Return To Bluebell Hill

***

It was late afternoon when the train began to slow down, preparing to stop at the next station. Jessica’s mouth went dry as she realised that this was her stop. A handful of passengers began to retrieve their bags from the overhead containers and prepared to depart, excitable chatter and farewells filling up the train. She was even more horrified when her handsome companion stood up. Apparently, this was his stop, too.

‘This is my stop,’ he announced cheerfully. A sliver of toned stomach was revealed to her as he stretched his arms above his head and emitted a yawn, his grey t-shirt riding up. She had to admit, it had been a long journey. ‘Still a while to go until Cornwall,’ he said, smiling down at her. ‘I hope you have a nice time while you’re there. Say hello to the seagulls for me.’ His eyes lingered on hers for a second or two longer until he offered a devastating smile, showing off every single white, shiny tooth in his mouth, and held up a hand to say goodbye. Jessica watched him disappear. If she hadn’t been so panicked, she probably would have said goodbye too, but as it was, she watched him leave without another word.

This was it. She was here.

She stepped down onto the platform with a slow exhale. On the outside, she imagined she looked calm and collected but on the inside, a storm was raging.

She searched the sea of faces to ensure that her handsome companion had definitely left the vicinity, otherwise there’d be questions regarding a trip to Cornwall coming her way. Just her luck it had turned out that he’d been getting off at the same stop as her.

She lingered beside a vending machine and waited. The train left the station a few minutes later and it was then that she realised there was no going back. London was too far away for her turn back around and leave now, even though she had the overwhelming urge to do exactly that. She clutched the suitcase handle for support and allowed her eyes to rest on the hazy blue sky that stretched out in the distance. It didn’t take long for the busyness of the platform to settle down. It was eerily quiet once it did but that was nothing new for this place. It had always been the same. Peaceful, lazy, and a world away from the setting she’d left behind.

She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and told herself that she could do this.

Chapter Two

‘Jessica? Is that you?’

She spun round on the grey concrete. Her eyes fell upon Esme. It was amazing how just the mere sight of someone had the power to soothe and calm you.

All pretences fell as she walked towards the woman she hadn’t seen for almost ten years. She’d been building herself up for this moment. She’d wanted to appear strong and capable. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, after all. She was a grown woman and she could deal with things perfectly well on her own. Or so she’d thought.

Seeing Esme with the same old patchwork shawl draped elegantly across her narrow shoulders, her warm and welcoming face, her tiny hands clasped together just below her stomach. It was too much, too familiar. Jessica was desperate to feel the stability of her love, the only real, true love that she’d ever experienced. She bundled herself into Esme’s waiting arms and breathed her in.

‘It’s really me,’ Jessica laughed, inhaling the scent of lavender. ‘And is it really you?’ She stepped back to take a good look at her. She couldn’t believe that Esme was standing in front of her. ‘You haven’t changed at all, have you? You still look exactly the same as when I left.’ The same greying hair, although thinner now, was pulled back into a cosy bun. A few wispy pieces fell down around her apple-round cheeks, framing her face prettily.

Esme laughed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, dear. I’m almost a decade older than I was the last time you saw me.’ Her eyes travelled greedily around Jessica’s face. ‘But look at you! So beautiful, so grown-up.’

Jessica blushed at the words before turning her attention towards the red-brick entrance of the station. On the other side lay a world she hadn’t stepped foot in for a very long time. ‘Would you like to lead the way? It feels a bit strange… You know, being back.’

Esme nodded and linked their arms together. ‘My pleasure, dear.’

The station was positioned at the top of one of the many hills that surrounded the outer edges of the area. A solitary road led away from the station which eventually joined forces with a winding, twisty lane that would lead them into the heart of the village. The oaks that grew in the area were ancient and creaked like old wood with or without the wind’s help.

The two women left the station and were hit by a blast of late spring sunshine. Squinting, Jessica could see the viewing point up ahead.

‘I can’t believe that old bench is still there,’ she commented as they drew near to it.

Esme laughed. ‘Shall we take a look?’ She didn’t wait for a reply but instead hurried towards the viewing point that looked over the village, and allowed her wrinkled hands to rest on the splintered handrail which had, like the bench, lived way past its sell-by date. ‘Won’t you come and take a look?’ she asked over her shoulder.

