A Cotswolds Tale

When Jake Mowbray's parents 'retired to the country' they bought themselves a traditional Cotswolds cottage and three-and-a-half acres of land. Jake was pleased to see that the cottage had been pretty much totally renovated. That shouldn't present too many problems. But he was a bit concerned at the amount of the land that surrounded the cottage. 'What are you going to do with it all?' he asked his father.

'The previous owners grazed some sheep,' his father said. 'But I thought perhaps a few fruit trees.'

'Fruit trees?'

'Apples. Pears. Perhaps a few other more exotic fruits. Cherries? I don't know. I'll need to do a bit of research. See what might grow well in these parts.'

'You have room for rather a lot of trees,' Jake said.

His father cast an eye over the bare field. 'Maybe we can make a bit of cider.'

'Quite a lot of cider, I would have thought,' Jake said. 'And quite a lot of work. I thought that you were moving here for a quiet life.'

'We are. But I think that apple trees pretty much grow themselves, don't they? That tree we had in London pretty much looked after itself. A bit of a prune from time to time. Keep it from getting

too

big. And it produced very tasty apples.'

'Yeah, but that was just one tree,' Jake pointed out.

Jake looked at the position of the sun, looked at his watch, and then looked around the empty field. 'Well, at least you have the beginnings of a good windbreak,' he said, nodding in the direction of the double line of midland hawthorn trees growing along what seemed to be the property's north-eastern border. 'Have you met your neighbours?'

'Not yet,' Jake's father said. 'I gather they have yet to take up residence. The rumour is that they bought the place sight unseen. Somewhere to retire to. At the moment, they're still somewhere overseas. Sri Lanka perhaps? I think that's what the estate agent said. Somewhere like that.'

'OK. A bit like you and Mum,' Jake said. 'You could have some gin and tonic buddies. Perhaps you should leave a space in among the apple trees for a tennis court.'

* * *

Jake's parents had only been in the new home for six weeks or so when they decided that the kitchen didn't really 'work'. 'We've decided to have it changed around a bit,' Jake's mother said when Jake visited for Sunday lunch. The plans that she showed him certainly made sense.

'The chaps can start work next Friday,' Jake's father said. 'So your mother and I have decided to go across to Canada for a few days. Catch up with Hannah and the kids. Just in case there are any unforeseen issues, we'll give the kitchen chaps your phone number. If that's OK. But I don't expect there will be any issues,' he added hastily. 'Still... better safe than sorry, eh?'

'Umm... yeah,' Jake said. 'I'm going to be up in London for a couple of days that week. But, yeah -- I'm sure that we can work something out.'

'They say that they will have everything done by the end of the following week,' Jake's father said. 'Perhaps if you could just pop in before they actually leave. Just make sure that the electricity and water and things like that are all working? Rather not have to get them back again. You know.'

'Umm... yeah. I can do that,' Jake said. 'When will you two be back from Canada?'

'We'll be away for a couple of weeks. We're booked to return on the overnight flight on the Monday, which should get us into Heathrow late-morning on the Tuesday. And then we'll get the train across to Oxford.'

'Send me the details,' Jake said, 'and I can pick you up from the station and drop you back over here.'

'Oh. Thank you. Yes, that would be... that would be excellent,' Jake's father said. 'Yes. Thank you.'

* * *

Jake didn't hear anything from the kitchen fitters. But, on the day that they were due to finish, Jake drove across to his parent's place just to make sure that everything was under control. It certainly seemed to be. And Jake had to agree that the new kitchen was a vast improvement on the one that his parents had 'inherited'.

'OK?' the guy who seemed to be in charge of the kitchen crew asked.

'Looks pretty good to me,' Jake told him.

'Yes. It does, doesn't it?' the kitchen guy said. 'We're rather proud of it.'

'I can see that you might be.'

It was as Jake left the cottage and walked towards his car, ready to head back over to Oxford, that his attention was drawn to the windbreak on the far side of the open field. It had shrunk. What had been a couple of rows of five or six metre tall midland hawthorn trees was now barely more that a low hedge. It seemed that his father had had someone give the trees a rather severe haircut. Goodness know why. They were hardly going to provide much of a wind break down at that level. Perhaps his father had decided against planting fruit trees after all. Jake also noticed that you could now see the house next door. And it seemed that the new neighbours had taken up residence.

