Annie's Apple Day

She'd not long moved in, but everything she needed to take part in the village festival was at her fingertips...

- VIVIEN BROWN

If there was one thing Annie Carlton was proud of - apart from her granddaughters, of course - it was her apples. Not that she could take the credit for them, really.

There had been a small orchard thriving at the bottom of her garden for decades before she arrived in the village.

It was the sight of those beautiful trees bending under the weight of the last of the season's luscious red fruit that had made Annie fall in love with Russet Cottage the first time she saw it.

Never mind that the whole place needed decorating; or that the rest of the garden was overrun with weeds; or that there were slates missing from the roof.

All that could be fixed easily enough, given time and hard work, and a bit of professional help when needed. Having just taken early retirement, she had wanted to find somewhere pretty and peaceful, and this was it.

Her city flat sold quickly and, within four months of her first viewing, with the savings she and her late husband Bill had scraped together and the lump sum from her pension to help her, she had made an offer on the cottage and moved in.

The trees were bare and snowcovered when she arrived, but she could hardly wait for the next apple crop, when she would be able to pick the fruit fresh from the trees, make pies and crumbles for the freezer, and perhaps even try her hand at some chutney.

She had never had the time when she was working, and her small flat had had no garden, just a balcony and a few pots.