by Jenny Lane
`Tristan?' Annis tried to put a face to the name.
`Tristan Marsden — Stella's brother. He came to work here soon after Uncle Arnold died and he's been here ever since.'
Sally looked uncomfortable, suspecting that her friend would react badly to this news. 'I suppose I should have mentioned it,' Sally said quietly.
Annis's expressive eyes widened. 'Yes, you should have. It could make things very awkward all round.'
Sally poured out coffee from the bubbling percolator and passed the biscuit tin.
`I thought you wouldn't come if you knew,' she admitted.
`Well, I'm here now, so you'd better fill me in with what's been going on.' Annis nibbled on a chocolate digestive.
`Things aren't right, Annis. I can't quite put my finger on it, but . . .'
`You mean the business is going downhill?'
Sally shook her head, brown curls bouncing. 'No, quite the reverse. We're run off our feet. It's just that there have been a number of problems lately. Things happen that shouldn't, and every time, either Ross or Tristan seem to be around to sort things out.'
Annis frowned, unable to understand what her friend was getting at.
‘But that's good, isn't it? Sally, you're not making sense.'
`That's because it's difficult to put into words.' Sally sighed. `Annis, I'm positive that it's not my fault that all these mistakes are cropping up. And Ross and Tristan seem to delight in scoring points off one another. One countermands what the other one says and it leads to confusion. On the surface, everything seems to run like clockwork, but it doesn't.'
Annis tried to get her head round all this. `So, what does John think about it all?'
`Oh, you know John laid back never sees any wrong in anyone. There are times when I could shake him out of his complacency, but I love him to bits.'
`You're lucky to have such a lovely husband, Sally.'
`I know that, Annis, and I realise I ought to count my blessings when I think what happened to you . . . ' Sally felt a surge of sympathy for her friend.
At that moment the door opened and a man came into the room, tall and of medium build with thick, wavy, chestnut-brown hair and lean, good-looking features. Annis took one look at him and shot to her feet, her heart beating wildly.
`Andrew!'
But, of course, it wasn't Andrew.
How could it be Andrew was dead!
Annis gave a gasp and felt her legs crumple beneath her. She would have fallen to the floor but for a pair of strong arms that caught her and helped her back to her chair.
After a few moments she sat up shakily and smoothed back her hair. What a fool she'd made of herself. She took the glass of water that was held out to her.
`I'm so sorry — just for a moment, I thought . . . I thought . . .'
`I know what you thought,' said a harsh voice. 'Let me introduce myself. I'm Ross Hadley Andrew's cousin. And I've no need to ask who you are. You're Annis Fuller, aren't you? What do you think you're doing here?'
`I asked her to come,' Sally interjected. 'In case you hadn't noticed, I'm on my own in this office.'
Ross glared at Sally, dark eyes blazing. 'Then find another temp or get one of the other girls to cover — we employ enough of them. There must be someone to suit your requirements.' He turned back to Annis. 'I'm going to order some tea for you and then, when you're feeling better, I'd like you to leave.'
Annis gaped at him, shaken by his hostility towards her. ‘But I've only just got here. Anyway, I'd like to see Bryn.'
There was a determined set to Ross's jaw.
`And that's precisely why I don't want you around. Mr Freeman isn't at all well these days. His shock at seeing you might be even greater than the one you've just received. You'll bring back too many memories for him. Sally, my office — now, please!'
From her perch on the rather hard chair, Annis could hear the drone of their two voices coming from the adjacent room, though she couldn't make out what they were saying. Her mind was in turmoil. Just for a fleeting moment, she'd thought that Ross Hadley was Andrew Freeman — her Andrew, who had been so cruelly killed in a fire at the Mill almost four years ago.
No, not her Andrew, she reminded herself. For, although Annis and Andrew were to have been married, only six weeks before the wedding he had called it off, saying that he had met someone else and had fallen in love with her.
