Green Pastures

By Samantha Arran

Twenty-four-year-old London Lucy Locke is unable to sleep and can eat only the minimum, being filled with remorse and guilt that her paternal grandfather, parents, and two younger sisters were killed in a horrific motor way crash on their way to pick her up from the airport.

Having spent Christmas with her maternal grandparents in Portugal as they were unable to travel and the pressure of her work, she had felt she had neglected them, so she used this opportunity.

Lying awake as usual, she remembered a memory from her childhood. In the morning, she pursued this memory, and it was a new beginning for the journey of her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Nov 23, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524666521

Samantha Arran

Samantha is a caring mother for her son and is a committed Christian. They live in a beautiful part of Derbyshire. Samantha thanks the ones who have told her they read every word of her books and re-read with pleasure and interest. This one is different again and full of lovely surprises.

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© 2016 SAMANTHA ARRAN. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/16/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5246-6653-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-6652-1 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

The characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

Autobiography Out of the Shadows** Hazel Helliwell

Other books using pen name Samantha Arran

Trilogy: Love Never Fails*

Unfailing love,

A New Beginning*

Mademoiselle Fleur*

Love is in the air*

Until death us do part*

Meant to meet* Hazel Helliwell

Available online and all good book shops on order.

Green Pastures proceeds going to chosen charities

Despite my being a neglected wife for the first thirteen years of our marriage with Roy having a nervous disposition and a possessive demanding mother, making the best of this gave all my attention and love to our son.

We began to build up our relationship after she died- which took a few years- but we made it in the end and Roy had become a Christian.

This book is to honour Roy because he was a hard dedicated worker and wouldn’t have time off, even walking through deep snow in the winter times.

At the time of writing 2016, I can honestly say from 1991 when he died, I have missed him.

This book is entirely fiction apart from Roy who was a maintenance engineer and lathe operator, and the man who constantly whistled the same tune.

I begin the story in 1956.

Chapter 1

24 year old Lucy Locke after another sleepless night despite the doctor’s sleeping pill thought once more that she was going out of her mind with remorse, ‘if only, if only,’ which haunted her night and day.

At 5 am and not wanting to disturb the staff, sat looking through her bedroom window. In the night she had remembered her Grandpapa telling her as a small child as she loved getting dirty that she must have her Derbyshire ancestor’s miner’s blood in her,. She had forgotten about this. With a determination she thought she would now trace them. The family link had been broken three generations back.

When she knew Mrs Hawkins the housekeeper would be up early as always, she showered, dressed and went down to the kitchen. With dismay Mrs Hawkins saw that Lucy couldn’t have slept again. She sat with Lucy at the scrubbed wooden table sharing the pot of tea she had made.

I’m going to Derbyshire this morning Mrs H, to begin tracing my ancestors who were miners. Mrs Hawkins had been told of this breakdown in the family but had forgotten until Lucy now mentioning.

Mr H will take you, darling.

Thank you, no, I’ll be fine. She only ate half a slice of toast with butter. Mrs Hawkins was anxious but knew she was capable. Lucy set off in her BMW with Mr and Mrs Hawkins waving.

With regret in his voice he said, I should have taken her.

I suggested this, but she’s determined. Perhaps this will be a turning point in her life.

Let’s pray so, dear. Something has to change.

Sighing heavily Mrs Hawkins went back to the kitchen anxious about Miss Lucy driving, but she knew that she had a strong car and would drive carefully as she had in busy London.

Lucy did drive carefully as always and made good time getting to Chesterfield from the directions in the map. She spotted the Crooked Spire. Parking and going into the Registrar’s office she was greeted by a pleasant lady. Good morning, I’m Mrs Howson. May I help you?

Good morning, I’m Lucy Locke. I’m hoping to trace my ancestors three generations back. They lived and the men worked in this area as miners, same name as mine with an e.

Please sit down and wait here, Miss Locke. I’ll see what I can do. She came back a while later and told Lucy, I haven’t much for you, Miss Locke, only their deaths are recorded and they are all buried in St Peters Chapel, Sparrow Hill.

I don’t know this area, I’ve come from London.

It’s not far from here. She gave Lucy directions.

Lucy thanked her and asked, How much do I owe you?

Mrs Howson shook her head. Good luck. Lucy smiled at her.

It began to pour with rain. Lucy hadn’t anticipated this in her eagerness to get here. The weather was so settled in Windsor. She found the old chapel and seeing the neglected graveyard and no-one around she decided to go and buy a mackintosh and umbrella and come back. She began to tremble and felt exhausted. Not being able to eat she knew her strength was at an end so drove towards a village and saw a restaurant, Crossroads. She was able to park her car near the door, so ran in.

