Surprises in Burracombe

Book 10: Burracombe Village

by Lilian Harry

Genres: Sagas

Synopsis

Hilary Napier has had enough of secrets. The engagement party at the Barton is finally a chance for her and David to celebrate their good news. But the course of true love never did run smooth. At the school, Frances and James are readying the children for the play at the annual Summer Fair and doing their best to ignore their feelings for each other. Will the chaos-causing Crocker twins make it to the dress rehearsal and, more importantly, will Frances find a way to let herself love again? Amongst all the drama, old friends are always on hand and when Dottie falls ill, an old face comes back to Burracombe to lift her spirits, and perhaps change her life.

Release date: August 13, 2015

Publisher: Orion Publishing Group

Print pages: 352

Sample

Chapter One





April 1955

‘Well, would you credit it?’ Alice Tozer spread Thurs­day’s edition of the Tavistock Gazette out on the kitchen table, where her mother-in-law Minnie was peeling carrots for dinner, and gazed at the announcements page. ‘Hilary Napier’s got engaged to the new doctor!’

Joanna, her daughter-in-law, looked up from the farm papers she was trying to make sense of. ‘That’s not much of a surprise. Anyone could see how friendly they’ve been getting since he came to work with Dr Latimer.’

‘I know,’ Alice said, still gazing at the announcement. ‘Everyone’s noticed it. All the same, it seems a bit quick, considering he’s only been here since New Year.’

‘Didn’t they know each other before?’ Minnie asked, putting the last carrot into a saucepan of water. ‘Our Val said something about them being in Egypt together during the war. And you remember Val already knew him from then too.’

Alice’s lips tightened a little, as they always did when Val’s time in Egypt as a nurse was mentioned, and Joanna looked at her with interest, wondering what it was that had happened to her sister-in-law to bring that expression to her mother’s face. But all Alice said was ‘Yes, I think that’s right. He was an army doctor, wasn’t he? I suppose they must have met each other then.’ She turned over another page. ‘Seems a bit of a coincidence, mind, that our Dr Latimer should have trained with Dr Hunter’s father all those years ago and then asked him to come here as a partner. And then for him and Hilary to get engaged almost at once …’

‘You reckon there’s more to it than that, Mother?’ Joanna asked, frowning over an invoice. ‘You think there’s been something going on we didn’t know about?’

‘And if there was,’ Minnie said sharply, ‘there’s no reason why us should know anything about it! Miss Hilary’s the Squire’s daughter; her don’t have to take people like us into her confidence. Besides, I don’t see it’s all that much of a coincidence that Dr Latimer should think of him when he was looking for a partner. I dare say he and Dr Hunter’s father have kept in touch over the years, and both came round to thinking of retiring around the same time.’

‘So why isn’t this young Dr Hunter taking over his father’s practice, then, up in Derby?’ Alice demanded. ‘You’d think that would be the usual way of things.’ She turned the page again to read the letters.

‘I suppose it’s not the same for doctors as it is for farmers. Perhaps he just wanted a change.’ Joanna sighed and picked up a receipt. ‘Honestly, you’d think some of these people had never been to school. I can’t make this writing out at all … Can you see what it says, Gran?’

Minnie peered at the scrap of paper, decorated with stains that neither of them liked to enquire into. ‘I think it’s for hay. It’s that old chap over to Penny Cross that Ted and Tom go over to help with the stooking. He’s always six months behind with his paperwork. I dunno how he gets on with all these new-fangled regulations. Anyway, getting back to the young doctor, didn’t Val say something about him not long having lost his wife? So there’s not likely to have been anything going on as shouldn’t, is there?’

Joanna smiled. ‘I dare say you’re right, Gran. Anyway, it’s nice news and we all ought to be pleased about it. An Easter engagement. I expect they put it in the paper this week so that everyone would know about it by Sunday.’ Her face saddened a little. Easter Day was not easy for Joanna, for it was only two years since her baby Suzanne had died in her pram on that day. But she was making a big effort this year not to allow grief to overtake her, if only for the sake of her son, Robin, and Suzanne’s twin, Heather. ‘I wonder when the wedding will be.’

‘Not long, I reckon,’ Alice said, folding up the newspaper. ‘Hilary won’t want to hang about, not at her age. She’s past thirty now, getting late for starting a family.’