‘I think I’m okay, actually, Esme. Why don’t we—’

‘One little look won’t hurt. Just come and see how beautiful it is.’

Jessica saw the pleading look in Esme’s eyes and gave in. ‘Fine, just one look. I’ve seen it plenty of times before, so I’m not sure what you think is going to—’ Her nonsensical rambling came to halt once her hands touched the wood and she looked down at the vision below them.

‘Welcome back to Bluebell Hill,’ Esme whispered.

Bluebell Hill, the place she’d lived since birth and then left as soon as she’d been able to, reminded her of something out of a storybook, a place where fairy-tales could originate from. She could see the buildings in the village square, the top of the church, the thick patches of woodland, the school and the vivid green fields that stretched out for miles. Scattered around the edges of the village, the more expensive homes sat proudly, impressive chunks of brick against the blue sky. Her eyes caught on Bluebell House and she stared at it, trying to decipher how seeing it made her feel. Scared? Vulnerable? Angry? Like a child again? She swallowed.

She leant forward and angled her head to look down at the hill they were situated on. The traditional bluebells of the village worked their magic and transformed the hill from a dusky green to an enchanting blue. They ran down the hill like a river and surrounded the bases of the oak trees. The ground was temporarily covered with a blanket of blue.

‘You’re right. It’s beautiful.’ Jessica turned to Esme and smiled. ‘It doesn’t change anything, though.’ And that saddened her greatly. If only it did. ‘It’s still Bluebell Hill. It’s still the place I escaped and for very good reasons.’

Esme’s mouth turned down at the corners. ‘Come on. I’ve got a beef stew slow-cooking back at the cottage. I know it’s one of your favourites.’

They set off down the dusty, sun-burnt lane.

***

‘Perhaps you should fill me in on what you’ve been up to since you’ve been away?’ Esme suggested as they strolled. ‘So much time has passed since you left. What happened once you arrived in London?’

‘Once I arrived, I found a cheap apartment,’ Jessica began. ‘The money you gave me really helped me. Did I ever say thank you for that?’ Esme smiled, nodding for her to continue. ‘It was only a small place, not exactly sparkling clean, but it was perfect for me. I met one of the girls who lived upstairs and she helped me out with finding a job. She put a good word in at the café she worked at and I got straight in. Sarah. She’s an angel. I really don’t know what I would have done without her.’ She smiled at the memory of working alongside Sarah for those first few months. They’d had such a great time together, their friendship blossoming into the incredibly strong bond that they shared now, all these years later.

‘How lovely of her to help you out. She sounds marvellous. Do you still see her now?’ Esme angled her head towards her.

‘She’s my closest friend.’ Jessica laughed lightly. ‘We do everything together. I went from the café to a bookshop around the corner which then led to my colleagues pushing me towards applying at Partridge & Co. which I thought was a ridiculous idea at the start but once I was sat back at home it became a bit of an obsession for me. In the end I took a chance and they invited me along for an interview. I was beside myself with excitement,’ she continued, unable to stop the grin from appearing on her face as she thought back to the day when she’d received the phone call. ‘Just a day after the interview I was called and offered the job.’

Esme stopped walking and turned to face Jessica. ‘I’m very proud of you, Jessica. You do know that, don’t you?’

Caught off guard by the unforeseen moment of tenderness, Jessica swallowed and tried to keep it all together. ‘Thank you, Esme. I’m proud of me, too. And of course I know that you’re proud of me. You’ve always been proud of me, haven’t you? Even the tiniest things, like getting myself dressed in the mornings or brushing my teeth.’ She smiled at Esme, basking in the glow of affection. ‘It took a while for me to work my way up through the company but now I’m a marketing manager. It’s so much fun and gives me such a buzz. I wouldn’t change it for the world. I must admit, I was a bit worried about being away from it whilst being here. I feel a bit lost.’

‘I’m sure they can manage without you, and just think how pleased they’ll be to see you once you’re back.’ Esme adjusted her shawl and allowed it to hang lower across her arms. The sun’s heat was surprisingly warm.

‘I miss Sarah already. But I can chat to her whenever I need to. She’s reminded me a million times that she’s only ever a text or a phone-call away which makes me feel so much better. I really don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s amazing.’

