Warning: Episode may contain strong language, violence and sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

PREVIOUSLY…

• Ben’s soon-to-be ex-wife, Rebecca, returned to the village.
• Emma discovered that Tom was cheating on his wife, Kate.
• Queenie and Betty fell out at bingo.
• Neha’s drinking problem began to consume her.
• Julia sought out a private investigator to dig up dirt on Emma.
• Emma fought the urge to tell Nick that she was his biological mother.
• Ed announced to his family that he was going into partnership with Rebecca and had taken out a second mortgage, without Marion’s knowledge, to purchase a commercial property.
• James was tempted by his personal assistant and stepniece, Natalie.
• Charlotte agreed to be interviewed by The Kent Gazette about mental health struggles within the veterinary profession.

Glenbrook Farm,
Glendale

Ben Granger grabbed his cricket bag from the hallway and glanced at his watch. If he left now, he’d have enough time to warm up properly before the match. He had endured one hell of a night with the twins thanks to the unexpected and unwanted visit of his soon-to-be ex-wife, Rebecca Williams. Oliver and Poppy had been overexcited, and once Ben had finally kicked Rebecca out without hearing what she had to say, they had refused to sleep, which, in turn, meant Ben didn’t get his head down until nearer 2 a.m. He was grumpy and cursed Rebecca’s return.

Ben stepped out onto the front porch, and the warm morning sun greeted him, trying to brighten his foul mood. “See ya!” he called back over his shoulder to his mother, Pamela, and the kids. As he shut the front door, a car drove down the long gravel drive towards the farmhouse. Ben squinted, immediately recognising the sleek, silver sedan from the night before. It was Rebecca. His jaw tightened as he watched his ex step out of the car, her movements purposeful and composed. She hadn’t changed much – same impeccable posture, same glossy blonde bob, and the same air of confidence that used to mesmerise him but now only irritated.

“What do you want?” Ben spat at Rebecca, his voice as sharp as a butcher’s knife.

Rebecca closed the car door and walked towards him. She removed her oversized Gucci sunglasses. Her emerald eyes sparkled, and her mouth, painted in glossy red lipstick, was puckered and tight. “Nice to see you too, Benny Boy,” she said, her Chanel pumps crunching on the gravel. “We need to talk.”

“I’ve got a match,” Ben replied, hoping she’d take the hint and leave. He swung his cricket bag over his shoulder and started towards his car.

Rebecca followed him closely. “I’ve been calling you for days!”

“Yeah, and I’ve been ignoring you for days.” Reaching his car, Ben opened the back passenger door and tossed his cricket bag onto the backseat before slamming the door shut and turning to face Rebecca. “I thought we agreed not to talk unless it was something important.”

Rebecca’s eyes narrowed slightly. “This is important. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t, believe me!” She said it with a look of disgust and cast an eye around the farmyard that used to be her home.

“Fine.” Ben sighed. “What’s so important that you had to come all the way back to the village?”

Rebecca took a deep breath, visibly composing herself. “That’s just it,” she said. “I’m moving back to Glendale. For good.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Jubilee Walk,
Glendale

The morning air was warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming wildflowers as Emma Blake jogged along the familiar path of Jubilee Walk that hugged the banks of the burbling River Medway. Her breaths were steady and even.

In the distance, Nick Harrington-Jones rounded a bend and jogged towards her. Emma’s heart skipped a beat. For the second day in a row, her secret son was headed straight for her. Emma had hoped that she would see Nick again this morning, and it seemed like the universe was pulling them together.

“Hi…again!” Emma spoke somewhat breathlessly as Nick approached and passed her by. “Becoming a bit of a coincidence.”

“I guess,” Nick replied with an awkward tone and a polite smile that made Emma cringe. She had overstepped, and he had clearly found it weird.

