by Jenny Frame
Archie wasn’t quite the full-on dapper dandy that Evan was—designer jeans, tweed waistcoat, and shirtsleeves rolled up to her elbows was her style. Her shoulder-length hair was undercut and pulled into a tight topknot. Archie was five years older than her and the more sensible, but together they dreamed big and made some huge changes in the company, the main one being the game changer of using no plastic packaging. Generally, Evan dreamed big and Archie, who had a seat on the Fox Toys board, worked to make those dreams practical, and to make them happen.
Now, Evan sat on the edge of her desk and Archie put her iPad down.
“You were in the childcare centre, weren’t you?” Archie said, as she threw the ball back to Evan.
Evan caught it and grinned. “Where else?”
“I think you’d rather be playing with the kids than be in the boardroom.”
Evan spun the basketball on her finger. “That’s what this company is about, encouraging the joy and imagination of children. So what’s up?”
A big smile crept up on Archie’s face. “Prepare to have your mind blown.”
“What?”
“I’ve found the perfect location for your dream.”
Evan’s biggest dream was to find enough land to build a sustainable, ecological, diverse village, with affordable housing, where groups of like-minded people could live in a safe, supportive environment. The dream was inspired by her great hero, the social reformer Isadora Fitzroy.
Her heart started to beat fast. They had been looking for a long time for enough land, and the right kind of land, but nothing suitable had come up.
“Where?”
“Are you ready for this?” Archie grinned.
“Oh, come on. Tell me.”
“Rosebrook,” Archie said.
Evan couldn’t quite believe it, and she struggled to form words in reply. “Rosebrook? Isadora’s Fitzroy’s village? You’re winding me up.”
Archie handed over the iPad. “See for yourself. Do I lie?”
Evan gazed at the webpage displaying the land details. “Is it just the land or—”
“No, the house as well.”
Evan felt lost for words for probably the first time in her life, and her heart raced with excitement. She found herself walking around her desk to her chair, needing to catch her breath. “How is this possible? We’ve enquired before and the owner refused to sell at any price.”
Archie took a seat across the desk and crossed her legs. “Apparently the country hotel and rural retreat they had in mind was all a little too much for them, considering all the work that needs doing to the house and land.”
Evan gave a derisory snort. “Isadora would turn in her grave if her home and village were turned into some tacky leisure park.”
“Why do you adore Isadora Fitzroy so much?”
“Because she’s me, back in the past. A gay person, a woman ploughing her path, having dreams to make the world a better place—ever since I first learned about her at school, I felt this connection to her.”
“She failed with her dream,” Archie reminded her, “and lost her entire fortune.”
Evan got up and started to pace. She always got animated when she felt passionate about something. “She didn’t have the support systems I have, and she was swindled of her money along the way. Call the seller and make them an offer they can’t refuse.”
“Already have.” Archie stood up. “It’s yours if you want it.”
Evan clasped her hands to her cheeks with surprise and joy. “I can’t believe this is happening, at last.”
Archie pulled a bunch of keys from her jeans pocket and dangled them in the air. “Do you want to go and see what you’re buying?”
Evan grinned like a little child. “Archie, I think I love you. It’s hug time.”
She threw her arms around an uncomfortable Archie. “God, I hope you don’t love me, because you’re so not my type, and why always with the hugging? A firm handshake would have done.”
Evan slapped her on the upper arm. “You are seriously repressed, mate. You need to learn to open up. No wonder you’re continually single.”
“Pot calling kettle black there, Fox.”
Evan grabbed the keys. “That’s because I’m looking for Mrs. Fox. Come on.”
“You do realize how risky this project, this dream is?” Archie cautioned.
Evan walked backward towards the door and said, “The future belongs to those who dream.”
“Eleanor Roosevelt?” Archie asked.
“Nope, saw it on a T-shirt.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Let’s go, I’ve got dreams to create.”
Archie followed her to the door, shaking her head and smiling.
Chapter Three
Evan and Archie left for Rosebrook straight away in Evan’s trademark green vintage Beetle, which had been converted to electric. As they left the motorway and the landscape started to turn to fields and trees, Evan put down her window and breathed deeply.
“The English countryside, there’s nothing like it.”
Archie snorted. “All I can smell is manure.”
“What about the sea air?” Evan said. Rosebrook’s position on the Dorset coast made it even more attractive.
“It makes me twitchy to be so far away from the city,” Archie said.
Evan laughed and shook her head. “You’re so weird. An environmental activist who doesn’t like the country. Most of your colleagues in the industry want to go back to nature, have a plot of land, and live on it, in tune with nature.”
“Good God, no. I want to save the environment, the countryside, the animals that live there, the hedgerows, the unspoiled natural beauty, and teach people how we can live in harmony with nature, but I don’t want to live in it. I’m a city person through and through. I panic if there’s not a Starbucks within a five minute walk. Why you would want to live there, I have no idea. You’ve lived your whole life in London.”
