Daddy's Here(47)

“Sweetie, please, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better.”

It had just gone noon by the time they arrived at the new house. It seemed smaller than the last time she viewed it. “Is this it?” she asked as she climbed out of the car. “This isn’t it, is it?” She stretched her back before turning to her father. “Tell me this isn’t it.”

“Don’t you like it, sweetie?” her father asked, unlocking the gate so he could drive the car in.

“I’m going for a walk,” she replied, heading down the path into the village. So they were going to live here? The place was so small that in ten minutes she’d reached the last of the houses and the end of the footpath, there was nothing else but road and fields. Turning round, she headed slowly back, catching her heel in a muddy puddle at the edge of the path.

Swearing loudly, she looked around for something to wipe away the mud. In the garden next to her, a row of clothes was wafting back and forth on a clothes line. That’ll do, she thought, pushing open the gate and grabbing the nearest thing from the line. It was a white blouse, just the right size to scrape the mud from her shoe. She tossed the blouse back into the garden once she was done, not noticing the villager watching her through the cottage window at the far end of the garden.

There was a small lane to her right a few houses later and she walked down it, spotting an orchard filled with apple and pear trees. Without stopping, she walked through the open gate into the orchard, reaching up and tugging at an apple, biting into it as she returned to the lane. Not bad, she thought as she chewed slowly. Organic at least. At the far end of the orchard, another villager watched her with his arms folded.

She tossed the remains of the apple onto the road before crossing to the far side of the village, peering through windows and then moving onto the next house. Seeing a bicycle leaning against a garage wall, she decided to try it out.

Having not ridden in years, she wobbled at first, almost falling before gradually getting the hang of it, freewheeling down the slope back towards her new house. Behind her the owner of the bicycle stood by the garage, watching her go. She reached her new house a minute later, letting the bike fall to the floor as she walked up the gravel drive to the house.

The place had a thatched roof on one wing, the other topped with red tiles. There were four floors of mullioned windows, flowerbeds lining the drive, potted plants nearer to the house. It did look pretty, it just seemed smaller than last time. When she’d come to the last viewing with her father, it had seemed enormous. Would it be big enough for her to live in? Would there be space for her to start a business? To keep all her shoes? There better be, she thought, pushing open the front door and walking inside.

She could hear her father on the phone and she found him in the kitchen, barking loudly into the receiver. “Right, fine, I’m on my way.”

He hung up. “Ah, there you are sweetie. Something’s come up and I need to pop back. The removal men are coming this evening, just get them to put stuff where you like and I’ll sort it when I get back.”

“How long are you going to be?” Abbey asked, looking around at the cavernous interior of the house. “Are you going to leave me alone here?”

“You’ll be fine, you’re a big girl. I shouldn’t be too long, a week at most.”

“A week? You expect me to spend a week here without being able to drive anywhere? What am I supposed to do with myself?”

“Read a book? Unpack a bit? Get to know the locals? I’ll be as quick as I can, I promise.”

“You’ve done this on purpose, haven’t you? Can’t wait to get away from me. I bet the removal men murder me and it’ll serve you right if they do.”

“Sweetie, I know you’re angry right now but I’ll make it up to you when I get back. How about I hire a helicopter next week? Take you up to Scotland again? Go to that spa you like?”

“Fine,” she said, pouting as he kissed her cheek. “But you better be back soon.”

“Just knock on a few doors, say hello to a few people. The time’ll fly by, I promise. You could even invite your friends down if you want?”

“I can’t show them an empty house, they’ll laugh at me. Are you an imbecile?”

He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to go. I love you, Abigail, I’ll see you soon.”





Chapter Four





Abbey woke up the next morning to the sound of someone hammering on the front door. “All right,” she muttered, climbing out of bed and wrapping her dressing gown around her. The morning air was cold, she had yet to work out the heating controls for the place, having spent most of the previous evening dealing with the utterly incompetent removals men.