* * *

Jake's parents' return flight from Canada was delayed by bad weather, and their late morning arrival at Heathrow turned into a late afternoon arrival. By the time they had caught The Heathrow Express into London Paddington and then caught the train for Oxford, it was already beginning to get dark. Jake met them at the station in Oxford and drove them home -- where they were delighted with their new kitchen.

'Oh yes.

Much

better,' his mother said.

* * *

The following morning. Jake had not long woken, and he was just heading for the shower, when his father phoned. 'The hedge,' Jake's father said. 'The shelter belt. The bloody wind break thing. Whatever you call it. The trees.'

'Yes. I noticed,' Jake said. 'Have you had a change of heart?'

'What? No. It's all been chopped down.'

'Yes.'

'Yes?'

'I'm confused,' Jake said.

'You're confused. How do you think I feel?'

'Was it not what you expected?'

'No. Who did it?'

'Oh. I assumed that you did,' Jake said. 'Or at least I assumed that you instructed someone.'

'Why would I?' his father said.

'Are you saying that you didn't?'

'Of course I didn't. Why would I?'

'Hmm. Strange,' Jake said. 'The council perhaps?'

'Why would the council do it?' his father asked.

'Well, they do do some pretty weird things,' Jake said. 'Still....'

For a moment or two, his father said nothing. And then he said: 'And I see there seem to be people in the house next door.'

'Yes. I noticed that,' Jake said. 'Perhaps they saw something. Or maybe the kitchen chaps.'

'Mmm. Yes. I'll go over and introduce myself to the new neighbours,' his father said. 'See if they saw anything.'

* * *

Jake's father phoned again later. 'The bloody neighbours,' he said. 'It was

them

.'

'What was them?' Jake asked.

'The hedge. The trees. It was them.'

'Are you sure?'

'Of course I'm sure. They bloody said it was them. They said the trees were blocking their sun.'

'But they're not their trees,' Jake said.

'I know. I told them. But the bloke said that the trees were on their side of the fence. I had to explain to him that the fence wasn't the boundary. But he said of course it was the boundary. I even showed him where the survey pegs were. The boundary is a good couple of metres the other side of the trees. At least. But he just laughed. I told him he'd be hearing from my solicitors.'

'Oh, dear. Not a great start,' Jake said.

'Arrogant prick.'

'I wonder how quickly they grow again,' Jake said. 'The trees, I mean.'

'There has to be some sort of compensation. I suppose Anthony will know. It's going to completely bugger up my plans for planting the fruit trees.

Bastards.

'

Jake tried to think of some simple solution. But he couldn't.

* * *

The following week, Jake had to go up to London for a meeting at UCL. A couple of bright post-grad researchers had come up with a way of recovering micro plastics from sea water. What had begun purely as an ecological measure suddenly looked as if it might have some serious commercial legs. Taking such scientific discoveries 'to market' was Jake's area of expertise.

The meeting went on rather longer than Jake had expected, and he only just made the connection to his train back to Oxford. The carriage was pretty full, but there was one spare seat. It was next to a rather attractive woman nursing a book of Seamus Heaney poems. 'May I?' Jake asked.

'But of course,' the woman said.

'Cutting it a bit fine,' Jake said as the train began to move.

The woman smiled. 'You certainly were. But you made it. That's the main thing.'

'Rather busy this afternoon,' Jake said, looking around.

'The train? Is it not usually?'

'Umm... no. Not at this hour,' Jake said.

'Heading home?' the woman asked.

'Yes. Just up in London for the afternoon. And you?'

'Off to visit my parents. They have been working overseas and they've just moved back to the UK. They've bought a house over in the Cotswolds. Near, umm, Burford.'

'Oh. Burford. That's where my parents are. They recently moved out from London. My father's talking of growing apples. Or making cider. Or something.'

'It's certainly a nice part of the world,' the woman said. 'The Cotswolds, I mean.'

'It certainly is,' Jake agreed. And then he asked: 'How are you getting across to Burford?'

'Dad said if I give him a call, he'll drive in to Oxford and pick me up.'

'Well, if you don't mind a small detour, I can give you a lift,' Jake said. 'I'm going over to have supper with my parents this evening. As I say, they're just out of Burford, so....'

'Oh, thank you. If that's not going to take you out of your way.'

'Not at all. I'm Jake, by the way.'

'Elaine,' the woman said with a smile. 'And thank you.'

* * *

Jake and Elaine chatted pretty much non-stop all the way to Oxford, and then they got into Jake's car and, after stopping briefly at the off licence, they headed for Burford.

'You said just out of Burford,' Jake said. 'Do we have GPS co-ordinates or anything?'

