Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange

‘What chapters would I include?’
‘An introduction, about how the site was found I suppose, then the site’s chronological development, each chapter being about a new phase of the site and comparing them with other similar sites elsewhere in the UK. Maybe with separate chapters on Roman military life and why the fort would have been built at Upwich in the first place.’
Helen stopped walking and, squeezing his palm tighter, looked directly at him. ‘That’s it. How did you think of that, just like that?’
He gave a suggestive wink, sending a funny feeling through Helen’s nervous system. ‘I’ve read a lot of Batsford history books. It’s how they’re laid out.’
‘I’ve been going around in mental circles thinking about it.’ Helen stared out across the beautiful landscape. ‘I should have just asked you in the first place. Maybe we should write this together.’
‘Don’t be daft, I’m dyslexic and failed my English GCSE with a style that would be the envy of none. Clever, I’m not.’
Swivelling on the spot, Helen met Tom’s gaze, her expression serious. ‘That’s the first and last time you put yourself down like that. There are many different types of clever, and when the hell did being able to spell brilliantly have anything to do with cleverness anyway? It’s just a skill like any other, but we’re all good at different things in different measures. You had a rough start, you got through it, and you’re here. Got it!’
Tom was too stunned to speak, as Helen pointed along the path. ‘Yes, well. Enough said. The steps are only half a mile away. Come on, I could do with a sit down.’
Despite it being a Saturday, the prehistoric clapper bridge, known as the Tarr Steps, was fairly quiet. Helen could see a few families ahead of them, on the other side of the water. Several dog walkers passed them as they sat on the grass in the sunshine, looking at the ancient spectacle.
‘I think Sam and Tina would be fine about Dylan staying at the manor for a while.’ Helen unhooked her bag, and passed Tom a slice of cake left over from the previous week’s guests. ‘Here, Tina said it was still edible, although I can’t vouch for that yet.’
Smiling into the sunshine, Tom took it. ‘Tina’s lemon cake is always edible. I can’t believe there was some left to bring.’ He held up a flask. ‘Coffee?’
‘Please.’ Helen took a mouthful of cake, murmuring her approval as she chewed. ‘It’s perfect.’
‘Do you think Mabel might like to help me find somewhere to rent?’ He passed Helen a plastic mug of coffee. ‘I’m not bailing on sorting it out myself. I just thought it would be good to give her something to do. She must be bored stiff at home with Bert.’
Helen tilted her head as she regarded Tom carefully.
‘What is it?’ Tom ran a hand over his face. ‘Have I got mud on me or something?’
‘No. I was just thinking that you’re a lot nicer man than you think you are.’ She looked away abruptly. ‘I think Mabel would enjoy that. She’d feel part of things again. And let’s face it, not only does Mabel love to help people, she also has local knowledge. There aren’t many places around Upwich for let, but I bet Mabel knows everyone that owns rented property in the area.’
Tom thought of his small attic room. ‘My bedroom at Mill Grange has two singles in it, so Dylan would be fine for now, assuming Sam was agreeable to him staying. But it’s not a sound long term solution. Dylan has toys and clothes and it won’t be long before he needs his own computer. Schools seem to run homework from them these days. And he’ll want his own space, as will I.’
Helen didn’t voice the thought that popped into her head. Telling him that Dylan could have his room, and he could sleep with her, would only have complicated things. Especially as they hadn’t so much as hugged yet. ‘It will be strange without you living in, although I suppose…’
‘What?’
Helen checked the date on her phone. ‘It depends on how soon Dylan is going to move in with you. What was the plan again, Wednesday to Saturday one week, and Sunday to Wednesday the next?’
‘Yes, that was it.’ Tom put down his empty cup. ‘From the beginning of April. Seemed easiest to start at the beginning of the month.’
‘In that case, you’d only have to share with Dylan for ten or so days before you could have a room each.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘My sabbatical ends on April 10th. I have a holiday off over Easter, but then I have to go back to the Roman Baths. That’s why I’m worried about not having time to write the book. I won’t be here to do it.’

Eleven
Saturday March 21st
Tina spotted the note sticky-taped to the front door of Mabel and Bert’s cottage as she and Sam walked down the drive.
‘Mabel must have gone out for a walk. Probably got a delivery coming or something and doesn’t want Bert disturbed.’
‘I didn’t have Mabel down as an online shopper.’ Sam fished in his pocket for his key ring. ‘Don’t worry, Bert gave me a spare key months ago in case of emergency. We can keep him company while Mabel’s out.’
Tina froze as she got within reading distance of the front door. ‘They’re both out.’ She reached out her arm and grabbed Sam. ‘Oh god. The note’s for us.’
Sam was already reading over Tina’s shoulder. The handwriting was erratic, a far cry from Mabel’s usual neat script.
Sam and Tina, Bert was rushed to Musgrove in night. Didn’t want to call and wake you. M x
‘In the Musgrove.’ Sam slipped his keys back into his pocket and began to walk with purpose back to Mill Grange.
‘But he was so much better yesterday. Why would Bert be in hospital now?’ The clammy hand of fear gripped at Tina’s dry throat.
‘We’ll drive to Taunton right now and find out.’
‘But…’ Tina