Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange

on the table to pay the bill, Tom followed as Sue got up and headed across the café at a speed she’d have disapproved of if Dylan had adopted it.
‘Hello, I’m Sue, Dylan’s mum.’
Tom winced as he heard the stress Sue put on her role in Dylan’s life. He felt embarrassed for his son, as recognising the tone his mother used as one to be wary of, he slid off Mabel’s lap.
Mabel’s face adopted an expression not dissimilar to the one she used when being told a vegan was coming to dinner. ‘I’m Mrs Hastings, and this is my friend, Miss Martin.’ She turned to Dylan, and winked playfully. ‘I’ll tell Bert I’ve seen you. Now be a good boy and we’ll have another chat soon.’
With an apologetic flash of his eyes, Tom ushered Sue and Dylan out of the café as fast as he could.
‘Mrs Hastings and Miss Martin,’ Sue scoffed as Dylan ran ahead of them along the quiet pavement. ‘Stuck up old biddy.’
Grabbing her elbow, Tom spun Sue around so she was looking right at him. ‘Now you listen to me, Mabel is of a time where manners earned respect. If you think you acted like someone who deserved to be introduced on a first name basis, then you are delusional.’
‘She’s stuck in a time warp.’
‘Better that than dismissing your son’s friends as worthless right in front of him! Thank goodness he’s too young to understand quite how rude you were. Don’t forget, if you want me to be there to pick Dylan up from school sometimes, and skip off work so I can do parent’s evenings and such like, they’re the people who’ll be covering for me!’
*
‘She’s just as I imagined, but without pink hair.’
Having dismissed Sue in one sentence, Mabel raised her teacup to her lips. ‘So, Tina love, wedding plans. Tell me everything you’ve sorted out so far.’
‘Very little.’ Tina pulled her wedding planning notebook from her bag. ‘The venue is sorted, but then again, it isn’t.’
‘I don’t understand?’
Tina poured herself another cup of coffee as she told Mabel about Sam’s parents’ wish that they marry at Malvern House. ‘We’ve told them we want to marry here, and that we’d love them to come and see the place, but it’s been very quiet ever since.’
‘I see.’ Mabel lifted her teacup to her lips, hovering it there as she listened.
‘I want to marry at Mill Grange, we’ve even worked out that we can put a marquee over the ground between the chickens and the greenhouse, so we can have the ceremony in the walled garden, and then a couple of small marquees on the main lawn for the reception.’
Finally taking a drink, Mabel said, ‘I can just see that. I bet the old greenhouse would look beautiful with fairy lights all over its old frame.’
‘You don’t think I’m mean asking Sam to break with family tradition and marry here then?’
‘No, and I doubt Sam does either. This is more than your home. This is where you met and where Sam began to recover from his claustrophobia. Anyway, you’re the bride! Tradition usually dictates you get to marry from home.’
 ‘I’m not sure Sam’s family do usual. Sam is convinced his father is behind this, even though his mother was the messenger.’
‘From what I’ve heard of the earl, he does seem to take tradition very seriously.’
Tina twiddled a teaspoon through her fingers and shrugged. ‘Oh well, I’m sure we’ll work it out.’
‘To change the subject a moment, I have news.’ Mabel’s eyes suddenly twinkled, and she put her cup down with a clatter. ‘I was going to tell you straight away, but then I thought I’d wait until we were back at Mill Grange, to tell everyone together, but I can’t wait!’
‘What is it?’
‘Bert’s coming home tomorrow!’
‘Oh my God, that’s fantastic! What a relief.’
‘I thought Sam should be with us when I told you, but, well… I’m so excited, Tina! I know he’ll have to stay at home and just sit around, and I’ll probably get irritated with him. But I’m looking forward to that so much!’
‘Getting irritated with him?’ Tina laughed as Mabel rubbed her hands in delight.
‘Yes. I’ve really missed it.’

Twenty
Saturday March 28th
Telling herself she needed to make a trip to see the remains of Rainsbury Roman fort and Martinshoe fortlet, the only other Roman military installations found on Exmoor so far, in the very near future, Helen sat back on her bed. Her notebook was almost half full. Lists of points to consider, academic papers she had to read, as well as ideas for the data she needed to accumulate from the fortlet itself, from precise measurements to photographs of the best finds.
She knew Tom was back. She could hear Dylan’s voice faintly through the wall as he made the appropriate roaring noises while his dad read him his favourite dinosaur story before bed.
Closing the notebook, Helen stretched out her tired legs and looked around the little room. Its whitewashed walls helped give it a sense of space, even though there wasn’t much. The built-in cupboard, which had been acting as Helen’s wardrobe for half the year, was so crammed full of jumpers, jeans and dungarees that it didn’t shut properly. There was a heap of trainers and walking shoes by the bedroom door. Her coat hung next to the old hoodie she’d been using as a dressing gown since she came to Mill Grange. Helen considered her wardrobe and chest of drawers in her two-bed terrace. They didn’t hold much more in the way of variety when it came to her clothes, apart from her office clothes and the one dress she kept just in case she needed it.
Continuing with her survey of her attic space, seeing how the light from the small window reflected across the room, how the rag mat had been stuck down so you didn’t skid across the polished floor boards, she tried to picture her bedroom at home.
It was twice as big as the old