A young man waiter came to greet her. A table for one, please. Looking around she was impressed with the décor and the tables with pristine white tablecloths and the table settings.

The waiter led her to one near a wall against a roaring coal and log fire. He was concerned how white she looked and hoped she wouldn’t collapse. A pot of English breakfast tea, please, she ordered.

He brought it with the menu, and then had to attend to other customers. Nearly all the tables were taken. Lucy enjoyed the tea in a flowered bone china cup. The waiter came back, Have you chosen, Miss? He pleasantly enquired.

I’ll have the poached cod, with parsley sauce please.

Vegetables, Miss?

No thank you, just the fish. Another waiter brought it, she was almost asleep.

Lucy ate it with great enjoyment. Her chef had prepared her wonderful food but it had tasted like sawdust.

Looking at the menu she saw lemon meringue pie. Remembering how she had enjoyed it when eating this previously ordered a piece. It was delicious and she ate it all, beginning to feel better. The first waiter came back and was relieved that her colour was back. Anything further, Miss?

Locke. Thank you, the meal was delicious. Please give my compliments to your chef. May I have my bill? She went to the toilet, everywhere was immaculate. Paying her bill, she impulsively asked the young man, Are there any new homes for sale in this vicinity? He had picked up earlier her cultured voice.

He laughed. There is one just down Church Lane opposite here, going up for sale. It’s next to the church. The estate agent, Mr Clayton, in the village has the details. He gave her the directions and she warmly thanked him. He was thinking how beautiful and gracious she was.

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Lucy parked easily and found the estate agents. Hurrying in out of the rain a man looked up enquiringly at her and standing up greeted her. Good afternoon. May I help you?

Good afternoon. I’m enquiring about a newly built house on Church Lane.

He laughed, I haven’t put the poster in the window yet. I’m Mr Clayton. Please sit down, Miss?

Locke. He showed her the brochure. Asking the price Mr Clayton watching her closely saw that she didn’t flinch.

I have no idea how much houses go for in this area.

I can assure you ma’am, this is a very good price. Everything is of the highest quality and well thought out. I know this is what I’m expected to say, but I always speak the truth. My reputation is built on this. She nodded; he could see she was examining everything very carefully.

Sitting down and looking through the brochure Lucy came across ‘adjoining field.’ What’s this, Mr Clayton?

Opening the plan of the footings up he told her, The land this house is built on belonged to the church next to you, what plans they had for it is unknown, possibly a community hall; or extending the graveyard. However, this land came up for sale as the Diocese are short of money, and a builder bought it. With the expertise of the architect, this home was built in line with the others on the lane, but this has the advantage of the field. It’s big enough for a tennis court or possibly a swimming pool, he laughed. Lucy could see the dimensions and had worked the size out. She could bring the two Rottweiller’s with this field. This, of course, has put the price up, Mr Clayton then said.

So, then the adjoining moorland behind the other homes up to the stream is private land?

It belongs to National Trust, ma’am. Nothing can be built on this. The bungalows on the back are privately owned.

Lucy was still carefully examining. So, there are no hidden agendas?

No, ma’am, no, all this will be on the deeds.

I’d be able to bring my two fully grown Rottweillers. I’m impressed Mr Clayton. Everything has been very carefully thought out.

They used a very clever architect, ma’am.

Lucy continued looking at the plans. Double wrought iron gates joining up to a matching wall facing the private road but with wrought iron work attractively interspersed in between the stones and ending with a smaller wrought iron gate for access to the path running up the side of the graveyard with a high hedge Lucy saw was on her border.

A double garage at the next door neighbour’s side with paved area running up to the field with double gates and a single gate leading into the field, and a large paved area ran across the back of the house.

How would I maintain the field and the hedges?

The local council for a small fee could cut the grass and they have a machine for cutting hedges. That’s why the locked wide gates are put there, ma’am or, you could let a farmer bring a few sheep or cows to keep the grass down he smiled.

So the smaller gate would be my access?

Yes it is ma’am easier, unless of course you need to use the wider gates. Have you a property to sell, Miss Locke?

Lucy thought, ‘Yes, but not yet.’ I would be able to pay cash upfront.

I need some security details, Miss Locke.

I would expect nothing less, Mr Clayton. Please may I ring my solicitor in London?

Passing the telephone to her he was relieved as he would have asked her for security with not knowing her, and with her coming not suitably dressed for the weather was hoping she wasn’t just conning him on to pass time in the rainy day.

Dialling the number and saying who she was, Lucy was put directly through to Mr Brailsford her family’s solicitor. Mr Clayton was impressed with this. It’s Lucy Locke, Mr Brailsford, I’m in Derbyshire.

What on earth are you doing there, Lucy? Mr Clayton heard his words.