The woman he had met was Stella Marsden- the granddaughter of Bryn Freeman's business partner, Arnold Marsden. Stella had, at that time, only recently returned to England from Canada and had been invited to come as a surprise guest to Arnold's seventy-fifth birthday party. Due to a bitter family dispute, Stella hadn't seen her grandfather for a number of years, but now the old gentleman was ill and he was desperate to make his peace before he died.
Within the space of three months, Andrew and Stella were married, and then shortly after the wedding, Arnold Marsden had died.
* * *
Annis's thoughts were interrupted when, after a brief knock, a pretty, smiling girl in an overall came into the room carrying a covered tray. She set it out before Annis, gave her a shy smile and departed. Besides the tea, there was a tempting array of sandwiches, fruit and pastries, and in spite of herself Annis set to with an appetite, for she had missed lunch.
A few moments later, Sally returned. She gave Annis a big hug.
`Sorry about that, Annis. Are you feeling better now?'
Annis nodded. 'It was silly of me, but Ross looks so like Andrew at first glance.'
`I know, but he's not a bit like him, really. It's my fault that you got such a fright — I forgot you two hadn't met, even though you knew about each other from Andrew and myself. In fact, everything's all my fault. I can't seem to get anything right, lately.' Sally sighed. `I've just been hauled over the coals for not consulting Ross before asking you to come down here. He says it's not viable for you to stay to help me out. I argued that we were a superb team before, and that although the Mill has expanded and we have more staff and equipment, the basic work is still very much the same.'
‘But your argument fell on deaf ears?' Annis passed the cake, remembering Sally's sweet tooth.
Sally helped herself absently, and at Annis's invitation found a mug and poured some tea.
`Well, thanks for your support, Sally, but I'll not stay where I'm not wanted,' Annis said decisively. 'It was hard enough coming here in the first place.'
Sally had pleaded with Annis long and hard on the phone, persuading, cajoling, and finally convincing her that she would be welcomed at the Mill with open arms. Now Sally opened her enormous hazel eyes wide in dismay.
‘But you can't desert me now, Annis. I need your expertise.'
‘But Ross doesn't. You heard what he said to you — you've obviously got a lot of staff here, any one of whom could help you, so why choose me?'
Sally ran a hand through her rather unruly mop of brown hair.
`You were always good at tackling problems, but it's not just that . . .' She paused, looking almost frightened, Annis thought. `Annis, listen — for ages now, I've suspected that there's been something going on behind my back, plans concerning the Mill that no-one's telling me about probably because it's something I'd oppose . . . Look, Ross is going off-duty shortly until Monday, and in any case, you'll be staying with us at the cottage.'
`I would like the chance to see Bryn,' said Annis wistfully.
`OK, once Ross has gone, I'll go up and see if Bryn feels he can see you. He's not been himself since the fire, you see. He feels guilty about it as if he has no right to be here because Andrew died.'
`How can he blame himself?' Annis shook her head. 'It wasn't his fault, what happened. I heard that Andrew went back inside for Stella.'
`Yes — she'd managed to get out, but someone must have told him she was still inside . . . It was such a tragedy, such a waste.'
A kaleidoscope of memories flashed through Annis's mind — Andrew smiling up at her on a picnic by the ri
ver; the two of them walking hand in hand in a bluebell wood; dancing with him at numerous weddings held at the Mill . . . but destined never to dance with him at her own.
Sally looked at her friend with concern, aware of her suffering and not knowing how to help. She put a hand on Annis's arm.
`Look, why don't you go for a walk?' she suggested. 'Just to get out of Ross's way. Leave your luggage here and come back in about an hour. He'll be gone by then, but just in case, I'll point out his car. It's a dark green Mercedes.'
Annis set off back down the drive in the direction of the village of Heronsbridge. It was difficult to believe that she hadn't been here for almost five years. In fact, it could have been just yesterday, especially when a young couple pushing a buggy stopped to talk to her.
