Page 4 of Matilda’s Summer of New Beginnings

And I’d heard a lot about Padcock — so yay!

Chapter Two

Padcock was indeed a lovely little village. I’d heard a lot about it, obviously, but like I say, I’d never been. However, once we drove into the little village in the South Downs, I could see why Rosie loved it so much. It was a maze of little streets lined with houses and higgledy-piggledy olde-worlde shops. Many of the buildings had doors that opened straight out onto the paths, and some of the buildings were even thatched.

As we drove along towards the main road, I could see bay-windowed shop fronts and loads of little independent shops that I would love to explore. I opened the window so I could breathe in the fresh air, so much cleaner than the stuff I inhaled every day in London. People were bustling around the streets shopping, or standing chatting to friends in the sunshine, and we passed a grand old house set back in massive grounds, guarded by big, wrought iron gates.

‘That’s Padcock Court,’ Rosie informed me. ‘It’s privately owned, but you’ll have seen it on television or in a film.’

‘I think I probably have done,’ I said. ‘I’m pretty sure it was in that adaptation of Great Expectations earlier in the year.’

‘It was!’ Rosie was delighted. ‘Told you we were famous, didn’t I?’ All the way down, Rosie had chattered to me as she drove, and told me lots about the films and TV series that had been filmed at Padcock, and I found myself trying to spot other familiar locations.

She told me again all about Little Doddington Deaths, which was one of her absolute favourite programmes, and how adorable the dog was who starred in it as one-third of the trio who solved crimes. Her enthusiasm was infectious and, as a Doddington virgin, I found myself asking questions like, ‘Is it easy to guess who the baddie is each week?’ and ‘Why on earth do people continue to live in Little Doddington if the crime rate is so high and the police so useless?’ But Rosie couldn’t answer that one.

However, she still had lots to say about the village she knew so well, and pulled her ace card out, confirming the best part about Padcock, just as we slowed down to let a tractor out at a junction — the very best thing about the village, according to Rosie, was that everyone got a chance to join in the fun. ‘Remember when I said Jay was an extra in A Christmas Carol a little while ago?’ She beamed — which was indeed Rosie’s usual expression. ‘Most of the village was in the show. Cerys was a pregnant pauper, and Veronica from the WI was a shouty market trader.’ Cerys was Sam’s fiancée — Sam was Jay’s boss — and Cerys owned the tearoom in the village. Rosie had briefly worked for Cerys in the holidays and for the occasional weekend until she got her new job at Darling! It had been a tenuous role, I thought, but had benefitted them both to some extent.

‘Jay was a Man in a Top Hat,’ she continued. ‘He had to link arms with someone in a crinoline and he said she nearly took his leg off with her petticoats.’

‘I can’t think that petticoats would take a person’s leg off.’

‘Well they didn’t, did they?’ Rosie gave me a curious look. ‘I said nearly took his leg off. They were pretty brutal petticoats, by all accounts.’

‘Okay.’ I had learnt by now that sometimes it was just easier to let Rosie waffle her nonsense.

‘Anyway. What I’m trying to say is that you’ll love Padcock and everyone is very friendly. It’ll not be long before you feel like a local.’

‘I feel like I know the place already. It’s awesome!’ I patted her hand as it rested on the steering wheel. ‘Thank you for inviting me to come along. I’m looking forward to the party. I hope Jay likes his gift.’

Jay was going to be thirty. He was four years older than Rosie and still, apparently, classed as “the youngster” who worked behind the bar at the Spatchcock. Rosie said she suspected that his party was just going to basically be a usual Friday night in the Spatchcock, but with cake.

Cake was good. I could go for that. I’d opted for a boxed set of four real ales from our local micro-pub in Hackney for Jay’s gift. I figured that he could compare the Hackney ales to the Spatchcock ones, as I understood Sam was into brewing and Rosie said the Spatchcock ones were pretty good.

Rosie pulled up beside a green door set into the front of a building. The building declared itself to be Eclectically Yours — Cerys’ Craft Shop and Organic Tea Room.

‘This is our home for the weekend,’ she said. ‘We can use the flat above the shop. Cerys used to live there, but obviously she’s above the Spatchcock now with Sam. Jay said the key is under the bay tree.’ She nodded to a little potted bay tree in front of the door.

‘They can’t just leave the key there all the time!’ I was horrified. ‘It might get stolen!’

‘It might, but it won’t. And no, silly, it doesn’t get left there all the time!’ Rosie grinned at me. ‘They know we’re coming, and this means we can just nip straight in and get ready. Bagsy the shower first!’ She grabbed her bag and was out of the car before I could even answer, and by the time I’d undone my seatbelt and stumbled out onto the path, she was in the flat, the door swinging open behind her.

‘Charming,’ I grumbled as I tugged my case out of the back seat. Now I knew why she’d just brought a little overnight bag — it was for speedy grabbage, obviously.

I was slamming the car door shut, knowing I’d have to remind her to lock the vehicle up, when I heard a voice speaking my name.

‘Matilda? I thought that was you. How’s things?’

I turned and saw Jay standing there, hands in his pockets, his fair hair shorter than it had been last time I saw him, smiling at me. His blue eyes twinkled with the usual mischief and I stared at him gormlessly. My default position, it seemed, when he was looking particularly lovely. I sniffed surreptitiously. Yes, he was wearing my favourite aftershave — something that reminded me of the ocean and of rain-drenched earth after a summer storm.

My heart did this swoopy-woopy thing, followed swiftly by my stomach. Somehow, Jay always had that effect on me. ‘Oh! Hi Jay. I’m fine thank you. Rosie’s already gone in. Happy birthday!’ I prattled. I couldn’t help it. I peered behind him to see if his latest girlfriend was there. Charlotte, she’d been called. Not that I made a habit of tracking his love-life . . . much.

Joyfully, he was alone.

‘Thank you,’ he said. Then his smile turned into a laugh and he shook his head. ‘Did Rosie bagsy the shower first? She never changes. She’s always like that at Mum and Dad’s too.’

‘Yes she did. Are your mum and dad coming down for your party?’ I knew they didn’t live too far away from Padcock. And will Charlotte be there? was another question I was dying to ask.

‘No. I’m seeing them tomorrow. They’re coming over for brunch at the café.’