The Winter That Made Us

by Kate Field

Genres: Contemporary Romance; Fall & winter reads

Synopsis

When Tess finds herself unexpectedly alone and back in Ribblemill, the childhood village she thought she'd escaped, she's sure she can survive a temporary stay. Determined to throw herself into village life, Tess starts a choir and gathers a team of volunteers to restore the walled garden at Ramblings, the local stately home. Everything could be perfect, if she weren't sharing a cottage and a cat with prickly Noah... As winter approaches, Tess finds herself putting down her own roots as fast as she's pulling them up in the garden. But the ghosts of her past hover close by...

Release date: September 20, 2018

Publisher: Accent Press

Print pages: 284

Sample

Chapter 1

It was still the prettiest grave in the churchyard. Clusters of brilliantly coloured flowers lay at the foot of the sculpted slate headstone, covering the tiny plot: zinnias, Tess thought, stroking the velvet petals that had the texture of the Fuzzy Felt she had played with as a child. The vibrant red, purple and orange blooms looked as if they had been plucked from the greenhouse that morning and brought straight here.

Tess knelt on the neatly mown grass by the side of the grave. The blunt tips of the grass blades scratched her bare knees.

‘Hello. It’s me,’ she whispered, rubbing her hand over the curved edge of the memorial stone. ‘I’m back. Have you missed me?’

No answer, not even the rustle of a breeze among the horse chestnut leaves to give the illusion of a response today. Tess ran her finger over the outline of the bird that was carved into the slate, tracing along its outstretched wings.

‘Everything has gone wrong,’ she said. ‘I tried. I tried as hard as I could, but it wasn’t enough. I’ve failed. And I’m so sorry that I’ve let us both down. You wouldn’t have messed up like this, would you? She’s going to be so disappointed. I can’t tell her, I really can’t. Not yet. You understand, don’t you? I wish you were here. I need you.’

The clouds that had hesitated all day let fall a soft drizzle, and Tess leant against the headstone.

‘Damn it! Why can’t you work properly?’

A few graves away, a man was bending over, one hand resting on the head of a granite angel, the other thumping the side of his knee. He looked up as Tess shifted, and despite the years that had passed, she thought she recognised him as one of the Thornton brothers – three rowdy boys as indistinguishable as triplets – who had shared her time at the village primary school. But on second glance, she wondered if she was wrong: the Thorntons had been full of life and laughter, first in line for any mischief, whereas this man’s expression suggested that life had abandoned him a long time ago.

Tess wiped her face, hoping the rain had camouflaged her tears. The man straightened up and she pressed further against the headstone when he stared at her and hesitated, as if deciding whether to approach. But he turned and walked off in the opposite direction, a faint limp evident in his right leg.

Tess stood up, brushed the grass clippings from her legs, and watched until long after he had disappeared from view. Then she followed him through the graveyard and towards the village, heading home.

***

Ten minutes later, Tess hovered on the doorstep of the detached stone house that had been her childhood home, down a quiet lane leading off the Ribblemill village green. Nothing had changed since her last visit, many months ago – or in any of the years before that, as far back as she could remember. The same curtains hung at each window, the colour along the edges faded almost to white; the same ornaments stood on the windowsills, trapping the house in another decade; the same air of sorrow held the stones together as surely as the lime mortar.

She took a deep breath, bracing herself for what lay inside, gave the knocker a cursory tap and opened the door.

‘Hello, Mum. It’s Tess!’

She paused at the mirror in the hall, to make sure that the usual Tess Bailey image was in place, despite her earlier tears: hair – perfect blonde waves, falling across her shoulders; dress – pretty and floral, in the style she had worn since childhood; smile – absent, but she could soon fix that. She could rustle up a convincing smile for any occasion. She dredged up her biggest one and pushed open the living room door.

An explosive welcome greeted her, as the room came alive with smiles and exclamations of surprise. The room was busier than Tess had expected. Her mum, Grace, was sitting in her armchair in front of a blazing gas fire, despite the humid September weather, while three of her friends perspired at the edges of the room.

‘Hello, everyone!’ Tess walked forward and kissed each of the ladies in turn – Joyce, Ruth and Marjorie, Grace’s most loyal friends. ‘How lovely to see you all!’

‘Oh Tess, aren’t you pretty as a picture!’ Marjorie held her hand and looked Tess up and down. ‘Grace didn’t tell us you were coming today.’

‘No, it’s a surprise visit. Isn’t that fun?’ Tess bent down to kiss her mum’s cheek, ignoring Ruth’s raised eyebrows. Grace didn’t like surprises. Everyone knew that. ‘Hello, Mum. How are you?’

