Escape to Honeysuckle Hall

by Rebecca Raisin

  ‘Do I need to get the paddles?’ Maya leans in, whispering, ‘For your brain!? What are you on about?’

  Holy guacamole. ‘I have sunstroke.’

  Leo grins at me, like he’s in on the secret, and I don’t have enough brain capacity at the moment to think what it could mean. I shake off my fugue-like state; Leo has some kind of sorcery about him that makes me leave my body and float away. It’s not good, not good at all. I can’t think when he’s around.

  To counter the strange feeling, I remind myself of my bank balance and that’s enough to shock me back to the present. ‘Right, let’s continue.’

  We spend the next little while going through every small detail. Leo seems intent on making sure I’m aware of the costing for each job and just what I can expect to be done, and to talk through the other work that we can leave until the following year when I hope the coffers will be a little healthier.

  As we wander around the grounds more ideas come to mind. ‘What about the grassed area near the lake? Do you think you could tidy that up too? I don’t think it needs much but it’s hard to tell while it’s so overgrown.’

  The lake is what attracted me to the place. It’s not part of the property but it runs directly behind it next to the woodland. I’m envisaging future summer camps; kayaks whipping along the glittering blue water. Campers sunbathing on the shoreline.

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ he says. ‘I’m fairly certain from hiking along here that it’s flat land, so I don’t think it’ll take much to get that in order. What did you want to do with it?’

  ‘Don’t laugh but I’m thinking of tepees. For those who want a real camping experience but perhaps a little more luxurious than a tent.’

  ‘Glamping?’

  ‘Sort of, but there won’t be TVs and that kind of thing. And no actual beds, just air mattresses for the foreseeable. That view needs to be enjoyed.’ And just like everything it all comes down to money, money, money.

  ‘I love that idea.’

  He loves it. It’s a good sign. ‘Good quality tepees are a little pricey though so I’ll have to ring around and see what I can get them for.’

  ‘I can help with that. There’s a guy in town who makes all sorts of camping equipment. I’ll ask him if you like?’

  ‘That would be amazing. I’d love to support local businesses as much as I can.’

  ‘OK, leave that with me. And we’ll get that area tidied up and go from there.’

  We discuss various ideas and before long I realise he’s been here for an hour or so and Maya is nowhere to be seen. I can’t even remember when she left us. I’ve probably been running on autopilot again, rambling to keep the nerves at bay. ‘Sorry, I’ve kept you chatting for so long. You must be sick of hearing about the place!’

  ‘Not at all. I’m looking forward to starting the work. This place just needs a loving hand and it really won’t take much. For its age, it has held up well. And all it needs now is to be filled with the sound of laughter, of people enjoying it for what it was always intended to be.’

  ‘That’s going to be the best part. I can’t wait to see campers wandering around and soaking up the scenery. Did you know the previous owners?’ The estate agent didn’t have much to say about them, just that the price had been drastically reduced because it had sat on the market too long and squatters had begun to take over.

  Leo shakes his head. ‘It’s been empty since I arrived in town over a couple of years ago. But there’s always the same old rumours buzzing about.’

  I cock my head. ‘Like what?’

  He waves me away. ‘The usual gossip you get with old halls like this.’

  ‘Let me guess, it’s haunted?’

  He grins. ‘Of course – aren’t they all? Have you seen any ghosts?’ he says with a half-smile as if there’s no such thing.

  ‘No, not a thing, how disappointing is that!’ I think of the strange notes but stop short of telling him for some reason. I don’t want to be thought of as the nervous newcomer.

  ‘It does make you wonder though, right? Maybe if you slept in the hall you’d have a visit.’

  I shudder at the thought. ‘I suppose I should test it out if I’m going to stick other people out there,’ I say jokingly while I really think: No way in hell am I sleeping out there even if you paid me. Although I’m sure my campers will be just fine. Safety in numbers and all that. And ghosts aren’t real!

  ‘You could do ghost tours!’

  I laugh, while internally I quail. ‘There’s an idea. I could fling a white sheet over Es and have her scare everyone with a long boooo.’

  ‘Esterlita does like performing, that’s for sure.’

