The Vineyard

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 33 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 34 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 35 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 36 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 37 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 38 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 39 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 40 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 41 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 42 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 43 (#litres_trial_promo)

Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher

Chapter 1 (#ulink_baa5c475-fc70-5183-b8a9-4dd989c308f0)

‘Stop the car!’ Lizzie’s heart beat rapidly as heat and perspiration prickled her fair skin sending a trembling through her limbs. A murky sky above gathered dark, heavy clouds.

‘What? I was gonna drive in the gate Miss.’ A rotund figure twisted his neck.

‘No don’t go in yet. Give me a minute out here. Please.’ Her command was clear if croaky. Impatient eyes rolled as the driver steered his taxi close to the holly hedge.

‘We’re blocking the lane Miss’.

Ignoring him, she inhaled deeply and chanted. ‘Be strong.’

‘Miss, I’ve got another fare. I can’t hang around!’

Lizzie continued her chant, ‘Be strong,’ and thumped her knuckles into her chest like it was iron. The driver scowled curiously, his sagging eyes following her from his mirror.

‘Miss, how long you gonna be? It’s gonna cost you more.’

‘Jesus, what is your problem?’ she thundered. ‘There’s a name for people like you. She grabbed her purse. How much do I owe you?’

‘Four quid Miss.’

Only having notes she paid him five pounds.

‘It’s not a tip. Give it to a charity.’ She pelted out of the door and swiped her bulky weekend bag from the seat.

She strode indignantly out of the taxi’s path. ‘Fuckwit,’ she mouthed and, catching sight of the familiar gate almost before her, came to a halt. Reality returned, quivering through her. The oak five-bar gate still hung from the sturdy stone wall, swept back open into the shingle neatly edged along the drive. The fullness of the evergreen Cedar dominated the lawn as she remembered, whilst a thicket of foliage, recently blossomed in the cool May temperature, obscured the main window. This is where she grew up, her home. Finally she was back. A cold gust of wind blew into her from the bruised sky and, pulling her jacket closer to her chest, her heart thundered as she prepared to face her mother after so long. She was determined, for once, to stay in control. Taking a deep breath she chanted ‘strong, strong, strong,’ as she approached the familiar black front door.

‘No going back now,’ she muttered reaching for the bell and subconsciously squeezing the tension through her hands. Moments later she came face to face with her nemesis, a tall, slender and, she noted, greying woman. Her mother. They gazed suspiciously at each other and Lizzie’s throat locked, her lips inert. Not a good start. Silence screamed between them until her mother’s darting, muddy eyes suddenly gave a flash of recognition and her arms thrust out.

‘Lizzie. Oh Lizzie! What a surprise’ Caroline Lambert hurtled over the threshold and clutched the graceful figure tightly. ‘My goodness, thank God you’re alive.’

‘Hello Mum.’ Lizzie’s eyebrows shot up, shocked to have caused such delight in this woman. ‘I hope you don’t mind me turning…?’ Lizzie’s voice was muffled, ensnared in her mother’s shoulder,

‘Well. Wow! What a surprise. I can hardly believe it - turning up out of the blue. I mean after, what, five years or more. Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said finding a gap to breathe, ‘I didn’t think you would want to…’

‘What…? Why on earth wouldn’t I want to see my own daughter?’ Caroline sniffed, wiping her eyes and easing Lizzie gently in over the step. ‘Although you gave me every reason not to I suppose - deserting not only us but your studies and your future. What were you thinking dear girl!’

Lizzie instantly felt the clutch of guilt her mother always managed to instil, flow into every nerve. Be strong, be strong. She fought but somehow it still lurked. Be strongyou are a grown woman yourself now. After years of being independent and tough, it was hard to imagine fear still caged her. Caroline Lambert was still gripping her daughter like she was scared to let go and Lizzie could feel her chest tighten.