An Intruder At Sunnybrook Cottage

Georgie discovers the village’s mystery “ghost”, and makes an unexpected find!

You’ve bought Sunnybrook Cottage!” The woman beams at me. She’s holding a black Labrador by the leash.

“Er, that’s right. I’m Georgie.”

“Maria.”

I take a deep breath. I wanted this; a community, a sense of not being alone. It’s what I left the big city for. I used to live in a block of flats that was regularly targeted by burglars. The last straw had come when someone broke in while I slept. I decided to move to the countryside.

“Well, I must get on,” Maria says. “Oh,” she adds, turning back to me. “Just one thing… don’t leave your door unlocked. There’ve been a couple of incidents recently.”

I try to quell my fear, but can’t stop my eyes widening. “What kind of incidents?”

“Oh, nothing to worry about. Just people getting the feeling someone’s been in their house. The police have been hopeless; there hasn’t been any damage or anything taken, so they say they can’t investigate.”

The cottage garden is bursting with colour and humming with insects. There’s even a greenhouse with some dead plants in it. Next year I’ll plant tomatoes and salad. I’ve never done anything like that, but I can learn.

It’s so quiet. No traffic, no sirens, no drunks shouting in the street, no loud phone conversations underneath my bedroom window at two in the morning. At night, the only noise is the occasional spat between foxes or cats.

I’ve made the right choice. That break-in, coming only two weeks after a break-up, was the final straw. My boyfriend Rob’s parting words still ring in my ears. “You’ll be seeing me, Georgie. Don’t think you can just walk away.”

I’m a freelancer, translating business reports, and only need to be in London once every couple of weeks for meetings

www.myweekly.co.uk and to drum up business. My first trip back is a fortnight after the move. I make the most of it, meeting a friend for lunch and shopping in Oxford Street.

When I get home in the early evening, my nose wrinkles. There’s a musty smell with undertones of perfume. I tell myself it’s because the cottage has been shut up all day. I open the windows and sweet evening air flows in. I change out of my smart clothes and into soft pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt, and pour myself a glass of wine. It is a little lonely, I muse, as I sit outside watching the bees busying themselves in the lavender, but it’s beautiful, and one day I’ll meet someone lovely to share it with.

After I lock up that night, something catches my eye. I’m not the tidiest person, but my mess does have a logic to

Two weeks pass without another incident, so I relax and throw myself into village life. I’m invited to a party, where I’m inspected like a prize cow.

The new arrival – and a single woman!

“So, any trouble with the local poltergeist?” Maria says, sidling up to me with a glass of fizz.

I’m standing in the last corner of sun, near a trailing rose, with the vicar who seems to think it’s his duty to sound me out on my past, my romantic status, my current circumstances.

“I must introduce you to Simon,” he says, indicating a man in ill-fitting corduroy trousers. “He’s a farmer.”

“And a farmer needs a wife,” I say, then giggle. I’ve had too much to drink.

“Well, not immediately, of course,” the vicar responds nervously. “But I like to bring young people together.”

At which point Maria makes her remark about the poltergeist. The vicar visibly shudders and wanders off saying he’s spotted someone he needs to talk to.

“Thought you might need rescuing,” Maria says.

“If you’d left it a couple of more minutes, I reckon I’d have been engaged to Simon over there.” I indicate the farmer with my chin.

Maria grins. “So, all well?”

I consider telling her about the rearranged post, but in hindsight, it feels pretty flimsy, so I leave it be.

“Perfect. I love it here.”

“Good. I felt a bit guilty telling you about the odd goings on when you’d just arrived. I’m sure it was the last thing you wanted to hear, especially living on your own. Did you live alone in London?”

Imake my excuses and go home, walking part of the way with a jolly couple who turn off at the King’s Arms with a wave. It’s so quiet I can hear my shoes tapping on the tarmac road. There are no pavements in this village, a fact that I find disconcerting. Whoever

engagement ring, dear. I never took it off until Michael died, and then I did. I don’t know where I put it.”

James catches my eye. “She lost it before she moved away, but since Sunnybrook’s been owned by several different people over the decades, no one holds out much hope. Personally, I think a magpie must have taken it.” “What shall I do if I find it?”

He laughs, but he picks up a biro and scribbles his number on an old receipt he takes from his pocket. “Call me.”

It turns out that Pat had been a key holder for several of the villagers at the time, and when she left no one had thought to ask her for them back. I was proud to have solved the mystery but had one niggling regret. I liked James. There was something about him that made me feel comforted and excited at the same time.

It’s Autumn, and time to prepare the neglected greenhouse for next spring. I feel a sense of permanence in this place that I never did in London. I use a stiff broom to clear the worst of the debris from the floor and then crouch down to pick up a spiderweb covered brick. Woodlice scuttle from underneath it, leaving behind a round, filth-encrusted object. I pick it up, feel its shape and break into a smile of pure delight. It’s a ring. Back inside, I clean it until it sparkles like new. I can’t help feeling elated. It’ll make Pat happy – and give me an excuse to call her grandson.

“Oh my goodness,” James says when I tell him. “That’s grand. I’ll come over after work.”

“Won’t your wife mind you not going straight home?” I grimace into the silence. That was painfully unsubtle.

“No wife,” he says.

I dance around the room. There’s plenty of time to make myself pretty and chill a bottle of white wine.

Keep Her Quiet by Emma Curtis, Black Swan, PBO, £7.99. Out now. Two women, two babies. Hannah wakes to find her newborn lifeless. Jenny is ecstatic with her new arrival but her husband knows the baby can’t be his. Fast forward 16 years and a newspaper article shatters one girl’s life. Will the truth be deadly? Gripping mum noir.

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As we enter the most sociable time of year, you may think that you have a stark choice. Either you stick to your healthy eating plan, or you accept all those offers of cake, and watch the pounds pile on. Because, we all know, you can’t say yes to cake and still lose weight. Right?

Wrong!

We’ve teamed with the awardwinning nutritionist Judy Watson to devise a diet you’ll love. It includes cakes, lattes, and wine – yet it will boost your health and help you reach your long term weight loss goals in a manageable way.

Judy says, “You’ll be consuming 1300 to 1500 calories a day, including treats of 1 latte or 1 small glass (125ml) of wine daily, and 1 slice of cake.

“To help keep hunger at bay drink 2 litres of fluids throughout the day. This can include up to 1 litre of drinks such as rooibos tea, and

Aqua Libra (light).

“Feel free to mix and match meal options. But eat no more than 2 slices of bread in a week, and pair a red breakfast with up to 200 calories of cake and a blue breakfast with up to 350 calories of cake.”

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