  ‘She sure does! Seriously though, I do wonder about the history. From the first noble family, and then a home for wayward children, which just sounds evil, and then being requisitioned in WWI. And finally becoming a finishing school. So many lives have been lived here, the grand old dame must’ve seen it all. And then you have the local lore … although no one is all that forthcoming about the place, like I thought they’d be.’

  ‘They will be once you’ve been here a while. You’ll be inundated with gossip. Once it travels up and down the grapevine these things tend to get out of hand. Like with you for—’ He stops suddenly, catching himself.

  ‘Like with me?’ There’s more? I can only imagine, especially after red dress fiasco. ‘What do “they” say?’ Little does he know I’ve already heard half of it at Rise.

  He kicks at the ground, looking anywhere but at me.

  I touch his arm. ‘It’s OK. You can tell me.’

  He runs a hand through his hair and looks as though he wants the ground to swallow him whole. ‘They say that you were friends with the A-list, whatever that means. That you brushed shoulders with royalty, billionaires, the list goes on. Some say you got them anything they wanted, from visits with celebrities to tickets to sold-out events. Others say that was a cover because you were dealing in stolen artworks and diamonds.’ He grimaces. ‘Sorry.’

  Laughter barrels out of me. ‘Wow, I’m a trafficker?’

  He shrugs as if he doesn’t quite know what to believe. ‘Well, there’s also a rumour that your fiancé ran off with some reality TV singer and apparently it was because you kept him on a very short lead. Did you have a basement in your London flat by chance?’

  I smile again. ‘No basement. He wasn’t locked up and he was most definitely not on a short lead. But he did run off with Carly C, once a reality TV star, now world’s biggest pop sensation. So “they” did get that part right.’ That there’s more truth than I thought to the gossip in town worries me a little. Maybe that’s the way small gossip starts, from a kernel of truth. While I grew up in a tiny village, I wasn’t privy to that side of things as a youngster. I’m still shocked at how much they’ve managed to unearth. Don’t they have better things to do than dig up my past?

  ‘Wow. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Well … that’s Harry.’ It’s my turn to shrug. ‘I think I prefer being known as someone who sells stolen art and big fat diamonds.’

  ‘Why did he do that?’ Leo seems sincerely confused.

  I sigh. ‘Harry always had an eye for the finer things in life, and Carly C hit the spot. It helps she’s absolutely gorgeous and talented, I suppose. I’m rather lacking in comparison.’ Urgh, who wants to be this person, but I’m not fishing for pity, I’m being brutally honest. There’s no point lying: Carly C is genuinely stunning, talented and hot property right now. Why wouldn’t Harry jump at the chance? Trust and love mean different things to different people. ‘Anyway, enough about all that. I guess I’ll have to keep the town on their toes and not tell them a thing!’

  Leo laughs. ‘Well, then there was the pub visit … They’d been expecting a sedate sort of Kate Middleton vibe and you showed up in that very short, very red, sparkly dress and it threw everyone off.’

  I groan and cover my face. ‘Esterlita and Maya made me.’

  ‘It sure got tongues wagging.
’

  ‘All publicity is good publicity, right?’ I’m reminded of thinking the exact same thing about Carly C, back when I thought I could trust my fiancé, before an exposé put paid to all that. Remembering it now doesn’t hurt quite so much. Is it because of Leo? Staring into his glittery blue eyes, it’s hard to not to compare him to Harry but I can see that they’re two totally different personality types. The only thing they have in common is they’re both a little too good-looking. Why can’t Leo have some fault? Why does he have to be so perfect? What am I even saying?!

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Let’s go have some lunch so you can forget about all of this!’

  ‘I don’t think I can forget the dress, sorry. It’s burned into my retinas.’

  ‘That’s because of the blood-red. Bloody Esterlita!’

  ‘Yes?’ she calls from the comfort of the porch. ‘I can’t stay long today, I have to help set up for a wedding at church tomorrow. But I’ll pray for you. For your decorating skills, dress sense and the fact you’re single.’

  My complexion doesn’t redden; I’m either getting used to Esterlita’s pronouncements or she’s losing her touch. ‘That’s very kind of you, Esterlita.’

  ‘You’re welcome. I had this vision …’ Maybe not.

