If a hive needs a new queen bee, the workers can create one. They select a young larva and feed it royal jelly, and the larva will develop into a fertile queen.
June has turned into July and we have barely two weeks until opening day. It’s hard to believe I started this job five weeks ago – it feels like I’ve been here for years, like I’ve always known the ins and outs of a beehive, and like I’ve never not known Carey, but at the same time, I have a sense of things balancing on a knife edge, like one wrong move and everything good that’s happening is going to slip through my fingers and crash down like a house of cards.
‘This is fun,’ he shouts from the other side of the hedge.
‘It’s certainly not a way I imagined spending an evening a few weeks ago,’ I call back, even though as summer evenings go, I’ve definitely had worse.
We’re in the maze trimming the hedge into submission. Carey’s shown me how to use a hedge trimmer, and he’s on one side and I’m on the other. The rest of the grounds are looking better than they were. Carey’s repaired cracked concrete, cut down brambles and spiky thistle plants, doused stinging nettles with a homemade chemical-free weedkiller that won’t harm the bees; the lake is looking cleaner, and between us, we’ve cut paths or laid walkways that meander right around the estate. There’s plenty more to do, but Elderflower Grove is looking better than it has in years.
‘What time is it?’ Carey calls over the whirr of the hedge trimmer.
My hands are occupied so I look at the sky. ‘I don’t know, about eight maybe?’
‘Oh, hell, I’ve gotta go. I’ve got a date.’
The hedge trimmer tilts in my hands and I accidentally scalp a neat corner. My stomach plummets. I had no idea he was dating, and the strength of how sick I feel takes me by surprise. I thought … I don’t know what I thought, but I definitely thought there was something between us, something that wouldn’t have made him want to go on dates with other women.
There’s a crunch of gravel and he appears around the corner of the hedgerow.
‘A date?’ I swallow hard and turn around with the most false smile I’ve ever pasted on. ‘I thought you didn’t date.’
‘I don’t, but sometimes a real vixen comes along and makes an offer you can’t refuse.’
My mouth falls open in shock. ‘Carey! That’s a really disparaging way to talk about a woman!’ I can’t hide my surprise because he’s always seemed so respectful and well-mannered.
He grins, clearly not understanding the magnitude of this. ‘You wanna come?’
‘Are you seriously inviting me on some weird sex threesome thing with some sort of dominatrix?’ I stare at him. I never thought he’d be the type for anything kinky. ‘No! That would be very odd, and third wheel-ish, and quite frankly, extremely disturbing!’
‘Okay, your loss.’ He strides off through the maze, leaving me staring after him with my mouth still hanging open.
After everything he’s said about his past, I never thought he’d be into casual sex or that he wouldn’t realise how disrespectful this whole conversation is to women.
He’s either been replaced by a pod person in the last ten minutes, or he can’t mean what I think he means.
‘Wait!’ I chase after him as he hurries back across the grounds. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Gotta collect some stuff from the house.’ He turns back to look at me. ‘And make myself look presentable, of course. Wouldn’t want to disappoint my lady friend.’
‘You’re way too young to use the term “lady friend”.’
His laugh echoes back to me as he goes inside, and I stop in the courtyard, torn between going after him and going home to cry into a tub of ice cream. He’s not mine, I know that, but I didn’t realise how upset I’d be at the thought of him seeing someo—
He reappears with a rucksack over his shoulders. I’d expected him to change clothes or something after a day of garden work, maybe a quick shower, but he’s still wearing the same Moomins T-shirt and jeans he was wearing earlier, and he hasn’t even run a comb through his hair to get the bits of hedge out of it.
When he reaches my side, he holds his hand out. ‘Go on. It’ll be satisfying, I promise.’
I roll my eyes. I know they say men are led by their nether regions, but this is like he’s turned into a different person. Even though I have serious doubts and I’m walking right back out if we end up in some BDSM dungeon where there’s a woman with a whip, I slip my hand into his and follow him through the grounds.
‘Carey, I think you should know this is very, very weird. To turn up on a date holding another woman’s hand …’
‘She won’t mind, I promise.’ He shoots that grin back to me again.
‘Oh, good for her,’ I mutter, sounding as childish as I feel. I like Carey so much, and I thought he liked me too but we’re both holding back, but apparently he’s not holding back on weird threesomes.
