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Chapter 14

Ten minutes later, Alyssa was marching towards the small town of Hartglove, the darkening night air fresh against her skin. Being unapologetically chilly, she felt like this time of year suited her. It was the season where you could huddle under extra layers, rather than being expected to strip things off. Because who wanted to feel exposed? She pulled up the hood of her parka, silently hoping it would help her to dodge being recognised as either Beryl or Alyssa – though she was beginning to realise the locals were as astute as ever. Or maybe it had been absurd to think a bit of hair dye and twelve years could change things?

She checked the time on her step-count watch, which she’d been gifted in return for social media praise, when she’d posted, ‘Couples that exercise together, stay together.’ She wasn’t sure if that was true, but she found the watch judgemental and annoying – like a constant reminder she hadn’t done enough, and she should get a bloody move on.

Hartglove had one main shopping street, which was called Apple Blossom Lane on account of the apple trees that lined it. In the spring their boughs almost drooped under the weight of apple blossom, which she seemed to remember filled the air with a sweet, floral smell. Then in autumn, the apples were ready, and the residents got busy making everything from toffee apple pies to flaky pastry turnovers, storing the rest to use over the year. Though right then, the trees would be dormant for winter, and no one would be bothering them. She could relate to that.

If her old town hadn’t changed, there wouldn’t be much open at this time, other than the convenience shop and The Rat and Raspberry pub. The latter was the hub of all gossip and was best avoided like smallpox.

Yes, she would be in and out quickly. She’d had quite enough blasts from the past for one day.

‘Cooee, Beryl!’

Oh God. Did people even say cooee anymore? And who was that? It sounded a bit like Mrs Halfpenny, who she’d managed to avoid talking to in the field earlier – although she was not stopping to find out now.

Alyssa dipped her head and moved along the street, noticing that the apple trees were still there, though they’d grown since she’d last seen them. And either their branches were keen to prod her to say hello, or someone needed to prune the things. Ouch. She ducked further as she passed the pub’s windows, ignoring the toasty glow from inside and the delicious smells of cooking. Her hand moved to her stomach as it rumbled. The shop would sell perfectly good microwave mash. And there it was, with the same old sign, its green paint flaking. She paused for a moment, feeling slightly dizzy as though she’d whizzed back in time. But that was silly.

‘It’s just a pile of bricks.’ As she took a deep breath and stepped into the shop, the same old bell ringing to announce her arrival, she wondered who owned it now, because she wasn’t in the mood for awkward conversations. At least it probably wasn’t Mrs Halfpenny, if she’d just heard her in the street and she had possibly now retired. She grabbed a basket and pulled out her list, aiming to gather what she needed and get out of there.

If only it wasn’t such a confusing maze of stuff, with no obvious order.

She noticed with a slight pang that the sweet counter was no longer there. An image of herself and Sylvie slipped into her mind. About eight years old and wearing summer dresses. Heads together, whispering something about fizzy cola bottles and gummy bears. Alyssa shook her head. It was good that the enticing array of sugar had gone. Sweets rotted your teeth, much like friendships gone bad ruined your soul. It would be best if she stopped thinking about them. She just prayed she didn’t bump into her cheating ex-best-friend anytime soon.

‘You OK?’ A woman’s head popped around the end of the aisle, making her jump. She was a bit younger than Alyssa and wore a green apron with Halfpenny’s embroidered across the top. ‘Let me know if there’s anything you can’t find. It can be a bit puzzling.’ Her forehead crinkled. ‘Do I know you?’

Alyssa shook her head.

‘Oh, you have a list. Let me save you the headache.’

Before Alyssa could stop her, the woman was commandeering her piece of paper, introducing herself as Jess Halfpenny, and escorting her around the shelves. In London, Alyssa would have bristled at that level of interference – not that anyone in London would get so involved in her shopping. But it had been a long day, and it was surprisingly nice to have someone lend a hand. Warm joy at being useful seemed to exude from the small woman, who wore her dark hair in plaited pigtails tied with green ribbons. It was impossible not to defrost a little.

‘This is quite a quirky list. Pillow. Mouse cage. Ready meals for one. Where are you staying?’ Jess cocked her head.

‘Erm.’ Alyssa didn’t like sharing too much, but Jess didn’t seem like a psychopath, and who would know where one random barn was? ‘The Cow Shed.’

‘Up at the old farm?’ Jess pointed in its general direction. ‘Then you must be the Alyssa Heart everyone’s talking about. Though didn’t your name used to be …’ Her voice trailed off as she seemed to realise she was butting in. ‘Sorry. I’ve only been in Hartglove for six months, and I’m already becoming a gossip. Small-town life, hey?’

Didn’t Alyssa know it. She smiled politely.

‘Anyway, you sure The Cow Shed even has a microwave? The last people who stayed there mostly ate at The Rat and Raspberry, because even the oven’s temperamental. And isn’t there pretty much no furniture, apart from white goods and a bed?’

Wow. Alyssa felt her eyes widen. There really were no secrets around here. The woman would be telling her the colour of her cloths and curtains next. Judging by Jess trying to wedge a bundle of hand towels into the basket, perhaps there weren’t any.

‘Don’t worry, the prices are cheaper than what you’ll be used to, or you can start a tab?’ Jess offered, moving towards the till.

‘I’m fine without a tab,’ said Alyssa. ‘Not sure how long I’m staying.’ Her lease might be for six months, but she wasn’t convinced she could stick six days, if Devan was going to be in too many of them. And she hated to feel indebted.

Her eyes landed on the counter, where Jess had apparently been crafting with various balls of cord. Macramé. There were piles of multi-coloured hearts.

Jess’s face lifted as she saw Alyssa taking them in. ‘I’m making bunting. More Love in Hartglove, as my nan keeps saying. I could make some for you? I also do lampshades, coasters. Ooh, and some very nifty plant hangers.’

Macramé plant hangers? What were the chances?

‘No! Thank you.’ None of this was a sign she should fill her perfectly reasonable accommodation with homely bits and bobs made of string. She was here for business. Talking of which … ‘Are you finding the relationship situation a struggle in this town?’

‘Is that a pickup line?’ Jess joked, giving Alyssa a playful nudge.

She wasn’t used to friendly nudging and tried to hide her shock. ‘I just meant, I should probably leave some business cards, in case people need me.’ Alyssa pointed to her handbag, reluctant to pull any out, in case Jess wanted to become her client and started trying to foist friendship and macramé décor onto her. She was just about dealing with having a mouse to care about.