Festival in Prior's Ford

by Evelyn Hood

Overview

When Tricia and Derek Borland bring home their baby daughter, their elderly neighbours are more than willing to help the new mother. But their enthusiasm begins to wane when it becomes apparent that Tricia is more interested in going out with her friends than looking after her new baby - and is only too ready to take advantage of their kindness.

Meanwhile, Lewis Ralston-Kerr and his fiancé Ginny are horrified by Ginny's flamboyant mother's determination to sweep aside their desire for a small village wedding and organise a large society affair.

What's more, the Prior's Ford Progress Committee have decided that the traditional village summer festival needs pepping up this year ...

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781847515001
Publisher:	Severn House
Publication date:	10/01/2014
Series:	A Prior's Ford Novel , #7
Pages:	224
Product dimensions:	8.40(w) x 5.40(h) x 0.70(d)

About the Author

Evelyn Hood has been a full-time writer for many years and is best-known for her family sagas. She lives in Scotland.

Read an Excerpt

Festival In Prior's Ford

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By Evelyn Hood

Severn House Publishers Ltd.

Copyright © 2013 Evelyn Hood
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-84751-500-1

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CHAPTER 1

After more than a hundred years it had happened. The Prior's Ford almshouses, originally built for elderly, destitute villagers living on charity, had its very own baby.

To be exact, the infant belonged to Tricia Borland, daughter of the local garage owner, and her husband Derek, who worked in his father's butcher's shop in the village's main street, but as far as the other inhabitants of the old building, now modernized into six neat terraced houses and renamed Jasmine Row, were concerned, the baby, as the first infant ever to live in the row, was now its most important resident.

On the day Tricia and the new arrival were due to come home from the hospital every woman living in the row kept glancing from her living room window, and the moment Derek's little car drew up before the end house doors flew open and Cissie Kavanagh, Dolly Cowan, Hannah Gibbs and Muriel Jacobsen appeared just as the new father, his round, honest face wearing a watermelon grin, opened a rear passenger door and helped his wife from the car, handling her as though she were made of porcelain.

'Ooohh, it's good to be home,' Tricia said as the welcoming committee swooped down on her.

'So – where's the baby? We're dying to see her!' Dolly's blonde curls were bouncing with excitement.

'In her carrycot.' Derek went to the front passenger door.

'Glad it's all over, Tricia?' Cissie Kavanagh asked.

'You can say that again! I can't wait to get back into a pretty frock with a nice wide belt!' Although Tricia was quite a sturdy girl she loved to wear tight belts to emphasize her curves.

'Here we are.' Derek lifted the carrycot from the car and the women clustered around, cooing over the tiny sleeping face on the pillow.

'She's lovely!' Dolly drew the blanket back carefully to expose a minute curled fist by the baby's head. 'What are you going to call her?'

'We haven't decided yet. We never realized,' Tricia told her audience, 'what a responsibility it is, having to find a name that she's going to be stuck with all her life.'

'You've got a couple of weeks yet before you need to make a decision,' Cissie pointed out.

'I could just snatch her up and take her off home with me.' Dolly said yearningly.

'You can if you want to,' the new mother said at once. 'I'm dying for a sit-down and a decent cup of tea – that maternity hospital doesn't know how to make a proper cup of tea. We stopped off at my mum and dad's on the way back and Derek's folks were there too, so they all had a cuddle before she got fed and changed. She'll sleep for a while and I wouldn't mind a bit of peace and quiet.'

'Are you sure?' Hannah asked doubtfully.

'Yes, are you, love?' the new father wanted to know.

'Goodness, Derek, now she's arrived we're going to have her around until she's grown up. Right now I'd love a cup of tea and a nice quiet ten minutes to myself,' the new mother retorted. 'Surely that's not asking too much after what I've been through?'

'I tell you what –' Cissie took the carrycot from Derek – 'why don't we all take her into my house so that Tricia can have time to settle back home?'