I expect him to head to the gate, but he leads me deeper into the grounds of Elderflower Grove, and a million scenarios flash through my head. Maybe a secret entrance, or maybe he’s invited someone here, or …
Somewhere between the maze and the lake, further towards the back of the grounds than we usually go, he stops at a well-worn spot in the grass. There are trees just beyond, and a view towards Little Kettling, the lights from village houses shining in the darkening distance.
This just gets weirder. He shrugs the rucksack off and sits down. When I don’t follow, he grins up at me with a finger on his lips, telling me to stay quiet, and pats the space beside him, and I sit down next to a patch of yellow pimpernel, its star-shaped flowers closed up at nightfall.
And no matter how weird this is, I love the way he shifts minutely closer until our legs are touching and my arm is pressed against his. He unzips the bag, but doesn’t utter a word, and I’m unsure of what he’s waiting for.
We sit there in silence for long, long minutes, and I’m warring with myself not to ask what’s going on, and just as it’s about to burst out of my mouth, there’s movement through the trees and a flash of orange weaves between the trunks.
Carey nudges my thigh with his elbow. ‘Told you I had a date with a real vixen.’
A fox appears hesitantly at the treeline.
It’s a fox! A real vixen! Of course it is! I knew I knew Carey better than that! He isn’t into kinky dominatrix threesomes! He’s rustling food out of the rucksack for an actual real-life fox! I’ve burst into such hysterical laughter that the fox has shot out of sight, and Carey wraps his arm around me, tugging me into his shoulder.
God, I’m such an idiot. And now I’m crying with relief that he’s not going on any dates. Actual tears. That’s not embarrassing at all.
I’m still laughing too and his arm is tight around me, and it’s quite possibly the most humiliating sound that one human has ever made in front of another human. The fox is probably scarred for life too.
His lips press against my forehead and I turn my face away, over his shoulder, my damp chin pressing against his T-shirt, and I close my eyes and will myself to get under control. When I can face opening my eyes, my neck is stiff from the awkward angle and I creak as I face the right way again, my face burning red with embarrassment because there’s no hiding why, is there? No one should be that relieved that a man they’ve known for a few weeks isn’t going on a date.
I smack his arm. ‘You knew what I was thinking!’
‘Maybe I liked the thought of you having that many objections to me going on a date. Not that I could … I mean, I’d probably cry too if you went on a date. And I shouldn’t have admitted that out loud. The crying or the …’
I’m glad he doesn’t finish the sentence. I’ve embarrassed myself more than enough for both of us tonight.
The fox is sitting at the treeline again, flicking her tail and watching us warily, and Carey gives me a final squeeze and lifts his arm away. He pulls the rucksack nearer and goes through it. ‘We’ve got cooked chicken, some fruit, and a cheese selection. Come on, lady friend, what do you fancy tonight?’ He makes a noise to attract her attention and leans forward to pat the grass, making a deliberate rustling noise with the food packaging.
‘I have a nightly date with her at eight. You’re never usually here this late or I’d have invited you before. She’s been coming for months. Since she was pregnant earlier in the spring.’
At his words, the female fox starts trotting across to us, and six fox cubs appear behind her. I want to squeal in delight but settle for an intake of breath instead. ‘Oh my gosh, they’re adorable.’
The group of fluffy, white-tip-tailed cubs bounce up to us, playfighting as they wait for Carey to throw them pieces of cheese. The vixen hangs back, keeping watch over her playful cubs.
Carey hands me a slice of apple and I hold it out, barely daring to breathe as one of the cubs comes and takes it without hesitation. Another one takes a piece of chicken from Carey’s hand, and pulls it aside where the others can all attack it too.
‘Come on, lady friend,’ he says gently to the mother fox, and in any other context that would probably sound creepy, but to hear Carey’s gentle English accent addressing a fox … For the first time, I understand what it means when people say their ovaries have exploded.
God, this guy. I’ve never met anyone like him before. Everything feels right in the world when I’m with him, and tonight, I’m shocked by the depth of my feelings. I want to wrap my hands around his arm and never let go, like if I can hold on tight enough, I can somehow keep him.
The mother fox saunters across the grass, sidestepping her squabbling offspring elegantly, hesitating when she’s near us, sniffing the air, and Carey holds a hand out and nudges me to do the same, and her pointed muzzle sniffs us, not close enough to touch, but whatever she smells must satisfy her that we’re not a threat, because she sits down and Carey throws her some chicken.
She picks it up and takes it a safe distance away, and four of the cubs run at her and try to take it for themselves, but she growls and sends them racing back to their own food.
Even though I should be watching them, I can’t tear my eyes from the mellow look on Carey’s face. He pulls his knees up and rests his arms around them, and his wrist twists around in my direction and he holds his hand out.