Right quickly cutting to the chase, you will remember I loved to get dirty as a child, Mr Clayton heard him laugh. I recollected my Grandpapa telling me I must take after my ancestors who were miners in Derbyshire, so I’ve come to trace them. I have a lead to where they are buried nearby. I’m in an estate office, and am interested in a newly built house for sale here. Mr Clayton needs my security. She gave him the receiver.

Good afternoon sir, Mr Clayton began. Miss Locke said she would be paying cash. With not knowing her I need to be secure as others are interested in this property. Of course, with Miss Locke being a cash buyer she would have the first option.

Have you stated a price?

Yes sir, I have. He told him.

I’ll contact my colleague Bradley Dawson in Sheffield for more details on this. With Miss Locke being a cash buyer, will she get a discount? Mr Clayton knew Bradley Dawson well.

I doubt it sir, but I’ll ask the seller.

I’ll be back in touch, but hold the sale for Miss Locke.

Mr Clayton passed the receiver back to Lucy.

Are you coming home, Lucy?

Yes, Mr Brailsford. May I ring you this evening after I’ve told Mrs Hawkins?

You have my permission to ring at any time. By then I’ll have input from Mr Dawson. They said bye.

I’ll hold the sale as your solicitor advised me, Miss Locke. Would you like to view the property, Miss Locke.?

Yes, please, this will be good.

Is there a shop where I can buy something to wear for the rain and an umbrella?

Not around these parts, Miss Locke, but please use my umbrella. The rain is baiting now. She followed his car the short distance looking round and liking everywhere. He turned off opposite Crossroads and they went down the short lane passing five houses with a few bungalows on the opposite side Lucy guessed were private.

He ran and opened the wrought iron gates and when both cars were inside opened the door for her. She didn’t bother putting the umbrella up and also quickly ran across the decorative paved area into a small cloakroom going directly into the kitchen. The sun broke through the clouds and Lucy thought this was a good sign.

We have all the seasons in one day at this time of year, Miss Locke, but we have been promised an unusually hot spell, Mr Clayton laughed.

Looking round the large kitchen which ran round the corner on to the side of the house facing the large paved area and the field she loved it. Mr Clayton showed her the big utility room next to the kitchen. Lucy was thinking her two Rottweillers would be comfortable in their basket beds in this room. A smaller room housed a shower with toilet, urinal and wash basin. Everywhere was of the best quality.

Would you like to view on your own, Miss Locke?

Thank you, yes.

Viewing the study, dining room, lounge; all large rooms with wonderful stone fireplaces and open log and coal burning fires. Each room had big windows. She began to feel a little lighter hearted, it felt right to her. Examining the four bedrooms, two en-suites, and the male bathroom knew the architect was a professional. The walls according to the windows and sills had thick walls and the wood throughout the house was of the highest quality.

From the back she could see over the high hedge the small graveyard and then the small church. From the en-suite over the kitchen and study she decided would be hers as it looked over the field and moorland and knew she would see the sunset and sunrise. Mr Clayton was stood in the sunshine watching the vapour rise from where it had rained. Lucy joined him breathing in the fresh air

I really like it, Mr Clayton. I’m interested in buying it.

We had several enquiries whilst it was being built but we made no promises, Miss Locke. It’s very well built and the foundations are 100% as you will see from the surveys.

Do you know the wood used throughout the house, Mr Clayton?

I do know this, Miss Locke, I love wood so enquired, It is solid oak covered with UV Golden cured lacquer. Lucy wrote this in her diary. Out of my range, he laughed.

Do you want a deposit, Mr Clayton?

Forgive me but if I may have your home address and telephone number? Would you like to come back and have a cup of tea? He could see she was a cultured young lady, but she hadn’t outdoor clothes for the rain.

Thank you, but I’ll get back to London. I need to contact my solicitor again. She gave him her address and telephone number. Quickly writing the details he needed also showed him her driving licence.

If you will be available I’ll come back to-morrow morning. A member of staff at Crossroads where I’ve lunched directed me to you. Knowing from the weather forecast London was in an unusually warm spell for the time of year, he understood why she hadn’t come prepared for the change in weather.

I’ll be available, Miss Locke. Thank you. It’s a safe area and the Chief Constable living two doors up.

She laughed. I think I will be safe with my two fully grown Rottweillers. Your price is as quoted, Mr Clayton?

Yes, ma’am, it won’t now go on to the market, unless by tomorrow morning you’ve changed your mind.

Saying goodbye Lucy thanked him again. He locked up and Lucy drove away for him to close the gates. Driving steadily back she wondered what Mrs Hawkins would make of this and knew for sure hat she wouldn’t approve of her returning to-morrow.

Switching on the radio for the weather forecast for to-morrow