Harkett's Haven (6 page)

llet size=Rachel put
a few scones
into the small oven to heat them through and took the butter out the fridge. She grabbed a pot of homemade raspberry jam from the shelf
and placed three mugs on the table.

Eric had taken off his jacket and was staring out the window at the weather, which was throwing everything it had at the small cottage on the hill. Rachel could hear the sound of the rain
hammering at the window.

Her
visitors had broken a spell. Her work was solitary and for the most part, that was the way she liked it; the last six months had been a healing experience. But her short time with Eric and Esme had made her realise that perhaps it was time to start moving on.

Eric joined her in the kitchen.

‘This is a neat place you’ve got here.’

‘Yeah....
I love it here. It’s been just what I needed.’ She gazed out the window, lost in thought.

Eric glanced at
his daughter and her dog at the fireside.

‘
Esme and Jack have made themselves at home.’ The smile on his face made his eyes crinkle. Rachel found herself thinking back to their morning together and she found herself unexpectedly wanting more.

‘Where do you sleep Rachel?’

He brushed a stray strand of hair off her face, his eyes lingering on her lips.

Time seemed to stop for Rachel as her touched h
er.

‘
I need to see you again. Tomorrow.’ He whispered his words so Esme wouldn’t hear.

The kettle started whistling on the stove, breaking Rachel’s trance. She turned from him quickly, grateful for the interruption
, busying herself pouring the hot water to make tea.

He pulled her hair gently back over her shoulder, exposing her neck and he leaned
down to kiss her skin.

Rachel held her breath, every muscle in her body
tense and taut, wanting more of his touch.

A phone rang.

Eric fished around in his pocket.

‘God, what now?’ he muttered irritably.

He answered the call.

‘Dr
Harkett speaking.’ He listened and Rachel could see the immediate switch to his professional persona.

‘OK Claire. I’ll be there in about half an hour.’

Rachel felt her heart sink when she heard Claire’s name.

‘I’m so sorry Rachel. There’s an emergency at the
MacKenzie farm. Their son has a bad leg fracture.’

‘Please go.....Leave
Esme and Jack here if it would make things easier for you.hisier for’

He grabbed her and kissed her.

‘That’d be great Rachel. I’ll collect her when I get finished.’

He turned from her and shouted to
Esme.

‘
Esme, I’ve got an emergency to go to. Are you OK to stay with Rachel ‘till I get finished?’

‘Yeah of course!’
Esme beamed at Rachel.

‘I’m hoping I won’t be too long Rachel.
I get first call because the farm’s not far from here. The life of a country doctor.’ He shrugged apologetically and smiled. ‘I’ll have to stabilise him and wait for the ambulance.... or air ambulance to take him to hospital. Depends how bad it is.’

He left the cottage, the wind howling in as he opened the door.  Rachel hoped too that it wouldn’t be long before he returned.

3.

‘
Esme. Come and get something to eat.’

Ra
chel had fished the hot scones from the oven and put them on a plate on the table. The cottage had warmed up quickly with the stove and AGA now running on full and the weather had worsened again outside. It had turned into a day much like the one that had thrown her into the Harkett family’s life.

Esme
walked slowly to the table, rubbing her eyes.

‘Sleepy
?’

She nodded, ‘
I feel really tired now.’

‘I think it’ll take you a while to get your strength back
...... after yesterday. Come and have something to eat and after, if you feel like it, you can have a nap.....’till your Dad gets back.’

Esme
sat at the table and started eating. Rachel poured her a hot cup of tea and sat beside her.

‘Does your Dad often have
to run off to emergencies?’

‘Sometimes
....I normally have to go and stay with Mrs Strachan.’ Rachel sensed that this wasn’t an altogether satisfactory arrangement for Esme by the frown on her face.

‘You don’t like Mrs Strachan?’

‘She’s nice but she’s a bit....well....strict and ....boring. She must be at least ninety or something ’

Rachel smiled, ‘Well I guess it’s good for your Dad to have someone to help out when he needs it.’

‘I think Dad really likes you Rachel.’

Rache
l blushed, ‘I think he’s just grateful that you’re OK.’

Esme
watched Rachel closely as she drank her tea.

She was slightly
disconcerted by the girl’s close scrutiny but she noticed how tired Esme looked, how small and vulnerable she was. She would like her to try to sleep. Sleep was a great healer and she didn’t know how long Eric was going to be.

‘Would you like to see the loft
Esme?’

‘Yes please.’
Esme’s eyes lit up and she jumped to her feet.

‘Promise you’ll be careful climbing the ladder.’

‘I promise.’

Esme
skipped to the bottom of the ladder and waited for Rachel to join her. All signs of tiredness were temporarily erased from her face.

