Love In The Sticks (Novel Excerpt)

Preview the first chapter of Kiera's debut novel Love In The Sticks.

In an idyllic English village, three women navigate love, betrayal and an unspoken past – finding that sometimes, the only thing you can do is break free.

Chapter 1

Tezie

I open the car window to film the patchwork hills on my phone so I don’t capture my reflection in the glare off the glass. We’re flying along an A road towards Ockbery, a village nearly two hundred miles from what I’ve always known in the city. Thanks to Mum being made redundant from her admin job back in London, I’ll be calling this village home for the foreseeable future. Mum’s hands are wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, lips pursed, eyes fixed on the road ahead. It’s been a long journey, nearly four hours of travelling.

As we start to descend, the panoramic views of patchwork farmland are replaced by dense forest on either side of us. The tall trees block out the sun as they form a tunnel above us and I notice some walkers with colourful backpacks trekking amidst the trunks. Then the countryside opens out again and a few brick and white cottages start to line the road, all with perfectly coiffed shrubbery out front and puffing chimneys to match. As we pass the sign ‘Welcome to Ockbery’, the village seems empty and almost abandoned compared to the buzz of the city that I’m used to. The houses look like they’ve been here for hundreds of years, and their thatched roofs feel like something out of a fairytale. The road narrows and my eyes are quickly drawn up to an enormous yellow farm vehicle as it just manages to squeeze itself round the corner ahead. I can’t help but wince as it barrels past our tiny car.

Mum curses the driver. “Jesus! I don’t miss the countryside.”

We stop at the junction that leads us into the main centre of the village – although it’s more like a small cluster of buildings than a bustling square. I notice a couple perched on a bench in a tiny village green raised high up above the road, a gnarled oak tree standing proudly above like a lookout. An ancient timbered building sits behind, next to a row of shops with a few people dipping in and out, and the spire of a church looms in the background. The lights turn green and the engine strains as we head up a steep single track road to the right of the village centre.

“Blimey, that pub brings back memories,” Mum says, as we head past the old building. There’s a sign out front of a painted peacock, then I notice some real ones strutting between the drinkers on the outdoor benches in the garden. “I used to get up to all sorts when I was your age,” she goes on. “But I never drank alcohol until I was over eighteen, mind you, so you’ve still got another few months to go,” she quickly adds.

I roll my eyes. I’m not interested in any of that anyway. All my classmates celebrated finishing our A-level exams with a big party at Fliss’s house last week, but I managed to slip away at 9pm to go home and read. My classmates are all pretty much eighteen now, and while they were all going out clubbing and getting smashed for the first time, I’ve been studying. I was pushed up a year back in primary school – even though I’m not eighteen until September – so grades have always felt more important than anything else.

I quickly check my phone. Still no service. I’m sure Henry would’ve messaged back by now, right? I wonder if Nana’s house has WiFi?

I’ve only met my grandmother a handful of times and I can’t believe I’ve never been to visit here before. Mum never really explained why we’ve never come, just that she doesn’t like the country because there’s nothing to do. I’m looking forward to getting to know Nana properly now though – we don’t have much family as it is.

“How much longer?” I ask Mum.

“Oh Hortense we’re literally there now,” she replies sharply. Mum always calls me by my full name. She’s the only one.

At the top of the steep road that I notice is called ‘King’s Hill’, we make a sharp right and crunch across the shingle of a grand-looking circular driveway with an ivy-clad wishing well in the middle. The house – Wisteria Cottage – is much bigger than the name suggests and is made of the same beige and white coloured bricks as the cottages we passed on route.

“This is Nana’s house?” My eyes widen at the sight of it as we pull up by the front door that quickly swings open. A petite head of grey hair emerges, which I instantly recognise as Nana – even just from the few occasions we’ve met.

I notice Mum’s ignoring my awe at her childhood home as she clambers out of the car without giving the house a second glance. I can’t help but check my phone one more time. A few bars of signal now, but still no text. I open Instagram. No notifications. Snapchat? Nothing. I swallow my disappointment and paste on a broad smile as I walk towards Nana’s outstretched arms.