‘You should have invited her along. I would have loved to have met the woman who helped you out. She sounds fantastic. You can never have too many good friends.’

‘No, I don’t think she would have enjoyed it.’ Jessica shook her head and blinked up at the sun. ‘She’s got her own things going on at the moment. New relationship, work… Plus, I felt I needed to come here alone. It might have been awkward for her, with the funeral and everything.’

Silence descended as they both thought about what lay ahead during Jessica’s time in Bluebell Hill. It was going to be a difficult time for both of them, not just Jessica. Esme had worked for the McAdams family for a long time.

‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. The funeral would have darkened the visit, so it’s probably best that she stayed at home.’ Esme nodded firmly.

When they’d been following the lane for what felt like forever, Jessica finally saw the first signs of civilisation in Bluebell Hill. She glanced behind herself at the way they’d come, the bluebells looking resplendent cascading down the hill.

‘Nearly there!’ Esme announced cheerfully. ‘I can’t wait for you to see the cottage. The flowers are almost in full bloom and the garden looks splendid. And having you here with me? It’s going to be just like the old days.’ Esme stopped abruptly when she saw the expression that flickered across Jessica’s face. ‘Well, not exactly like the old days of course… Things are different now…’ She trailed off awkwardly.

‘It’s okay,’ Jessica decided as they passed a few homes on either side of the lane. ‘We’re not going to be able to avoid it forever. Anyway, we’ve talked about me. What about you? What have you been doing since I’ve been gone?’

Esme waved to an elderly woman who was watering flowers in her front garden. ‘Well, I’ve just been pottering about, really. Nothing much has changed for me.’

‘And are you still enjoying living in Bluebell Hill?’

Esme stopped abruptly. ‘I am, more so now because you’re here. Do you know Jessica, not a single day went by where I didn’t think of you, or wonder how you were, or how life was treating you. I’d always hoped that you’d return to Bluebell Hill sooner, but I also knew, deep down, that you wouldn’t. I knew how desperate you were to get away, so why on earth would you come back?’

Jessica nodded slowly, unsure of how to reply. She knew that nothing would excuse the way she’d ran off and ignored Esme’s existence once she’d settled in London. The only answer she had was that she’d been so desperate to get away from it all and the strength of that desperation had led to forcing away the memory of Bluebell Hill, including the people who lived there. She felt guilty that Esme had held such hope that she’d return to visit, and that she’d never phoned or sent a letter, just to let her know that she’d been okay. She guessed she’d just got carried away with it all, and who could blame her for taking her new and exciting life with both hands and living it to the full?

***

Esme beamed with pride as she looked upon her home. She paused in front of it and beckoned Jessica forward to share in her delight. Although the exterior of Esme’s cottage was a bit crumbly, the celebration of colour surrounding it was enough to make any passer-by stop and stare and completely overlook the cottage itself.

Ruby reds, luscious pinks, dandelion yellows and sun-kissed oranges, it was layer upon layer of rainbow-like chaos and it took Jessica’s breath away as she stood still and admired it with an open mouth, seriously impressed.

‘It’s probably in need of a tidy-up,’ Esme commented as they drew near and Jessica was able to see the ivy crawling over the roof and the stone exterior of the cottage. It was a fairy-tale home through and through. Esme pushed open the wooden gate which emitted a small squeak and ducked beneath the wooden trellis, ivy twisting in and out of the framework prettily, tiny bursts of vivid colour poking through the greenery.

‘No, I think it looks lovely as it is. It’s so beautiful.’

Esme smiled. ‘I’m so glad you like it, dear. It’s my favourite thing to look at. No doubt it’ll grow even wilder once summer is here. I can’t wait to see it. Anyway, come inside and let’s have a cup of tea. I need to check on that stew, don’t want to overcook it, especially as it’s your “Welcome home!” meal.’

Esme breezed into the cottage, humming a merry tune as she disappeared. Left alone, Jessica felt the old familiar feeling of being at home coming over her. Esme and her cottage were capable of that. They always had been. She closed her eyes momentarily and allowed the moment to wash over her, revelling in the sense of calm. Before following Esme inside, she freed her phone from her pocket and tapped out a quick text to Sarah.