  ‘I bet you did. Tell me later, yeah?’ I give her my goggle-eyes and hope she translates my meaning for once.

  The last thing I want to do is scare my ultra-cheap carpenter away with one of Esterlita’s ‘visions’.

  Inside Maya has made a feast of summer salads and seafood. ‘Hey.’ She smiles. ‘How’d you guys go?’

  ‘Great. Leo says we can have this place up and running in two weeks. So that means I’ve got a lot of organising to do. We can start taking bookings!’ My mind spins with my already massive to-do list. I still need to order new mattresses, pillows. I need kitchen crockery. From my back pocket I take my phone and add a few other things to the list. There’s a bunch of notifications on Facebook and I quickly swipe to see who they’re from.

  We’re keeping tabs on you! #CarlyArmy

  I delete them and hope they’ll soon get bored. The media storm about me certainly hasn’t helped. I have done nothing and yet have been painted in such a bad light by Carly C’s fans who have this unwarranted notion I’m all set for revenge. Little do they know I wouldn’t go near Harry again if you paid me, and Carly C isn’t on my hit list. I’m only disappointed the whole ‘wear your crown, queens, and lift each other up’ stuff is all another spin.

  ‘You OK?’ Leo asks.

  ‘Yeah, sorry, work stuff.’ I swipe out of Facebook and go back to my notes. ‘I’m going to try and source as much as I can locally to help the community,’ I say for Leo’s benefit and hope he’ll spread that little nugget of information around. They might believe that I sell stolen priceless pieces of art but hey, at least I spend the profits in town …

  ‘First up is finding the camp leader. Leo, do you know anyone who would suit?’ Maya fills Leo in on the idea.

  ‘There might be a few people in town who’d fit the bill, but it’ll be a matter of finding someone you gel with, Orly.’

  ‘Preferably one who doesn’t think I deal in stolen goods.’

  ‘What the heck?’ Maya asks.

  ‘I’ll tell you later.’ I laugh. Living in a small town sure will take some getting used to. Although with Leo here, things are looking that little bit brighter. He’ll sort the hall and grounds while I focus on the biz. A tingle races the length of me and I realise I haven’t felt this inspired since I started Excès all those years ago. The buzz of a new challenge is a heady thing.

  After lunch, Leo says a slow goodbye. I can’t help but tingle at his touch when he leads me outside to show me where he thinks the old fountain in the photo used to be, and how he proposes I build a new one when the money starts coming in.

  I know the girls will be peeking out the window so I try and push that from my mind and focus on him alone. He stares at me like I’m a mystery he’s trying to unravel and holds my gaze until I blush and look away. What does he see when he studies me so closely? We make small talk about this and that until we eventually run out of things to say and just stare at each other. There’s something so compelling about Leo and I can’t quite put my finger on it.

  ‘Well, I’d better head back inside and make sure Esterlita isn’t painting the walls tangerine.’

  ‘Yes, sorry I kept you so long. I’ll see you soon, and thanks again for lunch.’ He goes to shake my hand, but I lean in and give him a quick peck on the cheek, which surprises us both. Didn’t I just give myself a silent pep talk about why this wouldn’t be a good idea? What is it about him that I find so captivating? It’s more than just the way he looks; it’s the way he makes me feel when I’m alone with him, like we could be the last two people on the planet and that would be fine by me. I get this electric buzz, this strange sort of fire inside that makes me want to act rashly around him and it’s hard to rein it in.

  There’s a commotion at the window. I turn and see what looks like someone getting brutally murdered by the curtains but is more likely Esterlita tangled inside them. ‘You’d better go rescue her,’ he says, laughing.

  ‘Thanks, Leo, and see you soon.’ I watch him drive away, taking a teeny-tiny piece of my heart with him. I don’t want to have to trust a man again, but clearly my body and brain haven’t got the memo. When my pulse slows to its usual rhythms, I go back inside the cottage, ready to be interrogated.

  ‘What was that about?’ Maya asks.

  ‘What was what about?’ I stall for time.

  She stares me down. ‘Did you not just yesterday spend an hour telling me how you’d sworn off men?’