One day, Tess sometimes dreamt, she would ask the question and her mum would smile – maybe even laugh – tell her off for asking a silly question, and say that she was perfectly well. But not today. Today her hands fluttered, the worry lines on her face deepened and she stared at Tess as if … well, as if she were a ghost was the thought that flew through Tess’s head. But that wasn’t right, was it? A ghost would probably have been smothered in smiles.

‘Tess?’ Grace said, leaning forward in her chair. ‘Why are you here? What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing! How could anything be wrong when I’m here to see you and Dad?’ Tess perched on the arm of Grace’s chair. ‘Although I do have some news…’

‘Not bad news?’ For a moment, the trembling in Grace’s hands increased, then she reached out and touched Tess’s arm, brightness lighting her face. ‘Oh Tess. Is it a baby? Are you having a baby at last?’

‘No, I’m not.’ Such simple words, but it was hard for Tess to keep her smile in place when a hundred tonnes of misery lay behind them. The brightness in Grace’s face vanished and there was nothing Tess could say to bring it back. ‘It’s…’

‘Where’s Tim?’ Grace peered past Tess towards the door. ‘It’s so long since we’ve seen him. Is he bringing your bags in?’

‘Tim hasn’t come with me this time.’ Tess flashed a smile around the room, but turned away quickly from Ruth’s curious gaze. She hadn’t expected an audience for this announcement.

‘No Tim? But he didn’t come last time, either. Oh, Tess, he’s not ill again, is he?’

‘Don’t worry. He’s well.’ Tess grasped her mum’s hands and held them tight. ‘In fact, the news is about him.’ She paused. She could do this; she’d rehearsed it often enough in her head. How hard could it be to string a few words together and let them out into the world? It was sound, that was all – gone as soon as it was released. ‘Tim has been offered the most wonderful job. He’s going to be Vice President of Construction on a prestigious new development. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, and he’s going to be paid a fortune. Isn’t that brilliant?’

Impressed ‘oohs!’ echoed around the room.

‘Vice President!’ repeated Marjorie. ‘That sounds important.’

‘Will he still be working in London?’ Joyce asked. ‘No chance of tempting you back up north?’ ‘Actually…’

Despite Tess’s brightest voice, Grace glanced at her with eyes already seeing trouble.

‘…it’s an even bigger opportunity than London. He’s going to be working in Dubai. How amazing is that?’

‘Tess, you can’t move to Dubai!’ Grace’s eyes were damp. ‘It’s too far away. I’ve already lost Max…’

‘Nonsense,’ Ruth said. ‘Max is only in Australia. And it can’t take much longer to fly to Dubai than it does to drive to Sussex.’

They all knew it was an academic point. Grace never left Ribblemill – rarely even left the house. She had never visited Tess’s home in Sussex and it would make no difference if she lived ten minutes or ten hours away.

‘It will do you good to have some sunshine, Tess. Enjoy a bit of glamour while you can. Learn to belly-dance, then come back and teach us! I’ve always fancied a bit of exotic dancing. I’m not short of wobble.’

Everyone except Grace laughed. Tess took advantage of the distraction to slip out more news.

‘Actually, I’m not going. It’s a fixed-term contract for a year and it will be long hours, six days a week, so…’

‘But how can you not go? Tim’s your husband.’ And, as if she thought that Tess needed reminding of the fact, Grace picked up one of the photo frames from the shelf at her side and waved it.

‘Ah, that was a grand day,’ Marjorie said. ‘The village will never see a wedding to match it. That horse-drawn carriage was something else. A real fairytale come true!’

Tess took the picture from Grace’s hand. It showed her and Tim on their wedding day, looking the image of a model couple: matching blond heads leaning close together, matching broad smiles asserting their happiness and good fortune. It had been an extraordinary day – everyone had said so – the archetypal romantic day, exactly as her mum had planned it after wishing for so long to see Tess married. Tess returned the photo frame to the shelf.

‘But how will you manage without him?’ Grace asked.

‘She’ll manage perfectly well,’ Ruth said, before Tess could answer – before she could begin to think of any possible answer. ‘Just like all those wives did whose husbands went off to war. Better, in fact, as at least she knows he’s coming back.’

Ruth gave Tess an encouraging smile. She beamed back, hoping it was convincing.

‘Won’t you be lonely, living on your own?’