‘Mother!’ Joanna protested, laughing. ‘She’s barely got the engagement ring on her finger, let alone the wedding band, and you’re looking for babies already! And there’ll be heaps of things to do before the wedding – it’s bound to be a big one, so there’ll be a lot to plan. But at least they won’t have to think about looking for a home. They’ll live at the Barton, won’t they?’

She looked down at the stack of forms and papers. ‘You know, if the government sends us much more of this stuff, we’ll have to have a proper office instead of just piling it all up on the dresser. Whatever do they do with all the information we send them? Tom reckons they just stuff it into a drawer and forget about it – and that’s just what I’m going to do with it now.’ She gathered up the papers and carried them over to the big kitchen dresser. ‘It’s Good Friday tomorrow and nobody up in London is going to do anything about any of it until next week. They’ve got enough to worry about with all these strikes to sort out, and a new prime minister to get used to. I’m going to give our bedroom a proper turnout, and then all the spring-cleaning’s finished.’

‘And I’m going to start the hot cross buns,’ Minnie declared. ‘It won’t feel like Easter till we got the smell of they baking in the oven. I’ve got some nice fresh yeast in the larder ready. You’ve got the salt cod for tomorrow’s tea, Alice, have you?’

‘Val’s going into Tavi this afternoon, she’ll pick it up then. Salt cod and hot cross buns, and then roast lamb for Sunday dinner. And an engagement to celebrate. What more could you want for Easter?’



Most of the families in Burracombe were planning to celebrate Easter in much the same way – salted cod or smoked haddock or some other kind of fish on Good Friday, followed by hot cross buns from George Sweet’s bakery; church or chapel and visits on Sunday morning, with a roast dinner around one o’clock and either a walk or a gossip (and maybe a snooze) in the afternoon, and then picnics or gardening on Easter Monday. A few chocolate Easter eggs had appeared in the shops, to the delight of the children, who had made do with cardboard ones for years, and Sunday breakfast was enlivened by boiled eggs of rainbow hues, cooked in water containing cochineal or other food colourings, or wrapped in onion skins.

Hilary Napier and David Hunter were doing all this. But they had something even more special to celebrate. They were busy planning the engagement party Hilary’s father had insisted should be held on Easter Day, after church. Not the easiest time for a party, Hilary remarked ruefully as she and David staggered into the Burracombe Barton kitchen loaded with boxes of groceries, together with a few extra bottles of sherry just in case they ran out, but it was obviously the most appropriate. They heaved their shopping on to the big table and stood for a moment contemplating it.

‘It’s a good job meat came off ration last year,’ Hilary observed. ‘Bert Foster’s let us have the biggest leg of lamb I’ve ever seen. Well, strictly I suppose it’s mutton – by the time a lamb gets that big, it’s a grown-up sheep.’

‘And all the tastier for it,’ said Mrs Curnow, the housekeeper, starting to unpack. ‘You can’t beat a joint of mutton, cooked nice and slow. I wish you’d let me come in to help, Miss Hilary. It’s a lot for you to do on your own, what with going to church as well, and all the drinks to see to.’

‘I shan’t be on my own,’ Hilary said with a smile at David. ‘Patsy’s coming in the morning to do the vegetables. David will see to the drinks, and Father will be fussing about making sure everyone has their glass topped up. And if the meat is ready to come out by half past twelve, I can just pop the potatoes in to roast and start the rest of the vegetables before going back to the party. Father’s going to announce the engagement then – although everyone will know already – and probably propose at least two toasts, and I expect Dr Latimer will want to say something, and then I can just say that lunch is ready and make them all stop. You stay at home and enjoy Easter with your sister.’

‘I’ll do the trifle and the apple tart before I go on Saturday, then,’ the Cornishwoman said. ‘They’ll be in the larder all ready for you. And if nobody else has done it yet, I’d like to be the first to give you my congratulations,’ she added rather shyly.

It seemed to Hilary that dozens of people had already congratulated them, but she smiled and thanked the little woman before continuing to unpack. After a minute or two, Hilary’s face grew pensive, and David glanced at her and said, ‘Maybe we could leave this to Mrs Curnow and go and sit down with a cup of coffee. I’m only getting in the way, anyway.’

‘You go and sit in the morning room,’ the housekeeper nodded. ‘I’ll bring it in directly. The Colonel’s out with Mr Kellaway, so you’ll be nice and quiet.’

The tray appeared soon after they had settled themselves on the sofa in the big window. Hilary poured two cups and then turned to face the view outside. David watched her for a moment, then said quietly, ‘What’s worrying you, darling? Is it the party? You’re not regretting the engagement already, I hope!’

