Meet Me at Willow Hall: A perfectly charming romance for 2019!

I went out on to the street and turned right to go down to the river. The busy city centre with its tourists, shoppers and office workers rushing to get their lunch held no appeal for me today. My nerves were too frayed and the only thing I needed was some fresh air and space to think. The blustery wind had goose bumps racing across my flesh and my skirt billowing around my legs. It was a lot colder than it had been last week at Willow Hall.

But as I was walking, it occurred to me Anthony might still be around somewhere, getting a bite to eat in a café or simply looking around the shops. I stopped suddenly as an overwhelming urge to find him took hold. The woman walking behind tutted loudly and cast an irritated look over her shoulder as she scooted around me.

‘Sorry,’ I muttered, before forcing myself to carry on towards the river. What was I thinking? I’d been almost relieved when he left the shop just now. The conversation had been so awkward and stilted, and so much remained unsaid between us, that it had been almost painful. And yet, I still had some kind of masochistic urge to see and speak to him again. It wouldn’t do. I needed to get some control over my emotions. Anthony wasn’t interested in me. He’d only come to the shop to find out about Elena’s wedding. He didn’t even care that I was engaged – or, rather, pretending to be engaged. All he cared about was drumming up business for Willow Hall.

I couldn’t blame him. It was he who had finished it, after all, and that was more than a year ago. Any normal person would be able to move on with their life, and he obviously had. It was only me clinging to the past, trying to hold on to something that had long since died. I couldn’t even understand why I was still so attached to him. I’d had plenty of boyfriends in the past who had meant nothing to me. They’d come and gone from my life and I’d given them barely a second thought. Okay, so he was the only man I’d ever lived with, but that was only because my house had been flooded by a burst boiler so he’d offered to let me stay. It wasn’t like we’d bought a house together, chosen furniture, shared dreams. We hadn’t even been together that long. Just four months. Maybe that was why I couldn’t get over him. It had all felt so new and exciting, and then he’d had the accident and shut me out when I was agonised with worry.

The river was only at the bottom of the street. Cars trundled past and, spotting a break in the traffic as the lights turned red, I nipped across the road. A stiff breeze was stripping pink blossom from the trees and blowing it up the street, where it nestled in pavement cracks and gathered in gutters. Spring was a time of new life and fresh starts, but I always felt sorry for the blossom that ended its short life soiled and damaged on the ground.

The riverfront was surprisingly busy for a weekday. I paused by the weir to watch a cormorant fish in the rushing water, its thin black neck emerging triumphant from the white foam, clutching its wriggling silver prize in its beak. Although the sun was shining, the fresh breeze carried flecks of rain, and I shivered as one splattered inside my ear. Pulling my coat around me, I left the roar of the weir and rumble of traffic from the bridge behind me and headed down to the riverfront. I’d intended to sit on one of the benches but they were all taken, so I walked slowly along the front instead, enjoying the fresh air and smell of the water. The trees were all in blossom and pink petals fluttered to the floor with each gust of wind. One of the big white show boats was docked next to the wooden jetty, waiting to take people on a sightseeing cruise upstream. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I watched a young couple take a seat together on the top deck, remembering when Anthony and I had done the same thing in happier times. We’d been more interested in kissing than watching the view slide past, but it had been a lovely day, warm for March. I remembered the sun sparkling on the water in the same way I’d seen a thousand times before, but because I was with Anthony it seemed magical somehow.

The couple on the top deck were kissing now, oblivious to me watching below. With a silent wish that their relationship would last longer than mine and Anthony’s, I walked on towards the bandstand.

Further on, a toddler girl and her grandfather were throwing bread for a family of swans while seagulls wheeled above, their shrill cries slicing the air. The girl looked so adorable in her bright-red coat and red wellingtons that I couldn’t help but smile. Her dark hair was tied up in stubby pigtails and she kept shouting at the gulls and waving her little arms around while her grandfather knelt beside her, laughing. I looked around to see if anyone else was watching them and my heart lurched as I spotted Anthony sitting on a bench a few rows back.

He hadn’t seen me yet. He was hunched over with his elbows on his knees, staring at the space between his feet. I hesitated, suddenly terrified and unsure whether to pretend not to have seen him and walk on. After all, he’d just been introduced to my pretend fiancé. I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk to him right now, especially if he was going to ask me questions about Jayjay.

But there was something about his posture that made me carry on staring. He looked sad, somehow. Dejected. Why did he look like that? What was happening in his life?

So I found myself walking slowly over to him, my red mary-janes making a satisfying clop-clopping noise on the concrete until I was standing directly in front of him. He stared at my shoes for a moment before slowly straightening up and looking at me.

