by Lynda Stacey
‘Please, everyone, please, go back to what you were doing. Everything’s fine.’ Her voice seemed to come through a mist that surrounded her. But nothing was fine and her voice felt like a delusional hallucination that reverberated around the room. To her, it didn’t even sound like her voice. ‘I’ll ask Nomsa to make some tea, please, there’s nothing to see here.’ The words automatically fell from her mouth.
Jack appeared from nowhere and Bernie quickly told him the news. He went pale, clutched for a chair and slumped down. His head immediately dropped into his hands. He struggled to compose himself and stared at the floor before searching the room and then finally he slowly stood up, took in a deep breath, and then walked over to where Madeleine stood holding onto the library door.
‘Sorry, Mrs Frost,’ she heard Jack say. ‘Forgive me, I’m so sorry for your loss.’
Madeleine shook her head. ‘I’m sorry for your loss too, Jack. I know that you and my father were close.’
Her heart went out to him. Morris Pocklington may have been her father, but Jack had probably known him better than she had. They’d worked together, relied on each other and worked side by side for years. Her father had spoken highly of him and no one could have ever doubted Jack’s loyalty.
‘Jack, when Nomsa arrives, could you ask her to make some tea for the guests?’ She paused. ‘Yes, I think we should make tea, isn’t that what we should do?’
‘Yes, Mrs Frost. Leave it with me,’ he said.
Turning away, Madeleine went to walk back into the library where the two policemen still waited.
Bandit ran towards the hall, past the horses, the sheep and the pigs. He breathed naturally, running had always been a big part of his life and although the lane was long he sprinted up it without thought. He could see the police cars at the front of the house and immediately headed to the back.
He’d heard the news, knew what had happened and knew that the night would be long, full of tears, memories and devastation. He had no idea what he would do once he got into the house. No idea what his job would be, except that he knew he had to be there, be part of the team, do what was needed and help with whatever he was told.
He burst through the door, just moments after Nomsa, who immediately collapsed into his arms.
‘It’s okay. It’ll be okay, we all have each other.’ He held her as tightly as he could. Her sobs racked through her entire body and she fell to her knees. He’d never seen her so distraught, even when Josie died she’d refused to cry, refused to fall apart.
‘Poor Mr Pocklington, he was still so young, so young,’ she wailed, ‘and what about those girls, poor Madeleine and that poor child, Poppy. They have only just found him. Oh, Bandit, it’s so unfair, so very wrong and they’re saying he did this himself. He couldn’t have done, could he? That wasn’t his way.’
Both Jack and Bernie joined in the hug and for a moment all four of them stood together in the middle of the kitchen, conjoined.
‘Hey there, come on,’ Bandit said eventually, trying to ease the tension. ‘We have to be strong. It’s what Mr Pocklington would have wanted.’ He pulled away and one by one he looked them all squarely in the face. ‘Madeleine and the guests, they all need us right now. It’s our turn to step up and help them, just like they’ve always helped us.’
Pulling a huge white handkerchief from her apron, Nomsa blew her nose loudly and then wiped her eyes before returning the handkerchief to her pocket. She then turned towards the kettle, pulled a selection of teapots down from the shelf, along with assorted china teacups, and laid them out on a mixture of trays. All were presented just as they should be with small milk jugs and bowls containing lumps of both brown and white sugar.
Bandit watched with admiration. It was the one thing that made him love this house so much. Even at a time of distress, the staff of Wrea Head Hall always did things properly.
Bernie helped by filling one teapot after the other. Each tray was perfectly presented and he nodded at both Jack and Bandit who dutifully picked up the trays and carried them through the hall.
Bandit felt that even the air had a different texture as he carefully knocked on the library door and walked in.
Madeleine wiped her eyes and looked up just as he entered.
‘Madeleine, gentlemen, Nomsa has sent tea for you,’ he said as he placed the tray on the coffee table that stood between the two settees.
