The Inn On Bluebell Lane

Gwen was nervous and excited to officially unveil the new B&B . . .

CRAIG threw his backpack down and started rummaging in the cupboards for a snack, seemingly unconcerned by his sister’s no-show.

“Did Jess say anything to you?” Ellie asked as she started picking up the clutter of coats, backpacks and lunch boxes that always ended up in a heap.

“Nope.” Craig spoke through a mouthful of Nutella.

“Are you sure, Craig? And what do you mean, you didn’t see her at school today? Do you normally?”

Craig was year seven while Jess was year nine. Ellie couldn’t imagine their paths crossed too frequently.

“I dunno. I didn’t see her.” Craig shrugged.

“But where do you think she would have gone? She would normally text me if she was off somewhere.”

Although Jess hadn’t been “off somewhere” since they’d moved to Llandrigg.

Ellie supposed she should be happy that her daughter might finally have somewhere to go, and someone to go with, but she still wanted answers.

Craig dipped a spoon into the Nutella jar again, and Ellie snatched it from him.

“That’s enough of that. Are you sure you don’t know anything?”

“Well . . .” He screwed up his face. “I know she was upset.”

“Upset?” Ellie’s anxiety tightened every muscle. “Why?”

“Something on the music board.”

“What?” Ellie stared at him.

“Some jokers put up photos of her and Sophie.”

“Sophie? Is that the friend she’s singing with?” “Yeah.”

“What kind of photos?” “Just pictures of them. But they’d written ‘Nerds’ over their faces.”

“Oh, no . . .”

How could people – children – be so cruel? Jess had only been at the school for a month.

That was why she was in such a bad mood last night, Ellie realised.

But what did it have to do with her not being on the bus?

Then she remembered the duffel bag Jess had bumped down the stairs, claiming it was full of outfits for her and Sophie.

But what if it wasn’t? What if it was clothes for Jess? What if her daughter was running away?

Panic iced Ellie’s insides. She had to ring Matthew.

“Mum . . .” Jacob tugged on her sleeve. “Jess is going to be OK, isn’t she?”

Ellie gave him a distracted smile as she rang Matthew.

He had stayed at the hospital with Gwen, but he might have turned off his phone.

“Mum?” Jacob said again, looking anxious.

The phone switched to voicemail.

“Yes, she’ll be fine, Jacob,” Ellie said. “We just need to find her.”

An hour crept by with painstaking slowness, each minute seeming endless.

Ellie could not keep herself from calling Jess every five minutes, even though it continued to switch to voicemail, as did Matthew’s phone.

Why was no-one picking up? Should she call the police, or was that an overreaction? It wasn’t even five o’clock in the evening. The police would probably ask her to wait.

But what if they didn’t? Panic made her feel paralysed.

Another half hour passed while Ellie made dinner and left more messages for Matthew and Jess.

Then, finally, Matthew rang her.

“I’m just leaving the hospital now . . . is Jess home yet?”

He sounded so relaxed that Ellie didn’t know whether to scream or laugh at herself. Jess was fifteen, after all.

“No. Craig says she’d been bullied.” “Bullied –”

“I’m worried she might have run away.” Ellie’s voice trembled.

“She had a big duffel bag with her this morning. She said it was outfits for her friend . . .”

“I’ll be home in fifteen minutes,” Matthew said. “We’ll figure it out.” “Should I call the police?” He hesitated, and in that second’s silence Ellie felt the terrible weight of his fear as well as her own.

“I suppose you should,” he said heavily.

It felt utterly surreal to dial 999. Ellie felt numb as she explained the situation.

So calm she seemed a bit unfeeling, at least to Ellie, the dispatcher went through the rote questions.

Had she called or texted Jess? Had there been any calls from school regarding her absence? Was she unhappy?

Tears stung Ellie’s eyes as she answered the last one in a whisper.

“I think she was.” “Nine times out of ten, a teenager shows up after causing a bit of worry,” the dispatcher told her, but the words were far from comforting.

What about the tenth time?

“We’ll send two police officers over to your house,” the dispatcher said.

Ellie had only just ended the call when Matthew burst through the door.

“Is she home?” he demanded, and Ellie shook her head miserably.

Ava, Jacob and Craig, all three of them now sensing the severity of the situation, clustered around.

“Where could she be?” Matthew wondered.

Where would Jess possibly go? How would she get there?

What if, Ellie wondered with a clutch of fear, her little girl was wandering the streets of a city somewhere, adrift and alone as darkness fell?