Hilary smiled faintly at his tone. ‘Of course not. After all this time? I just want to get to our wedding! No, it’s this news from Cyprus, about EOKA. If they’re starting a campaign to drive out the British, the services are the first people they’ll attack. The RAF station, for a start.’

‘And your brother Stephen’s there.’ He took her hand. ‘Of course you’re anxious. But it may come to nothing. It’s only a few days since we heard the announcement, and the military bases will be well protected.’

‘It’s not just Stephen,’ Hilary said in a wobbly voice. ‘It’s Maddy too. You’ve never met her, but she’s such a dear, and life hasn’t always been easy for her. She and her sister Stella were bombed out twice in Portsmouth, and lost their mother and baby brother the second time, and then they were separated when their father was lost at sea. They only found each other again a few years ago – here in Burracombe. Stella came as a teacher – well, you know that already – and she was here for months before she discovered that Maddy had actually lived here as a little girl. And then Maddy lost her first fiancé, Sammy. That was a dreadful time, and Stephen thought she’d never come back to him. He’d been in love with her for years.’

‘And you’re afraid of what might happen to them both out in Cyprus. But surely if there’s any danger, the authorities will bring the families home.’

‘Maddy will never come. She’ll stay with Stephen if she possibly can.’

David sighed. He let go of her hand and picked up his cup. ‘Well, there’s nothing we can do about it. We just have to carry on with our own lives and hope for the best.’

‘I know.’ Hilary sipped her coffee. ‘And I’m sure you’re right – they’ll be well protected. As you say, it’s early days. I just hope Father doesn’t get too worried about it. The thought of losing another son …’ She shivered.

David watched her for a moment, then said carefully, ‘He seems to me to have more stamina than you give him credit for. He’s ex-military himself – he knows the dangers. You can’t protect him from those. But he also knows how to face them.’

‘And he’s getting older, and has had two heart attacks,’ she replied swiftly. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, David, I didn’t mean to snap. You’re right – he’s a strong personality and that matters more than physical strength sometimes.’ She sighed and picked up a sheet of paper. ‘We really must get on with planning this engagement party. I’ve got a list of the guests here – let’s work out the seating plan at the table. Luckily we’ve managed to keep it down to twelve. I think Father would have invited a cast of thousands if he’d had the chance.’

‘He can do that for the wedding,’ David said with a grin. ‘Let him go to town on that, darling. You’re the first daughter he’s ever been able to marry off!’

‘And the only one,’ Hilary said, spreading the list out on the table. ‘The next wedding from this house will be for someone not even born yet!’











Chapter Two













The news spread quickly through the rest of the village. Hilary was a popular figure, who had grown up at the Barton, gone away during the war to do her bit serving as an army driver, and lost her fiancé Henry, killed in action. Since then she hadn’t found anyone to marry – hadn’t looked, a lot of people reckoned – and had concentrated on managing the Burracombe estate. There had been some difficult moments when her father had insisted on appointing a manager, but Hilary and Travis Kellaway had finally shaken down well enough, and were now firm friends. The sudden appearance on the Barton doorstep of Robert Aucoin, the previously unknown son of Hilary’s elder brother Baden, who had been lost at Dunkirk, had also threatened the stability of the estate, and indeed the village, but Colonel Napier had now accepted that the boy was more French than English and likely to make his home in the country of his upbringing, and Rob’s mother, Marianne, had decided that until he finished his education, the boy should simply come for long visits during the summer holidays.

‘Another big wedding in the village,’ Edie Pettifer said to her shop full of customers that Maundy Thursday afternoon. ‘Us’ll have to get the bunting and flags out again, make a bit of a show. Not that it’ll be for a few months – maybe even next year.’

‘I wonder who she’ll get to make her frock,’ Jessie Friend said. She had popped in from the post office next door, leaving her sister Jeanie in charge. ‘Someone up in London, I dare say. One of those posh designers.’

‘Well, we can be sure it won’t be your Dottie,’ Ivy Sweet said nastily. ‘For all she thinks she could make a dress fit for a queen. Anyway, Hilary Napier won’t be wearing white, will she?’

The other customers rounded on her.

‘Not wear white? Whatever be you insinuating, Ivy Sweet? Of course her’ll wear white.’

‘Oh, come on,’ Ivy said scornfully. ‘At her age? And after those years out in Egypt? There was plenty went on there a girl wouldn’t tell her mother, wasn’t there, Val?’