'You'll let us know if she wakes?' Derek asked anxiously.

'Of course they will.' Tricia headed for her own front door. 'Come on, Derek, I'm parched!'

'I've never had children,' Hannah murmured to Muriel Jacobsen as the others followed Cissie, 'but I can't help feeling that if I had, I'd not be so keen to hand my newborn over to neighbours so quickly.'

'To be fair to Tricia, she's only been a mother for a week and she knows that the little one's safe with us. She'll settle down once she gets into the feeding and changing routine,' Muriel assured her neighbour. But as they followed the others into the Kavanagh's house she couldn't help recalling that Tricia was a bit of a social butterfly, and wondering how long it would take for the girl to realize just how demanding motherhood could be.

'These are being returned and these are coming out – and can I stamp that book out again?' Clarissa Ramsay wanted to know as she deposited an armful of books on the counter of the mobile library. 'It's taking a bit of reading but I think I could finish it if I had one more week.'

Stella Hesslett pushed her glasses further up her nose with one finger and consulted her computer. 'That's all right, Mrs Ramsay, nobody else is looking for it at the moment. I read it when it first came out and I enjoyed it very much.'

'I'm enjoying it too. It's the type of book that keeps you wanting to know what happens next, while at the same time you want to take it slowly and savour every scene.'

'Exactly.' Stella tapped busily at the computer keys before putting the pile of returned books below the counter and pushing the other pile towards Clarissa, who began to transfer them to her basket. 'Have you heard from Amy recently?'

'As it happens, she phoned yesterday – she sends her regards to you, and says that she hopes to visit us some time this year.'

Stella beamed. 'That would be lovely, something to look forward to.'

'You've gone very quiet.' Lewis Ralston-Kerr shot a swift sideways glance at his fiancée as his ancient van rattled noisily along the country road. 'I thought you were looking forward to showing off this terrific new project you've taken on for Fergus.'

'I've been looking forward to it for ages,' Ginny Whitelaw agreed, then added wistfully, 'and I still would be if it wasn't for my mother.'

'If I'd known what the postman was bringing you this morning I'd have robbed him on his way up the drive – or insisted on us leaving before he arrived.'

'I wish we had.' Ginny's voice was gloomy. 'I've been looking forward to this for weeks.'

'Me too – just the two of us, alone together for a whole day!'

Ginny nodded. 'And I've been longing to show you Fergus's lovely new house – and to get your input on the ideas I have for the garden. I wish we had left before the postman arrived – and I wish I'd been born an orphan!'

'I'm not sure that that's possible, my love. Even an orphan has to have a mother and father at some stage.'

'I wouldn't mind having an ordinary mother, the kind that other people have. An easy-going mum who'd let me have the quiet wedding I want. Why did I get lumbered with a publicity-mad actress instead?'

Lewis took a hand from the steering wheel in order to give her a soothing pat on the knee. The two of them had been looking forward happily to their outing – until the postman delivered a parcel from Meredith Whitelaw, at present filming a popular television series in Spain. The parcel turned out to contain a bundle of bridal catalogues, together with a letter giving Ginny the name and telephone number of an upmarket wedding planner.

'A very successful woman, darling,' Meredith's swirling handwriting had said – 'she's worked with some very well-known brides, including royalty. You have to phone her right away because she's in great demand.'

'Ginny, stop worrying. I give you my word that when we get around to planning our wedding we're going to do it our way, not your mother's.'

'You make it sound so easy, and it never is with her. Imagine me of all people having a wedding planner,' Ginny groaned.

'That was definitely a step too far. When we get back to Linn Hall we're going to return the catalogues, tell this wedding planner that her services aren't needed, and I'm going to phone Meredith and tell her that we'll have the wedding we both want when it suits us, not her.'

'Perhaps we should get married while she's still filming in Spain,' Ginny suggested, brightening slightly. 'She won't be free to come back to the UK until the end of June. We could get married before then, couldn't we?'