“Ah, but I spent all our family holidays, every weekend, visiting the country. Sometimes walking and visiting villages or stately homes, and sometimes litter picking with countryside clean-up groups. My mum gave me my passion for saving the planet. I was on an anti-nuclear march by the time I was three years old.”
“What about your dad?”
“He generally went along with whatever she wanted to do. She is his passion, and whatever Cassia Fox wants, Dad wants.”
“And that’s why you are constantly talking about Mrs. Fox? You want someone to be your passion?”
“I want to share passion with someone who believes in dreams and in leaving the world in a better place than they found it,” Evan said.
Archie shook her head. “Listen, I’m older than you, and maybe no wiser, but relationships like that rarely happen. Better to enjoy your passion for women in short doses.”
Evan glanced to the side before returning her gaze to the road. “You are a congenital misery guts, Archie.”
“No, just realistic.”
“Realistic? Oh, that word gives me shivers. I hate that word—people say that when they’ve forgotten to dare to dream. Cheer yourself up a bit—look at the lovely cows in the field.”
“I can smell them. Isn’t that enough?” Archie said.
Evan laughed and brought her attention back to the road.
They passed a sign indicating three miles to Rosebrook. The road went up a steep incline, and when they reached the brow of the hill, Evan pulled in and got out of the car. Archie followed her and they both looked out over the scene.
Evan sighed. “How perfect and unique is this place? In one direction”—Evan pointed ahead of them—“rolling hills and farmland.” Then she turned forty-five degrees and opened her arms up wide and inhaled deeply. “And in the other, the sea and the Jurassic Coast. Heaven.”
“If you say so,” Archie said. “Did you visit here when you were a kid?”
Evan nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes, I think I was about ten when I learned about Isadora Fitzroy at school
, and I had to know everything about her. I was obsessed with her story and persuaded my parents to take me here.”
Evan pointed down the hill to the crossroads at the beginning of the village. “Through the trees on the right, there’s a path that leads down to the beach. I spent hours playing on that beach with my dad, and there’s a little wooden pier where you can hire small boats for sea fishing. I used to sit on that pier and fish for crabs, then search for fossils in the stones on the beach. It is the Jurassic Coast, after all. It was the best fun.” Evan had such a feeling of excitement that it was practically boiling over. “This is an untapped oasis of possibilities. Come on, let’s go see my village.”
* * *
“Oh, my dear. Thank you,” Agatha Tucker said.
Clementine dropped by to give the twins the shopping they’d asked for. Agatha was the fitter of the two, and Adelaide, who wasn’t the best on her legs, sat in a chair by the fire. While Agatha put the shopping away, Clementine walked over to Adelaide and sat down. “Ada, are you behaving?”
Ada laughed. “I hope not. How’s your mum, dear?”
“Just the same really. She was quite upset, but I managed to calm her down.”
“Good. We miss her—she was such a good personality around the village.”
“Yes, she was,” Clementine said.
Agatha came back from the kitchen and said, “Would you like a cup of tea and a cake, dear?”
“I won’t, if you don’t mind. I’ve quite a lot to do, but thank you.”
Clementine gave them each a kiss on the cheek and said her goodbyes. After leaving she went to the place in Rosebrook that gave her the most peace. The beach. Clementine sat on the sand and closed her eyes. She concentrated on the sound of the waves, the smell of the sea air, and the feel of the sand between her toes.
All through her life, in times of stress, Clementine always found her way down to the beach. It was so peaceful, so quiet. This was a little-known cove, and only people who came to fish regularly and the odd tourist came down here. It was her sanctuary.
Clementine listened to the seagulls circling overhead and exhaled, hoping to rid herself of the stress she was feeling—it didn’t work.
She opened her eyes and saw the little fishing boat belonging to Mr. O’Rourke meandering back in the distance. James O’Rourke owned the bait shop half a mile down the beach. He took out groups of fishermen, caught crabs and langoustine, sold fishing equipment and fossils picked up from the beach—whatever he could turn his hand to. The boat was the only sign of life on this beach.
It hadn’t always been like this. Her mother had shown her pictures from the Victorian period onward, of this little beach packed with tourists. Behind her, up at the wall of cliffs, a row of beach bathing huts had been rented out in the summer, and ice cream sellers used to ply their trade up and down the shore.
But all that started to decline as the village began to die a slow death from her grandmother’s mismanagement, and then the death knell came. She looked around and saw the evidence. Farther up and to the right were ugly cement block structures, half sunk into the sand. Towards the end of the Second World War, the Ministry of Defence sequestered land, buildings, and this beach for the war effort. The nearly private beach was perfect for training troops for the D-Day landings, and for anti-aircraft guns. After the war, the land the Fitzroys still owned reverted back to the family, later to be all sold up.
Just like this beach had lost its life and hope, Clementine had lost hers. Losing a job, still waiting on payments from her last two, and no sign of the next commission made keeping hope alive a losing battle. She had been offered permanent jobs with companies over the years, but had always stayed clinging to the edge, as a freelancer, so she could look after her mother.