Val Ferris, who had just come in and heard the last few words, stopped and stared at her. ‘Plenty went on where, Mrs Sweet?’

‘Out in Egypt. You were there too – you’d know.’

Val caught her breath. Hot colour ran up her neck into her cheeks and then quickly receded, leaving her almost white. She looked round at the other women, and Aggie Madge, who was last in the queue, put out a hand to steady her.

‘Here, Val, sit down for a minute. You look proper shook up.’ She pulled forward the chair that Edie kept by the counter and turned angrily to Ivy, the baker’s wife. ‘I don’t know what you think you’m doing, Ivy Sweet, passing remarks like that. And you’re a fine one to talk anyway, seeing as what you got up to over in Horrabridge with all they Polish airmen.’

Ivy flared up at once. ‘I never got up to nothing! You’ll take that back, Aggie Madge.’

‘And you take back what you said,’ Edie said sharply. ‘A lovely piece of news like Miss Hilary getting engaged, her that’s always been so good to us all, and you have to start dragging her name in the dirt, just to get yourself noticed. Well you can go and get yourself noticed in Tavistock in future, because you’re not welcome in this shop no more. Out you go.’

‘You can’t do that! I got all me Easter shopping to do.’

‘I can and I have.’ Edie began to come round the end of the counter, waving her arms. ‘Go on! Be off with you! I don’t want to see you in here no more.’

For a moment Ivy looked as if she were about to stand her ground, but a swift glance at the faces of the other customers showed that they were all on Edie’s side, and with a snort and a toss of her head, for all the world like an angry Dartmoor pony, she gathered up her bags and departed, slamming the shop door behind her.

The others laughed.

‘That told her, Edie,’ Aggie said admiringly. ‘Mind you, it isn’t the first time you’ve banned her, is it?’

‘No, but it’s likely to be the last,’ Edie said. She went into the back room and came out with a cup of water, which she handed to Val. ‘Here you are, my dear. Drink that, and don’t you take no notice of that woman with her spiteful tongue. I know Miss Hilary’s a special friend of yours. You’m bound to be upset hearing such nasty talk.’

Val nodded and sipped the water. ‘You’ve all heard about the engagement, then?’

‘My stars, ’tis all round the village,’ Aggie declared. ‘And a better bit of news us haven’t had in quite a while. It’s time Miss Hilary found herself a nice man to settle down with. I suppose you already knew?’ she asked artlessly, hoping to be told more, but Val just smiled.

‘Only yesterday evening. I knew it was on the cards, but that’s all. It’s lovely that she won’t have to move away. I know she was worried about leaving her father and the estate.’

‘Well, with her intended doing so well in the village, there won’t be no problem there,’ Jessie said comfortably. ‘He came to see our Billy when he had that bronchitis back in February and he were kindness itself. I know us don’t want to lose dear old Dr Latimer, but if we got to, I reckon young Dr Hunter will suit us pretty well.’

‘Dr Latimer won’t be leaving just yet,’ Val said. ‘He wants to semi-retire for a year or two, once David – Dr Hunter – is settled in. He’ll keep a lot of his patients.’ She handed the cup back to Edie. ‘Thank you, Edie. Now I’d better get on with my shopping.’

‘And so had the rest of us,’ Aggie Madge said, and turned back to the counter, consulting her list. ‘I’ll have a dozen eggs, please, Edie, and a pound of streaky bacon. I’ve got visitors in all over Easter, and they do like a proper cooked breakfast.’

Her shopping done, Val walked along the village street, pushing her baby Christopher’s pram with the groceries packed at his feet. He was just over eighteen months old now and quite capable of walking short distances, but she still used the pram for longer trips out, and it was certainly useful for shopping. Today she intended to walk down to the ford by the humpbacked bridge and let him splash in the water.

‘Hullo,’ a voice hailed her as she rounded the corner. ‘It’s Mrs Ferris, isn’t it?’

‘Oh, hullo,’ she said, pushing her hair back and smiling. ‘You’re Mr Raynor, the new teacher.’

‘That’s right. Not quite so new now – I’ve been here two terms. And this must be one of my prospective pupils.’ He smiled at Christopher. ‘But not for a while yet.’

‘No, he’s got a few more years before he starts school.’ Val pushed the pram up the slope of the bridge and stood beside him. ‘Isn’t it a lovely morning?’