I reach over and slide my fingers between his, something melting inside me when his clutch mine tightly, and he lifts our joined hands to his mouth and his lips press a kiss to my middle knuckle.
He looks clean-shaven from a distance, but close-up, the barest hint of his five-o’clock shadow grazes my skin as he holds my hand against his lips for so long that I’m out of breath by the time I remember to breathe again. I can feel his face heating up until he eventually moves our joined hands back to resting against his knee, and then lifts his elbow, inviting me to slip my other hand through his arm. My hand wraps around his forearm and gives it a squeeze, and he lets out a long, shaky breath, and I’m buoyed by the thought that I’m not the only one this closeness is having an effect on. His muscular shoulder is right next to mine and before I lose my nerve, I lean over and rest my chin on it.
His head instantly drops to lean against mine, and inside, I do a little happy dance.
I lose track of time as we sit there. His thumb making mindless patterns on the back of my hand, and my fingers rubbing over his forearm as we watch the foxes. The cubs are unconcerned by our presence, and once the food is gone, they carry on playfighting, yipping as they chase each other, and their mum watches on, fed up with their antics, probably needing a glass of wine and a hot bubble bath like most parents by this time of day. It’s genuinely like she’s come to visit a friend. One of the cubs comes up like it wants a fuss, and it lets Carey stroke it once before dashing off again.
‘Thank you for sharing this with me,’ I murmur against his shoulder, the words barely coming out.
He turns so he can speak against my hair. ‘You were missing one of the best things about Elderflower Grove.’
He is the best thing about Elderflower Grove. Although the foxes are a nice touch. I hear them calling on summer nights but I’ve never seen one up close before.
‘Kayl, I got you something.’ His voice is rough and low after ten minutes of silence, and the vixen looks up sharply. ‘And I don’t want it to come across as presumptuous or pushy, and I’ve been waiting for the right time to give it to you, and there’s never going to be a right time, so …’
He lifts his head and reaches over to unzip a pocket of the rucksack, and I sit up straighter as he hides something in his palm and hesitantly hands it to me.
It’s a silicone mould in the shape of a bee. A mould for making candles in.
‘We have all that wax here,’ he says in a rush. ‘The bees have worked so hard on that. It doesn’t seem right to throw it away. You don’t have space at home, but we have oodles of space here. You did something amazing and someone else took that away from you, to the point where you can no longer see how amazing it was, and it shouldn’t have ended like it did. You deserve to rewrite that ending. People would love genuine Elderflower Grove beeswax candles. I thought you might be able to sell some when we open, and Gracie stocks local crafts, I’m sure she’d be delighted to display some, and … If you want to, that is …’
I squeeze his arm with mine as I turn the little blue mould over and over in my fingers. It’s such a thoughtful gesture, probably the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me, and he’s right about the beeswax. There’s a huge bucketful in the Honey House, still with drips of honey on it, and I noticed that Carey had put it outside so the bees would clean it, but I’d thought he was just tidying up. I didn’t think he’d do anything like this.
‘Do you hate me?’ His teeth gnaw his lower lip.
I shake my head and go to speak, but I hadn’t realised how perilously close to tears I am and all that comes out is a choked-off sob.
It’s the fact he’s so encouraging. My ex hated candles. The business was started because he was determined I couldn’t have so many candles for no purpose. Something that made me happy wasn’t a good enough reason. For Carey to support me because it’s something I like makes my eyes well up again. For him to have even given it another thought, let alone done something like this …
‘God, Care.’ I swallow hard. ‘You’re amazing, do you know that? Thank you. Thank you for caring that much.’
He lets out a relieved sigh and a wide smile crosses his face. I’ve disentangled our hands to take the mould, and I’m still turning it over in my fingers.
It’s an adorable little bee shape, a few inches wide, and for the first time in over a year, my mind is flooded with ideas of what I could do with it. Bee-shaped candles in all colours. Yellow-and-black-striped ones. Glitter. I could get an elderflower scent and sell Elderflower Grove candles that actually smell of elderflower. I bet they do traditional hive-shaped moulds too. I can suddenly imagine standing behind a table full of bee-themed candles on the driveway, packaged in little organza bags, the same labels as the honey jars, and a thrill of excitement shivers through me.
‘I’d frighten the foxes if I hugged you as hard as I want to right now. And probably damage some internal organs.’ I slip the mould into my pocket and wrap both my hands around his, squeezing as tightly as I dare. ‘Thank you. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.’