'If I'd my way we'd be married today, but sadly, it's just not possible because we've both got fairly hefty commitments to deal with this year. I want to try for a loan that'll enable us to start renovating Linn Hall's ground floor rooms – it would be great to be able to hold the wedding reception there. And we've already decided that the estate's going to be opened to the public from May this year instead of waiting until June. Duncan and I will have to take full responsibility for the preparations because this new job you've taken on will keep you busy from now until next year.'

Ginny peered through the windscreen. 'I think we take the next turning on the left. You're absolutely right about not having time to get married soon, but knowing my mother, she'll not give up on the idea of a big social wedding when we finally get around to it. I've been a disappointment to her all my life and I know she'll expect me to make up for it now. I can see the headlines she's thinking up – "Actress Meredith Whitelaw attends her only daughter's wedding." She's probably offering the exclusive rights to OK Magazine as we speak.'

'You're not serious!'

'Unfortunately, I am.'

'What about your father? Couldn't he get her to stop interfering?'

Ginny gave a short, mirthless laugh. 'No chance! My father fled to Australia when I was small because he couldn't take any more of my mother's bossiness. To be truthful, he didn't exactly flee there because of her; he was offered a part in an Australian film and decided not to come back. He couldn't stand up to her then and I doubt if he can now.'

'Should we invite him to the wedding?'

'We can send an invitation, but he's well settled with his new family and since he's not set foot in the UK since I was six, I doubt if he'll accept.'

'Third turning on the left coming up.' Lewis turned the van into the side road. 'Are you sure this is the right way? It's more of a lane than a road.'

'It's a private road with a dead end, and the house Fergus bought is the only one on it.'

'There's Rowena Chloe to think of, too. I want to see her living in Linn Hall with us by August, in time for the new school year,' Lewis said, then added, 'I wish I hadn't just listed all the things that have to be done within the next seven months because it doesn't really seem possible, does it?'

'Of course it's possible – it has to be! Just think of how much has been done to the Linn Hall grounds in the last few years. If we can achieve that we can achieve anything!'

'Just keep on telling me that.'

'I intend to. Look, there's the house!' Ginny felt a thrill of excitement at the sight of the roof and chimney stacks rising above an unkempt hedge. 'It faces the Solway Firth and the only entrance is at the back. There it is – that break in the hedge. Slow down or you'll miss it.'

'It doesn't look all that special,' Lewis commented as he eased the van into a cobbled courtyard.

'That's what I love about it. This is the back of the house – the front overlooks the garden and the firth, and it's got quite a lot of potential inside. But the garden's very special – it takes up the whole length of the access road, though you don't realize that because of the high hedge. That's going to be lowered once the garden's been restored.' Ginny opened the passenger door. 'Come on – I'm longing to show it to you!'

She scrambled out and had disappeared round the side of the empty house before Lewis left the van.

'Good grief,' he said when he caught up with her. 'Now I can see what you're so excited about!'

The two-storey house was stone-built, with double glass-panelled interior doors opening into a generous porch which opened in turn on to a paved patio. From there, the garden sloped down towards the shore of the Solway Firth, permitting a magnificent clear view of the firth to anyone looking out of the house windows or sitting on the patio. Three wide steps led down to a half-moon-shaped, overgrown lawn edged with shrubbery badly in need of pruning.

'As I said, the garden stretches from one end of the private road to the other.' Ginny spread her arms wide. 'And the house sits approximately in the middle. Isn't that a breathtaking view?'

Lewis nodded. Even on this chilly February day the Solway Firth, spread before them, looked quite breathtaking.

'Imagine waking every morning to a view like that! I want the garden to be filled with colour throughout the four seasons, so that it always looks good to anyone sailing by.' Ginny dug into the rucksack she had brought from the van and pulled out a smaller bag. 'Tape recorder, camera, measuring tape, notebook and coloured pencils,' she told Lewis, dropping the rucksack on to the patio and starting down the steps and across the shaggy lawn. 'Apparently the previous owners preferred lots of greenery. I can envisage this garden divided into small sections, each leading into other areas. That way, anyone exploring it will be moving from one area to another – hopefully, a garden of hidden delights!'