‘I’ll climb up first and open the hatch. When you follow
up, make sure you hold tight to the rungs and I’ll help you up at the top.’

Rachel climbed the ladder to the loft easily and quickly. When she had first moved to the house, it had seemed quirky and strange to climb a
ladder and open a hatch to get into the bedroom. It had quickly become normal and second nature but with her small visitor she was once again reminded of her first feelings of amazement about this place.

The hatch at the top of the ladder was on a hinge that pushed up and into the attic space.

Although the room was under the eaves of the cottage, the stainless steel flue pipe for both the stove and the AGA entered the attic space on its way out through the roof. The attic of the house stretched from one gable end to the other, the two flue pipes gleaming, one at either side. The beams of the roof were exposed with no plaster lining but despite having seen some atrocious weather conditions in her six months here, this room had never been anything but cosy and warm with the radiated heat from the flues keeping the room warm as toast.

There was only enough room to stand upright at the apex of the room and the noise of the rain and wind was loud enough for Rachel to have to raise her voice to speak to
Esme whose head had just tentatively popped up through the hatch.

‘Well, what do you think?’

Rachel’s bed was low height sleigh bed, covered in white sheets and a patchwork quilted blanket. Purpose-built oak storage drawers had been built into the cornice of the room where the roof and the floor met. The largest part of the floor was covered with a simple woven Scandinavian rug in blues and creams.

Rachel put on the small bedside light and went to help
Esme through the hatch.

‘Mind your head
Esme. There’s not much room.’

Esme
’s excitement lit up her face and transformed her from the pale and tired child who had eaten at the table downstairs into the child that now stood in front of her, a child filled with wonder and delight.

‘Wow,’ was the only word she uttered.

There were two large roof windows against which the rain drummed and which Esme made a bee-line for.

She stared out at the stormsmaat the y day, the sky now darkened to a
late evening gloom. The views from the window were breathtaking; waves crashing onto the beach and hurling their fury at the base of the rocky outcrop the cottage stood on.

‘Do you ever feel scared?’ she whispered.

‘Never here. This cottage’s over a hundred years old and solid as a rock...you know, the sound of the waves send me to sleep each night.’

Rachel put her arm
around Esme and hugged her close. The girl laid her head against her and started to sob.

‘
Esme, what’s wrong?’ Rachel kneeled beside her and took her face gently in her hands.

‘I miss my Mum.’

‘Oh Esme. Of course you do my love.’ She hugged her close and let her sob, her little body heaving.

‘It must have been an awful thing to go through.....to lose y
our mum.’

Esme
sniffed and sobbed and Rachel held her close. Maybe it was something to do with the house, maybe the weather. Maybe it was the way that Rachel and Esme had been thrown together and Esme’s first chance to talk to someone she trusted apart from her father but the fact that this little girl wanted to talk about the loss of her mum left Rachel feeling profoundly touched.

‘Let’s sit on the bed.’

Esme perched on the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched and head bowed. Rachel sat beside her and put her arm around her, pulling her close.

‘Sometimes it’s easier to speak to a stranger.’

‘You’re not a stranger Rachel.’ Her voice was vehement and determined. She paused.

‘My mum killed herself.’

Rachel sighed miserably and closed her eyes, feeling the pain Esme radiated.

‘
Esme, I’m so sorry.’ There didn’t seem to be any words that were appropriate.

‘
It wasn’t my dad’s fault Rachel, it wasn’t...’

‘
It was no-one’s fault Esme. Of course it wasn’t. You mustn’t blame yourself or your dad or anyone else.....’

When eventually her tears subsided, Rachel took her to her bed.

‘Take your shoes off Esme. Cosy under. You’ll sleep well now.’

The small girl now totally exhausted,
took off her shoes and slipped under the covers. Rachel lay in top of the covers beside Esme and stroked her hair. They maintained eye contact, a deep understanding of what had passed between them unsaid. Esme’s eyes fluttered and opened and then fluttered and closed.

Rachel continued to stroke
Esme’s dark hair until her breathing deepened and her body relaxed.

She left the small bedside light
on, worried that Esme would wake and wonder where she was.

Climbing back down into the brightly lit ground floor of the house made her bl
ink and screw up her eyes. Switching off the main spotlights in the kitchen to lower the light levels, she poured herself a cup of tea and made her way to the sofa. The wind howled and whistled outside, hurling angry pelts of rain at the window.

The logs in the stove had
burned down to glowing embers and the radiated heat washed over her. Tiredness was sneaking up on her and her injured arm was starting to throb.

She thought briefly about getting back up to get a pain killer from the kitchen cupboard but sleep overtook any desire to move from her comfortable place on the sofa.
She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep, lulled by the sound of the wind and waves outside.