Elaine laughed. 'Nothing quite so high tech, I'm afraid. Hawker's Lane,' she said. 'Apparently it's just off the A40.'

'Oh, yes. I know Hawker's Lane,' Jake said.

'Apparently there's a bridge,' Elaine said. 'And it's the first house after the bridge.'

Jake laughed. 'My parent's place is the second house after the bridge. What are the chances of that, eh?'

Jake dropped Elaine at the first house after the bridge and then went on to his parents' place. It was only as he walked to his parents' front door that it occurred to him that Elaine's parents must have been 'the tree-chopping bastards'. Maybe he wouldn't say anything to his father.

* * *

'I've spoken to Anthony,' Jake's father said, as they sat down for supper. 'About the bastard neighbours. It's all a bit unsatisfactory. Anthony made a fine speech about good fences making for good neighbours. And then he suggested that our first priority should be to establish a good relationship with them. All very well for him. He doesn't have neighbours cutting down his trees. At least I assume he doesn't.'

'I can see his point,' Jake said. 'Sounds like a bit of a misunderstanding.'

'Misunderstanding my arse,' his father said. 'Wanton vandalism.'

'Perhaps if you got them over for a drink and explained why you are so upset,' Jake suggested. 'Tell them about your plans. For the orchard.'

'I'm not the one who cut the trees down,' Jake's father said. 'I've instructed Anthony to send them a strongly-worded letter.'

'You don't really want to create a situation where the only way you speak to your neighbours is through your solicitor,' Jake said. 'Apart from anything else, think of the expense. What's done is done -- however regrettable that is. And it would seem to have been an honest mistake.'

'Nothing honest about it,' Jake's father said.

* * *

Back in Oxford the following day, Jake was on his way to the stationers to get some toner for his desktop printer when he almost walked right into Elaine. 'Oh. Hello. We meet again.'

'So it would seem,' Elaine said. 'How are you?'

'Umm... not bad. Just enjoying a bit of fresh air. How are you? How are your parents finding their new house?'

Elaine laughed. 'I think that they may be having second thoughts about the wisdom of buying houses sight unseen. But I think most of the house's shortcomings are fixable.' And then she said: 'And I gather that there has been a bit of a misunderstanding involving your parents and some trees that Dad thought were his. Or at least on his property.'

'Yes. James, my father, is not at all happy about that. But I can see how it might have happened. And, what is done is done. I've suggested that they need to get together and have a civilised chat.'

Elaine nodded. 'Yes. It does seem to have been an honest mistake.'

'That's what I said. Personally, I'm a bit surprised that the arborists didn't realise that the trees were across the border, so to speak. Still....'

Jake and Elaine chatted on for another couple of minutes, and then Jake suggested that there was 'a pretty decent coffee shop' just around the corner. 'Shall we...?'

Elaine glanced at her watch. 'We could,' she said. 'And then I probably should get Dad's car back to him.'

Over a rather good cup of coffee, Jake and Elaine discovered a bit more about each other; exchanged phone numbers; and tentatively arranged to try out a recently-opened restaurant in Stow-on-the-Wold. 'A recent online review suggested that it has all the makings of a serious destination restaurant,' Jake told Elaine. 'Of course... you can never be entirely sure with online reviews. They could have all been written by the owner's family. Still....'

'But probably worth a visit,' Elaine said.

* * *

It was later that same day, when Jake had had a surprisingly productive afternoon and was just toying with the idea of strolling along to the pub, that his father phoned.

'I've heard from Anthony.'

'And?'

'He's back on the good fences, good neighbours thing. He says that it would be difficult to prove deliberate trespass. Also, since the orchard was still only in the contemplation stage, it would probably be impossible to prove any actual losses. He thinks we should just make peace.'

'And what do you think?' Jake asked.

'It's the principle of the thing,' Jake's father said. 'If the fellow had just come and told me what he was going to do, I could have put him right.'

'But you weren't there. You were three and half thousand miles away. Playing football with your grandchildren.'

'They don't play football,' Jake's father said. 'Ice hockey seems to be their thing. What do you think I should do?'

'I think I'm with Anthony,' Jake said. 'The trees will grow. Eventually. Or at least I assume they will. But let me have a bit of a think about it.'

* * *

'Our parents,' Jake said to Elaine when he phoned her from the pub.

'Our parents?'

'Yes. Do you think that you and I could perhaps convene a peace conference?'

'Someone probably should,' Elaine said. 'Do your parents actually know that you and I know each other?'

