‘I’ll say it is. If you are okay about spending the cash, let’s save me and my arm for more meaningful tasks.’ He was relieved, but also concerned about some cowboy turning up and charging them a fortune for a crap job. However, this wasn’t the time to mention it. Her good mood seemed to have returned, and he wanted it to continue. He smiled. ‘Let’s take the rest of the day off. It’s still early. We can go and see your builders’ merchant, then, if the weather clears, drive up to Gibraltar Point for a walk in the sea air. Or what about lunch in Stamford, nose around the shops, then on to Rutland Water?’
She didn’t answer him.
‘Okay, then what about a wander around some garden centres, get some of the plants you want for the garden, then go on to Skeggie? I’ll buy you a candy floss if you’re good.’
A smile slowly crept across her face. ‘And a plate of cockles?’
‘Deal!’
* * *
The day out did them both good, and by nightfall they were relaxed and happy.
Kate seemed to have left behind her mission to be rid of Angela’s fairies and had got some of her projects into a better perspective. She had spoken to someone at the builders’ yard, who had said he would call the following morning.
Will found some citronella candles and they took them out to the garden. They sat together on the seat overlooking Whisper Fen, beneath a sky filled with a million stars, sipping glasses of Sancerre. All the recent worries and tantrums seemed to have slipped away, leaving them peaceful and at ease.
‘This is beautiful,’ Kate breathed softly. ‘I wonder if old Mrs Holland used to sit out here and watch the night sky over the marshes? I bet she misses all this now she’s in a nursing home.’
Will looked doubtful. ‘It was her home all her life, but I don’t suppose she had much love for the marshes.’ As soon as he’d uttered them, he regretted his words.
‘Why? To have lived here all that time surely you’d have to love it?’
A tiny stream of disquiet trickled between his shoulder blades. He hadn’t intended to mention the missing child. ‘I heard there was a bit of a family tragedy years ago.’ He glanced towards the fen. ‘Someone got lost out there.’
‘You never said! How come I don’t know about it? Come on, you tight-lipped copper, spill the beans.’ Her tone was still light, however. Will knew that the story would come out sometime, so maybe it was best that it came from him. He told her what he knew about the child who had gone missing.
She stared into her glass, watching the candlelight glimmer in the pale sparkling liquid and said quietly, ‘So her daughter died out there. No wonder the old lady didn’t want children around.’
‘She disappeared, Kate. There is a difference. They never found her. It is supposition that she died.’
‘All that rigmarole about the well and the dangerous outbuildings was a cover. Her real worry was the fen.’
‘I should think so.’
‘Whatever, she was right. This place isn’t suitable for children. In fact, I don’t think Holland House likes children at all.’
Will was well aware of how sensitive Kate was, but her words caused him to shiver. How could a house — mere bricks and mortar — have feelings? He was a down-to-earth plod, and such fancies were beyond his comprehension. He admired her fairy paintings but to him, they were nothing more than play. He changed the subject quickly. Sometimes her odd fancies gave him the creeps.
‘Have you seen that weird guy Grove again? You know, the stinky bloke that lives in that ramshackle old cottage down by the sluice?’
She raised an eyebrow, evidently amused at his too obvious change of tack. ‘Once, although I hadn’t meant to after you warned me about him.’ She looked at him enquiringly. ‘Are you sure you’re right about him, Will? Sure, he’s not very chatty, but he does love the marsh. And there’s nothing he doesn’t know about all the birds that pass through here, even though he doesn’t come from this area.’
Though annoyed that she had ignored his warning, Will was loath to spoil their peaceful evening. ‘You found out quite a bit from someone who doesn’t say much. I could have done with you as my snout when I was working.’
They fell into a companionable silence. After a while, Will asked Kate to point out some of the constellations to him. He could never remember them. He enjoyed his beautiful wife’s enthusiasm as she pointed them out.
‘There’s Cassiopeia. See that “W” shape to the left of the cottage chimney? And that’s Orion, the Hunter, with his belt and sword. That really bright star in the belt is Rigel, it’s a blue-white supergiant. The other slightly less bright one is Betelgeuse — that’s a red supergiant.’
As she continued to point out her favourites, telling him their names and their impossible sizes and distances from Earth, his eyelids began to droop.
‘I love you,’ he said. ‘You’re my brightest star, brighter than all of these.’
‘Thank you, my Bear. I love you too.’
* * *
The night wind sent a cooling breath over their naked bodies. They lay on top of the bed, entwined.
As he drifted down into sleep, Will heard her ask, ‘Do you think she had any other children, or just the one, the one who died?’
Not wanting to answer, he pretended to fall asleep, real sleep following soon after.
* * *
The following morning, Will rolled over and reached for her, only to find a cold empty space beside him. He struggled up against the pillows and tried to massage a bit of life back into his aching right arm. He peered at the clock radio whose green digital numbers proclaimed it to be six thirty-five, so he flopped back down again.
For the whole of the previous week, Kate had adhered to their new regime. They enjoyed a morning snuggle at around seven o’clock, then they made tea and drank it in bed, planning the day ahead before they got up and showered. Today, though, she was back in her studio, and more than likely trying to make up for lost time.
Out in the garden, Will had been working for an hour or so when he heard the growl of an engine. He put down his hammer and saw an old battered white lorry pull up a few yards from their drive. His eyes narrowed. Everything about the vehicle shouted “cowboy.” It might just as well have been a covered wagon. Will was relieved not to have gone out this morning. This was not the first time he had had to save his wife from being ripped off.
He set off down the garden, but Kate was already coming out of the front door.
‘So glad you made it,’ she exclaimed happily. She turned to Will and called out, ‘This is Barry, darling.’
The young man extended a hand and bestowed a friendly smile on Will. ‘Pleased to meet you, sir. Nice ’ouse you have ’ere. Your wife said you’ve not bin ’ere long?’
His accent declared him to be a fens man, and he had a surprisingly pleasant voice.
‘Yes, we lived in Fenfleet before,’ Will said.
They went around to the back of the house.
‘So, Barry, what do you think of our dilapidated patio then?’ he asked.
‘Shouldn’t be too difficult to get it up, sir — it’s pretty crumbly to start with. We’d get a skip in to take away the ’ardcore but use a bit of it for the base of the new patio, that’d keep the cost down.’ He looked at Kate. ‘Yesterday you said you wanted the job done asap, Mrs Stonebridge. Well, we are really booked up for at least the next two months . . .’