As Nick’s heavy footfall faded into the distance behind her, Emma slowed her pace and then came to a stop. With her hands on her hips, she sucked in deep breaths of clean morning air and watched Nick round a corner, then disappear from sight. Yearning urged her on. She needed to be near him. With one last deep breath, Emma set off jogging in Nick’s direction.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Glenbrook Farm,
Glendale

“You’re what?” Ben was apoplectic with rage at Rebecca’s announcement. His eyes seemed to cloud over with white, and the thumping pulse of his heartbeat swished blood through his ears. “Are you fucking joking?”

“Still partial to an F-bomb, I see,” Rebecca replied with a tone of sarcasm through a taut mouth.

Ben’s hands cleaned into fists at his sides. Absolutely everything about Rebecca now irritated him. “Don’t do that. Don’t act all superior, like butter wouldn’t melt,” he replied with a glare, reminding his soon-to-be ex-wife of her past attitudes. “You couldn’t have warned me about this earlier?”

“I tried, remember? You wouldn’t answer!” Rebecca snapped back, her composure cracking. “Maybe if you bothered to take my calls…”

Ben ran a hand through his dark hair, feeling the familiar tension building. “Why? You hate this place.”

Rebecca sighed and, surprisingly, nodded in agreement. “Yes,” she agreed with a raised brow, “but Ed made me an offer too good to refuse and—”

“Ed?” Ben cut her off. “As in, Ed Atkins, Ed? What’s he got to do with all this?”

“Ed is opening a practice in the village; well, we are, to be exact.”

Ben frowned and suddenly felt unsteady on his feet. Rebecca wasn’t bluffing. She was moving back to Glendale, and that could only mean disaster for everyone.

“Atkins and Williams,” Rebecca said with a gloating smile as she watched the colour drain from Ben’s face. “Ed’s bought the old haberdashers, and we’re opening in a few months. I thought it was a good opportunity to be more involved in our kids’ lives.”

Ben’s anger continued to rise, especially at the mention of innocent Oliver and Poppy, whom Rebecca had never had any time for previously. “You’ve never wanted anything to do with them since the day they were born.”

“That’s not true!”

“Isn’t it?” Ben cocked a brow and tilted his head. “So, you weren’t hotfooting it back to London a week after they were born and were then so swamped with work that you could only come home a few times a month? You weren’t absent for the early morning feeds, or, come to think of it, all the feeds? You didn’t avoid every single important event in their lives? You didn’t happily abandon them when our marriage collapsed? You didn’t do any of that; is that what you’re telling me?”

Rebecca felt a lump in her throat. It was true; she had been a terrible mother and wife. She had struggled during the pregnancy, and once the twins were born, she felt no maternal bond to them. She knew it had been unfair to leave it up to Ben to raise them, but Rebecca honestly couldn’t face it. It’s not that she wanted to abandon them, but she just couldn’t face being a mother. It didn’t feel in her nature. “I’m still their mother, and I still love them,” she said, trying to convince herself more than anything.

Ben laughed. “Oh, do me a favour!” he scoffed.

“I want to be more involved,” Rebecca replied, her tone softening slightly. “Ollie and Poppy, they need to know that I’m here for them. They need to see that we can work together, even if we can’t stand the sight of each other.”

“Well, none of us want you involved,” Ben barked curtly. He glanced at his watch again. He was now going to be late for the match. With an irritated grunt, he opened the car door, slid into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. “Pack your bags, Rebecca, and piss of back to London because none of us want you here!”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

All Saints Church,
Glendale

The church bells tolled solemnly as Queenie Baxter and Audrey Granger stepped out into the warm morning sunshine. The congregation dispersed in small groups, their murmured conversations floating on the gentle breeze.

Betty Worchester, her old plump hands clutched tightly around her worn leather Bible, barrelled through the lifelong friends, her rhinoceros-like build parting the women like Moses parting the sea. “That was quite a sermon today,” Betty said, her tone caustic as she fired a look at Queenie. “Especially the part about sin and cheating. Almost felt like the vicar was talking about someone we know.”