‘That’s the other bit of exciting news!’ Tess squeezed Grace’s hands. ‘I was worried about that too, so I’m taking a sabbatical from work and I’m going to stay up here for a while. I can see you and Dad all the time. You’ll like that, won’t you?’

‘Oh Tess, it will be lovely to have you back in your old room.’

Tess pictured the room upstairs: a riot of pink prettiness left over from her childhood, with twin beds separated by a bedside cabinet, fixed to the wall so the beds couldn’t be pushed together, as she and Tim had discovered on his first visit, amid a great deal of muffled giggling. A year cooped up in that room? No. That had never been part of the plan. She glanced at Ruth.

‘She needs her own space,’ Ruth said. ‘Tim’s sure to be allowed some visits home and they’ll want some privacy. A young couple can’t have much fun under the same roof as the parents.’

‘Mel lets out rooms in the No Name,’ Joyce suggested. Tess felt Grace shudder at the thought of her staying in the village pub. ‘Or Brenda Thornton takes in lodgers, doesn’t she? Although I think she’s full at the moment, especially now Noah has turned up.’

Noah? That was the middle brother, Tess remembered, wondering if he had been the man in the churchyard.

‘I reckon I know the perfect place,’ Ruth said. She checked her watch. ‘If we go now, we’ll catch Cassie when the library closes. You could be the answer to each other’s prayers.’

***

Tess took one look at Cobweb Cottage and knew that she had to live there. It stood adrift from any other building, halfway down a track through the grounds of Ramblings, a large mansion on the edge of Ribblemill village. In many ways, it was an odd-looking house: although it followed a traditional pattern of having a window on either side of the front door, it was wider on the right than on the left, as if the constant battering of the Lancashire wind had knocked it out of symmetry. But the stones gleamed between the freshly pointed mortar; new oak frames lined the windows; the carved front door with the iron knocker both welcomed the visitor and guarded the occupants inside. It was a warm and happy building, as far removed as it was possible to be from the house she had left only a few minutes ago. It was perfect.

First impressions based on the outside were more than matched by a tour of the cottage. The renovations were so recently completed that the smell of paint still hung in the air. The layout was simple but well-planned: a living room and dining room lay on either side of the central hall, with a large kitchen across the width of the house at the back. Upstairs were two double bedrooms, each with an en-suite bathroom that had been created from what had once been the third bedroom.

It wildly exceeded Tess’s expectations of where she might find to live and the best news was that it was available for a peppercorn rent. Ruth worked as the housekeeper at Ramblings and had introduced Tess to Cassie, one of the trustees of the charitable trust that ran the Ramblings estate. Cassie explained that one of the aims of the trust was to provide affordable accommodation for those in need: young people from the village who were looking for a first home; former Ribblemillers who were returning to the village, and anyone who needed temporary refuge and had no other place to go. Cobweb Cottage was the first house on the estate to be renovated, and Cassie was keen to have someone test out the accommodation and give feedback ready for the next phase of work.

Tess was gazing out of the window of the thinner of the two bedrooms – her favourite because of the old-fashioned fireplace and the en-suite bath, despite its smaller size – when she heard the front door open and male laughter drift up the stairs. Far from showing concern, Cassie smiled in delight and dashed off downstairs, Tess trailing behind. She followed the voices to the living room, where she found Cassie holding hands with a handsome, dark-haired man. He looked vaguely familiar and so did the fourth person present. It was the Thornton brother again and though he was lurking in the corner, somehow, with his broad rugby player’s build, he seemed to fill the entire room.

‘Tess, this is Barney,’ Cassie said. He needed no more introduction: Tess had heard a great deal about Barney in the short walk from Ramblings to Cobweb Cottage.

‘Tess?’ Barney smiled. ‘It’s Tess Green, isn’t it? You were at the village primary, a year or so below us.’

‘It’s Tess Bailey now, but yes, I was. How lovely to meet you again!’

‘You’ll already know Noah. Noah, you remember Tess?’

Noah looked her up and down. ‘Vaguely.’ His expression gave nothing away; his voice suggested he didn’t welcome the memory or the reunion.

‘Noah wants to rent the cottage,’ Barney said to Cassie. ‘I was about to show him around. We might have our first tenant.’

‘But I’ve just shown it to Tess…’

‘And it’s gorgeous!’ Tess interrupted. ‘You’ve done such a brilliant job with the renovations. I’d love to rent it. Sorry,’ she added, smiling in Noah’s direction.

‘Don’t be. I already agreed to take it ten minutes ago.’

‘Without even seeing it?’