It was looking more and more like a nine-to-five job was her only option, but not being available night and day for her mother broke her heart. She wiped away the tears that rolled down her cheeks, and as she looked around the big empty beach she felt truly alone.
Chapter Four
Evan parked the car at the church at the edge of the village and got out. She took off her sunglasses and popped them in her top pocket.
“Wow! What a fabulous building,” Evan said, gazing at the medieval architecture.
Archie joined her and read off her iPad. “It was built in 1394 and added to over the years but deconsecrated in the seventies.”
The graveyard in front was overgrown with weeds with the tops of the graves only just peeking out. She saw bees buzzing around the flowers.
“It seems a shame to tidy these weeds and flowers up. We have to set aside some plots of land for the bees, to make up for it. Note that down, will you?” Evan said.
“Got it. Bee world habitat,” Archie said while noting down Evan’s instructions.
Evan was heavily involved with bee conservation groups and thought it hugely important for agriculture to help bee populations thrive.
Evan walked up the steps to the church and placed her hand on the old oak door. “Can we look inside?”
Archie pulled out her bunch of keys and unlocked the door. “The agent did say it was a hard-hat area inside, but I suppose that’s not going to stop you.”
Evan grinned. “You know me too well. You’ve got to take the odd risk.” She walked through the front door, past a wooden set of stairs, and into the main body of the church. “Wow, what a great space.”
“Only you could say that. There’s damp, plaster hanging off the walls, and it looks like some people have been using it as a drinking den.”
Evan turned around in the space, taking in all that was beautiful about this old place. There was an upstairs balcony with seating, and downstairs the space was illuminated by the sun streaming through the beautiful stained-glass windows, although quite a few were broken in places.
She put her hand on the solid wooden pew next to her and said, “This would be a great community space, just like when it was a church.”
Evan started to pace around and gesticulated with her hands energetically. “This can be a hub for the whole community, a gathering place to plan, to celebrate, to support the residents. Take this note. I want this space renovated first. If I’m going to sell my vision to the residents, then this would be the place to gather and meet. How many residents are left in the village?”
Archie quickly checked the agent’s details. “Uh…eleven people in total. Four leaseholders and three owners. One the gatehouse to Rosebrook House, one house and plot that the owners run as a small holding, and one bigger house owned by its single occupant. The residents mostly live on the western side of the village. At its peak the village had one hundred and thirty-five residents, plus numerous land leases in the surrounding county.”
“That’s how the Fitzroys got rich.”
“And lost it, remember,” Archie said.
Evan winked. “Don’t worry—I know what I’m doing. So, we need repairs to the stained glass and restoration of the building. Walk with me and tell me what other buildings are included with the land.”
Evan set off at a fast pace out of the church doors and jumped down the steps. She had never felt so excited, so full of energy and ideas. She took in the small abandoned workers’ cottages she passed as she walked down the main road through the village and was saddened at what had happened to the place Isadora loved, while invigorated by the chance to revive it.
Archie caught up with her and read from her iPad, “As well as the cottages and housing, there’s the disused army barracks on the edge of the village, to the west, a hangover from when the army sequestered the village during the war.”
“Yes, and there’s some concrete structures used for anti-aircraft positions down on the beach. I’m not sure what to do with them yet—they are a piece of social history. I’ll let it run through the brain box,” Evan said.
Archie continued, “Other than that you have an empty factory that used to manufacture agricultural equipment, and there’s the old
beer factory—”
“The company that brought the downfall of the Fitzroy fortunes, and finally”—Evan slowed as they got near a boarded-up old building—“the pub.”
“That looks like an old building,” Archie said.
Evan smiled as she gazed at the whitewashed building. It was broken down and dirty, and the signage badly damaged, but you could still make out the lettering on the timber.
“The King’s Arms, established 1660.” Evan turned to Archie and said, “A pub is the heart of the community. It has to be top priority for refurb.”
“That’s got to be at least a Grade Two listed building. Any refurb would have to be done carefully,” Archie said.
“We’ll do everything by the book. I want this place to be perfect. Any info on the current duchess? I know her name is Clementine Fitzroy, but she’s a bit of a recluse, and there’s no info on the net about her. I don’t know her age—I don’t even know if she still lives in the vicinity.”
Archie looked down at her information. “The agent says she lives in the gatehouse to Rosebrook house. She could be some old dear breathing down your neck as you make changes.”
Evan slapped her on the shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll be delightful. Positivity rules, remember?” She snapped her fingers. “And while I remember, I want electric car points set up throughout the village, to encourage using electric cars, and a community bike station where residents or tourists can borrow bikes.”
“Got it. Where next?”
Evan rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Rosebrook House.”
* * *
Clementine walked from the beach path onto the main road through the village.
“Clem?” She heard a voice calling behind her.
She stopped and turned around. It was Kaydence Dayton and her son Toby. Kay was as close to a good friend as Clementine had in the world. She and her husband Casper, along with their children, Toby and Dexter, moved to the village a couple of years ago. It was the first time the village had new blood in years.
“Hi, Kay—hi, Toby.”