Page 7 of The Inn on Bluebell Lane
Ellie had understood the reason to cram them all up there, of course she had. Matthew was intending to renovate the whole place, doing as much of the work himself as he could. The five bedrooms on the lower floor were positively dire, the decoration from the 1980s, everything shabby and dated. Business, Ellie knew, had been dropping off for years.
So, yes, of course they all needed to be out of the way while Matthew went about his business, tearing up old carpets and ripping out sinks. Still, it felt a little bit like they were unwanted guests, stuck all the way up in the attics, or perhaps even the hired help.
Not, of course, that she wanted to think that way, but it was hard not to, especially when Jess had looked at the room she had to share with Ava—two narrow beds crammed side by side, with a single dresser for both of them—and given Ellie a look that was full of both misery and accusation.
“Do you think we should rent something in the village?” Ellie had asked quietly when she and Matthew had been getting ready for bed. She’d known he’d vetoed her suggestion before, but it was different now they were here, and even their suitcases barely fit in the bedrooms. “Just to make things easier on everyone,” she’d continued, “especially at the start. If Jess could have her own room—”
“What? No.” Matthew’s tone had been definitive as he’d shaken his head. “That’s not the point of all this, Ellie. Mum wants us here, and in any case, you know we need to save money.”
“Surely it wouldn’t be that much, just for a month or two?” she’d pressed. “Just until we all find our feet, that’s all.” She’d almost suggested buying a place, if they really were going to live here, but she hadn’t wanted to mention something so permanent, and she still hadn’t been sure what Matthew expected… Perhaps he was thinking they’d stay at Bluebell Inn forever? They’d never made a plan past moving and renovating the B&B. What life might look like in the long-term hadn’t been something Ellie had really wanted to discuss, anyway, but maybe she should have.
“It’ll be fine,” Matthew had assured her firmly, and Ellie tried not to resent the fact that it all seemed so easy for him. He hadn’t lain next to Ava for an hour that evening, willing her to fall asleep, or listened to Jess’s tearful diatribe as she’d accused her parents of ruining her life… yet again. He’d been downstairs, drinking coffee and catching up with his mother, while Ellie had assured an anxious Josh that he would make friends in his new school, and wrestled the iPad off Ben, who had complained that there was nothing to do but play the latest online gaming craze, which seemed to involve shooting aliens that exploded on screen in a mess of green goo. Lovely.
She loved all her children to pieces, she absolutely did, but sometimes their needs felt as if they might overwhelm her… especially when she was having to deal with them all on her own. Not, Ellie had told herself, that she begrudged her husband a catch-up with his dear mother. Of course not. And, she’d reminded herself, Matthew had been a very hands-on dad after he’d been made redundant—offering to do school pickups, kicking the soccer ball with Ben for hours in the yard, making up for lost time after working so many hours, when he’d missed bedtimes and dinnertimes and baseball games. She’d appreciated the effort, so much so that she’d missed it rather keenly just then.
As Ellie had finally closed their bedroom doors, breathing a sigh of relief that her children were mostly asleep, she’d heard laughter drift up the stairs and, for a second, she had considered going down and joining Matthew and his mother. Showing her face, at least, because she had a feeling it would count against her if she didn’t, at least in Gwen’s eyes. But she hadn’t been able to face it—Gwen’s sniff when she remarked that she’d never had to coddle her children to sleep, or words essentially to that effect, and how she’d read an article about the dangers of online gaming while Matthew gave her meaningful looks, as if to say See? They’re going to do so much better here. No thank you, to any and all of it. And so, her body aching with fatigue, she’d simply gone to her bedroom and read her book until Matthew had come up, a whole hour and a half later, looking, to his credit, somewhat apologetic.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to drop you in it with bedtime,” he’d said as he’d shucked off his clothes and changed into his pajamas. “I just wanted to catch up with Mum, especially about the B&B. I think she’s feeling a little cautious about some of my proposals, but she’ll get there.” He’d paused as he’d poked his head through the neck of his T-shirt. “Did the kids get to sleep okay? They were probably all exhausted from the jet lag.”
As she was.
Ellie had closed her book. “It took a little while,” she’d replied, and heard how stiff she sounded.
“We’re all going to have an adjustment period,” Matthew told her. “It might feel tough for a little while, but I really do believe this was the right move to make. For all of us.” He’d smiled at her, and kissed her cheek, and Ellie had just about managed a nod before they’d gone to sleep.
Now, in the fresh dawn light of a new day, she was determined to find the optimism that usually came so naturally to her back in Connecticut. It was a beautiful morning, the pale blue skies looking freshly washed, the sun sending lemony yellow rays across the kitchen floor. Bluebell Inn was a lovely property, she acknowledged, if in need of some TLC. Maybe she could help Matthew with the renovations… or even Gwen. Modernize things just a little bit, without losing the place’s charm… How would her mother-in-law feel about such a suggestion? Ellie wondered. Somehow she didn’t think Gwen would welcome changes to a house that still looked like it was stuck circa 1987, especially if they came from her.
