Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange by Jenny Kane (best free e reader .TXT) 📕

Tina agreed. ‘So was the cake she produced to go with it. Do you want her to cook for us? I assumed the guests would take it in turns to cook on a rota; part of the rehab process.’

Sam gave a thumbs up as Thea waved a packet of biscuits in his direction. ‘It’s a vital part of the program, to be able to cook for yourself and others. The social side as well as the actual cooking, but not everyone cooks well. What if we appointed Mabel to oversee the preparation of the meals?’

‘Would that work?’ Thea was thoughtful. ‘I’m sure she’d do a good job with the food, but she can have an unfortunate manner sometimes. Some of our guests might not cope with that.’

‘I don’t think she’d be like that with the guests. Mabel has hidden depths.’ Sam took his cup from Tina as he leant on the doorframe. ‘My worry was more that she wouldn’t like the hours. Seven o’clock for evening meals could be a bit late for her and Bert?’

‘And they’d have their own meal to cook as well,’ Tina said. ‘How about we ask her to design the menus and order in all the food? Mabel is good at catering for groups. All those committees she’s on have taught her how to get the most out of nothing.’

Sam raised his cup. ‘Excellent idea. I had plain cooking in mind. Casseroles, pasta dishes. Easy but filling. And loads of vegetable dishes using the stuff we grow here; once it’s grown of course.’

‘Jacket potatoes.’ Thea pointed towards the Aga. ‘They’ll do brilliantly in there, and so easy!’

‘But not as good as on one of Sam’s bonfires.’ Tina recalled the first alfresco meal Sam had cooked for them shortly after his arrival at Mill Grange.

‘Potatoes are something we aren’t going to be short of at least.’ Sam smiled. ‘The crop of earlys is well established. I want to put some lates in soon too. I wondered about asking our test guests to plant them this week.’

‘Good idea.’ Thea glanced at the clipboard she was holding. ‘Ann, Woody and Dave; right?’

‘Yes. Good people. Lots of fun and always up for a challenge, although letting Ann near the kitchen might be interesting.’

‘A good cook?’

‘A dreadful cook. I’ve never known anyone so adept at cremating everything she touches food wise.’

Thea laughed. ‘That’ll be jacket potato night then, followed by one of your heavenly lemon cakes, Tina.’

‘Sounds good to me. As does asking Mabel to do the menu.’ Tina grinned. ‘I know! We’ll ask her to consider being our cuisine consultant. She’ll love that.’ Unable to stifle a yawn, Tina picked up the pile of pillows she’d brought into the kitchen with her.

‘What are they inside for?’ Sam was surprised to see their pillows indoors.

‘Stop them getting damp.’ Tina looked sheepish. ‘I thought we’d sleep better if we could lie on warm pillows tonight.’

‘Umm, yeah, good idea.’ Sam reached out his hands. ‘Why not give them to me, I’ll put them in your car, that way they’ll stay dry.’

‘But not warm.’ Tina cradled them closer, recalling the action they’d witnessed the night before. ‘I’ll pop them in the laundry room on the way to the office.’

‘No, honestly, I’ll take them.’ An anxious Sam longed to be able to dash inside and pull them out of Tina’s grasp.

Puzzled, Thea asked, ‘Should I take them? I could put them in my room if you’re worried about them getting mixed up with the linen for the house guests.’

Sam’s smile failed to meet his eyes. ‘I suppose that would be alright, if you were careful and…’

He was too late.

As a confused Tina passed the pillows to Thea, four small blue envelopes, scented with perfume, slipped out of their pillowcase prison, and hit the flagged-stone kitchen floor.

Crouching to pick them up, Tina’s face fell as she took in the feminine script of the handwritten envelopes. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She wanted an explanation, but whichever way her imagination pictured it, the reasons why her partner was hiding scented letters in his pillowcase, couldn’t be good.

Glancing from one friend to the other, Thea took her clipboard and cup of coffee and made a tactical departure.

‘It’s not what you think.’ Sam panicked, seeing how the situation appeared through Tina’s eyes. Taking a step forward, he moved to rush into her arms, but after two steps inside, he was backing away, gasping for air.

‘Sam!’ Forgetting the letters for a second, Tina ran outside as her partner took slow steadying breaths. As soon as he’d got hold of himself, she steered Sam to the nearest bench and dropped the letters into his lap as if they were toxic. ‘Talk to me before I leap to conclusions. Who are the letters from?’

Wiping the back of his arm over his mouth, Sam stared across the garden and beyond to the woods connecting Mill Grange with the body of Exmoor, which in turn led on to the prehistoric clapper bridge at Tarr Steps. Angry with himself at his failed attempt to go inside, and angrier still at not having been able to enter the manor like a normal person so he could hide his mother’s letters properly in the first place, Sam cleared his throat.

‘I was going to tell you, but I wanted to think about how to deal with these first.’ He held the letters out to Tina, but she shuffled away from the offending articles.

‘I haven’t been cheating on you, Tina.’ Sam gave a bitter laugh. ‘As you may have noticed, I’m unable to sneak off into hidden places. So exactly where and when do you think I could have been unfaithful to you?’

‘Sam!’ Tina felt guilty. She’d been trying hard not to think about him doing just that. ‘I didn’t, I just wondered… someone from before perhaps? Someone you left behind prior to all this.’

Resting his head in his hands, Sam’s eyes focused on his