'Umm... no. But we could send out a notice along with the invitation,' Jake suggested.

Elaine laughed. 'Why don't we each check out how the land currently lies and perhaps make a bit of a plan,' she suggested.

'Perhaps sooner rather than later,' Jake said.

'Makes sense. Perhaps we could meet around lunchtime tomorrow. You and me. I could come over to Oxford.'

'Yes. We could do that.'

* * *

Friday's weather was not great, and 'The Cherry Orchard' (yes, Jake thought that there was a certain irony in their choice of café) was really busy. 'I guess it's hardly a day for strolling about and admiring the dreaming spires,' Elaine said.

'Unless one is happy to grab glimpses of said spires from beneath the edge of a large brolly.'

'So... what's our plan?' Elaine said.

'Well, I think Father might settle for an apology -- even though it would be an apology for an honest mistake.'

Elaine frowned. 'Dad's not big on being in the wrong,' she said. 'Even though, in this case, it seems that he certainly was. But perhaps if he could pass the blame. The arborists, perhaps. For not checking.'

'Do arborists check these things?' Jake asked.

'I have no idea. But aside from your father and my father, the arborists are the only other parties.'

'True,' Jake said.

'Do you have a better idea?'

'No,' Jake said. And they both laughed.

They agreed that Elaine would persuade her father to make a virtually-meaningless apology, claiming that he had relied on the arborists; and Jake would prime his father to gracefully accept the apology, acknowledging that no real harm had been done and 'worse things happen at sea'. 'And I'll make sure there is a suitable bottle of something on hand to christen their new neighbourly friendship,' Jake said

* * *

'Your neighbours,' Jake said to his father. 'The Hendersons.'

'What about them?'

'I think that Henry might like to make an apology. For the misunderstanding. About the trees.'

'Oh? What makes you think that?'

'Elaine.'

'Elaine? I thought his wife's name was Linda.'

'It is. Elaine is their daughter.'

'I didn't even realise they had a daughter,' Jake's father said.

'Yes. Elaine. She's been down to visit.'

'How do you know?'

'She's... well... a sort of a friend.'

'Oh? Your friend?'

'Yes.'

'So how do you know her?'

'We... umm... met somewhere. Can't remember exactly where. You know how it is. I meet so many people.'

Jake's father nodded. 'And is she... reliable? This....'

'Elaine? Yes, I have always found her to be so.'

'Well... if he wants to apologise...,' Jake's father said.

'He does. But I think for it all to work, you need to play your part.'

'Oh?'

'Yes. I think that you need to accept the apology graciously. Clear the way for a fresh start. You don't want to spend the next ten years -- or however long -- living next door to someone you never speak to, do you?'

For maybe 20 seconds, Jake's father said nothing. And then he nodded. 'No. I suppose not. So... what do we do next?'

'Perhaps invite them over for a glass of wine. Welcome to the neighbourhood. That sort of thing.'

'When?'

'Five-thirty perhaps?'

'What? You mean today?'

'Strike while the iron's hot.'

'You want

me

to go over there?'

'No, no. I can phone Elaine. I think I have her number somewhere.'

Jake's mother was a bit flustered when she discovered that she had only two hours to get the house looking House & Garden-ready.

'I'm sure the house will pass inspection with flying colours,' Jake told her. 'Elaine says that her parents are still in the process of unpacking.'

'Well... if you say so. But I'll need to go and wash my hair.'

'Off you go then,' Jake said.

* * *

'Well, that seemed to go quite well,' Jake said as he and Elaine drove off to Stow-on-the-Wold, leaving their respective parents to get to know each other a little better.

'Yes. I even got the impression that your father is going off the whole orchard idea anyway.'

* * *

By the time that they got to Stow-on-the-Wold, Jake and Elaine were feeling quite pleased with themselves. But then they came back down to earth with a crash. The restaurant was closed. 'Due to circumstances beyond our control', the sign on the door said.

'

Bugger!

They might have at least phoned us,' Jake said. 'What if we had made the journey from... I don't know... Ashford? Or Glasgow?'

'Or New York,' Elaine said.

'Exactly.'

For a while, they both stood there in silence, looking at the closed restaurant's sign, as if looking at it might change its wording (but it didn't), and then Jake said: 'I know... not a restaurant, but a remarkably good pub. With excellent pub grub.'

It was only about a 20 minute drive to The Wheatsheaf. 'Since I'm driving, perhaps just a shandy,' Jake said.