The thought was utterly terrifying. Jess didn’t have any real street sense. She was a suburban kid.

She’d never even taken a train on her own.

As Ellie and Matthew stared at each other in growing fear, the lights of a police car washed the room in blue and red.

“Mum?”

Gwen’s eyes fluttered open and she straightened in her hospital bed at the sight of Suzanne, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

“Suzanne. I’m so glad you’ve come. I was meaning to ring you last night but unfortunately events overtook me.” Gwen smiled wryly, but her daughter didn’t return it.

Suzanne looked completely miserable as she perched on the chair next to Gwen’s bed.

“I should have been the one to ring. And I should have come earlier. Matt texted me last night . . .”

“It’s all right, Suzanne,” Gwen said gently.

“I know you’ve been angry with me, and you’re right to be. I never should have said what I did. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not that.” Suzanne’s eyes filled with tears and Gwen reached for her hand.

“I mean, it is, but I’m not angry. I was just . . . hurt.”

She confessed the emotion in a shuddering breath; Gwen knew how hard it was for her.

Suzanne had always wanted to be strong, shrugging aside sympathy, determined to be the one who had it all together.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” Gwen said quietly. “I shouldn’t have –”

“But that’s the thing, Mum,” Suzanne interjected. “You should have. The last thing I want to be is hard work to you.”

Ellie felt numb as she explained the situation

“You’re not –”

“I obviously am.” Suzanne let out a wobbly laugh as she freed her hand from Gwen’s to wipe her eyes.

“And you know what? I know I am. I know I fuss, and I even know it annoys you.

“But I just feel like I have to do something.” Gwen smiled at that. “I know,” she said softly. “And the truth is . . . I wanted to seem in control of your treatment because everything else in my life is going pear-shaped.

“I couldn’t handle any more.”

“What?” Gwen frowned. “Suzanne, what’s been going on?”

“I didn’t want to admit anything was going wrong at all.

“But the truth is Owen is having trouble in school, and Mairi has fallen out with her friends.

“Or rather, they’ve fallen out with her.

“She’s miserable, poor thing. And David’s got a new boss who doesn’t like the way he does things. So there’s that stress, too.” “Oh, love . . .”

“But I didn’t want to burden you with any of it, and the truth is, I didn’t want anyone to know.

“You seemed so busy with the bed and breakfast, and Matt and Ellie . . .” Suzanne let out another shuddery breath.

“And frankly, I was jealous. I’ve been here all along and you’ve never asked me to help with the bed and breakfast.”

Gwen opened her mouth and Suzanne held up a hand.

“I know, I know. I

never acted as if I wanted to help. “And maybe I didn’t want to, Mum, but I suppose I wanted to be asked.”

Suzanne gave a watery smile and Gwen’s heart expanded with love.

How, at her age, could she not have realised her daughter’s hard, prickly shell hid a soft vulnerability beneath?

“Suzanne, I’m so glad you’ve said all this,” Gwen said.

“You have no idea how much. I should have realised, blind fool that I am. But I know now.”

She reached once more for her daughter’s hand.

“I want you to be involved, Suzanne. Your house is so beautiful . . . I could surely use your decorating skills!” Suzanne made a face. “What about Ellie?” “What about her?”

“I don’t feel as if we really get on. And admittedly, I haven’t made that much effort.

“I sent her a text yesterday that probably terrified her.”

Gwen smiled.

“I think Ellie feels a bit lost and adrift,” she said quietly.

“She’s just made an enormous move, and it takes time to adjust. I know she’d appreciate your friendship, Suzanne.

“Your genuine friendship, not just you showing her how well you know Llandrigg.”

Suzanne let out a surprised laugh.

“Ouch. You are telling me like it is, aren’t you?”

“In love,” Gwen assured her. “For your sake as well as everyone else’s.”

“So I can’t fuss with your pillows?”

“Or bother the nurses,” Gwen said sternly. “No. But you can do the crossword with me. Or just sit with me in the quiet.”

Suzanne’s expression grew serious and a bit teary.

“I’d love that, Mum.” Gwen smiled. How was it, she wondered, that it took so much heartache for her family to find their way to each other again?

Matthew and Ellie, her and Suzanne . . . she was hopeful that bridges were being mended, or built.

“Thank you, Suzanne,” Gwen said. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Suzanne let out a laugh as she slapped her knees.

“Right, that’s enough mushiness! How about a cup of tea?”

Heathrow Airport was enormous. And heaving with people, everyone seeming as if they were in a very important rush.