“Hello darling,” she greets me warmly and brings me in for a tight hug. I feel like I bury her small frame as I bend down to let her kiss my cheek. Her strong perfume tickles my nose. “Oh I’ve missed you, Tezie. I’m so glad you’re here now.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Nana. Thank you so much for having us.”

She tuts and brushes her hand against the air. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Nana’s so warm and inviting and this house looks immaculate. Why have we never been here to visit again?

Mum clears her throat to signal for my assistance as she fusses around the car unloading. She hasn’t even said hello to Nana yet. I reach for one of the suitcases that’s resting on the back seat and haul it out. I notice my prize possession is still attached to the roof and breathe a sigh of relief – I couldn’t possibly leave my bike behind. It’ll be my only means of independence now I won’t have the tube to get me around.

“Patsy! Come and give me a hug,” Nana beams as Mum and I heave the suitcases into the porch.

“Yes hello Mother. Give me a minute,” she says, bustling past us both in a flurry. I grimace apologetically at Nana. At least Mum’s moods aren’t saved just for me, I suppose.

Just as I go outside to get the next bag, a grey fluffy thing jumps out from behind Nana. It catapults between my legs before running round the car yapping and returning back to us, sitting by my feet and wagging its tail furiously. The little dog’s eyes stare up adoringly and I quickly fall to my knees to cuddle him. “This is Pookey,” Nana says. “Sorry, he’s still only young and an absolute ball of energy.” Pookey jumps onto my lap joyously and, though he’s only small, I struggle to balance in this crouched position for too long. I make a fuss of him and screw my eyes shut as he licks my face frantically.

“Come on Pookey, inside,” Nana commands. Pookey ignores her and whizzes between our legs on the hunt for his next adventure.

“Cuppa?” she gestures for me to come inside. Mum whisks past both of us again, groaning at the luggage for getting caught on the door frame. “You can do that later, Pats, come and have a rest for a minute,” Nana calls back.

“No thanks, I’d rather just get it done now,” Mum replies. Nana tuts, taking my arm and leading me into the kitchen.

I sit at a sleek wooden island in the middle of the surprisingly modern-style room. There’s a huge wood-burner on the back wall and the faint smell of woodsmoke lingers in the air. I’m amazed by the expansive rural views across the village and beyond, which I can see out of the glassy conservatory area that spills onto a flagstone terrace. Back home, the only view from our flat was concrete buildings and a couple on the other side of the road who constantly ‘got it on’.

Mum bursts into the kitchen, hair clipped up in a hurry and cheeks burning red. Nana gestures for her to take a seat while she finishes making the tea. Mum puts her head in her hands and rubs her face, taking a deep sigh.

“Mum, are you okay?” I ask, but she ignores me for a beat too long then shakes her head violently.

“I just want to get everything unpacked and sorted. It’s been the most stressful week.”

Nana places a steaming cup in front of each of us. “With milk and one sugar, just how you like it,” she says gently to Mum, placing a hand on her hunched shoulder. “I remember.”

Mum whispers her thanks before closing her eyes and taking a long, grateful sip.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here, Nana. It’s such a beautiful house,” I say.

“I know darling. Me neither,” Nana replies. There’s a stare-off between her and Mum and I turn and look at Mum questioningly, too. Then, Nana folds and quickly begins rustling in the cupboards like she knows she’s said something she shouldn’t. Mum senses me looking and her body stiffens as she takes another swig of tea. For once, she seems to have no response.

I’ve been asking questions about Nana since I was a child, but just received vague answers in response and never really learned anything. But for the past two weeks since I found out we were moving here, I’ve tried to press Mum for more answers whenever it comes up.

Mum looks up from her tea and rolls her eyes at me, sighing. “Hortense I don’t know, okay? We just never got round to it. I don’t like the countryside.”

Silence.

“I need to finish unloading the car,” she says and wafts out of the room.

Nana’s stopped her busywork and is now rubbing her temples. Then she walks over and loops her other arm in mine, hugging me close against her. Realising how grateful I am for the affection, I squeeze even tighter.

“Oh Tezie.” She says faintly over my shoulder. “It’ll all be okay.”