‘Thank you,’ she managed to say as she looked directly into his glistening, volcanic eyes. They held hers for a moment too long; he didn’t have to say the words to her. She knew how sorry he felt, just by the look in his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘Do I look okay?’ Madeleine asked as she studied her appearance in the free-standing mirror that stood in the corner of her room, beside the window.
‘You look great, honestly,’ Jess said as she sat on the floor. She was leaning back against the wooden four-poster footboard, where Poppy had insisted she sat while they played.
Jess had been there for the past six days, taking care of Poppy, and being a constant sounding block for Madeleine, who’d cried, shouted and screamed at every opportunity about the unfairness of losing her father. Her distress had turned to rage and she now felt nothing but anger towards him. How could he have done this? She had no idea how to run a hotel, nor did she know about antiques, laundry orders or Victorian shaped taps.
The house had been full of people for the past two days. Hannah had sent emails out cancelling all guest bookings for the week, in the hope that the pressure of not being around people would help. But then, one by one, members of Josie’s family had arrived. There were aunts, cousins and a sister that Madeleine had never met. Most had travelled from the south and, even though they hadn’t been invited to stay, they’d seen it as their right and moved into the rooms, making full and free use of the hotel.
Looking back in the mirror, Madeleine turned to look herself up and down from each angle, just to be sure she looked okay. Her father had died and she looked every part the grieving daughter, but she barely knew him, and felt such a fraud.
Even though she’d spent just a few days in his company, rather than the years that she should have had, she really had loved him. Yet she still felt as though she was the ringmaster at the circus. The centre of a show that was to be put on for all the people expected to attend and, as his daughter, his next of kin, she was expected to lead the procession.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind staying with Poppy?’ she asked Jess who now lay on the floor playing doll’s house with her niece.
‘Of course I don’t. I barely knew him, I only really met him the once, so I’m hardly a mourner, am I?’ she said as Poppy dropped her doll down the chimney of the doll’s house and began laughing hysterically as it crashed into the kitchen below. ‘Besides, it’s no place for Poppy. I’ll take her out with Buddy. We’ll go for a walk in the grounds and before you say it, I know, we won’t go near the greenhouse.’
Madeleine smiled. If nothing else, Jess was always protective of Poppy and she was right, a funeral was no place for a three-year-old. Even if she had been his granddaughter.
‘Right, I’ll be off then,’ she said, taking one last look in the mirror.
Jess jumped up and hugged her before Madeleine headed down the main staircase.
The day was all about grandeur, but even though she was putting on the show that was expected, she became overwhelmed by the crowds of people who fell silent as she walked down the stairs. Lilies and white roses were displayed along the hallway, their scent infiltrating the room with a powerful aroma that caused her to pull a tissue from her pocket in case she might sneeze. They were the biggest lilies she’d ever seen and they stood alongside the biggest church candles ever. Everyone was dressed in black, drank gold liquid from crystal glasses and, for some reason, reminded her of that very first night she’d looked in through the window, watching guests congregate for the murder mystery weekend.
Her eyes drifted across the
room. She looked towards the library door. Her eyes became fixed on one man.
Bandit.
He stood tall and proud, wearing his military uniform. His green beret carefully tilted, the badge of a crowned lion sitting on a crown above a crest pinned to it, clearly displayed above his left eye. Everything about him looked different. It was not only his clothes that had changed, his hair was shorter, he was clean shaven and for the first time Madeleine could see the pure chiselled symmetry of his jawline. He was a striking and handsome man, making her wonder why he’d been hiding beneath the overgrown look that she’d fast become accustomed to.
He walked towards her, held out a hand. ‘May I?’
She took his hand and felt him tremble as he escorted her through the crowd to the black limousine. The hearse stood in front, her father’s solid oak coffin within, covered in so many flowers that it could barely be seen.
‘Thank you,’ Madeleine whispered to Bandit, grateful for his gesture. She climbed into the car and looked back to where he stood, head bowed waiting for the car to depart before he moved. Her eyes were captivated by his new look and she stared at him long after the limousine door was closed.