As they were leaving the lawn, Lewis reached an arm to sweep some low branches out of their way and the two of them were showered with icy droplets from the previous night's rain. 'You've got a heck of a lot of pruning to do,' he observed.

Ginny pulled the hood of her anorak over her short dark hair. 'I know,' she said happily, 'what a magnificent challenge!'

An hour later, during which they took a lot of photographs and Ginny made a lot of notes, they returned to the house. Ginny had a key, and when they had explored the place they settled in the living room, with its view of the firth, to enjoy the sandwiches and coffee they had brought with them.

'There's going to be a massive amount of work ahead of you, Ginny.'

'I know, but as the designer I don't have to do it on my own. Fergus is putting together a team of experienced gardeners to work with me once I've planned the layout and decided exactly what will be happening during each of the four seasons. When he's approved of my ideas, they'll start work.'

'Lucky Fergus, with no money worries to get in his way,' Lewis said, and then wished he had had the sense to guard his tongue. He was pleased for Ginny, and proud that his fiancée had been asked to take on such a prestigious task, but he would have been happier if the television director she was going to work with was middle-aged, less attractive than Fergus, and happily married.

'I've only got a month at the most to plan the entire layout,' Ginny prattled on, 'I'm hoping that you'll help me because the work must start by March at the latest.'

'Of course I will, any way I can.'

'I'm really looking forward to being involved in some good hard work.'

'That goes without saying – remember when you were restoring the lake with only young Jimmy McDonald to help you? You spent most of your time covered with mud from head to toe.'

'I loved that job!'

'I know you did. You could never be the sort of television presenter that poses prettily with a spade and then steps aside to let someone else do the digging.'

'Oh, Lewis—' Ginny laid down her half-eaten sandwich and stared at him, her happiness suddenly disappearing.

'What's the matter?'

'Me, working in front of television cameras!' Her blue eyes, sparkling a moment before, were suddenly wide with fear. 'What if I make a mess of it?'

'You won't make a mess of it. We've already been through this, darling. You said yourself that when Fergus filmed you showing him round the Linn Hall estate you forgot all about the camera. The same thing will happen again – once you get into that garden with a spade or a trowel or a pair of secateurs in your hand you'll focus totally on work. You always do.'

'But what if—'

'No what ifs.' Lewis screwed the lid back on to the empty Thermos flask. 'Let's have one more look at the garden to make sure we haven't missed anything, then on the way back to Linn Hall we'll stop off at a decent restaurant. I'm still hungry!'

'We're not far from Prior's Ford,' Ginny said later when the waitress had taken their orders. 'We could easily have waited until we got back to Linn Hall.'

'I know, but I don't often get you to myself at home.' Lewis reached across the table to take her hand. 'It's been good today, just being us with nobody else around.'

'I've been thinking that too.' She curled her fingers around his, smiling at him.

'That house is going to look great when it's smartened up and properly furnished. Is Fergus planning to move in once the filming's over?'

'I don't know – he may have bought it just so that he could film the garden restoration.'

'If so he'll make a good profit when he sells. I really like it – it would make a perfect home for us, and Rowena Chloe would love the kind of garden you're planning.'

'We can never live here – you're forgetting that one day you'll inherit Linn Hall.'

'I know, but seeing that little place, just the right size for a family ...' he said almost wistfully.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Festival In Prior's Ford by Evelyn Hood. Copyright © 2013 Evelyn Hood. Excerpted by permission of Severn House Publishers Ltd..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Editorial Reviews

Hood’s delightful village tale is like a beam of springtime sunshine.

Booklist

Hood’s delightful village tale is like a beam of springtime sunshine.

Booklist