Nineteen
Part Four: Got my feet on holy ground
Cat Tinsall was standing by the window, stirring the Christmas pudding, looking out as dark clouds rolled over the hills, threatening a cold and rainy night. The kids would be in from school soon, and her granddaughter Lou Lou was upstairs having a nap. She was glad to be in her cosy warm kitchen, with a cup of tea, and her husband, Noel, who was working from home today, sitting at the table on his laptop.
‘Bugger!’ Noel was angrily staring at his computer screen as if by some miracle it could tell him some happier news.
‘Problem?’ Cat asked.
‘Not sure,’ said Noel. ‘But it looks like we’ve been gazumped again on some land to the north of Shrewsbury Ralph and I have been looking at. We were planning to build affordable starter homes, but this firm, LK Holdings, seems to have got in there first. That’s the second time in the last few months. They’re acquiring a hell of a lot of land in the area. We’ll have to look for somewhere else. Damn. That was such a good spot, and so needed.’
Cat smiled fondly at her husband, his fair hair might be greying now, but his eyes were the same dazzling blue, and thanks to a strict gym regime, Noel was still as attractive to her as the day they met. And bless him, he was always saying the same about her, though her figure wasn’t quite as trim as it once was, and her own fair hair was going to need some help from the hairdresser soon.
She wandered over, still mixing her pudding, to see what had fired him up now. Noel was at his most passionate when talking about sustainable development, a subject he cared about deeply. And so much happier here in the picturesque village of Hope Christmas, working for Ralph Nicholas, a local landowner who ran a small family business, than when he’d worked for a big engineering firm in London and felt all his principles being compromised on a daily basis. One of the many good things about making a home, here, was the new lease of life Noel had gained from the move.
‘Never mind,’ she reassured him, ‘I’m sure you’ll find something else.’
‘It’s not just that,’ said Noel, looking pensive. ‘I’ve heard a rumour that LK Holdings are sniffing around Hope Christmas. They’re big in the leisure business, and want to build a luxury development here.’
‘Really?’ said Cat surprised. Hope Christmas was the kind of place that supported upmarket B&Bs, rather than big hotels: the last of which had long been sold for a nursing home.
‘Really,’ said Noel. ‘There are one or two large bits of land on the market at the moment. I’d say they’re ripe for the picking. I believe Blackstock Farm has been for sale for several months. I know it’s been empty for a while.’
‘Isn’t that the one opposite Marianne and Gabriel?’ said Cat. Marianne was one of her best friends in Hope Christmas, and partly the reason they’d come here. She’d entered a magazine competition that Cat had run to find the perfect Nativity, when she was still a magazine editor in London. Cat had ended up not just finding that, but when she came up to meet Marianne, she’d also found the perfect place to bring her growing family, and hadn’t had a day’s regret since. ‘They can’t build there, it would be a travesty.’
‘Wouldn’t it just?’ said Noel. ‘I think I’d better contact Ralph. He’s already gone away for Christmas, but he’ll want to know about this.’
Cat stared out at the darkening sky, towards the hills of the town she loved. She hoped that Noel was wrong. Hope Christmas was perfect the way it was: small enough to have a really strong community, big enough that you weren’t living in anyone else’s pockets. The last thing it needed was a major development, and she and Noel would do anything to protect the place they loved so much.
A chill wind blew down the valley, as Marianne North struggled up the lane from the village with the double buggy. Her three-year-old twins, Harry and Daisy, were perfectly capable of walking, but they were jacking up today, and it seemed easier to push them. As a few icy raindrops started to fall from a dark, angry sky, she was glad she’d wrapped them up warm. Pausing to tighten her coat against the wind and tucking her dark curls