Madeleine watched as the hearse made its way into the village. The streets were lined with people, all bowing their heads. Some removed their caps, held their hands to their heart or drew imaginary crosses in front of their faces, making a sob catch in her throat.
They eventually pulled up outside the church and she stepped out of the limousine and straight into the arms of Liam O’Grady.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘Not a chance, Liam. We’re not getting back together and no you are not coming to live here,’ Madeleine bellowed for what seemed like the twentieth time since the funeral had been over. She made a mental note to lower her voice; albeit most of the family members had gone home, some still remained and as far as she was aware, they had now gone back up to their rooms for the night. ‘What on earth would make you think that that would happen?’
Liam slouched in the chair as he pointed aimlessly around the room. He was obviously worse for wear on the free drink, which had flowed continuously during the afternoon. He sat with his arm above his head, looking very much at home in the library.
‘Maddie, darlin’, you know it makes sense. I kind of thought we’d start again, you know, a fresh start. We were good together, you know that. What could be better than me and you being here, together? I mean look at this place.’
Madeleine turned her back to him and stared out through the library’s huge Victorian window. Darkness had descended hours before and the beauty of the garden was now hidden from view. She could see his reflection in the glass and cringed. It was only now that she truly wondered what on earth she’d seen in him in the first place.
‘Come on, Maddie. We could be happy here.’
‘In which brain cell do you honestly believe that we would ever be happy?’
He really did think that they could pick up where they’d left off, pretend nothing had happened and live happily ever after. She felt furious at the thought that he could actually believe that she would fall back into his arms. Which she wouldn’t. It would be impossible for her to ever trust him again and only with trust could there ever be love.
‘No, Liam. What you mean is you’d be happy here. I’d never believe anything you ever did or said again.’
‘Darlin’, I know it would take time, but we could start slow.’
‘Slow?’ she said with a laugh. ‘I don’t want you near me. You repulse me. Don’t you understand that?’
He shook his head. It was more than obvious that he didn’t understand and chose to ignore every word that she was saying.
‘I think you should consider it. This place will take some running. Everyone loves my charm, Maddie. I could work front of house, meet and greet the guests. Maybe sit with them for a drink, chat and tell them the history of the house.’
Madeleine glared at Liam. He looked so confident, so utterly at home and so irritatingly sure of himself. ‘Wow. You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you? You really can see yourself as lord of the manor, can’t you?’ She reached out and held onto the mantle for support. ‘Have you already ordered your suit, Liam? I mean, lords always wear suits, don’t they, waistcoats maybe?’
He smiled, sipped his whisky and slouched further down in the chair. ‘You know it makes sense, Maddie. Of course, I’d have to look the part. Guests expect a certain amount of pomp and ceremony in hotels like this. Besides you need a man around here, you need someone to protect you.’
‘I can look after myself, so if you don’t mind, I think it’s time you left.’
Liam laughed. ‘Don’t be silly now. I’ve had far too much to drink to go anywhere tonight. Besides you have a huge four-poster bed up there in your room. You could show it to me, wouldn’t be the first time we’ve shared now, would it?’ He stood up and staggered over to where she stood, moved a strand of hair from in front of her face and leaned forward, lips pursed. ‘I promise to take it slow, darlin’.’
‘Touch me and I’ll stab you,’ she growled through gritted teeth as she picked up a toasting fork from beside the hearth. ‘Today was my father’s funeral and I’m really not in the mood to listen to your pathetic drivel, Liam. You got that?’
‘Come on, darlin’, put that thing down, you don’t mean it.’ He wobbled, puckered and then fell backwards onto the settee that stood behind him. His legs flew up into the air as he landed heavily on his bottom. He began to laugh and made an attempt to clamber back to his feet. ‘You know we’re good together, we could make this work.’
‘I’ll get you a taxi.’