  Moi? ‘Yes, yes I did. But Leo has some kind of pull over me and I forget who I am and what I’m doing when he’s around. I don’t think I can be trusted to be alone with him. If he calls tell him I’ve moved. Tell him I’ve changed my mind. I’ll dye my hair red and say I’m Orly’s twin sister come to fix up her bad choices.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why what?’

  ‘Why pretend?’

  ‘Because I do stupid things like peck him on the cheek!’

  She groans. ‘Orly, you should follow your heart.’

  ‘Look what happened last time I did that, Maya! Harry happened.’

  ‘Leo is nothing like Harry.’

  I fold my arms. ‘You don’t know that for sure.’

  ‘I don’t, but I’d hazard a guess Leo is a good guy. I’ve seen the long, lingering looks between you two. Your heart recognises he’s a good guy; you just need your brain to catch up.’

  I scoff.

  ‘She is a heart doctor,’ Esterlita says. ‘I think she’s more qualified in this department than you.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you’ve got me on a technicality there. I’m just not ready for all that.’ But the words are hollow, even to me. It’s tempting to think of Leo in such a way, but it’s too risky.

  ‘What if we found out more about him?’ Esterlita says.

  ‘No,’ I groan. ‘Not another Esterlita intervention.’

  ‘I think it’s a great idea,’ Maya says.

  ‘What don’t we know?’

  ‘Well,’ Esterlita adds, ‘why has he been single this whole time? Why isn’t he married? Why does he hike like he’s got something to hide?’

  ‘See what you’ve started?’ I say to Maya and shake my head laughing. Why does he hike like he’s got something to hide, for crying out loud? Esterlita just can’t understand why people behave differently to her. It instantly makes her suspicious when there’s absolutely nothing there.

  ‘Let’s find out what makes Leo tick,’ Maya says.

  The poor guy is not going to know what hit him, but I suppose it’ll be one way of scaring him off.

  We retreat to the hall to check the rooms and decide on colour schemes for the linen and décor. ‘Before you even suggest it, Es, there’s not going to be any blood-red, no fuchsia and def
initely no magenta.’

  She drops her bottom lip before saying. ‘Orly, you’re going to give yourself bad luck you know.’

  ‘I like living on the edge.’

  ‘One day you’ll fall off,’ she says ominously.

  ‘That’s something to look forward to.’

  ‘So rugs, bed linen, towels, artwork – a print of some kind – what else are you thinking in here, Orly?’ Maya asks.

  ‘I’ve got small desks with chairs coming from the antique emporium. They’re all different but they fit the era and will look great in the room. They’re also delivering armoires for clothing so I’ll need coat hangers, a notebook and pen for the desk, or do you think we should make a keepsake like a diary they can take home? The cover could be a photograph of the hall and grounds?’

  ‘Love that idea. What about the beds? Are you getting new ones?’

  I look to the wrought-iron bed frames, touched with a small amount of rust from age and disuse. Even though they’ve been abandoned, they’re still top quality and sturdy as the hills. ‘Leo reckons he can save these frames.’

  ‘Well, they suit the look you’re going for. And that will save you some money.’

  ‘So what colour for the linen?’

  ‘Navy blue with white piping. Practical and also lush.’

  ‘Yes!’ Maya says. ‘That’s very luxe.’

  ‘Then navy towels, and navy and white pinstriped satin curtains,’ I say.

  ‘I still think this is a lot of money to sink into a place when you could just renovate and sell for a profit, Orly. Have you ever thought of that?’

  ‘That’s not what I’m after though, Es. I really want to help people, and this is the only way I know how.’

  The girls wander into the next room, while I double-check the bathroom. As I’m about to close the door I see another scrunched-up note on the floor. It could just be rubbish but somehow I know it isn’t. As I drop to unravel it I see that it says: You’re putting people in danger.

  It’s got to be Freya, or her knitting club friend Josie. Then there’s the Carly Army – but could a bunch of young adults really take their love of a celebrity so far? Or could it be someone else in town who believes the gossip? Maybe there’s a whole bunch of Freyas who want me gone. Do they really believe I deal in illegal activities because a woman my age shouldn’t be able to afford such a property? It’s as though I’ve jumped back a few decades when it comes to being an independent woman here, almost as if it’s a bad thing!