Jess clutched her duffel bag and tried not to look as panicked as she felt.

Her plane left in three hours. It had taken ages to get to the airport; she was glad she’d left lots of time.

That morning she’d texted Sophie asking her to tell her form tutor that she was sick at home.

Admittedly, a parent was meant to ring, but Jess hoped that Sophie, being a model student, would give her some credibility.

It did, although Sophie herself wasn’t happy.

Where are you? she’d texted. And then, making Jess feel guilty, Are we still friends?

She shouldn’t have ignored Sophie yesterday, she knew. It had been a rotten thing to do, and yet she’d been so miserable. Yes, of course we are, she texted back. Sorry about yesterday. I was just really upset.

Sophie texted again. Where are you?

Jess had replied, Just

need a day off, and then she’d switched her phone off.

It was better, she decided, if people couldn’t get in touch with her.

The bus to the railway station in Abergavenny hadn’t been so bad, but the train from there to London Paddington had been endless, with two changes.

It had been hard enough navigating the stations; she wondered how on earth she would manage the airport.

Jess still couldn’t quite believe she’d done it.

She’d bought a ticket to New York’s JFK on her mother’s credit card and the train ticket to London.

She’d packed her clothes and managed the bus and train, and she’d even worked up the courage to ask a porter in Paddington how to get Heathrow.

He’d been kindly rather than suspicious, and directed her to the Heathrow Express train, which Jess hadn’t paid for.

As she no longer had her mother’s credit card, she’d had to empty her own meagre bank account to buy the ticket, but by three o’clock – just when she should have been getting on the school bus – she arrived at Heathrow.

Checking in had been easy enough, and she could take her duffel bag as hand luggage so she didn’t have to talk to anyone who might be suspicious of a teenage girl travelling alone.

Going through security had been a bit alarming; she’d forgotten to take off her shoes, and she’d held up the queue, to several people’s irritation.

But she’d managed it, and now she was here on the concourse, everyone rushing by, and all she needed to do was find her gate and get on the plane.

Get on the plane . . . could she really do it? Did she even want to any more?

She’d Snapchatted Cora with a picture of her in the airport, but it had taken Cora over an hour to reply.

And when she had, it hadn’t exactly been encouraging – just a couple of exclamation points.

And then Cora had posted a picture on Instagram of her and Emily giving each other makeovers after school.

Jess’s stomach had cramped when she saw it.

What happened to Emily being fake?

Had Cora even told her mother that Jess was coming? And how was she supposed to get from JFK to Cora’s house in Connecticut?

It had been relatively easy to get this far, but Jess was starting to have serious doubts about the rest of her journey.

And what about her parents? It was after five now. They had to be beside themselves with worry.

Or maybe they just assumed she was out with a friend and would be home for dinner.

Jess pictured the table in Granny’s kitchen laden with food, the room warm and cosy as darkness fell.

She pictured Ava asking her to colour after dinner – Jess always said no – and Jacob doing a puzzle.

Even Craig wasn’t so bad, though he could be annoying.

This morning, as they’d got on the bus, he’d said sorry for teasing her.

Jess’s eyes stung. She missed her family . . . but how could she go back?

And the problems at school wouldn’t go away. She took a deep breath and tried not to cry.

What she needed to do was find her gate. She’d sit down and catch her breath.

She’d already decided she wouldn’t text her mum until she was on the plane, so she couldn’t be stopped, but now she wanted to let her parents know where she was.

Weighed down with her duffel bag, she lumbered towards her gate and collapsed into a plastic chair.

When Jess slid her phone out of her pocket, it lit up like a firework.

Eight missed calls, six new text messages and four new voicemails.

So her parents were worried, and for some reason that made Jess feel the happiest she’d been all day.

“We are now boarding Flight 765 to New York JFK,” a voice intoned on a Tannoy. Jess tensed.

“Could those in boarding section D please come to the gate.”

Jess checked her boarding pass – she was in section C. The moment of truth was almost upon her.

She glanced down at her phone, scrolling through the texts from her mum. Jess, where are you? I’m worried. Craig says you weren’t at

school. Whatever is wrong, we can work it out. Please ring and let me know you’re safe. I love you, Jess. So much.

Tears stung Jess’s eyes. “Would those in boarding section C now please come to the gate.”

Jess watched as everyone headed in an impatient herd towards the gate. It was now or never. Quickly, Jess checked her Snapchats – nothing from Cora.

Another look at Instagram; Cora and Emily were having an unheard-of midweek sleepover. What was she doing? “Would boarding section B come to the gate . . .”