‘It certainly is. And so peaceful – you’d never think there was so much unrest going on in other places. Firemen and railwaymen out on strike, no national newspapers for the past fortnight, a change in prime minister – and now the news from Cyprus.’ He shook his head and took a pipe and some tobacco from his pocket.

‘I suppose it’s always the same really,’ Val said slowly. ‘We think Burracombe is a little backwater and none of those big events affect us, but they do. Stephen and Maddy Napier are in Cyprus, so Hilary and her father must be anxious about them, and with no papers to tell us what’s happening … I know we’ve got the news on the wireless, but it isn’t quite the same somehow.’

‘The papers must certainly be annoyed not to be able to report Winston Churchill’s resignation,’ he said. ‘They would have really spread themselves over that – eighty years old, and all that he’s done and been in that time. On the other hand, it has given us all a bit more time to get on with our own lives instead of feeling we must keep up with the news. I’d far rather be here, leaning over this lovely old bridge and watching the water tumble over the rocks, than sitting indoors reading a newspaper.’

Val laughed. ‘Are you settled in here now?’ she asked. ‘Do you think you’ll stay in Burracombe?’

‘I hope so.’ He dropped a small stick into the water, and Val quickly bent to pick up one of her own. She dropped it in, and they both automatically turned to watch them emerge under the other side of the bridge. They peered over the low wall and laughed as Val’s stick came out just ahead. ‘It’s the perfect village for me, and the school is ideal. I know it’s unusual to have a male teacher for the infants, but I like small children. And I get on very well with Frances – Miss Kemp.’

‘We all like her. She’s been here so long now, she’s part of the village. And you have my little nephew in your class, too – Robin Tozer.’

‘That’s right, I do.’ He found another stick and dropped it into the water. ‘Nice little chap, and quite bright. He’s got a sister, hasn’t he, a little older than your boy here?’

‘Heather.’ Val debated whether to tell him that Heather’s twin had died when they were in their pram together, but decided not to mention it. That was for Joanna or Tom to do if they chose, but Joanna didn’t seem inclined to talk about it much to anyone. ‘I suppose you only really get to know the people whose children are at school,’ she observed. ‘But as time goes on, you’ll meet pretty well everyone. There’s always something going on.’

She turned and unclipped Christopher’s reins from the side of the pram, then lifted him to the ground. ‘We came down for a ­paddle. He was too young last year and we’ve been looking forward to a splash, haven’t we, Chris?’

‘Isn’t the water rather cold?’ James Raynor asked dubiously, and Val smiled.

‘He’s got his wellingtons on. Show Mr Raynor your boots, Chris.’ The toddler lifted his feet proudly, then scurried down the other side of the bridge to where the ford sloped into the water. Val ran after him, catching him just before he ran headlong into the stream.

James Raynor watched them for a few minutes, puffing on his pipe, then gave them a wave and turned to walk back towards the village.



James had spoken the truth when he said that Burracombe was the perfect village for him. After a war he had never wanted to go into robbed him of his wife and his home in the London Blitz, and part of his leg in action, he had felt he needed a complete change of direction and had given up his former work as a stockbroker and trained as a teacher. He had worked for some time as assistant house­master at a boys’ prep school, and then, finding the hours of duty too long and demanding, had applied for the position at Burra­combe. He knew that the school governors – Basil Harvey, the vicar, Colonel Napier and the elderly Constance Bellamy – had been doubtful at first about his appointment, but they’d given him a chance and he’d taken it. Now he hoped he would never have to leave. There was far too much to keep him here.

He reached the cottage he had been renting and was now in the process of buying, to find the school’s headmistress, Miss Kemp, just turning away from the door.

‘Hullo, Frances,’ he said in surprise. ‘I didn’t expect to see you this morning.’

‘I’ve just come back from Tavistock. I wondered if you’d like to come for supper tomorrow. It’ll be fish, of course.’

‘Of course. Thank you – I’d like to very much. And since you’re here now, why not come in for a cup of coffee?’ He unlocked the door. ‘I’ve just been down to the bridge. I met Mrs Ferris there with her little boy.’

‘Oh yes – Val. She’s a nice young woman. You know her husband is Luke Ferris, the artist, don’t you?’ She followed him in.

‘I do. I’ve seen some of his paintings in London. He’s quite a rising star. But didn’t someone tell me he teaches art in Tavistock?’