He beams and the joy in his eyes makes the fizzle in me grow even stronger. ‘You don’t have to use it. I didn’t mean to overstep. I saw it and thought of you and then I couldn’t get it out of my head.’
‘You’re going to help, right?’
‘No, I’m not.’ He looks down and meets my eyes. ‘I mean, give me a shout if you need help shifting heavy crates of candles, but I think this is something you need to do on your own.’
If I thought I melted before, I must completely liquefy now. The fact he understands that makes tears spring to my eyes again, and before I have a chance to second guess it, I’ve slid my hand up the side of his neck and pulled his head down until I can press a kiss to his cheek. Well, it was intended to be his cheek, but it ends up being the side of his face, just under his eye.
I stay there for too long, my lips pressed against his skin, the thumb of my other hand rubbing across his ear, and when I pull back, his eyes have closed and he makes a tiny noise of disappointment that makes everything inside me burst into a fluttery mass of fluttering flutteriness.
My cheeks flare red because I shouldn’t have kissed him, but I can’t tear my eyes away as he blinks himself back to reality and meets my eyes again, his smile looking daft and faraway, and making me feel as tipsy as if I’d downed a couple of glasses of wine in quick succession, and I nestle my head back on his shoulder and he offers me his arm to hold again.
His lips press against my forehead before he settles his head back on mine too, and I give his arm a squeeze. If we never move from this spot ever again, it will be too soon.
I don’t know how much time passes before the vixen gets up, looks at Carey with a final flick of her tail, and yips for her cubs to follow her.
‘See you tomorrow, lady friend.’ He lifts his head and gives her a wink, and she and the cubs disappear into the trees.
I know we should probably move, but my hand tightens on his arm. ‘We don’t have to go yet, do we?’
‘Got all the time in the world.’ His chin rubs against my hair.
Although I like the sentiment, I hate hearing him say that because time is running out. It’s easy to forget when we’re cocooned in this little world, sequestered away from everything outside these grounds, but the summer is marching onwards and the months are running out. If Carey is Josie’s grandson, we’ve found nothing to prove it yet. We’ve turned the house upside down room by room, and there is nothing to suggest she ever had a child. No baby toys, no keepsakes, no abandoned cot in the corner of an empty room, and no paperwork.
‘I need to tell you something.’ His voice makes me jolt in the silence. The sky is dark now, and the only lights are the glittering sea of windows in Little Kettling. ‘You know when we met and you thought I was homeless?’ He waits for me to nod. ‘I am.’
I lift my head from his shoulder to look at him, but his eyes are on the ground. ‘I let my ex have the house. I know it was stupid, but when that happened, I was smacked with a wave of depression like nothing I’d ever felt before. I went completely numb. I didn’t want to split things, divide things, have a fair half of everything. I didn’t want any reminders of what I’d thought was a happy life. I took the stuff I’d come with and my car and she took my name off the mortgage. With hindsight, I should’ve done things differently, should have thought more about the future, but I was barely functioning. I couldn’t see a future. I didn’t think I was going to get through it.’
My hand has tightened so much on his that it’s actually quite painful and my chin presses harder against his shoulder.
‘I went to live with my father, and earlier this year, I had to sell his house to pay the debt for his care costs before he died. So you were right. I am homeless. I’m not staying here because it’s easier than commuting. I’m staying here because I have nowhere else to go. If I don’t find something that saves this place by November, I’m living in my car. The family who bought my dad’s house have been kind enough to let me leave it there. Couldn’t park it here, it would arouse suspicion.’
I nod, knowing he’ll feel it. ‘What about your job?’
‘I won’t get it back now. Opening this place is the end of the line for me. And the villagers know about the theme park. My boss will know where the information came from, no matter what.’
‘Then we’ll stop. We don’t have to—’
‘Yes, we do. Because I’m not so morally corrupt that my job is worth more than a place as beautiful as Elderflower Grove.’
‘You know, when we met, I also thought you were a drugs baron, money launderer, possibly a murderer, or actually dead, so this really is the better of the options.’
He lets out a burst of laughter, sounding surprised by it, and I disentangle one arm, slide it around his back and brush through his hair until I can pull his head down and kiss his cheek again because I’m so touched by his honesty that it makes affection bubble up inside me until it spills over.
I feel his face shift into a smile, and his shoulders sag in relief. I pull back quicker this time, but I let my arm stay around him, stroking his hair back, and his head tilts into my hand and his eyes drift shut.