Recklessly, Jess swiped her phone. The call was picked up after half a ring. “Jess?”

She took a deep breath, her voice wobbling. “Mum?”

“Oh, Jess, Jess.” Ellie’s voice came out in a sob of relief.

“Where are you, darling? We’ll come and get you. Are you safe?”

“Yes, I’m OK.” Her daughter sounded so sad and so small.

“I’m . . . at Heathrow.” “Heathrow!” Ellie’s mind spun.

“I wanted to go home.” Home. Ellie closed her eyes. She had a dozen questions, but those could wait for later.

“Which terminal, Jess?” she asked. “We’ll come right away to collect you.”

It was a three-hour drive without traffic, and it was already six o’clock at night. But none of that mattered.

All Ellie wanted was her daughter safe at home.

Home. This was home now, but clearly for Jess it hadn’t been.

“Umm . . . terminal five.” “All right. Sit tight, sweetheart. Maybe find a café. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Ellie disconnected the call with a shuddery breath.

“She’s OK,” she told everyone. Matthew, Ava, Craig and Jacob breathed a collective sigh of relief. “She’s at Heathrow.”

Matthew looked flummoxed.

“I suppose I’d better let the police know she’s OK.”

The officers had only left a few minutes ago, after taking Jess’s details.

Ellie had struggled not to break down as she’d explained.

“I think she’s had trouble settling here,” she’d said, and it had felt like a confession.

Why hadn’t she realised how unhappy her daughter was?

“I’ll drive to Heathrow,” she told Matthew.

“Are you sure? It’s a long way . . .”

“I want to,” Ellie said quietly. “Jess and I argued last night. I can’t help but feel it contributed to her running away.”

“We’ll get through this, Ellie,” Matthew promised her as he hugged her.

She nodded, her cheek pressed against his shirt, trying to hold back tears.

It felt as if everything had fallen apart, and yet here they were, building it back up again. Together, just as Matthew had said.

Perhaps you needed hard things to happen in order to realise what was important.

The three-hour drive to Heathrow along dark, rainy stretches of motorway felt endless. It was just after nine when Ellie arrived at terminal five.

She texted Jess as she hurried into the terminal, the big, open, bright space making her wince after the darkness of the car.

She hurried towards the coffee bar where Jess had said she was waiting, scanning the faces of weary and jet-lagged travellers. “Mum!”

Ellie jerked round and then let out an exclamation of pure relief as Jess hurried towards her.

“Oh, Jess.” She pulled her daughter into her arms.

“I’m so sorry, Mum.” Jess’s shoulders shook as she pressed her face into Ellie’s shoulder.

“I’ve made such a mess of everything.”

“You haven’t, Jess. I’m so sorry I didn’t realise you were going through such a hard time. Craig mentioned something –”

“The noticeboard?” Jess confirmed with a ragged sigh. “Yeah. But it didn’t have to be such a big deal.”

“This has been hard on you, Jess. Perhaps on you most of all, since you’re older. I’m sorry I haven’t been more understanding.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult. Especially with Granny being so sick.” Jess drew back, her face pale with anxiety. “Is she OK?”

“She’s doing much better on the antibiotics. She’ll be home in a few days.” Ellie hugged her again. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“I bought a plane ticket, Mum,” Jess confessed. “On your credit card. I’m sorry. I’ll pay you back . . .”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ellie said firmly.

They could sort out the repercussions and consequences later. “Let’s just get you home.” Exhausted, Jess curled up in the passenger seat and was asleep by the time Ellie pulled on to the M4.

She glanced across at her daughter, looking so young and vulnerable, and her heart ached with love.

She realised afresh how, in the midst of her own difficult adjustment to life in Llandrigg, she had forgotten to look beneath the sulks and scowls of her children.

They’d been having a hard time, too.

But now, she hoped and prayed, they’d be able to pull together.

By the time Ellie pulled into Bluebell Lane at nearly one a.m., she was grittyeyed with fatigue.

Matthew met her at the door, pulling her into his arms for a quick hug before he went to help a very sleepy Jess into the house.

“It’s going to be OK,” he told her once Jess was settled in bed.

“I know this has been hard, Ellie, hard on all of us in different ways.

“But we will get through this, stronger than ever.”

Ellie smiled at him, utterly weary yet also unbelievably thankful. “I know,” she said. “Did I tell you my idea for the B and B?” Matthew said.

Ellie let out a tired laugh. She hadn’t thought about the B&B once today.

“No, I don’t think you did.”