‘Here now. It feels okay, not as bad I thought, although still a bit scary. Hope you’re okay. Will keep you updated. J x’

Her phone beeped almost instantly and she smiled as she opened the message and read it, imagining the words being read aloud in Sarah’s voice.

‘Missing you already. You can do this, I promise. Just think of those rugged men fanning us with giant palm leaves on a tropical beach. If that doesn’t help, then I’m here whenever you need me. S x’

Phone back in pocket, she made her way up the cobble-stones and into the cottage.

***

Over a bowl of steaming beef stew later that evening, Jessica curled up in one of the two armchairs that sat beside the crackling fireplace in her pyjamas and listened to Esme as she talked about her friend Jane who had recently fallen ill. It was clear that Esme was very fond of Jane. She hadn’t stopped talking about her since they’d sat down. Jessica guessed that Esme was trying to fill the space between them with chatter, avoiding the tricky subjects.

‘I’ve been popping in and out, making Jane baskets full of food to eat while she recuperates,’ Esme continued. ‘She’s a very close friend of mine and such a lovely old dear, but she’s so lonely. Her husband, Rupert, passed away a couple of years ago, and since then, she’s been steadily going downhill.’ Esme frowned. ‘I think me visiting her is probably the only thing that she has to look forward to. Oh, but we do have a good old natter when we’re together and I enjoy the company myself. I’m just grateful to have a friend.’ Esme dipped a slice of bread into her stew and stared into the flickering flames in the fireplace as she ate, lost in her thoughts and memories.

‘She’s lucky to have you, and you her,’ Jessica commented as she finished off her own bowl of stew. It was one of the truest things she had ever said. Since she could remember, Esme had always been one of the kindest, most genuine women she’d ever met. She had a heart of a gold, arms that were made for carrying children to bed when they’d long since fallen asleep and a face that could make you spill all of your secrets. She was trustworthy and honest, too. Some of the best traits a person could have.

‘Did you still speak to my parents once I left?’ Jessica blurted out once the silence had stretched on for too long. She’d been dying to ask the question. She had to know, and they needed to address the subject.

‘I did.’ Esme nodded slowly. ‘Only very rarely, though. I popped up to Bluebell House every now and again but a lot of the time they were out at work. Sometimes I’d stroll up there and look at the house, remembering my days spent there. Thinking of you. Probably would have looked like a crazy woman if anyone had ever seen me standing there like that but I have an old, sentimental heart and it likes to return to the past sometimes.’

‘That night, once I’d left for London, what happened afterwards?’ Jessica sat up a little straighter and moved closer towards Esme. She was eager to hear the answer to her question. She’d always wondered about it, whenever she’d allowed herself to think about all that had happened back then. She placed her bowl onto the floor beside the armchair. ‘What did they say to you when they realised I wasn’t there? Did they want to know where I had gone? Did they seem bothered? I mean, I’d been expecting them to come and drag me right back but... I heard nothing, Esme. I gave up in the end. On hoping to hear from them, I mean. I felt stupid. I suppose I’d hoped for some attention from them for once in my life, but it was pointless for me to want that, wasn’t it? What did they say to you, Esme? Anything?’ She could hear the desperation in her voice. She didn’t like the sound of it but she couldn’t help it.

Esme clasped her hands together in her lap as if preparing herself for the conversation. ‘When I returned from the station on the night you left, Bluebell House was empty, as it so often was. They were both still working at the hospital so I waited until gone midnight for them to return. When they eventually did, I told them that I needed to have a word in the kitchen. I explained that you’d left, and then passed on the letter that you’d written. They read it together and afterwards, they asked if I had a number to reach you on. I told them that I did, but I’d been told by you that you didn’t want to hear from them. That you were starting fresh, somewhere new. They were beside themselves with worry but I managed to reassure them that you’d find your way and you’d be okay. You had a good head on your shoulders and you didn’t want to be cooped up in Bluebell Hill forever. You wanted to see the rest of the world and begin your own adventure. I told them how you felt, but left the letter to explain everything else. They did care, Jessica. I promise you, they did. They cried that night, kept saying that they’d done it all wrong, that they’d have done it all different if they’d have had the chance. But you’d already gone.’

