
She leapt back into the driver’s seat and after a couple of aborted attempts managed to restart the engine on her old CV.
‘The name’s Jason by the way’ he shouted, as he lifted himself up off the floor. She quickly wound up the window ‘The cheek of it!’ Annie muttered to herself ‘As if I’d be interested. Thinks he’s God’s gift to women!!’ She screeched away in 1st gear, not even glancing back. She couldn’t quite fathom out what had disturbed her, but all she knew is she had to get out of here!
Jason watched her drive away, confused by their brief encounter ‘Who was this feisty woman? And just what was her problem?’ With a shake of his head, he turned to hobble down the road towards the pub. Well the evening might as well not be a complete loss – perhaps he’d get some decent conversation in there.
∞∞∞∞∞
As she drove up the hill and rounded the corner, Annie’s spirits raised as she glimpsed the cottage. Dusk was starting to give way to the darkness of a winter’s evening and the warm glowing lights promised comfort and sanctuary within.
Following the plane crash, when she lost Quentin so suddenly, her once parents in-law-to be had become very close to her. Perhaps it was their way of staying in touch with their son. Annie had taken his death very hard, and was struggling to believe that life would ever get back to normal again.
‘Darling, I know you’re going through a hard time at the moment. We were wondering, Douglas and I… the money that we were going to give you and Quen….’ her voice broke momentarily ‘ you and Quentin towards your wedding, would you allow us to give you that, so that you can go off and do something different? Whatever you want, you choose – I know our son wouldn’t have wanted you to be unhappy’ His parents were what she termed ‘landed gentry’, living on a large country estate in Hampshire. Their offer was extremely generous, and it wasn’t that she was ungrateful, but there are some things that money just can’t buy.
Initially Annie refused her ‘mother-in-law’s offer. It seemed incomprehensible to see life beyond that wedding, the dream wedding that had never been. But as time went by, she felt a strange need to escape to get away from it all. She decided to take a six month break to give her time to contemplate what she wanted to do with the rest of her life – and so swallowing her pride here she was – at Parwich Heights.
The old stone farmhouse, sat on the hilltop with a commanding view of the village below. As she pulled onto the gravelled driveway, she could see the cottages nestled in the valley below. Annie watched the wisps of smoke, rising from the chimneys, floating up like lost spirits into the starry sky.
‘I hope Mrs Cundy has kept her word’ she thought. The friendly woman that she’d spoken to on the phone said the house would be unlocked, and she’d have the fire going in the front parlour. She couldn’t wait to get in front of its crackling warmth, as it was cold and she was still shaking from her earlier encounter.
The entrance to the cottage was at the back of the house, to make the most of the views across the valley. True to her word Mrs Cundy had left the large oak door unlocked, and she stepped into the hall. She felt as though she had stepped back in time, the stone flagged floor was worn into a dip in the doorway where many feet had gone before her. A large iron key, which she assumed was for the front door lay on a small antique table.
She felt a tingle of excitement, and instantly felt at home. Yes she was sure she would be happy here.
Annie soon made herself at home, having checked out each room like an excited child. The ‘parlour’ was everything she’d expected it to be – a magnificent grit stone fireplace, with two flickering candles casting a mellow light on the mantelpiece. A large dog grate stood on the stone hearth – and she watched on, mesmerised by the roaring flames. ‘Good old Mrs Cundy’, she must remember to drop in on her tomorrow morning to thank her.
Right, first things first – a nice warm relaxing bath, and then snuggle down to a movie. That would be the perfect end to her first evening in Parwich.
Annie climbed the wooden staircase – it reminded her of her grandma’s house, with a strip of red patterned carpet held in place by antique brass stair rods. As she hauled her suitcase onto the top step of the landing there was a warm lamplight coming from the room to her left – poking her nose round the corner of the pine panelled door she smiled – ‘Yes this will do very nicely’.
There was a solid brass bedstead in the centre of the cosy room, with a huge thick quilt and eiderdown. It had been a tough day – and she fell back gratefully into the marshmallow softness. Annie closed her eyes for a moment – and there he was etched on her memory – the stranger that she’d almost knocked down. She opened her eyes quickly, in attempt to rid herself of the thought of him, and then Annie did something she’d not done for a long time – she started to sob heavily.