He shrugged. ‘Anything beats sleeping on the sofa, in a house that’s busier than Old Trafford.’

Tess wasn’t so sure: he hadn’t seen the twin room at her parents’ house.

‘How long will it be before you have another property ready?’ she asked. Perhaps Noah could hang on for two or three weeks and go elsewhere. He clearly had no attachment to Cobweb Cottage, whereas Tess had already mentally moved in and made it her home.

‘The stables apartments won’t be finished until New Year, will they Cassie?’

‘No, the builders only started a couple of weeks ago, when they finished here.’ Cassie turned to Tess, looking anxious. ‘I’m sorry. I know you need somewhere quickly.’ She glanced between Tess and Noah. ‘I appreciate it’s not ideal, but would you consider sharing? You could both have your own bedroom, bathroom and sitting room if we convert the dining room. That’s more than many people have. It’s more than I once had. And it’s not as if you’re strangers.’

Tess’s instinct was to refuse – it was an impossible idea, wasn’t it? She looked over to the corner of the room, expecting to see the same reaction from Noah, but his face was blank, and his eyes – so pale they almost looked like clear glass – were equally unreadable. He wasn’t a stranger, no, not in a technical sense, but she hadn’t seen him for years and he wasn’t the sort of man she was familiar with. Tim was slight, polite, easygoing and safe. Noah looked like he shouldn’t be allowed out without a lead and muzzle. Grace would hate him: he was exactly the sort of man she had warned Tess against when she was growing up, the type of man who was unpredictable and dangerous. But what was the alternative? This was a flat-share for a few months, not a lifelong commitment. How bad could it be?

‘That’s a brilliant idea!’ she said. She smiled at Noah. He didn’t react. ‘There’s loads of space here. We’ll hardly see each other!’

Finally, he loomed forward out of the corner, suffocating the space in the room.

‘I hope that’s a promise,’ he said.

Chapter 2

Tess took a shortcut through the woods surrounding Ramblings to approach the back of Cobweb Cottage. It was moving-in day at last – only a week after she had returned to Ribblemill, but a week of being worried over by her mum was enough to make a house-share with Jack the Ripper, never mind Noah Thornton, seem attractive. She hadn’t seen him during the week, but knew from Cassie that they were both moving in today, now the house was furnished, so she had decided to arrive early to stake her claim on the bedroom with the en-suite bath.

She rounded the side of the house and immediately ran into Noah. He was leaning against the stone lintel beneath one of the front windows, eyes closed, smoking.

‘What are you doing here?’ Tess asked. She hadn’t put him down as an early bird. Far from it – on the two occasions she’d seen him recently, he had worn the shaggy look of someone who had only reluctantly rolled out of bed.

He opened his eyes, although it made little difference: there was no life or expression in them. ‘Moving in.’

‘You’re keen!’ Tess smiled. She’d forgotten to do it before, expecting to be alone. ‘Or are you being sneaky and picking the best rooms before I arrive?’

‘Not my style.’ He blew out a mouthful of smoke. ‘Have whichever you want.’

‘Okay. Thanks.’ It wasn’t a satisfying victory, especially when the moral one was his – and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew it. The wind threw a handful of smoke in her face. ‘You won’t be doing that inside, will you?’ She waved her hand towards his cigarette.

‘House rules already?’ He flicked the stub of the cigarette onto the track outside the house and lurched forward to crush it under his foot. ‘I’ll do you a trade. I won’t smoke inside, if you don’t light any of those stupid smelly candles.’

‘Fine with me!’ Irritating man. That would ruin her soaks in the bath. How did he know that she loved scented candles? ‘Shall we go in?’

They reached the front door at the same time, keys at the ready.

Tess laughed. ‘After you.’

Noah unlocked the door and pushed it open. As they hesitated on the doorstep, a memory shot Tess in the chest, of moving into Tim’s flat, brimming with hope that it was the start of a long future together, that this was the bond she had been looking for through her whole life. It had been exactly a month after he had whisked her away for a surprise weekend in Rome, where he had proposed on bended knee by the side of the Trevi fountain, to the delight of the many tourists and locals passing by. She had telephoned her mum at once, heedless of the anxiety an unscheduled call would bring, certain that the news would make her happy. It had been the first time Tess had shared a home with a man, other than her father. She had never expected to be doing it with anyone else.

‘Changed your mind?’