‘He did for a while, but he’s left now to concentrate on his painting. It means he has to go away quite often, but at least they’re still living here. I think Alice Tozer – Val’s mother – was afraid for a while they’d move away.’

‘It does happen.’ He led the way into the kitchen and put a kettle on the bandy-legged enamel gas stove. As in most of the cottages, the kitchen was large enough to be a dining room as well – in fact it had to be if you wanted the other downstairs room to be a sitting room. Some villagers still kept that room as their parlour, for formal occasions such as Sunday tea and Christmas, and lived most of their time in the one back room, but James had seen no point in depriving himself of space when there was so little to start with. ‘Do you want to sit out here or go into the other room?’

‘Oh, here, I think. You’ve made it very cosy.’ Frances looked out through the stable door into the small back garden. ‘In fact it’s quite warm enough to sit outside. Look at all your bulbs! Crocuses and those lovely tiny daffodils, all mixed up together – they’re a real tapestry of colour.’

‘They’ve done very well, but they’re not all mine – most would have been planted by the previous tenants. I didn’t know what might come up so I poked a few more in here and there and it’s turned into quite a display.’ He carried a couple of cushions out and dropped them on an old wooden bench. ‘I didn’t really think they’d have much chance, being planted so late.’ He went back indoors.

‘Plants want to grow,’ Frances said as he came out again with a tray and set it on a rather rickety little table. ‘Give them the right conditions and they’ll do their best to please.’ She accepted her cup. ‘And when you think about it, that applies to children as well.’

‘It does. Plant them in the right soil of a good home, with plenty of nourishment for their bodies and their brains, and they’ll ­flourish.’ He raised his eyebrows at her. ‘We’re being very philosophical this morning!’

‘It’s because it’s Easter. It’s a time for reflection.’ She paused for a moment, her head turned away, then looked back and asked more brightly, ‘And what are you doing for the weekend? Will you be going away?’

James shook his head. ‘Sunday’s a busy day for the church choir, and we’ve got a wedding to sing for on Monday. Basil wouldn’t agree to a Saturday wedding, of course, not during Holy Week.’

Frances Kemp nodded. ‘It’s not usual for a wedding to be held then,’ she agreed. ‘But Felix Copley held one last year, for Patsy Shillabeer and Terry Pettifer. It was rather a hurried affair, and only the closest members of the two families were there. Her father more or less showed her the door.’

‘A shotgun wedding?’

‘Not exactly, and not a tactful simile when you think what happened to Percy Shillabeer last November, on the night the baby was born. You’ll remember that – it was the evening of Mrs Warren’s Extrava­­ganza.’ She gave him an apologetic glance. ‘Don’t be embarrassed – it’s not your fault. It’s all too easy to put one’s foot in it when coming into a new community. I still do it myself, after all these years.’

‘I do remember. Tragic.’ They were both silent for a moment or two, sipping their coffee, then he said more briskly, ‘As for how I plan to spend Easter, I have some news – if all goes well, I’ll be painting and decorating.’

Frances lifted her head. ‘Really? The purchase has gone through, then?’

‘Completion on Wednesday.’ He beamed at her. ‘I shall be a bona fide local!’

Frances laughed. ‘I doubt it! You need to be at least third gener­a­tion before you can claim that. But I’m sure everyone will be very pleased to know you’re staying. The school has had too many upheavals lately.’

‘I hope I’ll be appreciated for my other qualities too,’ he said with a sidelong smile. ‘That’s if you can think of any.’

Frances gave him a headmistressy sort of look. ‘I’m not sure if you think fishing for compliments is one of them,’ she remarked drily. ‘But I dare say if we look hard enough we’ll find others.’

James chuckled. ‘I should have known I wouldn’t fool you! Well, I’ll do my best to be a credit both to the school and to the village. I like it here and I want to stay. I want it to be my home.’

Frances smiled and reached out her hand. ‘That’s exactly how I feel about Burracombe too. I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather live. I’m very pleased that you feel the same.’

They touched hands for a moment and then looked away, neither knowing quite what to say next. Then she smiled again and stood up, saying, ‘I told you Easter makes us reflective! Thank you for the coffee, James. I’ll see you tomorrow evening. About seven?’

‘I’ll be there.’

He saw her back through the cottage and then returned to the little garden to collect the tray. He picked it up and stood for a moment gazing at the tapestry of flowers.

Yes, he said to himself. Burracombe is home.











Chapter Three















‘And did you get your broad beans planted on Friday as usual, Jacob?’ Basil Ha