Queenie’s eyes flashed with irritation. She stopped abruptly on the gravel path, her nostrils flaring in anger and her arthritic hands gripping the silver handle of her walking stick tightly. “Oh, really, Betty, ya fat toad! Are you insinuatin’ somethin’?”

Audrey, always quick to support her best friend, stepped in smoothly. “Now, Betty, let’s not jump to conclusions. The vicar’s words are meant for everyone, not just for—”

“No, Audrey, let ‘er finish,” Queenie interrupted, her voice icy. She sniffed and puckered her mouth as if she’d just sucked on a lemon. “Go on, Betty. Wot exactly are ya tryin’ to say?”

Betty straightened her tired old bones and met Queenie’s vitriolic glare. “Just that it’s funny that you get us banned from bingo last night, bangin’ on about me cheatin’, and now the vicar’s stood up there lookin’ gorgeous as always, bumpin’ his gums about cheatin’ and sin. Coincidence, don’t you think, Lizzie?”

Queenie bristled. She hated the way Betty called her Lizzie. She also hated that it appeared that Betty could possibly be right. Looking back at Reverend Turner’s sermon, there was every chance his words were, in fact, directed to the two feuding old women. “Rocks in ya head!” Queenie sniffed; her lips curled into a snarl. “Go ‘ome, Betty. I ‘ear there’s a battenberg or six waitin’ for ya!”

“You’re a godless woman, Lizzie Baxter!” Betty barked back at Queenie, her tone sharp and each word a pointed dagger. “Godless!”

With a huff, Betty turned and hobbled off down the gravel path that weaved through the churchyard.

“Oh yeah?” Queenie yelled at Betty as she reached the lychgate, passed through it, and stepped onto Queen Victoria Street. “Well, at least I ain’t ugly!”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Glendale Cricket Oval,
Glendale

The village cricket oval buzzed as everyone gathered for the cricket match against Ightham. Emma arrived, fresh from a shower and clutching a blanket and picnic basket full of goodies purchased from Queenie’s store, her eyes scanning the crowd for Ben. She felt a twinge of disappointment when she didn’t see him, but she pushed it aside and made her way to the stands.

Emma spotted Kate Spencer waving her arms above her head at her like a mad woman, already seated with her two youngest, Harry and Noah, who were busy munching on crisps. Kate’s husband, Tom, stood nearby in his cricket whites, his posture stiff and uncomfortable. Emma knew why – she was the keeper of his secret, the one who knew about his affair. She watched as Tom turned on his heel and walked away, unable to meet her eyes.

“Em! Over here!” Kate called in her thick Welsh accent, patting the spot next to her on the blanket.

Emma smiled and made her way over, settling down beside Kate. “Hey guys,” she said, waving at the two boys who barely paid her any notice. “Excited for the match?”

Noah nodded enthusiastically, his cheeks stuffed with crisps like a squirrel, while Harry remained engrossed in a YouTube video on his tablet.

Kate chuckled, handing Emma a plastic cup of Shiraz that she’d purchased specially for her. “Thanks for coming. It’s always more fun with friends.”

Emma took a sip, her eyes drifting to where Tom had retreated to be with his teammates. “It’s a beautiful day for it,” she said, forcing cheerfulness into her voice.

Jasmine Atkins, Nick’s fiancée, joined them, her radiant smile lighting up the group. “Hi, everyone! I hope I’m not too late.”

“Not at all,” Kate replied warmly, pouring Jasmine a plastic cup of Moscato. “The match hasn’t started yet. Still waiting for Ben. We were just getting settled.” She passed the plastic cup to Jasmine, who took a sip.

Emma’s gaze kept flicking to Jasmine, a mixture of emotions churning inside her. Seeing her secret son’s fiancée so close was both comforting and painful. She envied the simplicity of Jasmine’s life, unaware of the tangled web that connected them.

“So, Kate, all set for the party next weekend?” Emma asked, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground.