‘Oh.’

I experienced a flutter of panic. What did oh mean? Did he think I’d followed him here? Maybe I should have just walked on after all.

‘I was just out for some fresh air.’ I pointed behind me at the river, as though it wasn’t obvious where we were. ‘I thought you’d gone.’

He shrugged. ‘I thought I’d come down here. Relive some old memories.’ He smiled up at me, his eyes on mine, and I felt my heart shift in my chest. Had he really been thinking about me? Us? Before I could say anything, he looked around him. ‘I’ve missed this place. I forgot how pretty Chester is.’

‘Yeah, I guess I forget to look because I live here.’ I opened my mouth to ask if he remembered going on the boat cruise, then quickly changed my mind. I didn’t want him to say no, or say yes, it was boring, or something that might ruin my precious memories of a perfect day. ‘You live in a pretty place anyway, don’t you? Willow Hall is beautiful.’

He grunted and shrugged. ‘I suppose so. But… ah, never mind.’ He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. ‘Would you like to sit down?’ He indicated the bench next to him and I sat down at the far end, leaving a generous gap between us.

‘So what’s up? Are you not happy living there?’

‘It’s not that. I like it better than I ever thought I would. It’s just a lot of pressure, you know. We need to make it work or we’ll lose it. We’ve only got one wedding booked for next year.’

‘Well, even one wedding’s a good start, isn’t it? And you have more open days coming up, don’t you? You’re bound to get something from those.’

‘Let’s hope so. The renovations have cost us a fortune. We need to start making some money somehow. Julian and I have put this off for far too long.’

‘I don’t understand how your mother’s kept it going for so long without your support. How did she cope?’

Anthony shrugged. ‘We rent out land to farmers, so that’s provided some income. But if we’re going to keep the hall, we need to increase our revenue.’

I stared thoughtfully up at the branches of the tree above us. ‘Why don’t you put on some other events this year if you can’t get weddings? Corporate events? Dog shows? Horse shows? Flower shows? Craft fairs?’

‘It’s a bit late to organise it all now.’

‘Why? They don’t have to be huge events. Start off small and well organised and invite the local press to get coverage.’

Anthony stared thoughtfully at the river. A group of teenagers had hired a bright-orange pedalo and were laughing raucously as they tried to pedal against the current.

‘Hmm, that’s an idea.’

‘Do you know any rock stars that would put on a concert for you?’

‘Sadly not.’

‘Shame.’

He chuckled and rubbed his face again. ‘Jayjay seems like a nice lad. Why aren’t you with him?’

‘He had to get back to work.’ I kept my eyes on the pedalo. Anthony’s use of the word lad hadn’t escaped me; he’d obviously noticed that Jayjay was younger than me. I hoped he wasn’t going to ask me questions I couldn’t answer. I was no good at lying.

‘What does he do?’

‘He’s a roofer.’ I think, I added silently to myself. I was pretty sure Bobbi had told me that, anyway.

‘He didn’t seem dressed for work.’

‘He had an appointment this morning, but he’s going back to work this afternoon.’

‘Ah, okay. So this flower show thing, how would we set that up?’

I hesitated. Why was he asking my advice? ‘Err, well, you could advertise your own, although that might take a lot of organising and you might not be able to attract enough interest this year. Unless you contact your local horticultural society to see if they have any events planned that they might like to move to your hall?’

Anthony pulled a face. ‘I doubt that would encourage any interest in our wedding business, though.’

‘Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t really know. How about a craft fair? That might be easier and could attract a broader range of people. Are the house and gardens open to visitors during the week?’

‘Not at the moment. We talked about it, but Mother’s not interested.’

‘But you wouldn’t have to open every day. You might not even get any visitors at first.’

‘Well, then, that begs the question of whether it would even be worth the effort.’

‘I suppose.’

There was a pause in conversation as a couple of ducks waddled up to investigate us for food. Quacking gently, they stared at us with their shiny black eyes and pecked hopefully at the floor by our feet.

‘Hello, ducks,’ Anthony said mildly. ‘We have no bread. Try the little girl over there.’ He nodded towards the toddler in the red coat who was now walking away, hand in hand with her grandfather. The swans were already gliding off down the river.

‘She’s so cute!’ I said wistfully.

Anthony laughed. ‘She is, isn’t she. You should see Julian’s kids. They’re lovely. Grace is such a little chatterbox. She never stops talking. She’s amazing, she really is. And Charlie is growing so fast! I can’t get over him. Every day he seems to have grown another inch. He’s great.’

‘Aw, bless!’ I stared at Anthony in amazement. He’d always been fond of his niece and nephew, but he never used to gush about them like this.