The image of Tim – stylish, well-groomed, cultured – shattered into a thousand pieces and was replaced by the blunt reality of Noah – muddy hiking boots, leather jacket and … Earthy, was the word that popped into her head. Not in a smelly way – she was close enough to catch the clean, salty sea smell wafting off him, notwithstanding the smoking – but there was something raw and natural about him, that made her think he could have sprung up through the soil that morning, among the trees, and lumbered straight over here. How did you handle a man like that? He was well outside Tess’s experience. She laughed, hoping her usual tactics would prove effective.

‘Of course not! I’ve been looking forward to it!’

She squeezed past him, careful not to make any contact, and entered Cobweb Cottage. It had been an empty shell a week ago, when she had first viewed it: now it was a warm and welcoming home. The wooden hall floor gleamed as it led the way straight through the house to the kitchen; a row of pegs behind the door waited patiently for coats; an oak console table held a jug overflowing with flowers and greenery that Tess guessed had been picked in the estate grounds. There was a card on the table in front of the flowers. Tess picked it up.

‘Welcome to your new home!’ it said on the front. Neat handwriting inside read, ‘To Tess and Noah. Wishing you every happiness at Cobweb Cottage. Love Cassie and Barney.’

‘Isn’t that lovely!’ Tess turned to show it to Noah, but found he was already peering over her shoulder. He grunted. It didn’t sound an enthusiastic grunt, but Tess smiled anyway. ‘Shall we explore?’

The larger room to the right of the hall was modern and bright, decorated with a squashy sofa and chair and a shaggy rug in neutral colours. A TV stood on a light oak cabinet and a small bookcase was already half-filled with a diverse selection of books.

‘This is a great place to relax, isn’t it?’ No answer. Perhaps Noah didn’t do relaxation? Tess smiled more brightly and crossed the hall to open the door to the smaller room that had originally been intended as the dining room.

The contrast was striking. The first room had been modern and minimalist. This one had been filled with what looked like the overspill from an antiques shop. A chaise longue with clawed feet and duck egg damask fabric lay along one wall, positively begging someone to lie on it with a book. Two faded chintz armchairs huddled close to the fireplace, an ornate mahogany table nestling between them. A matching cabinet in the corner held a small portable television. Everything looked old and well used, but pretty. Tess loved it.

She turned to Noah. He was out of place here, like a giant in a doll’s house. Still, she shouldn’t judge his tastes.

‘Any preference?’ she asked. He shrugged.

‘You choose. I’ll take whichever you don’t want.’

‘Great! Then I’ll have this one and you can have the bigger one.’

He nodded and walked out. Tess heard the heavy thud of his footsteps ascending the stairs and ran after him, catching him up on the landing. Noah peered into the smaller bedroom. It was neutral again in here: a double bed, plain white wardrobe and a biscuit-coloured carpet that ran across the hall and into the other bedroom. Tess hoped he wasn’t about to go in: this was her bedroom.

‘I’ll take this one, as I have the larger room downstairs,’ Noah said.

‘No!’

He looked at her, his gaze flicking over her face as if her thoughts were laid out in block capitals for all to see.

Tess laughed. ‘I mean, that’s kind of you to offer, but there’s no need. You’re bigger than me and it makes sense for us to have one half of the house each, doesn’t it?’ His silence was more effective than a dozen probing questions. She smiled. ‘Would you mind if I have this one? This bathroom has the bath…’

Noah raised his arm, as if blocking any further information she might be tempted to give.

‘Have it. Have whatever you want. All I want is peace and quiet.’

He turned and entered the other bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him. Tess flopped onto the bed in her room and sighed. Things could only get better, couldn’t they?

***

The first person to disturb the peace and quiet was Tess’s father, Len, who drove Tess’s car to Cobweb Cottage and helped unload the boxes she had brought from Sussex.

‘You wouldn’t know this place was here, would you?’ he said, gazing up at the cottage. ‘Are you sure you won’t be lonely tucked out here on your own, love? It would give me the willies. Imagine what will be creeping around these trees at night.’

‘I’m not scared of a few owls and badgers. And I’m not on my own, am I?’

‘Of course – the Thornton boy.’ Her dad laughed. ‘I hope he’s not going to creep about at night either. I take it he knows you’re spoken for?’

Luckily Len barged the front door open with his shoulder and didn’t wait for an answer – because what answer could Tess have given? That she hadn’t yet exchanged any proper conversation with the man she was now sharing a house with, never mind one as intimate as discussing her relationship status – or his, come to that. What was his situation? Might he be entertaining a girlfriend – or girlfriends – on a regular basis? Perhaps Tess ought to have put in her own request for peace and quiet.

‘Speak of the devil,’ Len said, as he entered th. . .