Kate’s eyes lit up. “Omigod yes! You’ll be there, right?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“What about you, Jaz? Will you and Nicky Boy be able to make it?” Kate asked, taking a sip of her wine.

Jasmine smiled her dazzling smile, glancing at Emma. “We wouldn’t miss it. Nick’s really looking forward to it.”

Emma’s heart ached at the mention of Nick, but she kept her expression neutral.

“It should be a great night,” Jasmine added. “Kate always throws the best parties!”

“Booze and a nineties cover band! What more could you want?” Kate said with a chuckle. “It will be a night to remember!”

Emma forced a smile at Kate and Jasmine and took a sip of Shiraz as the weight of the secrets she was hiding from both women threatened to pull her under.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Glendale Veterinary Practice,
Glendale

The small veterinary clinic, located on the corner of Queen Victoria Street and Mill Road, was a quaint two-storey building built with London stock brick, and its exterior was unassuming but welcoming. A square painted enamel sign, consisting of the silhouettes of a dog and a cat on either side of “GLENDALE VETERINARY PRACTICE” painted in bold black lettering, swung lightly in the breeze. Sienna Hawkins, a seasoned reporter for The Kent Gazette, adjusted her bag on her shoulder as she approached the entrance. She had spent the past few weeks researching mental health struggles in various professions, and today she was there to interview Charlotte Sinclair, a veterinarian known for her passion and candidness on the issue.

The clinic’s bell chimed softly as Sienna stepped inside. An obvious smell of dog greeted her. Charlotte had instructed Sienna to let herself in when she arrived and would leave the door unlocked for her, although the clinic was closed.

“Hello?” Sienna called out in a soft, enquiring voice. “Charlotte?”

Charlotte appeared from a door to the side, smiled warmly, and extended her hand. “Sienna, hi.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sienna replied, shaking Charlotte’s hand firmly. “Thank you for agreeing to this interview. I know it’s a sensitive topic.”

“Yes, it is, but it’s one that needs to be discussed,” Charlotte said, heading back into the room from which she came. Sienna followed. The office was small and clinical and still smelled pungently of dog. Charlotte gestured to a chair in front of her desk. “Please, have a seat.”

Sienna sat down, pulling out her notebook and a recorder. “I appreciate your willingness to speak openly about mental health in your profession. It’s a subject that’s often overlooked.”

Charlotte sat in her chair on the opposite side of the desk and nodded. A deep exhale of breath escaped her. “It is. Many people don’t realise the emotional toll that veterinary work can take. We’re expected to be strong for our patients and their owners, but sometimes it’s hard to hold it together.”

Sienna clicked her pen, ready to take notes. “Can you tell me about some of the challenges you face as a vet?”

Charlotte took a deep breath, glancing out the window for a moment before speaking. “Well, it’s a combination of things, really,” she said, starting the interview.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Greenview Cottage,
Glendale

Ed and his wife, Marion, hadn’t spoken to each other since their heated argument the night before. Marion had made it clear without uttering a single word that Ed was not welcome in their bedroom, so he had spent the night on the couch. She couldn’t find it in her heart to forgive him for forging her signature to take out a second mortgage to purchase a commercial property they couldn’t afford. She also struggled to comprehend how he could have quit his high-paying job in London, established a new business, and gone into partnership with a woman whom the whole of Glendale knew was bad news without telling her.

Ed put a cup of freshly brewed coffee down on the small table beside Marion as she sat in an armchair reading her latest Ruth Jones novel. “Peace offering?”

Marion remained unmoved as her eyes scanned the pages of her book.

Ed swallowed hard. This was the longest they’d gone without saying a single word to each other, and it troubled him. “How long am I going to be in the doghouse for?” he asked, crouching down at Marion’s side and placing his hand gently on her arm.

Marion shrugged Ed off and continued to ignore him. He really was the most awfully selfish person she had ever known and she was too angry to form a sentence.

