Gibbet Hill

 When Grace confronts estate agent Scarlett at a remote Yorkshire cottage, she's certain she's found her husband's mistress. Bob has been talking about the beautiful, auburn-haired Scarlett in his sleep, and Grace demands the truth. But Scarlett's revelation turns everything upside down— 

Transcript

Gibbet Hill

"What have you got for me this morning, Bob?"

The offices of Countrywide Estate Agents dominated the High Street of Ripon. Its sleek modern exterior clashed with the sandstone Edwardian fronts of the restaurants and tourist shops of this busy market town.

"You have a viewing at the cottage in Melonsby at ten. Mrs. Barton has specifically asked for you. You seem to be building a reputation for yourself, Scarlett. Who's Mrs. Barton?"

She didn't like her boss Bob Thatcher, but she needed the work, and she smiled.

"Contacts, Bob, you told me that's what this business is all about." Scarlett had no idea who Mrs. Barton was, but Bob didn't need to know that.

"OK, go get 'em, girl." Bob handed her the property keys and at the same time put his arm around Scarlett's shoulder. Scarlett grabbed her sales file and quickly made her way towards the door.

"See you," she said as she forced a weak smile. She muttered the word "Slimeball" under her breath as she swept out of the office, waving goodbye to the other agents.

The cottage at Melonsby had been on the market for over a year. It had been a holiday home for a couple from London who had hardly ever visited it. It was tiny and needed a lot of work done. Bob had increased the commission on it as well as getting the owners to drop the price, but it still wasn't selling.

Scarlett's Range Rover made its way down the rutted track that led to the cottage, and already she could see a car parked outside. "That's a good sign. She's keen," she thought. "Maybe today would be a lucky day."

Grace watched as Scarlett got out of her car and walked towards hers. "Bob," she thought, "is right, she is gorgeous." There was a confidence about her that Grace wished she had.

"Mrs. Barton, very pleased to meet you." Scarlett extended her hand, and without thinking about it, Grace shook it. She also noticed that Scarlett was making direct eye contact with her, which was very unsettling.

"And nice to meet you," Grace said as she forced a smile. Which, of course, it wasn't.

Grace stared at Scarlett. She was certainly beautiful; her auburn hair seemed to glow in the morning sunlight, and as she looked at her emerald green eyes, she understood why Bob was smitten.

Scarlett had begun her sales pitch and was extolling the virtues of the view from Gibbet Hill across the sweeping Yorkshire countryside and the rugged construction of the cottage, but Grace wasn't listening.

"Shall we go inside?" Scarlett unlocked the door and stepped back to let Grace go first. Number one rule in the Estate Agent playbook: Always let the client enter first.

Grace smelled the dampness straight away. A half-hearted attempt had been made to make the place look homely, but some dried flowers and cheery paintings couldn't hide the neglect. It was grim.

"First impressions?" Scarlett regretted the words as soon as she said them because she knew the answer would not be a good one.

Grace was shaking inside and her mind was in a fog.

"I need to sit down. I don't feel well." Scarlett pulled a chair out from under the small table by the window.

"I'll get you a glass of water."

Scarlett appeared moments later from the kitchen. "I'm sorry, that took a while. I had to run the tap to get clear water."

Grace sipped the water and said, "Please sit down, Scarlett. I'm afraid I got you here under false pretences."

"I'm sorry? Are you not interested in buying the cottage?"

"Good God, no. It's a dump."

"I don't understand."

"Then let me explain. My name isn't Mrs. Barton, it's Mrs. Thatcher. Bob, your boss, is my husband."

Scarlett looked across at the cottage door, then at the table.

"Please sit down."

"I don't understand. What is going on?"

"Oh, I think you understand very well. You," she said, "are having an affair with my husband."

Although she was still confused, Scarlett couldn't help laughing.

"It is not a laughing matter, and don't bother denying it."

"I will deny it. I wouldn't touch Bob with a ten-foot barge pole. He's a creep. Sorry, I know he's your husband, but he's horrible. Why would you possibly think he's having an affair with me?"

"I don't think, I know because he told me."

"Then he's a liar."

"Why would he say such a thing?"

"I have no idea, but he is definitely not my type."

"But he talks about you in his sleep. You are the liar. Bob's a good man, and you, you little harlot, have led him on."

"Every woman in the office knows not to be alone near Bob and his wandering hands. If I didn't need this job, I would have left ages ago."

"I love him, and you can't have him."

"Look, Grace, I don't know what else I can say to convince you, but there is a very good reason why I am not interested in Bob or any other man. I am married to a lovely teacher called Susan and have been for the last three years. Bob knows that, but it doesn't seem to stop him trying it on."

Scarlett opened her handbag and took out a photo. "This is Susan, and this is us on our wedding day. Now do you believe me?"

Grace looked down at the photo and then back up at Scarlett. "It is you! I don't understand."

"It's simple. Bob's gaslighting you. If you want my advice, you need to dump him. You deserve better."

Grace stared silently at the wedding photo, tears welling in her eyes. The cottage's damp walls seemed to close in around her.

"I... I don't know what to say," she finally whispered. "He told me you were obsessed with him. That you were trying to break us up."

Scarlett shook her head. "Classic manipulation. He's probably using me as cover for someone else."

Grace's phone buzzed with a text. Bob: How's the viewing going? Did she take the bait?

She showed it to Scarlett, whose eyes widened. "What does he mean by that?"

"Last night I found messages on his phone. When I confronted him, he claimed you were pursuing him, that you'd become unstable. He suggested I meet you here to 'see for myself.' He said you'd try to convince me he was the problem."

Scarlett laughed bitterly. "And here I thought I was just doing my job."

"I should have known better," Grace said, wiping her eyes. "The late nights, the excuses... I wanted to believe him. But seeing that text now—this was never about you, was it?"

"I'm sorry," Scarlett said gently.

"Don't be." Grace stood up straighter. "I needed this wake-up call."

As they walked outside into the Yorkshire sunshine, Grace paused by the cottage gate. "You know, I've always loved this view from Gibbet Hill. Maybe I should be the one to buy this place after all."

Scarlett raised an eyebrow. "It needs a lot of work."

"So did my marriage," Grace replied with newfound determination. "But unlike that, this cottage has potential."

Three months later, as autumn painted the hills gold, Scarlett pulled up to the cottage again. The transformation was remarkable—fresh paint, new windows, and a garden coming to life. Grace waved from the doorway, a toolbelt around her waist and divorce papers filed.

"Welcome to my new beginning," she said, as Scarlett and Susan stepped inside for tea.

Lyrics

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him just because you can

Your beauty is beyond compare

With flaming locks of auburn hair

With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green

Your smile is like a breath of spring

Your voice is soft like summer rain

And I cannot compete with you

Jolene

He talks about you in his sleep

And there's nothing I can do to keep

From crying when he calls your name

Jolene

And I can easily understand

How you could easily take my man

But you don't know what he means to me

Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him just because you can

You could have your choice of men

But I could never love again

He's the only one for me

Jolene

I had to have this talk with you

My happiness depends on you

And whatever you decide to do

Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him even though you can

Jolene, Jolene