`You're Annis Fuller, aren't you? How lovely to see you! You made our wedding day so very special. Everything was just perfect . . . This is our little girl.'
Annis bent to smile at the toddler and murmured something suitably approving, but she didn't really remember the couple. She had helped dozens of couples to have a perfect wedding which was ironic when her own plans had gone so tragically wrong. She walked along the High Street, deep in thought.
Annis had worked at Heathercote Mill for several years and had been full of enthusiasm and ideas. Bryn Freeman and Arnold Marsden had been kind and considerate employers, and she had loved her job.
`Something Borrowed, Something Blue' had started off in a small way, but it had been Annis who had come up with the idea that, while the Mill was certainly a wonderful setting for weddings, they could offer so much more than just a venue. After all, there was enough to think about when you were getting married without having to cope with the hassle of getting it all to come together on the big day.
And so Annis had hit upon the idea of creating a complete package, arranging not just the reception but everything from the service onwards. They would hire out wedding outfits, liaise with florists, bands, caterers organize the whole day. But always allowing scope for people to make their own arrangements, and fitting in with them.
Word spread, and soon bookings were coming in fast and furious.
It was a tremendous success and then, just when things were at their peak, Arnold became ill and was forced to retire, although he continued to live at the Mill and to take an interest in the business.
Bryn was a widower with no children and so it was his great-nephew, Andrew Freeman, who came to help out, and Andrew with whom Annis fell so deeply in love. When they became engaged it had been the happiest day of her life and Bryn and Arnold had insisted that the wedding would be at Heathercote Mill — a complete package with no expense spared.
After Andrew broke off their engagement, Annis had left Heathercote Mill to stay with her parents in Dorset for a few months, before finding work in another hotel.
Andrew and Stella had married almost immediately and, shortly afterwards, Arnold Marsden had died and Bryn Freeman had inherited the majority of his shares in the enterprise.
* * *
Annis glanced at her watch. It was still only half an hour since she'd left the Mill. She couldn't return just yet. She came upon a newly-opened antiques shop with a coffee bar and decided to while away the remainder of the time in there.
There were a couple of men talking animatedly in one corner and, after a quick glance at her, they lowered their voices. She took her time, looking at the items on display, which she thought were all rather pricey. Once or twice she glanced in the direction of the two men, wondering if they were dealers. The younger of the two was stocky but quite good-looking with thick sandy hair, whilst his companion was rather chubby and had a sly expression to his florid face.
After looking around the shop, she made her way to the coffee bar and ordered an over-priced cappuccino which she didn't really want.
She sat looking out into the attractive courtyard garden, wondering whatever had possessed her to return to Heronsbridge. She was already beginning to regret her decision, but at least she could stay long enough to reassure herself that Bryn was all right. She decided that she would stay with Sally for the weekend, and then return to London on Monday.
* * *
When she returned to Heathercote Mill, Annis was relieved to see that Ross Hadley's Mercedes was no longer in the car park.
She went into the office just as Sally was putting down the phone, a frown creasing her normally good-natured features.
`We've a big wedding on tomorrow,' she explained to Annis, 'and that was the bride's mother having a mega panic. We can't afford for anything to go wrong, but I've got a nasty premonition that something will.'
`Why should it?' Annis was puzzled. Sally had always been so confident, but now she seemed very on edge.
`Because just lately everything always does go wrong, no matter how hard I check things out.'
`Then we'd better start to check and double check everything systematically now, before it's too late,' Annis said briskly. 'Let's look at your computer.'
Armed with phone numbers Annis set to work, saying that on this occasion she wasn't prepared to rely on e-mail. She wanted to speak to people personally. Sally was extremely thorough and had already checked out a good deal of the items herself. The marquees were up, the caterers were ready for the following morning and so was the florist. It seemed as if there really couldn't be any last minute hitches . . . That was until they tried to contact the band and discovered that they had gone to Blackpool for the weekend!