Ed sighed and rose to his feet. “I’m meeting Rebecca shortly to go through the building. Did you want to come?”

Marion snapped the book shut. Her head whipped in Ed’s direction. He could see the fury burning in her glare. “Are you that fucking stupid?” she barked, her voice trembling slightly with anger. “So, you’re going ahead with it then?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Ed frowned. “I told you that I’ve quit my job, and we’ve already exchanged contracts on the property. This is happening, Marion, whether you like it or not.”

Marion bristled at Ed’s attitude and a feral anger began to consume her. His lack of understanding or care completely astounded her, let alone his lack of respect for her as his wife and life partner. “Well, good fuckin’ luck,” she said, her tone caustic. “Don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart. And it will; believe me, Ed, it will.”

Without another word, Marion rose from her seat, tucked her book under her arm, collected the cup of coffee, and stormed out of the room.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Thyme Cottage,
Glendale

Despite the mid-afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the village, turmoil brewed in the Patel’s living room. With her husband, Ashwin, off playing cricket, Neha sat on the couch, an array of empty bottles on the coffee table in front of her. The TV played an old rerun of “Four in a Bed,” although Neha wasn’t really watching. The chatter of the contestant’s voices provided a dull hum in the background.

Neha took a long gulp from her glass, emptying its contents and feeling the familiar burn of the alcohol as it slid down her throat. The numbness was a temporary solace, a way to drown out the persistent whispers of sadness and loneliness that plagued her childless thoughts. Neha knew she was losing control, and she didn’t care.

The house felt stifling. Neha stood up, swaying slightly, and made her way to the kitchen. She opened the fridge, scanning its contents for another bottle. Finding none, she sighed in frustration and grabbed a beer instead.

As she cracked open the can, Neha caught a glimpse of herself in the reflective surface of the microwave. Her eyes, once bright and full of life, now looked dull and haunted. She barely recognised the woman staring back at her. As her eyes began to burn with tears, she took a long swig from the can and headed back into the living room, planning to drink herself into oblivion.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

The Oak & Vine,
Glendale

“Here you go, sweets,” said Carol Kennedy, landlady of The Oak & Vine, as she placed a tray of drinks and a ploughman’s platter on a small wooden table in front of Jack Campbell and his husband, Lee.

“Thanks, Carol.” Jack smiled as Carol gave him a friendly wink and a squeeze of the shoulder before returning indoors.

Sat in the beer garden of The Oak & Vine, the couple soaked up the deliciously warm sunshine on one of their rare joint days off. It was a perfect Sunday, the kind that made life feel uncomplicated and full of promise. “A Wedgwood day,” as Jack’s late grandmother would have called it, full of blue skies and pearly white clouds.

Jack leant back in his chair, taking his pint of ale from the tray and welcoming a long sip. He watched a group of kids playing an impromptu game of football in the village green across the road. Their laughter carried on the breeze. He nudged Lee, who was nursing his pint of cider, his gaze distant.

“Look at them,” Jack said, nodding towards the green as he returned his sunglasses to his face to beat the glare of the sunshine. “They’re having the time of their lives. It reminds me of when we were kids.”

Lee glanced over, a faint smile touching his lips. “You played sports. I danced to the Spice Girls.”

Jack laughed a hearty laugh. He had missed this. Things had felt tense between them since Lee mentioned the bakery struggling, only amplified by the already growing distance between them that Jack had put down to his increasing work hours and long night shifts as a police sergeant. Jack hesitated for a moment, then took the plunge. “You know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we should have a kid. Imagine having a little one of our own running around here, playing on the green.”

Lee’s smile faded, his eyes dropping to his pint glass. He swirled the amber liquid slowly, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. The silence stretched between them, becoming more palpable with each passing second.

Jack noticed Lee’s silence, his heart sinking a little. “What do you think?”