With a small sigh, Ellie filled the kettle at the deep farmhouse sink and plonked it on top of the Aga. As she waited for it to boil, she gazed outside at the bucolic view of rolling meadow, a rich, velvety green, the whitewashed buildings of Llandrigg visible beyond. In the distance, she could see a milk truck trundling over a little stone bridge; it looked like something off the set of one of those BBC historical dramas she and Matthew watched sometimes, where everybody knew everybody else, and they were all smiling, cheerful and friendly. How could she not be happy in a place like this?
Things would go better today, Ellie decided as she spooned coffee granules into a cafetière. Toby plodded into the kitchen and nudged her with his muzzle, his tail thumping on the floor, and Ellie smiled down at him. He was a lovely, old springer spaniel, brown and cream, with long, droopy ears and kind, tired eyes. They’d always wanted a dog, but they’d been waiting for Ava to get a bit older before going down the puppy route. Now they didn’t have to.
Now they’d stepped into this amazing life—a beautiful house, a lovely village, a friendly family dog. And a grandmother. What wasn’t there to like? It was all going to work out perfectly, Ellie told herself, knowing it was far from the first time she’d tried to bolster her flagging spirits. This time, though, she would make sure it did.
Today, she decided, she’d make a real effort with Gwen. She always meant to, but, somehow, every time she’d tried, it had felt too hard. Gwen’s seemingly innocent remarks always caught her on the raw, and everything that came out of her mouth made Gwen’s purse up like a prune. Maybe it was a cultural difference—two countries separated by a common language, as it was said, although Wales of course had its own language, as well—or perhaps just a generational one. Gwen was only in her late sixties, but she’d lived in something of a time warp, as far as Ellie could see, spending all of her adult life here in rural Wales.
Not, of course, that there was anything wrong with that. She needed to stop thinking negatively about her mother-in-law, Ellie knew, even in the privacy of her own mind. They were sharing a house now, a kitchen, a life. She really needed to make this work, and she was going to, starting today.
Maybe she’d take the children on a tour of the village later; they could see the school, and the play park Gwen had said was across the green. Maybe they’d even meet a few people who could become their friends. Find their feet, as it were.
Gwen had invited Matthew’s sister, Sarah, who lived five miles over, in the next village, for dinner, and although Ellie hadn’t seen much of her sister-in-law or her family over the years, as Sarah had never visited them in the States, she was determined to make a friend of her now. Sarah’s children, Owen and Mairi, were just a little older than Jess and Ben and so they could all finally be friends, and not just distant cousins. The children could start putting down roots, which they desperately needed to do. Once this felt more like home, it would be easier for everyone. They had family here, after all. They could find a way to belong. They would.
Smiling determinedly at the thought, Ellie took the kettle off the range and poured boiling water into the cafetière, inhaling the pleasing scent of the freshly brewed coffee.
“Oh,” came Gwen’s voice behind her, sounding a bit taken aback. “I usually save that coffee for guests.”
CHAPTER 5
GWEN
As soon as Gwen uttered the words, she knew they were wrong. Yes, she saved that fancy coffee for the guests, but there weren’t any guests at the moment, and there wouldn’t be for months, while Matthew renovated the place. She hadn’t needed to say anything. Last night, Matthew had said something about Ellie missing Starbucks, of all things, and so clearly a cup of instant coffee was not going to be up to scratch for her daughter-in-law.
Gwen saw how Ellie had stiffened when she’d spoken, and she cursed her clumsiness. Why had she not thought before she’d said something? And why did Ellie make her prickle so much, feel defensive and irritable, even though she didn’t want to be? She’d wanted things to be different this time, now that they would be living together, but she had a feeling the close proximity was only going to make it all worse. Last night, she’d been waiting for Ellie to join them after putting the children to bed, hoping they might finally have a chance to chat, or even bond, but her daughter-in-law had gone to bed without even coming downstairs to say goodnight. Gwen didn’t think it had been meant to be a snub, even if it had felt like one.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said quickly, as she came into the kitchen. “I only meant that I usually use instant, myself.” She saw Ellie’s mouth tighten and knew she’d said the wrong thing, again. “But instant isn’t very popular in America, is it?” she continued, feeling as if she were digging an even bigger hole for herself to fall into, and there would be no way to climb back out. Nothing she said sounded right, judging by the look on Ellie’s face. Gwen let out an unhappy, little sigh before continuing resignedly, “But, of course, you must feel free to use whatever you want.” Her smile was forced, as if some invisible hand was pushing up the corners of her mouth into a terrible rictus grin. “What I mean to say is, you must think of this as your home now, Ellie. That’s what I want you to do.”
Ellie did not reply, and Gwen couldn’t really blame her. No matter what she’d just said, the truth was, she wasn’t sure she actually wanted Ellie thinking of this as her home, even if it would be so for the foreseeable future. She supposed Ellie didn’t want to, either.
‘Would you like some coffee?’ Ellie asked after a moment, her voice carefully, coolly polite, without any edge, and yet Gwen felt it, deeply. She suppressed another sigh.