`What did I tell you?' Sally wailed. `This sort of thing happens all the time! I made the booking months ago! Now the agency says that it was cancelled a few weeks ago, but the girl can't remember who by. Annis, whatever are we going to do now? It's all down to me!'
`No, it's not because I'm here to help and we're going to sort this out.'
Annis thought hard. She began systematically phoning all the bands that the hotel regularly used, even though she was aware that unless one of them had a last minute cancellation it would be impossible to find a substitute at this late stage.
After a fruitless half hour, Annis turned to Sally.
`Look, I've got an idea. I can't promise anything, but would you be prepared to try someone completely new?'
Sally nodded. 'Beggars can't be choosers.'
Annis went ahead and contacted a friend of hers who had a young cousin desperate to get a break in the music world. Within the hour it was all set up.
Sally heaved a sigh of relief. 'There you are. I knew you'd sort things out. Mind you, we're not out of the woods yet. Ross will want to know why he wasn't consulted before we booked someone new.'
`Oh, he can go whistle,' Annis said rudely. 'Now, what's next?'
It seemed that everything else was in order, and as soon as they were sure of this, Sally went upstairs to her Uncle Bryn's flat, to return a few moments later with an invitation for Annis to join them.
* * *
Bryn Freeman had aged. The first thing Annis noted was his poor scarred hands, but his bright blue eyes lit up when he saw her and a smile crinkled his already lined face. She went across to the old gentleman and received a hug.
`Where have you been, lass? I've missed you so much,' he said.
Annis swallowed back the tears. 'I visited you in the nursing home after the — the fire,' she told him.
He sighed and took her hand. 'Yes, but that seems so long ago. You've lost weight, Annis. You're a mere shadow of yourself.'
She laughed. 'Go on with you, Bryn.'
`Well, it's wonderful to see you, lass. I keep thinking that if you and Andrew had stayed together none of this would have happened.'
`We can't turn back the clock,' she said gently, her heart aching. 'Sometimes people are just in the wrong place at the wrong time . . .
He sighed again. 'I've never really cared for that Stella, but I do know that she loved my great-nephew. That's my one consolation . . . You didn't get to the funeral?'
`No I didn't know about anyt
hing that had happened until after I returned from America.'
She had been in Virginia, visiting friends, and her family — in a bid to protect her, and knowing how much she needed the holiday had thought it best to keep the news from her until her return. They had not realised how badly injured Andrew was, however, and he had died while Annis was away.
`I didn't get to the funeral either, because I was in hospital,' said Bryn quietly. 'He saved my life, you know.'
`I know,' Annis said gently, and bent to kiss the old man's cheek.
`Stella went away soon afterwards, to Canada to stay with her father she couldn't face being here. But now she's back again.'
Sally had warned Annis that Stella had returned to Heronsbridge and this was something else that Annis was going to have to face up to.
`It's wonderful to see you, Annis. Stay as long as you like. I hope they've given you a nice room?' the old man asked.
`Oh, I'm staying with Sally and John for the time being. I wasn't sure if I'd be welcome.'
`Nonsense, girl. You'll always be welcome here. The place hasn't been the same without you, and Sally could do with a hand now that Zoe's left to have her baby.'
`But what about the other managers . . . Ross and Tristan?'
`Oh, they run the business, but I've got my finger on the pulse and I make sure I have the final say.' Bryn's blue eyes glinted. 'Ross protects me and Tristan tries to manipulate me, but at the end of the day, they know they have to respect my wishes because I control the finances and always have done. Now, don't you worry, you're to stay as long as you like. Move in here when you want to. Get Vicki on reception to organise it. Come and join me for dinner tonight — and Sally too; it'll save her cooking.'
They had a nostalgic evening, reminiscing about the Mill in the early days when it had first opened, and laughing over incidents from the past.
It was past ten o'clock when Sally and Annis left the Mill.
`I wish things could always be like that,' Sally remarked as they sat over a supper drink in her cottage. 'It was so relaxed. No pressure . . . Just like old times.'