‘Don’t be stupid, Maddie. There’s your bedroom right up the stairs.’ He pointed towards the back staircase, making Madeleine’s mind do somersaults.
‘Liam O’Grady, how the hell do you know, one, where my bedroom is and two, that it has a four-poster in it? Now, get out or I’ll call the police,’ she shouted as she moved to the door, opening it in the hope that he’d manage to stand up and walk right through.
‘Maddie, come on.’ He walked right up to where she stood, his hand dropped heavily onto her shoulder dragging her to him.
‘Okay, I’ve heard enough. Touch her once more and you’ll have me to deal with,’ Bandit growled menacingly as he burst into the room with the energy and propulsion of a tornado. He grabbed Liam’s shoulder and launched him to the other side of the room.
‘You okay?’ he asked Madeleine as a protective arm went around her shoulders. She nodded, grateful that he had intervened and for once she felt assured by his over protective nature.
‘You … You … can’t do that. Me and Maddie, we were talking,’ Liam tried to explain as he stood up and wobbled across the library, holding onto bookshelves as he went. ‘Shhhh, don’t tell anyone, but she loves me and we … we … we’re gonna get back together.’
‘In your dreams, Liam. How many times do I have to say it’s never going to happen,’ Madeleine chided.
‘I think the lady wants you to leave,’ Bandit snarled as he gave Madeleine a reassuring squeeze, before picking up a shocked and anxious Liam from where he slouched.
‘But I don’t want to leave.’
Bandit inhaled deeply and looked at Madeleine who nodded her head in agreement that Liam needed to go. ‘It wasn’t a request. I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.’
Liam quickly looked back at Madeleine in the hope that she’d come to his rescue.
‘Maddie, Maddie, don’t you dare let him do this. You’ll be sorry if you do.’
Liam’s feet seemed to run in mid-air as Bandit picked him up with ease and carried him across the room.
‘Maddie, call off the gorilla. I’m warning you. You’re not going to get away with this. I won’t let you.’
Bandit launched him from the library door and into the parlour where he landed in an undignified heap. ‘The lady asked you to leave. You don’t want her to have to ask aga
in. Now get out.’
Madeleine could hear Liam’s disgruntled Irish accent get louder and louder as once again Bandit picked him up and carried him, kicking and screaming, towards the front door. A crunch on the gravel indicated that he’d landed heavily and she couldn’t help but laugh.
Bandit stood in the stone arched doorway of the hall watching Liam as he curled up on the grass, pretending to sleep. A taxi had been ordered and he had every intention of ensuring that Mr O’Grady got in it and left.
During the past week, he’d barely had time to speak to Madeleine. Yet each day he’d admired her control, compassion and dignity from a distance. She’d immediately realised that her father’s death affected everyone and had taken the time to speak to every member of staff individually, ensured that they were all right and had everything that they needed to do their jobs. Each one had been given lighter duties during the aftermath, time off when they’d needed it and had been encouraged to spend time together, relaxing between chores.
‘Your taxi’s here,’ he said as he poked Liam with his foot. ‘Come on, get up.’
Liam could be heard grumbling. He’d curled up in a tighter ball, a little like a hedgehog without the spikes; his snores vibrated and he continued to sleep.
Bandit looked over his shoulder. He could see Madeleine watching from the library window. She had changed her clothes, no longer did she wear the black attire she’d been in all day but was now wearing a fitted white T-shirt along with a pair of tight fitting blue jeans that accentuated her shape.
Picking Liam up from the grass, Bandit dragged him to the taxi and threw him into the backseat. ‘If he doesn’t give you an address, take him to a Travelodge or something,’ he said as he passed the driver a twenty pound note, closed the door and watched as the taxi left the grounds.
‘I put him in a taxi, he’s gone,’ Bandit said sheepishly, walking back into the library. ‘I hope I didn’t overstep the mark? It’s just, well, I was walking past and I heard you shout.’