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

the men go, Helen cursed. If she’d known he had a child she could at least have asked Tom about his son. It would have been something to say.

What the hell do you know about children though?

Thirty-Four

September 24th

The car was gorgeous. She knew that somewhere along the line there had to be an advantage to Sam’s condition, but she’d never dreamt it would be getting to ride across the south of England in a vintage car.

Tina had always loved old cars. Now she and Sam were navigating the lanes of Somerset between Upwich and the Devon border from inside a dark green MG Roadster from 1969, with the roof down, so they could join the motorway at Tiverton, prior to heading towards Malvern.

They’d set off at six in the morning. Sam determined that, if he had a confinement crisis, they’d have time to make a stop every half an hour if necessary. Wrapped in layers of clothing, Tina enjoyed the blow of fresh autumnal air against her face as they whizzed along. Grateful it wasn’t raining, she decided not to think about how gusty the experience might be once they reached the motorway.

Having made the decision to go so she didn’t disappoint Sam’s mother, as they passed the county border and entered Devon, Tina resolved to just enjoy the moment. She would take the trip for what it was. Life decisions could be made afterwards.

‘You alright?’ Sam called out over the sound of the wheels and the light rush of air.

Knowing she sounded wistful, Tina replied, ‘I just realised that this is the first time we’ve been together off the estate.’

‘So it is!’ Sam grinned. ‘We’ll get out more once we’re up and running. Just us, together.’

‘Will we?’

Sam briefly averted his gaze from the road to look at her. ‘Why so surprised? Once the business is up and running, we’ll have more time.’

‘Time like this?’ As she patted the car affectionately, Tina felt herself smile despite the nagging doubts about their future.

‘I’ll be saving for a posh car then, will I?’

‘Maybe after we’ve sorted the house, mill and greenhouse.’

‘Spoilsport!’

‘We could hire this darling every now and then though.’ Tina stroked the dashboard. ‘Bosses’ perk.’

‘Deal!’ Sam grinned. ‘I got a quote sorted for renovating the greenhouse, by the way.’

‘Break it to me gently.’

‘Ten grand.’

Tina blew out a gust of air. ‘Steep.’

‘Labour, time and original materials don’t come cheap.’

‘I suppose not.’ Tina sighed. ‘I think I’ll call him Augustus.’

‘The greenhouse?’ Sam gave his girlfriend a sideways glance before negotiating a bend in the road.

‘No! The car. Don’t you think a car as lovely as this deserves a stately name? Maybe Gus for short.’

‘You’re mad.’ Sam laughed. ‘Which is a very good thing in my opinion.’

*

Tina twisted around and looked over her left shoulder to double-check, before saying, ‘I think that was our turning, Sam.’

‘It was.’ He swung the MG around the roundabout, deliberately missing the junction for the M5. ‘I thought I’d show you something on the way.’

Resting against the leather seat, Tina examined their unexpected surroundings as the car slowed to a steady forty miles an hour. The motorway, to her left, was quickly pushed from the view by fields of varying shades of green and yellow, dotted with sheep. To the right, a few cottages were butted up against the edge of the road. Each had an air of shock about them, as if the road system, at least thirty years old, was still a surprising encroachment on their space.

A mile on, and the countryside to the right changed to rolling hills and sporadic clumps of woodland.

‘The Blackdown Hills.’ Sam slowed further as he indicated right. ‘Fancy breakfast in Elizabethan splendour? Assuming you don’t mind a short walk.’

Having wondered if a breakfast picnic would be the right time to readdress her concerns about his hidden past, Tina dismissed the idea. No. Meeting his parents is nerve-racking enough, without Sam and me not being on speaking terms when we turn up.

‘I never mind a walk, but where are we going?’ Curiosity filled Tina as the car wove its way through a picture-book village and on down narrowing lanes.

‘You’ll see.’

*

‘Wow!’

Sam threaded his arm over Tina’s shoulders as, having left the car in a secluded lay-by, they’d strolled up a gentle tree-lined slope. Suddenly it had levelled out, becoming open ground, with a view that ran for miles. In the foreground, all alone, sat a circular stone-built hut.

‘Welcome to Culmstock Beacon.’

‘It’s incredible.’ Tina ran forward, ducking inside the low open archway that acted as a door. There was a slight dip in the floor, which paired exactly with a hole in the centre of the domed roof above. ‘Is this an original beacon hut?’

‘It is.’ Sam ducked in after her. There was only just room for two people. ‘The torch staff would be balanced in the hollow at our feet, and then the top would be lit. As you can imagine, it would have been seen for miles around, so everyone in the area would have known that the Spanish Armada was coming.’

Delighted that such a historical treasure was only an hour from her home, Tina surveyed the scene. ‘Can you imagine the men on lookout, waiting to see if the beacon ahead of this one would be lit? Wondering if they’d ever have to fire this one, and then, waiting, hoping that the next beacon team would see it, and the signal for invasion would be safely passed on.’

‘If you come outside, we can sit on the bench that points in the direction of the beacon the locals would have been waiting to see alight; whilst hoping not to of course.’

Joining Sam, who was delving for some breakfast in the backpack he carried, Tina stared out across the downs. She could easily imagine how it must have felt to wait, day after day, night after night, wondering if the fire would have to be lit on your watch, not really understanding what an invasion by the Spanish meant