Jessica nodded. ‘I forgot I’d said that, about not wanting them to contact me.’ She felt a sharp stab of pain in her chest as she wondered whether they would have got in touch if she’d allowed them to. But they’d listened to her and obeyed her orders to not contact her. Perhaps they’d seen that and taken it as their chance to finally do something right when it came to their daughter. ‘It was so messy wasn’t it?’ she murmured quietly, remembering the hurt and pain, the emotions that had turned her against her parents towards the end. ‘I was so angry, so frustrated with them.’ Her hands clenched at the memory of it. She was older now, and wiser, she hoped. Still, her childhood would never be looked upon with fond memories and that would always be a bitter pill to swallow. Most people remembered summer holidays and BBQs, but she remembered wishing it was her parents who had collected her when the school day had finished rather than Esme.

‘I tried to phone the number that you left a few days later, Jessica,’ Esme said quietly. ‘I was worrying about you but when I dialled the number it cut off and said that it was no longer in service.’ Esme’s eyes glittered with tears as she turned to her. ‘You changed your number, didn’t you?’

Jessica swallowed as it all began to come back to her. It was as if she’d unconsciously locked all of those memories away into a box and only now were they beginning to resurface. ‘I did,’ she whispered. How could she have forgotten that? She’d snapped her sim card into two and chucked it away. She’d seen it as the first step to cutting herself off completely from her previous life. ‘I’m sorry, Esme. I truly am.’ She lowered her eyes. How could she have done that to Esme? She’d treated the woman awfully. She knew that no matter how much she tried to dress the hurtful truth up with her explanations and excuses, she’d still hurt Esme more than she’d known. She realised that now.

Neither of them spoke or moved until Esme’s hand reached across the small gap between the two armchairs and clasped Jessica’s. She gave it a tight, comforting squeeze. She’d always looked upon her as a daughter rather than a child who she’d been hired to look after. ‘You’re here now, Jessica. Perhaps a few years late but you’re here, and that’s all that matters, my dear. That’s all that has ever mattered to me.’

Chapter Three

On the morning of her parents’ funeral, Jessica dressed slowly. She could hear Esme pottering about in the kitchen below but didn’t feel ready to go downstairs and face the day ahead. She wasn’t quite sure what was expected of her, of how to react or whether she was supposed to cry or remain passive-faced. It was such a weird situation and she felt so emotionally abnormal.

She tugged her hair up into a ponytail and stared at herself in the mirror above the chest of drawers.

The churning, twisting feeling that had appeared after the very first phone call with Esme returned to her as she studied her reflection warily. The strange thing was, her reflection looked calm and untroubled. Her lips didn’t quiver, her eyes weren’t wet with tears and she didn’t have shadows beneath them that would hint at the restless nights. Instead, she looked normal, and completely unaffected by the news of her parents’ death. For the millionth time, she questioned whether she was emotionless. She’d thought about it a lot lately, about how it didn’t seem normal for her to be reacting in this way. Most people would have been racked with guilt, sore-eyed from the crying and frail from grief taking over the need for food. There was definitely a thump of sadness when she thought clearly about them and that they were no longer present but then, she’d never felt like they’d been present when they’d been alive anyway, so what was the difference now? She was sure, too, that the sadness only made itself known because of the fact that now there really would be no second chances, no opportunities to make things right. It was the same sort of feeling a person would get when trying to fall asleep after having a bad argument with someone that they cared about, that niggling feeling that burrowed away because you knew that you wouldn’t get a wink of sleep until things were sorted out and back to normal. But things had never been normal, so really, this situation had no other state to return to.

Her childhood had been spent under the watchful, adoring eye of Esme who had been employed by her parents as Jessica’s nanny. Miriam and Arthur McAdams had worked non-stop, leaving Jessica in the care of Esme day in, day out. They had important, busy jobs, on-call 24/7, called upon to deal with emergencies. She’d rarely set eyes on them, even when, at the age of five, she’d sat at the top of the staircase and waited for them to walk through the door. She’d refused to go to bed when prompted by Esme. In the end, unable to keep her eyes open a second longer, she’d fallen asleep with her forehead against the wooden banister. Esme had had to scoop her up and tuck her into her bed.