‘It’s never going to come to that,’ I whisper. ‘If it gets to winter and we haven’t found a way to prove your relationship to Josie, you’re staying on my sofa.’
His eyes shoot open and he makes a noise of disbelief. ‘Your mum will love that.’
‘I don’t care. You’re not sleeping in your car. My mum won’t mind – she’ll love you. She wouldn’t see any friend of mine without a roof over their head.’ I don’t mention that as a single man in his thirties, to be honest, he could be a money-laundering murderer and my mum would still have started planning our wedding before I’ve finished the introductions.
‘Kayleigh …’ His voice sounds thick and emotional and like he can’t finish the sentence.
I squeeze his hand again instead. ‘Are you okay now?’
‘Yeah. Better than I ever thought I would be, somehow. This place …’ He tilts his head back and looks at the multitude of stars twinkling above us. ‘I believe in the universe moving to put people in the right place at the right time and we were meant to be here this summer, together.’
I lay my head on his shoulder again, loving the peaceful ease between us, the way he seems to want to touch me as much as I want to touch him. I feel giddy and like a teenager with a crush when the world is filled with endless possibilities, and I never want to be anywhere else.
The night air is warm and there’s no breeze, and the world is silent enough that we can hear the trickle of the river in the distance. ‘When I look out on such a night as this, I feel as if there could be neither wickedness nor sorrow in the world.’
‘I know you’re quoting something but I don’t know what it is.’
‘Fanny Price from Mansfield Park.’
‘It’s a nice thought. If only it was true.’ He sighs and his head drops forward. ‘How do you always look on the good side? You always see the best in people, even after what happened with your ex.’
‘Because he was just one person. There are others out there – good ones.’ I knock my arm against his so hard that I nearly push him over, trying to get my point across. ‘I don’t want that to be the last relationship I ever have. I don’t want the rest of my life to be tainted by it. I don’t want my own bitterness to erode my chance of future happiness. He’s already had eight years of my life. I don’t want him to have the rest of it too. I’ll always struggle to trust people, and believe me, I’ll never go into business with anyone ever again, but it has to be worth trying again one day. Not now, not yet, but I don’t want to be alone forever.’
‘I always thought I did. Thought I was dead inside. Would never meet anyone again. But everything feels different here …’
‘There’s magic in the air at Elderflower Grove,’ I finish for him.
‘I feel like time stops here. We’re in our own little world. Nothing that happened before matters here and nothing that will happen afterwards matters. It makes you appreciate the here and now. I’ve been looking on the dark side for too long, only thinking about what I’ve lost, not what I’ve got …’
‘That’s Elderflower Gr—’
‘It’s not Elderflower Grove, it’s you, Kayleigh. I can’t remember what life was like before I met you. I can be myself without fear of being judged. You like my childish T-shirts and daft puns—’
‘I like you.’ I’d never usually be so straightforward, but he needs to hear it.
He makes a choked-off noise, and then his hand is at the side of my neck, his fingers playing with the long hair that’s escaped my ponytail, his thumb brushing my jaw, his grip strong enough to lift my head at the moment his lowers, and it’s probably a good thing that his lips are on mine before I’ve had a chance to process what’s happening, because I would have done an excited scream and it most definitely would not have remained internal.
It’s the soft, gentlest, most tender kiss I’ve ever experienced. Nothing more than a touch of lips on lips. It lasts for mere seconds, my whole world centred on the burning fire where our lips meet and the heat of his thumb brushing gently against my jaw, and a wave of emotion rises through me. It’s the opposite of the frenzied first kiss anyone would expect, but it feels so much more special.
It’s Carey giving a part of himself he never expected to give again, and even though every part of me is screaming to wrap my hands in his hair, straddle him, and wrestle him to the ground, the only thing I do is let my fingers curl into his arm so hard that there will be ten crescent-shaped marks in his skin when I let go.
He pulls back reluctantly, his hand not leaving my jaw, shivers running through him and making me shiver too, although it’s nothing to do with the temperature of the warm July night.
His forehead rests against mine and his breathing has gone shuddery. ‘If time stops here, I wanted to do that before it starts again.’
I unfurl one of my hands and let it trail up to tuck his hair back and drift down his neck, and he shivers and leans heavier against me.
Everything feels different with Carey. We’re both damaged. We’re both healing. Maybe Elderflower Grove is too, and it makes everything that happens here feel different somehow.
I don’t want this night to end, and I never, ever want this summer to end. And that’s the problem with good things – they always do.