Lee took a deep breath, finally meeting Jack’s gaze hidden behind sunglasses. “I don’t know, babe. I mean, I love our life as it is. The freedom, the quiet. Kids…they change everything.”

Jack’s face fell, the excitement draining away. He moved his sunglasses to the top of his head, allowing Lee to look into his eyes. “I know they do, but isn’t that part of the adventure? Building a family together?”

Looking at his husband, Lee forced a taut smile and gave a soft nod. He didn’t agree, but he could clearly see the look of disappointment etched across Jack’s face. “Maybe,” he said. “Let’s think about it, yeah?”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

15 Queen Victoria Street,
Glendale

Ed pushed open the creaky door of the old haberdashers, the bell above it chiming softly. He stepped inside, followed closely by Rebecca. The space was dimly lit, with dust motes dancing in the sunlight that filtered through the dirty windows. The shop had character and a sense of history that they both hoped to preserve even as they transformed it into the new Atkins & Williams offices.

“Well, here it is,” Ed said, spreading his arms wide. “Our future office. It needs some work, obviously, but I think it’s got great bones.”

Rebecca nodded, her eyes scanning the room. “It certainly has potential. I can already see where the reception desk will go, and we can knock down that wall to open up the space.”

Ed smiled, appreciating Rebecca’s vision after the tense discussion with Marion. “Exactly! And we can keep some of the original features.”

They walked further inside, discussing their plans and envisioning the future. Ed’s phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the moment. He glanced at the screen and felt a pang of unease. It was a number he recognised and one that shouldn’t be calling him.

“Everything okay?” Rebecca asked, noticing his distracted look and tense posture.

Ed forced a smile and quickly rejected the call. “Yeah, just a spam call. Nothing to worry about,” he lied.

Rebecca nodded, although she did not believe him, and turned her attention back to the shop. “So, what do you think about this space over here for the conference room?”

Ed followed her gaze, but his mind remained elsewhere. The rejected call lingered in his thoughts, a reminder of secrets he hoped would stay buried.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Ashbourne House,
Glendale

The black Rolls-Royce Phantom, owned by James Harrington-Jones, pulled up to the ornate wrought iron gates of Ashbourne House. The gates, exact replicas of the ones at Sandringham House, opened as a silver sedan drove out. James watched the car pass and looked at the driver, a man he didn’t recognise, who nodded politely as he drove by. The silver sedan drove away from Ashbourne House as James’ car started down the gravel driveway lined with ancient oak trees.

-:-

“Julia?” James called out to his wife, a curiosity in his tone as he hurried through the front door. His voice echoed around the expansive entry hall.

Silence.

“Julia?”

“What? What is it?” Julia appeared at the top of the sweeping double staircase and frowned down at her husband. “What’s wrong?”

James’ eye twitched at her casualness, and he crossed his arms. “I just saw a car leaving,” he said with an almost accusatory tone.

Julia shrugged at James’ marvellous observational skills. “Congratulations. You can cancel your Specsavers appointment. And what of it?”

Jealousy bubbled inside James. He didn’t like it when the shoe was on the other foot. “Who was it?”

“Damon Winters,” Julia replied, a delicious lick to her voice as she started down the staircase, revelling in embarrassing her husband slightly. “A private investigator.”

James’ eyes followed his wife as she descended the stairs. “Private investigator?” Julia breezed past James and headed towards the kitchen. He followed close behind. “What are you hiring a private investigator for?”

Julia sensed the nervousness and panic in James’ voice and made a mental note of it. She opened the refrigerator and helped herself to a chilled bottle of Evian water. “Because I want to know everything there is to know about Emily Barlow, or Emma Blake, or whatever it is she’s calling herself today,” she said, closing the fridge door and looking back at James as she unscrewed the bottle cap and took a sip. “And I’m going to destroy that woman before she has the opportunity to destroys us.”

NEXT TIME…

• The village gathers for Kate’s birthday party.
• Neha spirals out of control.
• Marion’s doubts about Ed grow.