“Well, along the lines you were talking about, I was thinking of making an obstacle course for kids in the garden. Using some old tyres and things like that.

“It’s about my speed when it comes to carpentry, and Craig and Jacob could help, too.”

Ellie climbed into bed. “I think,” she said as she let out a yawn, “that sounds brilliant.”

****

It was a beautiful day in early May, six months since Jess had gone to the airport, and everything sparkled with sunlight and dew, the world reborn.

Bluebell Family Bed and Breakfast was having a rebirth as well.

A bright blue ribbon was stretched between the gateposts and a new sign, painted by a local artist, stood proudly by the gate.

The farmhouse was freshly whitewashed, the shutters at every window painted the exact shade of the bluebells that clustered in shady corners of the garden.

“Where should I put this, Granny?” Jess asked as she came outside with a pitcher of fresh American-style lemonade.

It had been her idea to incorporate some of their American heritage into the B&B, including fluffy pancakes and maple syrup for breakfast, and an American flag flying by the Welsh one in the garden.

“On the table there, by the gazebo,” Gwen said.

She felt both excited and nervous for the day – what if no-one showed up?

Or what if too many did, and they ran out of the gorgeous pistachio macaroons Suzanne had baked for the occasion?

She could hardly believe they’d accomplished so much in such a short amount of time.

They had all come together to create something new and unique, and it had involved the

whole village.

Each bedroom had a handmade cover quilted by a local craftswoman, and a hand-thrown pottery jug of flowers, also made locally.

The honey, butter, milk and jam had all been made locally or by Gwen herself, who had finished her last course of chemotherapy six weeks ago, and was officially in remission.

It had been a long, hard six months in many ways, but Gwen was thankful to be where she was – standing on her own feet, with her family around her.

“Everything’s ready, Mum,” Matthew said as he joined her by the gazebo, where she was fussing with the plates of macaroons.

“Don’t worry so much. It’s going to be great.”

Over the last few months Matthew had really got into the spirit of the place.

He’d made the obstacle course with Craig and Jacob, as well as an epic treehouse that spanned the three oaks clustered at the bottom of the garden, a rope swing, and a new chicken coop that Ava had named “Chicken Inn”.

With his help, they’d turned the B&B’S garden into a children’s paradise.

And today everyone in the village was coming to celebrate their success.

Gwen could hardly believe how many people had shown an interest.

She knew Ellie had got to know quite a few people in Llandrigg over the winter, and while Gwen suspected her daughter-in-law didn’t quite feel like a local yet, she would one day.

She’d silently rejoiced to see a new friendship spring up between Suzanne and Ellie, as Suzanne and David had both become more involved in the B&B.

Gwen’s gaze travelled over the garden to Jess, who was heading back inside for more lemonade.

Jess had also blossomed over the winter.

Her granddaughter had settled into a solid friendship with Sophie, as well as her cousin, Mairi.

All in all, Jess was happy in school, as were her other three grandchildren.

They all still had their ups and downs, but they were thankful, and they were a team, and today was their big day.

“What if no-one comes?” Gwen asked Matthew, who pointed to the lane.

With a disbelieving laugh, Gwen caught sight of the crowds already coming from the village. It looked as if everyone in Llandrigg was showing up.

They were already fully booked for June and July, a prospect that was both terrifying and thrilling.

“Ready, Mum?” Matthew asked. “I think you should be the one to officially begin the festivities.” “Very well.”

With a smile Matthew went to fetch a pair of scissors while Gwen surveyed the garden.

Ava was running through the area they’d cultivated into a meadow of wild flowers, chasing a butterfly. Jacob and his best friend Zach were hunting for snails in a muddy patch.

Craig was kicking a football with his cousin Owen, and Jess was giggling and whispering with Sophie and Mairi.

Gwen’s heart expanded with thankfulness at it all.

“I think we’re ready,” Matthew announced as he handed her the scissors, and with a determined smile, Gwen started towards the gate.

She’d lost her hair thanks to the chemo, and now had a collection of colourful headscarves.

She was also thinner, but had a wiry strength and a sparkle in her eyes.

Everyone gathered as she stood in front of the gate, the wide blue satin ribbon stretching across the lane.

Matthew slipped his arm around Ellie’s waist as Ava tugged on her hand.

Suzanne and David stood nearby, and Ellie shared a smile with Suzanne.

Gwen raised the scissors high as she looked around at everyone assembled, a thankful smile on her face.

“The Bluebell Family Bed and Breakfast is now officially open!”

The End.