‘Where had that come from?’ she thought as she dabbed her eyes to quell the tears. Annie thought she had overcome the worst of it, and this had taken her by surprise. Perhaps it was the realisation that she was on her own. Quentin would have loved this place, and he wasn’t here to share it with her.
The steaming aromatic bath was a welcome distraction, as she slipped back the water rose up to cover her shoulders, the fizzing foam enveloping her in a jasmine fragrance. Annie had set her favourite DAB radio on the landing, and the haunting melodies of Enya soothed all her thoughts away. It felt so calming she stayed in the water as long as possible, savouring the warm glow on her skin.
After towelling herself down, Annie put on her brushed cotton pyjamas and dressing gown – her auburn hair wrapped turban style. Now she was ready to indulge herself – a bit of me time she thought.
She went to the kitchen first to collect a bottle of sparkling rosé from the kitchen. It was so cold out tonight that the bottle had lost none of the chill since she’d picked it up from the off license in Ashbourne. She also rummaged in the supermarket carrier bags, and triumphantly retrieved the box of dairy milk that she’d treated herself to. Although Annie loved Quentin, one thing she had hated was the fact that he’d reprimand her if she so much as looked at a chocolate. Since being a little girl, Annie had always had to work hard at keeping her figure – and chocolate was her guilty pleasure. There was no-one here to see her now, and it would be such a pleasure to pour over the tray of milky chocolate, deciding which soft centre to go for.
Armed and ready for her evening tucked up in the comfort of her new home, she headed into the parlour. The fire flickered and danced, warming the small but cosy room to an almost tropical temperature. Annie spent the next few minutes fiddling with the TV and DVD player. She was quite savvy with technology, but this set up was so old it took a bit of working out. Finally she was ready, and snuggled into the sofa, surrounding herself with cushions. The box of chocolates rested on her lap within easy reach, and glass of wine in hand. Heaven!
Phantom of the Opera, was another of Annie’s guilty pleasure, not only for the classic musical scores – but more importantly Gerard Butler. Now that’s what she called a man. Like many women, Annie was a sucker for a frilly white shirt opened just enough to reveal a hint of the hairy chest that lay hidden beneath its linen depths. The black britches and knee high leather boots hugging and revealing the muscular, manly form of his legs. She knew it was only a dream, a fantasy – but what a fantasy. Annie allowed herself to be transported away to another time and dimension – she became Christine and revelled in the emotional charge and passion between herself and the gorgeous Mr Butler.
The rest of the evening passed pleasurably, but Annie had been tired by her journey – and unwittingly dropped off into a deep sleep before the end of the movie. She woke with a start staring at the black screen, and for a moment forgot where she was. As the realisation dawned on her, Annie rose groggily. The flames of the fire had died back now, leaving a mound of glowing embers. She stretched like a cat, and yawned – ‘I’ll tidy up in the morning’ she thought as she looked at the half empty tray of chocolates. Now that soft bed was calling her.
The cottage fell silent and settled into darkness. Before she went to sleep Annie remembered the package that her Mum had given her. She padded across to her still packed suitcase, and reached in for the small parcel. Jumping back under the covers, she folded the duvet around her.
A couple of months ago, Annie had dropped in on her Mum. She’d been clearing out the loft – finding several boxes of junk which Annie had deliberately forgotten about – and had called her over to reclaim her belongings. As she’d been rummaging through she’d come across the small linen parcel, bound with ribbon.
‘This belonged to your Great, great grandmother’ her Mum explained, sat down at the kitchen table over a cup of tea and chocolate digestives. ‘My mother gave it to me when I was a little girl. Her name was Grace, and she was born in a Derbyshire village’, her Mum hesitated, trying to recall the name ‘I think it was Parditch or Parwich or something like that’
‘Anyway’ Joyce continued, ‘It turns out there was a bit of a skeleton in the old family closet…..’But it turned out to be a disappointment, as her Mum couldn’t quite recall the details.
Annie looked at the faded cloth and red silk ribbon that bound the package that now lay before her. Her heart started beating faster as she reached forward to untie the bow. ‘Would Grace reveal her secret? Would she find out exactly what had gone on in Parwich all those years before?…
Parwich Heights 
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